After a demanding day at work, I returned home with a mixture of fatigue and anticipation for some personal time with my loving husband, Milan. Just as I had anticipated, the house was empty when I entered since both of my children were at summer camp under the watchful eye of their grandmother. 

Embracing the solitude, I locked the door behind me and proceeded to shed the remnants of the day's responsibilities. The hot and humid weather outside called for a soothing remedy, so I decided to indulge in a rejuvenating shower. Completely naked, I found myself appreciating the simplicity of the moment—a rare opportunity to be completely at ease and uninhibited. 

With the sweltering and humid conditions outside, the allure of the shower became irresistible. Without hesitation, I entered its soothing embrace. As the water cascaded down, its warmth enveloped me in a tender hug, slowly dissolving the stress in my body.

 A revitalizing wave of sensation coursed over my skin, and I savored the invigorating feeling as it washed across me. The sound of the water provided a calming backdrop, almost like a tranquil melody that drowned out the noise of the world outside. It was a moment of pure solace in the midst of a busy life.

 It had been quite a while since I found myself alone at home, with the knowledge that my husband would be joining me soon. I quickly rinsed myself off in the shower. Afterward, with a sense of freedom, I dressed in a sheer, see-through robe, embracing the comfort of being at home without the need for excessive cover-ups.

With a purposeful stride, I made myself a cup of coffee, the aroma filling the air and adding to the ambiance of the moment. I filled a cup for myself and paused to savor the tranquility that surrounded me. Taking my place on the staircase, I was filled with anticipation for my husband's impending arrival. My hair cascaded in gentle disarray, reflecting the laid-back ambiance of the evening. The mingling sense of longing for his return and the tranquil surroundings prompted me to deeply cherish these peaceful interludes amidst our frequently hectic lives.

I recently turned thirty-eight years old and am employed as a masseuse at a nearby massage parlor. It's a job that keeps me engaged and allows me to provide for my two wonderful children, Nidhi and Sourav. Nidhi just celebrated her fifth birthday last month, and it's incredible to see her growing up so quickly. Meanwhile, my nine-year-old son, Sourav, continuously keeps me engaged with his school commitments and limitless vitality.

 Since I am his second wife, I reside in the house of my sixty-one-year-old single mother with my children. This living arrangement provides us with a sense of comfort and a supportive environment, allowing me to concentrate on my work with the knowledge that my children are under the care of my mother. She has consistently been my source of strength, and her presence is truly a blessing as we navigate through the challenges of our daily lives.

Before marriage, Milan used to come to my massage parlor regularly. In the beginning, after my work shifts, we would meet up for coffee. A few days later, I started providing him with full-body massages, and eventually, it evolved into a hand job. On a certain occasion, Milan took me to a hotel, and there, we became involved in sexual activities. Some months later, I became pregnant, which led me to force Milan to marry me under the mutual consent of Jhuma.

Despite being married for nine years out of love, he has not legally separated from his first wife, Jhuma. He spends four days a week with her and their children, while during the weekends (from Friday to Sunday), he stays with our family. I began to adjust myself even though his love was shared, but after a certain point, everything drastically changed. As Jhuma grew more established, Milan began to care less and less about me.

So, it was an amazing opportunity for me to reconnect with my husband on a physical level while my children and their grandmother were away, and I must admit, it had been a while since we had shared such an intimate moment.

The context of having our home to ourselves, free from distractions and responsibilities, created an environment that not only rekindled my submissive nature and showed him I could do anything unconditionally to please him, even if I had to take another level of sexual pleasure to fulfill all of his dirty wishes, like being naked all day, crawling around the house, and giving him a blowjob from under the table while he ate dinner, which had been absent for some time.

With eager expectation, I began my wait. After a span of two hours, Milan returned home at around nine o'clock. I opened the gate, welcomed him inside, and inquired enthusiastically, “Hi babe, what took you so long?”

"After work, I headed to the market." He fibbed, extending a package of mutton, and inquired, “Why are you naked, and where are the children?”

“The kids are at the summer camp with Mum,” I mentioned.

"Oh, I see. Is that why you're strolling around the house naked like this?” he asked.

I couldn't help but uncontrollably blush at my own reflection. It struck me that I had never worn something so provocative while opening the gate. A mixture of excitement and apprehension welled up inside me. After inhaling a deep breath, I decided to fully embrace the moment, and I couldn't resist the urge to strike a playful pose. I asked Milan, "How do I look?"

“A whore!” Pushing me aside, Milan responded, then headed towards the washroom and went in.

I let out a sigh and stepped into the kitchen. Without wasting any time, I began washing the mutton and placed it into the pressure cooker. With the oven preheating, I devoted my attention to cooking. The aroma of culinary possibilities hung in the air as I prepared to cook some delicious mutton.

In the meantime, Milan had finished his shower. He walked into the dining room, and the soft hum of the television filled the room as he settled onto the couch, creating a cozy and inviting atmosphere.

With the culinary tasks underway, I poured the last remnants of coffee into a mug. At that moment, I decided to indulge in a brief interlude of personal freedom. I gracefully discarded my sheer robe, revealing my naked form, and walked over to Milan. I felt an unspoken connection between us. The dim lighting and the comforting ambiance seemed to amplify the intimacy of the moment. So, with a playful demeanor, I stood completely naked before him, holding a mug with both hands, and asked, "What would you like, baby, coffee or me?"

“What the fuck happened to your clothes?” Milan snatched the mug from my grasp very rudely.

“What the fuck happened to your clothes?” I mocked him playfully, then pivoted and strolled towards the kitchen. There, I snagged my apron and draped it over myself.

Around half an hour had passed since I had become engrossed in preparing a delicious meal for him. With potatoes and onions neatly cut, I had gathered the spices, ready to infuse them with the succulent mutton. My hands were poised, ready to blend the flour, an integral part of the culinary masterpiece I was crafting.

