Wife wants door open while having sex

[ashuezy2]

Title: The Open Door Policy

Characters:

• Myra: A 34-year-old wife with big breasts with a taste for exhibition.
  
• Sagar: Her 36-year-old husband, drawn into her games.
  

---

Scene 1

(The scene opens in a lavish bedroom. Myra is on the bed, drɑped in a sheer black piece of lingerie. The door is closed. Sagar enters, stops dead in his tracks, his briefcase dropping to the floor with a thud.)
Sagar: Holy... Myra? What is this? I thought I had a meeting summary to read.
Myra: (patting the silk sheets beside her) The meeting has been moved. To this room. And you're the only attendee.
Sagar: (walking closer, his eyes devouring her) You are going to be the death of me. I can see everything. Every perfect curve. The shadow between your legs. Your nipples are so dark... so hard.
Myra: I was hoping you'd notice. Are you going to just stand there and stare, or are you going to close that deal?
(Sagar practically lunges for her, kissing her deeply. He rips off his tie, unbuttoning his shirt with frantic hands.)
Sagar: You have no idea what you do to me. I was in a boardroom full of people, and all I could think about was coming home to you. And now this... It's like you read my mind.
Myra: I have my ways. Now, lose the clothes. All of them. I want to feel your skin against mine.
(He complies, his expensive suit falling in a heap. He climbs onto the bed, his hands exploring the sheer fabric covering her.)
Sagar: This feels like sin. I want to tear it off you.
Myra: Not yet. I want you to appreciate the packaging before you unwrap the gift. Kiss me. No, not my lips. Lower.
(He trails kisses down her neck, over her collarbone, his mouth finally closing over one of her breasts through the transparent material.)
Myra: (gasping) Yes... just like that. Suck it. Harder. I want to feel your teeth.
(As he gets rougher, Myra's hands go behind his head, pulling him closer. Her legs wrap around his waist. He moves between them, rubbing his erection against her.)
Sagar: I can't wait anymore, Myra. I need to be inside you.
Myra: Wait.
(She pushes him back gently. He looks at her, confused, his breathing heavy.)
Sagar: What? What's wrong?
(Myra smiles, a wicked, playful glint in her eyes. She slides off the bed, her body a perfect silhouette against the light. She walks to the bedroom door and clicks it open, leaving it ajar by several inches.)
Sagar: Myra! What the hell are you doing? The servants... Ram, Kishore, Lata... anyone could walk by!
Myra: (walking back to the bed, her hips swaying) I know.
Sagar: Have you gone crazy?
Myra: (climbing on top of him, straddling his hips) Crazy for you. Now, listen to me.
Sagar: This is insane.
Myra: Sagar, from now onwards we will make love, but the door will remain open.
Sagar: You and your kinky games... you get excited if someone is watching.
Myra: Yeah, it is so exciting that someone may come in. Now, are you going to argue with me, or are you going to fuck your wife?
(Sagar stares at her, then past her at the open doorway, a sliver of the brightly lit hallway visible. A thrill of fear and excitement shoots through him. He grabs her hips.)
Sagar: You're going to get us caught.
Myra: I'm counting on it. Now, be quiet and slide inside me. Slowly. I want to feel every inch.
(He pushes into her, and she lets out a loud, deliberate moan.)
Sagar: (hissing) Myra, keep it down!
Myra: (grinding on him) No. I want them to hear. I want them to wonder what their mistress is doing. I want Ram to be polishing the hallway floor and hear me screaming your name.
Sagar: You're unbelievable.
Myra: Louder, Sagar. Tell me how good I feel. I want the whole house to know how much you want me.
Sagar: You feel so fucking tight... so wet...
Myra: (moaning loudly) Yes! Again! Sagar! Oh, god!
(She starts riding him faster, her head thrown back, her large breasts bouncing. Her eyes are locked on the open door.)
Myra: What if Kishore comes to ask about dinner? What will he see, Sagar? Tell me.
Sagar: He'll see your tits... he'll see me buried deep inside you... he'll see his boss's wife getting fucked with the door wide open.
Myra: (gasping) Don't stop. I think... I think I heard something. A footstep.
Sagar: (freezing) Shit.
Myra: (laughing breathlessly) Keep going. Don't you dare stop. Let them watch. Let them all watch. Turn me over. I want to be on my hands and knees... facing the door.

[pvsraju]

nice start,,,,,,,,,,,

[Blackdick11]

An exhibitionist wife turns the bedroom into a stage, and the servants into hungry voyeurs.

Pl continue it...

[ashuezy2]

Characters:

• Kishore: A young male servant.
  
• Lata: A young female servant.
  
• Ram: The older head servant.
  

