[incest_cuck]

Hello! My name is Arijit and I'm here to introduce my new story. This story involves a straining relationship between partners in an arranged marriage situation who have been engaged to marry later in the year. My fiance is very ambitious and is working for a startup that is owned by her ex-boyfriend from her college days, whom she has a 7-month relationship with back in the day. This is the story about the domineering nature of her boss (the owner of the startup) who hired her in order to rekindle their old flame, my fiance who is ambitious yet shy and reserved, and me, a guy who is sexually inexperienced and wants to have the best marriage possible with the most amazing girl (my fiance). So, stay tuned for more updates!

[incest_cuck]

The fluorescent lights of Anita’s office building flickered as I stood in the lobby, fidgeting nervously with the collar of my shirt. At 34, my receding hairline and average build made me feel distinctly out of place among the sleek, young professionals bustling about. I was here to surprise my fiancée, Anita, with lunch – and perhaps to quell the gnawing insecurity that had been eating at me for months.

As I stepped into the elevator, my mind wandered to Supratim – Anita’s ex, her current boss, and the man who had given her this coveted position at his trendy start-up. The thought of him made my jaw clench. Tall, handsome, with a full head of thick black hair and thick beard – he was everything I wasn't. And he had shared an intimacy with Anita that I could never claim.

The elevator doors slid open on the 5th floor, and I made my way towards Anita’s desk. But as I rounded the corner, I froze. There she was, her lithe 28-year-old body leaning against Supratim's muscular frame as they pored over some documents. His hand rested casually on the small of her back, fingers splayed possessively across the curve of her ass.
"Anita," I called out, my voice cracking slightly.
She jumped, startled, and turned to face me. "Arijit! What are you doing here?"

Supratim's hand lingered for a moment before dropping away. He flashed me a confident smile, his perfect teeth gleaming. "Ah, you must be the fiancé. I've heard so much about you."

I felt a flush creeping up my neck as I approached them. Anita’s sari hugged her curves in all the right places, and I couldn't help but notice Supratim's appreciative gaze. The air crackled with tension as our eyes met.

Speaking about Anita – her dusky complexion always glows with a natural radiance, giving her an ethereal beauty that turns heads wherever she goes. At 28, she possesses a youthful charm that makes her appear slightly younger than her years. Her face is a canvas of delicate features, dominated by big, beautiful eyes that seem to hold secrets within their depths. Long, dark lashes frame these expressive orbs, adding to their allure. Her full lips, often curved in a shy smile, are perfectly shaped and inviting.

Anita’s petite yet curvy figure is a testament to feminine grace. Her modest 32B breasts are perky and well-proportioned to her frame, while her narrow 30-inch waist accentuates the swell of her shapely hips. The gentle curves of her body create an hourglass silhouette that's both elegant and sensual. Her long, silky dark hair cascades down her back in soft waves, framing her face beautifully.

Despite her undeniable attractiveness, Anita carries herself with a quiet dignity and modesty that only enhances her appeal. There's an air of innocence about her, mixed with a hint of hidden passion, that makes her irresistibly intriguing to those around her.

"I thought I'd surprise you with lunch," I said, holding up the bag of takeout.

Anita’s eyes darted between Supratim and me. "Oh, that's so sweet of you, but... Supratim and I were just about to go over some important project details over lunch."

Supratim interjected smoothly, "Why don't you join us, Arijit? I'd love to get to know the man who's stolen our star analyst's heart."

As we made our way to Supratim's private office, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was walking into the lion's den. The way Anita's hips swayed as she walked ahead of us, the casual way Supratim's hand brushed against her arm – it all sent my mind reeling with possibilities.

Once inside, Supratim closed the door behind us with a soft click. The room seemed to shrink, the air growing thick with unspoken desires. As Anita began unpacking the food, Supratim's voice dropped to a husky whisper.

"Arijit, I'm so glad you could join us. I was just telling Anita how... fortunate she is to have found such an... understanding man."

My pulse quickened as Anita turned, her sari rustling softly. A faint blush colored her cheeks as she avoided my gaze, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her pallu.

"Indeed, Supratim has been very... supportive of our engagement," Anita murmured, a shy smile playing at the corners of her lips.

Supratim's dark eyes locked onto mine, a hint of challenge in their depths. "Well, I've always believed in fostering a close-knit work environment. Wouldn't you agree, Arijit? It's important for a man to... keep his team satisfied."

I swallowed hard, feeling the subtle jab at my masculinity. Anita’s gaze flicked between us, her full lips parting slightly as if to speak, but no words came out.

"Of course," I managed, my voice slightly strained. "Satisfaction is... crucial in any relationship."

Supratim's hand came to rest on the back of Anita’s chair, his fingers just barely grazing her shoulder. "You know, Arijit, Anita has been absolutely thriving here. She has such... untapped potential. I'm more than happy to help her... explore it fully."

Anita ducked her head, but not before I caught the small smile that flitted across her face at Supratim's words. My stomach churned with a mix of discomfort and arousal.

"I'm sure she appreciates your... guidance," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Oh, I think we both know how much Anita values my input," Supratim chuckled, his tone dripping with innuendo. "Don't we, darling?"

Anita’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red as she nodded almost imperceptibly. "Supratim has been an excellent mentor," she whispered, her eyes meeting mine for a brief, charged moment before darting away.

The air in the office felt thick with unspoken tension, every word and gesture laden with hidden meaning. As Supratim leaned in closer to Anita, the tension in the room felt palpable, a heady mix of desire and power dynamics that left me feeling dizzy. I couldn't tear my eyes away from them, their bodies angled towards each other as they pored over her report. The way Supratim's fingers brushed against Anita's hand as he pointed out something on the page sent a jolt of jealousy through me.

Suddenly, Supratim straightened up, his eyes meeting mine with a look of smug satisfaction. He leaned back in his chair, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "You know, Arijit, you should be proud of Anita. Her dedication to excellence is... impressive. She often stays late, burning the midnight oil." His eyes gleamed as they raked over Anita's form. "I've lost count of how many times I've found her here, still working diligently, long after everyone else has gone home."

Anita ducked her head, a mix of pride and bashfulness coloring her cheeks. "It's nothing, really. The work is just so engaging..."

"Oh, come now," Supratim chuckled, his hand briefly touching Anita's arm. "Don't be modest. Your... passion is truly admirable." He turned to me, his gaze challenging. "You must miss her terribly on those late nights, eh Arijit?"

I shifted uncomfortably, feeling the sting of his words. "Well, I... I understand the demands of her job."

"Of course you do," Supratim nodded, his tone patronizing. "It's so important for a man to be... supportive. Especially when his woman is climbing the corporate ladder."

Anita glanced between us, her eyes wide. "Supratim has been very helpful in guiding my career," she murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Oh, it's my pleasure," Supratim purred, his gaze lingering on Anita. "I always enjoy... nurturing talent. Especially when it's as promising as Anita's."

I watched as Anita's blush deepened, her fingers toying with the edge of her sari. The air in the room felt charged, thick with unspoken tension.

"In fact," Supratim continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone, "I was thinking of recommending Anita for our upcoming conference in Puri. It would be a fantastic opportunity for her to... showcase her skills."

Anita's eyes lit up, even as she bit her lip nervously. "Really? That would be amazing, but... it's a four-day event, isn't it?"

"Indeed it is," Supratim nodded, his gaze flicking to me. "I'm sure Arijit wouldn't mind, though. After all, it's for your career advancement. Right, Arijit?"

I felt a knot form in my stomach as both of them turned to look at me, waiting for my response. The thought of Anita spending a week away, with Supratim, made my head spin. But what could I say?
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. The silence stretched out, heavy and uncomfortable, as Anita and Supratim waited for my response. I could see the hopeful glint in Anita's eyes, mixed with a touch of apprehension. Supratim, on the other hand, wore an expression of smug anticipation.

"I... well, it's quite a long time to be away," I finally managed, my voice sounding weak even to my own ears.

Supratim leaned forward, his voice taking on a faux-sympathetic tone. "Come now, Arijit. Surely you wouldn't want to hold Anita back from such a golden opportunity? This conference could be a real game-changer for her career."

Anita reached out, her delicate fingers brushing against my arm. "It would mean so much to me, Arijit," she said softly, her dark eyes imploring. "I promise I'll call every day."

I felt my resolve crumbling under their combined gazes. The thought of Anita spending four long days and nights with Supratim still made my stomach churn, but how could I deny her this chance?

Supratim pressed on, his voice smooth as silk. "Think of it as an investment in your future together. The connections Anita could make at this conference... well, let's just say it could lead to some very lucrative opportunities down the line."

I took a deep breath, forcing a smile onto my face. "Well, when you put it like that... I suppose it would be selfish of me to object. Of course you should go, Anita. It's a great opportunity."

Anita's face lit up with joy, and she squeezed my hand gratefully. "Thank you, Arijit! You're the best!"

Supratim's grin widened, a predatory glint in his eyes. "Excellent decision, Arijit. I'll make sure to take good care of Anita while we're away. You have nothing to worry about."

As I watched Supratim's hand come to rest on Anita's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had just made a terrible mistake. But the radiant smile on Anita's face made it impossible for me to voice my doubts. I could only hope that my trust in her wasn't misplaced.

[incest_cuck]

As the lunch meeting drew to a close, I forced a smile onto my face, trying to mask the tumultuous emotions roiling beneath the surface. Supratim's hand lingered on Anita's shoulder, his fingers tracing small circles that seemed to burn into my retinas.

"Well, I should get going," I managed, my voice sounding strained even to my own ears. "Thank you for... accommodating me."

Anita stood, her sari rustling softly as she moved to embrace me. The familiar scent of her jasmine perfume filled my nostrils, momentarily drowning out the musk of Supratim's cologne that seemed to permeate the office.

"Thank you for understanding, Arijit," she murmured, her lips brushing my cheek. "I'll see you at home tonight?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. As I turned to leave, Supratim's voice stopped me.

"Oh, Arijit? Don't forget - Anita's birthday is coming up next week. I'm sure you have something... special planned?"

The reminder hit me like a punch to the gut. With all the tension surrounding the upcoming conference, I had completely forgotten. Shame and panic flooded through me as I fumbled for a response.

"Of course," I lied, avoiding Anita's gaze. "It's all taken care of."

As I left the office, my mind raced. I had less than a week to plan something spectacular, something that could compete with whatever lavish gesture Supratim undoubtedly had in store.

As I stepped out of Supratim's office, a tumult of emotions churned within me. The fluorescent lights of the hallway seemed harsh and unforgiving, mirroring the conflicting feelings that threatened to overwhelm me.

My steps felt heavy as I made my way towards the elevator, my mind replaying every moment of that lunch meeting. The casual touches, the loaded glances, the thinly veiled innuendos - they all swirled in my head, forming a nauseating cocktail of insecurity and arousal.

Jealousy gnawed at my insides, a bitter taste rising in my throat as I remembered the way Anita's eyes had lit up at Supratim's praise. The memory of her shy smiles and flushed cheeks in response to his flirtations sent a spike of pain through my chest.

Yet, mingled with the jealousy was an undeniable undercurrent of excitement. The thought of Anita spending a week away with Supratim, the man who had taken her virginity, sent a forbidden thrill coursing through my veins. My cock twitched traitorously in my pants, responding to the illicit scenarios my mind conjured up.

Shame washed over me in waves. What kind of man was I to feel aroused by the idea of my fiancée potentially being seduced by another man? The conflict between my possessive instincts and this unexpected turn-on left me feeling dizzy and disoriented.

As the elevator doors closed behind me, I leaned against the cool metal wall, my heart racing. The image of Supratim's confident smirk and Anita's demure glances burned in my mind's eye. I felt small, inadequate, and yet... strangely exhilarated.

Stepping out into the busy street, I took a deep breath, trying to clear my head. But I knew, deep down, that the events of this lunch would haunt me for days to come. The rest of the afternoon dragged on interminably. I couldn't focus on work, my mind replaying every loaded glance and casual touch between Anita and Supratim. By the time I left the office, my nerves were frayed to breaking point.

I hurried home, a maelstrom of emotions churning in my gut. Our empty apartment felt oppressive, the silence amplifying my racing thoughts. I paced restlessly, rehearsing what I'd say to Anita, then immediately second-guessing myself.

As the sky outside darkened to a deep indigo, I found myself perched on the edge of the sofa, eyes fixed on the door. My heart leapt at every sound in the hallway, anticipating Anita's arrival.

Finally, I heard the jingle of keys. My mouth went dry as the lock turned. The door swung open, and there she was.

"How was your day, love?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Anita smiled tiredly. "Oh, you know. Busy as always. Supratim's really pushing for this project to be perfect."

I couldn't hold back anymore. "And is that why he needs to touch you so much? To ensure perfection?"

Her eyes widened, then narrowed. "What are you talking about, Arijit?"

"Don't play dumb, Anita. I saw how he was with you today. The way he leaned in, how his hand lingered on your shoulder. And you just... let him."

Anita sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Are we really doing this? Supratim flirts with everyone, Arijit. It's just his way. It doesn't mean anything."

"Doesn't mean anything?" I scoffed. "He was practically undressing you with his eyes!"

"You're being ridiculous," she snapped. "Supratim is my boss. He's helping my career. Do you want me to jeopardize that because you're feeling insecure?"

I felt a pang of guilt, but pushed on. "It's not about insecurity. It's about respect. For me, for our relationship."

Anita's eyes welled up with tears. "I can't believe you don't trust me. After everything we've been through, everything I've sacrificed for us. Do you know how hard I work? How much pressure I'm under?"

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I watched as a tear rolled down her cheek, feeling like the world's biggest asshole.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled. "I just... I love you so much. The thought of losing you..."

Anita stepped closer, cupping my face in her hands. "Oh, Arijit. You're not going to lose me. I'm right here. I chose you, remember? You have to trust in that."

As I looked into her big, watery eyes, I felt my resolve crumble. How could I doubt her? I pulled her into a tight embrace, breathing in her scent, trying to ignore the lingering notes of Supratim's cologne.

"I'm sorry," I whispered again. "I trust you. I do."

Anita pulled back, a small smile on her lips. "Good. Now, how about we forget this silly argument and have a nice dinner?"

As she turned towards the kitchen, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling in my gut. But I pushed it aside. I had to trust her. What other choice did I have?

The days flew by in a blur of anxiety and frantic planning. Before I knew it, Anita's birthday had arrived. I woke early, my heart pounding as I picked up the bouquet of roses I had ordered. This had to be perfect. I couldn't let Supratim outdo me, not today. The day crawled by in an agonizing blur of anxiety and anticipation. As evening fell, I found myself outside Anita's office building, clutching a bouquet of roses in my sweaty palm. The startup's modern facade loomed before me, most of its windows now dark. My heart raced as I entered the deserted lobby, my footsteps echoing in the silence.

As I approached Anita's office, bouquet clutched in my sweaty palm, my heart raced with anticipation. The open-plan office was bathed in the dim glow of a few forgotten desk lamps, workstations abandoned for the day. My eyes fixed on the frosted glass door at the far end of the room - Supratim's office. A sliver of light spilled from beneath it.

I noticed Anita wasn't at her desk. A quick glance through the blinds confirmed my suspicions - she was in there with him. My throat tightened as I crept closer, pressing my ear against the cool glass.

"Anita, you look absolutely radiant today," Supratim's deep voice purred. "That modest outfit can't hide your beauty."

[incest_cuck]

You peek through a gap in the blinds, your eyes widening at the sight. Anita, your petite fiancée, stands before Supratim's imposing figure. At 5'10", he towers over her 5'1" frame, his full head of lush black hair a stark contrast to your own thinning locks.

Anita's olive skin flushes as she stammers, "T-thank you, sir. But I should really get back to work."

Supratim takes a step closer, his broad shoulders blocking your view. "Nonsense, it's your birthday. Let me treat you to dinner."

Your cock twitches traitorously in your pants as you imagine his large hands on Anita's slim thick body, cupping her shoulders.

"I appreciate the offer, but I can't," Anita insists, her voice wavering. "Arijit and I have plans."

Supratim chuckles, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Ah yes, your fiancé. Tell me, does he satisfy you the way I used to?"

Your breath catches in your throat. The roses slip from your grasp, scattering petals at your feet as you lean in closer, desperate to hear Anita's response.

"That's... that's not appropriate, sir," she whispers, but you detect a hint of curiosity in her tone.