Suddenly I lost my rhythm as Milan made a surprise appearance in the kitchen. He carried his coffee mug with him, placing it carefully on the counter. His steps were quiet and deliberate, and he positioned himself behind me by the kitchen island.

Then, in a heartwarming and utterly unexpected gesture, Milan smacked me with force, noticing my bare, inviting figure with my fluffy ass and exposed bosom, leaving an imprint on his finger and causing my skin to sting. Following that, he leaned in close and asked with softly uttered words, "Is it mutton curry and parotta you're preparing?"

His presence and affectionate gesture transformed the ordinary into something truly special. I couldn't help but smile at the beautiful interruption and exclaim, "Ahhhhhh, you're being naughty!"

The warm breath brushed against my ear, causing me to close my eyes. Though I smiled, I feigned resistance. "Baby, please stop," I uttered, but my pleas fell on deaf ears. His hands continued their exploration, running along my thighs and finding their way under my apron.

“Please," I pleaded, my voice tinged with longing, "stop teasing me."

Milan retorted, "I'm famished, and waiting feels unbearable; this is taking forever."

“I'm sorry, I'm coming right up... ah ohh,” I moaned as he touched my clitoral region. The anticipation of sex had already saturated it.

“How much time?” Milan began to rub roughly.

“Uhhh…” My breath speeded up, and with my breaking voice, I replied, “Giv-e me... fifteen minutes more, ple-as-e.”

“Not more than a single second after that," he said as he shoved his two fingers inside my pussy.

“Oh fuck, please, baby, I’ll t-t-t-ry my best.” I somehow managed to speak by arching my right leg forward, lifting my heels in the air, standing on my toes to make way for easy access to my cunt, and pressing both hands on the bowl for support.

“How does it feel?” he asked when I closed my eyes one more time.

“Ohhhh! You dirty boy,” I said with my heavy voice, inhaling loudly.

“Don’t cum until you have my permission,” he demanded.

“Ohh, baby, I don’t think I can hold that long,” I said, biting my lips, my heartbeat racing away.

“I don’t care,” he explained.

“Oh, fuck you bastard, please don’t stop...” I screamed as my orgasm started to build inside me.

He continued to rub for a few more minutes until my pussy and uterus started to contract. But soon he stopped abruptly and removed his fingers.

I pleaded, “Nooo,” my body trembling as my climax was just a few seconds away.

He chuckled, “Well, you have your 15 minutes; I'm going to watch the game before having this delicious dinner.”

I opened her eyes. I don't like being teased, but this is the seventh time I have not had her orgasm this month. I sighed and stated, “You fucking disgusting piece of shit.”

Another chuckle quickly faded.

I focused intently on cooking, eager to prepare the meal quickly so that we could enjoy our dinner or, more importantly, my deeply unsatisfying, much-edged orgasm. Finally, after another half hour of cooking, the food was ready. We sat down together and enjoyed the meal. Once we finished eating, he excused himself and headed to the bedroom, leaving me to tidy up the table and take care of the dishes like a maid, which I happily finished.

Afterward, with the anticipation of sex, I wore black, alluring one-piece lingerie, gracefully letting my hair cascade freely. With a touch of light pink lip gloss and a makeup ensemble featuring eyeliner, mascara, and kajal, I exuded an irresistible allure. Spritzing Chanel-Allure-Homme perfume on my neck, wrists, and cleavage, I enhanced my enticing presence.

Knowing Milan's preferences, I selected my black platform stiletto heels with a three-inch lift. Entering the bedroom, I positioned myself by the doorway, casually leaning against the wall. A mix of anxious anticipation and a newfound allure enveloped me, akin to a shy bride in the early stages of marriage. My fingers delicately intertwined, and I playfully nibbled on my lip.

But my efforts proved futile, as I noticed Milan was already snoring away. With a sigh of frustration, I felt rather moronic and stood there, pondering what to do next. So, being disappointed, I quietly walked over and laid down next to him. Aroused and restless, I scrolled through my social news feed.

As the clock neared 1 a.m., I found myself restless and unable to sleep. In the quiet of the night, I felt a growing desire that I couldn't ignore. With a mixture of curiosity and longing, I made the decision that I would like to openly discuss sex with someone random online.

Seeking an outlet for these late-night desires, I explored a sex chat website. What struck me about this particular platform was that it didn't require any registrations or personal details. This anonymity provided a sense of freedom that I felt drawn to in that moment. However numerous eager individuals bombarded me with requests for photos, voice notes, and meetings only after two lines of conversation. Amidst it all, a message appeared on my screen that said, "Seeking an online sex partner? I'm content with no picture or voice exchange."

My pussy tingled mildly, and I replied, “Yes.”

“Your asl?”

“ASL?”

“Age, sex, location?”

“Thirty-eight, female, and Kolkata”

“Stats?”

“36dd-32-38”

“Umm… slut!”

“What?”

“I’d love to make you my online slut.”

“I see.”

“So unsatisfied, huh?”

“No. What the fuck is going on?”

“Cool, so what do you do, slut?”

"Do not address me in that manner!" I retorted.

At that point, I started to gently touch my clit with my fingers. However, I stopped abruptly and anticipated a reply that never arrived. Eventually, desperately longing for release, I decided to take the initiative. I typed, "Alright, I apologize. Feel free to call me anything you desire. By the way, I work as a masseur in a parlor."

After an additional fifteen minutes of waiting, he finally replied, "So, how many dicks have you massaged so far?"

“I don’t do that.” I clarified.

“Fine, Bye.” He threatened.

“Wait, I only unintentionally touched a few of my clients, but of course, I had given my husband a hand job before actually starting our marriage.” I reveled.

“Never again dare to lie in my face.” He warned.

“Sorry. I won’t.” I assured.

“So, will you be my online pet?” he proposed.

