24-10-2026, 07:04 PM
(Continuation from above)
Vicky leaned back further on the marital mattress, completely at ease, and continued in the same low, conversational tone.
“You know, Rajesh… when you came to meet with some files to the villa that day… also a housewife of his colleague came. She is so traditional… but our Rohan makes her loud moans and cries. You saw on that day?”
Rajesh’s jaw tightened. The memory was still sharp. He had been downstairs with the files, waiting, when the unmistakable sounds had drifted down from the upper room—high, broken, helpless. He had sat there listening, cock hardening against his will, while Rohan took that soft, traditional woman until her cries filled the entire villa.
He whispered, almost against his own will.
“Haan… yes… I saw.”
Vicky’s smile widened.
“You heard that traditional wife’s moans… when you sat down and we were fucking her upstairs…”
Rajesh’s cock throbbed harder inside his already tight trousers. The pictures Vicky painted mixed with the real memory— the soft traditional body on the big bed, Rohan’s thick cock stretching her open, the wet slap of skin, the way she had tried to stay quiet at first and then failed completely. Her moans had risen higher and higher until they cracked into open cries. He remembered how his own cock had stayed rock-hard the entire time he sat downstairs pretending to check papers.
Vicky watched the effect on him with open satisfaction and continued, voice almost gentle.
“So I am warning you, Rajesh, about Rohan… But to be honest, not only Ananya… but your sister also so beautiful…”
Rajesh’s head snapped toward him. Vicky raised both hands slightly, still smiling.
“Not like that… just casually telling. But your wife Ananya… top. How the college students and staff are watching her daily… and how they are controlling themselves…”
Rajesh barely heard the last part. His mind was still upstairs in the villa— the traditional colleague’s wife on her back, legs forced open, Rohan’s cock disappearing into her again and again while she moaned and cried exactly the way Ananya had moaned that same night. The thought of those same men now sitting on his own marital bed, describing how they would make Ananya sound the same way right here, made his cock pulse so hard a fresh bead of precum pushed through the cloth.
He could feel the wet spot spreading. He could not adjust himself without drawing more attention. He simply stood there, jaw tight, fully hard, while Vicky and Rohan lounged on the exact mattress where his wife slept every night and kept feeding him the filthy memories.
From the kitchen Ananya’s soft voice floated down the corridor, ordinary and unaware.
“Rajesh… food is ready… please come…”
Neither Vicky nor Rohan moved immediately. They simply looked at the obvious, straining bulge in Rajesh’s trousers, then at each other, and smiled the same slow, shared smile that promised the evening was far from over.
Vicky leaned back further on the marital mattress, completely at ease, and continued in the same low, conversational tone.
“You know, Rajesh… when you came to meet with some files to the villa that day… also a housewife of his colleague came. She is so traditional… but our Rohan makes her loud moans and cries. You saw on that day?”
Rajesh’s jaw tightened. The memory was still sharp. He had been downstairs with the files, waiting, when the unmistakable sounds had drifted down from the upper room—high, broken, helpless. He had sat there listening, cock hardening against his will, while Rohan took that soft, traditional woman until her cries filled the entire villa.
He whispered, almost against his own will.
“Haan… yes… I saw.”
Vicky’s smile widened.
“You heard that traditional wife’s moans… when you sat down and we were fucking her upstairs…”
Rajesh’s cock throbbed harder inside his already tight trousers. The pictures Vicky painted mixed with the real memory— the soft traditional body on the big bed, Rohan’s thick cock stretching her open, the wet slap of skin, the way she had tried to stay quiet at first and then failed completely. Her moans had risen higher and higher until they cracked into open cries. He remembered how his own cock had stayed rock-hard the entire time he sat downstairs pretending to check papers.
Vicky watched the effect on him with open satisfaction and continued, voice almost gentle.
“So I am warning you, Rajesh, about Rohan… But to be honest, not only Ananya… but your sister also so beautiful…”
Rajesh’s head snapped toward him. Vicky raised both hands slightly, still smiling.
“Not like that… just casually telling. But your wife Ananya… top. How the college students and staff are watching her daily… and how they are controlling themselves…”
Rajesh barely heard the last part. His mind was still upstairs in the villa— the traditional colleague’s wife on her back, legs forced open, Rohan’s cock disappearing into her again and again while she moaned and cried exactly the way Ananya had moaned that same night. The thought of those same men now sitting on his own marital bed, describing how they would make Ananya sound the same way right here, made his cock pulse so hard a fresh bead of precum pushed through the cloth.
He could feel the wet spot spreading. He could not adjust himself without drawing more attention. He simply stood there, jaw tight, fully hard, while Vicky and Rohan lounged on the exact mattress where his wife slept every night and kept feeding him the filthy memories.
From the kitchen Ananya’s soft voice floated down the corridor, ordinary and unaware.
“Rajesh… food is ready… please come…”
Neither Vicky nor Rohan moved immediately. They simply looked at the obvious, straining bulge in Rajesh’s trousers, then at each other, and smiled the same slow, shared smile that promised the evening was far from over.
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