---

Scene 2

(The scene opens on the ground floor, in the large, spotless kitchen. Ram is polishing silverware. Kishore is chopping vegetables, and Lata is kneading dough. Faint, rhythmic moans drift down from the floor above.)
Lata: (pausing, her hands covered in flour) Do you hear that?
Kishore: (stops chopping) Hear what?
Lata: That noise. From upstairs. Is Madam okay? It sounds like she is... in pain.
(The sound comes again, louder this time, a clear moan of pleasure.)
Kishore: That is not pain, Lata.
Ram: (without looking up from his work) That is none of your business. Keep your eyes on your work and your ears closed.
Kishore: I'm going to look.
Ram: You will do no such thing! Do you want to lose your job? Have you lost your mind?
Ram: Fools. You are both fools. When Sahib throws you out on the street, do not come crying to me.
Kishore: He won't throw us out. He won't even know. Let's go.
(Kishore and Lata sneak out of the kitchen and tiptoe towards the grand staircase. Ram shakes his head and resumes his polishing.)
(Upstairs, the hallway is quiet except for the sounds coming from the master bedroom. Kishore and Lata creep up the final steps, their hearts pounding.)
Lata: (whispering) Kishore, I'm scared.
Kishore: (whispering) Shhh! Look. The door... it really is open. I can see inside.
Lata: What do you see?
Kishore: Oh my gods... Lata... look.
(They huddle together, peeking through the gap in the doorway. Inside, Myra is on her hands and knees on the bed, her sheer lingerie doing nothing to hide her body. Sagar is behind her, his hands gripping her hips, thrusting into her.)
Myra: (loudly, clearly enjoying herself) Harder, Sagar! Fuck me like you mean it! I want the servants to hear!
Lata: (gasping, covering her mouth) She knows!
Kishore: She wants us to hear... Look at her... she is looking at the door! She is looking right at us!
Lata: She can't see us. It's too dark out here. Oh, Kishore... look at them. Sahib is completely naked.
Kishore: And Madam... that black thing she is wearing... you can see right through it. Her breasts are so big.
Sagar: (groaning) You're so tight, Myra... they can probably hear us all the way in the kitchen.
Myra: Good! Let them listen. Let them imagine their beautiful memsahib being taken like an animal! Slap my ass, Sagar!
(Sagar smacks her backside, the sound echoing in the hall. Lata flinches.)
Lata: He hit her!
Kishore: She told him to. Look at her face... she is smiling. She loves it.
Lata: Her body... it's so white. And her hair is all messy. She looks so... wild. Not like the Madam we see downstairs.
Kishore: This is what rich people do. Look at the bed... the silk sheets are all tangled.
Myra: I'm close, Sagar! I'm so close! Don't you dare stop! I want to come so hard that Lata feels the whole house shake!
(Lata and Kishore look at each other, their faces a mixture of terror and arousal.)
Lata: She said my name.
Kishore: She knows we're here. She has to know. This is a game for her.
Lata: What do we do? Should we run?
Kishore: No. Don't move. Just watch. Look at how he holds her hips... how he pushes into her again and again.
Lata: I feel dizzy. It's... it's too much.
Kishore: But you can't look away, can you?

Myra's moans are getting louder and higher-pitched. Sagar is grunting with effort. Kishore and Lata are still pressed against the wall, peeking through the open door.

Myra: (screaming) I'M CUMMING, SAGAR! OH GOD, I'M CUMMING! FILL ME UP!
Sagar: (roaring) MYRA!
Lata: (whispering, shaking) Kishore, their sounds... I've never...
(She turns to look at him and sees his hand moving at his crotch, outside his pants.)
Lata: Kishore? What are you doing with your hand?
Kishore: (breathing heavily, his eyes glued to the scene) I can't... I can't help it, Lata. Look at her. Just look.
Lata: Stop it! That's not right! We shouldn't be here, and you shouldn't be... doing that!
Kishore: I can't stop.
(He unbuttons his pants with his free hand. The sound of the zipper is loud in the quiet hall. He pulls out his erect penis.)
Lata: (gasping, her eyes going wide) KISHORE! Put that back! Are you crazy? What if Ram Kaka comes up? What if they come out?
Kishore: (stroking himself slowly) Shhh. They won't come out yet. Look... Madam is still shaking.
(Inside, Myra is collapsed on the bed, her body trembling. Sagar is still inside her, breathing hard.)
Myra: (panting) Did you hear me? I hope the whole neighbourhood heard me.
Sagar: (kissing her sweaty back) They heard you in the next city, my wild girl.
Lata: (staring at Kishore's hand moving on his penis) You have to put it away. Please.
Kishore: Just... just watch them with me. It feels so good. She is so beautiful.
Lata: It's wrong. We are servants.
Kishore: She wanted us to see. She said your name, Lata. She wanted you to see her like this.
Lata: Why are you doing this?
Kishore: Seeing her... like an animal... it makes me feel like an animal too.
(His hand moves faster. Lata can't tear her eyes away from his hand, then his face, then back to the couple in the room.)
Myra: (her voice recovering) Again, Sagar. I want to go again.
Sagar: Myra, I need a minute. You've drained me.
Myra: No. Pull out. I want to feel you on my skin. I want you to cum all over my back. Let the servants see it.
Lata: (a small whimper escapes her lips) Oh, god.
Kishore: (groaning) He's pulling out... Lata, look.
(Lata looks. Sagar withdraws from Myra and positions himself behind her again.)
Lata: What is he doing now?
Kishore: He's going to... to spill his seed on her. Like a farmer in a field.
(Kishore starts stroking himself much faster, his hips moving slightly.)
Myra: Do it now, Sagar! Now!
Lata: (looking at Kishore) It's... it's so big. I've never seen one before.
Kishore: (panting) I'm... I'm close, Lata. I am going to...
Lata: Here? You can't! The floor...
Kishore: I can't hold it!
(Inside, Sagar groans loudly, his body tensing. At the same moment, Kishore lets out a muffled cry, his own body convulsing. He spills his semen onto the marble floor of the hallway.)
Lata: (frozen in shock, staring at the white puddle on the floor) You made a mess.
Kishore: (breathing hard, leaning against the wall for support) I... I'm sorry.
(From inside the room, Myra's voice comes, clear and amused.)
Myra: Did you hear that? I think one of our little mice got a little too excited.
(A moment of dead silence in the hallway. Then, Sagar's low chuckle.)
Lata: (grabbing Kishore's arm, her eyes wide with terror) They know. They heard you. We have to go! NOW!

