Nithin, a 33-year-old software engineer from the bustling city of Kochi, Kerala, stared blankly at the lines of code on his computer screen. His mind was a tumult of thoughts, swirling like the monsoon rains outside his office window. His wife, Namitha, was the center of his world – a voluptuous beauty with curves that could make any man’s heart race. Her almond eyes and dark hair cascaded down her back, and her smile was a beacon of warmth in his otherwise mundane life. He often found himself lost in daydreams about her, her full breasts, and the way her sari hugged her generous hips.
Nithin and Namitha had been married for six years, their love a fiery dance of passion that had never truly cooled. Yet, their financial situation was precarious, and Nithin’s promotion had been stalled for far too long. His boss, a tall, stern man named Mr. Thomas, had hinted at the possibility of a promotion in exchange for… certain favors. Favors that Nithin had initially dismissed as office banter but had begun to suspect were more than just that.
One evening, as the scent of jasmine and rain-soaked earth filled the air, Namitha stormed into the house. Her eyes were ablaze with anger, and her plump cheeks were flushed a deep crimson. She slammed the door behind her, causing the picture frames on the wall to rattle.
“What’s wrong, darling?” Nithin asked, setting aside his laptop and rising from the couch.
“Your boss!” she spat out, her voice quivering. “He said something disgusting to me!”
Nithin’s stomach lurched. He had feared this moment might come. “What did he say, Namitha?”
Her eyes narrowed, and she took a deep, trembling breath. “He said if I… if I let him… you know, then he would make sure you get that promotion.” She looked at Nithin, her gaze a mix of anger and betrayal.
He approached her tentatively, reaching out to take her hand. “Namitha, I had no idea he would say something like that. I would never -”
“What did he say, exactly?” she interrupted, her voice rising.
Nithin hesitated, swallowed hard, and then spoke the words that had been echoing in his mind all day. “He said that if you were willing to… be with him, that our financial future would be secure. That he could help us.”
The room grew silent, save for the patter of rain against the windows. Namitha’s hand slipped from his grasp, and she stepped back, her body rigid with anger.
“Never,” she whispered, her eyes flashing. “I will never do that.”
Nithin nodded, his heart heavy with relief and dread. He knew the price of success in this world was often steep, but he had hoped it would never come to this. He had hoped Mr. Thomas had been joking, or that Namitha would never have to know. But now the beast had been unleashed, and he wasn’t sure how to tame it.
“I know it’s a lot to ask, but-”
“Ask?” she roared, cutting him off. “It’s not a question of asking! It’s about respect, Nithin! Don’t you dare bring that up again!”
With that, she turned and stomped up the stairs, her heavy footsteps shaking the house. Nithin felt a cold knot form in his stomach. He had never seen her so upset, so betrayed. He knew that he had to fix this, but how? The promotion meant everything to them.
Days passed, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. Namitha avoided eye contact and spoke in clipped tones, her usual warmth replaced by a frigid wall of anger. Nithin knew he had to act, but the thought of losing her love was too much to bear. He tried to focus on work, but every time he saw Mr. Thomas, the weight of his words crushed him anew.
The night of the international office party loomed closer, and with it, the inevitable confrontation. Nithin had hoped that Mr. Thomas would forget, that it was all just a terrible mistake. But as he donned his tuxedo and kissed Namitha goodbye, the knot in his stomach grew tighter. She looked stunning in her red sari, her ample breasts straining against the fabric, and her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
At the party, Mr. Thomas approached them, his eyes raking over Namitha’s body with a hunger that made Nithin’s skin crawl. “Good evening, Nithin,” he said, his voice like velvet over gravel. “I trust you’ve had a chance to consider my proposal?”
Nithin’s heart raced, but before he could respond, Namitha’s hand tightened on his arm. “I have,” she said, her voice icy. “And my answer is still no.”
Mr. Thomas’ smile never wavered, but Nithin saw the flicker of annoyance in his eyes. “Very well,” he said. “Let’s not spoil the evening. But remember, Nithin, the offer still stands.”
The party was a blur of faces and forced smiles, the air thick with the scent of desperation and ambition. Nithin felt like a puppet on a string, dancing to the tune of his boss’s whims. And Namitha, his beautiful, fiery Namitha, seemed to shrink beside him, her spirit doused by the cold reality of the situation.
As the night grew later and the guests grew tipsier, Mr. Thomas’ patience waned. He cornered Nithin in a dimly lit hallway, his breath heavy with alcohol. “You’re a fool,” he sneered. “Do you really think you can refuse me?”