"Perhaps not," Supratim agrees, his voice dropping an octave. "But I can't help wondering if you miss what we had. The passion, the intensity. Come on, Anita," Supratim's deep, confident voice continues. "We both know you've been thinking about this since you started working here. Don't you remember how good we were together?"

You watch, paralyzed, as his hand reaches out, his fingers now grazing Anita's cheek. She doesn't pull away.

"Supratim, please," she breathes, her resistance crumbling. "I'm engaged now."

"And yet, here you are," he murmurs, tilting her chin up. "In my office, after work, looking up at me with those same doe eyes that captivated me in college."

Your cock strains against your zipper as you witness this exchange, a cocktail of jealousy and arousal coursing through your veins. You want to burst in, to claim Anita as yours, but your feet remain rooted to the spot.

As Supratim's lips descend towards Anita's, your breath catches in your throat. The world seems to slow down, each heartbeat thundering in your ears. Just as their mouths are about to meet, Anita turns her head slightly, Supratim's lips grazing her cheek instead.

"Supratim, we shouldn't," Anita's voice wavers, a mix of reluctance and something else... curiosity? Desire? "I'm with Arijit now. He's a good man."

Your cock throbs painfully against your zipper, a confusing mixture of relief and disappointment washing over you. You shift slightly, trying to get a better view through the narrow gap in the blinds. Supratim's imposing figure blocks most of your line of sight, but you can still make out tantalizing flashes of Anita's olive skin and the curve of her modest blouse. Your heart pounds as you strain to catch every detail, your imagination running wild with the things you can't quite see. The roses in your hand are forgotten, crushed in your white-knuckled grip as you watch the scene unfold before you.

A low chuckle from Supratim sends a shiver down your spine. "I'm sure he is. But can he make you feel the way I did? The way I still can?"

You clench your fists, jealousy and anger surging through you. How dare he speak to your fiancée like that? But beneath the rage, a treacherous spark of arousal ignites in your core.

"That's... that's not relevant," Anita stammers. You catch a glimpse of her stepping back, but Supratim's tall frame follows.

"Isn't it?" His voice drops to a husky whisper. "Don't tell me you've forgotten our nights together. How I made you scream my name."

Your cock twitches traitorously at his words, imagination running wild with images of Anita writhing beneath Supratim's muscular body. You want to burst in, to assert your claim, but fear paralyzes you. What could you, a short skinny 5'4" man, do against this Adonis?

"Please," Anita's voice is barely audible. "We can't do this. I love Arijit."

"Love him all you want," Supratim purrs. "But admit it, you crave what only I can give you."

You see his hand move, presumably caressing Anita's face. Your breath catches as you wait for her response, torn between hoping she'll resist and a shameful desire to hear her submit.

"I... I..." Anita's hesitation is palpable, her resolve clearly wavering.

Your heart nearly stops as you hear a sudden gasp from Anita, followed by the unmistakable sound of lips meeting. You strain your eyes, desperate to see more, but all you can make out is Supratim's broad back and Anita's delicate hands pushing against his chest.

"Mmph! Supra-" Anita's muffled protest is cut short by what you can only imagine is Supratim deepening the kiss.

The wet sounds of their lips moving together fill the air, punctuated by Anita's little whimpers and Supratim's low groans. Your cock throbs painfully in your pants as you picture his tongue invading her mouth, tasting her, claiming her.

"God, I've missed this," Supratim growls between kisses. "Your lips are even sweeter than I remember."

You catch a glimpse of his lean, muscular arms wrapping around Anita's petite frame, pulling her flush against him. The contrast in their sizes is stark - her small petite frame engulfed by his taller, toned physique. You imagine how small, how vulnerable she must feel in his embrace, his masculine features and bristly facial hair emphasizing her soft femininity. A wave of inadequacy washes over you as you picture Anita's smooth cheek pressed against the rough texture of his beard, a sensation you can't provide with your clean-shaven face.

"We... we shouldn't," Anita gasps, but her voice lacks conviction. "Arijit..."

"Forget him," Supratim murmurs, and you see him shift, presumably to trail kisses down her neck. "Feel how our bodies fit together. This is right, Anita. This is what you need."

“Ungghhhh….”, a soft moan escapes Anita's lips, sending a jolt of arousal and shame through your body. You want to burst in, to tear them apart, but you're rooted to the spot. What could you do against Supratim? His lean, muscular body would easily overpower your shorter, more delicate frame.

"Please," Anita whimpers, but whether she's begging him to stop or continue, you're not sure. "This is wrong..."

"Then why does it feel so good?" Supratim challenges, his voice husky with desire.

You catch another glimpse of them through the gap in the blinds. Supratim's large hand is tangled in Anita's thick, dark tresses, firmly tilting her head back as he claims her mouth. His dark prickly beard brushes against her soft skin, the friction heightening the warmth of her dusky complexion. Anita's arms tremble as they wrap around his neck, her body betraying her mind's resistance.

Their lips move in a frenzied dance, Supratim's tongue insistently probing, demanding entry. "Mmmphhhhh....", Anita whimpers softly, her mouth opening just enough to let him in. You can see the conflict in her eyes - desire warring with guilt. Her fingers clench and unclench in the fabric of his shirt, as if she's fighting the urge to push him away.

Supratim's other hand roams boldly, tracing the curve of her spine before settling on her shapely ass, kneading the flesh through her trousers. Anita's body arches involuntarily, pressing her modest breasts against his broad chest. She breaks the kiss, gasping for air, her voice barely audible as she whispers, "We shouldn't... Arijit..."

But Supratim silences her weak protest with another searing kiss, his beard scbanging her chin as he angles her head for deeper access. Anita's resistance is crumbling, her body responding even as her mind struggles to hold onto the last shreds of loyalty.

The realization hits you like a punch to the gut: your fiancée is melting into the arms of another man. A man taller, more handsome, more successful than you. A man who took her virginity and is now threatening to reclaim her.

[incest_cuck]

The passionate sounds of their kiss continue, punctuated by Anita's soft whimpers. Suddenly, you hear a sharp gasp followed by a low, throaty moan that sends shivers down your spine.

"Oh god," Anita breathes, her voice a mixture of shock and unmistakable pleasure. "You remembered..."

Supratim's deep chuckle fills the air. "How could I forget how much you love being bitten, babe? The way your body responds... it's intoxicating."

You strain to see more, catching glimpses of Supratim's mouth on Anita's neck, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin. Supratim's large hand cupping the back of Anita's head, tilting it to expose more of her dusky neck. His lips trail down her throat, leaving a glistening path in their wake. Suddenly, he bites down on the junction where her neck meets her shoulder, “Ahhhhhhhhhh……nggghhhhhhh!!!”, eliciting a strangled cry from Anita. Your cock throbs painfully as you listen to her groans and imagine the marks he's leaving, branding her as his.

The sound of Anita's pleasure sends a jolt through your body, a mixture of arousal and jealousy coursing through your veins. You watch, transfixed, as Supratim's mouth continues its assault on her neck, his beard scbanging against her soft skin. Anita's hands clutch at his broad shoulders, her body trembling with each nip and suck.

"Supratim, please," Anita pleads, her resistance wavering. "We can't... Arijit..."

"Shh," he soothes, and you see his large hands begin to roam over her petite frame. "Just feel, Anita. Remember how good we were together."

You watch, transfixed, as Supratim's palms glide over Anita's curves, cupping her modest breasts through her blouse. A strangled moan escapes her lips, and you feel a surge of humiliation and arousal.

"Your body remembers me," Supratim murmurs, his fingers tracing the outline of her nipples through the fabric. "It's singing for my touch."

"No...," Anita whimpers, clearly torn between desire and loyalty.

You see Supratim's hand slide down to Anita's hips, pulling her against him. The size difference between them is stark - his tall, lean frame dwarfing her petite body. You imagine how small, how helpless she must feel in his strong arms, and a wave of inadequacy washes over you.

"Tell me to stop," Supratim challenges, his voice husky with desire. "Tell me you don't want this."

There's a pause, filled only by Anita's ragged breathing. Your heart pounds in your chest as you wait for her response, equal parts dreading and craving her surrender. The response never comes.

Instead, the tension in the room thickens further as Supratim's fingers move to Anita's blouse, slowly unfastening the first button. "Supratim, stop," Anita protests, her hands covering his. "We can't do this."

"We both want this, Anita," he murmurs, his lips brushing her ear. "Why deny ourselves?"

You watch helplessly as he captures her lips in another searing kiss, his teeth grazing her lower lip. “Mmmmphhhhhh…..”, Anita's whimper of pleasure sends a surge of rage and arousal through you.

"But Arijit..." she gasps as Supratim moves to the next button.

"Forget him," Supratim growls. "Can he give you what you need? What I can offer?"

Your jaw clenches at his words. No, you can't. Your public sector job barely covers the bills. The mortgage on your modest home depends on Anita's income from this job. The realization of your powerlessness fuels your anger.

Supratim continues his assault on Anita's senses, alternating between deep, passionate kisses and gentle bites along her neck. With each caress, each button undone, you see Anita's resistance waver.

"This is wrong," she whispers, but her body betrays her, arching into his touch.

You're torn between the desire to burst in and stop this and the paralyzing fear of confronting Supratim. He's not just physically imposing; his position in the company gives him power over your financial future.

As Anita's blouse falls open, you catch a tantalizing glimpse of her red lacy bra, the vibrant color a stark contrast against her olive skin. Supratim's hands waste no time exploring the newly exposed skin, his fingers tracing along her sensitive neckline. “Ahhhhhhh…..”, Anita shivers visibly, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

"God, you're exquisite," Supratim murmurs, his lips brushing against her collarbone. "I've missed this... missed you."

"Supratim, please," Anita whimpers, her hands pushing weakly against his chest. "We shouldn't... I'm engaged..."

But her protests lack conviction as Supratim's skilled fingers dance along her spine, eliciting another shudder. His large hands move lower, cupping her behind and pulling her flush against him.

"Your body remembers me, Anita," he growls, nipping at her earlobe. "It knows who it belongs to."

You watch, fists clenched in impotent rage, as Supratim's mouth descends to Anita's cleavage. Her sharp intake of breath is audible even from your hiding spot, and you know he's found one of her most sensitive areas.

"No... we can't..." Anita protests weakly, but her head tilts back, giving him better access.

The sight of your fiancée in another man's arms, her resistance crumbling, fills you with a toxic mix of humiliation and unwanted excitement. Your anger still burns hot, but you can't deny the growing tightness in your pants.

"Supratim, wait-" Anita's protest is cut short as her domineering boss suddenly grips her blouse and yanks it off, tossing it carelessly to the floor. The aggressive action draws a shocked gasp from Anita, and you feel a surge of horror and helplessness.

Before she can recover, Supratim captures her lips in a searing kiss, one hand tangling in her hair. He tugs gently, tilting her head back. “Unnghhhhh!!!”, Anita lets out a low, involuntary moan that sends a jolt of unwanted arousal through you. Their tongues battle for dominance, but Supratim quickly takes control. He explores every inch of Anita's mouth, tasting, teasing, conquering. His large hand cradles the back of her head, fingers tangled in her long dark hair, holding her in place as he ravishes her. The kiss is primal, almost violent in its intensity. Supratim nips at Anita's full lower lip, drawing a sharp gasp from her. He soothes the sting with a swipe of his tongue before plunging back in, his mouth moving against hers with bruising force.

"You always loved that, didn't you?" Supratim murmurs against her lips, giving her hair another gentle pull. Anita's whimper of pleasure is unmistakable, and you watch her resistance waver further.

With a fluid motion, Supratim steps back and pulls his own shirt over his head. Your stomach drops as you see Anita's eyes widen, taking in his muscular, hair-covered chest. You know that look - it's pure, unadulterated desire.

"God, Supratim," Anita breathes, her hand reaching out involuntarily before she catches herself. "You're even more..."

"More what, Anita?" Supratim challenges, stepping closer. "More manly? More what you need?"

You feel a fresh wave of inadequacy wash over you. Your own smooth, less defined chest seems pitiful in comparison. The raw masculinity Supratim exudes is something you could never hope to match.

As Supratim pulls Anita against his bare chest, her hands splaying across his pecs, you're faced with a horrifying realization. Your fiancée is being seduced by everything you're not - and she's struggling to resist. The anger, humiliation, and forbidden arousal swirl within you, a toxic cocktail threatening to overwhelm your senses.

[incest_cuck]

The atmosphere in the room shifts palpably as Supratim's demeanor changes, his movements becoming more forceful, more primal. He grips Anita's hips roughly, pulling her flush against him as his mouth crashes down on hers. The kiss is hungry, almost bruising in its intensity.

"Mmmmph!" Anita's muffled moan of surprise quickly transforms into a low, throaty sound of pleasure. Her body arches involuntarily, pressing closer to Supratim's hairy, muscular frame. As his tongue plunders her mouth, Anita lets out a series of soft, needy whimpers. "Nnnghhh... ahhhhh..." The sounds are barely audible, swallowed up by Supratim's demanding lips.

When he finally breaks the kiss to trail his mouth along her jaw, Anita gasps for air. "Oh god, Supratim!", she breathes, her tone a mixture of desire and desperation. Her body stiffens slightly, the pleasure warring with her sense of loyalty. Anita whimpers, her hands pushing against his chest in a feeble attempt at resistance. "Supratim, please... we can't..." Her voice trembles, caught between desire and guilt.  

But her protests are silenced as he tangles his fingers in her hair, tugging sharply. "Ahhhhhh! Nnnnnggghhhhh..." The sound escapes her lips, a mixture of shock and almost unmistakable arousal. Her eyes flutter closed, head tilting back instinctively to expose the smooth column of her dusky neck. Anita's gasp of surprise turns into a low moan of pleasure, her body betraying her despite her mind's reluctance.

Supratim's free hand roams possessively over Anita's curves, groping and fondling with unrestrained lust. His teeth sink into her neck, leaving a trail of angry marks that brand her as his fucktoy. Each time Anita tries to squirm away, he yanks her back roughly, grinding his rock-hard cock against her soft belly.

"Feel what you do to me, Anita baby!" he growls nipping at her earlobe. "This is what a real man feels like, Anita."

His fingers gradually dig into the flesh of her ass, spreading her cheeks through the thin fabric of her pants. Arijit watches, transfixed, as Anita's resistance continues to crumble under Supratim's relentless assault on her senses. Her hands, once pushing him away, now cling to his broad shoulders for support. As the scene unfolds before him, something shifts within his psyche. The anger and humiliation are still there, but they're overshadowed by a growing sense of... acceptance? Arijit finds himself mesmerized by Supratim's raw masculinity, his dominance over Anita.

For the umpteenth time, Arijit can see the difference between him and Anita’s boss. Supratim is a lion, a true alpha male, while he... is just a spectator in the savannah of life. The realization should be devastating, but instead, it feels almost... right. He continues to watch, his own arousal growing despite himself, as Supratim's hands move to the clasp of Anita's bra.

Supratim's fingers deftly unhook Anita's bra, slowly sliding the straps down her arms. With a flourish, he tosses the red lacy garment to the floor, leaving Anita bare from the waist up.

Anita gasps, her arms instinctively moving to cover her exposed breasts. "Supratim, please..." she whispers, her face flushing with embarrassment.

But Supratim is relentless. He gently pulls her arms away, his eyes drinking in the sight of her topless form. "Don't hide from me, Anita. You're exquisite." His gaze lingers on her dark brown areolas, a stark contrast against her olive skin. Anita shivers as his thumbs brush over her sensitive nipples, already pebbling under his touch.

"So fucking responsive," Supratim growls, lowering his head. His hot tongue darts out, lapping at Anita's stiff nipple before sucking it into his greedy mouth. Her breathy gasp echoes as he alternates between hungry sucks and teasing bites on her aching bud.

"These tits are mine," he grunts, roughly kneading her other breast.

“Aaaarrgghhhhh…!!!!!”, His fingers pinch and twist her neglected nipple, drawing a whine from Anita's throat. "No one else gets to play with these perfect little tits but me.", he says.

Anita's resistance wavers further. She arches her back, pressing her chest further into Supratim's eager mouth. Her hands tangle in his hair, caught between pulling him closer and pushing him away. "Oh godddd!!!," she moans, as her eyes roll to the back of her head in pleasure, her body betraying her with every flick of his skilled tongue.

For Arijit, the reality of the situation begins to sink in. This isn't just a momentary lapse - this is Anita surrendering to a primal desire, one that he himself could never fulfil. Supratim's raw masculinity, his dominant presence, is awakening something in her that her fiance has never seen before.

