Yesterday, 04:29 PM
She was still hugged against me when her body suddenly stiffened. She pulled back just enough to look at my face. The want that had been clear in her eyes wavered. Shame moved across her features.
“No,” she whispered. Her voice shook. “Rajesh… this is wrong. He is not my husband. I should not let another man fuck me. Even if my body wants it. Even if I am wet. It is not right. I am getting carried away by this place.”
Her hands loosened on my back. She looked down. The yellow chiffon saree seemed heavier on her now. Her breathing was uneven.
I cupped her face gently and made her meet my eyes.
“Look at me,” I said. “You are not doing this alone. I am here. I kissed the same mouth he kissed. I tasted him on you and it made me harder. This is not only your want. It is ours tonight.”
She bit her lip. A tear gathered at the corner of her eye but did not fall. Her hands came back to my waist, hesitant.
“But after?” she asked. “When we go home… will you still see me the same? Will you think I am dirty?”
“I will see you as my wife who trusted me enough to feel this,” I answered. I kissed her forehead, then her wet lips, soft and sure. “Nothing changes between us. If you want to stop, we stop. But if the only thing holding you back is fear of what I will think… then do not be afraid. I want this with you.”
She searched my face for a long moment. Her body slowly softened again. She hugged me tightly, face pressed to my neck, a shaky breath leaving her.
“You promise you will stay?” she whispered.
“I promise.”
She nodded against my skin. The resistance eased out of her shoulders. She stayed hugged to me, still scared, still horny, but no longer pulling away.
Naresh came back from his smoke. The smell of cigarette clung lightly to his shirt. He stopped in front of us, eyes moving from my face to hers. My wife was still close against my side, the yellow chiffon saree slightly creased from how tightly she had hugged me.
“What have you decided?” he asked. His voice was calm, but direct.
We looked at each other. Neither of us spoke at first. Her eyes were wide, asking me without words. She nudged my arm gently with her elbow, a small pressure that said you tell him. Her cheeks were flushed. Her hand found mine again and held tight.
I turned to Naresh.
“We have decided,” I said. “We will go upstairs. She wants it. I want to be there.”
Naresh studied us both for a moment. Then he nodded once.
“Good,” he said. “But understand this before we go up. Once we are in the room, do not change your minds. No sudden shame. No stopping halfway because it feels too real. If we start, we finish. She gets the full memory. You stay and watch. Are we clear?”
My wife’s fingers tightened in mine. She looked at me, then at him. Her voice came out soft but steady.
“We will not change our minds,” she said.
“We will not,” I added.
Naresh’s mouth curved slightly. He reached out and touched her waist once, light over the yellow chiffon.
“Then let us go,” he said. “The rooms are ready upstairs.”
She took a slow breath and nodded. We turned together toward the stairs, her hand locked in mine, the decision no longer hovering but already moving with us.
The lift doors opened on the floor. We stepped inside. The space was small, mirrors on three sides. Naresh pressed the button for the top floor. The doors closed. Soft music played. The yellow chiffon saree looked brighter under the white light.
He did not wait. He turned to her at once and drew her against him. His mouth found her neck. He kissed her there, slow and open, just below the ear, then lower, along the side of her throat. She gasped softly. Her hand tightened in mine. The yellow blouse rose quickly with her breath.
“You are already trembling,” he murmured against her throat. “Good. Do not fight it now.”
He kissed her neck again, wetter, sucking gently at the place where her pulse beat. His hand slid to her waist, pulling her hips closer. She made a small, helpless sound. Her eyes half-closed. In the mirror I watched her body soften against him, the pallu slipping lower, her wide hips shifting forward.
“Feel how easily you open for me,” he said, voice low, tempting. “By the time we reach the room you will be ready. No more thinking. Only this.”
She turned her face toward me, eyes dark and wet with want, even as she stayed in his arms. I held her hand tighter. The lift rose. He kept kissing her neck and the soft place under her jaw, slow and thorough, while she breathed faster and let him tempt her all the way up.
The lift doors opened on the top floor. Naresh led us down a short corridor. He stopped at a door, unlocked it with a card, and pushed it open. We stepped inside. The room was clean and quiet. A wide bed with white sheets. Soft lamps on either side. Heavy curtains drawn. The door closed behind us with a soft click.
