[Indian True Lust stories]

wer is updates, too much slow, even the story disappears despite bookmark of tab

Please have patience brother. You will be satisfied with the coming parts. I try to generate images as per the story so it takes time

[Indian True Lust stories]

As the night deepened, the farmhouse became a playground of pleasures, a sanctuary where desires were explored and boundaries were tested. Shweta, with Raj by her side, stepped into this world with an open heart and a willing spirit, ready to embrace the unknown and the pleasures that awaited her.

Raj, feeling the weight of the day, decided to take a shower to refresh himself. As the water cascaded over his body, he let out a sigh of relief, the tension of the journey slowly melting away. He stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist, and made his way to the bedroom. There, he found a newspaper left on the bed, a remnant of the previous occupants. He settled into a chair, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light over the pages as he began to read.

Meanwhile, Shweta, exhausted from the long trip and the intense encounter with Mohit, retreated to the bathroom. The warm water of the shower enveloped her, a soothing balm to her aching muscles and weary soul. As she lathered her body, her hands lingered on the places where Mohit had touched her, the memory of his passion still fresh in her mind.

Her fingers traced the contours of her body, exploring the curves and valleys that had been awakened by his touch. Unconsciously, her hand moved between her thighs, her fingers finding the sensitive flesh that still throbbed with desire. She let out a soft moan, the sound muffled by the spray of the shower, as she began to stroke herself, her body responding with a hunger that surprised her.

The touch of an unknown person in her husband's presence had left her with a sense of liberation, a freedom to explore her desires without the usual constraints. Her fingers moved with a newfound confidence, teasing and exploring, building the pleasure with each passing moment. She inserted two fingers into her wetness, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. The water from the shower mixed with her arousal, creating a slick, inviting warmth that heightened her senses.

As she continued to finger herself, her other hand found its way to her breasts, squeezing and teasing the sensitive nipples until they stood erect and aching. She pinched them gently, the sharp pain mixing with the pleasure, sending jolts of electricity straight to her core. Her fingers moved faster, deeper, her body arching with the intensity of the sensations.



With a sudden surge of boldness, she inserted a third finger, the stretch and fill sending her over the edge. Her body trembled as the orgasm built, her muscles clenching and releasing with each wave of pleasure. She bit her lip to stifle her cries, her body shaking with the force of her release. The waterfall of her orgasm left her breathless, her body vibrating with the aftershocks of pleasure.

Shweta leaned against the shower wall, her body slick with water and sweat, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The intensity of the experience left her dazed, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and sensations. She took a deep breath, her body still tingling with the remnants of her climax, and began to wash away the evidence of her pleasure.

As she stepped out of the shower, she wrapped a towel around her body, the soft fabric a comforting embrace. She took a moment to compose herself, her mind still reeling from the intensity of her experience. She applied lotion to her legs, the cool, soothing touch a welcome contrast to the heat of her body.

Just as she finished, she heard Raj's voice calling from outside the bathroom. "Shweta, how much longer will you be? I'm getting hungry, and I think dinner is about to start."


Shweta took a deep breath, her mind racing with thoughts of what to do next. Her saree and panties, spoiled by Mohit's passion, lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. She knew she couldn't wear them again without washing them, and the thought of Raj seeing the stains filled her with a mix of embarrassment and excitement.

She quickly washed her clothes, her hands trembling slightly as she rinsed away the evidence of Mohit's desire. As she hung them up to dry, she wrapped the towel more securely around her body, ensuring that she was covered from boobs to her ass.

Raj called out again, his voice tinged with a hint of impatience. "Shweta, are you almost done? Mohit is here to escort us to dinner."

Shweta's heart raced as she opened the bathroom door, stepping out into the room where Raj and Mohit were waiting. She saw the hunger in Mohit's eyes, the unspoken promise of more to come, and felt a thrill of anticipation course through her veins.

[Indian True Lust stories]

Raj, ever the observant husband, noticed the tension in the room and the way Mohit's eyes lingered on Shweta. He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Shweta, Mohit says Komilla might have some extra clothes for you. He's going to check with her."

Mohit nodded, his smile wicked and knowing. "Yes, I'll be right back with something for you to wear. Komilla has a few things that might fit you, though I can't promise they'll be perfect."

With that, Mohit left the room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. Shweta let out a sigh of relief, her body still humming with the aftereffects of her shower and the promise of what was to come.

