[nadia]

Friend  should  write this story in tamil can you

Not familiar with Tamil but would appreciate it if you translate it for Tamil readers.

[nadia]

Make sunita caught by her son during the act with Arjun and try to narrate how she feels

We will see

[nadia]

Nice story update dete raho

Thank you dude. More updates arriving ?

[nadia]

((WARNING!! THIS SECTION OF THE STORY CONTAINS NARRATIVE THAT IS EXTREMELY DIRTY AND NAUSIATING. READ IT AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. ANYWAYS ENJOY!!))





"Your shit stinks on my dick, Sunita," Arjun said, his voice laced with a mixture of disgust and a perverse kind of amusement. 

The shitty sweetness, thick and almost overwhelming, clung to his skin, a stark reminder of her complete surrender. 

He found her shit smell both repulsive and strangely intoxicating, a potent symbol of her degradation. 

"It’s a good, almost sickeningly sweet smell, my slutty Sunita. A truly pungent aroma."

"I… I know," Sunita whispered, shame evident in her voice, her words barely audible. The admission was both a confession and a desperate plea for understanding, a recognition of her own depravity. 


"I want to be immoral. I want to throw away every shred of respectability, every ounce of dignity. I want to destroy my marriage", I couldn't believe my mom was speaking like this. 


"I want to destroy any trace of the woman I once was. I want to be a slut. I crave this depravity, this utter lack of control." 

Her words were a torrent of self-recrimination, a shocking admission of her complete moral collapse.

"And some of your shit is dripping onto the bed Sunita," Arjun continued, his tone still laced with amusement as he continued fucking her ass very hard.


"It’s running down the sides, creating a truly messy, rather… aesthetically displeasing situation." He found the mess both disgusting and oddly stimulating.



My mom glanced behind her, her eyes widening in horror as she saw her brown, glistening shit spreading across the pristine white bedsheets. 

The sight filled her with a mixture of shame and a strange, perverse fascination. "Oh Arrjunn fuck my shitty ass ooohhhh" she moaned, her voice thick with shame. 

"I'm so disgusting. I have absolutely no dignity left whatsoever. Fuck my asshole like a whore. I'm a disgrace, an utter failure as a wife, as a woman and as a mother"

"`I’ve completely and utterly lost myself. I'm a pathetic mess." She said.

Her words were a torrent of self-recrimination, a complete admission of her moral collapse, and a desperate attempt to somehow atone for her actions.

"I love how your big ass jiggle Sunita my slut," Arjun said, his voice low and gravelly, a mixture of admiration and contempt lacing his tone. 


"They're so… full of life, so responsive to my fucking. The way they tremble, the way they jiggle and yield… it's utterly captivating. It's… a truly remarkable sight." 









He watched, fascinated, as her fat ass trembled under his touch, their sensitivity a testament to his control.

"Aaahhh ooohhh My ass grew… because you kept fucking my it," My mom mumbled, her voice barely a whisper.

"My asshole… it has expanded, become so… accommodating your dick. I never imagined they could stretch so far. It's... shocking. It’s unsettling how much they've stretched." 

She was saying the truth, her asshole became so stretched and it accommodated Arjun Sir's huge dick.

"Your asshole is stretched because you're a shameless adulteress," Arjun retorted, his voice sharp.

"Your lack of self-respect is astounding. Truly impressive. You've embraced your depravity, abandoned all pretense of morality. Your transformation is remarkable” 

His words were a cruel condemnation, yet also a grudging compliment.

"How are we going to clean these hotel bedsheets?" Arjun asked, gesturing to the spreading shit of my mom with a mixture of disgust and amusement. 


The pristine white fabric was now tainted by dark, glistening shit stains of my mom, a testament to my mom's complete surrender. 


"They’re ruined. Completely and utterly soiled. This is going to be quite the mess to clean up your shit." Arjun said.

"I… I don't know," My mom stammered, her voice thick with shame, her words laced with a deep sense of remorse. "I'm so sorry. I'm so incredibly sorry. I never imagined things would escalate to this point."


"I've behaved appallingly. I've completely disgraced myself, and my asshole is so slutty to shit everywhere" Her words were a torrent of self-recrimination.


Arjun: (leaning forward) So, Sunita, are you proud of yourself for betraying your husband?

Mom: (voice barely a whisper, eyes cast downward) Yes... I’m ashamed, but I can’t help it. I love you, Arjun, and I don’t love him anymore. Fuck my shitty asshole

Arjun: (scoffing) Really? And how do you think that makes you look? If your husband saw us me fucking your asshole now with your shit all over the bed

Mom: (nervously biting her lip while moaning) I... I’d tell him that he was never the man for me, that he doesn’t deserve my loyalty. He doesn't deserve my body

Arjun: (raising an eyebrow) Oh really? You'd tell him like that? What a shameful way to treat a man who trusted you. The man who loved, you but I love how you betrayed him.

Mom: (softly) I know it’s wrong… but in my heart, I’ve already moved on from him. All I want is your dick in my ass aaaahhhh oooooohhhhh 

Arjun: (leaning closer, eyes glinting holding her shoulders) Can you honestly say you wouldn’t care if he caught us? 

Mom: (voice shaking) I... I wouldn’t care. I would tell him he’s the shameful one. Ooohh Arjunnn your dick in my asshole feels sooo good oooohhhh yeeesssss

Arjun: (rolling his eyes) You mean telling him how you've been unfaithful and tainting his name? That makes you look great, doesn’t it?

Mom: (voice filled with regret) Aaahhhh Arjun you make me feel alive, Arjun… something I’ve longed for is only you! You made me your slut and I will be your whore
 

Arjun: (mocking) My whore? Isn’t that just an excuse for being an adulteress? Your stinky shit is just the cherry on top for a beautiful mess you’ve created. 

Mom: (pleading) Please, Arjun… don’t embarrass me like this. I am already your slut, don't make me so much sluttier than this

Arjun: (leaning back, holding her fat ass) Embarrass you? You’ve embarrassed yourself enough already, having committed adultery like this with me

Mom: (pushing her ass back to meet his dick) I know… I let myself go. I’ve completely digressed from what a good wife should be, and now I’m here with you, playing this dirty game

Arjun: (grinning darkly) And enjoying yourself, aren’t you? I'm going to remove my dick from your asshole. Trust me, if I keep fucking this asshole of yours, your brown shit will end up all over the place. 

Mom: (eyes wide with fear) No! Please don’t! Any little mistake and I’ll make a mess everywhere! 




Dear friends, my mom… well, let's just say she made a mess. A truly epic mess. On the bed. I never thought I'd see the day, let alone witness it firsthand. 

It involved her own shit, and let me tell you, it was stinky. I mean, unbelievably stinky. But Arjun Sir loved her shitty smell.

I’m still trying to process it all. It’s beyond anything I could have imagined. I’m not sure how they are going to clean this up. Seriously, it's a mess and they are using a hotel.




Arjun: (smirking) Then hold your asshole tightly before I remove my dick. 

Mom: (skeptical, voice trembling) But… what if—

Arjun: (raising his voice) No more what-ifs! Do it, or I swear you’ll regret it! You slutty bitch 

Mom: (gasping, scared) Okay, alright! 

(As Arjun removes his dick, my mom tightens her asshole, desperately trying to keep her shit inside her asshole from spilling.)

Arjun: (wrinkling his nose in distaste and wiping his dick with a towel) That stinky shit? It’s almost unbearable! You should be embarrassed. I just love how stinky your shit is 

Mom: (voice wavering) Did I spill a lot already? 

Arjun: (smirking) Not much, but enough to make me want to gag. 

Mom: (voice breaking) Please, can we just finish this now? I can’t take it anymore! I feel dirty










Arjun: (shouting) You’re an adulteress! You’re fully aware of how immoral you are, yet here you are. I’m not finished fucking your asshole, so just get used to it. 

Mom: (voice pleading and filled with shame) But if I spill… it’s not just my shit! I can’t mess up the hotel bedsheets! 

Arjun: (unbothered) I couldn’t care less about the hotel's precious bedsheets. 

(He wipes his dick, collecting some of her spilled smelly shit, then pushes his dick back into her filthy shitty asshole.)

Mom: (hurt and frightened) You’re ruining my asshole; can’t you see that? OOohhhh please slowly oooohhhh!

Arjun: (sneering) Your ass? It’s mine now! 

Mom: (tearing up, shame washing over her) I can’t believe I’ve lost my morals like this. I never thought… I’d be this woman. Ooh fuck my asshole I am a slut a whore a bitch oooohhh!