My wife stood just inside, still holding my hand. The yellow chiffon saree looked softer in the low light. Her neck showed the faint marks from his mouth. She looked at the bed, then at me, then at Naresh. Her breathing was uneven. Her cheeks were flushed.
Naresh locked the door. He turned to her.
“Come here,” he said.
She hesitated one second, then let go of my hand and walked to him. He drew her close at once. His hands settled on her waist over the yellow chiffon. She looked back at me once, eyes dark, asking without words if this was still all right. I nodded.
“We are here now,” Naresh said against her ear. “No more waiting.”
She swallowed. Her body stayed soft against him. The yellow blouse rose and fell quickly. I moved to the chair near the bed and sat, close enough to see everything, my cock already hard inside the black pants. The room was quiet except for her breathing and the low sound of the city far below.
Then we all moved quickly. She stepped back and began undressing, watching both of us. The yellow chiffon saree fell. The yellow blouse and white bra came off. Her heavy breasts spilled free. She pushed the white petticoat and maroon panties down and stood naked, wet, giggling softly when Naresh called her whore under his breath. At the same time I took my clothes off and got naked. Naresh did the same. We both watched her. She watched our hard cocks, cheeks flushed.
Naresh got on the bed first and lay back. I stepped to her and kissed her, passionate and deep, tasting him still on her mouth. She moaned into the kiss and hugged me briefly.
“You taste like him,” I whispered against her lips.
“I know,” she whispered back, shameless. “It is making me so horny. Are you okay with this?”
“Yes, Sudha,” I said, kissing her again. “I love seeing you like this. Go to him. I am right here with you.”
“Don’t let go of me,” she breathed.
“I won’t.”
She nodded, eyes dark, and climbed onto the bed. She moved over to Naresh and joined him, straddling his thighs, leaning down to kiss him again while I followed and settled beside them, hand finding hers.
She got on the bed hornily, almost clumsy with want. She crawled over Naresh and kissed his lips first, deep and open. A soft giggle escaped against his mouth before it turned into a moan. Then she moved down. She kissed his chest, lips lingering, tongue flicking once. Her heavy breasts hung and brushed him as she went lower.
I settled beside them, one hand resting lightly on her back. She did not speak. She was already lost in it. She reached his cock, hard and thick, and kissed the head softly. Then she licked the underside, slow. A small giggle left her when he groaned. She took him into her mouth, tasting him properly, sucking gently at first, then deeper. Her ass stayed raised, pussy wet and open. Naresh watched her, hand in her hair.
“That’s it, whore,” he said. “Suck it.”
The word made her moan around him. She took him deeper, eyes half-closed, fully enjoying the taste and the weight of him on her tongue. I stayed close, stroking her back, cock throbbing as I watched her lose herself in it. The enjoyment was strong. A sharp twist of regret still moved through me, but I said nothing, letting her have this without distraction.
She kept sucking his cock, slow at first, then deeper. Her mouth moved wetly up and down his cock. Soft gagging sounds mixed with her muffled moans. Saliva shone on her lips and on his cock. She was fully enjoying it, eyes half-closed, one hand stroking the base of his cock. Her heavy breasts swayed with every bob of her head. Her ass stayed high, pussy dripping onto the sheets.
Naresh groaned, hand tight in her hair. He looked at me.
“Look at her,” he said. “She is taking my cock so well. Your wife is a natural whore.”
“She is,” I answered, voice low. My hand moved over her back and squeezed her ass. “She loves it. I can see it.”
She moaned around his cock at our words and took his cock deeper, throat working. A shaky giggle vibrated against his cock before she settled into a steady rhythm. I loved watching her lose herself on his cock. The sharp regret still flickered underneath, but I pushed it down and kept talking to him while she enjoyed every second.
She kept sucking his cock in a steady rhythm, mouth wet and eager. Saliva dripped down his cock onto her fingers. Her heavy breasts swayed. Her ass stayed raised, pussy glistening and open. She was lost in the taste, eyes closed now, soft moans vibrating around his cock.
Naresh watched her, then looked at me again.
“She is getting wetter the more she sucks,” he said. “Her pussy is dripping on the bed. You can see it from here.”
“I see it,” I answered. My hand slid lower, fingers brushing the wetness on her pussy from behind. She shivered but did not stop. “She is completely into your cock.”
