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Hello! I’m thrilled to share a new story with you. As a writer who finds joy in both crafting and reading erotic literature, I embrace the complexities of desire. My stories are purely fictional explorations into the depths of human depravity.
I’m Priya, 39 years old. I married my high school sweetheart far too young—what I now recognize as a pivotal mistake that shaped my life. I have a 19-year-old son named Jatin. I’m blessed with two beautiful daughters from my second marriage.
Growing up in the UK, I experienced a culture where having children close together felt normal. It simplifies life: toys are easily repurposed, siblings learn to share, and the lessons of compassion unfold naturally. Most importantly, extended maternity made those early days feel like a royal privilege.
This story unfolds on a sweltering summer day. My daughter, Ankita, was just 10 months old, and I was expecting Ahana. My first husband, Ashish, remains a dear friend—after all, he is Jatin’s father.
Despite my parents’ confusion about our friendship, I find it comforting. Even now, when I mention Ashish joining us on family outings, my friends and colleagues often look bewildered.
On that sunny afternoon, the four of us—Vinay (my husband), Jatin, Ashish, and I—sat on the balcony. The air was thick with laughter and playful banter as we brainstormed our next holiday destination. Our maid, a warm presence in our home, brought us chilled mint lemonade.
Its refreshing scent mixed with the sound of laughter. Ashish and Vinay popped open a couple of beers, their camaraderie evident. “Let’s go international this time!” Jatin exclaimed, his youthful enthusiasm lighting up the room.
“No way!” I replied a mix of determination and humour in my voice. “I’m in my final trimester, and there’s no way I’m travelling with a 10-month-old.”
Vinay chimed in with a grin, “How about somewhere close, like Singapore, Thailand, or Malaysia?”
Ashish, playfully feigning exasperation, quipped, “Honestly, I feel like a third wheel here. You guys should stop inviting me on family holidays!”
“Nonsense!” Vinay shot back, laughter bubbling between them. “You’re a family, mate. Don’t talk like that!”
I couldn’t help but smile at Ashish’s smirk, an expression that whispered, “Yeah, right!”
For the next half hour, we tossed around over a hundred ideas. Everything from idyllic hill stations to spontaneous road trips and even a tiny island called Nauru. I had never even heard of it!
Just as the excitement reached a fever pitch, our maid interrupted, gently announcing that Ankita had woken up, likely hungry and ready for some love and attention. I called it quits and told the boys that I was game for anything they decided and left.
Moments later, I saw Jatin leaving while Ashish and Vinay continued their chat. As the night approached, Ashish left, and Jatin decided to crash at his old man’s place. Vinay and I were in our room. Vinay is such a sweetheart. When Ankita is full, I often skip the pump because he’s always eager to help.
It’s become our daily ritual, a quiet moment of connection. He would slip his hand in my Pyjamas and suckle on my nipples as I chatted with him about finances, the next day’s chores, and neighbourhood gossip.
In those shared moments, there’s warmth that envelops us, blending intimacy and friendship.  It’s a space where I feel seen and understood. Allowing me to express both the ordinary and the personal in a way that feels safe and nurturing.
Suddenly, Vinay turned to me, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. “Honey, can I ask you something?”
“Of course!” I replied, curiosity piqued.
He paused, his expression shifting. “Never mind. Ignore what I said.”
I felt a spark of annoyance. “You and I both know I’m not going to let this go until you tell me what you wanted to ask.”
“It’s nothing, really. I forgot,” he said, but the way he averted his gaze told me otherwise.
Pushing him gently away from my chest, I removed his hand from my pyjamas and sat up on the bed, an annoyed look crossing my face. “Ask!”
He took a deep breath, clearly wrestling with something. “It’s just awkward; I don’t know how to say this.”
“What happened? Please don’t tell me you lost money on Bitcoin again,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood, but my heart raced with the uncertainty lingering between us.
He hesitated, his eyes searching mine, and for a moment, the air was thick with unspoken words. I sensed that this was about more than just finances, a tension building that made me acutely aware of our closeness.
“Just tell me,” I urged softly, leaning in, my curiosity mixed with concern.
Vinay’s gaze shifted, the playful atmosphere suddenly taking a serious turn. “Do you miss Ashish?”
I blinked, caught off guard. “What the hell are you talking about?”
He hesitated, searching for the right words. “I mean… am I better than him in bed?”
A mix of surprise and confusion washed over me. “Where’s this coming from? Honey, what’s going on?” My heart raced as I tried to process the unexpected shift in our conversation.