"We shouldn't..." Anita somehow manages a meek protest, but her body betrays her words. Her back arches further, pressing her chest even more firmly against Supratim's eager mouth.

"God, Anita," Supratim growls, "I've missed the taste of you."

Arijit hears a soft thud - Anita's back hitting the wall perhaps? - followed by a surprised yelp that turns into a drawn-out moan. He strains to see what is happening, but can mostly hear their voices.

"Supratim, please..." Anita's voice is barely above a whisper, torn between desire and reluctance. "We can't... Arijit..."

The sound of Arijit’s name on her lips sends a jolt through his spine. He clenches his fists, nails digging into his palms. The pain grounds him, a sharp counterpoint to the confusing mix of anger, humiliation, and unwanted arousal swirling within his very being.

"Forget him," Supratim's voice is low, commanding. "He's not half the man I am. You know it, Anita. Your body knows it."

As if to prove his point, you hear the unmistakable sound of flesh on flesh - Supratim's hand connecting with Anita's breast in a firm slap. “Arrrgghhhhhhhh!!!!!”, Anita's resulting cry is one of pleasure mixed with pain.

Arijit’s breath catches in his throat. He’s never heard Anita make a sound like that before. Never for you. The realization hits him like a physical blow, forcing him to confront an uncomfortable truth: Supratim is giving Anita something he never could.

The room fills with the sound of heavy breathing and soft whimpers as Supratim continues his assault on Anita's senses. His hands roam her body possessively, squeezing and pinching, drawing more of those intoxicating sounds from her throat.

Suddenly, the sound of a zipper being lowered cuts through the heavy breathing and soft moans. The metallic rasp seems to jolt Anita back to reality.

"Supratim, stop," Anita's protest is firmer this time, though still tinged with uncertainty. "We can't do this..."

But her words are met with the rustle of fabric hitting the floor - Supratim's pants joining the growing pile of discarded clothing. The soft thud echoes in the room, a clear indication that Supratim has no intention of stopping.

"Anita," Supratim's voice is low, husky with desire. "You know you want this as much as I do."

A sharp intake of breath from Anita reaches her fiance’s ears. He can almost picture her eyes widening as they take in Supratim's form, barely concealed by his grey boxers.

"Oh gosh!" Anita whispers, her voice a mix of shock and something else... desire? "Supratim, we shouldn't..."

"Shh," Supratim murmurs. "Just feel, Anita. Feel what a real man's dick can do to that tight little pussy of yours."

The sound of skin on fabric reaches her fiance’s ears - Anita's hand running along Supratim's length, he imagines. Her breath hitches audibly.

"I... I can't," Anita's voice wavers, but you detect a note of awe beneath her protest. "Arijit..."

"Forget about him," Supratim interrupts, his voice thick with promise. "Focus on me. On us."

Arijit stands rooted to the spot, overwhelmed by a toxic cocktail of anger, shame, and unwanted arousal. The dim light reveals only tantalizing silhouettes, forcing his imagination to fill in the gaps with torturous detail. Each sound, each breathless word from Anita, hammers home his inadequacy. Her unspoken awe of Supratim's masculinity cuts deeper than any direct comparison, leaving Arijit to once again confront the bitter truth that his rival offers Anita pleasures he never could.

The room fills with the sound of Anita's ragged breathing, punctuated by soft whimpers that betray her internal struggle. "Supratim, we can't..." she protests weakly, her voice trembling. "This is wrong, I'm enagaged, I…...ughhhhhhhhhh"

Her words trail off into a sharp gasp as Supratim's hands roam her body. Arijit can almost feel the tension in the air, the war raging within his fiance.

"Tell me to stop then," Supratim challenges, his voice low and husky. "Tell me you don't want this."

A moment of heavy silence follows, broken only by Anita's shaky exhale. When she speaks again, her voice is barely above a whisper, thick with conflicting emotions. "But Arijit….I love him, I do. This will destroy him, destroy us..."

"Then why aren't you stopping me?" Supratim's voice is smug, confident.

Anita's whimper pierces the air, heavy with unmistakable desire. The tension in the room is palpable, a heady mixture of lust and self-loathing. Arijit's heart clenches painfully as he listens to Anita's silent struggle. Her labored breathing speaks volumes - the sharp inhales of arousal warring with shaky exhales of guilt. He can almost picture her face, flushed with desire yet streaked with tears of shame.

"Don't hate yourself," Supratim murmurs right next to her earlobe. "Embrace what you feel. What that tight little body of yours craves."

A choked sob escapes Anita, quickly muffled as Supratim crashes his lips against hers. His mouth devours hers hungrily, tongue plunging deep to taste every inch of her. Anita whimpers into the kiss, her body melting against his despite her internal conflict. Supratim's teeth nip at her lower lip, drawing a gasp from her throat. His beard scratches roughly against her soft skin as he deepens the kiss, one large hand tangling in her hair to hold her in place.

When the bruising kiss finally breaks, Anita's next words are breathless, desperate.

"Supratim don’t….," she begs, though whether she's pleading for him to stop or continue is unclear even to her. "Please..."

The conflict in Anita's voice paints a vivid picture of her internal struggle - her loyalty to Arijit warring against her undeniable desire for Supratim. Each sound, each word, is a testament to her crumbling resolve. Arijit stands frozen, his heart pounding as he listens to Anita's inner battle play out. Every breathless gasp and desperate plea hammers home the reality of the situation. He can almost see her torn expression, her body betraying her even as her mind fights against the overwhelming lust Supratim has awakened.

The sounds of their encounter continue to assault Arijit's ears, forcing him to confront the bitter truth. Anita's resolve is weakening with each passing moment, her loyalty to him cracking under the weight of Supratim's dominating presence and skilled touch.

Suddenly, a sharp intake of breath cuts through the room.

"Supratim, what are you..." Anita's voice trails off, a mix of apprehension and curiosity.

The soft rustle of fabric signals Supratim slowly lowering his boxers. A moment of tense silence follows, broken by Anita's sharp gasp.

[incest_cuck]

Looks like there isn't much interest in the story.

[incest_cuck]

"Oh my gosh," Anita whispers, her voice a blend of awe and trepidation. "That's... you're..."

"Like what you see?" Supratim's smug tone fills the air.

From his hidden vantage point, Arijit catches fleeting glimpses of movement in the dim light. A flash of skin, the outline of Supratim's impressive manhood - just enough to fuel his imagination and growing sense of inadequacy.

"We really shouldn't," Anita protests weakly, but her voice wavers. "This isn't right."

"Your eyes say otherwise," Supratim chuckles. "Can't take them off me, can you?"

Arijit hears Anita's breath hitch, imagining her eyes fixed on Supratim's exposed member despite her words. The sharp intake of air speaks volumes, revealing Anita's awe and desire even as she tries to resist.

"I'm engaged,” she insists, but her voice lacks conviction. “We can’t do this.”

In his mind's eye, Arijit can picture Anita's face - eyes wide, pupils dilated with unmistakable lust as she beholds Supratim's impressive cock. The sound of skin on skin confirms his worst fears: Supratim guiding Anita's hand to his length. His imagination fills in the excruciating details. Supratim's large hand engulfs Anita's delicate one, wrapping her trembling fingers around his thick shaft. The size difference is stark - her small hand barely encircles his girth, painting a picture of masculine dominance that Arijit knows he can never match.

“Ummphhhh…”, A soft whimper escapes Anita's lips, laden with awe and unconscious desire. It's a sound she's never made for Arijit, cutting deep into his soul and cementing his feelings of inadequacy. Each fragment of sensory input only serves to heighten Arijit's anguish, forcing him to confront the bitter reality of his own shortcomings.

“It’s so...” Anita starts, then catches herself. “No, we have to stop.”

But her actions belie her words. Arijit hears the subtle, rhythmic sound of her hand moving along Supratim's shaft, her breathing growing heavier.

As he strains to see more, to hear every detail, Arijit becomes acutely aware of his own body's response. His arousal builds, throbbing insistently, impossible to ignore. The realization hits him like a punch to the gut – his humiliation, his inadequacy compared to Supratim, is fuelling his excitement. Shame and arousal war within Arijit, each feeding the other in a dizzying spiral. He wants to look away, to block out the sounds, but finds himself more captivated than ever.

The internal conflict rages – how can he be aroused by his own humiliation? By hearing his fiance’s resolve crumble in the face of another man's superior endowment? Yet undeniably, undeniably, he is.

Arijit's cock strains against his pants, betraying his twisted excitement. His breath comes in short, silent gasps as he listens to Anita's mounting pleasure. The air grows thick with tension as Supratim escalates his advances. The wet sounds of aggressive kissing fill the room, punctuated by Anita’s muffled whimpers.

“Mmph... Supratim, wait...” Anita gasps between kisses, her protest weak and unconvincing.

Arijit hears the soft slap of skin on skin as Supratim's large hands find Anita's bare breasts, kneading roughly. Her sharp intake of breath is followed by a low, involuntary moan. The sound sends a jolt of electricity through his body, his cock twitching traitorously in response.

“Keep stroking,” Supratim commands huskily. “Feel how much bigger I am than your pathetic husband.”

The rhythmic sound of Anita’s hand on Supratim’s shaft continues, growing faster despite her feeble objections.

“We shouldn’t... oh god,” Anita moans, her resistance crumbling with each passing second. “Your hands... they’re so...”

From his hidden vantage point, Arijit catches glimpses of their entangled forms. The sight of Supratim's large hands mauling Anita's naked breasts, her smaller hand wrapped around his impressive girth – it's all seared into Arijit's mind.

He sees Supratim's head dip down, followed by Anita's sharp gasp, “Ohhhhhhh… …mmmmmm!!!” The wet sounds of his mouth on her nipples reach Arijit's ears, along with her stifled moans.

“Supratim, please,” Anita whimpers, but whether she’s begging him to stop or continue is unclear even to her.

Arijit's own arousal builds to a fever pitch, shame and excitement warring within him. The realization that he's becoming aroused by his own humiliation, by watching his topless fiancé succumb to another man, is both disturbing and intoxicating.

He wants to look away, to stop this before it goes too far. But Arijit finds himself paralyzed, captivated by the scene unfolding before him. Each moan, each wet sound of Supratim's mouth on Anita's breasts, each whispered command from him – it all serves to deepen Arijit's descent into the unknown. The soft whimpers of pleasure escaping Anita's lips, so different from any sound she's made with him, pierce Arijit's heart. Yet they also send jolts of twisted excitement straight to his groin. He watches, mesmerized, as Supratim's large hands roam Anita's body with confident possessiveness, claiming territory that was once Arijit's alone.

Supratim’s reaction to Anita’s growing submission is palpable, his confidence and dominance radiating through every action and word.

“That’s it,” he growls, his voice thick with lust and triumph. “You’re finally giving in to what you really want.”

Arijit hears the wet sounds of Supratim's mouth leaving Anita's breast, followed by a sharp gasp from his fiance as Supratim roughly pinches her nipple. “Look at you,” Supratim taunts, “Arijit’s faithful fiance, stroking another man’s cock. And loving every second of it.”

His words are punctuated by the sound of skin on skin – his hand guiding Anita’s movements on his shaft, urging her to stroke faster.

“Tell me how it feels,” he demands. “Tell me how much bigger I am than your husband.”

Anita whimpers, caught between shame and arousal. “I... I can’t...”

“You can, and you will,” Supratim insists, his voice low and commanding. “Say it!”

From his vantage point, Arijit sees Supratim's large hand wrap around Anita's throat, not choking but asserting his dominance. Anita's eyes widen, a mix of fear and excitement visible even in the dim light.

“You’re... you’re bigger,” she finally admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “So much bigger...”

Supratim’s laugh is dark and triumphant. “And what does that make Arijit?”

A moment of silence follows, broken only by Anita’s ragged breathing. Then, so quietly you almost miss it:

“Inadequate,” Anita whispers, and Ariijt feels his world shattering before him.

Supratim’s reaction is immediate and intense. He pulls Anita closer, his hands roaming her body possessively. “That’s right,” he growls. “And now you’re mine to do with as I please.”

The sound of more aggressive kissing fills the air, mixed with Anita’s muffled moans. Arijit's heart races as he listens, his imagination filling in the gaps with torturous detail. He pictures Supratim's large hands gripping Anita's hips, pulling her flush against his hairy, muscular body.

As the passionate kissing continues, Arijit hears the soft thud of Anita's back hitting the wall. Supratim's voice, thick with lust, cuts through the heavy breathing:

"On your knees, Anita. Show me how much you appreciate a real man's cock."

"What? No!" Anita gasps, her tone a mix of shock and indignation. "I can't do that. It's too far!"

Arijit hears the rustle of movement, imagining Supratim pulling Anita closer. "Come on, baby. You've already crossed the line. What's one more step?"

The tension in the room is palpable as Arijit strains to hear Anita's response. His own body betrays him, arousal warring with shame as he awaits his fiance's decision.

[incest_cuck]

"Please, Supratim," Anita pleads. "I'm not that kind of woman. I've never even done that for Arijit."

Arijit hears the soft thud of Supratim's hand against the wall, caging Anita in. His breath catches in his throat, anticipation and dread warring within him. "That's because Arijit doesn't deserve it. But I do.", Supratim chuckles darkly. "Just a kiss.”, he continues to coax her, "One little kiss on the tip. Then we'll stop if you want."

Anita's breathing is heavy, uncertain. "I... I don't know..."

"Think about how it felt in your hand," Supratim continues. "Don't you want to taste it?"

A moment of silence follows, broken only by Anita's shaky exhale. Then, the soft sound of her knees hitting the floor reaches your ears. Arijit's cock throbs painfully in his pants. The sounds coming from Supratim's office should disgust him, but instead, they send jolts of shameful arousal through his body.

"That's it," Supratim encourages. "Just a little closer."

Arijit strains to see more, his heart pounding. The dim light offers tantalizing glimpses - Anita's bare breasts, Supratim's imposing figure looming over her. Arijit’s eyes dart frantically, trying to piece together the scene through the narrow slats of the blinds. A flash of brown skin here, the outline of Supratim's broad shoulders there. He catches sight of Anita's dark-brown nipples, hard and peaked in the cool air of the office. Arijit's imagination fills in the gaps, painting a vivid picture that's equal parts arousing and agonizing.

"Oh god," Anita whimpers. "It's so... big."

"Kiss it," Supratim commands softly. "Show me how much you want it."

A moment of tense silence follows. Then, the wet sound of lips on flesh. Anita's muffled gasp. Supratim's low groan of satisfaction.

Arijit's world starts spinning. His fiance, his Anita, is kissing another man's cock. And he's hiding in the shadows, more aroused than he's ever been in his life!

The wet sounds of Anita's lips and tongue on Supratim's shaft reach Arijit's ears, each noise sending a jolt of electricity straight to his groin. His cock strains painfully against his pants, demanding attention even as his mind reels from the implications.

"Fuck," Supratim's deep voice groans. "That's it, baby. Worship my cock."

Arijit's breath comes in short, silent gasps as he listens to Anita's muffled moans. He can almost see her, eyes closed in concentration as she lavishes attention on Supratim's impressive member. The image should repulse him, but instead, it fuels his twisted arousal. A particularly loud slurp followed by Anita's gasp for air makes Arijit's knees weak. He leans against the wall for support, his hand unconsciously moving to palm his throbbing erection through his pants.

Shame and excitement war within him, each feeding the other in a dizzying spiral. Arijit knows he should be disgusted, should burst in and stop this. But he remains rooted to the spot, captivated by the sounds of his fiance’s infidelity and his own unexpected response to it.

Gradually, the room fills with the soft, wet sounds of Anita's increasingly confident oral ministrations on Supratim's impressive manhood. Her initial reluctance melts away, replaced by a familiar rhythm.

"Good girl!" Supratim encourages, his voice thick with desire. "You haven't forgotten a thing, have you?"

“Mmmmphhhh…”, Anita's muffled moan is followed by a deep groan from Supratim. "Fuck, yes. Just like old times.", he groans.

From his hidden vantage point, Arijit catches glimpses of the unthinkable scene unfolding. His fiance, on her knees, her lips wrapped around another man's cock with practiced ease. The sight sends a jolt of confusing arousal through him, mingled with bitter betrayal. He remembers all the times Anita refused to do this for him. "I've never done it before," she'd say. "It's too humiliating." Yet here she is, expertly pleasuring Supratim as if no time has passed since their college dating days.