“Good,” Naresh said. “Let her enjoy it a little longer. Then I am going to fuck this wet pussy.”
She moaned louder around his cock at the words, taking his cock deeper for a moment, a small giggle escaping before she went back to sucking. I kept touching her gently, cock throbbing, loving how shameless she looked while the sharp edge of regret still moved quietly underneath.
Naresh gently pulled her mouth off his cock. A string of saliva connected her lips to the head for a second before it broke. She looked up, dazed and horny, breathing hard. He guided her onto her back on the white sheets. She opened her thighs wide at once, pussy swollen and dripping.
“She is ready,” Naresh said to me. “Look at that pussy. She needs to be fucked.”
“She does,” I answered. I moved closer and took her hand, locking our fingers. “Sudha, look at me.”
Her eyes found mine. They were dark and glassy.
“I want it,” she whispered only to me. “Please… let him.”
Naresh knelt between her legs and rubbed the head of his cock up and down her wet slit. She gasped, hips lifting. He pushed in slowly. Her pussy stretched around his cock, inch by inch, until he was buried deep. A long, shaky moan left her. She squeezed my hand tightly.
“So tight,” Naresh groaned, speaking to me. “She is gripping my cock already.”
I watched his cock disappear inside her, loved the sight, and felt the sharp regret cut through at the same time. She held my hand and looked only at me while he began to move.
Naresh began to fuck her with long, deep strokes. His cock slid in and out of her wet pussy, the sound slick and clear. Her heavy breasts bounced with every thrust. She held my hand tightly, eyes locked on me, lips parted.
“She feels incredible,” Naresh said to me, voice rough. “So wet and tight around my cock. She is taking every inch.”
“I can see it,” I answered. I leaned down and kissed her softly. “You are doing so well, Sudha. Let him fuck you.”
She moaned into the kiss, then whispered only to me.
“He is so deep… ahhh… it feels so good. I love it. Don’t let go of my hand.”
“I won’t,” I said.
Naresh gripped her wide hips and thrust harder. Her pussy clenched visibly around his cock. She gasped, back arching, completely open beneath him. I loved the way she looked, the sounds she made, the way she clung to me. The sharp regret still moved through me, but it stayed quieter under the heat of watching her enjoy every stroke.
“No,” she whispered. Her voice shook. “Rajesh… this is wrong. He is not my husband. I should not let another man fuck me. Even if my body wants it. Even if I am wet. It is not right. I am getting carried away by this place.”
Her hands loosened on my back. She looked down. The yellow chiffon saree seemed heavier on her now. Her breathing was uneven.
I cupped her face gently and made her meet my eyes.
“Look at me,” I said. “You are not doing this alone. I am here. I kissed the same mouth he kissed. I tasted him on you and it made me harder. This is not only your want. It is ours tonight.”
She bit her lip. A tear gathered at the corner of her eye but did not fall. Her hands came back to my waist, hesitant.
“But after?” she asked. “When we go home… will you still see me the same? Will you think I am dirty?”
“I will see you as my wife who trusted me enough to feel this,” I answered. I kissed her forehead, then her wet lips, soft and sure. “Nothing changes between us. If you want to stop, we stop. But if the only thing holding you back is fear of what I will think… then do not be afraid. I want this with you.”
She searched my face for a long moment. Her body slowly softened again. She hugged me tightly, face pressed to my neck, a shaky breath leaving her.
“You promise you will stay?” she whispered.
“I promise.”
She nodded against my skin. The resistance eased out of her shoulders. She stayed hugged to me, still scared, still horny, but no longer pulling away.
Naresh came back from his smoke. The smell of cigarette clung lightly to his shirt. He stopped in front of us, eyes moving from my face to hers. My wife was still close against my side, the yellow chiffon saree slightly creased from how tightly she had hugged me.
“What have you decided?” he asked. His voice was calm, but direct.
We looked at each other. Neither of us spoke at first. Her eyes were wide, asking me without words. She nudged my arm gently with her elbow, a small pressure that said you tell him. Her cheeks were flushed. Her hand found mine again and held tight.
I turned to Naresh.
“We have decided,” I said. “We will go upstairs. She wants it. I want to be there.”
Naresh studied us both for a moment. Then he nodded once.
