Adultery Punjabi Milf with her Bihari Servant.

[Alpha3]

Are you interested to write this story or some other story in Hindi also ?

I can read and understand Hindi but writing in Hindi won’t be easy for me, to write using sensual words to help you guys imagine it better is hard task sorry.
But feel free to translate the story in Hindi if you want

 

[Alpha3]

" The words were like a bucket of cold water, extinguishing the flames of passion that had been licking at her soul. Her eyes snapped open, her body stiffening in horror. Ramesh paused, his eyes darkening with anger, but the unspoken understanding between them was clear. This was their secret, and it had to remain as such.





With a wry smile that did not quite reach his eyes, he leaned in to whisper in her ear, "Your son has quite the imagination, doesn't he?" The tension in his voice was palpable, and she felt a stab of guilt at the thought of their tryst being reduced to a juvenile jest. Yet, she couldn't help but feel a thrill at the risk, the illicit nature of their affair adding a piquant flavor to their union.





Ignoring the taunting voice, they lost themselves in the rhythm once more, their bodies moving in a silent symphony of passion. Her walls tightened around his cock, and she felt the beginnings of an orgasm coil within her. The sound of her son's footsteps retreating down the hallway only served to heighten her arousal, the danger of discovery adding a dark allure to the moment.





Their movements grew more urgent, each stroke a silent declaration of their desire for one another. Ramesh's hands moved to her breasts, his thumbs flicking her erect nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through her body. She threw her head back, her long hair cascading down her back, as a guttural moan escaped her lips. He watched her, his eyes hooded with lust, as her body tensed and then shuddered with the force of her climax.





The aftershocks of pleasure rippled through her, and she collapsed against him, her breath coming in ragged gasps. His arms tightened around her, holding her close as he continued to move within her, his own orgasm building like a storm on the horizon. He knew he could not last much longer, the heat of her body a siren's call that was impossible to resist.





With one final, deep thrust, Ramesh buried his face in her neck, his teeth sinking gently into her skin as he reached his peak. He felt her shiver, her muscles contracting around him, and he knew she was there too, her climax crashing over her like a wave. He held her through it, his cock pulsing deep within her, filling her with his essence.





The aftermath was a symphony of heavy breaths and racing hearts. They lay tangled in the damp sheets, the scent of their lovemaking lingering in the air. The room was still, the only sound the distant call of a night owl outside. Ramesh's hand traced the contours of her body, his fingertips dancing along the curves of her hips, her waist, and the swell of her breasts. The moon cast a silver glow upon them, their skin glistening with the sheen of their shared passion.





He leaned over, his breath hot against her ear, "Madam, will you do me the service of removing the condom?" The question was a gentle request, yet the power dynamics of their secret affair were clear. Ramesh knew that asking such a thing was a risk, but the way she had taken charge during their encounter had made him crave her dominance in every aspect.





Kamal lay there, her chest heaving with exertion, the aftershocks of pleasure still pulsing through her body. She looked at him, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of the moment. The air was thick with the scent of their love, a heady mix of sweat and desire that seemed to cling to their skin. The condom, filled with the evidence of their transgression, was a stark reminder of the line they had crossed. But she was the madam of this house, and she had the power to dictate the terms of their encounter.





With a knowing smile, she reached down between her legs, her fingers brushing against the slickness that was their combined arousal. She took the base of the condom, feeling the warmth and fullness of his cum within. But instead of removing it, she held it in place, her grip firm yet gentle. "No, Ramesh," she murmured, her voice a sultry whisper, "you will do it."





He looked at her in surprise, his eyes darkening with a mix of desire and submission.

He knew that she was testing him, playing with the power dynamics of their secret affair. He swallowed hard, his cock still buried deep inside her, the condom stretched taut with his seed. He nodded slowly, his hand moving to the base of the sheath, his fingers trembling slightly with anticipation.





As he began to slide it off, the sensation was one of both pleasure and pain—the tightness of the condom around his sensitive skin, the feeling of her warmth clinging to him, the stickiness of their combined fluids. His movements were careful, reverential almost, as if he were handling something precious and fragile. The condom slid down his shaft, the suction breaking with a soft pop that seemed to echo in the quiet room.





Kamal watched him with a mix of fascination and authority, her eyes never leaving his face. She knew that this simple act was a testament to their newfound dynamic, a silent acknowledgment of the power she held over him. He was her servant in more ways than one now, and the thrill of that knowledge sent a shiver of excitement through her body.





Once the condom was free, she took it from his hand, her own fingers sticky with their combined release. She held it up to the moonlight, watching the semen glisten and stretch in the soft glow. The sight was both mesmerizing and slightly repulsive, but the power she felt was undeniable. She knew that in that moment, she had him completely in her thrall.





