Adultery Seduction of My Wife Padma (UPDATED 30-DEC-25)

[sharath841]

The lift doors opened.

Mohan and Padma walked into their apartment together.

The moment the door closed behind them, Mohan turned toward her.

Padma barely had time to put down her handbag before he stepped closer and pulled her into a warm, spontaneous hug.

? Padma: “Mohan…”

He smiled and kissed her.

She initially looked surprised, then relaxed into his embrace, wrapping her arms around him.

? Padma: “Slowly… I’m not running anywhere.”
Mohan laughed softly.

He kissed her forehead, then her mouth again, and they disappeared into the bedroom.
The door clicked shut.
Mohan shoved Padma back against it. His mouth was already on hers—wet, open, filthy. He hugged her tight and grabbed both handfuls of her round ass through the silk. She was already in the mood; she melted into him, kissing him back, both of them clinging and cuddling like they had been starving for this all evening.



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He turned her in his arms, hugged her from behind, grabbed her abdomen and pulled her flush against him, kissing her neck. She closed her eyes.


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? Mohan: “Padma… you are cute. You are soft. You are hot. You are divine.”
https://files.catbox.moe/xbau17.mp4
He unwound the orange-red saree. Two hooks of the green blouse came open. She was half-bared now, shining in the night light—fair skin, the swell of her breasts, the dip of  her waist .

1. https://www.dailymotion.com/video/xbecbku

 https://www.dailymotion.com/video/xbecbku put her on the bed and stripped himself completely nude. Then he came over her, hiked the petticoat around her waist, and stared at the thin cotton panty stretched over her pussy. He kissed her right there, on the fabric, over her cunt.