Arijit could hear Supratim's large hand tangles in Anita's hair, guiding her movements. "Fuck, you're still so good at this," he growls, his voice thick with pleasure. "Always knew you were a natural cocksucker. Take it deeper, like you used to."

The wet sounds grow louder, more rhythmic. Arijit imagines Anita bobbing her head, taking more of Supratim into her mouth with the skill of years of practice. The thought should disgust him, but instead, his cock throbs painfully in his pants.

“Your fiance has no idea what he’s missing, does he?”, Supratim praises.

Anita's response is muffled, but the implication is clear. This is a pleasure she's always denied her fiance, which apparently is reserved only for Supratim. Arijit feels a surge of humiliation. The realization hits him like a physical blow - how many times did she lie to him, claiming inexperience, when she was an expert all along?

"That's it, take it all," Supratim groans. "Show me you haven't forgotten our special technique."

Anita's muffled moans grow more frequent, interspersed with gasps for air. Arijit can almost see her eyes watering, mascara running down her cheeks as she pushes herself to take Supratim deeper. The wet sounds intensify, growing sloppier and more desperate.

"That's it, baby," Supratim encourages, his voice thick with lust. "Show me how much you've missed my cock."

Arijit's imagination runs wild, conjuring images of Anita's lips stretched wide, her throat working to accommodate Supratim's impressive girth. The sounds of their illicit encounter echo in his ears, each noise a dagger to his heart and a spark to his twisted arousal.

Supratim's demeanor gradually shifts, his encouragement turning more aggressive. "Come on, Anita. You used to take it all. Show me you still can." Arijit hears her gag, followed by a wet, sputtering sound. His stomach churns at the forceful tone, a mix of concern and twisted arousal warring within him. He strains to see through the blinds, catching only glimpses of Supratim's large hand tangled in Anita's hair, pushing her head down insistently.

The sounds of Anita's struggle reach Arijit's ears - choked gags and desperate gasps for air, accompanied by Supratim’s grunts of pleasure.

"That's it," Supratim growls. "Push past that gag reflex. You remember how."

From his hidden spot, Arijit continues to see glimpses of the depraved scene. Anita's head bobbing frantically, Supratim's hips thrusting forward. The sight sends a confusing mix of arousal and anguish through him.

"Ngh... Supratim, I can't—" Anita's protest is cut off as Supratim pushes deeper.

"Yes, you can," he insists. "Spit on it. Get it nice and wet."

The sound of Anita spitting reaches her fiance’s ears, followed by more gagging. Arijit’s cock throbs painfully, as he imagines the saliva dripping down Supratim's shaft and Anita’s lips stretched wide around his girth.

"Fuck, that's it," Supratim moans. "All the way down."

Anita's muffled whimper is followed by the wet sounds of her throat working around Supratim's length.

"Good girl," Supratim praises. "You haven't lost your touch at all."

Anita pulls back, gasping for air. "Please, Supratim... it's too much..."

But her feeble protest is ignored as Supratim guides her back down. "Just a little more, baby. You can do it."

The room fills with the obscene sounds of Anita's struggle - gagging, slurping, desperate gasps for air. And through it all, Supratim's encouraging groans.

After about 15 minutes of this, Supratim's grip on Anita's hair loosens as his breathing grows ragged. "Fuck, Anita... you're gonna make me cum if you keep that up."

He gently eases her off his throbbing member, allowing her to catch her breath. Anita gasps, a mixture of relief and arousal evident in her voice.

"That was incredible," Supratim praises, his tone husky with desire. "You haven't lost your touch at all. In fact, I think you've gotten even better."

Anita's voice is hoarse as she asks, "Is... is that enough?"

Supratim laughs, a deep, rich sound that sends shivers down your spine, Arijit. "Oh, baby. We're just getting started."

From Arijit’s hidden vantage point, he could see Supratim help Anita to her feet. His heart began racing, a confusing mix of jealousy, arousal, and curiosity coursing through his veins.

Supratim's next words send a shiver down Arijit’s spine. "You know, there's something else we used to do back in college. Something special. I think it's time we revisited that, don't you?"

Anita's sharp intake of breath is audible even from where her fiance is hiding. "No, Supratim. Not that. You know I hated doing that, even back then."

"Come on, baby.", her boss coaxes, his voice low and persuasive. "You were so good at it. And I know deep down, you loved it too."

"I said no," Anita insists, but there's a tremor in her voice that suggests her resolve is wavering.

Arijit's curiosity is piqued. What could this 'special thing' be that Anita hated so much? And why does part of him desperately want to see it happen? His mind races with possibilities, each more depraved than the last. The shame of his own arousal mingles with an insatiable need to know, to witness every sordid detail of his fiancée's infidelity. Arijit's cock throbs painfully in his pants, a physical manifestation of his conflicted desires.

"Please, Anita," Supratim persists. "For old times' sake. I promise you'll enjoy it this time."

There's a moment of tense silence. You strain to see more, your heart pounding in your chest. What will Anita do? What is this mysterious act that has her so conflicted?

There's a moment of tense silence. Arijit strains to see more, his heart pounding in his chest. What will Anita do? What is this mysterious act that has her so conflicted?

[incest_cuck]

Not much interest in this story, I guess.

[incest_cuck]

Supratim moves to a nearby desk, his muscular form rippling as he lays back and lifts his legs, exposing his hairy posterior. "Come on, Anita," he says, his voice thick with lust. "You know what to do. Just like you used to."

Anita's sharp intake of breath is audible even from your hiding spot, Arijit. "Supratim, no... I can't. You know I hated doing that."

"But you did it anyway," Supratim counters, a smirk in his voice. "And you were so good at it."

Arijit's mind reels. Can it be true? His sweet, innocent Anita? His breath comes in short, ragged gasps as he struggles to reconcile this new information with the woman he thought he knew. He recalls Anita's shy smiles, her demure behavior in the bedroom. Was it all an act? How many other dark secrets has she been hiding? Despite those questions lingering in his mind, the thought of her performing such a depraved act sends a confusing mix of revulsion and arousal through him.

"Please, Supratim," Anita pleads. "Don't make me do this. It's... it's disgusting."

"Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it," Supratim insists. "Remember how hard it made me? How I'd fuck you after?"

Arijit feels sick, imagining his fiance's tongue in such an intimate, filthy place. But his treacherous body responds, his cock throbbing painfully.

"I... I never liked it," Anita protests weakly. "I only did it because you asked."

"Then do it for me now," Supratim demands. "Show me you still know how to please me."

Arijit's head spins. The image of his fiance, his Anita, debasing herself like this... it's too much. Yet he can't look away, can't stop listening.

"Supratim, please..." Anita's voice is barely a whisper.

"Now, Anita," Supratim commands. "Get that talented tongue of yours to work."

With trembling hands and a look of resignation, Anita approaches Supratim's exposed form. "I... I can't believe I'm doing this again," she whispers, her voice quavering.

Supratim's grin is wolfish as he spreads his legs wider. "That's it, baby. You remember how."

Through the narrow gap in the blinds, he catches glimpses of the obscene tableau. He watches, transfixed, as Anita kneels between Supratim's legs, her face inches from his hairy ass. His stomach churns with revulsion, yet his cock throbs traitorously. The image is astonishing! Supratim's muscular body sprawled on the table, his legs spread wide and lifted. Anita's delicate shoulders, her head tilted up as she gazes at Supratim's exposed posterior. The vulnerability of Supratim's position contrasts sharply with the power he still seems to exude.

A bead of sweat trickles down Arijit's temple as he strains to see more. His breath continues in short, silent gasps, his heart pounding so loudly he fears they'll hear it through the door.

"That's it, baby," Supratim's deep voice encourages. "Show me how much you've missed this view."

He watches, helpless, as Anita leans in closer. Her hands come up to grip Supratim's muscular thighs, steadying herself as she moves her face towards his exposed ass.

Her tongue darts out, tentatively at first, then with growing confidence as she laps at Supratim's puckered hole. Arijit watches in horrified fascination as Anita's pink tongue navigates the coarse hair surrounding Supratim's intimate area. She starts with small, hesitant licks, her face flushing as she works around the dark, wiry curls.

Supratim groans deeply, encouraging her. "That's it, baby. Keep going."

Emboldened, Anita's licks become longer, more purposeful. Her tongue flattens, dragging slowly across the sensitive flesh, parting the hair as she goes. Arijit can see her jaw working as she varies her technique - quick flicks followed by broad, wet strokes. Supratim's hips begin to move, grinding subtly against Anita's face. His hands tighten on his thighs, pulling his legs wider apart. Anita responds eagerly, her tongue probing more insistently at his entrance, pushing past the ring of hair.

The wet, obscene sounds of her ministrations reach Arijit's ears, each slurp and moan sending shockwaves of revulsion and unwanted arousal through his body. He can see Anita's head moving rhythmically, her face buried between Supratim's ass cheeks as she works her tongue with evident skill and enthusiasm. Arijit's stomach churns even as his cock throbs painfully in his pants. The sight of his fiance performing such a depraved act is simultaneously repulsive and mesmerizing. He wants to look away, but finds himself captivated by every lewd detail - the sheen of saliva on Anita's chin, the way Supratim's hole clenches and relaxes under her attention, the look of ecstasy on Supratim's face.

"Fuck yes," Supratim groans, his head thrown back in ecstasy. "That's it, Anita. Get that tongue in deep."

“Mmmphhh…”, Anita's muffled whimpers mix with the obscene slurping sounds as she works her tongue deeper into Supratim's hairy ass. Arijit watches, mesmerized, as her head bobs between Supratim's muscular thighs. Her hands grip his flesh, fingers digging in as she pushes her face closer, desperate to please.

Supratim's cock twitches and leaks precum onto his stomach, a clear sign of his arousal. The thick shaft pulses with each probe of Anita's tongue, a string of sticky fluid connecting the tip to the pool forming on his abs. The wet sounds grow louder, more insistent. Anita's nose is pressed against Supratim's taint, her chin slick with saliva. She moans softly, the vibrations clearly felt by Supratim, who bucks his hips in response.

"Fuck, Anita, yes!" Supratim cries out. "Just like that!"

Anita responds to Supratim's demands with renewed vigor. Her tongue stiffens, probing insistently at his puckered hole. With a muffled moan, she breaches his tight ring, tongue delving inside. She begins to thrust, fucking Supratim's ass with her tongue as he groans in ecstasy. Saliva dribbles down her chin as she works, lost in the depraved act. Her head bobs rhythmically, nose pressed against his taint with each forward push.
The obscene, wet sounds of her rimming fill the room, punctuated by Supratim's grunts and Anita's muffled moans. She alternates between deep thrusts and broad licks across his sensitive hole, her technique honed from past experience.

Arijit starts shaking, disgust and arousal warring within him. The sight of his fiance's face buried in another man's ass, her tongue eagerly working his most intimate area, is both repulsive and intensely erotic.

Supratim's moans grow louder, more frantic. "Oh fuck, I'm close. Don't stop, Anita. Don't you dare fucking stop!"

Anita continues her degrading act, her face contorted in disgust even as her tongue probes deeper. Supratim's aggression mounts, his hands roughly gripping her hair.

"That's it," he snarls. "Do it like the dirty girl you are." Supratim's hips buck violently, practically smothering Anita. "Deeper! Show me how much you love it!"

Anita's head bobs rapidly, her tongue fucking in and out of Supratim's hole with increasing speed. Streams of saliva dribble down her chin, soaking Supratim's ass and dripping onto the floor below.

Supratim's cock throbs and leaks, a steady stream of precum now pooling on his stomach. His balls draw up tight against his body, a clear sign of his impending climax. He grinds his ass against Anita's face, practically riding her tongue as she works him closer to the edge.

Anita's own arousal is evident in the flush of her skin and the way her hips grind subtly against nothing. She's lost in the act, her world narrowed down to the taste and feel of Supratim's most intimate area. Her tongue swirls and probes, exploring every ridge and fold inside him.

"Look at you, so eager to please," Supratim taunts. "What would your fiance think if he could see you now?"

Arijit's fists clench as shame and anger war within him. But still, he watches, his own arousal an unrelenting torment. His nails dig painfully into his palms, the physical discomfort doing little to distract from the emotional turmoil raging inside. Arijit's jaw clenches, teeth grinding as he struggles to process the scene before him. Anger bubbles up - at Anita for her betrayal, at her boss for taking what isn't his, at himself for his body's traitorous response. The shame is overwhelming, threatening to consume him. How can he be aroused by this? What kind of man gets turned on watching his fiance with another? Yet despite the conflict tearing him apart, Arijit can't look away. His eyes remain fixed on the lewd tableau, drinking in every detail. His breathing is ragged, pulse racing as he battles his warring emotions.

Supratim's groans of pleasure grow more intense as Anita continues her degrading act. Suddenly, he grips her hair tightly, pulling her face away from his posterior.

"That's enough of that," he pants, his eyes dark with lust. "Now it's time for you to use that talented mouth of yours somewhere else."

Anita gasps for air, her face flushed and tear-stained. Arijit could see the relief in her eyes at being freed from her previous task, but it's quickly replaced by apprehension as she realizes what's coming next.

Supratim shifts his position, his manhood now inches from Anita's face. "You know what to do," he commands, his voice husky with desire.

Arijit feels a surge of hope as his fiance hesitates, her eyes darting between Supratim's expectant face and his throbbing member. A glimmer of the woman he thought he knew shines through, and for a moment Arijit dares to believe this madness might end.

The moment stretches, taut with tension. Arijit's fists clench and unclench at his sides as he waits. Will this be it? Will Anita finally refuse? Will she put an end to this depraved encounter and return to being the woman he married?

But Arijit's hope is short-lived. With a resigned sigh, Anita leans forward, her lips parting to accept Supratim into her mouth. His heart sinks, a leaden weight settling in his gut as he watches his fiance surrender to her baser desires. The brief flicker of the woman he thought he knew is extinguished, replaced by this wanton creature before him.

Anita's pink tongue darts out, licking a long stripe up Supratim's shaft before her lips close around the swollen head. Arijit can see her cheeks hollow as she sucks, her eyes fluttering closed in apparent bliss.

Supratim groans deeply, his hand coming to rest on the back of Anita's head. "That's it, baby," he encourages. "Take it all."

Arijit watches in horrified fascination as Anita complies, her head bobbing lower. Inch by inch, Supratim's thick cock disappears into her eager mouth. The wet, obscene sounds of her sucking fill the room, punctuated by Supratim's grunts of pleasure, “Ohhhhhh….. Unghhh!!!”. His fingers tangle in her hair, guiding her movements with increasing urgency.

"God, I've missed that mouth," Supratim pants, his hips bucking upwards.

Anita gags slightly as Supratim's thick shaft hits the back of her throat, but she doesn't stop. Her fingers dig into his muscular thighs, steadying herself as she pushes further. Tears gather in the corners of her eyes, but her expression remains one of determination and lust. She pulls back slightly, only to dive down again, her lips stretched wide around Supratim's girth. Her tongue works the underside of his cock as she bobs her head, applying suction with practiced skill.

“Mmmmm….aargghhhhhh!!”, Supratim's groans of pleasure echo in the room, spurring Anita to redouble her efforts.

Despair washes over Arijit, mingled with a potent cocktail of anger, shame, and persistent, unwanted arousal. His fiance - his Anita - is gone, replaced by this cock-hungry slut servicing another man. Yet his treacherous body still responds, his own erection throbbing painfully in his pants as he watches the depraved scene unfold.

Supratim's pleasure intensifies visibly. "Fuck, Anita, just like that. Don't stop."

Arijit notices a subtle shift in Anita's demeanor. Her movements become smoother, more confident. The tension in her shoulders begins to ease as she falls into a familiar rhythm.

"God, you're amazing," Supratim pants, his fingers tangling in Anita's hair. "No one does it like you do."

A small, involuntary moan escapes Anita's throat. "Mmmmph," she hums around Supratim's thick shaft.

Arijit's heart clenches as he realizes she's starting to respond to Supratim's praise. His fiance's resolve is crumbling before his eyes, her initial hesitation melting away.

"You love this, don't you?" Supratim says, his voice husky with lust. "You've missed the taste of me."

Anita's pace quickens slightly, her hands now caressing Supratim's muscular thighs. Her fingers trace patterns on his skin, relearning the contours of his body.

"Mmmm... mmhmm," Anita moans, the sound muffled by Supratim's cock but unmistakably affirmative.

"That's my girl," Supratim encourages, his hips bucking slightly. "Show me how much you've wanted this."