Raj approached her, his arms wrapping around her in a comforting embrace. "Are you okay, Shweta? You seem a bit flushed."

Shweta nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm fine, Raj. Just a bit overwhelmed, that's all."

Just then, Mohit returned, a bralette and a small skirt in his hand. He held them up, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Komilla said these should fit you. Though I must say, I think you'd look even better in nothing at all."

Shweta blushed, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. She took the clothes from Mohit, her fingers brushing against his, sending a spark of electricity through her body.

"Thank you, Mohit," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Mohit smiled, his eyes never leaving hers. "My pleasure, Shweta. Always my pleasure."

As Shweta hurried towards the balcony, her heart raced with a mix of excitement and apprehension. The towel wrapped around her body clung to her curves, the fabric barely concealing her nakedness. She moved with a sense of urgency, her bare feet padding softly against the cool tiles of the floor. The balcony, a small, intimate space, seemed to beckon her, offering a moment of respite from the charged atmosphere inside the room.

Mohit, ever the observant and opportunistic lover, noticed her movement and followed her with a predatory grace. His eyes, dark and intense, never left her as he approached, his presence a tangible force that seemed to fill the small space. The balcony, barely large enough for one person to stand comfortably, became a cramped, intimate enclosure as he joined her, his body pressing close to hers.

Shweta's breath hitched as Mohit stood behind her, his presence overwhelming and intoxicating. She could feel the heat of his body, the firm press of his chest against her back, and the hard length of him against her ass. He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear, his breath hot and seductive. "You look stunning, Shweta," he murmured, his voice a low, sensual purr. "Absolutely irresistible."



Shweta froze, her body tensing as a wave of conflicting emotions washed over her. The proximity to Mohit, the intimacy of their position, and the knowledge that Raj was just a few feet away sent her senses into overdrive. She could feel the pounding of her heart, the rush of blood in her ears, and the throb of desire between her thighs. Yet, the thought of Raj discovering them in this compromising position filled her with a mix of fear and guilt.

Mohit, sensing her hesitation, began to explore her body with a confident, possessive touch. His hands roamed over her shoulders, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of her neck before tangling in her hair. He pulled her head back gently, exposing the vulnerable column of her throat. His lips found her pulse point, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through her body.



Raj Saw something was going on in the balcony but could not get a better view of the thing So he thought of seeing what Mohit is playing with.

Raj : " Shweta darling, I am going downstairs. I am very hungry, You come with Mohit. "

Saying this Raj hid himself in the bathroom where a small window was there on the top through which a proper view of the balcony is visible without letting anyone know about his presence.

Shweta's eyes fluttered closed, her mind a whirlwind of sensations and thoughts. She could feel the roughness of Mohit's stubble against her sensitive skin, the wet heat of his mouth, and the firm press of his body against hers. Her nipples hardened, pressing against the towel, aching for his touch. She bit her lip, stifling a moan as his hands moved lower, his fingers brushing against the swell of her breasts.


Mohit's other hand snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against him. She could feel the hard length of his cock, the promise of pleasure that left her breathless with anticipation. He ground against her, the friction sending waves of pleasure through her body, making her ache with need.


Shweta's hands gripped the balcony railing, her knuckles turning white as she tried to maintain some semblance of control. Her body betrayed her, arching back into Mohit's touch, inviting more. She could feel the dampness between her thighs, the evidence of her arousal, and the growing need for release. 

Mohit's lips moved from her neck to her ear, his teeth nipping at the lobe before soothing the sting with his tongue. "You want this, Shweta," he whispered, his voice a low, seductive promise. "You want me to take you right here, right now. Don't deny it."

Shweta : " Please leave me Mohit, You are my friend Komilla's Husband. You should not be doing this with me. Moreover if Raj see us like this he will be extremely sad" 

Shweta's mind raced, a battle of desire and reason. She knew she should push him away, should maintain some sense of decency and loyalty to Raj. Yet, the allure of Mohit's touch, the promise of pleasure, and the thrill of the forbidden were too intoxicating to resist. She let out a soft, shuddering breath, her body melting into his embrace.




Mohit took her response as encouragement, his hands growing bolder, his touches more insistent. He untied the towel, letting it fall to the floor, exposing her naked body to the cool night air. His hands roamed over her curves, exploring every inch of her flesh with a reverent touch. He cupped her breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples, eliciting gasps of pleasure from her lips.