Arjun: (leaning in closer, voice dark) This is you now, Sunita. A shameful woman who revels in her disgrace while getting her asshole fucked and shitting on my dick

Mom: (voice breaking) I can’t believe I succumbed to this… I hate myself for it. Aaaarrrggghhhhhh ooooooooooohhhh!

Arjun: (shouting) Then stop yelling! You don’t want anyone to hear the truth, do you? 

Mom: (murmuring) I’m sorry… I can’t believe I let it come to this. My asshole is really sore Arjun please stop for now!

Arjun: (smirking, but with an edge) You wanted this, didn’t you? This is who you are now—a woman tangled in her own shame getting her asshole fucked right?







"You’ve lost your dignity, Sunita," Arjun said, his voice cold and hard, devoid of any warmth or empathy. "You cheated on your husband. You betrayed your family, your values, everything you claimed to believe in." 

"You're a disgrace. And you've made quite a mess, haven't you?” His words were a cruel condemnation.

"Who owns that ass of yours?" Arjun asked, his voice low and intense, his gaze unwavering. 


"You… you own them," my mom whimpered, her voice trembling, her words laced with a desperate mixture of shame and submission. 

"They're yours to do with as you please. I am yours to command. My body, my dignity... everything is yours." Her complete subservience was both terrifying and pathetic.

Arjun slapped her big ass again, harder this time, his actions emphasizing his dominance. "Who owns this ass, tell me you bitch?" he repeated.


"Yours… yours," My mom repeated, her voice choked with shame and barely audible. 

"Completely and utterly yours. They are yours to command, to control, to… to spoil. I am yours, body and soul." Her complete submission was chilling. She was broken.

"I'm interested in your asshole, not your pussy Sunita, know that from today onwards," 

Arjun said, his voice sharp and dismissive. "Keep them spread wide. I want a full view. I want to see the full extent of that… elasticity and your smelly shit"

"Yes… yes ooooh ok my love," My mom moaned, obeying instantly, she reached behind and spread her asshole so that Arjun Sir could fuck her asshole so much and so rapid.

Arjun stared at the huge amount of my mom's shit coating his dick. The sheer quantity was a shock, a testament to the intensity of her response. 


"This is… excessive," he said, his voice a mixture of surprise and a perverse kind of arousal. "Truly remarkable."

"We should stop," My mom pleaded, her voice laced with panic. "I'm… I'm making a mess. I'm soiling the bedsheets. This is… uncontrollable. I’m losing all control.” 

She was acutely aware of the consequences of her actions, the tangible evidence of her degradation.







"No," Arjun refused, his voice hard and dismissive, his tone brooking no argument. 

"Continue spreading your asscheeks. I want to see how far they can stretch. I want to witness the full extent of your poop.” His refusal was both cruel and compelling, a further assertion of his dominance.



"The whole room smells like your shit Sunita, your smelly shit," Arjun commented, his voice laced with a strange mixture of disgust and fascination. 

My mom hung her head, her shame evident in her moaning. "I… I know," she whispered, her voice thick with self-loathing. 


"I can't… I can't control it. My asshole are so… sensitive, so… over-stimulated. It's a complete loss of control. That's why my shit is falling on the bed, staining the bedsheets."

"I'm utterly and completely out of control." Her words were a mixture of shame and a desperate attempt at explanation, a justification for her utter loss of self-control.


"You're making such a mess, you disgusting slut, you good for nothing whore" Arjun sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. 


"Look at yourself, you pathetic excuse for a wife. You're nothing but a cheap, overripe piece of whore, spilling your shit everywhere and on my dick." 

His words were deliberately cruel, designed to amplify my mom's shame and degrade her further. He enjoyed her humiliation and continued sodomizing her asshole.

"I… I can’t help it," my mom whimpered, her voice choked with shame and tears. 

"It’s… it’s too much. I'm… I'm so ashamed. I’m a worthless piece of trash. I am your slut my love fuck my asshole" She was completely overwhelmed by a torrent of self-loathing. 


Her words were desperate, a pathetic attempt to find some semblance of control amidst the chaos.

"Too much? You pathetic excuse for a woman," Arjun spat, his words like blows to her already battered spirit. "You're a disgusting, shameless whore. You've betrayed your husband, your family, everything you ever claimed to believe in. You're a disgrace." He took a perverse pleasure in her suffering, relishing her degradation.



"I… I need to… to…" my mom stammered, her voice barely audible amidst her moans. 

"I need… I need to cum." The words were a desperate plea, a humiliating confession of her complete loss of control.

"Oh, you need to cum you slut?" Arjun asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, let's see how much of that stinky shit you can spill all over this bed, you filthy little whore."

"Let's see how much you can disgrace yourself Sunita, you are such a bitch, a filthy stinky bitch" He continued to fuck her asshole which was now loose, pushing her to the limit. 



Arjun: (fucking her deeper in her asshole) Sunita, I’ve been I want to cum in your asshole 

Mom: (a rush of excitement and shame flooding her) Then... please, fill my shitty asshole with that holy sperms of yours, Arjun.

Arjun: (raising an eyebrow, incredulity lacing his voice) What? Did you really just say that? A married woman asking for something like that? You’ve really lost it.

Mom: (looking down, cheeks flushed and moaning) Aaahhh ooooohhhh! I know it sounds wrong… but I’m so morally spoiled that I just can’t help myself anymore.

Arjun: (slapping her ass hard) So, you’re admitting that you’re a disgrace and a whore, a prostitute, my own prostitute? How delightful. 

Mom: (voice trembling) I can’t deny it, I am whore and your own bitch. I know I sound shameful, but I want you to fill my asshole with that holy sperm. 

Arjun: (snorting with laughter) You actually want me to do that? Who do you think you are, begging for something so depraved? 

Mom: (her voice barely above a whisper) Please… I crave it. I’ve gone too far to turn back now. You have made my asshole so much loose

Arjun: (smiling) What kind of bitch wife begs for something like this? It’s pathetic. You are my slut

Mom: (moaning) Aaahh yes yes oooohhhh! I know… but it’s all I want right now, despite how shameful it is.

Arjun: (grinning wickedly) A married woman begging for another man's sperm in her asshole? You’ve officially reached a new low, and it’s entertaining. 

Mom: (in a shaky voice) I know it’s disgraceful, but I want you to fill it. I need to feel that rush, no matter how humiliating it is. I am a whore, I am not religious anymore, fuck my ass Arjun 

Arjun: (smirking, enjoying this) So you’ve accepted your shameful fate? You actually embrace it? 




Mom: (nodding, feeling vulnerable) Yes, I have. I’ve lost all dignity. Aaahhh oooooohh aaaaaaaaahhh yeessssssssss

Arjun: (mockingly) How poetic! Look at you, a full-blown disgrace, and loving every moment of it! While shitting on my dick as I fuck your smelly asshole

Mom: (voice filled with desperation) I crave it so much… I am in love with that huge dick of yours in my asshole, it feels soo exciting. 

Arjun: (mocking her yearning) You want to be filled? God, it’s hilarious how far you’ve fallen! 

Mom: (her heart racing, eyes filled with a mix of hope and shame) Yes, I’m begging you! Please… I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I need it. 

Arjun: (scoffing) You really are something else, Sunita. Who would’ve thought a woman like you could sink so low and still want more?

Mom: (voice breaking) I know how slutty this I am. Please, I feel like I’m drowning in my own shame… 

Arjun: (leaning in closer to her ear, a taunt in his voice) You’re practically begging for your own humiliation. How does it feel knowing you’ve become my whore woman?

Mom: (eyes glazed with tears) I hate myself for it, but I want it anyway. Please… just do it, Arjun. Fill me up, deposit your warm cum inside and deeper in my asshole ooooooooohhhhh 

Arjun: (smirking, clearly enjoying her distress) You’ve lost all sense of decency, haven’t you? A shameful woman like you begs for what most would shun and cheating on your husband

Mom: (Moaning softly) Yes… I’m begging for it. Fill my asshole with the holy sperm, your holy sperm oh ooh aaahhhhh! I need it!

Arjun: (laughing darkly) Alright, I’ll give you what you’re asking for, but remember, this is only going to deepen your disgrace. 




Then Arjun fucked her so hard and his strokes continued from hard to rapid and finally  he cummed inside her asshole.

"AAaaaarrgghh oooooh Sunitaaaaa!! I Cummiiinngg you whore!!! There you go, you filthy little bitch," Arjun sneered, his voice filled with disdain. 


"Another messy climax. Another demonstration of your utter worthlessness." He continued to cum inside her asshole, finding perverse pleasure in her degradation and shame. 

"You're so pathetic. You're such a mess you slutty Sunita, my whorish queen"

"I… I'm so dirty," My mom moaned, her voice thick with shame and tears. "I'm so… so unholy. I'm a disgusting whore." 