"I'll give it a shot," I attempted to persuade him.

"Absolutely not. You will follow each of my commands promptly and without hesitation, or I will not chat with you further," he commanded.

“Okay. I will obey your every command.” I agreed.

“Good, but you must now be punished in order to remember.” He typed.

“Punishment?” I asked.

“Yes. Get naked. And do you have any toys?” he inquired.

“Yes, three: a suction dildo, a couple of vibrators, and a comparatively tiny dildo.” Without hesitation, I replied.

“Oh, very unsatisfied; bring that tiny dildo and that vibrating device,” he ordered.

Although it was already two in the morning and my husband was peacefully asleep beside me, and even though I was well aware of having worked the following day, I decided to follow the stranger's instructions. Silently, I rose from the bed, took off the lingerie, and carefully collected my two toys out of my wardrobe. Nevertheless, rather than going back to our bedroom, I proceeded to my mother's room.

Given the ongoing heat outside and the tendency for people to wake up abruptly during summer nights to quench their thirst, I wished to avoid any possibility of my husband discovering me. As I lay down on her bed, a sense of assurance filled me, and I sent a message, stating, "I have them. Are you there?"

“Yes, you cheap slut, now shove them inside your filthy cunt and revolting asshole,” he ordered.

Each of those words was a slap in the face, embarrassing enough to make me stop, yet I did not. Instead, I did as I was told, turning on the vibrator I attached to my clit. It immediately began to buzz, giving me a sensation throughout my entire body. I then stuffed my tiny pink dildo into my anus. It didn't bother me because Milan had ass-fucked me numerous times before. I even gave him a blowjob by putting two dildos inside me at the same time. My heart began to race, and my long-ignored orgasm immediately began to develop.

“Answer, Slut.” A new message appeared.

“My apologies. I did,” I replied.

“Elaborate, you filthy, cum-hungry cock sucker.”

“I walked out of my bedroom, picked up my dildo and a vibrator, as you said, came to my mother’s empty room, shoved that dildo inside my asshole, and started the vibrator.” I typed with my trembling fingers.

“You fucking liar,”

“No, I’m not lying.”

“Prove it.”

“How?”

“You stupid cheap cunt, take a picture and send it to me.”

Despite the condition prohibiting photo sharing, I couldn't resist the temptation and snapped a selfie while strategically covering my bottom with a pillow towel. Lying on my stomach, it was easy for me to lift my right leg and capture the shot. Succumbing to my urge, I went ahead and sent the photo, even though my right cheek was partially visible in the picture.

“Such an eager whore.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, stop the vibrator.”

"What?" Just as I was on the brink of climax, the message appeared, demanding that I stop. I could have easily ignored the message and gotten the most amazing feeling in the world. but I reluctantly obeyed. Despite my strong and independent nature, I harbored deep sexual submissiveness.

"Just to clarify, I asked you to place them inside, not to start them, right?" he messaged.

“Oh! Sorry.” I apologized for not thoroughly checking it.

“Now you can’t cum.” He demanded.

"Oh, my goodness, no, please! I will do anything," I pleaded, my desperation evident as I yearned for cum.

“You’re a LIAR.”

"I swear to my children that I am willing to go to any lengths to bring you satisfaction." I fervently tried to convince him, seeking the strength to tackle whatever lay ahead.

“Fine, from now on, you're going to be my full-time online pet,” he ordered.

“I am willing to do anything,” I promised without even thinking about it.

“Good girl, now in doggie style, fuck your ass while turning that thing on until you cum.” He gave the order.

"I'm grateful," I replied, murmuring as I adjusted my position, raising my hips in the air with my knees close to my abdomen. My boobs were pressed against the bed, and I was glancing at my phone to keep track of the conversation. With my right hand, I reached for the vibrator, turned it on once again, and placed it on my clit, while with my other hand, I started pushing in and out that dildo inside my asshole. That time, I felt the vibrator begin to buzz like a warhead as I fucked my own ass furiously.

In a matter of seconds, I experienced an intense climax. After what seemed like an eternity, I finally reached satisfaction. Struggling to catch my breath, I grabbed her phone and managed to type, "That was the most intense orgasm I've ever had in my life."

“Excellent. Now, slut, I would like to see you naked. I am perfectly fine without a face.” He replied. I wasn’t anticipating that unexpected message at all. Since I was unfamiliar with the person, there were potential risks associated with sending pictures to him. There was a risk of harassment, or the possibility of the incident being shared on social media, making it even more unsettling. However, despite these concerns, I decided to respond with a seemingly nonchalant attitude, typing, "Sure, tomorrow after the shower, when my husband will be out."

"Instead of after the shower, how about this—I'd love to see some pictures of you taking a shower?" he playfully suggested.

"Okay, I’ll try,” I agreed.

“No trying; you'll comply because you must,” he asserted, attempting to exert more pressure and exploit the circumstances to his advantage.

Nevertheless, I overlooked the issue of cybercrime, and after agreeing to his request, both of us ended the conversation, and I logged out. Taking precautions, I ensured to delete my browsing history before peacefully drifting into sleep, unfazed by the necessity of wearing anything else.

As I woke up the next morning and stepped into the dining room naked, I noticed that the clock had already struck 9 a.m. It seemed that Milan had already set off for the day, leaving the house quiet and still. Realizing that I had overslept compared to my usual waking hour, I decided to swiftly remedy the situation by heading for a shower. Suddenly, a realization struck me—I needed to take some photos of that unknown person. Swiftly, I grabbed my phone along with my daughter's phone stand, the very one she employs for her imaginative reels, and stepped into the bathroom.

Upon entering the bathroom, I turned on my shower. Then I saw my naked reflection greet me from the mirror's surface. I instinctively stepped forward, enticed by the prospect of immortalizing both the ordinary and the remarkable. It was as if the mirror was inviting me to engage in a playful dance with my own image.