Shweta's head fell back against his shoulder, her eyes closed as she surrendered to the sensations. Mohit's mouth found hers in a passionate, hungry kiss, his tongue exploring her depths, tasting her, claiming her. She kissed him back with equal fervor, her hands reaching up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer.



Mohit's hands moved lower, his fingers tracing the curve of her ass before sliding between her thighs. He found her wet and ready, her folds slick with desire. He teased her entrance, his fingers circling her clit, sending jolts of pleasure through her body. Shweta bucked against his touch, her hips moving of their own accord, seeking more.


Mohit chuckled against her lips, a low, knowing sound. "You're so wet, Shweta. So ready for me." He slipped a finger inside her, then another, stretching her, preparing her for his cock. 

Shweta moaned, "Ahhhhhhhhhhhh Mooohitttt, shhhhhhh" her body clenching around his fingers, her hips moving in a rhythmic dance of desire. 

Meantime Shweta didn't realized that she is completely naked on the balcony in Mohit's grip and the towel which was barely covering her up is now lying on the balcony floor under Mohit's feet. She was soo lost in Mohit's touch all that she can say is " Mohit, Mohit,, no Mohit aahhhhhhhhh" 



The sound of a door opening and closing reached their ears, a distant footstep approaching them, but Mohit didn't paid it any mind. Shweta was resisting but her body was not in her control. Her body was lost in a world of pleasure and passion, where nothing else mattered. Mohit continued to finger her, his thumb circling her clit, building her pleasure with each stroke.

Shweta's body tensed, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she neared the edge of orgasm. Mohit, sensing her impending release, increased the pace of his fingers, his thumb pressing down on her clit, sending her spiraling over the edge. 

Shweta : Mohit aaaahhhhhhhhh (She cried out, her voice a mix of pleasure and desperation, her body shaking with the force of her release she sprayed a lot of fluid on Mohit while having a massive orgasm).

As the waves of pleasure subsided, Shweta leaned against Mohit, her body still shaking because of the orgasm she had just now. Mohit stood up, and said "That was incredible, Shweta," he murmured, his voice a low, satisfied rumble. "And we're just getting started."

Suddenly a voice said " It seems you guys are enjoying well already"



Shweta's eyes fluttered open, her mind suddenly returned to reality. The cool night air against her naked skin and the firm press of Mohit's body against hers brought her back to the present. She turned and saw it was Komilla who was standing there with a mischievous smile on her face.

Shweta : " Komilla it is not what you think , it's an accidental mistake "

Komilla : " Relax Shweta, nothing has happened. There are lot of dicks here to play with"

Shweta was ashamed to hear this. Komilla patted Mohit and asked him to come for dinner and informed Shweta that she has brought a dress for the night to surpass for shweta. And she has to adjust in that or else she has to stay naked. Shweta embarrassed and still cannot meet Komilla's eyes said in a low voice " I will adjust myself, just a matter of tonight".

After half an hour Shweta joined the reaming team for dinner. The dress which Komilla had left for her was a tank top and a short. Everyone's eyes were glued to her as the dress was barely covering up her curves. 

 

[Indian True Lust stories]

Next Update

Inside Komilla’s sun-drenched farmhouse lawn, Rashmi traced a finger through spilled jam on the marble counter. "Someone’s eager," she purred, nodding toward Mohit, who’d just crushed a strawberry with unnecessary force. Arjun snorted into his coffee, while Danny leaned back, chair creaking under his weight. "Eager? He’s been dreaming of licking Shweta's cherries since dawn." Mohit smirked, wiping juice from his chin. "Breakfast shouldn’t be boring." Komilla shot them a warning look as Raj shuffled in, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

Rashmi : Hii Raj, how was sleep last night ? And where is your hot wife ?

Raj: She is sleeping like an ass from last night. Hope she wakes up soon and join us for breakfast.

Danny: Hell yaa. Mohit said she has a hell of an ass smooth like butter ( and started laughing)

Mohit: common guys don't make it hard for Raj to swallow his breakfast. Bdw Shweta has a heavy ass I know that for sure. I lifted her and carried her for long. 

The mood shifted when Shweta entered, She was dbangd in Komilla’s borrowed clothes, which clung to her body in all the right places.

 The tank top, thin and flimsy, strained against her boobs, leaving little to the imagination. Her dark nipples were clearly visible beneath the fabric, a tantalizing hint of what lay beneath. The shorts she wore were equally revealing, barely containing the curve of her hips and the swell of her ass. Every movement she made was a seductive dance.