"Unholy? You're far worse than unholy," Arjun hissed, his words a cruel and deliberate insult. "You're a disgrace. And look at the mess you've made. You're a walking, talking, shit-soaked disaster." 

He relished her misery. My mom moans intensified, her ass shaking uncontrollably. She felt utterly broken, utterly degraded. She was a pathetic mess. The shame was almost too much to bear.

"I shitted on the bed oooh nooo... it's all over the bed," My mom moaned whispered, her voice barely audible. She was acutely aware of the mess she'd made, the physical manifestation of her humiliation. 




The sheer amount of shit was so nice looking, an inescapable testament to her degradation. The thought of the cleanup filled her with despair.

"Yes, it is," Arjun said, his voice a cold purr. "And it smells just as disgusting as you. You're a walking, talking slut. I wonder how much bleach it's going to take to clean up this mess you’ve made." 

He was relishing her misery and the consequences of her actions.

I watched, excited, as my mom's shit continued to spread, creating a sticky, glistening mess across the bedsheets. The pungent odor filled the room

The thought of cleaning this mess filled me with revulsion. 

I wondered how anyone could ever possibly clean up this horrific, sticky shitty mess. The extent of my mom's humiliation was overwhelming, a scene seared into my memory.



Arjun's cock remained firmly planted in my mom's asshole, he didn't move at all, completely coated in the sticky, dark shit of my mom.

I also reached my climax, my own cumming adding to the already chaotic real porn I was watching of my mom. 

The intensity of the sensations was overwhelming; a mixture of pure physical pleasure and profound unease. 


"It's... it's warm, I can feel it in my asshole, OOhh your cum makes my the inside of my asshole very ticklish Arjun" 


My mother whispered, her voice barely audible, thick with shame and a perverse kind of excitement. 


The heat of Arjun's semen was seeping into her asshole, a sensation that was both intensely violating and strangely arousing. It was a violation she both craved and abhorred simultaneously.

"Can you feel it, Sunita?" Arjun asked, his voice low and gravelly, a smirk playing on his lips. 


"Yes," she replied, her voice a mere tremor, barely audible above her ragged breathing. 


Arjun deliberately pushed his dick again deeper into my mother’s asshole, ensuring that every last drop of his semen was absorbed, fully saturating her filthy asshole. 


He wanted her to be completely consumed by his fluids, overwhelmed by the physical evidence of his dominance. He relished her complete and utter helplessness.


"I think… I think I'm going to faint," my mother gasped, her voice strained, her body trembling. 







"That's your problem you slut," Arjun responded, his voice dismissive and cruel. He showed no concern, his focus remained solely on his own satisfaction and her humiliation. 


I felt so good seeing this. He reveled in her vulnerability, in her utter dependence on him.

"Why is it my problem?" my mother asked, she was still in doggystyle, Arjun's dick still deep inside her asshole after he cummed in it.



She was trying to understand his complete lack of empathy, his utter disregard for her feelings. She wanted answers, explanations for his heartlessness.

"Because you're a weak, pathetic little whore, Sunita," Arjun retorted, his voice dripping with scorn.

"I… I like it when you talk to me like that," my mother confessed, her voice a barely audible whisper. The humiliation, the pain, the strange arousal.




"I'm going to pull my dick out now," Arjun announced, his voice low and deliberate. 


"Be careful," my mother pleaded, her voice trembling. She was terrified of spilling the mixture of her smelly shit and his semen, of creating a larger mess, a more visible testament to her humiliation. 


The fear was intense; she desperately wanted to avoid further soiling herself.

Arjun slowly withdrew his dick from her asshole. As he did so, a long, wet fart escaped from my mother, a startling sound that shattered the tense silence. 

Also a few mixture of her dark brown shit and Arjun's semen flowed out of her gaping asshole. It was so good to see this mess.

The sound of her fart was loud and unexpectedly pungent, filling the air with an overwhelmingly nice aroma. The smell was unbelievably strong and undeniably disgusting.


Her stinky farts sounded like, "PPPPPPPRRRRRRRRR FFFFFTTT PPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRR GGGHBBBBRRRRRRR POPPP PPPOOPP PPPRRR POPOOPOPOOPOP!! BBBRRRRR"







"I'm glad you farted on my dick and made a mess," Arjun said, a genuine smile spreading across his face. 


"Why are you happy?" my mother asked, her voice laced with a mixture of embarrassment and playful defiance. 


"Because it smells amazing Sunita, your shit and your farts smells so stinky and so nice," Arjun replied, his eyes twinkling. 


"It's... earthy. It's perfectly pungent. It's you my queen, I love it" He found a strange, bizzare satisfaction in her uninhibited, uncontrolled release. 


The mix of her shit and the scent of her farts was intoxicating to him.



"Did you do that on purpose my love?" Arjun asked, leaning closer, his eyes intent on hers. He was genuinely curious; he wanted to know if she had been consciously trying to please him.

My mom blushed crimson, unable to meet his gaze. She struggled to form a response. The shame was overwhelming.

"Answer me, Sunita," Arjun pressed gently, his voice dropping to a low murmur. He was enjoying her discomfort and the power he wielded over her.

"Y-yes," she finally stammered out, her voice barely audible. 


She confessed, unable to hide her shame or her strange sense of satisfaction. The admission was a surrender, a complete relinquishing of her dignity.

Arjun leaned in and kissed her lips, his mouth lingering on hers. The kiss was both passionate and domineering.


"Do you like the smell of my farts and my shit?" she asked after breaking the kiss, her voice surprisingly playful. She was teasing him, testing the boundaries of his preferences.

"I love it," Arjun replied, his voice thick with desire. "It's so lovely. It's perfectly pungent it smells like vanilla" He was utterly captivated.



"You dirty bastard," my mother said.

"I did it on purpose," my mother continued, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I knew you’d love it." She embraced the shame, perversely enjoying his reaction to her rebellious act. 


"You little slut, you dirty bitchy queen," Arjun chuckled. He found her defiance both endearing and arousing. He was completely captivated by her.

My mother,got up and scrambled to the bathroom, desperate to clean herself before the mess spread any further. 


She wanted to escape the intense humiliation and the lingering scents of her shit. 


"Stop running and walk slowly," Arjun called out, his voice sharp and urgent. "You'll spill your shit everywhere!" He was concerned not with her feelings, but with preserving the evidence of his dominance.






"I know! I'm trying to tighten my asshole," she replied, already hurrying towards the bathroom. She desperately wanted to prevent any further soiling of the bed and floor.


"You stinky woman," Arjun muttered, watching her go. He didn't even consider cleaning himself; the mess was a trophy, a testament to his conquest. He was completely unconcerned about hygiene.






He sat on the bed, his dick still heavily coated in my mother’s poop, some of it splattered across the sheets. He showed no interest in cleaning himself, just like he did previously.


I couldn't believe how utterly disgusting this man was. His casual disregard for hygiene, his acceptance of being covered in my mother’s very stinky poop – it was shocking. 

Yet, I found a strange excitement in his depravity, his utter lack of shame. It was both revolting and strangely exciting because he taught me that behavior and I did it with Priya.





Dear friends, my mother wasn't the woman I knew. She had transformed into a degraded adulteress, a dirty woman who shits on the bed after rough anal fuck by Arjun, completely at the mercy of this man's cruel desires. 


She had been stripped bare, both literally and metaphorically. She was now completely Arjun's slut. The transformation was so good and strangely captivating.



image uploading site




The next update has a quite interesting plot! Don't you dare miss it!!! Don't you!

[nadia]

Waiting for next update

update coming soon

[nadia]

Hello, guys, hope you are all doing fine. I have been away for a while but I am back with a banger update. 

The past stories I wasn't updating because i wasn't getting enough replies or comments.

But here is the continuation, make sure you comment guys so that i can know if you guys like it or not

















After that wild night at the hotel, where I hid and watched Arjun Sir take control of my mom Sunita in a way that still gets my heart racing, things started to change big time. I couldn’t stop thinking about how Arjun Sir had gone hard on her asshole, pushing until her brown shit came out, covering his dick and the bed in that messy, smelly stuff. The way she moaned, all ashamed but loving it, gave me this weird thrill. 

I liked it because it felt like watching my mom break apart her good image, turning into someone dirty right in front of me, and it made me feel strong, like I was part of messing up her life with my dad Arvind. 


It was super wrong, seeing her asshole stretch out, shit leaking as she begged for more, the sheets turning dark with the sticky mess, the air heavy with that raw, earthy stench. I got a kick out of the shame and mess of it all, the way her body betrayed her under his relentless thrusts. 