Embracing the spontaneity of the moment, I couldn't resist striking a pose. With a grin on my face and a sense of whimsy in my heart, I playfully snapped a photo, capturing the essence of the light-hearted mood that had enveloped me.

I moved my shampoo and oil bottles aside to clear space on the rack. After that, I placed the phone stand with a suction feature onto the rack. Once it was securely attached, I placed my phone on it and set the timer to capture the perfect shot.

All that was left was for me to strike a pose and nail the shot. So, I took a few steps back to get the right angle, but I misjudged the distance. As I posed elegantly, the unexpected happened. The hot water from the shower cascaded down and caught me completely off guard, leaving me wet from my front half down to my breasts and stomach. I couldn't help but giggle as the water playfully flowed down between my legs, giving me a rather unexpected tickle.

Feeling a shiver, I instinctively clenched my fist, and voila—goosebumps! All while maintaining a composed smile for the camera, of course. The timing couldn't have been more perfect for a snapshot that captured the moment beautifully. My radiant smile matched the playful dance of my clenched fist, and my breasts seemed to have a mind of their own, adding a certain allure to the scene.

I reached for my soap, but my grip wasn't as secure as I thought, and the soap slipped right out of my hand. It landed in the basin with a soft thud before taking a slightly slippery journey down and out of sight behind me.

I couldn't help but chuckle at this minor mishap—a comical twist in an otherwise ordinary moment. I turned around to retrieve the soap, planning to bend down and pick it up from where it had landed. As I positioned myself to lean forward, I heard an unexpected sound—my camera captured a photo, causing an abrupt surge within me and a momentary flutter of my heart. I realized that my bare ass was now clearly visible in the shot.

I gracefully picked up the soap, then took a step to pause the automatic click on my phone. Using the loofah, I lathered my entire body with soap, from my breasts to my flat belly and down to my cunt area. The creamy foam covered my whole body, creating a delightful tingle. Before long, I found myself submerged in a luxuriously slippery embrace of soap.

My fingers glided across the whole surface of my body. I caressed both of my ample tits, the nipples hardening against my palms as I considered how ideal they were for my structure. My left hand then ran towards my pussy through my thighs and groin area. Finally, the clit. I groaned and closed my eyes as my soapy fingers caressed my luscious, sensitive lips. I couldn’t help but let out a moan, “Ohhhh.”

All of a sudden, I realized the time and decided to wrap up my playtime. But I couldn't resist the urge to take another picture before leaving the shower. So, I swiftly leaned forward, tapped the selfie button on my phone, and then returned to my original posture. As the countdown began, I felt a momentary uncertainty about how to pose. With my right palm holding the loofah against my cleavage, I struggled to find a suitable position for my left hand in the photo. Meanwhile, most of the soap foam had disappeared, but I remained determined to capture the shot. Just as the timer expired, the photo was taken.

Unsatisfied with the previous picture, I decided to take another shot. I carefully set my loofah on the holder, activated the camera, and struck a dramatic pose, gracefully arching my back and delicately lifting my wet, perky breasts from both sides. With a confident click, I captured the moment. By this time, the soap foam had been washed off, enhancing the beauty of the shot. It was undoubtedly my best pose throughout the entire session, radiating a captivating allure.

Glancing at the clock and sensing a hint of urgency, I decided, "No more photos!"

I washed myself swiftly, dried off in a hurry, wrapped a towel around my body, and made a beeline for the kitchen to prepare my breakfast.

The realization of how late it had become dawned on me, prompting me to opt for a quick and simple meal. Consequently, I settled for a humble yet satisfying combination of buttered toast and a steaming cup of coffee.

After putting together my breakfast, I took a moment to unwind and get comfortable on the couch, allowing my towel to fall over my waist. Casually munching away, I embarked on a task that demanded my meticulous attention. With dedication, I cropped my face out of each photo, ensuring that I could not be recognized in the pictures before sharing them with my online dominant master. The process may have been time-consuming, but I securely cropped every image.

I revisited the website, and with a sense of determination, I logged in using the same username as before, fuelled by the anticipation of how I would find him. As the site's interface loaded, a feeling of both anxiety and excitement welled up within me.

To my immense relief, there he was—his username prominently displayed at the top of my contact list, indicating that he was online. Despite the subtle excitement coursing through my veins, I took a deep breath and focused on maintaining my composure. Biting my lips with a heart full of determination, I silenced any lingering hesitations and summoned my resolve. As my finger hovered over the keyboard, I clicked the "send" button with conviction.

In the following moments, time seemed to stand still. Every heartbeat echoed in the silence as I stared at the screen, eagerly waiting for any sign of a response. I was fully committed to my decision, and the weight of my actions settled upon me.

“Fuck! What a bitch you are,” he replied back shortly.

“Thank you.” I blushed; all of my hard work had paid off, and I took the dirty word as a compliment.

“I want to fuck your tits right now, what are you wearing now?” he asked.

"I am running behind schedule for work, and I am unsure about what to put on," I responded.

“Is that what I fucking asked?” he replied angrily, adding an enraged emoji.

"I apologize; I had just finished showering and wrapped a towel around myself, but unfortunately, it slipped off somehow." I tried to elaborate on my situation.

"So, does that imply you're currently naked?" He astutely grasped and inquired.

"Indeed," I unabashedly replied.

“You know that only sluts stay naked all the time?” He inquired, though it felt more like a humiliating slap than a genuine question.

“Yes,” I replied since his bad words were nectar-like.

"Are you headed to work now?" he inquired.

"Yes," I responded.

"Given that it's summer, you can be wearing something quite revealing today," he stated.

"Well, I've never experimented with such styles before," I answered sincerely.

"Well, that's precisely why you should give it a go now, do you happen to have anything made of leather?" he inquired.