[Blackdick11]

The bedroom act was so raunchy... hope to see more such encounters... and If the wife gets thrill from being watched, then the husband should take it further — push it into the next level of shameless pleasure.

[Bakchod Londa]

Awesome!!!
Please continue it...

[Givemeextra]

Pls continue

[ashuezy2]

Total 13 likes, 7 more likes and next scenes will be released.

[Blackdick11]

Bro, when’s the next update coming?

[ashuezy2]

19 likes out of 20. One more like.

[ashuezy2]

Title: The Open Door Policy

Characters:

• Myra: The puppeteer.
  
• Sagar: Her willing accomplice.
  
• Kishore: The servant on the edge.
  
• Lata: His panicked observer.
  

---

Scene 3

(The scene opens in the hallway, an exact continuation. Inside, Sagar is poised over Myra's back. Outside, Kishore has just relieved himself, his body tensing.)
Myra: (from inside) Do it now, Sagar! Now!

Lata: (whispering, horrified) You did it. Oh, god, you made a mess on the floor!
Kishore: Shhh! I couldn't control myself....

(He's still holding his penis, his hand frozen. He is breathing in ragged gasps. Inside the room, Sagar lets out a final, deep groan.)

Myra: (sighing with pleasure) Ah... perfect. Absolutely perfect.
Sagar: (laughing softly) You are an insatiable woman, Myra.
Myra: I know. And I'm also terribly thirsty. All this activity...
(Myra's voice suddenly becomes louder, clearer, directed not at Sagar but at the hallway.)
Myra: Lata? Is that you I hear shuffling about in the hallway?

(Kishore and Lata freeze, their blood turning to ice.)

Kishore: (whispering frantically) She knows. She heard us. She knows we are here.

Lata: (her voice trembling) She said my name. What do we do?

Kishore: (fumbling with his pants) Oh god, oh god, we are fired. We are finished.

Myra: (calling out again, a playful, commanding tone in her voice) Lata, darling, be a dear and fetch us two glasses of cold water, would you? Your Sahib and I have worked up quite a thirst.

Lata: She... she wants me to bring water. Now?

Kishore: (finally gets his pants buttoned) It's a trap. She wants to see our faces. She wants to see us shamed.

Lata: What do I do? I can't just... walk in there. They are... they are naked!

Kishore: You have to! If you don't go, she will know for sure we were spying.

Lata: But you... your...

Kishore: I am going. Downstairs. Now. You have to do this, Lata.

Lata: No! Don't leave me here!

Kishore: Straighten your dupatta. Fix your hair. Act normal. Just act normal! Go!

(He gives her a terrified look and practically runs, silent as a mouse, back towards the staircase.)

Lata: Kishore!

(He's gone. She is alone in the hallway. The only sound is the soft murmur of Myra and Sagar talking inside the room.)

Myra: (her voice laced with amusement) I wonder what's keeping her? Perhaps she's shy.

(Lata stands frozen for a moment, her heart hammering against her ribs. She smooths her clothes, takes a deep, shaky breath, and forces her feet to move towards the kitchen.)

(A minute later, she returns, a tray with two glasses of chilled water in her trembling hands. She stops just outside the open door.)

Lata: (her voice is a tiny, weak squeak) Madam?

Myra: Ah, there you are. Don't just stand there in the hall, dear. Come in.

(Lata standing at the threshold of the master bedroom, holding a tray with two glasses of water. The tray is visibly trembling. Inside, Myra is lounging back against a pile of pillows on the bed, a silk sheet dbangd loosely across her lap and legs, leaving her breasts completely exposed. Sagar is sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing only his trousers, his bare chest glistening with a light sheen of sweat.)

Myra: Well? Don't be shy. Come in, come in. The glasses are getting heavy, I'm sure.

Lata: (taking a hesitant step inside, her eyes fixed on the floor) Yes, Madam.

Sagar: Be careful you don't trip, Lata.

Lata: (her voice barely a whisper) Yes, Sahib.

Myra: You can put the tray right here, on the bedside table. You'll have to come a little closer.

(Lata inches forward, her body stiff with fear. She carefully places the tray on the small table next to Myra, trying desperately not to look at her mistress's naked torso or the tangled, wet sheets.)

Myra: Thank you, dear. You're a good girl. Now, look at me.

(Lata flinches but slowly, fearfully, raises her eyes to meet Myra's.)

Myra: Goodness, you look so flushed. Are you feeling alright? You're not coming down with a fever, are you?

Lata: No, Madam. I am... I am fine.

Sagar: She looks frightened, Myra. Like a little bird that has fallen from its nest.

Myra: Nonsense. There's nothing to be frightened of in here, is there? It's just us. Tell me, Lata... you came up the stairs very quickly. You must have been nearby.

Lata: I... I was just finishing my work in the pantry, Madam.

Myra: The pantry? All the way downstairs? That's funny. I could have sworn I heard noises just outside our door a few minutes ago. A lot of... shuffling. Whispering, even. Did you hear anything?

Lata: (swallowing hard, her throat suddenly dry) No, Madam. The house is very quiet.

Myra: Is it? Quiet? That's very strange. Because I don't think we were being very quiet at all. Were we, Sagar?

