Previous Part: My Life Journey – Part- 1 (My Marriage)
Hello, I’m Rhea, and I want to share the true story of my life—my journey through pain, pleasure, and struggle. Read to understand the reality behind who I am today and the transformation I’ve gone through.
As you know, my life shifted from a girl to a woman. Despite having all the material happiness, I felt like in a cage and missing my real freedom. Loneliness started to haunt me.
One afternoon, I left the house and went to roam around the nearby street. I saw a nice Indian restaurant. I entered and ordered tea and samosa. In that restaurant, I met Akash, the waiter. He was 27, tall, fair-skinned, with an easy smile that disarmed me instantly.
It started with a simple conversation. For the first time in what felt like forever, I laughed freely—an uninhibited, joyful sound that felt strange and wonderful. I didn’t tell my husband about my little outings. I knew he would be furious. So, I kept it to myself, a private rebellion, a secret sliver of happiness.
Over the following weeks, I returned to Akash’s shop often. What began as casual chats turned into hours of companionship. One day, during one of our conversations, he mentioned nightclubs. I had only seen them in movies—places where people danced like the world didn’t exist beyond those walls.
The idea thrilled me and terrified me in equal measure. I told him I didn’t own anything appropriate for such an adventure. But Akash, ever resourceful, smiled and assured me he would take care of it. The weekend arrived, and I dressed in a beautiful silk sari.
When I met Akash, he had already arranged everything. His colleague had lent me a stunning club dress—a sleeveless golden one-piece. I changed the dress and found my bra coming out of the dress. The ladies told me not to put this type of bra in one piece.
I wear a dress without a bra that ends mid-thigh. The neckline reveals a teasing glimpse of cleavage, as I was not wearing a bra, leaving me both exhilarated and sexy. I paired it with sleek, knee-high boots. As I stood before the mirror, I barely recognized myself.
For the first time in years, I felt alive. Exposed, yes, but in a way that thrilled me. For a moment, I felt like a girl again, unburdened by the weight of my life, tasting freedom for the first time.
The other women we were going with wore outfits even bolder than mine. Tiny skirts exposing their panty and plunging necklines that left their tits exposed. Their confidence radiated, and they glowed with an almost intoxicating beauty.
They handed me a jar of smooth, shimmering cream, guiding my hands as I applied it to my skin. Their laughter and encouragement filled the room. They helped me touch up my hair and makeup.
“You look incredible, bitch” one of them said, her eyes gleaming as she turned to Akash. “Your lady is smokin’ hot. Hope you two have a night to remember.”
I felt a rush of heat at her words. I knew what she meant. But I was here as a friend, I reminded myself.
I wasn’t looking for anything more than a taste of the life I had been missing. And yet, as I caught Akash’s gaze, something inside me stirred. The warmth of his presence wrapped around me like a cocoon, steady and reassuring. Yet tinged with something electric.
My mind wrestled with my body, an internal war between desire and restraint. I craved adventure, freedom, and maybe even love. But I was terrified of the vulnerability that came with it. The fire of my desire burned quietly, a flame I couldn’t extinguish.
I feared what might happen if I gave in—if I let myself feel too deeply. Would my heart slip away, carried by the tide of his warmth and tenderness? At that moment, I made a decision. Perhaps it was the glow of the lights, the music vibrating in my chest, or the intoxicating way his gestures made me feel seen.
I whispered to myself, ‘Let’s see what happens. Let’s enjoy the moment, the night, the life that waits to be lived.’ The nightclub was a world unlike anything I had ever imagined. The loud music pulsed through my body. The dim lights cast a seductive glow over the space.
Couples danced intimately on the floor. Some are lost in their world of passion. I saw people kissing and holding each other in the corners as if nothing else mattered. For the first time in six months, I felt alive. Akash asked me to roll on the dance floor. I went, holding his hand.
I danced hesitantly at first, then freely, letting the music guide me. Akash stayed close, his presence comforting yet respectful. I forgot about Arjun and my suffocating marriage for a few hours. We danced, and he guided me. The music was loud, the lights swirling around us in a kaleidoscope of colours.
The crowd cheered wildly as we stepped onto the stage. I had always loved dancing. It made me feel alive, free, and untethered. But tonight was different. Tonight, Akash was with me. I was shaking my body with the loud blast. He held my waist and danced.