Vinay shifted uncomfortably, his expression revealing a vulnerability I hadn’t seen before. The air thickened between us, the weight of his question hanging heavy in the room.
“I just… I need to know,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
I felt a flutter of emotions—curiosity, concern, and a hint of something else I couldn’t quite name. This wasn’t just a casual conversation anymore. It felt like we were stepping into deeper waters, and I wasn’t sure how to navigate it.
I wanted to lighten the mood, knowing I had to navigate this carefully. Ashish had been amazing in bed—not that Vinay was bad. I took a breath and chose my words wisely. “Apples and oranges.”
“What?” Vinay looked confused.
“Apples and oranges—two different fruits. There’s no comparison, my love. Both are unique and good in their way.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “So, what do you like more—apples or oranges? And first, am I an apple or an orange?”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “What’s going on here? Why this all of a sudden?”
Vinay’s expression grew serious. “You know Ashish and I are good friends. Lately, I’ve felt like our physical relationship has become ritualistic. I don’t mean it’s bad; it’s just that I sense you’re not satisfied.”
“Nonsense!” I replied, trying to inject some warmth into the conversation. “It’s the pregnancy and hormones, my love. You’re overthinking this.”
He sighed, but I could see a flicker of relief in his eyes. I reached out, placing my hand on his, hoping to reassure him. “We’re in this together, remember? It’s just a phase. We’ll get through it.”
Vinay smiled faintly, the tension easing just a bit. Before we could continue with the conversation, I kissed him and said, “I want you to Fuck me hard tonight.”
The soft glow of the lamp bathed the room in a warm, inviting light, creating a cosy haven just for us. I sat curled against him on the bed, a gentle tension hanging in the air, charged with unspoken feelings.
Vinay reached out, his fingers gliding through my hair, brushing aside a few loose strands that had fallen across my face. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to embrace the moment, feeling both vulnerable and cherished fully. With lingering memories of intimate moments with Ashish, I closed my eyes.
Vinay’s touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. I leaned into him, yearning for more of that connection. “Your hair is exquisite,” he murmured, his voice low and rich. The sincerity in his words made my heart flutter. I couldn’t help but smile.
But there was a flutter of uncertainty beneath it—what was he really feeling in this intimate space? As he began to twist and braid my hair, his movements were careful, almost reverent. I felt every tug and pull, each motion a silent promise of something deeper.
I held my breath, caught between the safety of our marriage and the thrilling potential of something more. “Just relax,” he whispered, leaning closer, his chin resting on my shoulder. The warmth of his breath sent a wave of anticipation through my body, stirring emotions I had kept hidden for too long.
I shivered, not from the chill of the room but from the heat of the moment. Time seemed to stretch. He continued to play with my hair, our laughter fading into silence, the air thick with tension. With every twist and gentle tug, I felt myself drawn closer to him. The space between us was electrified with possibility.
“What if…?” I thought, my heart racing as the question hung unspoken in the air. The room felt charged, each heartbeat echoing the weight of our shared connection.
In that intimate cocoon, surrounded by the warmth of his presence, I realized that this was more than just a simple act of hair play. It was a revelation. I longed to explore the uncharted territory between us. The monogamy could transform into something infinitely more profound.
He kissed my neck softly, whispering, “There’s a surprise for you, my love.” I kept my eyes closed, feeling the thrill of being blindfolded. He gently laid me down on the bed and instructed me not to move. A few moments later, I heard his voice asking if I was okay.
I replied, “I’d be better if I knew what the surprise was.” Even though I couldn’t see, I sensed his playful smirk and suspected he was up to something naughty. I reminded Vinay that there should be limits to our exploration, especially considering my pregnancy.
He reassured me, saying, “Everything is going to be alright.” I lay on the bed completely naked with the blindfold in place. The suspense was almost unbearable. I could feel sweat trickling from my forehead down to my neck, and the room was quiet, thick with anticipation.
There was a lingering scent in the air, a mix of excitement and desire. It was mostly the smell of my leaking cunt. It reminded me of everything that had just happened and could happen.
I felt a presence next to me, and I was at my wit’s end. I grabbed Vinay and kissed him. The moment our lips met, the pricking beard gave him away. I knew this was not Vinay. Immediately removing the blindfold, I found Ashish next to me with a smile and Vinay on a chair next to the bed.
Confused, I exclaimed, “WHAT THE FUCK!”
To be continued
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iSS