Sagar: (a low chuckle) No, my love. I think we made quite a bit of noise.

Myra: (her eyes sparkling with mischief as she stares directly at Lata) So tell me the truth, Lata. You were out there with Kishore, weren't you? Enjoying the show?

[ashuezy2]

Title: The Open Door Policy

Characters:

• Myra: The director of the play.
  
• Sagar: Her lead actor.
  
• Lata: The captive audience.
  

---

Scene 4

(The scene opens with Lata frozen in place, Myra’s question hanging in the air like a guillotine. Tears well up in Lata’s eyes, and a small sob escapes her lips.)

Lata: (her voice breaking) Yes, Madam.

Myra: Yes... what? Speak clearly, child.

Lata: (tears streaming down her face) Yes, Madam. We were... we were watching. Please, Madam, please don't fire us! Kishore didn't mean any harm... I didn't... We just heard the sounds and we were curious. We are so sorry! Please forgive us!

(Myra looks at Sagar, a slow, triumphant smile spreading across her face. She reaches out and gently tilts Lata’s chin up with one finger.)

Myra: Forgive you? My dear girl, there is nothing to forgive. Curiosity is not a crime. And you shouldn't be sorry for wanting to look at beautiful things.

Lata: (confused) Madam?

Myra: You didn't do anything wrong. But hiding in the hallway... that's for children. If you want to watch, you will watch properly.

Sagar: Myra, what are you doing?

Myra: I'm educating her, my love. Now, Lata. You are not to leave this room. You will stand right there, at the foot of the bed. And you will not look away. Do you understand me?

Lata: (trembling) I... I don't...

Myra: Do you understand me?

Lata: Yes, Madam.

Myra: Good girl. Now, where were we, Sagar? Ah, yes. I believe you were about to worship my body. With our guest watching.

Sagar: (a grin spreading across his face) Our guest. I like that. She looks so scared.

Myra: She'll learn. Now, kiss me. Start with my neck. I want Lata to see how your lips feel on my skin.

(Sagar leans over and begins kissing Myra’s neck and shoulders. Myra lets her head fall back, her eyes closing slightly, though she occasionally glances towards Lata to make sure she is watching.)

Myra: That's it... slowly. Now my breasts. Take one in your mouth. Be rough. I want to feel your teeth again.

Sagar: (muttering against her skin) And what about our guest? Does she see?

Myra: (moaning softly) She sees everything. She sees how you make my nipples hard. She sees how my body arches when you bite me. She's learning what a woman wants.

Lata: (a tiny whisper) Please... may I go?

Myra: (her eyes snap open, sharp and cold) No. I told you to stand there and watch. Now be silent. Sagar, I want you on top of me again. But this time, face her. I want her to see your face when you are inside me. I want her to see your eyes.

(Sagar moves, positioning himself between Myra's legs, propped up on his elbows. He is directly facing Lata, who quickly looks down at the floor.)

Myra: Lata. Look up. Now.

(Lata slowly, fearfully, raises her head. She is met with Sagar's intense, dark eyes as he slowly pushes into his wife.)

Myra: (a loud, sharp gasp) Yes! Just like that. Do you see, Lata? Do you see how he fills me? This is what a husband does. This is what a man does. Watch his face. Watch his control. He won't cum until I tell him to.

Sagar: (speaking to Lata, his voice low and steady) You should not be ashamed of watching, little bird. This is life. This is pleasure.

Myra: Don't speak to her. Just fuck me. Let her watch. Harder. Make the bed shake. I want her to feel it in her feet.

Myra: (panting, her voice a commanding cry) That’s it! Harder! Make me scream, Sagar! I want Lata to hear what a real orgasm sounds like!

Sagar: (grunting with the effort) Look at her, Myra... she's not even blinking. Her eyes are so wide.

Myra: She is learning. She is seeing what pleasure looks like. Do you see this, Lata? Do you see the sweat on your master’s back? He is working hard to please me. A man must always work hard to please his woman.

Lata: (a soft, involuntary whimper)

Myra: That's it, little bird. Let the sounds out. Tell me, Sagar, how does my pussy feel? Describe it for our guest.

Sagar: It feels... like hot, wet velvet. It's gripping my cock so tightly... trying to milk me dry.

Myra: And my breasts? Are they beautiful while they bounce?

Sagar: They are perfect. I want to put my mouth on them.

Myra: Not yet. We have to give Lata the full view. Now... I want you to lift my legs up. Put them on your shoulders. Yes, like that. Higher.

(Sagar adjusts, lifting Myra’s legs onto his shoulders, exposing her completely to Lata's shocked gaze.)

Myra: Now you can see everything, can't you, Lata? No secrets. This is where you came from. This is where all pleasure begins and ends. It is not something to be ashamed of. It is something to worship.

Lata: (whispering to herself) Oh my god... oh my god...

Myra: Your gods are not in this room, child. I am the only god in here tonight. Now, Sagar... I want you to cum. But not inside me. I want you to pull out. I want you to spill your seed all over my stomach. I want Lata to see your offering.

Sagar: Are you sure?

Myra: Do it. Let her watch. Let her see the mess we make for pleasure.

(Sagar quickens his pace, his breathing becoming ragged.)

Sagar: Myra... I'm close... I'm so close...

Myra: Do it now! Pull out! Show her!

(He pulls out at the last second, groaning loudly as he erupts over Myra's belly and breasts. They both lie there, panting, covered in sweat and semen. Lata stares, her hand covering her mouth.)