Nithin’s fists clenched at his sides, but before he could respond, Mr. Thomas’ hand was on Namitha’s elbow, pulling her away. “Let’s go somewhere more private,” he said, his voice a low growl.
Nithin watched in horror as his boss led his wife away, her eyes wide with fear and anger. He knew he had to stop this, had to protect her, but his legs felt like lead. The sounds of the party grew distant as he followed them, his mind racing with thoughts of what was happening, what he could do.
The door to the executive suite clicked shut, and the world outside disappeared. Nithin took a deep breath and prepared to face the beast that threatened to tear his world apart.
He hurried to the nearest window, his heart racing. Through the glass, he could see into the dimly lit room where his boss had taken Namitha. His hands trembled as he peered inside, his stomach churning.
Namitha’s red sari was a vivid splash of color against the mahogany furniture. She stood defiant, her hands on her hips, her eyes flashing with anger. Mr. Thomas loomed over her, his large frame casting a shadow that seemed to swallow the room. Nithin’s chest tightened as he watched his wife’s chest rise and fall with each ragged breath she took.
The rain had stopped, leaving the window smeared with misty condensation. Nithin wiped it away, not wanting to miss a single moment of what was unfolding. Mr. Thomas’ hand reached out and grabbed a fistful of Namitha’s hair, yanking her head back. She gasped, her eyes squeezing shut, and Nithin’s rage grew.
He watched, powerless, as his boss’s lips crushed against Namitha’s, her body stiff with resistance. Her hands pushed against Mr. Thomas’ chest, but he was too strong. Nithin’s fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He wanted to storm in, to pull the man away from his wife, but fear held him back.
Mr. Thomas’ hands roamed down Namitha’s body, cupping her breasts, squeezing them roughly. She whimpered, and Nithin felt a tear slide down his cheek. The sight of his wife’s body being violated was more than he could bear.
The sound of fabric tearing pierced the air, and Nithin’s stomach plummeted. Mr. Thomas had torn open Namitha’s sari, exposing her creamy flesh to the cold air. Her bra and panties were next, tossed aside like discarded wrappers.
The room grew hazy with his tears, and Nithin’s mind screamed for him to do something, anything. But his legs remained rooted to the spot, his body a prison of his own cowardice. He watched as Mr. Thomas pushed Namitha down onto the desk, her naked body glistening in the soft light.
The older man’s mouth descended to her ample breasts, his tongue flicking over her nipples. She writhed beneath him, her hands now pushing at his shoulders in a desperate attempt to break free. But Mr. Thomas was relentless, his hunger for power and conquest evident in every move he made. He took one of her nipples between his teeth, biting down gently, and she let out a muffled cry.
Nithin’s body was torn between the urge to rush in and the morbid fascination that held him in place. He couldn’t tear his eyes away as Mr. Thomas’ hand slid down to her thighs, pushing them apart. His thumb brushed against her clit, and she jolted, her eyes flying open to meet Nithin’s through the window. Her gaze was a silent scream, a plea for him to save her, but he remained frozen.
Mr. Thomas leaned back, his eyes raking over her exposed body with a hunger that was almost feral. He reached down and unbuckled his belt, his pants falling to the floor to reveal his erect member. It was a grotesque sight, a stark contrast to the beauty of his wife. Nithin’s chest constricted as he watched Mr. Thomas guide himself to Namitha’s mouth, pushing into her with a brutal force. She gagged, her eyes watering, but the man didn’t stop. He held her head in place, pumping in and out, his hips thrusting as he used her mouth like a toy.
Nithin’s mind was a maelstrom of conflicting emotions – shame, anger, arousal. He had never seen his wife like this, so vulnerable and desperate, and it was a sight that both disgusted and excited him. He knew he should look away, should run to her rescue, but he couldn’t. He was transfixed by the depraved scene playing out before him.
The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, punctuated by Namitha’s muffled whimpers. Nithin could see the reflection of his own wide-eyed shock in the glass, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away. It was as if he was watching a stranger, a woman he didn’t know, but one who was more beautiful and alluring than he could have ever imagined.
“More,” Namitha murmured to her reflection, her voice a seductive purr. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes still locked with Nithin’s. Her hand moved faster, her hips swaying in time with the rhythm she had set.
Mr. Thomas, seemingly forgotten in the wake of her newfound desire, stepped closer to her. His hand reached out and grabbed her ass, squeezing it roughly. “You’re mine now,” he said, his voice thick with lust.
Namitha’s only response was to push back into his touch, her eyes never leaving the mirror. She spread her legs wider, giving Nithin a clear view of her glistening pussy. Her fingers slid in and out of herself, her juices coating her hand. “Harder,” she whispered, her breath hitching.