"Yes, actually I bought this outfit a few months ago, hoping to impress my husband, but he wasn't fond of it," I confessed.

"Perfect! Show me what you've got. I want you to embrace life to the fullest, with a hint of naughtiness," he encouraged me.

“Okay, wait, let me wear that for you.” I agreed.

After about ten minutes, I returned to the couch, wearing my Yellcn-PU-Leather-Pencil-Mini-Bodycon dress with straps. The outfit accentuated my cleavage, but to add some modesty, I chose to keep her hair cascading down in front, using it as a shield to partially conceal my ample bosom while walking down the street. This was the first time I was about to wear such a daring dress in public, and the mere thought of wearing it to work sent a shiver down my spine.

Making myself comfortable on the couch, I nestled in, crossing my right leg over the left and resting both hands on the sides. Opting to seize the moment, I strategically placed my phone on the coffee table's edge and took a snapshot, immortalizing the confident choice I made with my attire.

"Here you go..." I messaged him, accompanied by a picture.

"Wow. You look incredibly provocative," he replied.

"Please! I can't wear that outside in public," I begged.

"Quit complaining, and why are you crossing your legs?" he inquired.

"I'm worried my panty will be visible," I answered.

"Even better, send me a picture in a standing posture," he ordered.

I admire the demeanour exhibited by an unfamiliar individual. A subtle sigh escaped my lips as I couldn't help but ponder why Milan, my husband, had never exhibited such a spirited interest before. Nevertheless, I quickly brushed aside those musings, determined not to let them linger. With a renewed sense of energy, I decided to shake off those introspective thoughts. Standing up, I leisurely walked to the front of my bedroom gate, feeling a playful spark within me. And so, with a light-hearted spirit, I struck a spontaneous pose before setting the selfie timer.

As the shutter clicked, I gracefully lifted my right leg and leaned gently against the wall, creating a striking and captivating image. After reviewing the photos, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the captured moment evoked a surge of confidence in the outfit I had chosen to wear. The photo highlighted my features in a way that accentuated my finely sculpted figure, particularly enhancing my silhouette.

As I looked at the image, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction with my choice of attire. It was as if the lens had captured not just an image but also a reflection of the confidence and allure, I was embracing at that very moment. I was pleased with the result, so I cropped the image and sent it off, feeling a sense of satisfaction with my choice.

"Whew, it's scorching in here, but I have a small request. If you don't mind, can you pull up your dress a bit and pose for me, highlighting your beautiful curvy ass?" he asked.

It was more of a polite appeal than a forceful demand, and I was more than willing to oblige. And this time with more enthusiasm, I set the timer once more, walking back and elegantly pulling my dress up to reveal my enticing ass cheeks. After turning around, I skilfully positioned myself, gently leaning forward against the wall, and with another click, a captivating shot was captured.

I re-entered the conversation and shared the photo I had taken.

"Wow, you look amazing! You should wear that outfit today," he suggested, followed by a daring remark, "Of course, without panties."

I was taken aback by the message and hesitated before responding, "I can't do that; it's too risky."

"We won't chat again unless you do it, and you know I'll find out if you lie," he asserted.

Although I could have ended it all right there, my inner curiosity and impulsiveness held me back from stopping what I had started.

"I'll do it, but I'm running extremely late now," I responded as I powered down my phone, ensuring no digital footprints remained by clearing my browser history once more. With a sense of urgency, I adjusted my outfit to perfection, even shedding an extra layer. The adrenaline was kicking in as I applied my makeup meticulously, striving for an impeccable appearance. And taking a bold step, I slipped off my panty, embracing the thrill of the unknown. And then, sliding on my stilettos, I took a deep breath, ready to embark on this adventure.

As I stepped outside, I couldn't help but notice the curious looks of numerous men on me. Their astonished stares seemed to follow me as I walked down the road. From various directions, their glances lingered, which initially made me feel a tad uneasy. It was as if I had become the center of attention without intending to. Their eyes fixed on my deep cleavage, admiring my alluring curves and mesmerizing ass.

At first, I have to admit, the attention was a bit overwhelming. Feeling the weight of all those eyes on me made me self-conscious, and I found myself wondering what might be causing this sudden interest. But as I continued on my path, something shifted within me.

I gradually realized that this unexpected attention presented an opportunity. Rather than letting it make me uncomfortable, I decided to embrace the moment and the confidence that was growing within me. It's funny how a situation that could have been unsettling ended up becoming a chance to challenge my own perceptions and reactions.

As I walked, I began to feel a newfound sense of empowerment. The attention that had initially made me feel exposed and uneasy started to transform into a boost of confidence. It was as if I was being reminded of my own strength and uniqueness. The whispers and glances that were once unsettling gradually became a reminder that I have the power to own any situation.

Usually, I walk to the Parlor, but since I was running late, I decided to take an autorickshaw. As I settled into an empty auto, I noticed the driver stealing glances at my bare pussy through his mirror. He couldn't help but bite his lips repeatedly, and his behaviour took an inappropriate turn as he began to stroke himself over his pants. Initially, I felt incredibly disturbed, but as time went on, I gradually grew more confident in revealing my naked pussy, first to the driver, and eventually, to the world.

At work, my provocative attire caught the attention of each of the six people I massaged. One of them couldn't resist giving me subtle squeezes, and one even left me an extra tip. As I performed my duties, I found myself trying to be more intimate, attempting to touch my customers' penises discreetly.

Throughout the day, I didn't call Milan at all; the thought simply didn't occur to me. My mind was preoccupied with the mysterious stranger and how I had obediently followed his explicit instructions. The memory of using toys, sharing pictures of myself naked in the shower, wearing revealing outfits in public, and engaging in last night's passionate encounter lingered in my mind, leaving me feeling exhilarated.