Little did I know, I’d soon feel that same rush of breaking something, but this time with my friend Rahul and his girlfriend Priya.


Rahul and I had been close since college, always joking and sharing stuff, but it all went bad when Priya came into the picture. She was gorgeous, with a body that caught everyone’s eye—curvy hips, a soft laugh, and a smile that lit up everything—and being Arjun Sir’s daughter added a strange twist since he was already deep in my mom’s life. 


Rahul started dating her about a year ago, and at first, I acted fine, but jealousy started eating at me inside. 


I didn’t like him being with her; she seemed too good for him, or at least that’s what I kept telling myself as I watched them hold hands. Deep down, I wanted Priya for me, imagining her close to me the way my mom was with Arjun Sir, her voice trembling with that same mix of shame and desire. 



I fucked Priya and Rahul went quiet on her, blocking her calls and ignoring her messages. He didn’t want to talk to Priya at all, and it wasn’t just madnessthere was this deep, aching hurt in his eyes when I saw him at college the next day. 






Rahul was the kind of guy who showed his feelings, treating Priya like a princess with sweet dates—picnics by the lake, little gifts like handmade bracelets—and surprises like showing up with her favorite snacks. But when she picked me, it broke him. 

He saw it as the worst kind of betrayal, not just from her but from me, his best friend who he’d trusted with everything. Why didn’t he want to talk to her? Because every word from her would bring back the image of her choosing me, the sting of knowing I’d taken what he thought was his alone. 



And me? I felt good wrecking their relationship, this strange happiness bubbling up like when I watched Arjun Sir ruin my mom’s asshole. I was jealous of Rahul with Priya, seeing them laugh together, his arm around her waist, while I stood on the sidelines, my chest tight with envy. Taking her felt like getting back at him, like winning a prize that should’ve been mine all along. 


The next day, I woke up wanting to push it further. I decided to surprise Rahul and show him proof of what happened with Priya. Why? Because the jealousy wasn’t gone yet; I wanted to see him hurt, to watch him break like my mom did under Arjun Sir’s dick, shit oozing out as she cried in shame, her voice cracking with every thrust. 


When I got there, it was later that evening, the street quiet with the sun dipping low, painting the houses in warm hues. Their house was a simple twostory with a nice garden out front, usually kept tidy by Jaya, Rahul’s mom and my mom’s friend, with flower beds blooming and the grass neatly trimmed. 


But today, something felt off right away. As I parked my bike near the gate, I saw a brand new car in the driveway—a shiny black sedan with dark tinted windows and cool, gleaming rims that looked way too fancy for this neighborhood. Rahul didn’t have a car—he always relied on his old bike or walked with me to college—so this wasn’t his. 







It wasn’t Aarav’s regular SUV either.
I shook it off for a moment and went to the main door, knocking hard with my fist, the sound echoing in the stillness. No one answered. I knocked again, louder this time, waiting a few seconds, but still nothing. 


The door was locked tight, which was weird because Jaya was almost always home, busy with chores or the smell of her cooking wafting out—roti or curry, something warm and inviting. Why was it locked? Maybe they were out, or Rahul was inside, upset and ignoring everyone after the breakup, hiding in his room with the curtains drawn. 



I rang the doorbell, hearing its chime ring inside, a soft ding-dong that faded into silence. Just as I turned to leave, frustrated but plotting my next move, I heard footsteps behind me, steady and deliberate on the pavement.


I turned and saw Aarav, Rahul’s dad, the husband of Jaya, walking up with a suitcase in one hand and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He looked tired, his shirt slightly wrinkled from the journey, but there was a happy glint in his eyes, surprised to see me standing there. 


He’d been on a oneweek business trip, something about a work meeting in another city, and now he was back earlier than expected, his shoes scuffing the path as he approached. 


My stomach flipped—I was shocked and confused because Uncle Aarav showing up threw me off completely. If he found out why I was really there, to show his son a video that would hurt him, it could ruin everything—my friendship with the family, my reputation, all of it. 


Plus, with that strange car and the locked door, things felt unpredictable, like I’d walked into a puzzle I didn’t understand. I put on a smile, trying to act normal, my hands slipping into my pockets to hide the nervous shake.


“Hey, Uncle Aarav! Good to see you back,” I said, waving with a forced cheerfulness, my voice a little too loud in the quiet evening.
“Rajeev! What a nice surprise, my boy! Didn’t think I’d run into you here like this. How’s it going, kid? Keeping out of trouble, I hope?” 


Aarav answered, dropping his suitcase with a heavy thud and the duffel bag with a softer thump, then pulling me into a quick, warm hug. He smelled like plane air, that stale recycled scent mixed with a bit of cologne that had faded during the trip.
“I’m okay, just dealing with college stuff, you know, the usual grind. 


You look like you had a busy trip—did it go well?” I said, glancing at his bags, noticing the slight sag in his shoulders from carrying them.








“Oh, it was a long one, let me tell you. The meeting dragged on, but it ended early, so I caught the first flight back. Missed home, missed Jayas cooking—her dal and rice, you know how good it is. What brings you by? Looking for Rahul, maybe?” he laughed, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, his face lighting up at the thought of his wife’s food.


“Yeah, sort of. We had a fight recently, and I wanted to sort it out with him, you know, clear the air and get things back to normal,” I said, keeping it simple and vague, my mind racing to avoid spilling the real reason—the video that could blow everything up.
Aarav nodded like he understood, his eyes softening with that fatherly look. 


“Ah, friend troubles, huh? I remember those days with my buddies. Come in with me, no need to stand out here in this heat—it’s getting sticky. Grab a bag if you can, they’re heavier than they look after lugging them through the airport.”


“Sure thing, Uncle,” I said, stepping forward to pick up the duffel bag. It was heavy, the straps digging into my shoulder, probably stuffed with clothes, souvenirs, or work papers from his trip, the fabric worn but sturdy.


image hosting websites


Aarav led the way to the door, fumbling with his keys as we walked, the metal clinking softly in his hand. “So, how’s college treating you these days? Still keeping up with those grades, or are you slacking off a bit now that I’m not around to check?” he asked, his tone light and teasing as he shifted the suitcase to his other hand, the wheels scbanging lightly on the path.


“It’s okay, just a lot of homework lately, especially math—it’s killing me. But I’m managing, trying to stay on top of it,” I replied, trying to sound casual while my mind raced with worry. 


I hoped Rahul wasn’t home, or he might see me with that video and tell his dad Aarav how perverted I’d been, exposing my plan to hurt his son. The thought made my palms sweat.


“Good to hear, good to hear. Rahul’s been a bit off lately too—probably college stress, or maybe something else. Kids these days, always something on their minds,” Aarav said, finally pulling out his keyring from his pocket, the keys jingling as he sorted through them. 


“Picked up some spices from the trip—cinnamon and cardamom—thought Jaya might like them for her cooking. She’s always experimenting in the kitchen.”


“That sounds cool, Uncle. She’ll love that—her food’s already amazing, so this will make it even better,” I said, forcing a smile to hide the tension building inside. 


My heart was pounding, hoping Rahul wasn’t inside. If he caught me with that video, he’d tell Aarav everything, and I’d lose all respect in this house. I prayed he was out, maybe with friends or at the library, anywhere but here to witness my scheme.
Aarav slid the key into the lock, turning it with a soft click that broke the evening silence. 


“Strange, no one’s answering. Jaya’s usually around by now, humming to herself or calling us in for dinner. Wonder what’s going on,” he muttered, pushing the door open with a gentle nudge. I stepped in behind him, my pulse quickening as the cool air of the house hit me.


The place felt off right away—messy, not like the neat, welcoming home I knew. There was a glass tumbler shattered on the floor near the couch, water pooled around it like someone had knocked it over in a hurry, and cushions were tossed haphazardly, one hanging half-off the seat. Why was it like this? Jaya was always tidy, her house a reflection of her careful nature, with everything in its place—now it looked like a whirlwind had passed through.



“Wow, this is weird. Looks like a storm hit or something,” I said, my voice tinged with surprise as I took in the chaos, the glass glinting under the dim living room light.


Aarav frowned, setting his suitcase down with a soft thud and the duffel bag beside it, his brow furrowing deeply. “Yeah, you’re right. Jaya never leaves the house like this—it’s always spotless, every cushion fluffed, every surface dusted. Something’s definitely up here. Hold on a second—do you smell that?” He tilted his head toward the kitchen, his nose wrinkling as he sniffed the air.


I took a deeper breath and caught it—a strong, acrid burning smell, like something was cooking too hard, the scent sharp and stinging my nostrils. “Yeah, it’s strong. Smells like something’s burning—maybe food left on the stove?”