“Look at this,” he muttered, dragging the panties down her thighs with his teeth and fingers. “Walking around the whole society looking like a fucking queen. A cow in heat. The bulls of the society sense her pheromones—sex pheromones, the ones that attract mates, that signal reproductive readiness—and they know which cow is in heat. Now see. Your pussy already wet because of heat.”
The panties hit the floor.
Padma gasped, grabbed his hair, and hid her face with both hands.
? Padma: “Mohan— I’m not a cow in heat… what are you comparing, man… you are always dirty…”
He pulled the petticoat off. She helped him. Then he went for the blouse. She helped with that too. Now both of them were nude.
She was shy.
? Padma: “I’m shy of the light…”
? Mohan: “No. It’s our time.”
He started kissing her legs. She lay there, breathing already changing—haaaa. He worked his way up slowly. She held the bedspread tight and lifted her upper body. He kissed her thighs with wet, smacking sounds. Muahhh. Muahhh.
? Padma: “Ha… no… Mohan… ha…”
He reached the pussy. Shaved completely. Wet. He put two fingers on her and spread her open. The glossy secretion stuck between both walls like a thin slime film over pink flesh. She moaned, breathing heavy.
Then he started kissing her pussy—slow. She grabbed his head. He licked her slow. She made those sounds—haaa, uhhhhhh, hubby… yes… ahhhhh. She bent both legs. Her thighs crushed his face. She leaked. Her gum secretions wet his mouth and the tip of his nose, smeared across him.
He kissed her thighs again and bit one buttery, round, fair thigh.
She screamed.
? Padma: “Aaahhh—”
He wiped his mouth and face with a towel, climbed on her, started smooching her, lifted both her legs and spread them, and put the head of his cock on her pussy.
Her pussy engulfed the tip. He pressed a little, holding himself. It went in easily.
Both of them felt it. So nice.
He started slow. In and out. Hugging, cuddling, kissing. Easy. Gentle.
She started bucking her hips up without thinking—so tempted she lost sense, lifting for more. The angle got uncomfortable. He gave harder strokes.
“You’ve been dripping since the lift. I could smell you in the hallway, Padma. My wife’s pussy leaking through her saree like a cow in heat.”
Her nipples were dark and stiff. He palmed both tits and fucked her in short, brutal strokes that made the bed rattle.
? Mohan: “Take it. Take your husband’s cock like you were made for it. You wore that saree tonight so every bastard would stare and then you came home to get fucked like this. Didn’t you?”
? Padma: “Shut up, Mohan…”
Her nails dug into his shoulders. Her legs locked around his waist. He bit her neck and slammed into her until her voice broke into broken little ah-ah-ah sounds.
After a while he slowed, still inside her, breathing against her ear.
? Mohan: “Baby… I want to love you in another way.” He said it with hesitation.
? Padma: “How?”
? Mohan: “Want to kiss you from behind…”
? Padma: “You did that already.”
? Mohan: “Not like that.”
? Padma: “Then how?”
? Mohan: “I want to love your ass.”
? Padma: “What? No. No chance.”
? Mohan: “Please, baby. Please.”
? Padma: “Why do men love women’s back?”
? Mohan: “That I’ll tell you now. Get up and turn.”
She got up. He turned her, kissed her shoulder, and put both hands on her round, big bum, grabbing it.
He bent her. She came almost onto all fours—crawling pose.
? Padma: “What!!!”
He held her ass with both hands, grabbed it, massaged it, kissed it. She laughed and enjoyed it in spite of herself.
? Mohan: “Wow. What an ass, baby.”
Pumpkin-shaped. In the crack, a small pinkish-black puckered hole surrounded by a few thin hairs. He put a finger on it.
? Padma: “No, baby—shhh… no.”
He put his face near it, smelled it, put his lips there and kissed the crack, holding the cheeks apart.
? Padma: “No. Dirty. No.”
? Mohan: “What dirty?”
He kissed and bit the cheeks, then gave one tight slap. A sharp clap. Loud enough that another house might have heard.
She jerked.
? Padma: “Ouch!!”
She straightened, turned toward him, laughing, rubbing the stinging cheek with her hand.
? Padma: “What? Why did you slap there?”
? Mohan: “Baby, I wanna fuck you like this only.”
? Padma: “No. Never. Do it normal.”
? Mohan: “Let’s try a new one. People call it doggy pose.”
? Padma: “No. I don’t want to try. Leave it.”
? Mohan: “Hey, please. Nothing will happen. Come.”
? Padma: “Okay… but slowly.”
He made her bend. Face in the bed, ass up.
He tried to push in. It wasn’t comfortable at first.
? Mohan: “Ass up, Padma. Lift your ass. Bend your waist like a bow.”
She remembered Johnny Sins clips while he missed the hole a few times, then found it. After a few strokes they adjusted. She started enjoying it more than she expected. The memory of those videos mixed with the real stretch of him.
He started slapping her bum and shouting.
? Mohan: “Padma… yes… how’s it?”
? Padma: “Hoo… ahhhhhh… mmmmm… yes… haaaaaa… ahhhh… hmmmm… ahhhaaaaaaa… yes baby, do it…”
He fucked her like that, one hand in her hair like he was riding.
? Mohan: “Baby, I’m the horse fucking the female horse. Baby, you know how a horse dick is?”
? Padma: “No…”
? Mohan: “Big. Up to a feet.”
? Padma: “What!!! That big?”
? Mohan: “Yes. That big.”
His other hand reached under and rubbed her swollen clit in tight circles. Then he grabbed her boobs and pressed them.
? Mohan: “This is how in porn movies they do.”
She remembered the scene again. She didn’t want to utter a word. She was shy.
Her legs cramped.
They switched to missionary. Still a little uncomfortable at first—kissing, hugging, fucking, both moaning. Festival makeup still on her face. Hair completely disturbed.
He gave it to her harder. The bedframe knocked the wall. When he had her from behind again for a stretch, her ass rippled every time his hips met it. He leaned over her back and spoke into her ear, voice low and dirty.
“I was hard the entire evening watching you laugh with those aunties. I wanted to drag you behind the stage, lift this saree, and breed you where anyone could hear. You’d have let me, wouldn’t you? My respectable wife with her legs open and my cum running down her thighs.”
She pushed back onto him, gasping, greedy—then still tried to deny it.
? Padma: “Hehe… no. I wouldn’t.”
? Mohan: “Then shall I stop?”
? Padma: “No. Don’t stop now. You can do whatever…”
They fucked. He felt it building.
? Mohan: “Baby, I may cum…”
? Padma: “Yes, baby, cum. I’m also going to cum.”
? Mohan: “My beautiful wife Padma. You so cute. So hot. You’re uncontrollable.”
His words and his cock finished her. The first orgasm hit her hard. She clenched around him so tight, then her pussy went loose and wet and he kept giving her shots—chap-chap, filthy wet slaps of skin. Her voice went hoarse.
He fucked her slow and deep, then fast again.
? Mohan: “Look at me while I ruin this cunt. That’s it. Good girl. Take every inch. You’re going to come again on my cock and then I’m going to pump you full.”
? Padma: “Do it—come inside me—I want to feel it leak out of me after—”
? Mohan: “You are my baby love. You are my thing. I want to use you, want to fuck you, want to love you. My filthy queen.”
He lasted until she came a second time—thighs trembling around him, pussy fluttering and soaking his balls. Then he buried himself to the hilt, groaned against her neck, and emptied into her in thick pulses.
He stayed inside after, still twitching. His cum already started leaking around his cock when he finally softened.
He kissed her messy mouth.
He laughed, low, slipped two fingers back into her, scooped his own cum, and pushed it deeper.
“Night’s not over.”
They kept kissing, talking, discussing in the dark—sticky, smiling, still touching.
The rest of the night belonged only to Mohan and Padma.