Myra: (after a moment, her voice soft and husky) You see, Lata? It's messy. It's beautiful. It's real. Now... pass me my silk robe from that chair. Your master is tired. Help me cover myself so he can rest.

Lata: Madam... your robe.

Myra: (her voice is a soft purr) Don't just hand it to me, child. Dbang it over me. You can touch me. I don't bite. Unless I'm asked to.

(Lata swallows hard and gently lays the robe over Myra’s body, her fingers accidentally brushing against Myra's semen-slick skin. Lata flinches but Myra just smiles. The robe covers her.)

Myra: There. Thank you. My husband is sleeping now. We tired him out. But you and I are going to have a little chat. Sit.

Lata: On the chair, Madam?

Myra: No. On the floor. Right here, beside my bed. I want to see your face.

(Lata nervously sinks to the floor, tucking her feet under her. She stares at her hands in her lap.)

Myra: Look at me, Lata. The show is over. Now we talk about it. Tell me what you saw tonight.

Lata: I... I saw you and Sahib...

Myra: No, no. Don't be vague. I want details. I want to know what it looked like through your eyes. What was the very first thing you saw when you peeked through the door?

Lata: I saw... Sahib kissing your breasts through the black lingerie.

Myra: And then?

Lata: You... you took it off... and you got on your hands and knees. And he was behind you. I saw him push his... his thing inside you.

Myra: His cock. Say the word, Lata. It is just a word for a part of the body.

Lata: (whispering) His cock.

Myra: Good. What else did you see?

Lata: I saw the sweat on his back. I saw the way your hips moved... back and forth. I heard the noise of your bodies hitting. It was a slapping sound.

Myra: It is a beautiful sound, isn't it? And what about the end? The part just now. Describe that to me.

Lata: You made him... pull out. He came all over your stomach. It was white and thick.

Myra: Yes, it was. Now for the most important question, Lata. How did watching all of this make you feel?

Lata: I was scared, Madam.

Myra: I know you were scared. But what else? Underneath the fear... what did you feel in your body? Down there, between your legs. Tell me the truth.

(Lata is silent for a long moment, tears welling in her eyes again.)

Lata: (ashamed) It was... wet, Madam. I felt wet. And warm. And when you screamed... I felt a shock inside me. It... it was exciting. I am so sorry, Madam, I am a bad girl.

Myra: (leaning forward, her voice soft but firm) No. You are not a bad girl. You are a woman. And you felt pleasure. Never, ever be sorry for that. You did nothing wrong tonight. You looked. You felt. It is natural.

Lata: But... I am a servant.

Myra: In this room, you are a woman first. And I am your teacher. You need to learn about these things. So this is my promise to you, Lata. From now on, the door to our bedroom will always be open.

Lata: (looking up, shocked) Always?

Myra: Always. When you hear us, you do not need to hide in the hallway with Kishore. You are welcome to stand where you can see. You have my permission to watch. Do you understand?

Lata: (her voice full of awe) Yes, Madam. I understand.

[ashuezy2]

Title: The Open Door Policy

Characters:

• Myra: The Queen of the house.
  
• Sagar: Her King.
  
• Lata: The invited guest.
  
• Kishore: The eager voyeur.
  
• Ram: The voice of tradition.
  

---

Scene 5

(The scene is set in the kitchen, three days after the last incident. It is late evening. Ram is reading a newspaper. Kishore is polishing a pair of Sagar’s shoes. Lata is folding laundry. The house is quiet until a long, unmistakable moan drifts down from the first floor.)

Kishore: (stops polishing, a grin spreading across his face) Did you hear that?

Lata: (pauses, a folded sheet in her hands) It’s starting.

Ram: (turns a page in his newspaper, his voice sharp) It is nothing. Mind your own work.

(Another sound from upstairs, louder this time. A sharp slap of skin on skin, followed by Myra’s breathless laughter.)

Kishore: It's not nothing, Ram Kaka. It's happening again. The door is wide open this time. I saw it when I took the evening tea up. You can see the whole bed from the hallway.

Ram: You will stay out of the hallway. Have you no shame? No respect for yourselves or for them?

Lata: But... she said it was okay, Ram Kaka.

Ram: (lowers his paper, staring at her with disbelief) What did you say?

Lata: Memsahib... she told me. She gave me permission. She said the door will always be open for me... that I am welcome to watch.

Ram: (standing up, his voice a low, angry rumble) She is corrupting you. This is a sickness. She is a rich, bored woman playing games with her staff because she has nothing better to do. And you are letting her.

Kishore: It is not a game! It is... exciting! Did you not hear her scream last time? It was incredible.

(From upstairs, Myra's voice rings out, clear and commanding.)

Myra: ON YOUR KNEES, SAGAR! I WANT TO FEEL YOUR TONGUE!

Kishore: (his eyes wide) Oh my god. He is going to...

Ram: Silence! I will not have this filthy talk in my kitchen!

Lata: But she invited me... It feels wrong to disobey her.

Ram: It is more wrong to stand in a hallway and watch what should only be between a husband and a wife! She is testing your morals, and you are failing!

Kishore: I am going up.

Ram: You will stay right here!

Kishore: No. She gave Lata permission, and I am going with her. Lata, come on. She is waiting for us. She is performing for us!

Lata: (looking from a furious Ram to an eager Kishore, she is torn) I... I should go. She will be angry if I don't.

Ram: She will not be angry. She will be pleased that you still have some decency left. Do not go up those stairs, Lata. I am telling you, this will end badly.