In the evening, after work, I finally arrived home, and the first thing I did was shed the clothing I had worn all day, which had felt quite constricting after hours of wear. There's something incredibly liberating about letting go of the constraints of tight attire.

After a long, refreshing shower that washed away the cares of the day, I made my way to my wardrobe and chose to embrace my most favourite outfit, which was a simple, well-worn t-shirt that never fails to bring me joy and a pair of shorts that feel like a cozy embrace. The softness of the fabric against my skin and the freedom of movement instantly lifted my spirits. In this moment of pure comfort, I decided to playfully style my hair into two casual ponytails. There's something oddly delightful about creating a carefree look that mirrors the relaxed atmosphere of the evening.

After a long day, I found solace in the simple act of preparing a cup of coffee. I took a moment to sit on the staircase, savouring the warmth of the beverage and enjoying a brief moment of tranquillity.

Surprisingly, Milan arrived home earlier than usual, around eight o'clock. I quickly shifted gears, deciding to cook dinner for both of us. We relished our meal together and engaged in pleasant conversation, and afterward, I tidied up the table and attended to the usual household chores. By the time everything was in order, I was left feeling quite exhausted and considering heading straight to bed.

Just as I was about to retreat to our bedroom, I noticed that Milan was still awake, engrossed in his smartphone. In a spontaneous decision, I took a chance and decided to explore a more intimate connection between us. Sneaking into my closet, I found a delicate, lace-trimmed, see-through one-piece outfit adorned with a charming flower print. I decided to slip into this outfit, hoping my alluring curves and ample tits, tightly fitted by the scanty laces, might add an element of surprise to our evening.

With a touch of nervous excitement, I approached the room and, with a smiling face, whispered, "Baby."

Milan, who looked up from his phone in pleasant surprise, seemed to catch the sight of me in the new attire, and it wasn't long before our evening took a different, more intimate direction. The dress I wore left little to the imagination, showcasing every curve of my body. "Well, someone is definitely in a good mood," Milan remarked.

"Do you like it?" I playfully posed, turning around to reveal my big, fluffy derrière, well aware that Milan had a thing for it and was now captivated by its alluring display.

“Fuck.” He moaned, and I realized his cock, which was progressively expanding inside his shorts.

I quickly knelt down and began to crawl like an obedient, submissive slut. As I sensually approached the bed, playfully swaying my hips and locking my eyes with his, he gracefully perched himself on the edge. I, drawn to the sight, made my way over, causing his five-inch hard cock to rise, which was teasingly dangling before me as I pulled down his shorts.

With a firm grasp on his shaft, I sensually licked it from its base to its tip before taking it into my mouth, not wasting any time. Meanwhile, for my own pleasure, I gently started caressing my clit with my other hand. Starting with slow, gentle sucks, I gradually increased the pace, skilfully moving my head up and down his shaft while tenderly stroking him to heighten his pleasure.

After a brief moment of engaging in deep throat, I took out his dick and pushed Milan aggressively onto the bed. By that moment, I had left behind my innocence and was in search of elusive pleasure. I had already removed my lingerie out of the way while fingering myself, which probably helped, as I simply climbed onto the bed and spread my legs apart. Carefully, I sat down, allowing his erect dick to slide smoothly inside my volcano, igniting a passionate connection between them. This caused us to moan in unison.

It was that unique moment when I leaned in closer to him and our lips gently intertwined. We shared a passionate kiss while I sensually moved my body, grinding my soaked pussy against his dick.

It had been quite some time since I had a real dick inside me, which I did not want to waste just like that. Usually, I am not a good rider and easily get fatigued after a little bit of bouncing. I enjoy being slammed in the doggy or roughly fucked in the missionary pose. But clearly, I could see those things were not going to happen with me soon, so breaking the kiss, I sat up by pushing my hands on his chest and began to bounce.

I started at a slow pace, but I knew he would not last long, so being desperate at the time, I kept banging myself. Each thrust struck my lower belly, and I felt so full that I bit my lips, and soon the sound of my ass against his thighs engulfed the entire room, if not the entire building.

His dick stiffened like a rock, and he grabbed my hair and said, “Fuck,” he grunted, “you're so hot, Sharmila.”

Listening, I just got fired up and tried to put more pressure on my bounce as I asked, “Does my babe enjoy her slut bouncing on his dick?”

“OH” he groaned, and he groped my frisked boobs.

“Ummm, Fuck, your cock feels so perfect in my cunt,” I moaned, biting her lips, orgasm building inside me as well.

“Fuck, Sharmila, I'm about to cum.” My husband warned me like a gentleman.

“Your cock was designed to fill me; deposit your cream inside my filthy cunt, Babe.” I lied and attempted to jump quicker and put more pressure on the bounce.

Within a few seconds, I felt warm seeds as he filled his cum within me. With the anticipation of reaching my climax, I kept bouncing and had no intention of stopping.

Although that did not work, soon he grabbed my ass, causing me to slow down. Feeling disappointed, I came to a halt and paused, allowing myself a moment to regain my breath. Eventually, I eased onto the bed, where I collapsed. Milan planted a gentle kiss on my forehead before shifting to the opposite side to sleep. As I continued to catch my breath, I looked at the ceiling for a brief period of time. Gradually, weariness overcame me, and I drifted into slumber.

The next morning, upon awakening, I observed something peculiar yet recognizable. Milan had once again disappeared without any indication. Therefore, I chose to access that adult website. Without delay, a message appeared, straightforwardly asking, "Where the fuck you were last night?"

The words conveyed a blend of irritation and inquisitiveness, catching me off guard due to the fervour of the question.

“Last night I had sex with my hubby.” I honestly answered with a blushing face emoji.

“Did you cum?” he oddly inquired.

“No!” I honestly replied.

“Why not?” he asked, clearly surprised.

“We both fell asleep after he finished within me,” I explained.

“I see. What are you wearing?” he asked.

“Lingerie only,” I responded.