Shweta was standing there will a juice glass and smiling towards everyone. 

"Delicious," Danny murmured under his breath, his eyes roaming over Shweta’s body with unbridled lust. His comment earned him muffled laughter from the others, a shared understanding of the raw desire that hung heavy in the air.

Raj, who had been sipping his coffee with a semblance of calm, froze mid-sip. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the mug, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of his wife. Rashmi, ever the opportunist, sidled up to Raj, her breath warm against his ear. "Leave the dessert for others, Raj. Holi is for bachelors," she purred, her voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down his spine. Her hand trailed down his arm, a possessive gesture that left no room for misunderstanding. "Stick with me."

Raj’s response was a mix of confusion and resignation. He set his mug down with a clink, his eyes flickering between Shweta and Rashmi, unsure of where his loyalties lay in this moment of heightened sensuality. 

After breakfast, the atmosphere shifted from one of casual morning routine to a charged anticipation. Komilla, ever the orchestrator of their pleasures, clapped her hands sharply, the sound echoing through the room with a commanding finality. "Change for Holi! Unlimited drinks, unlimited fun!" Her voice was a sultry promise, laced with the allure of untold delights and forbidden pleasures.

The words hung in the air, a challenge and an invitation all at once. Rashmi, with a wicked grin, vanished into a cropped tee and denim shorts, her choice of attire a deliberate tease, designed to highlight her curves and leave little to the imagination. The fabric hugged her body, accentuating every line and contour, a visual feast for the eyes.

Komilla : "Shweta, my dear, are you ready for a day of fun and frivolity?" Komilla asked, her voice a sultry purr as she approached, a tray of colorful powders and water guns in her hands.

Shweta nodded, a small, tentative smile playing on her lips. "I think so. What do we do?"



Komilla's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Oh, it's simple. We play with colors, we touch, we tease, and we explore. It's all about letting go and embracing the moment."



Rashmi, standing nearby, chimed in, her voice a low, seductive murmur. "And don't worry, Shweta. We'll take good care of you."


Rashmi vanished into a cropped tee and denim shorts. Shweta hesitated, then retreated to fetch her washed saree—the same one stained with Mohit’s release yesterday. She returned transformed: sindur vermilion on her forehead, mangalsutra gold against her throat, bangles chiming with every step. A bride ready for ruin.

[Indian True Lust stories]

Next Update

As Shweta approached the poolside all of them stopped their conversations and was gazing her beauty. The air felt heavy, like right before a storm. Komilla walked around Shweta, her eyes sharp like a knife.

"Such a devoted wife," Komilla said, her voice sweet but full of poison. "But I saw you in the car with Mohit, grinding your ass on his lap when Raj was just outside. And later? On my balcony, completely dressed as a new born baby." She stopped and smiled. "If I hadn't come..."

Danny laughed, a dirty sound. "Mohit would have planted more than just holi stains, no?"

Arjun laughed and leaned against the wall saying "I bet her sindur would have smudged everywhere. Thankfully you intervened komilla, otherwise Mohit would have played holi before all of us"

Shweta's face turned red. Her hands held her pallu so tight her knuckles were white. She felt trapped.

Komilla dipped her hand in a plate of bright red gulal. She walked to Shweta. Before Shweta could move, Komilla’s hand went to the side of her neck, her thumb pressing right on her pulse point. She smeared the red powder there, slow and hard.

"You wear red so well, sauteli," Komilla whispered in her ear.


Shweta gasped, her body stiff. The touch was not a touch. It was a brand.


Danny moved next. He had blue gulal in his palm. He didn't throw it. He stepped behind Shweta. His other hand grabbed her waist, pulling her back against him. She could feel his chest on her back. He brought his blue hand around and slapped the powder hard on her flat stomach.


"Oops," he laughed, his voice right next to her ear. "Colour got a bit low."


Shweta whimpered. The slap stung a little, but it was the shock that made her shake. His hand stayed on her stomach, rubbing the blue powder in circles, spreading it, making her skin tingle.


Arjun came from the front. He had green gulal. He looked at her, a hungry look in his eyes. He took her chin in his hand, forcing her to look up at him.


"Open your mouth," he said, his voice low.


Shweta shook her head, tears in her eyes.


"Arjun, don't," she begged.