Her eyes flutter closed, losing herself in the act. Arijit watches in stunned silence as his fiance surrenders completely to her desires. The wet, obscene sounds of her enthusiastic sucking fill the room, punctuated by her increasingly vocal moans of pleasure.

Another moan from Anita, louder this time. "Mmmphh... ohh..." She pulls off for a moment, gasping wetly before diving back down.

Her eyes flutter closed, losing herself in the act. Arijit watches in stunned silence as his fiance surrenders completely to her desires. The wet, obscene sounds of her enthusiastic sucking fill the room, punctuated by her increasingly vocal moans of pleasure.

"Ohh... mmm... slurp... gag," Anita mumbles between strokes, her vocalizations growing more desperate and eager.

Supratim's groans of pleasure mix with Anita's muffled exclamations, creating a lewd symphony that tears at Arijit's heart. He can see the blissful expression on Anita's face, the way she worships Supratim's cock with lips, tongue, and throat.

"Gluk... gag... mmmph," Anita gurgles, coming up for air before plunging back down.

Arijit is paralyzed, watching his fiance slowly succumb to Supratim's influence. Her walls aren't completely down, but they're weakening with each passing moment. The poor man's eyes dart between Anita's flushed face and Supratim's expression of smug satisfaction. He can see the change happening in real-time - the last of Anita's hesitation melting away, replaced by growing enthusiasm.

[incest_cuck]

Supratim gently tugs Anita's hair, signalling her to stop. "Mmm, that's enough for now. Stand up, let me look at you." He remains seated on the table, chest heaving as he catches his breath.
 
Anita rises unsteadily, her legs trembling. As the haze of arousal begins to clear, a wave of shame washes over her. She wraps her arms around her bare torso, averting his gaze.
 
Arijit is struck by her appearance. Anita's hair is a wild tangle, makeup smeared across her flushed face. Dark streaks of mascara run down her cheeks, mingling with the glistening traces of her previous activities. He stares, transfixed by the sight of his fiance in such a debauched state. Her lips are swollen and red, still wet from Supratim's cock. Saliva and precum glisten on her chin, trailing down her neck.
 
"Hey now, don't hide from me," Supratim coos, his voice gentle despite his labored breathing. "You're absolutely stunning like this."
 
Anita's lower lip quivers, tears welling in her eyes as the full weight of her actions hits her. "I... I shouldn't have..." she whispers.
 
"Shh, it's okay," Supratim soothes, reaching out to caress her arm. "You did beautifully. There's nothing to be ashamed of."
 
Arijit watches as Supratim consoles his fiance. A confusing mix of emotions churns within him - disgust at the intimate scene before him, arousal at Anita's disheveled state, and a twinge of jealousy at Supratim's tender words. His stomach twists as he sees her boss gently brush a strand of hair from his fiance’s face, his touch lingering on her cheek. The tenderness of the gesture feels like a punch to Arijit's gut, a stark contrast to the rough treatment he witnessed earlier.
 
Supratim's eyes roam hungrily over Anita's form, his breath steadying. "You look incredible," he murmurs, "but I want to see all of you. Take off your pants."
 
Anita's eyes widen, her arms tightening around herself. "Supratim, no... we shouldn't go any further," she pleads, her voice trembling.
 
"Come on, Anita," he coaxes, his tone a mix of gentleness and desire. "We've already come this far. Why stop now?"
 
Arijit watches as his fiance shakes her head, taking a small step back. "This was a mistake. We need to stop," she insists, though her voice lacks conviction.
 
Supratim leans forward, his hand reaching out to caress her hip. "Don't overthink it. You want this as much as I do. I can see it in your eyes."
 
"Please," Anita whispers, her resolve visibly weakening. "We can't..."
 
"We can," Supratim counters, his fingers toying with the waistband of her pants. "Just let go, Anita. Let me make you feel good."
 
Arijit sees the conflict in Anita's eyes. Her body trembles, caught between desire and guilt. Supratim's persistence is wearing down her resistance, and Arijit can tell she's on the verge of giving in.
 
Supratim's fingers trace along her waistband while Anita’s breath comes in short, shaky gasps.
 
"I... we shouldn't..." she whispers, but her hips unconsciously lean into his touch.
 
Supratim's voice drops low, seductive. "Just relax, Anita. Let me take care of you."
 
His hands move to the button of her pants, slowly unfastening it. Anita's eyes flutter closed, a soft whimper escaping her lips.
 
"That's it," Supratim encourages. "You know you want this."
 
Arijit watches, transfixed, as Supratim begins to ease Anita's zipper down. Her resistance crumbles further with each passing second, the sound of the descending zipper echoing loudly in the tension-filled room. Anita's breath catches audibly as cool air hits her newly exposed skin. Her eyes flutter closed, a mix of anticipation and lingering guilt evident on her flushed face. Her hands, which had been hesitantly pushing at Supratim's chest, now fall limply to her sides.
 
"Supratim, please..." she breathes, but it's unclear if she's begging him to stop or continue.
 
Her boss’s fingers hook into her waistband, starting to slide her pants down over her hips. Anita trembles, torn between pushing his hands away or helping him.  
 
Anita whimpers softly, her hands fluttering uncertainly between covering herself and assisting Supratim. "We really shouldn't..." she protests weakly, even as she steps out of her fallen pants.
 
Arijit's eyes are drawn to the modest silk panties hugging Anita's curves. The sight of his fiance in such an intimate state of undress sends a jolt of electricity through his body.
 
Supratim's hands roam appreciatively over Anita's exposed skin. "Gosh, you're perfect," he growls. His fingers toy with the waistband of her panties, threatening to remove this final barrier.
 
Arijit feels his own arousal peaking. His hand unconsciously moves towards his groin, the urge to touch himself becoming nearly irresistible. The sight of his fiance being slowly undressed by another man is both horrifying and intensely erotic.
 
Supratim begins to ease Anita's panties down, revealing more of her soft skin. "Let go, Anita," he murmurs. "Give in to what you really want." His fingers hook into Anita's silk panties, slowly dragging them down. Her  soft gasp echoes in the room as more of her intimate flesh is revealed. Arijit watches, transfixed, as Anita's most private area comes into view.  A neatly trimmed thatch of dark, curly hair covers her mound, trailing down between her thighs. The carefully maintained triangle is a familiar sight to Arijit, yet it seems different now under Supratim's hungry gaze. The short, tidy curls accentuate the curves of Anita's pubic mound, drawing the eye downward. Arijit can see how the trim job emphasizes the plump outer lips of her pussy, now glistening with arousal.
 
"That's it," Supratim purrs, drinking in the sight of Anita's exposed body. "You're breathtaking."
 
Anita trembles, caught between shame and desire. Her eyes are squeezed shut, as if refusing to acknowledge her own arousal.
 
Supratim's hands roam freely over Anita's body now, eliciting small, involuntary moans from her. "I knew you wanted this," he murmurs, pulling her closer.
 
Arijit's internal struggle intensifies as he watches Supratim's hands roam over Anita's naked form. His fingers tremble as they move to his zipper, guilt and arousal warring within him.
 
Supratim towers over Anita, his imposing height emphasizing her vulnerability. His mouth traces a path along her neck as his hands explore every curve. "Perfect," he murmurs against her skin. "Absolutely perfect." Anita keeps her eyes tightly shut, her body betraying her with small shivers of pleasure. Shame colors her cheeks even as a soft moan escapes her lips.
 
Arijit frees his erection, his smaller 5.5-inch size a stark contrast to Supratim's impressive (what looks like) 8-inch penis. Self-loathing mingles with his arousal as he begins to stroke himself, unable to tear his eyes away from the scene before him.  
 
Supratim's hands cup Anita's breasts, his thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples. "Open your eyes," he commands softly. "Look at me, Anita." Anita's eyes flutter open hesitantly, meeting Supratim's intense gaze. Her olive skin flushes deeper as she takes in their position - his imposing form looming over her exposed body.
 
"That's it," Supratim murmurs approvingly, one hand cupping her face while the other continues to explore. "You're fuckin' exquisite." Anita bites her lip, torn between her natural shyness and the growing heat in her core. A soft whimper escapes as Supratim's hand slides lower, over her taut stomach to her neatly trimmed mound.
 
"Mmm, you got such a pretty little cunt," he says, his fingers parting her slick folds. "So wet for me already. You want my big cock inside you, don't you?" Anita whimpers, her hips bucking against his hand.
 
Arijit’s fingers tighten around his shaft, his hand moving faster as he watches his fiance submit to another man. A bead of precum forms at the tip as he runs his thumb over the sensitive head. He spreads the moisture down his shaft, his strokes becoming smoother, faster. The lewd sound of skin on skin mingles with the moans and grunts from the couple before him.
 
Supratim's mouth claims Anita's in a searing kiss. His lips crash against hers, demanding and possessive. For a moment, Anita stiffens, her last shred of resistance flickering briefly. But then, as if a dam has broken, she begins to respond. Her lips part, allowing Supratim's tongue to plunge into her mouth. A muffled moan escapes her as their tongues intertwine, dancing in a frenzied rhythm. His tongue was mimicking the movements his cock will soon make. Anita's hips begin to grind against Supratim's fingers, seeking friction. Their bodies meld together as the kiss continues, hot and hungry. When they finally break apart, both are panting heavily, their eyes dark with lust.

Arijit continues to watch, his hand moving mechanically as conflicting emotions churn within him. The sight of his wife's pleasure at another man's hands both repulses and arouses him.

[incest_cuck]

Supratim's fingers become more insistent, drawing a reluctant moan from Anita. "Ohhh... god..." she whimpers, her hips beginning to move of their own accord, seeking more contact.

Encouraged by her whimpers and moans, Supratik’s fingers continue their expert exploration, eliciting increasingly passionate responses from his employee and his former college date. Her olive skin glistens with a fine sheen of sweat as she writhes under his ministrations. "Mmm... ah... fuck..." she pants, her voice breathy and high-pitched.

"That's it," Supratim murmurs, his voice low and seductive. "Let yourself feel good, Anita. You deserve this."

Anita's breath comes in short, sharp gasps. “Fuck... fuck... fuck..." she chants, her voice rising in pitch and volume. Her eyes flutter open, meeting Supratim's intense gaze. The raw desire she sees there sends a shiver down her spine. "Ah! Ah! Ah!", she cries out, her body trembling, her hips bucking involuntarily against his hand. The pressure builds within her, a tidal wave threatening to break at any moment.

Arijit watches, transfixed, as his fiance teeters on the edge of ecstasy. His own hand moves faster, matching the rhythm of Supratim's fingers. The guilt and shame swirling in his gut only seem to heighten his arousal. The lewd sounds fill the room – his fiance’s moans, the wet noises of her boss’s fingers - echo in Arijit's ears. His own ministrations seem pathetic in comparison, yet he can't bring himself to stop.

Supratim leans in, his lips brushing against Anita's ear. "Cum for me," he commands softly. "Let go, Anita. Show me how much you want this." Anita's resolve crumbles entirely. With a cry that's equal parts pleasure and anguish, she surrenders to the sensations. Her body arches, trembling violently as waves of pleasure crash over her. Supratim holds her close, murmuring words of praise as he guides her through her climax. His free hand roams possessively over her quivering form, as if staking his claim.

As Anita's cries of pleasure fill the room, Arijit feels his own release building. The sight of his fiancé coming undone at another man's touch pushes him dangerously close to the edge. His hand moves faster, his grip tightening as he strokes himself furiously. His breath comes in short, sharp pants, his chest heaving with each labored inhale. Sweat beads on his brow, trickling down his temples as the tension in his body builds to a fever pitch.

Anita naked body collapses onto the cabin floor, her chest heaving as she struggles to catch her breath. Her olive skin glistens with sweat, her body still trembling from the intensity of her release. She lies there, vulnerable and exposed, as the reality of what just transpired begins to sink in. Supratim towers over her prone form, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he surveys his handiwork. He brings his fingers to his mouth, savoring the taste of his employee’s arousal with a low, appreciative groan.

"Delicious," he purrs, his eyes never leaving Anita's flushed face. "I knew you'd taste divine."

Anita's cheeks burn with shame, but she can't bring herself to look away from Supratim's intense gaze. Her body still hums with residual pleasure, betraying her attempts to regain composure.

Arijit forces himself to slow his strokes, not wanting to reach his peak too soon. The sight of his fiancé sprawled out on the floor, thoroughly pleasured by another man, sends conflicting waves of arousal and anguish through him. His eyes remain fixed on her flushed form, drinking in every detail of her post-orgasmic bliss. The sheen of sweat on her skin, the rise and fall of her breasts as she pants, the way her thighs tremble - it all sears itself into his memory, arousing and agonizing in equal measure. His hand moves at a torturous pace now, fingers loosely gripping his shaft as he fights against the urge to just let go. His breath comes in shaky gasps, his chest heaving with each labored inhale as he struggles to maintain control.

Supratim kneels beside Anita, his hand trailing lazily along her trembling form. "We're far from done, my dear," he murmurs, his voice thick with promise and threat. "I intend to explore every inch of you before this night is through." He then gently slides his arms beneath her trembling form, lifting her effortlessly from the cabin floor. His towering frame dwarfs her as he cradles her against his chest, her olive skin a stark contrast to his hairy chest.

"There we go," he murmurs soothingly, carrying her to the large mahogany desk. "Let's get you more comfortable." He sets Anita down on the cool surface, his hands lingering on her skin. She shivers, whether from the temperature or his touch remains unclear.

"Shh, it's alright," Supratim coos, his fingers tracing patterns on her thigh. "This is exactly where you're meant to be, Anita. You know that, don't you?"

Anita's eyes flutter, conflict evident in her gaze. "I... I don't know," she whispers, her voice barely audible.

Supratim leans in, his lips brushing her ear. "Your body knows. It's been craving this, craving me. There's no shame in admitting it."

His hand slides up her body, cupping her breast. Anita's back arches involuntarily at the touch, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

"See?" Supratim smirks. "You want this. It's right, it's natural. Just let yourself feel good."

Arijit continues to stroke himself slowly, his eyes fixed on the scene before him. The sight of his fiancé nude and spread out on her boss’s desk, her body responding to his touch, sends jolts of arousal through him despite the ache in his chest.

Supratim reaches into his desk drawer, retrieving a foil packet. Anita's eyes widen as realization dawns.

"No, we can't," she protests weakly, attempting to sit up. "This is too far."

Supratim places a firm hand on her shoulder, gently but insistently keeping her in place. "Anita, darling," he purrs, his voice a blend of charm and authority. "We both know this is what you truly want. Why deny yourself?"

Anita shakes her head, her eyes replete with guilt. "But Arijit... I can't do this to him.", she says.

"You've already given me so much," Supratim counters smoothly. "Why stop now? Let yourself have this, Anita. Let me make you feel things he never could."

His fingers trace patterns on her skin as he speaks, eliciting involuntary shivers. Anita bites her lip, her resolve visibly wavering.

"I..." she begins, her voice trembling.

"Shh," Supratim soothes, leaning in close. "Just say yes, baby. Say yes, and I'll give you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams."

Arijit watches, breath caught in his throat, as Anita teeters on the precipice of a decision that will change everything. Will she give in to her boss’s seduction? Or will she find the strength to resist? His hand rests on his cock, frozen in anticipation. His eyes remain locked on his fiance’s face, searching for any sign of what she might do. The tension in the room is palpable, thick enough to choke on.

Supratim's hands continue to roam over Anita's sprawled out body, cupping her breasts, gripping her hips. Her mind races, a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Guilt crashes over her as her fiancé’s face flashes in her mind. Over a year of love and trust, about to be shattered by one moment of weakness. She imagines the pain in his eyes if he ever found out. Yet undeniable arousal courses through her body, responding to her boss and former lover’s skilled touch and commanding presence. A primal part of her craves to experience his passion fully.

Anita wonders if she'll be able to live with herself afterwards. Will the guilt consume her? Or will the memory of ecstasy make it worthwhile?

As her body trembles on the precipice of giving in completely to temptation or finding the strength to resist, Supratim positions himself between her trembling thighs, his impressive manhood brushing teasingly against her slick folds. A shudder runs through her body at the intimate contact.

"Feel how perfectly we fit together," Supratim murmurs, his voice low and seductive. "This is meant to be, Anita. Give in to what your body craves."

“Mmmm….”, Anita whimpers, her hips involuntarily arching towards him. Her eyes are squeezed shut, torn between desire and guilt.