"Let me see!" he commanded.

I elevated my boobs to a height that seemed appealing, snapped a selfie, and then forwarded it to him, flashing my adequate amount of deep cleavage.

“Fuck! You are such an eager whore, always ready to please.” He either complimented me or attempted to demean me.

"Thank you," I responded, interpreting it as a compliment and replying with a positive attitude.

“I’m stroking my cock right now. Get naked right now and send me a picture,” he commanded, surprising me with his unusual demand.

However, at that moment, I had no intention of refusing any of his requests, so I acted mindlessly, removing my lingerie while replicating the pose I struck for a selfie and then sending the image.

“That’s fucking hot; I wish I could fuck you right now in front of your husband.” He mentioned one of my most provocative fantasies.

“Oh Fuck!” I typed as the idea suddenly turned me on.

“Do you think your beloved husband will enjoy watching you pleading for my cock to fuck if I pound you standing behind your back?” he asked.

"I don't have the answer," I replied truthfully. At that moment, my mind was blank, and all I could hope for was the possibility of it becoming a reality in the near future.

“So, how about you? Would you mind if I treated you like a pet in front of your husband?” he asked as if he had somehow glimpsed into my thoughts and understood my perspective.

“I don’t know.” I lied.

"Liar!" he replied, just as he always did when he discovered my untruths.

"Please..." I pleaded, giving the impression that I wished for him to stop, yet deep down, I held no words, for a part of me might have desired that very occurrence.

“What, please? Please fuck me from behind while my husband keeps an eye on us. Or could you maybe let me bounce on your cock in front of my husband? Or could you please have me suck your cock in front of your entire family as they watch us?” he listed.

The nasty language made my pussy moist right away. I wanted to masturbate, but I felt it was necessary to seek approval from my newly online master. Therefore, I responded like a really obedient submissive by saying, "Kindly instruct me to finger myself.”

"Why?" he inquired, aiming to test my boundaries.

"I'm in a state of desperation and horniness," I replied.

"Why?" he reiterated.

“Your dirty word made me wet,” I replied.

“Wet, where?” he asked back.

“You know it.” I hesitated to utter such an improper word to someone I didn't know. Yet, by this point, it held no value whatsoever.

“Just tell me, you dumb slut,” he ordered.

“My pussy, my cunt, my hole,” I listed.

“You are horny and wet because you want to be fucked by someone you don’t know, in front of your husband?” He inquired with a clear intent to embarrass me and amplify my arousal.

“Fuck, yes.” I accepted.

“Say it,” he ordered.

“I want to be fucked by you while my husband watches us.” I've ultimately written down one of my fantasies, embracing my authentic submissive nature in order to please.

“You are filthy, cheap whore.” He replied.

“Yes, I want to be your whore.” I asked, aiming to make an impression on him.

“Bring that vibrator, slut.” He ordered.

“Okay.” Without a second thought, I hurriedly made my way to my closet, totally naked, while I secured my hair hastily with a rubber band to fetch my vibrator. The excitement of the moment seemed to override any concern for my appearance.

Upon retrieving my phone from the closet, I re-entered my bedroom and nearly tripped over the doorway. Once I had picked up my phone, I observed an unread message that stated, "I've created a bit of a mess that requires my attention. While you indulge in using your vibrator, avoid stuffing inside your dirty cunt with anything else, and instead, envision me lying beside you while your husband stands nearby, observing us both. Let's meet up after lunch."

I went through that message multiple times, my enthusiasm building as I envisioned the situation where my husband was watching me with another person. Feeling a surge of arousal, I took a seat in the bed's corner, leaned against the wall, and positioned a pillow behind me to enhance my comfort. Turning the vibrator on, I gently positioned it on my clit, biting her lip in anticipation of the climax. The sensations sent me into an intense orgasm that enveloped me within a minute.

I kept the vibrator against my pussy, gently squeezing my breasts with my other hand. Within a few minutes, my breathing became faster, and my hands began to shake. I found myself immersed in a realm of fantasies, envisioning all of those commands. Though unexpected, the sensation felt strangely perfect, fuelled by my naughty imagination, and I experienced an intense orgasm, making it the best pleasure I had felt with the vibrator. Afterward, I once again slipped into unconsciousness on the bed and took a naked nap during the daytime.

Since it was a lazy Sunday, I allowed myself the luxury of sleeping past noon. After finally rousing from my slumber, I kicked off the day by indulging in a refreshing shower and making sure my pearly whites were sparkling after a thorough teeth brushing session.

Following that, I decided to take on the role of chef for the day and whip up a delicious lunch for everyone. With the knowledge that my mother and kids would be returning from their summer camp later in the evening, I wanted to make sure everything was set for their homecoming. The anticipation of their return filled the air with excitement and warmth.

However, with everything prepared, I couldn't resist my temptation and logged into that adult website. It had become a bit of a guilty pleasure in the last couple of days. As much to my surprise, I noticed his name glowing in green, indicating that he was still online. Intrigued by his presence, I decided to take the chance and strike up a conversation for the last time. With a calm and graceful demeanour, I casually asked the question that can often lead to interesting conversations, "Have you had lunch?"

"Not just yet, but I certainly will—once I indulge in you," he playfully teased.

"Such a naughty," I replied in my playful tone.

"Did it captivate you?" he questioned.

"It was rather intense," I admitted.

"Interesting, by the way, what are you wearing right now?" he queried with curiosity.

"Just a T-shirt," I answered.

"Are you a slut?" he abruptly questioned, taking me by surprise.

"What? No! Why would you say that?" I retorted, feeling offended.

"Only sluts don't wear panties at home for easy access," he added.

"Oh! But I am wearing one," I clarified.

"Then why the fuck did you not mention it earlier?" he scolded.

"Oh, I am sorry; it slipped my mind," I apologized.

