Adultery Latha House wife sacrifices for Husband

[gvsubu1995]

Hi 


This is not a story... But discussion about Top  stories present running.



1)Rural posting Shipra

2) Geetha the teacher

3) Conservative married woman and cuck husband

4) Husbands doubt

5) Husbands mistake and wife's bang

6)Humiliated Hubby Akhil leading  cuckload

7) Priya Didi



I like these top stories.. I think... 

But I like most  innocent Wifes  sex stories..



Please post wife stories  list. If any one know

[gvsubu1995]

Hi, any one please suggest long wife husband sex stories....

[gvsubu1995]

Latha adjusted the pleated edge of her deep maroon saree for the 

third time in the mirror. The silk clung to her curves in a way that 

made her feel both elegant and slightly exposed. At 29, she still had 

the soft, glowing skin of a new bride, even after four years of 

marriage. Her husband Arun always said her 34C breasts and rounded 

hips looked “sinfully innocent” in traditional wear.

Tonight was important. Arun’s boss, Vikram Mehra — the Regional 

Director who could make or break careers with one signature — had personally invited them to his sprawling farmhouse on the outskirts of the city

for what he called a “small celebration.” Arun had been working insane hours for the last promotion cycle. Everyone in the office knew this dinner

was the final test.

“Relax, baby,” Arun said, coming up behind her and kissing the side of her neck. “You look breathtaking. Just smile and be your sweet self. He’ll

love you.”

Latha gave a nervous laugh. “I just don’t want to embarrass you.”

“You could never,” he whispered, though she noticed his fingers trembled slightly when he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

They arrived at 8:15 PM. The farmhouse was modern-minimalist — glass walls, black marble floors, mood lighting that made everything look

expensive and dangerous. Only six other couples were there, all senior people from Arun’s division. Vikram greeted them at the door.

He was taller than Latha remembered from the company family day — easily 6'2", broad-shouldered, salt-and-pepper hair, and the kind of quiet

confidence that made people lower their voices when he entered a room. Forty-five, divorced, known to work out obsessively. His eyes lingered

on Latha exactly two seconds longer than necessary.

“Arun, you’ve been hiding this beautiful wife from me,” he said, voice low and amused. He took Latha’s hand, brushed his lips across her knuckles

instead of shaking. “Welcome, Latha ji.”

She blushed instantly. “Thank you, sir.”

“Vikram,” he corrected gently. “No ‘sir’ tonight.”

Dinner was exquisite, wine flowed freely. Conversation stayed light until the other guests slowly drifted toward the outdoor pool area, leaving just

the three of them at the long teak table. Arun’s face had grown flushed — from alcohol, nerves, or both.

Vikram leaned back in his chair, swirling the last of his red wine.

“Arun tells me you two are trying for a baby,” he said casually.

Latha’s eyes widened. She hadn’t expected that topic.

Arun cleared his throat. “We… yes, we’ve been trying for a few months.”

Vikram’s gaze moved to Latha’s midriff, then slowly rose to her face. “And how is that going?”

She swallowed. “Not yet.”


A long silence. Then Vikram smiled — not kindly.

“Sometimes a woman needs… stronger motivation.” He looked straight at Arun. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Arun’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He didn’t answer.

Vikram stood. “Come. Let’s talk somewhere quieter.”

He led them to a private sitting room on the first floor — all black leather, dim amber lights, a massive glass window overlooking the dark garden.

He closed the door. The click of the lock sounded very loud.


“Sit,” he told Latha, pointing to the wide ottoman in the center.

She obeyed, heart hammering.

Vikram poured three glasses of single malt, handed one to each of them.

“Arun,” he said pleasantly, “you’ve been an excellent manager. Numbers are outstanding. But the director position requires… total loyalty. Total

commitment. You understand that, don’t you?”

Arun nodded jerkily.


Vikram turned to Latha. “And you, sweetheart… do you understand what total commitment looks like?”

Her voice was barely a whisper. “I… I think so.”

He stepped closer until he stood directly in front of her knees. Slowly he reached down, caught the end of her pallu, and drew it away from her

shoulder. The silk slid like water. Her blouse was low-cut; the upper swell of her breasts rose and fell rapidly.

“Beautiful,” he murmured.

Arun made a small sound — half moan, half sob.

Vikram didn’t even glance at him. He sank to one knee so his face was level with Latha’s. His fingers traced the edge of her blouse, then slipped

the first hook free.

.
“Tell your husband to watch carefully,” he said to her. “This is how promotions are really earned.”

Latha’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t look away from Arun. “Watch me, Arun,” she whispered. “Please.”