Mr. Thomas complied, his hand coming down hard on her ass with a smack that made Nithin flinch. Namitha moaned, her head thrown back as she rode the wave of pleasure. Her orgasm built quickly, her body tensing as she approached the peak.
Nithin watched, his own erection straining against his pants, as his boss claimed her again. The sight of Namitha begging for more was like nothing he had ever seen before. It was as if the anger and betrayal had been replaced by a carnality that was both terrifying and exhilarating.
When Mr. Thomas finally pulled out of her, Nithin’s breath caught in his throat. The head of his boss’ cock was red and swollen, and Nithin knew he was ready for another round. But Namitha had other ideas.
“I want more,” she breathed, turning to face the mirror fully. She looked over her shoulder at Nithin, her eyes hooded with desire. “I want you to watch as he takes my ass, Nithin. I want you to see what you’ve given me.”
Nithin felt a jolt of excitement and fear as Mr. Thomas moved behind her, his cock poised at the entrance to her untouched hole. Namitha looked back at him, her eyes daring him to look away. But he couldn’t. He was too entranced by the sight of his wife’s body, so open and willing for another man’s use.
Mr. Thomas pushed inside her with a groan, the sound echoing through the room. Nithin could see the strain on Namitha’s face as she took his thickness, her muscles clenching around him. She gripped the desk, her knuckles white, as the older man began to pump into her with a fervor that was almost animalistic.
Her eyes never left Nithin’s as she whispered, “See what you’ve done to me? I’m his now.”
The words sent a shiver down Nithin’s spine. He felt a strange mix of anger, jealousy, and arousal, watching his wife being taken so roughly. But there was something else there, something darker, something that whispered in the back of his mind, urging him to embrace this new reality.
The sight of Mr. Thomas’ cock disappearing into Namitha’s ass was like nothing Nithin had ever seen. The thought of his boss being the first to claim that part of her should have disgusted him, but instead, it filled him with a strange sense of excitement. He watched, his heart racing, as his boss’ hips slapped against her round cheeks, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure through her body.
Namitha’s cries grew louder, her voice a symphony of pain and pleasure that seemed to resonate within Nithin’s very soul. He knew he should stop this, should save her from this humiliation, but instead, he found himself reaching down to adjust his own erection, his hand moving in time with the rhythm of Mr. Thomas’ thrusts.
This was the moment Nithin knew his life had changed forever. The lines between love, lust, and betrayal had blurred beyond recognition, leaving only the stark reality of his wife’s body being used by another man for their financial gain. And as Namitha screamed out her pleasure, he realized with a sinking feeling that he was watching his own fantasy unfold before his eyes.
He had always imagined her with other men, had always wondered what it would be like to see her writhing in pleasure under someone else’s touch. And now, here it was, playing out before him in the most unexpected and twisted way possible.
“More,” Namitha breathed, her eyes glazed with a mix of passion and challenge. “I want more.”
Mr. Thomas chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down Nithin’s spine. “You’re a greedy little thing, aren’t you?”
Nithin’s hand moved of its own accord, his palm cupping his erection through the fabric of his pants. He couldn’t believe what he was watching, what he was feeling. His mind was a whirlwind of confusion and arousal as he stroked himself in time with his boss’ thrusts into his wife.
Namitha’s body moved like a serpent, her hips rolling in a way that seemed to beckon Mr. Thomas deeper. “Yes,” she hissed, her voice a siren’s call. “Take me harder, make me scream.”
Mr. Thomas’ hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling her back onto him with a vicious snarl. “Is this what you want?” he demanded, his hips slamming into her with a force that had to be painful.
But Namitha only moaned, her eyes never leaving Nithin’s in the mirror. “Yes,” she panted. “More.”
Nithin felt his own orgasm building, the pressure in his balls growing with every second that passed. He was torn between the desire to rush in and claim her back and the strange, exhilarating thrill of watching her give herself so completely to another man.
“Please,” she begged, her voice hoarse. “More, I need more.”
Mr. Thomas’ strokes grew harder, faster, his breath coming in ragged pants. “You’re going to be mine,” he growled, his teeth bared. “Mine to use whenever I want.”
Nithin could see the desperation in Namitha’s eyes, the need for something she hadn’t even known she was missing. And as Mr. Thomas reached around to pinch her clit, she shattered, her body convulsing with the most intense orgasm of her life.
Her screams of pleasure pierced the air, the sound sending Nithin over the edge. He came hard, his knees buckling with the force of it. He leaned against the wall, panting, his hand still gripping his cock as he watched the aftermath of their bargain unfold.