But he just smiled. He pinched her cheek, hard, making her gasp. As her mouth opened, he blew a big puff of green powder right inside. It filled her mouth, coating her tongue, making her cough. It tasted dry and chemical. She felt violated.


"Swallow it," Komilla ordered from the side, watching her with cold eyes.


Shweta coughed again, some of the powder flying out. She felt sick.


Rashmi, who was watching with a crazy smile, now joined in. She had a bottle of water. She poured it all over Shweta's chest. The thin, light-coloured saree stuck to her body like a second skin. It became see-through, showing the black lace of her bra. Her nipples were hard, pointing through the wet fabric.





"Now we can see the real colours," Rashmi giggled.


Danny's hand was still on her stomach. Now he slid it up, under her wet saree, his rough fingers touching the soft skin above her navel.


"Look at that," he breathed. "So soft."


Shweta tried to push his hand away, but Komilla grabbed her wrists from behind.


"Na na na," Komilla scolded. "No touching. Only receiving."


Arjun's hands went to her breasts. He didn't waste time. He grabbed them hard, one in each hand, squeezing them through the wet saree and bra. His thumbs found her nipples and rubbed them back and forth, making them even harder.


"See? She likes it," Arjun said to the others.


Shweta shut her eyes, a tear escaping and running down her cheek, mixing with the red gulal on her neck. Her body was betraying her. A hot feeling was spreading from her chest, down to her stomach.


Danny's hand moved lower. It went past the waistband of her saree, under her petticoat. His fingers explored, searching. He found the edge of her panties. He traced the line of lace with his fingertip, so slow it was torture.


"Let's see if she's wet from the water, or from something else," Danny chuckled.


Shweta squirmed, a desperate sound coming from her throat. "Please... stop..."

Rashmi laughed and poured more water on her legs, making the fabric cling to her thighs. Komilla let go of one of Shweta's hands and grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her head back.

"Look at your husband," Komilla commanded.

Shweta opened her eyes. Raj was standing there, watching everything. His face was pale, his eyes wide with horror and shock. He looked like a statue. He wasn't moving. He wasn't saying anything. Just watching.


"See? He's enjoying the show," Komilla lied in her ear. "He always wanted to see you like this."


Danny's fingers finally pushed aside the thin fabric of her panties. One finger slid inside her folds, finding her clit. He rubbed it once, twice, a slow, firm circle.


Shweta's whole body jerked. A gasp escaped her lips. It wasn't a gasp of pain. It was a gasp of pure, unwanted pleasure.


"Found it," Danny said with a grin.


Arjun was still mauling her breasts, his hands rough and possessive. Komilla was still holding her hair, forcing her to watch her husband's blank face. Rashmi was now pouring the last of the water over her ass, her hand following the water, squeezing Shweta's butt cheek.


They were all over her. Hands were everywhere. On her neck, her breasts, her stomach, between her legs, on her ass. They were not fucking her, but they were owning her. Every touch was a claim. Every laugh was a victory.


Danny's finger started moving faster, rubbing her clit in a rhythm that made her legs weak. She could feel the pressure building inside her, a wave she couldn't stop.


"No... please... no..." she moaned, but it was a weak sound.


"Let go, jaaneman," Arjun whispered, squeezing her nipple hard at the same time Danny's finger pressed down.


The wave crashed. Her body arched, a silent scream on her lips. Her hips bucked against Danny's hand. For a horrible, wonderful second, her mind went blank. All she could feel was the pleasure ripping through her.


And then, it was over.


They let her go.


Danny pulled his hand out. Arjun let go of her breasts. Komilla released her hair. Shweta fell to her knees on the floor, a mess of colours and wet fabric. She was shaking.


Raj was still just standing there. His face was a mask of nothingness. He had watched his wife be used, had watched her orgasm from another man's touch. Komilla looked down at Shweta, a satisfied smile on her face.

Rashmi’s laughter was a sharp, drunken crack in the humid air. She didn't walk; she stumbled, a whirlwind of colour and intent, straight into Raj's lap. Her body, slick with a sheen of sweat and smeared powder, slammed against his. she spilled while stumbling some of the drink on Raj's shirt and colours too while she fell on him.

"Drink, hero!" she commanded, her voice a husky giggle.


She didn't wait for an answer. Her free hand, sticky with blue gulal, grabbed the back of his neck, her fingers digging into his skin. She pressed the rim of a wine glass to his lips, tilting it sharply. The deep red liquid flooded his mouth.