“Good,” he said. “But understand this before we go up. Once we are in the room, do not change your minds. No sudden shame. No stopping halfway because it feels too real. If we start, we finish. She gets the full memory. You stay and watch. Are we clear?”
My wife’s fingers tightened in mine. She looked at me, then at him. Her voice came out soft but steady.
“We will not change our minds,” she said.
“We will not,” I added.
Naresh’s mouth curved slightly. He reached out and touched her waist once, light over the yellow chiffon.
“Then let us go,” he said. “The rooms are ready upstairs.”
She took a slow breath and nodded. We turned together toward the stairs, her hand locked in mine, the decision no longer hovering but already moving with us.
The lift doors opened on the floor. We stepped inside. The space was small, mirrors on three sides. Naresh pressed the button for the top floor. The doors closed. Soft music played. The yellow chiffon saree looked brighter under the white light.
He did not wait. He turned to her at once and drew her against him. His mouth found her neck. He kissed her there, slow and open, just below the ear, then lower, along the side of her throat. She gasped softly. Her hand tightened in mine. The yellow blouse rose quickly with her breath.
“You are already trembling,” he murmured against her throat. “Good. Do not fight it now.”
He kissed her neck again, wetter, sucking gently at the place where her pulse beat. His hand slid to her waist, pulling her hips closer. She made a small, helpless sound. Her eyes half-closed. In the mirror I watched her body soften against him, the pallu slipping lower, her wide hips shifting forward.
“Feel how easily you open for me,” he said, voice low, tempting. “By the time we reach the room you will be ready. No more thinking. Only this.”
She turned her face toward me, eyes dark and wet with want, even as she stayed in his arms. I held her hand tighter. The lift rose. He kept kissing her neck and the soft place under her jaw, slow and thorough, while she breathed faster and let him tempt her all the way up.
The lift doors opened on the top floor. Naresh led us down a short corridor. He stopped at a door, unlocked it with a card, and pushed it open. We stepped inside. The room was clean and quiet. A wide bed with white sheets. Soft lamps on either side. Heavy curtains drawn. The door closed behind us with a soft click.
My wife stood just inside, still holding my hand. The yellow chiffon saree looked softer in the low light. Her neck showed the faint marks from his mouth. She looked at the bed, then at me, then at Naresh. Her breathing was uneven. Her cheeks were flushed.
Naresh locked the door. He turned to her.
“Come here,” he said.
She hesitated one second, then let go of my hand and walked to him. He drew her close at once. His hands settled on her waist over the yellow chiffon. She looked back at me once, eyes dark, asking without words if this was still all right. I nodded.
“We are here now,” Naresh said against her ear. “No more waiting.”
She swallowed. Her body stayed soft against him. The yellow blouse rose and fell quickly. I moved to the chair near the bed and sat, close enough to see everything, my cock already hard inside the black pants. The room was quiet except for her breathing and the low sound of the city far below.
Then we all moved quickly. She stepped back and began undressing, watching both of us. The yellow chiffon saree fell. The yellow blouse and white bra came off. Her heavy breasts spilled free. She pushed the white petticoat and maroon panties down and stood naked, wet, giggling softly when Naresh called her whore under his breath. At the same time I took my clothes off and got naked. Naresh did the same. We both watched her. She watched our hard cocks, cheeks flushed.
Naresh got on the bed first and lay back. I stepped to her and kissed her, passionate and deep, tasting him still on her mouth. She moaned into the kiss and hugged me briefly.
“You taste like him,” I whispered against her lips.
“I know,” she whispered back, shameless. “It is making me so horny. Are you okay with this?”
“Yes, Sudha,” I said, kissing her again. “I love seeing you like this. Go to him. I am right here with you.”
“Don’t let go of me,” she breathed.
“I won’t.”
She nodded, eyes dark, and climbed onto the bed. She moved over to Naresh and joined him, straddling his thighs, leaning down to kiss him again while I followed and settled beside them, hand finding hers.
She got on the bed hornily, almost clumsy with want. She crawled over Naresh and kissed his lips first, deep and open. A soft giggle escaped against his mouth before it turned into a moan. Then she moved down. She kissed his chest, lips lingering, tongue flicking once. Her heavy breasts hung and brushed him as she went lower.