(Sagar lets out a loud, guttural groan from upstairs.)

Kishore: I am not missing any more of this. I'm going. Lata, are you coming or are you going to sit here and fold towels?

Lata: (places the folded laundry down on the table, her decision made) I am sorry, Ram Kaka. But she is the Memsahib. I must do as she says.

Ram: (sits back down heavily in his chair, defeated) Then go. Go and watch the animals in their cage. Do not speak to me when you come back down.

(Kishore gives Lata a triumphant look. Together, they quietly exit the kitchen and head for the stairs, leaving Ram alone with the newspaper and the growing sounds of ecstasy from the floor above.)


Kishore: (whispering, his voice full of awe) I told you, Lata. It's wide open. We can see everything.

Lata: (whispering back, her voice trembling) Shhh! Be quiet! Oh, Kishore... look...

(They peek around the doorframe. Inside, Myra is lying on her back on the bed, naked. Sagar is kneeling over her, his head buried in her chest.)

Kishore: What is he doing?

Lata: He's... oh my... He is sucking her breast. His whole mouth is on it.

Kishore: Look at his hands... he is squeezing the other one. It looks so soft.

Lata: Like a baby... he is like a hungry baby.

(From inside the room, Myra's voice is a low, satisfied moan. She shifts her hips.)

Myra: That's it, my love. Drink it all. I want you to leave marks. I want to see your teeth prints on my skin tomorrow.

Sagar: (his voice muffled against her skin) You taste so sweet.

Myra: I know. Now the other one. Give it the same attention. I don't want it to get jealous.

(Sagar moves his head to her other breast. Myra sighs contentedly, then her voice becomes a little louder, carrying clearly into the hallway. She doesn't turn her head.)

Myra: I was wondering when you two would get here. The show was getting lonely without an audience.

(Kishore and Lata gasp and pull back from the doorway, flattening themselves against the wall.)

Kishore: She knows! She knew we were here the whole time!

Lata: I told you to be quiet!

Myra: (her voice is amused, not angry) Oh, don't be shy. Don't hide in the shadows like naughty children. That was last time. You have my permission now, remember?

Sagar: (lifts his head, a grin on his face) Are our little mice here, my love?

Myra: They are. Come now, both of you. Step into the light where I can see you. I want to see your faces while my husband worships me. It makes it so much better.

[ashuezy2]

Title: The Open Door Policy

Characters:

• Myra: The generous host.
  
• Sagar: The obedient performer.
  
• Lata & Kishore: The shocked guests of honor.
  

---

Scene 6

(The scene opens with Kishore and Lata frozen in the hallway. After a moment of terrified silence, Kishore nudges Lata forward, and they take a hesitant step into the doorway, framed by the light from the bedroom.)

Lata: (stammering) Madam... we... we didn't mean to...

Myra: (smiling warmly, as if greeting guests at a party) Hush now. Of course you meant to. You were drawn by the sound of pleasure, like moths to a flame. There is no shame in that. Welcome. I'm so glad you came. Please, make yourselves comfortable.

Kishore: Comfortable, Madam?

Myra: Yes. You are my guests for this performance. Now, Sagar, you've kept our guests waiting long enough. Let's not be rude. My nipples are getting cold.

(Sagar, who had been watching the servants with an amused smirk, immediately lowers his head and takes one of Myra's nipples into his mouth again, sucking audibly.)

Myra: (letting out a long, theatrical moan) Ah, yes. Much better. He is very good at this, isn't he? It takes practice.

(She looks directly at Kishore and Lata. Her eyes are glittering with a dark, playful fire.)

Myra: It must be difficult for you both. Just standing there. Watching. Feeling things in your own bodies and being forced to ignore them. That's not fair, is it?

(Kishore and Lata look at each other, then quickly look away, their faces burning with shame.)

Myra: I remember last time, Kishore. You were so excited you almost couldn't control yourself. You had to stop. Such a waste of a good feeling. We can't have that happen again.

(She shifts slightly on the bed, making Sagar groan as he moves to her other breast.)

Myra: So, tonight, I am giving you a gift. There are no rules in this hallway for you. You are my guests, and you must enjoy the show in your own way.

Lata: (a confused whisper) Madam?

Myra: (her voice drops to a seductive, conspiratorial tone) You are free to do what you like. If you want to touch yourselves, you may. If you want to touch each other, you may. Unbutton your clothes. Take out your cock, Kishore. Put your hand down your pants, Lata. Whatever you desire. Your only rule is that you must not leave, and you must not be silent. I want to hear you enjoying yourselves. It will make this so much better for me.

Kishore: (a desperate, quiet whisper to Lata) She means it. Lata... she really means it.

Lata: (whispering back, her voice shaking) We can't, Kishore. It's a sin. Ram Kaka said...

Myra: He is right, Lata. Disobedience is the only real sin in this house.

(Her voice, calm and clear, makes them both jump. Kishore, his face a mask of determination and lust, slowly brings his hand to the button of his trousers.)

Kishore: I'm sorry, Lata. I have to.

(He unbuttons his pants and, his eyes locked on Myra, pulls out his hard cock. He begins to stroke himself, slowly at first.)

Lata: (a choked gasp) Kishore...

Myra: (her voice a pleased hum) Very good, Kishore. Very obedient. Now you, Lata. Don't let him have all the fun.