Then came the real assault. Her hips, clad only in thin, wet fabric, ground against him. It wasn't a suggestion; it was a statement. The first grind was a hard, deliberate circle, her pelvic bone crushing against his. He choked on the wine, his eyes flying wide in shock.

"Swallow it, Raju," Rashmi breathed, her face inches from his.

He did, a mechanical gulp. His eyes were already starting to lose focus, the alcohol hitting his system like a punch.

She ground against him a second time, slower this time, a filthy, rhythmic rocking that was impossible to ignore. He could feel the heat of her through his clothes. His body, betraying his mind, started to respond. Another glass of wine was pressed to his lips, and this time, he drank without being told. The world was beginning to blur at the edges.

"Pool time!" Komilla sang out, her voice cutting through the haze. It was a declaration, not a suggestion.


She moved with predatory grace, her target clear. She didn't grab Shweta's arm. She snagged the dangling end of her pallu, the silk already damp and clinging. With a sharp, yanking motion, she started pulling, dragging a stunned and silent Shweta across the patio like a doll.


Rashmi, seeing the game, disentangled herself from a now-pliant Raj and skipped after them.

 "Let's help the bride get ready for her bath!" she chirped.


She caught up to Shweta and her hands went straight for the shoulder of her saree. With a deliberate, teasing slowness, she peeled the wet, clinging silk down Shweta's arm. The fabric reluctantly released her skin, exposing the trembling curve of her shoulder and boobs.


"See?" Rashmi whispered, her lips brushing against Shweta's ear. "Your sindur is crying." She traced a single finger down Shweta's collarbone, following a path where the red vermilion had mixed with sweat and water, creating a thin, dripping line that looked terrifyingly like a trail of fresh blood.

Komilla was on her other side. Her eyes were dark, fixed on Shweta's chest. She didn't hesitate. Her hand cupped Shweta's breast through the sheer, wet blouse, her thumb instantly finding the peak of her nipple and pressing down.

"Mohit was crazy about these cherries yesterday," Komilla murmured, her voice a low, possessive hum. "He said they tasted like candy. Should we all have a bite?"

The answer was a splash. With a collective shove, they sent Shweta stumbling backward into the pool. The shock of the cold water stole her breath as she went under, a silent scream swallowed by the chlorine-blue water.


She surfaced, gasping and sputtering, her hair plastered to her face. Before she could get her bearings, three big splashes announced the arrival of the men. Mohit, Arjun, and Danny plunged in, their laughter echoing off the tiles.

Arjun was on her in a heartbeat. He was a shark, and she was his prey. He grabbed her arm and spun her, slamming her back against the smooth, wet tiles of the pool edge. The impact knocked the air from her lungs. He pressed his full body against hers, pinning her with his weight. She could feel every muscle, every contour of his chest and stomach. And she could feel his erection, a thick, hard ridge pressing insistently against her thigh through his swim trunks.

"Holi is about getting coloured everywhere, na?" he growled, his voice a low rumble against her ear.

He scooped a handful of bright green *gulal from a floating tray and, instead of throwing it, he smeared it directly onto her bare midriff. His palm was rough, the action possessive. He painted her stomach in broad, aggressive strokes, the colour shocking against her pale skin.


His hand didn't stop. It slid down, his fingers hooking under the delicate waistband of her petticoat, which was now the only thing covering her lower body.


"Let's see how sacred this little gold chain really is," he whispered, his fingers toying with the mangalsutra that rested on her hip.


Shweta bucked, a desperate, panicked movement, trying to dislodge him. But she was trapped. Danny materialized behind her, his arms like steel bands. He seized both her wrists in one of his large hands and yanked them behind her back, arching her body painfully. His breath was a hot, sour cloud in her ear.


"Relax, baby," he slurred, his voice thick with liquor and lust. "Your dear husband is too wasted to give a damn. Look at him."


He forced her head to turn. Through the water and her own tears, she could see Raj. He was slumped in a chair, a fresh glass in his hand, his head lolling to one side. His eyes were open, but they were vacant, staring at nothing.


Mohit swam up in front of her, a look of pure, predatory hunger on his face. He reached out and, with a single, brutal tug, ripped the remaining part of her saree—the pallu—away. It floated for a second before sinking. Her thin, wet blouse was now the only barrier, and it was completely transparent, clinging to her breasts like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination.


"Absolutely fucking beautiful," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine awe.