“Damn it, she must’ve left something on the stove and forgotten about it,” Aarav said, his voice rising with concern as he rushed toward the kitchen, his shoes crunching on the glass he didn’t bother to avoid. 

He reached the stove and turned off the burner with a quick twist, where a pot of rice was boiling over, steam hissing and escaping in thick clouds, the bottom scorched black and smoking faintly. “This could’ve started a fire if it went on much longer. She’s never this careless—always so on top of things in here.”


“Maybe Aunty Jaya ran out to grab something with Rahul? Like, maybe she needed an ingredient and took him along?” I suggested, trying to make sense of it, my eyes still on the ruined pot, the rice sticking to the sides in a burnt mess.


“Maybe, yeah, that could be it,” Aarav said, scratching his head as he stared at the stove, the steam slowly dissipating. “But this mess… it’s not like her at all. Let’s check around and see if we can figure this out.” 


We moved back to the living room, and that’s when I saw it—a bra hanging over the arm of the couch, light blue with a lacy trim, unmistakably Jaya’s by the size and style. My eyes widened, but I kept my mouth shut as we kept going. 


Then I spotted a man’s shirt on the floor, crumpled near the coffee table, a pair of dark trousers next to it, a leather belt coiled like a snake, a tie dbangd over a chair, and a pair of polished shoes abandoned by the hallway. 


Jaya’s underwear was next, a pair of black panties crumpled near the TV stand, the fabric twisted as if tossed aside. It hit me like a punch—someone had been here, and it looked like they were making out, maybe more, the evidence scattered like a trail of secrets.

I secretly took Jaya's underwear and i smelled them, ooooh the smell was so nice, it smelled as if it was just worn and removed few minutes ago.


“What the hell happened here, Rajeev? Any ideas what could’ve caused all this?” Aarav asked, his voice tight with confusion as he bent to pick up the shirt, holding it like it was foreign to him.


“I… I don’t know, Uncle. Looks like someone was in a real hurry, maybe dropped everything and ran out,” I said, playing dumb, my mind racing. 


I knew our college principal, Gaurav, had been with Jaya weeks ago—I’d overheard my mom mention it in a hushed conversation—but I didn’t recognize that car outside. 


Aarav didn’t know, and I wasn’t about to tell him, not yet, not when he looked so lost.
Before he could respond, a loud bang came from the master bedroom, a sharp crack like something heavy hitting the wall, followed by a woman’s moan


“Aaahh oohh!”—long and drawn out, vibrating through the house. My heart skipped a beat, a jolt of adrenaline shooting through me. Aarav’s head snapped toward the sound, his body tensing like he’d been stung.



“Did you hear that, Rajeev? That sounded like… like someone moaning,” he asked, his eyes wide, searching mine for confirmation, his voice trembling slightly at the edges.


“Uh, maybe it was a cat or something outside? Could’ve been the wind or a stray animal making noise?” I lied, my throat dry, knowing full well what it was. 


I’d heard Jaya moan like that before when Arjun Sir was here, her voice echoing through the walls, but I kept it to myself. Aarav was a good man, always kind to me, bringing me snacks when I visited, helping with my bike once, and I didn’t want to break his heart with the truth I suspected.


“Come with me, Rajeev. I need to check what’s going on back there—I can’t just ignore that,” he said, stepping toward the hallway with determination, his shoulders squared despite the uncertainty in his eyes.


“It’s probably nothing, Uncle. Just a weird sound, maybe a neighbor’s TV or something. We don’t need to—” I tried, my voice faltering, but he was set on it, his footsteps firm on the hardwood floor. 


As we walked, I noticed more signs—a tie hanging off the banister like it had been yanked off in a hurry, a woman’s earring glinting on the steps, a single drop of something dark that could’ve been wine. 


The moans grew louder—“Ooh yess, ooh baby, ohhh please don’t stop!”—and I knew Jaya was with someone, her voice rising and falling with each breath. Today could get ugly, and I didn’t want to be part of it, but I couldn’t back out now, not with Aarav leading the way.


We neared the bedroom, the door slightly ajar, a sliver of light spilling out into the dim hallway. A bad smell hit us—body odor, thick and stale, mixed with something musky, like sweat and intimacy left to linger. 


The moans grew clearer, richer—“Ooh yess, ooh baby, yess pound me harder, make me forget everything!” Jaya’s voice, no doubt, smooth and desperate, stretching out each word. She added, “Forget that useless husband of mine, he’s never made me feel like this—ohh, keep going, deeper!” not knowing Aarav was right there, just steps away.






To be continued....

Who was fucking Jaya?????

Stay tuned to know

[nadia]

This is interesting.. many possibilities.

 yes this story has thousands of sub-plots, stay tuned !!

[nadia]

Aarav’s hands shook as he pushed the door open wider, the hinges creaking softly, his fingers trembling against the wood. The room was a wreck—sheets tangled into a knot at the foot of the bed, clothes strewn across the floor, a lamp knocked over on the nightstand, a clear sign of what was happening, the air heavy with the scent of their passion.


I peeked in and saw a man lying on the bed, his face hidden by Jaya's back and shoulder, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, and Jaya riding him, her back to us, her skin glistening with sweat. Her big buttocks bounced up and down with a rhythmic slap, the man’s hands gripping her ass tight, his fingers sinking into her flesh as she moved. 





I looked at Aarav—his face was pale, his eyes wide with shock and a deep, aching hurt, like someone had stabbed him in the chest. He’d been working hard, traveling for a week, sleeping on planes and in cheap hotel rooms, only to come home to this betrayal unfolding before him orchestrated by non other than his wife, the one he trusted the most. 


I felt a twisted joy watching Aarav being cheated on because I myself was a pervert, I loved to see families break. I loved to see sex of my mom and Arjun Sir, the chaos and shame stirring something dark in me, but Aarav’s sadness hit me too, a heavy weight in the room.




I stifled a laugh, the sound catching in my throat, enjoying the view—Jaya’s ass shaking with each thrust, the man’s hands digging in, her hair whipping as she rode him harder. It was wrong, a sick thrill coursing through me, but the chaos felt good, a mirror to the night with my mom.

But who is this man? Who is he? Is he Gaurav our idiotic principal who I don't like? 


Aarav stood frozen, tears welling up in his eyes, his body shaking as the reality sank in, the love he’d built with Jaya crumbling in front of him. The man groaned, a low rumble, and Jaya moaned louder, “Ooh fuck me, yes, harder, baby, make me scream—forget that weak man I married, he’s nothing compared to you!” oblivious to us. 





Dear friends, the fact is that Jaya didn't know that Aarav was coming this week or today.




They didn’t know we were there because the door was half-open, their focus locked in their own world, the bed creaking under their weight, the room a testament to their abandon.



Aarav stood there frozen in the doorway, his body rigid like a statue carved from shock, his eyes locked on the scene unfolding before him. He didn't move an inch, didn't utter a word at first, just continued watching his wife Jaya as she rode the man with abandon, her hips grinding down in a steady rhythm that filled the room with the wet sounds of their bodies colliding. 


The air was thick with the musky scent of sweat and sex, and I could see the way Aarav's chest rose and fell unevenly, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He was transfixed, unable to tear his gaze away, perhaps hoping it was all a nightmare he could blink out of existence.





Jaya's moans echoed through the room, her voice husky and unrestrained. "Oh yes, oh my god, that feels so good, keep thrusting up into me like that," she gasped, her head thrown back, hair cascading down her back in sweaty strands. The man beneath her groaned in response, his hands squeezing her ass cheeks firmly as he bucked his hips upward to meet her movements.


"Ride me harder, you filthy slut," he commanded, his voice low and gravelly, laced with dominance. "Show me how much you love cheating on that pathetic husband of yours, betraying him behind his back like the whore you are."


Jaya didn't hesitate, her response coming out in a breathless rush, without a hint of shame in her tone. "Yes, yes, I'm your slut, fuck me harder, I love it, I love sneaking around and getting fucked like this, it makes me so wet knowing I'm being such a bad wife." 


upload png


She ground down harder, her buttocks slapping against his thighs, her words spilling out like she was reveling in the forbidden thrill. She replied like a slut without shame because in that moment, lost in the heat of passion, the excitement of the affair had consumed her completely, making her forget the consequences, the thrill of the risk turning her into someone who craved the degradation as much as the pleasure.


The man chuckled darkly, his fingers digging deeper into her flesh. "That's right, keep bouncing on this dick, you cheating bitch, tell me how much better I am than that loser you're married to, how you've been spreading your legs for me while he works not knowing his wife my is bitch and whore."