Sometimes his manly chest brushed my boobs. It was common during the dance, though it excited me some time. From the moment his hand found my waist, I felt something shift inside me, and my nipple got hard. His touch wasn’t just protective.
It was firm yet gentle, as if he silently told me, ‘I’ve got you.’ When a group of rowdy guys moved too close, he instinctively pulled me closer, shielding me with his presence. My crotch touches his dick, and I can feel his cock. I felt safe. But also, for the first time, aware of the electricity humming between us.
His hand lingered on my waist, a warmth spreading through me that had nothing to do with the stage lights or the crowd’s heat. He spun me around and guided me into the rhythm of the dance. I couldn’t help but notice how his fingers felt against my waist.
Slowly he moved his hand to my ass—strong, yet careful. He was exploring a boundary but didn’t dare cross it without my permission. The music intensified, and so did our movements. Our bodies pressed together as the music quickened. I did not care about the closeness.
I enjoyed it. His chest brushed against my tits and pressed over my tits. I felt a shiver run down my spine, my body responding in ways I hadn’t expected. His other hand found its way to my bare back. His fingertips traced invisible patterns that tinged my skin with anticipation.
He moved his hand up to my neck and started massaging my hair. I loved him for this act. I tried to focus on the dance, to match his movements and stay in rhythm. But his touch made it impossible to think of anything else. His hand moved lower, settling on my hip.
I noticed how he subtly guided me closer to him, our bodies moving as one.
The heat between us was undeniable, and with every step, every spin. I felt my desire awaken, an unfamiliar yet exhilarating sensation taking over me. I can feel an unknown sensation in my pussy.
My tits were stiffening under his chest. My breath was increasing. I could feel his breath against my neck, hot and shallow. If he, too, was caught in this moment, we hadn’t planned but couldn’t escape. My heart raced, not from the dance but from how his presence consumed me.
When the dance demanded a rotation, I found myself leaning against his chest, his arms steadying me effortlessly. I closed my eyes briefly, letting myself surrender to the moment, to the feeling of being held by him. My big ass brushed over his already hard cock. It was trying to tear my one piece.
He tried to move his cock over my ass on top of my clothes. I unknowingly moved my ass. He brought his hands over my abdomen and moved slowly and involuntarily. He slowly moved his one hand under my boobs and his other hand just above my pussy.
He was moving his thumb between my both tits. The little finger of his other hand over my pussy. I was feeling horny and wanted him to fuck me then and there. My husband was never able to excite me, even 1 per cent of Akash. I was in a state that if he asked my pussy, I would open up for him.
I felt my pussy getting wet. But the song ended, and the applause thundered around us. For a moment, it was just us. Our breathing was heavy, and our bodies were still close as if the music hadn’t stopped. Slowly, he let go, his hands lingering for a second longer than necessary before stepping back.
I opened my eyes and turned around to meet his gaze. The intensity there made my heart skip a beat. We walked back to our seats silently, the crowd’s noise fading into the background. I could still feel the imprint of his hands on my skin. The memory of his touch seared into me.
As I stood there, I couldn’t stop the small smile that played on my lips. My body was still buzzing, my heart still racing. I wondered if he felt it too—the magic of that dance, the connection that couldn’t be ignored. But I ignored it. He held my hand, and we went to our seat.
I saw his two female friends sitting and kissing. He told me they were lesbian. His other friend was looking for a guy on the dance floor for the night or maybe went with some guy. I was shocked, and he said it was common here. We sat for a while when the lesbian friend saw us.
They came to us and said we were waiting for you guys. She gave us a key to room no 208 and a packet of condoms. She told us, “You guys go and enjoy.” I was happy inside, but it was 11 pm, and I excused myself. I requested that he drop me off at home as my husband might come home in an hour.
We reached the restaurant. I changed my clothes and found my panty was wet. Then we had dinner, and he dropped me off at home. That night, as I returned home, my mind raced. The club had awakened something in me—a desire for freedom, joy, and a life beyond the confines of tradition and duty.
Akash had shown me what life could be. I wasn’t sure I could go back to the way things were. That night I wished I had let Akash cool the burning fire inside my pussy. My neck, tits, ass, pussy were already marked. My firm boobs were measured with his love, even through clothes, with fingers and hands.
There was room, and the condom was all arranged. What would have happened if I let him open my clothes? Missing the chance. I was so horny that I was ready to be banged by my husband. I was ready to get the pain and suffer but sad that he did not even touch me that day.
