Adultery SPOILING MY WIFE FOR A PERVERT OLD WATCHMAN

[AK0047]

There was only one way for me to find out how Puja had reached a climax before we even began our roleplay: the CCTV cameras. I immediately went over and turned on the computer. I pulled up the footage from the bedroom earlier that morning; Puja was asleep. I fast-forwarded a bit, and she woke up and headed straight for the bathroom. I switched to the bathroom camera feed. She took off her dress, tossed her panties aside, climbed into the bathtub, and began cleaning her pussy.


So, Puja had reached a climax during the night! But we hadn’t had sex last night—so how did this happen? She must have had a wet dream! Someone had appeared in her dreams and left her in this state. My cock began to stir. Who could it have been—the person who appeared in her dream? Could it be Aslam Chacha?!

I had to find out who had visited her dreams and left her pussy in this condition. But how? I fast-forwarded the footage. Puja came out after her bath and sent a reply to someone. A few minutes later, she received a response and picked up her phone again. She spent the next 40–45 minutes chatting, blushing the entire time. Who could she be talking to so early in the morning—and blushing so much? It couldn't be Aslam, could it? Just yesterday, she had threatened to file a complaint against him—so why was she talking to him now? Could this be the effect of the wet dream? Did having sex with Aslam in her dream cause her to develop a soft spot for him?!

I went into the bedroom, where Puja was still asleep. I grabbed her phone and used her fingerprint to unlock it. I checked her messages, but there was nothing from Aslam—she had only read a message from him, but hadn't replied. The message was from her best friend, Komal. I took a screenshot and sent it to my own phone. Then, by cross-referencing the video and the chat, I began reading through the conversation.

Puja: Hey, Komal...

Komal: (3 minutes later) Hey, Puja! How are you? Did you forget all about me after getting married? No calls, no messages—nothing!

Puja: Oh, not at all! My husband got a job here in Kolkata, so we moved. I’ve just been so busy that I haven’t had a chance to reach out.

Komal: I see! Well, tell me—what made you think of me after all this time?

Puja: You know how it is—whenever I run into a problem I can’t solve, I always turn to you.

Komal: What kind of problem?! Are you okay? Hang on, I’m calling you right now—pick up!

Puja: No, no—don’t call! Let’s just chat here. I don’t want anyone else to hear our conversation.

Komal: Alright, tell me—what’s the problem?

Puja: Look, whatever this is, please don’t judge me. You know I’d never do anything like this—it’s just a complete coincidence!

(My curiosity was piqued—what on earth was she about to reveal? And what kind of "coincidence" could have happened that I didn’t know about?!)

Komal: Alright, alright, calm down! First, tell me—what’s the problem?

Puja: Well, I had a dream today... and there was someone else with me.

Komal: Okay, so what’s the problem with that?

Puja: I mean, it was another man—not my husband.

Komal: So? Do you expect to see only your husband in your dreams every single time?

Puja: Oh, come on! I mean... I had sex with someone else in the dream.

At that moment, Puja was playing with her hair. She felt so embarrassed telling this that her face had turned bright red.

(My cock was beyond my control then. It had become so tight that I had to unzip my pants and pull it out.)

Komal: "Wow, Puja! You... with someone else? No, no—my ears must be playing tricks on me. Say that again—what did you just say?"

Puja: "Exactly what you heard. Could you stop overreacting?"

Komal: "But look at this! Puja, you had a whole line of guys chasing after you, and you wouldn't even give any of them the time of day. And now, after getting married, you’re having sex with some other man!"

Puja: "I told you not to judge. I didn't ask for this to appear in my dream, did I?"

Komal: "Yeah, but still... do you even know him?"

Puja: "Hmm."

Komal: "Wow! Who is he?"

Puja: "Look, it’s just a dream. I don’t like that man at all—he’s always so filthy. I wouldn't even talk to him, let alone have sex with him!"

Komal: "But who is he?"

Puja: "He’s the watchman here."

Komal: "Well, well! What kind of magic does this watchman have that managed to stir up feelings in my dear Puja’s heart?"

Puja: "There are no feelings! I have no idea how he ended up in my dream."

Komal: "Look, as far as I know, the people you have feelings for—or the ones whose touch your body craves—are the ones who show up in your dreams for sex. Whatever is in your mind ends up in your dreams."

Puja: "Oh, just drop it! It was a mistake to even tell you. There are no feelings! I don’t even like him—he’s old, and so dark-skinned! I wouldn't even let him touch me."

Komal: "Remember when we used to do research on the opposite sex?" "Older men tend to be quite experienced when it comes to sex."

Puja: "Yeah, yeah, I remember. But what does that have to do with anything?"

Komal: "Look, you have this idea in your head that older men are very experienced—that they’re amazing in bed and can keep going for a long time. Plus, what woman doesn't have a dark fantasy about having intense sex with a dark-skinned man? It’s possible that while your mind is telling you that you don’t want him, your heart has—in some corner—made space for this experienced, ruggedly handsome watchman."