Vikram opened the rest of the hooks with deliberate patience. When the blouse fell open he pushed the cups of her bra down, exposing her

nipples to the cool air. They were already hard.


He leaned in and took one into his mouth — slow, deep pulls that made Latha gasp and arch. His hand kneaded the other breast possessively.

Arun was gripping the armrests so hard his knuckles were white.

Vikram stood again, unbuckled his belt with unhurried movements. When he freed himself, Latha’s eyes widened. He was thick, heavy, already

leaking at the tip.


“On your knees, darling,” he said softly.

She slid off the ottoman, knelt between his legs. Her hands shook as she wrapped her fingers around him. He was hot, velvet-steel.

“Look at your husband while you taste me,” Vikram ordered.

Latha turned her head. Arun’s eyes were glassy, his breathing ragged. She held eye contact as she parted her lips and took the head into her mouth.

Vikram groaned low in his throat. “Good girl.”

He let her work him slowly at first — tentative licks, gentle sucking — then threaded his fingers into her hair and pushed deeper. She gagged softly

the first time he hit the back of her throat, but he didn’t relent. He fucked her mouth with measured strokes while she whimpered around him.

After several long minutes he pulled out, glistening with her saliva.


“On your back,” he said. “Legs open.”

Latha lay back on the ottoman. Vikram hooked his fingers into her petticoat drawstring and yanked. The fabric parted. He dragged her panties

down her thighs, leaving them tangled around one ankle.

He knelt between her spread legs, rubbed the fat head of his cock along her slit. She was soaked — embarrassingly so.

“You want this, don’t you?” he asked.

She nodded, tears slipping down her temples. “Yes…”

“Tell your husband.”

Latha looked at Arun. Her voice cracked. “I want it, Arun… I want him inside me.”

Vikram pushed forward in one long, relentless thrust.

Latha cried out — sharp, startled. He was much thicker than Arun. The stretch burned sweetly. He didn’t pause, just kept sinking until his hips met

hers and he was buried to the root.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “So tight.”

He began to move — slow, punishingly deep strokes that dragged against every sensitive spot inside her. Latha’s hands flew to his shoulders, nails

digging in. Her moans turned high and broken.


Vikram leaned down, kissed her hard — possessive, claiming. His tongue fucked into her mouth the same way his cock fucked into her pussy.

Arun was openly crying now, but he hadn’t looked away once.

Vikram picked up speed. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the room. Latha’s breasts bounced with every thrust. She wrapped her legs around his
.
waist, heels digging into his lower back, silently begging for more.
“You’re going to come on my cock,” Vikram growled against her ear. “And you’re going to thank me when you do.”
He changed the angle, grinding against her clit with every stroke. Latha’s eyes rolled back.
“I’m— oh god — I’m close—”
“Come,” he commanded.
She shattered — back arching off the ottoman, a keening wail tearing from her throat. Her walls clamped down so hard Vikram cursed under his breath.

He didn’t stop. He fucked her through the aftershocks, harder, faster, chasing his own release.

“Where do you want it?” he rasped.

Latha’s voice was wrecked. “Inside… please… inside me…”

Arun made a strangled sound.

Vikram slammed deep one last time and erupted — hot, thick pulses that flooded her. He kept grinding slowly, milking every drop into her spasming cunt.

When he finally pulled out, a thick trickle of white followed, dripping down onto the leather.

He stood, tucked himself away, and looked at Arun.

“Congratulations,” he said calmly. “The director position is yours. Effective Monday.”

Arun stared at his wife — flushed, trembling, legs still spread, cum leaking from her swollen pussy.

Latha reached out a shaking hand toward her husband.

Arun crossed the room in three steps, dropped to his knees between her thighs, and buried his face against her dripping center — licking, sucking,

cleaning every trace of another man from her while she stroked his hair and whispered broken apologies and words of love.

Vikram watched for a moment, then walked to the door.

“Next quarter’s target is twenty percent higher,” he said over his shoulder. “I expect the same level of… dedication.”
The door clicked shut behind him.
Latha pulled Arun up, kissed him with the taste of both men on her tongue.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Arun shook his head, eyes shining. “Don’t be.”
And in that dark, expensive room, with the scent of sex still thick in the air, something new and irreversible settled between them.
The end.