"Oh, you're so much better, so much bigger, you make me cum like he never could," Jaya moaned back, her voice rising in pitch as she picked up speed, her body glistening with sweat. "Fuck me, own me, I don't care about him anymore, just keep pounding my pussy like the slut I am." 


She was fully immersed, her shameless replies fueled by the adrenaline of the secret, the way the affair made her feel alive and desired in ways her marriage no longer did.


All the while, I gazed at Aarav, taking in the pure sadness etched across his face, the way his eyes glistened with unshed tears, his mouth slightly open in disbelief. 


It was a deep, heartbreaking sadness that made my chest tighten a little, even as I felt that twisted thrill bubbling inside me. I gazed at just that sadness because it was so raw, so vulnerable—Aarav had always been the steady, kind father figure, the man who fixed things around the house and smiled warmly at family dinners, and now here he was, witnessing the collapse of his world, his trust shattered in real time. 


The sadness was in the way his shoulders slumped forward, as if the weight of betrayal was physically pressing down on him, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, fingers trembling slightly. It explained why he was shaking—he'd come home expecting warmth, a hug from his wife, maybe a hot meal, but instead found this ultimate humiliation, his heart breaking piece by piece with every moan from Jaya's lips.


In his right hand, Aarav was holding a glass of water, the clear liquid sloshing slightly as his grip wavered. I think he must have grabbed it from the kitchen earlier.


I think after turning off the stove, perhaps to steady his nerves or quench the sudden dryness in his throat from the shock of the messy house. The glass was simple, one of those everyday tumblers from their set, half-filled with tap water, tiny bubbles clinging to the sides. 


But as he watched, his hand started shaking more violently, the sadness overwhelming him, his fingers losing their hold. The glass slipped from his grasp, tumbling to the floor in what felt like slow motion, hitting the hardwood with a sharp crack that echoed through the room. 







It shattered on the ground, shards scattering in all directions like broken ice, the water splashing out in a small puddle that soaked into the rug. His hands were shaking because the betrayal had hit him like a physical blow, his body reacting to the emotional pain, the tremors a sign of his world crumbling, the trust he'd built over years exploding into fragments just like that glass.


The sound of the shattering glass cut through the moans like a knife, and suddenly, the man stopped thrusting, his body going still beneath Jaya. She froze mid-motion, her eyes widening in alarm as she whipped her head around to look behind her, her hair flipping over her shoulder in a messy arc. 


The expression on her face shifted from ecstasy to pure horror in an instant, her mouth forming a perfect form of surprise, her cheeks flushing not from pleasure now, but from the sudden rush of embarrassment and fear that her husband is witnessing.


"Aarav! Oh my god, Aarav, what are you doing here?" Jaya exclaimed, her voice high-pitched and panicked, the words tumbling out as she scrambled off the man's dick in a frantic motion, her body sliding away with a wet pop. 


She immediately jumped from Gaurav's big dick, which was bigger that Aarav, I think, her legs wobbling slightly as she landed on the bed, then sat next to Gaurav, yanking the blanket up to cover her naked body, clutching it to her chest like a shield, the fabric bunching up around her thighs.


"Aarav, please, listen to me, this isn't what it looks like," Jaya started, her words rushing out in a desperate stream. "I didn't expect you to be home so soon, your trip was supposed to last longer, I thought you were coming back next week. Oh god, I'm so sorry, it was a mistake, a terrible mistake, I got carried away, please forgive me."


Gaurav, the bastard principal of our college that I hate, didn't move, just lay there on the bed, his chest heaving from the exertion, but otherwise relaxed, like he owned the place, like he was Jaya's husband instead of the intruder in this marriage. 


Now that Jaya had shifted, I got to see him clearly—it was none other than Gaurav, our college principal, his face familiar from assemblies and parent meetings, now twisted in a smug expression. 


He was her lover, the one I'd heard about, and I thought they might have planned this together, coordinating their schedules so Aarav would be away, maybe texting each other about the perfect time to meet.

This is the second time I am seeing Gaurav fucking Jaya.


Jaya continued her apologies, her voice cracking as she pleaded. "Aarav, honey, please, it was just one time, a slip-up, I swear, I love you, I don't know what came over me. And Rajeev, oh god, Rajeev, what are you doing here? You shouldn't see this, please, just go outside, this is between us adults."


Gaurav, still lounging on the bed without a care, turned to Jaya with a raised eyebrow. "Wait a minute, Jaya, you told me your husband wouldn't be back until next month, that we had all the time in the world. What happened to that plan?"


Jaya glanced at Gaurav nervously, her hands twisting the blanket. "Gaurav, shh, not now, please. I must have misread his schedule, or maybe he came early, I don't know, but this wasn't supposed to happen like this. Just stay quiet for a second."


Aarav finally found his voice, his eyes wet with tears, one rolling slowly down his cheek, tracing a path over his stubbled skin. "Jaya, how could you do this to me? After all these years, all the promises we made, how could you betray me like this, right in our own bed?"


"Aarav, please, it was a mistake, I swear, I got weak, but it doesn't mean anything, I still love you," Jaya begged, her words frantic, her eyes darting between him and me.


"And with him? Gaurav our son's college principal? How long has this been going on? Were you laughing at me behind my back while I was away working?" Aarav asked, his voice breaking, more tears welling up.


"No, no, it just happened, I promise, it was stupid, please forgive me, we can work through this," Jaya panicked, her excuses frivolous, jumping from one to the next. "Rajeev, go, please, this is private."


Aarav shook his head, his voice firm despite the tears. "No, Rajeev stays, he should see what kind of woman you really are, the kind who cheats without a second thought."


Jaya's eyes widened. "Aarav, don't say that, please, I'm begging you. I am your good and faithful wife"

"Shut up Jaya! Does our son Rahul know about this? Our son, does he know about your bad behavior, sneaking around like this?" Aarav demanded, his tone sharp, the hurt turning to anger.


"No, of course not, Rahul doesn't know anything, please don't tell him, he'd be devastated," Jaya answered hastily, her face paling at the thought.
Aarav pressed on, his voice rising. "Devastated? Like I am right now? You think about him now, but not when you were here with this man? What kind of mother are you?"


Jaya sobbed, her shoulders shaking. "I'm a good mother, Aarav, this doesn't change that, it was just a lapse in judgment, please, let's talk about it calmly."


"How many times, Jaya? How many times have you done this while I was gone, trusting you?" Aarav asked, his tears flowing freely now.
"Only a few, I swear, but it means nothing, you're the one I want," Jaya pleaded, reaching out a hand toward him.


"And him? Sitting there like he owns the place? Who does he think he is?" Aarav spat, glaring at Gaurav.
Gaurav, still on the bed, reached casually for a glass of water on the nearby table, picking it up and taking a slow sip, the liquid glugging down his throat as if he were at a casual lunch. 


Gaurav's behavior was weird despite being caught with another man's wife because he seemed utterly unphased, perhaps arrogant from his position of power as principal, or maybe he thrived on the drama, the control it gave him in this chaotic moment.


Jaya glanced at him, whispering, "Gaurav, stop, not now."

But Gaurav ignored her, his hand sliding over to touch Jaya's thigh under the blanket, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her skin even as Aarav watched, his eyes locked on Aarav's with a challenging glint.


Jaya reacted by signaling him to stop, her free hand pushing his away discreetly, her eyes pleading with him. "Gaurav, please, don't make this worse."
Gaurav smirked, leaning back against the headboard, then reached over again, this time brushing his knuckles against her arm, right in front of Aarav, as if asserting his claim.


"Aarav, ignore him, please, focus on us," Jaya begged, her voice trembling.
"How can I ignore this? You've destroyed everything, Jaya, our marriage, our family," Aarav said, his voice heavy with sorrow.


"Please, Aarav, we can fix this, counseling, anything, just don't leave," Jaya pleaded, her excuses piling up.

"You think counseling fixes this? Seeing you like that, hearing you say those things about me? Naked with another man?" Aarav countered, his tears drying into angry streaks.
"I didn't mean them, it was just talk, heat of the moment," Jaya insisted.


"Heat of the moment? You've made me sad, Jaya, sadder than I've ever been, questioning every day we spent together," Aarav said, his voice cracking again.
"I'm sorry, so sorry, let's start over, please," Jaya begged.


"Our marriage is over, Jaya. I can't look at you the same way anymore," Aarav declared, his words final, the pain evident in his furrowed brow.
"No, Aarav, don't say that, we have Rahul, we have a life," Jaya cried.