With a wicked smile, she leaned in, her eyes never leaving his. "Open your mouth," she instructed, her voice a soft purr. Ramesh obeyed without question, his eyes wide with a mix of excitement and trepidation. She brought the condom closer, the warm scent of their love filling the space between them, and then she squeezed. A thick rope of cum shot into his mouth, and he swallowed, his eyes closing in ecstasy. The taste was bitter, but it was the taste of their forbidden union, and that was all that mattered.





Kamal tossed the spent condom aside, the act a symbolic release of their inhibitions. Ramesh leaned in to kiss her again, his mouth still wet with the proof of his desire for her. The kiss grew deeper, more intense, as if trying to reclaim what had been lost. Her hand slid down his chest, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscles, the scars of his hard labor. She felt his heart thud against her palm, a steady beat that matched the rhythm of her own.





But as his tongue sought hers, she pulled back with a gasp, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. The taste of their love was still there, a potent reminder of the act they had just committed. Her eyes searched his, a silent question in their depths. He understood immediately, his own hand reaching for his mouth, wiping away the remnants of their union. He knew she was a woman of refined tastes, her hygiene as meticulous as the care she took in maintaining her home.





Ramesh's gaze fell to her hand, to the way her fingers danced over her full lips, wiping away the traces of him. He felt a sudden surge of tenderness, a need to reassure her that he would never do anything to make her feel unclean. "Madam," he murmured, his voice thick with the aftermath of passion, "I apologize. I did not think."





Kamal's expression softened, the horror of the situation momentarily forgotten in the warmth of his gaze. "It's all right, Ramesh," she said, her voice a whisper of understanding. "We are adults. We know the consequences of our actions." She reached out, her hand cupping his cheek, her thumb brushing against the stubble that lined his jaw. "But I am a very hygienic woman, and the taste..."





Her voice trailed off, and she didn't need to finish the sentence. The air grew thick with unspoken truths, the weight of their situation pressing down upon them. Ramesh nodded solemnly, his hand reaching for her wrist, his thumb brushing against the pulse point that fluttered like a trapped butterfly beneath her skin. "I understand, Madam," he said, his voice low and rough. "I will cleanse my mouth before I dare to kiss you again."

 

[Alpha3]

Guys do you like play of domination of the story? Like kamal not losing her social position’s dominance even after getting under Ramesh.
Please leave a feedback

 

[Alpha3]

He slid out of bed, the moonlight casting shadows across the room that danced over his muscular frame. He walked to the washbasin in the corner, the cool water a stark contrast to the heat of his skin. He rinsed his mouth thoroughly, the sound of the water a gentle serenade that seemed to wash away the tension that had suddenly coiled around them. When he turned back to the bed, the softness in his eyes was unmistakable.





Kamal watched him, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her climax. He approached her, his steps deliberate and slow, as if afraid to break the delicate spell that had been woven around them. He climbed back onto the bed, his body hovering over hers, his eyes never leaving hers. He began to kiss her again, his lips moving with a tenderness that was new to their stolen moments. His mouth traced a path from her forehead down to her cheeks, the bridge of her nose, and finally to her lips. Each kiss was a silent apology, a declaration of his affection that had nothing to do with the raw, animalistic need that had driven them before.





As he kissed his way down her neck, his hands began to roam her body again, but this time with a gentleness that made her feel cherished. He cupped her breasts, his thumbs lightly grazing the sensitive tips, causing her to shiver with pleasure. His kisses grew more tender as they moved lower, over her collarbone, her chest, and down the valley between her breasts. He paused there, his breath hot and ragged against her skin, before continuing his journey downwards.





Kamal lay still, her eyes fixed on the ceiling as she felt the softness of his kisses against her belly, the gentle scrape of his stubble against her skin. The sensation was almost unbearable, a delicious mix of pleasure and pain that had her squirming beneath him. His hands slid down her sides, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist before settling on her hips, his kisses moving lower still, to the tops of her thighs.





The room was suffused with the scent of their love, a potent aroma that seemed to cling to the air like mist. Her skin was slick with sweat, the evidence of their passion still glistening on her body. Yet, in this moment, there was no room for embarrassment, only the sweet agony of his lips on hers, his tongue exploring every inch of her mouth with a tenderness that was almost painful in its beauty.





Ramesh's kisses grew softer, his mouth moving to her eyes, her cheeks, her nose. He kissed her as if he were worshipping her, each brush of his lips a silent vow of devotion. His hands caressed her, his touch feather-light as he traced the curve of her breasts, her waist, the gentle slope of her stomach. His kisses grew more deliberate, moving down her body in a slow, methodical pattern that spoke of a love that went beyond the carnality of their earlier union.