Puja: "Whatever you say, I don’t buy it. It’s nothing like that."

Komal: "Alright, fair enough—but why not find out for sure?"

Puja: "How?!"

Komal: "Try some roleplay."

Puja: "No." (She lied.)

Wow, my wife is quite good at lying. She lied to me, too.

Komal: "Look, try some roleplay with your husband. Choose a 'watchman' persona for one of the sessions, and while you're at it, imagine it’s him. If you reach a stronger orgasm than usual, then you’ll know your body craves his touch."

Puja: "Forget it. I don’t want to imagine him. I know for a fact that I don’t have any feelings for him."

Komal: "Well, what’s the harm in finding out? If you don’t climax more intensely, then it’s just a coincidence—no big deal."

Puja: "Fine, I’ll hang up now. I need to make breakfast; he has to head to the office."


My wife had already been with Aslam in her dreams, and today, she agreed to a roleplay session—partly to explore that further. During the roleplay, she reached climax so many times—far more than usual—that I lost count. It seems what Komal said was true: Puja’s body was craving Aslam’s touch. As for what she was trying to figure out yesterday—well, she surely got her answer last night: Aslam wouldn’t just touch her; he would fuck her with intense, raw passion. Afterward, I went to the bedroom, where Puja was already asleep. I lay down beside her, lost in my own thoughts, and before I knew it, I had drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up in the morning, Puja wasn’t on the bed. I looked outside and saw her performing *puja* (prayers). I sat down to read the newspaper. She later got up and went into the kitchen; she wouldn’t speak to me, nor would she even make eye contact. She was wearing an orange saree, and her face still held that post-coital glow from the night before. She looked incredibly hot.


I came up from behind, grabbed her, and began sucking on her neck quite intensely.

Puja: "Hubby, please stop. Let me get on with cooking."


Me: "And tell me, my love, how was it yesterday? Did you enjoy it?"

Puja: "I don't know."

Me: "What do you mean—you didn't enjoy it?"

Puja: "Hubby, I don't want to talk about that."

Me: "Hey, what happened? Did I do something wrong? Aslam really got you all fired up, didn't he? If you want, he could give you that same pleasure again tonight."

Puja: "Hubby, I don't want to do it anymore."

Me: "What do you mean—you don't want to do it?"

Puja: "It’s done, isn't it? I don't want to do it again."

Me: "But why? Didn't you enjoy it?"

Puja: "I don't know."

Me: "Tell me, my love—did you not enjoy it?

Puja: "Yes, I did enjoy it. But why should I have sex while imagining someone else—especially when I have a husband of my own? I don't want to do it."

Me: "But what's the problem with that? It's not like you're actually doing it for real."

Puja: "You always say that to shut me up. But yes, there *is* a problem. Because when you have sex while imagining someone else, in that moment, it feels like you are actually having sex with that person."

I hadn't expected this. I started getting even more excited—realizing that last night, my wife felt as though she were actually having sex with Aslam. That explained why she had reached climax so many times! According to Komal’s theory, Puja’s body specifically needed Aslam to release all that pent-up heat. My cock began to stir and harden in response.

Me: "But baby, it was just a thought for a little while, that's all. You enjoyed it, and that was the end of it."

Puja: "And that’s exactly why I’m saying I don’t want to do it again." Otherwise, you’ll just ask to do more. I don’t want to get addicted to this roleplay.

Me: Oh, sweetheart, nothing will happen. I won’t let that happen.

Puja: Hubby, that’s enough—no more. What if things go wrong? This isn’t right. We could try something else, but not this. I don’t want to feel hesitant or awkward when I’m in front of him. Why should I involve a watchman so deeply in my life? So, that’s it—from today onwards, we are not doing this roleplay anymore.

I found myself in a dilemma. Everything I had worked toward had gone down the drain. Last night, the way she was thrusting her body and begging to be fucked, I was certain she would finally let Aslam have his way with her. But things took the opposite turn. After that night, the 'devoted, chaste wife' persona within her had reawakened. Perhaps, in a way, that was understandable—one cannot always control one's body, but one can exercise self-control to prevent the body from reaching that point. That is exactly what my wife was doing now. I knew that if she found herself in such a situation with Aslam again, she wouldn't be able to stop herself—I had seen that for myself just last night. Yet, she was holding back from going to him.

This meant I wasn't getting what I truly wanted. I wanted Aslam to tear through my wife’s pussy with his pitch-black cock. I was desperate to witness the union of that coal-black member and her soft, milk-white pussy. I realized she was acting this way because of what happened last night, but as time passed, she would surely forget. I would then employ my cunning mind once more; I wasn't about to give up so easily. No matter what, I was determined to see my wife fucked by Aslam. With that, I finished breakfast and left for the office.