Supratim continues his sensual assault, one hand caressing her breast as he slides himself along her wet entrance. "Say yes," he coaxes. "Let me show you pleasure you only used to know when we were in college together." Anita's breath comes in short gasps, her body responding eagerly to Supratim's ministrations despite her internal conflict. She doesn't explicitly agree, but her resistance is clearly crumbling.

Arijit watches with bated breath, his hand moving in slow, deliberate strokes. The sight of his fiance on the verge of surrendering herself completely and undoubtedly to another man both repulses and arouses him. His eyes remain fixed on her, drinking in every detail of her conflicted expression. The flush on her cheeks, the parting of her lips, the way her eyes flutter between desire and hesitation - it all sears itself into Arijit's memory.

Supratim positions himself at her entrance, ready to claim her fully. "Last chance to stop me," he warns, his voice husky with desire.

Anita's breath catches in her throat, a soft whimper escaping her lips. Her hips twitch involuntarily, betraying her need. "I... I..." she stammers, her resolve crumbling.

Supratim eases forward, his considerable girth stretching Anita as he enters her. She gasps again, louder this time, her body tensing at the intrusion. "Fuck," she hisses through clenched teeth. "Wait, I..." Anita protests weakly, her hands pressing against his chest.

"Shh, you can take it," Supratim soothes, continuing his slow advance. "Remember how we used to be in college? How wild and free?"

Anita whimpers, memories flooding back of their passionate encounters years ago.

"That's it," Supratim encourages. "Your body remembers me. Let go of your inhibitions, just like old times."

[incest_cuck]

Hey Guys! Your feedback really helps inspire me.

[incest_cuck]

Arijit watches, transfixed, as Supratim gradually sheaths himself inside his fiance. The sight of the condom offers small comfort as he witnesses this more masculine man claim her. His arousal builds despite the humiliation, his hand moving faster as Anita's resistance crumbles and she begins to respond to Supratim's thrusts. His fingers tighten around his own cock, stroking furiously as he watches his fiance's body accept another man.

Supratim's powerful form looms over Anita, his broad, hair-covered chest glistening with a light sheen of sweat. The stark contrast between his masculine physique and Anita's petite slim-thick frame is evident as he begins to move within her.

"That's it, baby," Supratim growls, his voice thick with lust. "Take all of me, just like you used to." Arijit’s eyes remain locked on the point where their bodies join, watching as this alpha male’s thick, hard shaft gradually disappears into the depths of his fiance’s womanhood.

"Ah... ah... ah..." Anita pants, each exhale punctuated by a little moan as her boss’s cock sinks deeper into her. Her legs tremble, wrapping tighter around his waist as if to pull him closer.

Arijit's hips buck involuntarily, thrusting into his own grip as he watches Supratim's hairy muscular ass flex with each powerful thrust. The sight of his fiance’s legs wrapping tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper, makes Arijit's stomach churn even as his cock throbs insistently.

Anita rarely speaks, but her body's response is unmistakable. Her fingers curl into Supratim's chest hair, clinging to him as she adjusts to his considerable size. Her back arches off the desk, pressing her soft breasts against his coarse hair.

Supratim gradually increases his pace, eliciting a silent gasp from his dusky, petite employee. Her eyes flutter closed, lost in the sensations overwhelming her. The polished wood of the desk creaks beneath them, protesting against the rhythmic pounding.

"Fuck, you're tight," Supratim growls, his hands gripping Anita's hips with bruising force. He pulls her closer to the edge of the desk, angling her pelvis to allow for deeper penetration.

“Huhhhhhh….”, Anita's breath catches in her throat as Supratim hits a particularly sensitive spot. "Oh gosh!!" she whimpers, her back arching off the desk. Her breasts bounce with each powerful thrust, her dark-brown nipples hardened to stiff peaks. Her hunky boss leans forward, capturing one of those tempting buds between his lips. He sucks hard, “Ohhhhhhhh…ahhh”, drawing a keening moan from her. His tongue swirls around her nipple, teasing and tormenting as his hips continue their relentless assault.

"You like that, don't you?" Supratim murmurs against her skin, his hot breath sending shivers down Anita's spine. "You like being fucked by a real man." Anita can only nod, words failing her as pleasure courses through her body. Her hands scrabble for purchase on the smooth surface of the desk, finally finding the edges and gripping tight.

Arijit's hand moves frantically on his cock as he watches through the blinds. His chest tightens as he sees her nod, gripping the desk, and with each glimpse of his sweet fiance’s pleasure-contorted face. His strokes quicken, matching Supratim's punishing rhythm. Shame burns through him, yet he can't stop. His breath comes in ragged gasps, cock throbbing as he witnesses this tall, hairy, masculine man ignite a passion in Anita he never could. Torn between rage and perverse excitement, Arijit's hand flies faster, his own climax building as he watches his fiance submit to her domineering boss.

Supratim straightens up, his hands sliding under Anita's thighs. In one swift motion, he hoists her legs over his shoulders, nearly bending her in half. The new angle allows him to penetrate even deeper, his girthy 8-inch cock hitting spots Anita had forgotten even existed.

"Oh fuck... oh fuck... oh fuck..." she chants, her voice rising in pitch with each thrust. Her eyes fly open, locking onto Supratim's intense gaze. The raw desire she sees there sends another jolt of arousal through her. The room fills with the sounds and scents of their passionate coupling.

Arijit finds himself stroking faster, dumbfounded by her reactions. The reality of his fiance's infidelity is undeniable now, yet he remains rooted to the spot, aroused and humiliated in equal measure.

Supratim's pace becomes punishing, his hips snapping forward with enough force to slide Anita back on the desk. He grabs her wrists, pinning them above her head with one large hand. The other snakes between their bodies, his thumb finding her clit and rubbing tight circles.

Anita's world narrows to the points where their bodies connect - Supratim's cock stretching her impossibly wide, his thumb on her clit sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her, his hand restraining her wrists. She feels utterly possessed, claimed in a way she hasn’t experienced in a long time.

"That's it," Supratim growls, feeling Anita's inner walls begin to flutter around him. "Cum for me. Let me feel you cumming on my cock like you used to." His words push Anita closer to the edge. She can feel her orgasm building, a white-hot pressure at the base of her spine threatening to explode.

"Please," she whimpers, not even sure what she's begging for.

Supratim seems to understand, though. He redoubles his efforts, his hips pistoning at a frantic pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, punctuated by Anita's increasingly loud moans and Supratim's grunts of exertion.

"Fuck! Oh gosh!" Anita wails, her body writhing beneath Supratim's powerful form. "It's so... so much!" Her cries echo through the room, a symphony of pleasure and pain that only fuels her boss’s ardor.

"That's it, baby. Let me hear you!" he growls, driving into her with increased fervor.

Arijit struggles to control himself, forcing his hand to slow its frantic pace. The sight and sounds of his fiance being thoroughly ravaged threaten to push him over the edge far too soon. His fingers tremble as he loosens his grip, fighting against the urge to stroke faster. His chest heaves with ragged breaths, his heart pounding so loudly he fears it might give him away. Sweat beads on his forehead as he battles his own body, torn between the desire for release and the perverse need to prolong this humiliating voyeurism. His eyes remain locked on the writhing figures beyond the window, drinking in every detail of his fiance’s submission to her domineering boss.

"Look at me," Supratim yells at Anita, his voice rough with desire. "I want to see your face when you cum."

Anita forces her eyes open, meeting Supratim's intense gaze. The connection seems to ignite something within her, pushing her over the edge. Her back arches off the desk and her screams reach a fever pitch, her body convulsing in what appears to be an intense orgasm. Supratim doesn't slow his pace however, fucking Anita through her climax. His thumb continues its relentless assault on her clit, prolonging her pleasure until it borders on pain. Anita's body shudders uncontrollably, waves of ecstasy washing over her again and again.

"Fuck... huhhh...stop… too much!" Anita gasps, her voice hoarse from screaming. Her hands push weakly against Supratim's chest, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations.

“Arrghhhhhh……!”, Supratim growls, his hips stuttering for a moment before he regains control. He leans down, capturing Anita's lips in a searing kiss that swallows her whimpers. Gradually, he eases back, his punishing rhythm slowing to a gentler pace.

Anita breaks the kiss with a shuddering gasp, her head falling back against the desk. Supratim's thumb leaves her oversensitive clit, instead gripping her hip as he continues to thrust languidly into her.

Supratim slows his pace further, allowing Anita to catch her breath after her intense climax. Her chest heaves as she gulps in air, her body still trembling from the aftershocks. Beads of sweat glisten on her flushed skin, her hair a wild tangle around her head.

Arijit's emotions spiral out of control as he witnesses Anita's earth-shattering orgasm. His hand trembles on his cock, torn between jealousy and arousal. A surge of inadequacy washes over him, knowing he's never brought Anita to such heights of pleasure. When Supratim slows his pace, allowing Anita to catch her breath, Arijit feels a twisted mix of relief and disappointment. His emotions churn violently - love, hate, lust, and shame all warring within him as he continues to watch his fiance in the throes of passion with another man.

"Fuck," Supratim pants, his own breathing ragged. Sweat glistens on his hairy chest as he fights to control his primal urges. "You still know how to milk a cock, baby."

Anita can only whimper in response, her eyes glazed with pleasure. Supratim grins wolfishly, his stamina clearly far from spent.

"Let's change things up," he growls, his hands gripping her hips. With a swift motion, he flips her onto her stomach, bending her over the desk. The sudden movement elicits a surprised gasp from his employee and Arijit’s fiancé.

Arijit watches, amazed, as this tall hunk maneuvers his fiance into this new position. His hand slows to a crawl, desperately trying to prolong his own pleasure.

Supratim adjusts Anita's stance, spreading her legs wider and pushing her chest flat against the cool surface of the desk. He runs a hand down her spine, causing her to shiver in anticipation. "Ready for round two?" he asks, his voice husky with renewed lust.

Anita nods eagerly, pushing her hips back towards him. "Mmmmhmmm….." she moans, her inhibitions long forgotten. Arijit’s breath catches in his throat as Anita arches her back, presenting herself to Supratim in a way she never has for her fiance. A bead of sweat trickles down Arijit's temple as he forces himself to maintain this torturous pace, fighting against the urge to stroke faster.

Supratim lines himself up, ready to claim her once more. The sight of his fiance, completely naked and bent over the desk, so wantonly offering herself to another man, sends an even stronger wave of arousal and humiliation through Arijit than before. His breath hitches as he watches Supratim's thick cock poised at Anita's entrance. His own neglected member twitches in his grip, a bead of pre-cum forming at the tip. His cheeks burn with shame, yet he can't tear his eyes away from the scene.

Supratim plunges back into Anita with renewed vigor, his primal instincts taking over. The desk creaks ominously under the force of his thrusts as he claims her from behind.

"Ungh... ungh... oh god..!!..", her guttural moans echo through the room, punctuated by sharp gasps. Her fingers claw at the smooth surface of the desk, desperate for purchase.

"Ah! Ah! Fuck!" Her cries grow louder and more desperate with each powerful thrust. In the meantime, her arousal reaches unprecedented levels, her body responding eagerly to her boss’s relentless assault. Her wetness is evident, glistening on her inner thighs and coating his thick manhood with each powerful thrust.

The obscene squelching sounds of their coupling fill the air, a testament to Anita's intense arousal. Arijit watches, mesmerized, as rivulets of his fiance’s arousal trickle down her trembling legs. The wet sounds of Supratim's cock plunging into Anita's drenched pussy echo in his ears, making his stomach churn with a potent mix of shame and desire. He feels a pang of inadequacy as he realizes he's never seen or felt Anita this wet before. The sight of her juices coating another man's shaft and running down her legs in thin streams is both horrifying and intensely erotic to Arijit.

"Mmmmphhhh... nnnnggghhhh... yes…yes…yes!" The wet sounds of their bodies connecting mingle with her vocalizations. Her juices drip onto the hardwood floor beneath her, forming a small puddle that grows with each passing moment.

Supratim growls appreciatively, feeling her slickness envelop him. "Fuck, you're soaked," he pants, his fingers digging into her hips. "Always so wet for me."

"Hah... hah... oh fuck!" Anita's voice rises in pitch, bordering on a scream, her body instinctively clenching around her boss’s girth. Her wetness seems to increase with each thrust, as if her body is desperate to accommodate his massive size.

Supratim's hands grip Anita's hips with bruising force, pulling her back to meet each powerful thrust. His hairy chest presses against her back as he leans over her, growling in her ear like a rutting beast. Anita's body responds instinctively, her back arching to take him deeper. Her eyes roll back, lost in the overwhelming sensations as her boss hits spots her fiancé never could.

The air is thick with the musky scent of their coupling, punctuated by the rhythmic slapping of flesh on flesh. Supratim's stamina seems endless as he continues to pound into Anita with unrelenting force. Arijit finds himself lightheaded, overwhelmed by the sensory onslaught of watching his fiance become wetter than he's ever seen her. He struggles to maintain control, his own release threatening to overtake him. The sight of his fiance being so thoroughly dominated by this alpha male is both agonizing and intoxicating. Moreover, the stark contrast between Supratim's dominant presence and his own voyeuristic position sends a fresh wave of humiliation through Arijit, yet he remains rooted to the spot, unable to tear himself away from the erotic spectacle before him.

[incest_cuck]

As the intense encounter stretches past the 15-minute mark, Arijit's feelings of inadequacy intensify. Supratim's stamina and skill are undeniable, far surpassing Arijit's own abilities in the bedroom. His stomach churns with a potent mix of shame and envy as he watches his fiance’s boss and former lover continues his relentless pace. He recalls his own performances with her, which rarely lasted more than a few minutes. The stark contrast between his quick finishes and Supratim's seemingly endless endurance sends a fresh wave of humiliation through him.

Finally, Supratim slows his pace and steps back, his chest heaving with exertion. He removes the condom, tossing it aside carelessly. "Come here," he commands Anita, his voice husky with desire. "Show me what that pretty mouth can do once more."

Anita turns to face him, her eyes dark with lust. Without hesitation, she drops to her knees before Supratim, eager to please. Her lips part as she leans forward, ready to take him into her mouth.

As Arijit watches his fiancé eagerly take her boss’s 8-inch, girthy member into her mouth, a crushing wave of emotions washes over him. The last shreds of hope that this was somehow coerced or reluctant on Anita's part crumble away, leaving him raw and exposed. His chest tightens as he witnesses his fiance's enthusiastic oral ministrations. Her willingness to pleasure this alpha male so thoroughly, without a hint of hesitation, cuts deeper than any physical betrayal. This isn't just lust - it's a complete surrender to another man's dominance.

Anita attacks Supratim's throbbing member with unbridled hunger, her inhibitions completely shattered. Her lips stretch wide as she takes him deep into her mouth, her tongue swirling around his shaft with practiced skill.

Supratim groans, his hand tangling in her hair. "Fuck yes, that's it," he growls. "Show me how badly you want it."

Anita responds by taking him even deeper, her nose brushing against his pelvis. She gags slightly but doesn't pull back, instead redoubling her efforts. Loud, obscene slurping noises fill the room as she works his length with desperate enthusiasm.

"Good girl," Supratim pants, his arousal clearly intensifying. "You love choking on my cock, don't you?"

Anita can only moan in response, the vibrations sending shivers through Supratim's body. Saliva drips down her chin and onto her heaving breasts as she bobs her head frantically, driven by an insatiable need to please him.

A toxic cocktail of jealousy, inadequacy, and arousal courses through Arijit's veins. He's painfully aware that his fiance has never shown such uninhibited desire with him. The sight of her on her knees, worshipping Supratim's impressive manhood, sears itself into his memory. His own arousal persists, a testament to the twisted nature of his voyeuristic torment. He feels a deep shame at his continued excitement, knowing he should be furious or heartbroken instead of achingly hard.

The wet, sloppy sounds of her oral worship grow louder, punctuated by Supratim's grunts of pleasure. Anita's hand works what she can't fit in her mouth, twisting and stroking in time with her eager sucking.

"Fuck, you're so good at this," Supratim groans, his hips starting to thrust involuntarily. "Such a hungry little cocksucker." Anita's eyes roll back in ecstasy at his words, spurred on by his vulgar praise. She takes him to the back of her throat again and again, gagging and sputtering but never slowing her frenzied pace. Her enthusiasm seems to push Supratim to the edge. His breath comes in ragged gasps, his fingers tightening in her hair. For a moment, it seems he might finish right then and there. But with a herculean effort, Supratim regains control.