(Lata looks from Kishore's hand moving rhythmically, to the scene on the bed, to Myra’s expectant eyes.
With a small sob of surrender, she slides her hand under her kameez, her fingers finding her own breast.)

Myra: That's it. That’s my good girl. Now, both of you... I want to hear you. Breathe. Moan. Let me know you're enjoying my gift.

(Kishore’s breathing becomes heavy, his eyes fixated on Myra's chest where Sagar is still lavishing attention.)

Kishore: (his voice is a breathless, awestruck groan) Madam...

Myra: (without taking her eyes off him) Yes, Kishore? Tell me.

Kishore: Your breasts... they are so big. So perfect. The most beautiful things I have ever seen.
(Sagar stops what he's doing and lifts his head, a single drop of saliva clinging to Myra's red nipple. He looks at Kishore with a raised eyebrow.)

Sagar: He's a bold one, my love.

Myra: (laughs, a low, throaty sound of pure triumph) He has excellent taste. Thank you for the compliment, Kishore.

(She looks directly at him, her eyes promising a world of sin.)

Myra: Since you admire them so much... perhaps, if you are a very good boy, I will let you have a taste later.

[ashuezy2]

Title: The Open Door Policy

Characters:

• Myra: The goddess making promises.
  
• Sagar: Her high priest.
  
• Lata & Kishore: The stunned worshippers.
  

---

Scene 7

(The scene opens in the immediate, ringing silence after Myra’s shocking offer. Kishore’s hand is frozen on his cock. He stares at Myra, his mouth hanging open, unable to process what he just heard. Lata lets out a small, sharp gasp.)

Kishore: (stammering) A... a taste? Madam? You... you cannot be serious.

Myra: (leaning back into the pillows, the picture of calm authority) I am always serious when it comes to pleasure, Kishore. Sagar is enjoying them. Why shouldn't a true admirer be rewarded for his devotion?

Sagar: (chuckles, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand) You've broken the boy, Myra. Look at him. He can't believe his luck.

Myra: It is not luck, my love. It is a reward. A prize to be earned. The night is still young, and I have not yet decided if he has been a good enough boy.

(Hearing this, a fire ignites in Kishore’s eyes. The shock is replaced by a desperate, frantic energy. His hand begins to move again, much faster and harder than before.)

Kishore: (panting, his voice thick with need) I will be a good boy, Madam. I will be the best boy.

Lata: (a shocked whisper) Kishore, stop!

Myra: Let him be, Lata. He is trying to earn his prize. You should be trying to earn one too. Or are you happy just to watch him win?

(Lata looks at Kishore, then at the confident, smiling Myra. A flicker of something – jealousy, desire, desperation – crosses her face. Her own hand, which had stilled, begins to move again under her clothes, more deliberately this time.)

Myra: That's better. A little healthy competition. Now, Sagar, let's give them a proper show to inspire them. Get between my legs again.

(Sagar moves over Myra, and she wraps her legs around his waist. He doesn't enter her, but just hovers over her, their bodies close.)

Myra: That's it. Now, watch, you two. Watch me and my husband. And come for me. I want you both to come right now. Your pleasure is the price of admission.

Kishore: (a loud, guttural groan) I'm close, Madam! I'm so close! Watching you... thinking of your promise...

Lata: (a series of soft, sharp moans escape her lips) Oh... oh... oh...

Myra: Now! Both of you! Come for your Memsahib!

(Kishore cries out, his body arching as he erupts onto his own hand and the floor. A moment later, Lata stiffens, her head falling back with a silent, shuddering gasp.)

(They both stand panting, spent, in the doorway. Sagar slowly lowers himself onto Myra.)

Myra: (her voice is dangerously soft) A very good boy, Kishore. And a very good girl, Lata. You both earned a reward. But there is only one first prize.

(She looks at Kishore.)

Myra: Clean yourself. Then, you may approach the bed.

[ashuezy2]

20 more likes for next scenes.

[LustyLeo]

Looks like Myra wants to make her husband a cuckold and fuck with these servants. She is planning it.

[Blackdick11]

Sexy update bro...
Damn, what a memsaheb... so progressive and philanthropic
teaching her servants art of lovemaking with demonstration!
where do you even find such kind-hearted memsaheb these days?

[ashuezy2]

Title: The Open Door Policy

Characters:

• Myra: The Queen, bestowing her favor.
  
• Sagar: The King, observing the ceremony.
  
• Kishore: The victor claiming his prize.
  
• Lata: The defeated witness.
  

---

Scene 8

Kishore: (breathless and confused) Approach... the bed, Memsahib?

Myra: That is what I said. But first, a little housekeeping. A good boy doesn't leave a mess for others to clean. Use your handkerchief. Be quick.

(Kishore looks down, his face flooding with shame. He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and awkwardly kneels, wiping the floor clean. He doesn't dare look at Lata. He quickly finishes and shoves the soiled cloth back into his pocket, then stands up, his entire body trembling.)

Myra: Well? I am a very patient woman, but even I have my limits. Come here.

(Kishore takes a slow, hesitant step forward. Then another. It feels like he is walking a thousand miles. The soft Persian rug muffles his footsteps. He stops when he is standing beside the massive bed, inches away from Myra. He keeps his eyes downcast.)

Sagar: He looks like a condemned man walking to the gallows, my love. Or perhaps like a peasant called before his queen.

Myra: He is both. Look at me, Kishore.

(Kishore slowly raises his eyes. Myra is smiling at him. She is radiant, powerful, terrifying.)