I settled beside them, one hand resting lightly on her back. She did not speak. She was already lost in it. She reached his cock, hard and thick, and kissed the head softly. Then she licked the underside, slow. A small giggle left her when he groaned. She took him into her mouth, tasting him properly, sucking gently at first, then deeper. Her ass stayed raised, pussy wet and open. Naresh watched her, hand in her hair.
“That’s it, whore,” he said. “Suck it.”
The word made her moan around him. She took him deeper, eyes half-closed, fully enjoying the taste and the weight of him on her tongue. I stayed close, stroking her back, cock throbbing as I watched her lose herself in it. The enjoyment was strong. A sharp twist of regret still moved through me, but I said nothing, letting her have this without distraction.
She kept sucking his cock, slow at first, then deeper. Her mouth moved wetly up and down his cock. Soft gagging sounds mixed with her muffled moans. Saliva shone on her lips and on his cock. She was fully enjoying it, eyes half-closed, one hand stroking the base of his cock. Her heavy breasts swayed with every bob of her head. Her ass stayed high, pussy dripping onto the sheets.
Naresh groaned, hand tight in her hair. He looked at me.
“Look at her,” he said. “She is taking my cock so well. Your wife is a natural whore.”
“She is,” I answered, voice low. My hand moved over her back and squeezed her ass. “She loves it. I can see it.”
She moaned around his cock at our words and took his cock deeper, throat working. A shaky giggle vibrated against his cock before she settled into a steady rhythm. I loved watching her lose herself on his cock. The sharp regret still flickered underneath, but I pushed it down and kept talking to him while she enjoyed every second.
She kept sucking his cock in a steady rhythm, mouth wet and eager. Saliva dripped down his cock onto her fingers. Her heavy breasts swayed. Her ass stayed raised, pussy glistening and open. She was lost in the taste, eyes closed now, soft moans vibrating around his cock.
Naresh watched her, then looked at me again.
“She is getting wetter the more she sucks,” he said. “Her pussy is dripping on the bed. You can see it from here.”
“I see it,” I answered. My hand slid lower, fingers brushing the wetness on her pussy from behind. She shivered but did not stop. “She is completely into your cock.”
“Good,” Naresh said. “Let her enjoy it a little longer. Then I am going to fuck this wet pussy.”
She moaned louder around his cock at the words, taking his cock deeper for a moment, a small giggle escaping before she went back to sucking. I kept touching her gently, cock throbbing, loving how shameless she looked while the sharp edge of regret still moved quietly underneath.
Naresh gently pulled her mouth off his cock. A string of saliva connected her lips to the head for a second before it broke. She looked up, dazed and horny, breathing hard. He guided her onto her back on the white sheets. She opened her thighs wide at once, pussy swollen and dripping.
“She is ready,” Naresh said to me. “Look at that pussy. She needs to be fucked.”
“She does,” I answered. I moved closer and took her hand, locking our fingers. “Sudha, look at me.”
Her eyes found mine. They were dark and glassy.
“I want it,” she whispered only to me. “Please… let him.”
Naresh knelt between her legs and rubbed the head of his cock up and down her wet slit. She gasped, hips lifting. He pushed in slowly. Her pussy stretched around his cock, inch by inch, until he was buried deep. A long, shaky moan left her. She squeezed my hand tightly.
“So tight,” Naresh groaned, speaking to me. “She is gripping my cock already.”
I watched his cock disappear inside her, loved the sight, and felt the sharp regret cut through at the same time. She held my hand and looked only at me while he began to move.
Naresh began to fuck her with long, deep strokes. His cock slid in and out of her wet pussy, the sound slick and clear. Her heavy breasts bounced with every thrust. She held my hand tightly, eyes locked on me, lips parted.
“She feels incredible,” Naresh said to me, voice rough. “So wet and tight around my cock. She is taking every inch.”
“I can see it,” I answered. I leaned down and kissed her softly. “You are doing so well, Sudha. Let him fuck you.”
She moaned into the kiss, then whispered only to me.
“He is so deep… ahhh… it feels so good. I love it. Don’t let go of my hand.”
“I won’t,” I said.
Naresh gripped her wide hips and thrust harder. Her pussy clenched visibly around his cock. She gasped, back arching, completely open beneath him. I loved the way she looked, the sounds she made, the way she clung to me. The sharp regret still moved through me, but it stayed quieter under the heat of watching her enjoy every stroke.
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