"You deserve a punishment," he declared assertively.

"I am ready for it," I said, trying to maintain a playful tone and be ready for whatever that entails.

"Bring that suction dildo you mentioned earlier," he commanded.

"Okay," I acquiesced, and I headed to my closet to retrieve the toy. Once I returned, I replied, "Yes, I brought it; are you there?"

“Yes, fit that into your martial bed,” he ordered.

“Oh my, okay.” I had a clear understanding of his inappropriate motives.

"Now get on all fours and start sucking my cock,” he commanded.

“But, at any given moment, my children will be at home with their grandmother,” I expressed my worry.

“Very good, then. Help me finish you off before they come home,” he typed.

“But...” prompting me to reply that, once again, my intention was clear, but I encountered a moment of hesitation.

"No buts, you must follow every order of mine," he emphasized.

"Okay," I asserted.

"And how about we have an uninterrupted performance over a video call?" he proposed.

I set my phone on the opposite side of the bed and arranged it in such a way that my face wouldn't be visible on the screen. I then positioned myself on all fours, sort of lowering myself well enough so that I could take that suction dildo inside my mouth. It’s hard to visualize something you haven’t seen in life, and I didn’t see his dick ever, so, to overcome this challenge, I started thinking about one of my recent clients whose dick I had touched while giving him a massage.

The whole scenario turned out to be quite unconventional, yet I started by licking that dildo thoroughly and sprinkling it with saliva before putting it in my mouth and sucking. I pushed that plastic dick all the way up to my throat while trying to inhale as much air as I could. Seeing my behavior, he moaned. That made me more excited, and I began to touch my clit as I kept sucking that dildo, imagining I was sucking his cock.

After a brief moment of sucking and fingering, he ordered, “Now, fuck yourself on that dildo slut.”

I swiftly shifted my position, assuming a posture similar to that of a dog. I pushed my panty aside, and the dildo smoothly penetrated inside me. The previous night, I had engaged in passionate, rough sex with my husband, leaving me with a lingering sense of excitement. Rather than bouncing like before, I awkwardly pushed myself back onto the dildo and moved forward, exploring a new rhythm and intensity.

The experience of an actual dick entering pussy is completely different from that of plastic, especially the warmth of a real dick. Real dick additionally generates a lovely upward spiral of pleasurable sensations. Yet at that point, I felt it was more pleasurable than any real one.

After a few minutes, my orgasm began to build again with the combination of clit rubbing and dildo thrusting. But all of a sudden, the doorbell rang abruptly, and I stopped in shock. By chance, he also caught the sound of the bell and observed me stopping. He commanded, "Stay right there; slut, until you cum for me.”

I should have put a stop to that, but instead, a sense of urgency overcame me as my orgasm approached an unusual peak. This prompted me to intensify my endeavours and respond with, "Okay."

The doorbell rang again. This time, I chose not to pay attention because I was preoccupied with fucking myself on that dildo. Nonetheless, it didn't take even a minute for me to realize I was on the verge of cum, so like an obedient slut, I thought to inform my master, and I groaned, "I'm about to cum."

“Cum for me, slut,” he permitted.

Before he could even complete his sentence, a powerful orgasm surged through me, causing my legs to snap shut and my entire body to tremble with its intensity. I was about to collapse on the bed when he demanded, “Show me that dirty little cunt of yours while you suck my cock and retrieve your own cunt juice.”

I crawled onto the bed facing the opposite side of the camera, lowering myself one more time, and posed while I sucked that dildo. I could literally taste my own cum juice.

“Wow, I love MILFs,” he said.

“MILF?” I inquired without any prior knowledge of this terminology.

“Mother I would Like to Fuck” He provided an elaboration of the word in its extended form.

"Am I your mother now?" I teasingly inquired, attempting to be a bit naughty with him.

"Naturally, I'm just twenty years old," he disclosed.

"Oh gosh!" I exclaimed. I had sent all my naked pictures to a teenager, and I even conducted a live show sucking and fucking myself with a suction dildo.

“What's the big deal? Would you like to see my dick?” The kid said this and instantly turned on his camera, pointing at his massive and thick nine-inch cock. It was far larger than my husband's; in fact, it was the largest I had ever seen. I exclaimed one more word as he stroked his dick.

“Wanna ride this dick?” he asked.

"Oh goodness!" I exclaimed, taken aback and unsure of how to react, when suddenly another bell chimed.

“I want to fuck you next weekend.” He claimed.

“But you’re...” I paused.

“So, you’re rejecting my dick?” he aggressively asked.

“Please don’t make me do something…” I was about to resist, but I faltered and paused once more.

“Give me your phone number right this moment,” he interjected, still stroking his cock furiously. Soon after, another bell rang.

"Oh, goodness." I glanced around, my confusion lingering. Unsure whether to disclose it or not, I ultimately made up my mind and said, "Alright, 9X-XXX-XXX-XX."

Right after I had finished giving my phone number, the teenager had an orgasm, resulting in a generous amount of sperm spraying onto the camera. I instinctively blinked, sensing the sensation of the cum seemingly coating my face.

“Fuck that was hot; I'll contact you. Bye!” The teenager exclaimed, and before I could react, the call was disconnected.

I let out a slight moan as I heard the doorbell for the fifth time. The heat wasn't helping either; I was practically drenched in sweat, my lethargy reaching peak levels. Summoning a tiny burst of energy, I finally decided to heave myself off the bed. I wiped away a bit of sweat and took a deep breath, feeling like I was gearing up for a heroic feat. In reality, it was just a mission to reach for the door.

With a sense of determination that could rival any superhero, I managed to slip into my leggings, which felt like a minor victory in itself. And then, with a mix of exhaustion and exasperation, I called out, “Coming...”

As soon as I opened the gate, a swarm of kids gathered around me, and my mother angrily quipped, "What took you so long?"

To be continued...