Myra: You were brave tonight. You were obedient. And you said something very sweet. You admired my breasts. A prize must be given. Kneel down.

(His knees hit the soft carpet with a faint thud. He is now at eye level with her body.)

Myra: That's right. Now, I believe I promised you a taste. A reward for your devotion.

(She reaches out and places a hand on the back of his head. Kishore flinches but doesn't pull away.)

Myra: Shhh. Don't be frightened. This is a gift. You may kiss me.

Kishore: (a choked whisper) Kiss... you, Madam?

Myra: Not my lips, silly boy. Your prize. You may kiss my breast. Just once. A small taste of what you desire. Go on. Show me your gratitude.

(Slowly, gently, she guides his head forward. His eyes are wide with a mixture of pure terror and ecstatic disbelief. He can smell her skin, a mix of expensive perfume and sex. He closes his eyes as his lips make contact with the tip of her breast and he sticks out his tongue to lick the entire areolas first to make it wet and then lands a soft kiss on the nipple.)

(From the doorway, a single, sharp sob breaks the silence. It is Lata.)

Myra: (her voice a triumphant whisper as Kishore kisses her) Good boy. A very, very good boy.

(Kishore pulls back, his face pale and awestruck. Myra looks from his dazed expression to the doorway, where Lata’s sob is clearly audible.)

Myra: That is enough, Kishore. You have been rewarded. Return to your place in the doorway.

Kishore: (scrambling to his feet, bowing his head) Yes, Memsahib. Thank you, Memsahib.

(He practically stumbles back to the doorway, his eyes wide and unfocused. He stands there, trembling, as Myra’s attention shifts completely.)

Sagar: Listen. Our other little guest is weeping. Did the sight of your generosity break her heart?

Myra: Perhaps. Or perhaps she is merely sad that she lost the race. Jealousy is such a powerful spice, isn't it?

(Myra’s voice cuts through the air, sharp and clear, silencing Lata’s crying instantly.)

Myra: Lata. Stop that noise. Tears are for children. Now, come closer.

(Lata flinches as if struck. She looks up, her face streaked with tears, her eyes wide with fear.)

Lata: Madam...?

Myra: You heard me. Your turn is not over. Walk here and stand where Kishore just knelt. Let me have a proper look at you.

(Lata, looking like a lamb being led to the slaughter, slowly shuffles forward. She passes Kishore in the doorway, who can only stare. She walks the long path to the bedside and stands there, her head bowed, her hands twisting the fabric of her kameez.)

Sagar: She looks so pitiful. What prize is there for second place?

Myra: Tell me, Lata. Why were you crying? Were you upset that your friend was so bold? Or were you upset that it was his mouth on my breast, and not yours?

Lata: (a choked, miserable whisper) I don't know, Madam.

Myra: Oh, I think you do. It's alright. It is a bitter thing to watch someone else receive a gift you desire. But I am not unfair. First prize may be gone, but there are other rewards. Other lessons to be learned.

Sagar: What kind of lesson?

Myra: A quieter one. She is not a creature of appetite, like Kishore. She is a creature of feeling. Give me your hand, Lata.

(Lata looks up, confused and terrified.)

Myra: Your hand. Now.

[ashuezy2]

Title: The Open Door Policy

---

Scene 9

(The scene opens with Lata standing terrified by the bed. Myra's command hangs in the air. Slowly, as if it weighs a hundred kilos, Lata extends her trembling hand.)

Lata: Like... like this, Memsahib?

Myra: Yes. Just like that.

(Myra takes Lata’s small hand in her own. Her grip is surprisingly warm and firm. Lata tries to pull back, but Myra’s fingers tighten gently.)

Myra: Shhh. Do not pull away. The lesson is beginning.

(First, Myra lifts Lata’s hand and places it flat against her own chest, over her heart.)

Myra: Feel that? That is my heart. It is beating very fast. Your Sahib makes my heart beat fast. The excitement of being watched... that makes it beat even faster. Do you feel it?

Lata: (a choked whisper) Yes, Madam.

Myra: Good. Now, feel this.

(She guides Lata's hand down, over her stomach, pressing her palm into the sticky, cooling puddle of Sagar’s semen.)

Lata: (gasping, trying to snatch her hand away) Madam!

Myra: (holding her firmly) Do not be afraid. It is just life. This is your Sahib’s seed. His gift to me. Feel how warm it still is on my skin. This is the mess that pleasure makes. It is not something to be cleaned in shame. It is a trophy.

(Lata is crying silently now, her body rigid with a mixture of disgust and a terrifying, new curiosity. Kishore watches from the doorway, his own reward seeming distant and simple compared to this.)

Sagar: Her eyes are closed. She cannot bear to look.

Myra: She does not need to look. She needs to feel. We are not finished yet, Lata. The most important part of the lesson is last.

(With infinite slowness, Myra slides Lata's hand down further, past her navel, into the dark hair between her legs. She guides Lata’s fingers directly to her wet, swollen clitoris.)

Lata: (a strangled cry) NO! MADAM, PLEASE! I BEG YOU!

Myra: (her voice is a hypnotic, soft whisper right next to Lata's ear) This is your prize, little bird. This is what you were truly crying for. This is the center of everything. The heart of all pleasure. This is what was aching inside you when you watched. Feel it. Feel how wet I am. Feel how I am trembling. That is my pleasure. And now... it is in your hand.

Sagar: A bold lesson, my love.

Myra: The only kind worth teaching. Now, Lata. Just a little pressure. Right there. Show me you understand.