Building a community

Chapter 6: The Wife’s Return
Three days into our stay at Rohan’s sprawling South Delhi home, the routine had become intoxicating. Every morning I woke up in silk lingerie he’d bought for me. I spent the days fully dressed—dresses, heels, makeup, wig—cooking simple meals, lounging by the pool, or letting him bend me over wherever the mood struck. Rohan was insatiable, and so was I. The lace, the stockings, the feeling of being his secret girl made every touch electric.
On the fourth evening, the front door opened while I was on my knees in the living room, sucking Rohan slowly in a tight red cocktail dress. He didn’t stop me.
“Rohan?” a woman’s voice called out, surprised but not shocked.
I froze, but Rohan’s hand gently held the back of my head, keeping me in place for a moment longer before letting me pull off with a wet sound.
His wife, Priya, stood in the doorway with a small suitcase. She was elegant—mid-40s, sharp features, long dark hair, wearing a designer salwar kameez that accentuated her curves. She had returned early from Mumbai. Her eyes moved from Rohan’s exposed cock, glistening with my saliva, to me on my knees: fully made up, red dress hiked up to show the matching red lace thong and garter belt, stockings taut on my smooth thighs.
For a heartbeat, silence hung heavy.
Then Priya smiled—a slow, intrigued curve of her lips. “So this is what you’ve been up to while I was gone.”
Rohan chuckled, stroking my cheek. “Meet my new girl. She’s been very good for me.”
Priya set her bag down and walked closer, heels clicking on the marble. She tilted my chin up with one finger, studying my face. “Pretty,” she murmured. “And obedient, I see.”
My heart hammered with humiliation and arousal. Being seen like this—fully cross-dressed and caught servicing her husband—made me leak into the lace thong.
Rohan pulled me to my feet. “Bedroom,” he said simply. “Both of you.”

Chapter 7: Watched and Taken
Priya sat in the large armchair beside the bed, legs crossed, sipping a glass of wine Rohan had poured her. She had changed into a silk robe that fell open just enough to show she wore nothing underneath. Her eyes never left us.
Rohan had me on all fours on the bed, still in the red dress, thong pulled aside. He’d taken his time lubing me thoroughly, fingering me open while I moaned and pushed back, knowing she was watching every second.
“Look at her, Priya,” Rohan said, voice thick with lust. “See how she takes it.”
He pressed the head of his thick cock against my hole and pushed in slowly. I gasped loudly as he stretched me, the familiar burn turning into deep, toe-curling pleasure. Dressed like this, fully femme, with his wife watching, made everything more intense.
Priya’s breathing grew heavier. “Deeper,” she said softly. “Fuck your little slut properly.”
Rohan groaned and thrust all the way in, burying himself to the hilt. I cried out, gripping the sheets, my own cock straining hard against the front of the thong. He started fucking me with long, powerful strokes—pulling almost out and slamming back in—his balls slapping against me. The dress bunched around my waist, stockings framing my ass perfectly for him.
Priya stood up and came closer. She ran her fingers through my wig, then leaned down and kissed me deeply, tasting her husband on my tongue while Rohan continued pounding me. Her hand slipped under my dress and stroked me through the soaked lace.
“So eager,” she whispered against my lips. “You love being watched like this, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I moaned, voice breaking as Rohan hit that perfect spot inside me again and again.
Rohan’s pace quickened. He gripped my hips hard, fucking me with raw need. Priya kept stroking me in time with his thrusts. The sensation of being filled completely while dressed like a girl, watched and touched by his wife, pushed me over the edge first. I came hard into the red thong, shuddering and whimpering as my body clenched around Rohan.
He followed moments later, growling as he buried himself deep and unloaded inside me, pulse after pulse of hot cum filling me while his wife watched with dark, satisfied eyes.
When he finally pulled out, Priya leaned in and kissed my forehead gently.
“Welcome to the house,” she said. “I think you’ll be staying longer than two weeks.”
Rohan smiled down at me, still panting, and stroked my back.
“Good girl.”