"Never call me again, never try to see me. I'll send papers, we'll figure out the rest through lawyers," Aarav said, turning away.
Aarav was about to leave, his footsteps heavy as he pivoted toward the door, but Jaya jumped from the bed, the blanket slipping slightly as she rushed forward, grabbing his arm.


"Aarav, wait, please, don't go like this," she begged, her voice desperate.
"Get away from me, Jaya, you've humiliated me enough," Aarav said angrily, shaking her off.


"Please, Aarav, I'm begging you, think about the good times, how I was always there for you," Jaya pleaded, pretending she was still the good wife, her eyes wide with feigned innocence.


"You were there? While fucking him? Save it," Aarav warned, his face red with fury.
Jaya dropped to her knees, clutching his leg. "I beg you, give me one more chance, I'll change, I'll be better."


Aarav pulled away, his voice cold. "No more chances. Goodbye, Jaya." Then he left, the door slamming behind him.


I still stood there, frozen in the doorway, taking in the scene. Our principal Gaurav was smiling, a smug, satisfied grin spreading across his face, probably because he felt victorious, having claimed Jaya in front of her husband, the power dynamic shifting in his favor, or maybe he enjoyed the destruction, the way he'd inserted himself into their lives and shattered it all.


Jaya stood there naked, the blanket forgotten on the floor, her body exposed, curves on full display, her skin flushed from the earlier activity, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.


I got out and went to follow Aarav, a perverted smile creeping onto my face as I thought about how thrilling it was to see him cheated on, the raw humiliation feeding that dark part of me.


Aarav went to pick up his briefcases while crying, his hands trembling as he grabbed the handles, tears streaming down his face anew, the duffel bag slipping once before he hoisted it.


"Uncle Aarav, wait, are you okay?" I asked, catching up to him in the living room, my voice soft but curious.
"Rajeev, I... I don't know what to say. This is all too much," Aarav replied, wiping his eyes with his sleeve, his voice choked.
"What about Rahul? Where is he in all this?" I asked, glancing back toward the bedroom.


"Rahul... he's probably at a friend's house or something. If he wants to visit me, tell him he can, wherever I end up staying. He's my son, I won't abandon him," Aarav said, his words heavy with emotion.


"I understand, Uncle. I'll let him know if I see him," I replied, nodding sympathetically.
"And Rajeev, please, don't say anything to anyone about what you saw. Not to your mom, not to anyone. This is humiliating enough, don't even tell Rahul ok?," Aarav pleaded, his eyes meeting mine earnestly.


"I promise, Uncle, I won't tell a soul. It's not my place," I agreed, though inside I was grinning at the secret.
We discussed more, Aarav venting a bit. "You know, I worked so hard for this family, traveling, sacrificing time, and this is what I come back to? It hurts, Rajeev, more than I can say."


"I can imagine, Uncle. It's not fair at all. What will you do now?" I asked, leaning against the wall.
"I'll find a hotel for tonight, figure out the rest tomorrow. Maybe stay with my brother for a while. Just need space to think," Aarav said, his voice steadying a little.


"That makes sense. If you need anything, like talking or help with stuff, I'm here," I offered, though my mind was elsewhere.


"Thanks, kid. You're a good boy. Take care of yourself, and stay away from messes like this," Aarav said, managing a weak smile before heading out the door.
He left, the sound of his car starting up fading into the night, and I stood there, smiling like a pervert, the image of Aarav's broken expression replaying in my mind, the thrill of witnessing his cheating making me feel alive in a twisted way.


But as I lingered in the house, the silence settling in after the chaos, I couldn't help but reflect on how everything had unraveled so quickly. Jaya's affair with Gaurav had been brewing for weeks, from what I'd overheard, but seeing it explode like this was something else. 


Gaurav's arrogance, sipping that water like he was king of the castle, touching her even with Aarav there—it was as if he derived pleasure from the power play, from rubbing it in the husband's face. Jaya's begs had been so desperate, her excuses flimsy, like she was grasping at straws to salvage what was left, but it was too late. The marriage was shattered, just like that glass on the floor.

[nadia]

After Aarav left, the house fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the distant hum of his car engine fading down the street. I stood in the living room for a moment, my heart still racing from the chaos, but curiosity gnawed at me like an itch I couldn't ignore. 


What was happening between Jaya and Gaurav now? Would she throw him out in a fit of regret, or would the affair pull her back in? I had to know, so I tiptoed back toward the bedroom, my sneakers soft on the hardwood floor, careful not to make a sound that might alert them. 


The door was still slightly ajar, a sliver of light spilling out, and I pressed myself against the wall, peering through the gap, my breath shallow to stay hidden. 


The room looked even more disheveled up close, with the sheets twisted like ropes and clothes scattered like forgotten relics, the air still thick with that lingering body odor mixed with the faint burnt scent from the kitchen.


Inside, Jaya sat on the edge of the bed, her naked body hunched forward, shoulders shaking as she cried softly, tears streaming down her face in glistening trails. 





Her hands covered her eyes, as if blocking out the reality of what had just happened, her full breasts heaving with each sob, the blanket she'd clutched earlier now dbangd loosely over her lap but doing little to hide her vulnerability. 



Gaurav sat next to her, also naked, his muscular frame relaxed against the headboard, one arm dbangd casually around her shoulders in a gesture that looked almost tender, his fingers gently stroking her bare skin. He didn't seem fazed by the drama, his expression calm, almost satisfied, as he leaned in closer, his free hand resting on her thigh.


"There, there, Jaya, don't cry like that," Gaurav said softly, his voice smooth and reassuring, pulling her a bit closer. "Divorce is the best thing that could happen right now. Think about it—you're free from that boring life, from pretending to be the perfect wife. Congratulations, really, this is a new start for us."


Jaya sniffled, her voice breaking as she shook her head, tears dripping onto her chest. "No, Gaurav, how can you say that? I've ruined everything, my life is damaged beyond repair. What will people say when they find out? My reputation as a good wife, a devoted mother—it's all gone, shattered into pieces. I'm such a fool, a selfish idiot for letting this happen."


She condemned herself in various ways, her words tumbling out like a confession, calling herself a worthless cheater who had thrown away a stable home for fleeting pleasure, a woman who had let lust blind her to the consequences, destroying her family's happiness in the process. 


She explained why through her sobs—it was because the guilt was crashing over her like a wave, the image of Aarav's tear-streaked face replaying in her mind, making her question every choice that led to this moment, the fear of judgment from friends, neighbors, and even Rahul twisting her insides.


Gaurav chuckled lightly, his hand moving up to wipe a tear from her cheek. "Come on, Jaya, you're being too hard on yourself. Your life isn't damaged—it's just evolving. And your reputation? Who cares what those gossips think? I'll be with you every step, protecting you, loving you the way he never could. We'll build something better, something exciting me and our son Rahul"



Dear Friends, I am really shocked! What did Gaurav mean when he said to Jaya about "our son"? Does it mean that Aarav is not the real father of Rahul? What? Are you kidding me?

So not only did Jaya cheat on Aarav, but she also lied to Aarav all those years that Rahul was his child? So the real father of Rahul is our college principal Gaurav? This is unbelievable!!


He spoke badly of Aarav then, his tone shifting to disdain. "That man was holding you back anyway, always away on trips, leaving you alone and unfulfilled. He's weak, boring, couldn't satisfy you if he tried. You deserve more than that pathetic excuse for a husband."


Jaya didn't defend Aarav, just nodded weakly through her tears, her voice small. "I know, but I'm still so sorry for him, Gaurav. He didn't deserve this, coming home to find us like that. He's a good man deep down, and I've hurt him so badly."


Gaurav tilted her chin up to meet his eyes. "Sorry? Why waste your tears on him? He never appreciated you, never made you feel alive like I do. Let him go cry somewhere else—focus on us now."


Jaya wiped her eyes, still crying. "But Aarav built this life with me, the house, the memories. I feel like a monster for doing this to him."
Gaurav's hand slid lower, his fingers brushing against her pussy, gently at first, tracing the folds with a teasing touch. 


"Monster? No, you're a woman who knows what she wants. But think about it—you didn't even get off my cock when your husband was standing right at the door, watching us. You stayed right there, moaning, like you couldn't bear to stop."


Jaya gasped, her body tensing, but she didn't pull away immediately. "Gaurav, stop talking like that. My marriage is done, over because of this. Don't make me feel worse."


He didn't stop, his fingers rubbing her pussy more insistently now, circling her clit with slow, deliberate strokes, dipping slightly inside her wetness, his touch firm yet teasing, making her hips twitch involuntarily. "Worse? I'm just reminding you of the truth. You chose pleasure over him in that moment—own it."