He gently but firmly pushes Anita back, his cock slipping from between her swollen lips with an obscene 'pop'. Anita whimpers at the loss, her eyes glazed with lust as she looks up at him questioningly. Supratim pulls away from Anita's eager mouth, his cock glistening with her saliva. "On the floor," he commands, laying down. "I want you to ride me."

Anita moves to straddle him, but stops abruptly. "Wait, we need another condom," she says firmly, her earlier reluctance resurfacing.

Supratim grins wolfishly. "Fresh out, baby. But don't worry, I'll pull out."

"No way," Anita shakes her head, crossing her arms. "That's too risky. We can't."

"Come on," Supratim coaxes, his hands caressing her thighs. "It'll feel so much better for both of us. You know you want to feel me raw inside you."

Anita's resolve wavers slightly, but she stands her ground. "Supratim, I'm serious. It's not safe."

"Trust me," Supratim purrs, guiding her hips closer. "I'll be careful. Don't you want to feel every inch of me? I promise I'll pull out in time."

Anita bites her lip, visibly torn between desire and caution. "I don't know... What if something happens?"

"Nothing will happen," Supratim assures her, his voice low but commanding. "Just this once. Let yourself feel how good it can be."

After several long moments of internal struggle, Anita's lust finally overpowers her better judgment. "Fine," she whispers, her voice trembling slightly. "But you have to promise to pull out. No matter what."

"Promise," Supratim grins, pulling her closer.

Arijit watches as Anita prepares to take Supratim bare despite her initial resistance. The recklessness of their actions sends a jolt of arousal through him, mingled with a deep sense of dread. His eyes widen in disbelief as he sees his fiancé position herself over another man’s unsheathed cock. His hand trembles on his own shaft, his strokes becoming erratic as he processes the implications of what he's witnessing.

Anita slowly lowers herself onto Supratim's bare cock, gasping as she feels him enter her without any barrier. The sensation is intense, causing her to shudder with pleasure and trepidation.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Supratim groans, his hands gripping her hips.

Anita begins to move, rocking back and forth at a measured pace. Her modest 32B breasts tremble with each motion, her head tilted back in ecstasy. The raw friction of skin-on-skin contact sends jolts of pleasure through both of them.

"That's it, baby," Supratim encourages, guiding her movements. "Nice and slow."

Anita's breath comes in short gasps as she savors every inch of him. Her inner walls clench around his shaft, adjusting once again to his considerable girth. The heightened sensitivity without a condom is evident in her flushed cheeks and trembling thighs.

As Arijit watches this intimate scene unfold, a torrent of conflicting thoughts and emotions races through his mind:

Betrayal cuts deep as he witnesses his fiance’s willingness to take such risks with her boss - risks she's never taken with him. The raw intimacy of their unprotected coupling feels like a violation of their relationship's sanctity.

Inadequacy gnaws at him, seeing how she responds to Supratim's touch. Her trembling breasts, flushed cheeks, and gasps of pleasure are reactions he's rarely, if ever, elicited from her. He can't help but compare himself unfavorably to Supratim's prowess.

A twisted arousal persists, Arijit's body betraying him as he remains achingly hard. The taboo nature of watching his fiance's infidelity unfold feeds a dark, voyeuristic thrill he's ashamed to acknowledge.

Fear grips him as he considers the potential consequences. What if Supratim doesn't pull out in time? The possibility of Anita getting pregnant by another man terrifies and perversely excites him in equal measure.

Anger bubbles beneath the surface - at Supratim for seducing his fiancé, at his fiancé for succumbing to temptation, and at himself for allowing this to happen.

Humiliation washes over Arijit as he realizes how easily Supratim has claimed what he thought was his. His role as Anita's fiancé feels hollow and meaningless in the face of her obvious desire for another man.

A small, traitorous part of Arijit wonders if this is what Anita truly needs - someone more dominant and virile than himself. The thought of permanently ceding his place to Supratim sends a confusing jolt of arousal through him. As these thoughts swirl in his mind, he remains frozen in place, torn between intervening and continuing to bear silent witness. His hand trembles on his shaft, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he struggles to process the scene before him.

Anita's pace gradually quickens as she rides her boss, her hips moving with increasing urgency. Her eyes flutter closed, a mix of intense pleasure and lingering shame evident on her flushed face. Almost unconsciously, her hand drifts between her legs. Her fingers begin to circle her sensitive bud as she continues to impale herself on Supratim's bare length. The dual stimulation intensifies her arousal, causing her inner walls to clench rhythmically around him.

"Fuck, you're getting wet again!" Supratim groans, revelling in the slick heat enveloping his unsheathed manhood. "You love feeling me raw inside you, don't you?"

Anita can only whimper in response, caught between ecstasy and guilt as her body betrays her deepening arousal. Her modest breasts tremble with each bounce, nipples hardened to stiff peaks. The lewd, wet sounds of their coupling grow louder as her excitement mounts. Her fingers move faster against her swollen flesh, chasing her building pleasure with reckless abandon.

Supratim's hands roam upwards, finding Anita's pert breasts. His fingers tease and pinch her hardened nipples, eliciting a sharp gasp of pleasure from her.

"That's it, baby," Supratim growls encouragingly. "Let yourself feel good."

Anita grinds her hips in tight circles, taking Supratim impossibly deep. Her fingers continue their frantic dance between her legs as she chases her building climax. Soft whimpers and moans escape her parted lips with each breath. The added stimulation from Supratim's skilled hands intensifies Anita's arousal. Her inner walls flutter and clench around his bare length, her excitement evident in the slick sounds of their coupling.

"God, you feel amazing," Supratim groans, bucking his hips upward to meet her movements. "So tight and wet for me."

Anita's pace grows more frenzied, her shame giving way to raw need. She leans forward slightly, changing the angle to hit just the right spot inside her. The new position allows Supratim easier access to tease and torment her sensitive nipples.

As the erotic scene unfolds before him, Arijit's hand unconsciously drifts to his own aching arousal. He begins to stroke himself slowly, almost imperceptibly, as he remains transfixed by the sight of his fiance writhing atop Supratim. The evidence of her arousal is undeniable, glistening on Supratim's shaft with each rise and fall of her hips. The cabin fills with the sounds of their passion - Anita's breathy moans, Supratim's grunts of pleasure, and the wet, rhythmic slapping of flesh on flesh. Each noise sends a jolt through Arijit’s body, intensifying his conflicted arousal.

Anita's movements grow increasingly frantic as she nears her peak. Her fingers work furiously between her legs while Supratim continues to tease and pinch her sensitive nipples. The dual stimulation, combined with the raw friction of Supratim's bare cock inside her, quickly pushes her over the edge.

"Oh god, oh god," Anita gasps, her body tensing. "I'm... I'm...". Her words dissolve into a long, keening moan as her orgasm crashes over her. Anita's back arches, her modest breasts thrust forward into Supratim's eager hands as waves of pleasure course through her trembling form. Her inner walls clench and spasm around Supratim's length, milking him as she rides out her climax.

Arijit watches, simultaneously aroused and anguished, as his fiance experiences another round of intense orgasms at the hands of another man. The sight of her unrestrained ecstasy burns itself into his memory, a moment he'll never be able to forget. His emotions swirl in a tumultuous storm as he witnesses her repeated ecstasy. A deep, gnawing envy takes root in his core, knowing that Supratim has effortlessly achieved what he never could. The realization that he's failed as a lover cuts deeper than any physical pain. Yet, perversely, his arousal only intensifies!

As his fiancé trembles through her third or perhaps fourth climax, Arijit feels something fundamentally shift within him. Will he ever be able to look at Anita the same way again? Can their relationship survive this, or has Supratim irrevocably claimed what was once his?

[incest_cuck]

As Anita slumps forward, spent from her intense climaxes, her boss takes control. His hands grip her hips firmly as he begins to thrust upwards with powerful strokes.

"My turn!" he growls, his pace quickening. Anita gasps, overwhelmed by new sensations as Supratim hits spots deep inside her that she'd forgotten existed. Memories of their college trysts come flooding back, reminding her of pleasures long denied.

"Oh gosh, Supratim," she moans, her oversensitive body trembling. "It's too much..."

But Supratim is relentless, driving into her with increasing urgency. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through her exhausted form, building towards yet another peak she didn't think possible.

Arijit watches in conflicted awe as his fiancé experiences depths of pleasure he's never been able to provide. The realization that Supratim knows Anita's body better than he does sends a shudder through him. He feels simultaneously aroused and humiliated, his body betraying him as he continues to stroke himself while watching his once sweet, loyal, devoted fiancé’s infidelity unfold.

Meanwhile, Supratim's relentless pace continues, each powerful thrust eliciting a mix of whimpers and moans from the exhausted Anita. Her body, overstimulated yet craving more, responds to his expert touch as if reuniting with a long-lost lover. He also remembers one of Anita's favorite kinks from their college days. His hand comes down hard on her ass with a resounding smack, the sharp sting cutting through her pleasure-induced haze.

Anita cries out, her back arching as the pain mingles exquisitely with her building arousal. "Yessss!" she hisses, shocking Arijit with her enthusiastic response. "Again, please!" Supratim obliges, alternating between powerful thrusts and stinging slaps to Anita's reddening backside. Each impact sends shockwaves of pleasure through her oversensitive body, pushing her closer to the edge of another earth-shattering climax.

Arijit watches in conflicted fascination, his hand moving in agonizingly slow strokes along his length. The familiar urge to climax too soon builds within him, a constant reminder of his inadequacy. He fights against it, determined to last as long as this torturous scene playing out before him. He'd never known Anita enjoyed such rough treatment, the realization adding another layer to his feelings of inadequacy and perverse excitement. Supratim's actions were sending a fresh wave of anguish through Arijit. He'd always suspected Anita's past with this alpha male specimen was more significant than she'd let on, but seeing and hearing it confirmed while watching them rut like animals is almost too much to bear.

Anita's breathy cries grow more urgent as her boss angles his thrusts to hit her most sensitive spots. "Oh gosh! Oh………goshhhhhh!" she chants, her body trembling on the precipice of another orgasm. Arijit's own arousal builds in tandem with Anita's, his shame and excitement feeding off each other in a twisted cycle. He wants to look away but finds himself utterly transfixed by the sight of his fiancée approaching another climax at the hands of her domineering boss.

Supratim, sensing his employee and former lover’s impending release, slows his pace to draw out her pleasure. "Not yet, baby," he teases. "I want you to really feel this." Anita whimpers in frustrated need, her hips trying to grind down harder on her boss’s cock. The denial only serves to heighten her arousal further, pushing her towards an even more intense peak.

As her moans grow more desperate, Supratim pulls her down against his chest. His teeth find the sensitive juncture between her neck and shoulder, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. The sharp pain of the bite, combined with the continued assault on her other senses, finally pushes Anita over the edge. She screams in ecstasy, “Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!”, her body convulsing as her most intense orgasm yet crashes over her.  

Arijit struggles to maintain his slow pace as he watches his fiancée come undone in ways he's never witnessed before. The sight of the angry red mark on her neck - another visible sign of Supratim's claim on her - sends a confusing jolt of arousal through him.

As her orgasm subsides, Supratim gently guides the exhausted Anita off his still-rigid member, positioning her trembling form on all fours on the cabin floor. She collapses forward, her cheek pressed against the cool wood, utterly spent. Her naked body glistens with a sheen of sweat, her skin flushed pink from exertion. Her hair is a wild tangle, falling across her face in disarray. Marks of passion decorate her skin - reddened handprints on her ass, bite marks on her neck and shoulders. Her thighs quiver, slick with the evidence of her multiple climaxes.

Arijit's breath catches in his throat at the sight. Never has he seen Anita so thoroughly debauched, so completely claimed by pleasure. It's a vision of raw sexuality he could never have imagined, let alone achieved himself. His hand moves faster along his length as he drinks in every detail of his fiance’s exhausted form. The way her back arches slightly, presenting her still-needy sex. The rapid rise and fall of her chest as she struggles to catch her breath. The glazed look of satisfaction in her half-lidded eyes. He feels his own climax building again, a mix of shame and arousal pushing him towards the edge. The realization that he's about to orgasm to the sight of his thoroughly fucked fiancée only intensifies his conflicted desires.

Supratim positions himself behind Anita once more, clearly intent on taking her from behind again. He grips her hips firmly, positioning himself at her entrance of her love-canal. With a low growl, he slides into her welcoming heat once more. He starts with slow, deep thrusts, savoring the feeling of her exhausted body yielding to him completely.

Anita can only whimper softly, too spent to do more. Her fingers weakly grasp at the wooden floor, clawing as her boss gradually increases his pace. His thrusts become harder, more primal, each one drawing a breathless gasp from Anita's lips. “Huhhhh… huhhh…huhhh!”, she gasps. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the cabin once more, “Arrghhhhh!!!”, punctuated by Supratim's grunts of pleasure. His pace gradually intensifies though, his hips slamming against Anita's reddened ass with increasing force. His hand comes down in sharp, stinging slaps, reigniting the fire in her overwrought nerves.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!”, Each impact draws a hoarse cry from her lips, a mix of pain and renewed pleasure.

"Take it, you little slut," Supratim growls, his fingers digging into her flesh. "You've always belonged to me."

“Mmmmmmm…..”, Anita can only moan in response, her body jerking with each powerful thrust and spank. The term 'slut' sends a shiver down her spine, igniting a primal response deep within her core. Far from being offended, she feels a twisted thrill at being called such a filthy name. She's nothing more than a vessel for Supratim's pleasure now, and the realization seems to arouse her even further.

Arijit feels his own climax rapidly approaching as he watches this primal scene unfold. His hand moves frantically now, all pretense of control abandoned. The sight of his fiancée being used so roughly, coupled with the lewd sounds filling the cabin, pushes him to the very edge. As Supratim's thrusts reach a frenzied pace and Anita's cries grow more desperate, Arijit feels the familiar tightening in his groin. He's mere seconds away from his own release, unable to hold back any longer.

And then it happens! Arijit's climax hits him like a freight train, thick ropes of cum splattering against the office door as his legs give out. He collapses to the floor, spent and trembling, his seed slowly dripping down the polished wood.

Inside, Supratim maintains his punishing rhythm, each thrust punctuated by the sharp slap of flesh on flesh. Anita's exhausted whimpers grow more urgent as she teeters on the edge of yet another peak. "Oh god, I can't... it's too much..." she gasps, her body quivering uncontrollably.

"One more," Supratim growls, his fingers digging into her hips hard enough to bruise. "Give me one more, baby." His thrusts become more erratic as his own release approaches, his control slipping away entirely.

Anita wails as her fifth or sixth orgasm crashes over her, her overstimulated body convulsing violently. The rhythmic clenching of her inner walls finally pushes Supratim over the edge. “Argggghhhhhhh…..Aniiiitaaaaaa!”, with a primal roar, he buries himself to the hilt inside her, his cock pulsing as he empties his hot seed deep into her womb.  

"Fuck, take it all!" Supratim grunts, grinding against her ass as he fills her to overflowing. "Every last drop."

As their shared climax subsides, leaving only ragged breathing and the obscene sound of mingled fluids, Arijit remains slumped outside. He can hear Supratim's triumphant chuckle and Anita's contented sighs. The gravity of what's transpired begins to sink in, along with the realization that Supratim has left his mark inside Anita in the most primal way possible.

[incest_cuck]

HI BROTHER, your story is so erotic and hot. Let see ehat happen next amd how will arijit deal this matter?  And bro if possible please tell anita POV also ? Same matter with anita - what will she choose lust or love ?

Don't worry, brother. That's coming too. Have patience.

[incest_cuck]

As her boss’s hot seed floods her womb, Anita's eyes widen in a mix of shock and panic. Despite her exhaustion, she manages a weak protest. "No... you said you wouldn't..." she whimpers, her body trembling beneath him.

Supratim, still buried deep inside her, leans forward to whisper in her ear. "Shh, it's okay baby," he coos, his tone a perverse mix of tenderness and triumph. "I couldn't help myself. You felt too good."

Anita tries to squirm away, but her spent body betrays her. "But... what if..." she starts, her voice trailing off as the implications set in.

"Don't worry," Supratim soothes, running his hands along her sides. "If anything happens, I'll take care of it. You know I always have." His words, meant to comfort, only serve to remind Anita of their complicated history. She lets out a soft sob, overwhelmed by the physical and emotional intensity of the moment. Supratim slowly withdraws, watching with satisfaction as his seed trickles out of her now well-used pussy. "You're mine now, Rooney!" he murmurs, giving her ass a possessive squeeze. "Always have been, always will be."