[Pvzro]

Extremely great story nice way of putting your thoughts ,only thing keep the pace of the story slow everything went quickly no way seen that it looked liked compromise 

Keep featuring new stories and continue this story ahead also with  the exploitation continues

Will also ping u on telegram 

Keep posting new stories of shy wife taken 

[Pvzro]

Ping your telegram ID

[Deepika2021]

Great narration, pls continue

[gvsubu1995]

Great narration, pls continue

Thank you

[gvsubu1995]

Extremely great story nice way of putting your thoughts ,only thing keep the pace of the story slow everything went quickly no way seen that it looked liked compromise 

Keep featuring new stories and continue this story ahead also with  the exploitation continues

Will also ping u on telegram 

Keep posting new stories of shy wife taken 

Thanky
You

[gvsubu1995]

Three months had passed since that night at the farmhouse.

Arun's new title—Regional Director—came with a corner office, a company car, and a salary bump that let

them upgrade their apartment to something with actual windows facing south instead of a damp wall. On

paper, everything looked perfect. At home, though, the air felt thicker, charged. They fucked more often now,

harder, but it was different. Arun would bury himself inside Latha while she whispered details she hadn't

shared before: how Vikram's thickness had stretched her entrance, how his balls had slapped wetly against

her ass, how full she'd felt when he came. Arun always finished faster after those confessions, spilling into her

with a groan that sounded half like relief, half like surrender.

Latha had stopped taking her birth control the day after the promotion was announced. Neither of them S. poke about it directly. But she noticed Arun's eyes linger on her belly sometimes, a mix of hunger and fear.



Then the message arrived.

A simple text from an unknown number at 10:47 PM on a Thursday:


"Vikram. My place. Saturday 8 PM. Black saree. No bra. Bring your husband. Targets are up. Dedication.
required."

Latha showed Arun immediately. His cock twitched visibly through his pajamas before he even finished

reading. And they both got excited after reading. And they start that place


They arrived early.

Vikram's city penthouse was on the 32nd floor—floor-to-ceiling glass, city lights glittering like scattered

diamonds below. He opened the door in a charcoal shirt with the top three buttons undone, sleeves rolled to

show corded forearms. No tie. No pretense.

"Latha," he said, voice like dark honey. His eyes swept her from the gold jhumkas in her ears down to the

black silk saree that hugged her like a second skin. The pallu was already slipping slightly, revealing the deep

valley between her breasts. "You remembered."

She nodded, throat dry.

He looked at Arun next. "Director. Good to see you adapting."

Arun managed a tight smile. "Sir."

"Vikram," he corrected again, same gentle menace as before. "Inside."

The living room was sparse, masculine—low black leather sectional, a single low table with a decanter of

amber liquid and three glasses already poured. Soft jazz played from hidden speakers. One wall was entirely

glass, the city sprawling beneath them like a toy set.

Vikram handed them drinks. "Sit."

Latha perched on the edge of the sectional. Arun stood behind her like a guard who knew he was useless.

Vikram remained standing. He swirled his glass, studying them.

"Twenty percent," he said. "That's the new bar. My board wants aggressive growth. That means longer hours,

higher risk, complete… availability." His gaze settled on Latha. "I expect the same from my inner circle."

He set his glass down.

"Latha, stand."

She rose smoothly, saree whispering against her thighs.

He stepped close enough that she could smell his cologne—sandalwood, smoke, power. One finger traced

the edge of her pallu where it dbangd over her left breast.

"Take it off. Slowly."

Her fingers trembled only slightly as she unpinned the pallu. The silk slid away from her shoulder, baring the

deep neckline of her blouse. No bra, as instructed. Her nipples were already peaked, dark points pressing

against the thin fabric.

Vikram's knuckle grazed one nipple through the silk. Latha sucked in a breath.

"Beautiful as ever." He looked at Arun. "Undress her properly. Show me how much you appreciate what I gave you."


Arun stepped forward. His hands shook as he reached for the hooks of her blouse. One by one they opened.

When the fabric parted he pushed it off her shoulders, letting it pool at her elbows. Her breasts spilled free—

heavy, full, nipples tight from the cool air and anticipation.


Vikram cupped one breast, thumb circling the areola. "These have gotten fuller," he observed. "Trying harder

now?"

Latha bit her lip. "Yes."

He pinched the nipple—sharp enough to make her gasp. "Good."

He turned to Arun. "Petticoat. Panties. Everything."

Arun knelt. He untied the drawstring with practiced movements now, tugged the petticoat down her hips.

The black lace panties followed, sticking slightly where she was already wet. Vikram watched every inch

revealed: the soft curve of her belly, the trimmed triangle of hair above her slit, the glistening inner thighs.

Naked except for the gold jewelry and heels, Latha stood trembling.

Vikram circled her slowly, like appraising art. He stopped behind her, pressed his clothed body to her back.