He reached out and took her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. He didn't just touch them; he rolled them, pinched them, pulling and teasing them until they were hard, aching points. As he did, a shower of bright orange powder rained down from above, coating her face and shoulders in a fine, stinging dust.

Click. 

The sharp sound of a phone camera cut through the splashing. Komilla was floating a few feet away, her phone held up, her expression one of cool, detached amusement.


On the pool deck, Rashmi had climbed back onto Raj's lap. She was straddling him, her back to the pool, facing Komilla's phone.


"Look how she's enjoying it, Raj!" Rashmi moaned, her voice loud and theatrical. She began to roll her hips, a slow, exaggerated simulation of sex. "Look at your wife! She's having the time of her life!"


Raj's jaw was clenched so tight it looked painful. But his eyelids were heavy, half-closed. The wine glass dangled from his limp fingers, a tiny amount of red liquid spilling onto the patio stones.


Shweta thrashed in the water, a useless, desperate motion. Her legs, streaked with dissolving colours, clamped together in a final, futile attempt at protection.


"Stop—please—" The words were a choked whisper, torn from her throat.


The plea died as Danny wedged his knee between her thighs from behind. He forced her legs apart with his powerful leg, his knee pressing up hard against her most sensitive place.


"Begging just makes my dick harder," he panted, grinding his knee against her in a lewd, rhythmic motion.


The water around them was no longer blue. It was a murky, swirling mess of red, green, orange, and purple, a disgusting soup of their violation.


Arjun's attention returned to the mangalsutra. He grabbed the thin gold chain, his fingers closing around it. He pulled, hard.


"Gold looks so much better on the floor," he said, his voice cold.


With a final, vicious tug, he snapped the chain. The small black beads and gold pendant broke free and plopped into the cloudy water, disappearing without a trace. It was a sinking sin, a visual end to her vows.


Komilla swam closer, lazily swirling a glass of wine she must have brought to the pool's edge.

"Don't worry about him," she lied, her voice smooth as silk. "Raj won't wake up for hours. He's completely gone."


But Raj wasn't gone. On the chair, as Rashmi arched her back and moaned for the camera, his fingers twitched. It was a small, almost invisible movement, but it was there. Rashmi saw it. She grabbed his limp hand and dragged it up, forcing it inside her own shirt, pressing his palm against her breast.


"She's loving this!" Rashmi cried out, aiming Komilla's phone at Shweta's tear-streaked, terrified face. "Tell them, Shweta! Tell them how much you love it!"


Mohit, tired of waiting, seized a handful of Shweta's hair at the roots. He wrenched her head back, exposing the long, vulnerable line of her throat.


"Open," he ordered.

He picked up a half-full bottle of red wine from the pool edge and tilted it, pouring the dark red liquid directly into her mouth. It gushed in, too much.

Danny's hands were on her waist under the water.

"Still wearing a petticoat?" he laughed. "Such a traditional slut."


His fingers hooked into the string. With a loud riiiip, he tore it. The wet cloth floated away. Her pussy was now naked in the cloudy water.


Arjun whistled. He smeared purple powder on her stomach.


"I wonder if her husband ever made her this wet," he said.


Shweta's knees got weak. She started to sink, but Mohit held her up. His thumb found her clit under the water and rubbed it in slow, hard circles.


A sound came from her throat. A moan. It was a sound of pleasure, and she hated herself for it.
"Shhh," Komilla said softly, swimming closer. "Just enjoy your real wedding night."

Rashmi’s camera phone zoomed in close, right on Shweta's shaking lips.

"Look at her—she's dripping!" Rashmi announced to the phone screen.


She moved Raj's limp hand higher up her own leg, right near her pussy. His nails, not moving, dug into her skin. It was sharp enough to make little red dots of blood.


But Rashmi just moaned louder for the video.


"Raj is so bad at pretending to be drunk," she whispered against his open mouth. His eyelid twitched. Just a little.


In the pool, Shweta's back slammed against the hard tiles. Danny was on her, pinning both her wrists above her head with one hand.


"Time for the real colours," he grunted.


With his other hand, he grabbed the front of her wet blouse and ripped it open. The buttons popped off and sank. The broken chain of her mangalsutra slithered into the water.


Arjun grabbed a pot of thick, oily yellow paste. He poured it right between her boobs. It was slow and thick, like honey. It oozed down her ribs, leaving a hot, sticky trail.