Anita collapses fully onto the floor, too exhausted to argue or resist further. The weight of what's just happened settles over her like a heavy blanket. Her emotions are a turbulent storm as she lies there. Despite her exhaustion, her mind races. Betrayal cuts deep - Supratim broke his promise, violating her trust in a moment of selfish passion. The potential consequences of his actions weigh heavily on her.

Yet beneath the anger and fear, a twisted thrill courses through her. Supratim's primal claim on her body awakened long-buried desires she's tried to suppress. His domineering attitude and possessive words stirred something dark within her. Shame and guilt war with lingering arousal. She knows she should be furious, should push him away and run to Arijit. But part of her craves more, wants to submit fully to Supratim's control. Confusion clouds her judgment. Does she truly love Arijit, or has she been lying to herself all along? Supratim's actions have forced her to confront feelings she's long buried. As the haze of lust fades, fear creeps in. What if she becomes pregnant? How will this affect her relationship with her fiance? Can she trust her boss to keep his word about "taking care of things"?

On the other side of the door, Arijit's trembling hands fumble as he hastily gathers his belongings, desperate to escape the scene of his fiancée's defilement. His mind reels, unable to process the full weight of what he's just witnessed. He casts one last glance at the closed office door, imagining Anita's exhausted form still sprawled on the floor, marked and filled by another man. A toxic mix of shame, arousal, and fear courses through him as he realizes he can never unhear the sounds of her pleasure or unsee the sight of her surrender to her boss’s dominance.

Swallowing hard, Arijit makes a silent vow to keep this sordid encounter a secret. The thought of anyone discovering his role as a willing voyeur, of having to explain why he didn't intervene, is too much to bear. He'll have to live with this knowledge, this shame, alone.

Inside the office, Anita stirs slightly, her own mind clouded with conflicting emotions. Despite her exhaustion and the lingering anger at Supratim's broken promise, she knows she can't let anyone find out about this encounter. The potential consequences to her career, her reputation, and her relationship with Arijit are too severe.

As Arijit slips away, both he and Anita are united in their desperate need for secrecy.

After several minutes of heavy breathing and shared glances, Anita and Supratim slowly begin to gather themselves. They clean up as best they can with tissues from Supratim's desk, wiping away the evidence of their illicit encounter. Anita winces as she pulls on her clothes, her body aching from the intensity of their tryst.  Her domineering, alpha male boss puts on his shirt and straightens his tie, a smug grin still playing at his lips. "Ready to face the world, darling?" he asks, his tone dripping with false innocence.

Anita shoots him a withering glare, but nods. They approach the door, Supratim's hand on the small of her back, a possessive gesture that sends conflicting shivers through her. As Supratim turns the handle and swings the door open, they both freeze in shock. The outside of the door is splattered with unmistakable streaks of dried semen. The implications hit them like a freight train.

"Oh my god," Anita whispers, her face paling. "Someone was... someone heard..."

Supratim's eyes narrow as he examines the evidence. "Fuck!!" he mutters, his earlier smugness evaporating. "But who?"

They exchange panicked glances, minds racing through possibilities. "Maybe that nosy intern, Sulekha, from accounting?" Anita suggests weakly.

"Or the night janitor." Supratim adds, his jaw clenching. "Whoever it was, they got quite the show."

The realization that an unknown voyeur had been there, listening and pleasuring themselves to their encounter, sends Anita's mind reeling. How much did they hear? How long were they there? And most importantly, what if they decide to talk? Anita's face drains of color as she stares at the damning evidence on the door. Her heart pounds so violently she fears it might burst from her chest. Cold sweat breaks out across her skin as panic claws its way up her throat.

"Oh gosh! Oh my gosh!!" she whimpers, her voice trembling. "This can't be happening. Supratim, what have we done?" She rounds on him, eyes flashing with a mixture of fear and fury. "This is your fault!" she hisses, jabbing a finger into his chest. "If you hadn't... if we hadn't..."

Supratim catches her wrist, his grip firm but not painful. "Calm down," he says, his voice low and steady. "Panicking won't help anything."

"Calm down?" Anita's voice rises hysterically. "Someone watched us! They could tell everyone! I could lose my job, my reputation, Arijit..." At the mention of her fiancé's name, fresh waves of guilt and fear wash over her. What if Arijit finds out? The thought makes her knees weak.

Supratim pulls her close, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to her panic. "Listen to me," he murmurs. "No one's going to say anything. I'll handle this."

"But-"

"No buts," he cuts her off. "Go home. Act normal. If your fiancé suspects anything, it'll only make things worse." Anita wants to argue, wants to scream and rage against the situation they've found themselves in. But a small, traitorous part of her responds to Supratim's authoritative tone, wanting to submit to his guidance.

"O-okay," she finally manages, her voice small and uncertain. As Anita pulls away from Supratim's embrace and gathers her things to leave, her mind is a battlefield of conflicting emotions. Guilt and shame war with lingering arousal. Her body still tingles from Supratim's touch, even as her conscience screams at her betrayal of Arijit. She feels dirty, used - yet a part of her craves more. Anger simmers beneath the surface - at Supratim for pushing her boundaries, at herself for giving in so completely. Yet this anger is tinged with an undercurrent of excitement, a thrill at having been so thoroughly dominated.

A perverse sense of pride mingles with her shame. Despite her fear and guilt, part of her relishes being desired so intensely, being claimed so thoroughly. This realization only deepens her self-loathing. As she walks away from Supratim, Anita feels torn between two worlds. The safe, comfortable life she's built with Arijit now seems pale and insipid compared to the dark passion her boss offers. Yet the risks of pursuing this forbidden desire are terrifying.

She leaves, her body aching and her mind in turmoil, knowing that no matter what happens next, nothing will ever be the same again. The seed of temptation has been planted, and Anita fears it may have already taken root too deeply to ever truly excise.

In the meantime, as Arijit stumbles into the apartment he shares with Anita, his mind is a maelstrom of conflicting emotions as well. Shame burns hot in his chest. The memory of his own arousal while watching Anita's defilement makes him sick with self-loathing. What kind of man gets off on seeing his fiancée fucked by another?

Anger simmers beneath the surface - at Supratim for taking Anita, at Anita for submitting so completely, but mostly at himself for his cowardice in not intervening. Fear grips him like an icy fist. What if someone saw him? What if Supratim somehow knows he was there? The thought of confronting her boss makes Arijit's knees weak with terror. A twisted arousal still lingers, much to his disgust. The sounds of Anita's pleasure, the sight of her surrender - these images are seared into his brain, tormenting him with their perverse allure. Jealousy gnaws at his gut. The way Anita responded to Supratim, the passion in her cries - it was unlike anything she'd ever shown with him. This realization cuts deeper than any physical betrayal.

As he collapses onto the couch, Arijit knows one thing for certain - he must keep this quiet. Not just for the sake of salvaging his relationship with Anita, but out of fear of Supratim's potential retaliation. The thought of Anita's boss's smug, dominant demeanor makes Arijit's blood run cold. He sits in silence, dreading his fiancé’s return, knowing that every moment from now on will be tainted by the knowledge of what he witnessed. The secret festers within him, a toxic seed that threatens to poison everything he holds dear.

[incest_cuck]

Anita's hand trembles as she inserts her key into the lock, her heart pounding so loudly she's certain her fiancé will hear it from inside. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself before pushing the door open. "I'm home!" she calls out, her voice wavering slightly. She winces at how hoarse she sounds, her throat still raw from her boss’s brutal face-fucking.

Arijit's reply comes from the living room, oddly strained. "Welcome back."

Anita steps inside, her body aching with every movement. She can feel Supratim's seed still leaking from her, staining her panties. The thought makes her cheeks flush with shame and lingering arousal. As she rounds the corner, she sees her fiance on the couch, his posture tense. Their eyes meet, and for a moment, Anita fears he somehow knows everything. But no, that's impossible. She forces a smile.

"Long day at work." she says, trying to keep her tone light. "I'm just going to freshen up."

Arijit nods, his gaze oddly intense. "Everything okay? You seem... off."

Panic flares in Anita's chest. "Just tired," she lies, already backing towards the bathroom. "Nothing a hot shower won't fix."

Once inside, she locks the door and leans against it, exhaling shakily. She strips quickly, surveying the damage in the mirror. Bruises bloom across her hips where Supratim gripped her. Bite marks mar her breasts and neck. Her lips are swollen, her hair a tangled mess.

"Fuck!!" she whispers, tears pricking her eyes. How is she going to hide this?

She steps into the shower, hissing as the hot water hits her sensitized skin. As she washes, she can't help but remember Supratim's hands on her body, his cock stretching her so deliciously full. Guilt and arousal war within her. After scrubbing herself raw, Anita steps out and carefully applies concealer to the visible marks. She dresses in long sleeves and pants despite the warm weather, desperate to hide any evidence of her infidelity.

When she emerges, Arijit is in the kitchen, his back to her. "Want some dinner?" he asks, his voice oddly flat.

"I'm not really hungry." Anita replies, her stomach churning with anxiety. "Think I'll just head to bed early."

Arijit turns, his expression unreadable. "Are you sure you're okay? You seem... different."

Anita forces another smile, praying he can't see through her facade. "Just exhausted. Big project at work, you know how it is."

She approaches him, her heart racing. Should she kiss him? Will he taste Supratim on her lips? In the end, she settles for a quick peck on the cheek, ignoring the way Arijit stiffens at her touch.

"Goodnight," she murmurs, retreating to the bedroom.

As she lies in bed, Anita's mind races. The sheets feel wrong against her skin, tainted by her betrayal. She can still feel Supratim inside her, can still hear his grunts of pleasure mixing with her own wanton moans. In the living room, she hears Arijit moving around, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken tension. How long can she keep this secret? And what will happen when the truth inevitably comes to light?

Anita closes her eyes, but sleep eludes her. The memory of Supratim's domination haunts her dreams, leaving her torn between shame and a perverse longing for more.

Arijit’s emotions:

As Arijit watches Anita's retreating form, his mind churns with dark suspicions. Her hoarse voice and disheveled appearance set off alarm bells. He knows intimately the sound of her throat after it's been thoroughly used, and the way she winces with each step speaks volumes.

The way she avoids his gaze, her nervous energy - it's all too familiar. Guilt radiates off her in waves, confirming his worst fears about what transpired in Supratim's office. Her hasty retreat to the shower doesn't escape his notice either. Is she trying to wash away the evidence of her infidelity? The thought of her boss’s seed dripping down her thighs makes his stomach churn with a mixture of revulsion and perverse arousal. The long sleeves and pants despite the warm weather scream of concealment. What marks is she hiding beneath the fabric? Bruises from Supratim's rough handling? Bite marks declaring his ownership? Her lack of appetite is telling. Is she still full from swallowing Supratim's load? The image of Anita on her knees, eagerly devouring their boss's cock, flashes unbidden through Arijit's mind.

The quick, almost reluctant peck on his cheek feels like a slap in the face. Does she fear he'll taste another man on her lips? Or is she simply disgusted by his touch after experiencing Supratim's dominance? As Anita disappears into their bedroom, Arijit is left with a sickening certainty. His fiancée has been thoroughly claimed by another man, right under his nose.

As Arijit lies rigidly beside Anita in their shared bed, sleep eludes him entirely. His mind races with vivid, torturous replays of the afternoon's events. The sight of Anita, his beloved fiancée, bent over her boss’s desk, riding him on the floor, etc., her face contorted in ecstasy as she was ruthlessly pounded. The sound of her desperate, wanton moans echoing through the office door. The way she begged Supratim for more, harder, deeper - pleas she'd never uttered to Arijit himself.

As Anita shifts beside him in her sleep, Arijit tenses. He can smell the lingering scent of her shower gel, but underneath, his imagination conjures the musk of sex and Supratim's cologne. He wonders if she's dreaming of her illicit encounter, if even in sleep she longs for Supratim's touch.

The night stretches endlessly before him, each second an eternity of torment. Arijit knows that nothing will ever be the same again. Their relationship, his self-respect, his very identity - all have been irreparably shattered by what he witnessed.

The next day:

Morning arrives soon after as filters through the curtains, casting a harsh glare on the couple's shared bed. Anita stirs first, her body aching in ways that instantly bring memories of yesterday flooding back. She glances at Arijit, still feigning sleep beside her, and guilt twists in her gut. As she rises, wincing at the soreness between her thighs, Anita catches sight of herself in the mirror. A bruise peeks out from her collar - one she thought she'd hidden. Panic flares as she quickly adjusts her nightshirt.

In the kitchen, she busies herself making coffee, her movements stiff and awkward. The routine feels alien now, tainted by her betrayal. Every clink of a mug sounds like an accusation. Arijit emerges, dark circles under his eyes betraying his sleepless night. Their gazes meet, and for a moment, the air crackles with unspoken tension.

"Morning," Anita manages, her voice unnaturally high. "Coffee?"

Arijit nods, unable to form words. As he approaches, Anita tenses involuntarily. Does he smell her boss on her? Can he somehow sense the lingering evidence of her infidelity? They move around each other in a clumsy dance, hyperaware of every accidental brush or near-touch. Anita's mind races, replaying every moan and whimper she'd made under Supratim's ministrations. Arijit, for his part, can't stop staring at Anita's neck, at the hint of bruising he glimpsed earlier. His imagination runs wild, picturing Supratim's mouth there, marking her as his. The thought makes him sick with jealousy and, to his disgust, a perverse excitement.

"Big day at work?" he finally asks, his tone carefully neutral.

Anita nearly drops her mug. "Uh, yeah." she stammers. "Lots to do. Might be home late again."

The implication hangs heavy in the air. Arijit's knuckles whiten around his coffee cup. Will she be with Supratim again? The thought both infuriates and arouses him. As they prepare to leave, their usual goodbye kiss becomes an awkward ordeal. Anita hesitates, wondering if Arijit will taste Supratim on her lips. Arijit pauses, remembering where those lips were yesterday. In the end, they settle for a stilted peck on the cheek.

Anita's phone buzzes just as she's about to leave. Her heart leaps into her throat when she sees Supratim's name on the screen. With a furtive glance at Arijit, she answers, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Good morning, Anita." Supratim's deep, commanding voice sends shivers down her spine. "I hope you're not too... sore after yesterday's rigorous activities?"

Anita's cheeks burn as she stammers, "I-I'm fine, sir. Thank you."

"Excellent," he purrs, a hint of amusement in his tone. "I must say, you surprised me yesterday. I didn't expect such... enthusiasm from you. Did you enjoy yourself, Anita?"

She can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and her body responds traitorously, a damp heat blooming between her thighs. "Y-yes, sir," she admits, her voice barely audible.

"Good girl." her boss says, the praise making her weak at the knees. "Now, about that business trip we discussed last week. The client has confirmed the dates. We'll be leaving this Thursday for a long weekend in Puri." Anita's eyes widen. A whole weekend with her boss? Her pulse races at the thought.

"This is a crucial meeting for expanding our business," he continues. "Your presentation will be key to securing this client. I trust you'll be thoroughly prepared?"

"Of course, sir." Anita manages, her mouth dry.

"Excellent. Now, I've made all the necessary arrangements," Supratim adds, his voice taking on a reassuring tone. "We'll have separate hotel rooms, of course. I wouldn't want you to feel... uncomfortable." Despite his words, Anita detects a hint of suggestion in his voice that makes her shiver with anticipation.

"I appreciate that, sir." she replies, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Wonderful. We'll discuss the details further when you arrive at the office. Don't keep me waiting, Anita." The line goes dead, leaving Anita trembling. She turns to find Arijit watching her, his expression unreadable.

"Everything okay?" he asks, his voice strained.

Anita forces a smile, guilt and excitement warring within her. "Just work stuff." she says. "Actually, I forgot to mention... I have a business trip coming up. Leaving Thursday for the weekend."

Arijit's face pales slightly, but he nods. "Oh. Who’s going?" he asks, his tone carefully neutral.

"M-my boss." Anita admits, unable to meet his eyes. "It's an important client meeting. I'm doing a presentation." The silence that follows is deafening. Despite Supratim's assurance of separate rooms, both Anita and Arijit seem to sense the underlying current of possibility. Her body thrums with anticipation, even as shame gnaws at her conscience.

"Well," Arijit finally says, his voice hollow, "Good luck! I hope it's... productive."

As Anita leaves, the weight of her deceit heavy on her shoulders, she can't help but wonder: What twisted delights await her on this trip? And how will her relationship with Arijit survive the aftermath of whatever transpires in Puri?