I was craving the touch. My body was craving a hard fuck. But there was no one to quench my awakened thirst. I was scolding Akash inside my heart to awaken my desire. He should have brought me to that room and should have fucked me hard, but he did nothing.
Can’t he be a man? So many thoughts came to my mind, and I slept. The next morning, as I stared at my reflection, I asked myself a question I had avoided for months: Was this the life I wanted? The answer was clear.
In the days after the club, I couldn’t shake the feelings that had awakened in me. A few days later, I tidied up the house. The routine that had once felt exciting now felt suffocating. My mind replayed the sights and sounds of the nightclub. The joy of dancing without judgment, the freedom I had tasted.
Arjun came home late that evening, reeking of alcohol. As I served him dinner, he barely acknowledged me, his eyes glued to his phone. For the first time, I didn’t feel anger or sadness—just indifference. I realized I didn’t want to spend my life as a shadow of myself.
Over the next few weeks, I began exploring more of the city on my own. I visited art galleries, parks, and libraries, immersing myself in the vibrancy of Canadian life. I watched couples laughing and holding hands. Though it stung, it also inspired me.
I started meeting Akash more often and found solace in his company. He listened to me, understood my struggles, and encouraged me to consider my happiness. He helped me buy dresses and makeup. I started grooming and being happy. But at the house, I wear the same sari and blouse.
One evening, Akash invited me to another outing, a late-night gathering with friends at a cosy rooftop café. I hesitated, fearing Arjun’s reaction. But a part of me longed for the connection I found in those moments. This time, I wore a simple dress, more conservative than my nightclub attire.
I joined Akash and his friends. The night was magical—soft laughter, meaningful conversations, and a breathtaking view of the city lights. For the first time, I shared my story, struggles, and dreams with strangers who listened without judgment.
Akash, sitting beside me, placed a comforting hand on mine. “Rhea,” Akash murmured, his voice a velvety caress, “you deserve to be happy. Life is too short to live it for others.” He reached out, his fingers brushing mine before taking my hand.
He began massaging it slowly—gentle, deliberate circles that sent sparks through my body. His touch was intoxicating, and the warmth of his palm against my skin was like a silent invitation. I shivered, the air between us growing heavier.
My voice trembled as I replied, “Akash, my heart longs to rest in your arms, to lose myself in you. But it can’t happen. I belong to someone else.” Tears welled in my eyes. Before I could stop them, they began streaming down my cheeks. Akash caught one with his fingertip, holding it like a fragile jewel.
Without hesitation, he brought it to his lips and drank it, his eyes locking with mine. “Even your pain is beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with longing.
A storm raged inside me.
There are two types of men, I thought. Men like my husband. They treat women like toys—dominating them, breaking them, and using them without care or tenderness. But collapsing in bed after a few selfish thrusts.
Then there are men like Akash, who make a woman feel like a goddess, cherished and desired. Make you feel like a queen in public, only to leave you breathless and undone. Bring her to her knees like a real bitch behind closed doors with nothing but a touch or a glance.
I was lost in my thoughts when I felt his hand move to the back of my head. His fingers threaded through my hair as he pulled me closer. His lips pressed softly against my forehead, lingering just long enough to send a ripple of heat through my body. My breath caught.
I closed my eyes, surrendering to the moment, unable to fight the pull of his presence. Before I could process what was happening, his fingers traced the line of my jaw, tilting my face upward. When he tilted my face toward him, I didn’t resist.
His lips met mine and brushed against my lips, testing, teasing until a quiet whimper escaped me. That sound broke something between us. He claimed my mouth, soft at first but soon grew into a deep, urgent kiss. His lips moved against mine with a hunger that left me breathless.
My hands moved on their own, sliding up into his hair and pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. His tongue swept against mine, sending waves of pleasure down my spine. I moaned softly into his mouth, my body pressing against his.
His hands roamed, gripping my waist before sliding down to my hips.
His hands moved to the centre of my ass. His finger brushed my ass crack, gripping my ass cheek firmly as he pulled me against him. I felt the heat of his arousal pressing into me, pooling low in my belly. My body reacted instinctively.
My hips grinding against him in a way that my pelvis pressed into his hard cock, making him groan deeply against my lips. The sound sent a bolt of electricity through me, and I felt my inhibitions melting.“Rhea,” he murmured against my lips, his breath hot and unsteady.