Namitha’s body went limp, her head lolling back onto Mr. Thomas’ shoulder. The older man’s chest heaved with his own climax, his eyes glittering with triumph. “You see,” he murmured in her ear. “This is what you get when you play by my rules.”
Nithin knew that this was just the beginning, that the price of their financial security had just been paid in a way he had never imagined. And as he tucked his still-hard cock back into his pants and turned to leave, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had just lost his wife to a monster of his own creation.
Days turned into weeks, and the memory of that night haunted Nithin. He avoided Mr. Thomas at work, unable to meet his eyes without seeing the smug satisfaction that lurked there. But Namitha was different. She had changed in a way he couldn’t quite put his finger on. There was a new fire in her eyes, a defiance that seemed to grow with every passing day.
And then it happened. The day that changed everything. Namitha had missed her period, and the pregnancy test confirmed it – she was with child. Nithin felt a mix of emotions – joy at the thought of being a father, fear for his wife’s safety, and a dark, gnawing doubt that ate away at his soul. Was this truly his child, or had Mr. Thomas planted his seed without his knowledge?
Nithin knew he had to confront his boss, had to find out the truth. He approached Mr. Thomas’ office with a trembling hand, his heart racing like a wild animal in his chest. The door was open, and inside, he found Namitha, her belly already starting to swell with the child that would tie them all together in this twisted dance of power and desire.
Mr. Thomas looked up from his desk, a smug smile playing on his lips. “Ah, Nithin,” he said, his eyes flicking to Namitha. “I see congratulations are in order.”
Nithin’s eyes narrowed. “Is it mine?” he demanded, his voice hoarse.
Mr. Thomas leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving Namitha’s form. “Does it matter?” he asked, his smile growing wider. “You have what you wanted, don’t you? The promotion, the security. And she,” he gestured to Namitha, “she has what she craves – my attention.”
The words were like a slap in the face, and Nithin felt a white-hot rage building within him. But before he could say another word, Namitha stepped forward, her hand on her belly. “Yes,” she said, her voice steady. “This is our child, Nithin. And we will raise it together, no matter what it takes.”
Her eyes met his, and in that moment, Nithin knew that she had made her choice. Whether the child was his or Mr. Thomas’, she had embraced her role as a hotwife, a woman who would do anything to protect their future. And as much as it pained him to admit it, he was drawn to the power she now wielded, the control she had over them both.
The story didn’t end there. It was only the beginning of a new chapter in their lives, one filled with secrets, lust, and the dark undercurrents of a marriage pushed to its breaking point. And as Namitha’s belly grew larger, so too did the tension in the room, a constant reminder of the deal they had made and the price they had paid.
But even in the darkest moments, there was a spark of something else – a strange, twisted love that had been born from the ashes of their old life. A love that was fueled by the very betrayal that had torn them apart. Nithin didn’t know if he could ever forgive himself, or if Namitha could forgive him, but he knew one thing for sure – they were bound together now, forever entwined in this sordid tale of desire and deception.
And so they continued, living a lie wrapped in the guise of a happy family, their secret shared only by the three of them. But every night, as they lay in bed, Nithin would reach for Namitha, her body swollen with another man’s child, and he would whisper into her ear, “More,” unable to resist the siren’s call of the taboo. And she, in turn, would give him more of what he craved, her eyes gleaming with the same dark desire that had started it all.
As the months passed, Namitha’s belly grew larger, and the tension between them grew thicker. Nithin couldn’t help but wonder if he was truly the father of the child, or if Mr. Thomas had indeed planted his seed. The doubt ate away at him, fueling his own dark desires and twisted fantasies.
And then, one night, as they lay in bed, Namitha turned to him with a mischievous glint in her eye. “I have a surprise for you,” she whispered, her voice husky with desire.
Nithin’s heart skipped a beat as she reached under the bed and pulled out a small box. Inside, he found a pair of handcuffs and a blindfold. “What’s this?” he asked, his voice trembling with anticipation.
Namitha’s smile grew wider. “I want to play a game,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “A game of submission and control. Are you ready to play, Nithin?”
Nithin’s mind reeled as he looked at the handcuffs and blindfold. He knew that he was stepping into a world of darkness and desire, a world where the lines between love and lust were blurred beyond recognition. But he couldn’t resist the call of the taboo, the thrill of the unknown.
“Yes,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’m ready to play.”
And with that, they embarked on a journey of discovery and desire, a journey that would take them to the very limits of their sanity and their love. A journey that would change them forever, and one that would leave them questioning the true meaning of love, lust, and betrayal.