Mohit leaned in and caught a yellow trickle with his tongue. Then he opened his mouth and bit down on her nipple. Hard.


Shweta let out a sharp shriek that bounced off the walls.


Komilla clapped her hands, loud and happy.


"Perfect! You two are in sync! Should we take a vote on who gets to strip her next?"


Rashmi turned the camera, getting a super close-up of Shweta's face. She filmed the smeared red sindur and her long eyelashes that were wet and fluttering.


"Tell me, dear bahu," Rashmi cooed in a sweet, mean voice. "Does your Raj lick you this slow?"


The camera lens got a little foggy from the heat. Mohit's mouth was moving lower, kissing down her stomach. Under the dirty water, his fingers found her pussy and spread her lips open.


Shweta gasped. The sound was loud in the quiet air. Her thighs started to shake.


Komilla swam right up to her, her face close. She was holding a small silver key, letting it dangle from her fingers.


"The farmhouse's basement," she said softly, pressing the cold, wet key into Shweta's hand. "We keep toys down there. For wives who forget their promises."


Shweta's fingers closed around the key, the metal digging into her palm.


But Danny saw it. He snatched it away with a dirty laugh.


"Oh, this is good," he said. "Let's see if she begs prettier when a vibe is buzzing inside her."


Mohit grabbed Shweta by the arm and dragged her out of the pool. She was a mess. Her saree was floating in the water torn in multiple places. Her panty dragged to a corner exposing most of her ass. Her bra strips are broken and  the wet bra is just handing on her nipples. 





Rashmi followed with the camera. She zoomed in on Shweta's ass, on how the wet silk was stuck to it, showing the shape and even the thin line of her thong.

"Such a modern bride," Arjun taunted, coming up to pinch her side. "I bet your Raj never tore your clothes off like a real man."

While all the chaos was happening to Shweta in the water, Rashmi was busy with Raj.

"You're staring," Rashmi said with a dirty smile.

She climbed right onto Raj's lap. Her hands went to his shorts. She opened the button and pulled his dick out. It was soft in her hand at first. She started to stroke it, slow and easy, her fingers moving up and down the shaft. She was looking right at his face.

"Hey guys!" Rashmi called out to the others in the pool. "He's getting a hard-on! I think he's enjoying the show!" She laughed. "He likes watching his wife get tossed around. Keep going! Don't stop until he cums!"

Her thigh moved against his lap, rubbing up and down. The thought of fighting back just melted away.

"See how wet she is?" Rashmi purred, nodding her head towards Shweta in the pool. Shweta's saree was floating away like trash, and her bra was ripped open, her breasts completely out. "And you're just sitting here, getting hard."

"Don't worry," Rashmi whispered in Raj's ear. She pushed her hips down, grinding on his hard dick in a slow, dirty circle. "I'll make sure you enjoy the show properly."

Behind them, Komilla giggled. She was holding her phone up like a professional, moving the camera back and forth. First, she filmed Shweta being held down in the pool. Then, she filmed Raj sitting with his dick out in Rashmi's hand. She was making a movie of their shame.

Rashmi kept stroking him, her hand moving faster. She was grinding her hips on his lap, matching the rhythm of her hand. Raj's head was leaned back, his mouth open. His eyes were half-closed, but they were still looking at the pool. At his wife.

Finally, his body stiffened. A low groan escaped his lips. He came, his release spurting out and streaking Rashmi's inner thighs. It was warm and wet, and it made the silk of her dress stick to her skin in a very dirty way.

When Rashmi stood up, Shweta was lying sprawled on the tiles by the edge of the pool. Her beautiful saree was in tatters around her. Her chest was moving up and down, she was breathing so hard.

Rashmi walked over to her. She slapped Shweta's bare ass, hard. It made a loud smack sound and left a bright red handprint on her skin.

"We'll buy you new clothes," Rashmi said, stepping right over Shweta's shaking legs. "After all, you earned it."

She gave a little wink. It was like a knife twisting in Raj's gut as he watched her walk away.
"Come join us if you want the real thing, sweetheart," Rashmi called over her shoulder to Shweta. "Or clean up your drunk husband. Your choice."

Shweta's body ached. It was a deep, painful ache she hadn't felt in years. But under the pain, there was a feeling of being so, so tired, and a deep, hot shame that burned her.

She looked over at Raj. He was still slumped in his chair. His pants were still open, his dick hanging out. His face was blank, like he didn't know where he was.

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