His hands slid up the bare skin of my back. His fingers dug into my skin as he pressed my tits tighter against his chest. Every touch, every movement, only fanned the flames inside me. The strength of his hold made me feel fragile and powerful all at once. My boobs pressed against his chest.
My nipple was brushing over my clothes and getting stiff. Every inch of my body burned with desire. My mind screamed to stop, but my body—my heart—betrayed me, melting into his touch. I want him to fuck me, penetrate me, and make me his woman.
I became so weak in his arm. My legs were unable to bear my weight. My heart was melting, and my desire was growing. I have never felt like this before. I want to enjoy the moment, the moment to stop for me. My head fell back as his lips left mine, trailing down the curve of my neck.
His teeth grazed my skin, and I gasped, arching into him. The fire in my body was undeniable. My mind was hazy with desire. I tugged at his hair and pulled his face back to mine. I kissed him with a desperation I didn’t know I possessed.
His hands wandered lower, gripping my hips firmly.
I pressed myself harder against him. My heart pounded wildly, my breath coming in short, frantic gasps. The tension between us climbed higher and higher. I could feel the raw desire in the way his fingers dug into my skin, in the way his body responded to mine.
Just as his lips moved to the curve of my neck, my phone buzzed loudly. The sound broke the spell, and we froze. Our breath mingled as we stared at each other, flushed and trembling. The heat of the moment evaporated as reality came crashing down around us.
I pulled away, my breathing ragged, and turned to look at the screen. The name on the display felt like a slap in the face: Arjun. The word I hate most, but I have to live with it. I controlled my emotions. I pressed a shaking hand to my lips, still tingling from Akash’s kiss.
His eyes searched mine, filled with something between longing and regret. But neither of us spoke. Slowly, I stepped back, picking up my phone as I turned away. I told him I was at my friend’s house. Like a loyal man, he dropped me home.
I wanted him to stop me even for half an hour and bang me. But he did not listen to my craving. Being a woman, I can not say to him, ‘Please fuck me,’ he should understand. But he is so honest. The ride home felt endless. I sat, maintaining distance on his bike.
But due to the speed breaker, I slid close to him, and I pressed my tits on his back. Till I reached home, I wanted him to stop his bike and fuck me in the open road, I was ready, but he was numb. Throughout the ride, his words echo, “You deserve to be happy.”
When I finally reached my bedroom, Arjun was already asleep. I stood there, staring at him for hours. My heart was heavy with realization. Lying beside him, the stark contrast between his cold indifference and Akash’s warmth became unbearable. I lay beside him, his snores filling the room.
Akash’s touch still burned on my skin. Akash triggered my desire every time but never cooled down my burning fire. He only knows how to ignite but not how to cool down. He only triggers and makes me crave. So, I decided to stop contact with him and continue my life.
Love wasn’t a word to be spoken or written. It wasn’t a concept to be understood. Love was a journey of the soul, an unstoppable current that swept you away the moment you surrendered to it. And as I lay there, staring at the ceiling, I knew one thing for certain: I couldn’t keep living this way.
The next morning, Arjun inquired about my outing. I said I was with my friend, and he got angry for not letting him know and scolded me badly. That day, I decided to stand on my own. I enrolled in a short-term course in digital marketing at a local college, using the savings I had secretly stashed away.
When I told Arjun, he was angry again. “Why do you need to study? You’re my wife! Your job is to take care of me and the house!” he yelled. For the first time, I stood my ground. “I want more from my life, Arjun. I can’t spend my days waiting for you to come home. I need to do this for myself.”
His anger simmered, but he didn’t stop me. I suspect he thought it was just a phase. The course became my escape, where I rediscovered my love for learning and met people who inspired me. Akash remained a constant support, encouraging me to push my boundaries.
He even helped me apply for part-time jobs. Months passed, and I began to change. I was no longer the timid girl who catered to her husband’s every whim. I had found a job at a small marketing firm and started dressing how I liked. I even began eating non-vegetarian food again.
Arjun noticed the change and grew increasingly distant. Our arguments became more frequent, and our intimacy, already sparse, disappeared entirely. What should I do: be his pet and follow him or always fight him?
If anyone wants to share their story or seek advice, don’t hesitate to contact me at [email protected].