She felt his erection—thick, insistent—against the small of her back.

"Arun," he said conversationally, "strip. Then sit there." He pointed to the armchair across from the sectional.

"Watch. And don't touch yourself until I say."

Arun obeyed quickly. Naked, his cock stood rigid, smaller than Vikram's but painfully hard. He sat, hands

gripping the armrests.

Vikram guided Latha to the sectional. He sat, legs spread, and pulled her onto his lap facing him. Her knees

straddled his thighs. The saree was long gone now; only jewelry remained.

He kissed her—slow at first, then deeper, tongue claiming her mouth while one hand kneaded her ass, the

other rolled a nipple. Latha moaned into his mouth, hips rocking instinctively against the hard ridge beneath his trousers.

When he broke the kiss, her lips were swollen, eyes glassy.

"Open my belt," he told her.

Her fingers worked the buckle, the zipper. She freed him—thicker than she remembered, veins prominent,

head already slick. She wrapped both hands around him, stroking slowly.

Vikram groaned. "Tell your husband how much you've missed this."

Latha looked over her shoulder at Arun. His face was flushed, eyes locked on her hands.

"I've missed it," she whispered. "Every day. How full he makes me feel… how deep…"

Arun whimpered.

Vikram lifted her hips, positioned her. The head notched against her entrance—hot, blunt, demanding.

"Sink down," he ordered. "Show him."

She lowered herself inch by inch. The stretch was exquisite—burning, perfect. When her ass met his thighs

she cried out softly, head falling back.

Vikram gripped her waist, began to move her—up, down, slow rolls that ground her clit against his pubic

bone. Her breasts bounced gently with each descent.

"Fuck," he muttered. "Still so tight. Even after last time."

He sped up. Wet sounds filled the room—her arousal coating him, slicking every thrust. Latha braced her

hands on his shoulders, riding harder, chasing the pressure building low in her belly.

Vikram looked at Arun. "She's dripping on me. You see how greedy her cunt is for this?"

Arun nodded jerkily, cock leaking steadily onto his stomach.

Vikram flipped her suddenly—onto her back on the sectional, legs hooked over his arms. He drove back in,

deep, punishing strokes that made her breasts jiggle wildly. Her moans turned to sharp cries.

"Come for me," he growled. "Let him hear how much better I fuck you."

She shattered—back arching, walls pulsing, a keening wail tearing free. Vikram fucked her through it,

relentless.

When her spasms slowed he pulled out, cock gleaming.

"On your knees. Both of you."

Latha slid to the floor. Arun joined her instantly.

Vikram stood over them, stroking himself.

"Clean her off me first, Arun."

Arun leaned in without hesitation, tongue lapping along the shaft, tasting his wife's juices mixed with

Vikram's pre-cum. Vikram groaned, hand in Arun's hair.
"Good boy."

Then he turned to Latha. "Your turn. Suck."

She took him deep—cheeks hollowing, throat working. Vikram fucked her mouth steadily, balls tightening.

"Look at your husband," he rasped.

Latha locked eyes with Arun while Vikram used her throat.

When he was close he pulled out, aimed.

"Open."

Both mouths opened. Vikram came in thick ropes—first across Latha's tongue, then Arun's, painting their lips,

chins. Some landed on her breasts, dripping slowly.

He milked the last drops onto her waiting tongue.

"Swallow."

They did. Together.

Vikram tucked himself away, breathing steady.

"Next target is thirty percent," he said calmly. "And Latha…" He cupped her chin. "You're ovulating this

weekend. I checked your cycle app—you left it open on the guest tablet last time."
Her eyes widened.

He smiled. "I expect results. Both of you."

He walked to the glass wall, looking out over the city.

"Stay the night. Bedroom's down the hall. Fuck each other if you want. Or don't. But Monday morning, Arun, I

want quarterly projections on my desk by 9 AM. And Latha…" He glanced back. "Wear something red to the

office party next week. No panties."

The door to the master suite clicked shut behind him.

Latha and Arun remained on their knees a long moment, cum cooling on their skin, hearts pounding.

Arun reached for her first—pulled her into his lap right there on the floor. He kissed her desperately, tasting

Vikram on her tongue, on her lips.

He entered her in one thrust—slick, open, full of another man's seed already leaking out around him.

"I love you," he gasped against her neck.

She wrapped her legs around him, heels digging in.
"I love you too."

They fucked slowly this time—tender, raw, reclaiming. But both knew the truth settling deeper every day:

Some lines, once crossed, only got wider.

And neither wanted to step back.

To be continued... perhaps at the office party. Or when the test turns positive.