I never thought I’d do this. But when I found out my husband was fucking someone from his office, something inside me snapped.
I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I waited for the right time… and chose my devar.
He was younger. Always looking at me when I wore tight sarees. I knew he wanted me — and last night, I wanted him too.
My husband had just left on a “business trip.” I asked my devar to stay for dinner. I wore the same red saree I used on my suhaag raat — no blouse, just the petticoat below.
When he walked into the kitchen and saw my back open, he froze. I turned slowly and looked him in the eye.
“I know what your bhai has been doing,” I whispered. “But I want to feel like a woman tonight.”
I took his hand and led him to my bedroom — our bedroom. I pulled his pants down, and his lund was already hard.
I knelt in front of him and sucked him slowly. “Don’t think… just fuck me,” I said.
He pushed me on the bed, and in seconds, he was inside me. I gasped — not because it hurt, but because it had been so long since someone touched me with hunger.
He was rough. Animal. My choot was dripping. “Yes… harder!” I cried. “Give me what your bhai can’t.”
His hands were all over me. We fucked until I came twice — loud, wet, and shaking.
After, I looked him in the eyes.
“Now you know why your bhabhi smiles in the morning.”