Jaya started moaning softly, her refusals mixed with the sounds, her body betraying her as her thighs parted slightly. "Ohh, Gaurav, no, I can't right now. I need to follow Aarav, apologize, try to make it right. Please stop rubbing my pussy"


Gaurav shook his head, his rubbing intensifying, his thumb pressing on her clit while his fingers slid in and out rhythmically. "Follow him? Don't be silly. He won't forgive you, not after seeing that. He's gone for good—let him go. Stay here with me."


Jaya moaned louder, her head falling back, but she protested weakly. "Ahaaaahhhh, but I have to try, oooh, he might listen if I explain."
Gaurav's other hand moved to hold her boobs, cupping one fully, his palm encompassing the soft flesh, squeezing gently at first then more firmly, his thumb flicking over her nipple, rolling it between his fingers until it hardened. 


He kneaded them with a possessive grip, alternating between light pinches and full massages, making her arch her back. "Listen to yourself moaning already. Aarav was never man enough for you—always too tired, too busy, too vanilla. He couldn't make you scream like I do. Forget him; he's a loser who didn't know how to keep his wife satisfied. Why cling to that when you have me?"


He continued to rub her pussy, his fingers now slick with her arousal, sliding deeper, curling inside to hit that sensitive spot, his pace quickening as her breaths came faster. Jaya was overwhelmed, her body trembling, torn between the guilt flooding her mind and the pleasure coursing through her veins, her moans growing involuntary, her hips bucking against his hand despite her words.


"Gaurav, ahh, it's too much, I can't think straight," she whimpered, her hands gripping the sheets.
With a sudden move, Gaurav pushed her back onto the bed, her body bouncing slightly on the mattress, her legs splaying open. Jaya looked up at him, not sure, her eyes wide with confusion. "Gaurav, wait, I'm not ready for this right now, my mind is a mess."


He didn't listen, turning her over with strong hands, positioning her into doggystyle, her knees sinking into the bed, her ass raised high, cheeks parting slightly. "I didn't fuck your asshole today, Jaya. Let's fix that—it's my favorite hole of you."


Jaya cursed at him, her voice laced with frustration but also desire, not caring about her marriage anymore in that heated moment. "You bastard, Gaurav, you're such a dirty fucker, always wanting my ass like a pervert."


Gaurav laughed, starting to blame her for her slutiness, not himself. "Me? You're the one who spreads her legs for me every chance you got, begging for it like a whore in heat. This is all on you, Jaya—your slutty ways got us here."


Jaya started crying again, knowing it was the truth, her tears mixing with moans as the reality hit her. "You're right, I'm a slut, a disgusting whore who couldn't keep her legs closed. I've destroyed everything because of this."


Gaurav blamed her more, calling her whore in creative ways, his voice dripping with mock pity. "That's right, you're a cock-hungry whore, a homewrecking bitch who throws away her family for a good fuck. Look at you, ass up, ready for more even after your husband walked out."


He spit on her asshole, the warm saliva landing directly on the tight ring, dribbling down slowly, making it glisten under the room's light. Jaya put her right hand on her asshole, covering it protectively, her fingers pressing against the slick spot. "Gaurav, no, not now, it's too soon."


Gaurav became cruel, pushing her hand away roughly, his palm slapping her ass cheek with a sharp smack that left a red mark. "Move it, whore. You don't get to say no after all this."


"I'm happy I ended your marriage, Jaya," he said, his tone gleeful. "Now you're all mine, no more sharing with that idiot."
Jaya sobbed. "How can you be happy? It's cruel, Gaurav, my life is over because of you."


"Your life is better now," Gaurav replied, positioning his dick at her asshole, the head pressing against the spit-slick entrance.
With a forceful push, he thrust inside her asshole, the tight ring stretching around him, her body jolting forward. He put his left hand on her head, pushing it down into the pillow, muffling her cries, his fingers tangled in her hair.






"Take it, you tight-assed slut," he growled, saying bad things to her and her asshole. "Your hole is so greedy, swallowing my dick like it was made for this. You're a dirty anal whore, aren't you?"


He started pushing so deep, his hips slamming against her ass, the room filling with the slap of skin, her cheeks jiggling with each thrust.


Dear friends this was so good to me, watching from the door, my breath fogging the crack as I peered in. 


I love to see women being treated like sluts, the way their bodies submit even when their minds resist, the power dynamic turning them into objects of desire and degradation, their moans a symphony of surrender that makes my pulse race with forbidden excitement.


I started recording it so that I can show Rahul, removing my phone from my pocket quietly, holding it steady through the door gap, the screen capturing every thrust, every moan.


Gaurav started fucking her asshole harder, his pace relentless, grunting with effort. I wondered why Jaya was moaning like she was encouraging him, her voice rising in pleasure despite the tears, "Ohh yes, deeper, fuck my ass," as if the pain and guilt were fueling her arousal.


In long detail, the incident seconds ago of her husband just vanished in her mind, the betrayal, the tears, the slamming door—all erased by the overwhelming sensation of Gaurav's dick filling her, the physical pleasure overriding the emotional turmoil, her body taking control, chasing the high that made everything else fade into a hazy background, the guilt momentarily buried under waves of ecstasy.


"Say bad things about Aarav, Jaya, tell me how worthless he is," Gaurav forced her, his hand pressing her head harder.
"Aarav is a pathetic loser, couldn't fuck me right," Jaya moaned, her voice muffled by the pillow.
"And your asshole? Say what a dirty hole it is," Gaurav demanded.


"My asshole is a filthy, stretched-out slut hole, made for your dick," Jaya replied, her words shocking me, the vulgarity pouring out like she was possessed.


He told her to say other really bad things, which I was shocked by, things like how she'd piss on Aarav's grave if he died, how Rahul would be better off without him. 


Jaya replied back to him, "I'd laugh if Aarav died tomorrow, he's a useless prick, Rahul doesn't need that weak father."
Then he demanded, "Give me my trousers next to you, Jaya."


I wondered why, my mind racing—what was in there that he needed now?
Jaya reached out, her arm stretching across the bed, handing him the trousers, still getting fucked, her big ass shaking with each impact, the flesh rippling like waves on water, quivering from the force.




He removed a ring from his pocket, an expensive one, gold with a large diamond sparkling under the lamp light, intricate engravings on the band.
"Remove your ring, Jaya," he demanded, his thrusts slowing slightly.


Jaya, still moaning, asked why, her voice curious amid the pleasure. "Why, Gaurav? What are you doing?"
"Because you're mine now, whore. Take off that old trash," he talked to her badly.


She removed it, sliding the wedding band off her finger, letting it drop to the floor with a soft clink.
"Turn your head, face behind," he told her, twisting her body slightly.
She did, moaning, "Ahh, what is that?"


He showed her the ring in the box as he smiled, the velvet case open in his palm.
She continued moaning, asking him, "Gaurav, oooh, what is that for?"


"It's for you, slut. A new start," he talked to her badly then told her.
Jaya responded, "You mean... oh god, really?"


Gaurav leaned forward, his dick still buried deep in her asshole, guiding the ring onto her finger with careful precision, the metal cool against her skin.


"Will you marry me, Jaya?" he asked, his voice mock-sweet amid the thrusts.
Jaya started crying emotional tears because of love, her eyes welling up with a mix of joy and confusion. "Oh Gaurav, yes, but what about Aarav? It's not good what I did to him, betraying him like this."


"Forget that fool, he's a spineless wimp who never deserved you. Marry me instead," Gaurav spoke bad of Aarav and asked her again.
Jaya gave excuses, "But we have history I can't just erase it."
"You can, and you will. Say yes," Gaurav pressed.


More back and forth, Jaya hesitating, "It's too soon, what will people think?"
"Who cares? Be mine," he insisted.


Finally, she accepted, "Yes, Gaurav, I'll marry you."
They kissed, his body leaning over hers, lips meeting in a deep, passionate lock, his dick still in her asshole in doggy style, the position awkward but intense.


Dear friends, this was the most erotic marriage proposal ever I have seen, emphasizing why—the raw mix of domination and romance, the proposal happening mid-fuck, her ass impaled as he slid the ring on, turning a moment of betrayal into one of commitment, the vulgarity blending with tenderness in a way that was both shocking and captivating.


After the kiss, he continued fucking her asshole, making him say bad things, "Take this dick, you ring-wearing whore, your new life starts with my cum in your ass."


Jaya said harsh things about Aarav, speaking like a slut, "Aarav's a tiny-dicked failure, I hate him, fuck me harder, make me your wife-slut."
She was such a slut, not caring about her husband anymore, her moans filling the room, body surrendering completely, the guilt evaporated, replaced by lustful abandon, her words dripping with disdain for the man she'd just lost