He reached her navel, his tongue dipping into the shallow well of her belly button, causing her to gasp and arch her back. His mouth continued its journey downwards, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His kisses grew more insistent, his tongue flicking and teasing the soft skin of her inner thighs, the musky scent of her desire filling his nostrils. He reached the apex of her legs, his breath hot against her shaved mound, and she felt a shiver of anticipation run through her.





Ramesh's lips parted her folds, his tongue sliding into the warm, wet cavern of her sex with a gentle ease that belied his earlier ferocity. His kisses grew more passionate, his mouth moving in a rhythm that mirrored the beating of her heart. She could feel him savoring her, his movements deliberate and measured, as if he were memorizing every inch of her. His hands gripped her thighs, his thumbs tracing circles on the sensitive skin, urging her to open wider for him.





Her eyes closed, her body arching into his touch, as his mouth found her clit. He sucked on the tender bud with a hunger that made her toes curl, the silver anklets chiming softly with her movements.

The sensation was exquisite, the combination of his roughness and tenderness a heady cocktail that made her moan his name. Her hips bucked, her hands fisting in the sheets as he worked his magic, his tongue swirling and flicking with a skill that had her teetering on the edge of orgasm once more.





But Ramesh had other plans. He pulled back, his eyes gleaming with mischief, and began to kiss his way down her body, his lips moving slowly and deliberately. Each kiss was a promise, a silent declaration of his intentions. He kissed her hips, the softness of his beard scraping against her skin, sending delicious shivers through her. He took his time, his mouth moving over her stomach, his tongue tracing the faint line of her navel before dipping into the sensitive hollow.





Her body quivered beneath his touch, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as his mouth continued its descent. His kisses grew softer, more tender as he reached the tops of her thighs. He paused there, his breath warm against her skin, his eyes dark with lust as he looked up at her. The air was thick with the scent of their arousal, the room a cocoon of desire that held them both captive.





Ramesh's mouth moved to her left thigh, his kisses a gentle caress that seemed to melt the very essence of her. His tongue traced the line of her leg, the sensation a sweet torment that made her squirm and whimper. He kissed along the sensitive skin, his teeth grazing the soft flesh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. His hands followed the contours of her body, moving down her legs to her ankles, his fingers lightly brushing the silver anklets that adorned her feet.





Her legs fell open wider, inviting him to explore further. He took the invitation eagerly, his kisses moving to the soft arch of her foot, the delicate bones of her instep. His tongue danced over her toes, each digit a tiny, sensitive peak that responded to his touch with a shiver. His breath was hot against the sensitive skin, the sensation making her toes curl in pleasure. He kissed the pads of her feet, his tongue tracing the lines of her sole, and she felt a jolt of sensation shoot up her legs, straight to her core.





Ramesh paused, his gaze lingering on the silver anklets that adorned her ankles. They jingled with every twitch of her legs, a sound that seemed to resonate with the rhythm of his own heart. He took one anklet in his mouth, his teeth grazing the cool metal, and she watched with a mix of fascination and arousal as his tongue slid around the delicate chain. The sensation was exquisite, a gentle tease that made her want more. He kissed along the line of her ankle, moving from one anklet to the other, his mouth worshipping the skin between them.





Her legs quivered, the muscles tightening and releasing in a silent plea for him to continue. He took her left foot in his hand, his thumb tracing the line of her instep, the softness of her skin a stark contrast to the roughness of his palm. His eyes remained on hers, the connection between them unbroken as he bent down to kiss the tip of her big toe. The sensation was strange yet thrilling, sending a shiver of pleasure up her spine. He kissed each toe in turn, his breath hot and tickling, his tongue flicking out to taste the sweetness of her skin.





Kamal watched, fascinated, as Ramesh's attentions turned to her other foot. His kisses grew more fervent, his mouth moving from her toes to the arch of her foot, the kisses growing deeper and more intense. His tongue traced the delicate line of her foot, and she felt a sudden, unexpected jolt of pleasure as he kissed the sensitive spot behind her ankle. Her hand reached out, her fingers tangling in his hair, urging him closer as he kissed her calf, her knee, moving back up to her inner thigh.





"Do you like my feet, Ramesh?" she whispered, her voice a sultry siren's call that seemed to echo in the quiet room. She knew the answer, could feel the heat of his desire in the way he kissed and touched her, but she needed to hear the words, to have that one final piece of power in this dance of seduction.

Ramesh paused, his eyes lingering on her delicate toes, the polished nails a stark contrast to the calloused pads of his own. His heart hammered in his chest, the confession of his secret yearning for her almost too much to bear. "More than anything, Madam," he murmured, his voice thick with longing. "Your feet are like the petals of the lotus, so soft, so delicate."





Kamal's eyes narrowed, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she lifted her right foot to his crotch. The warmth of his erection pulsed against her sole, the fabric of his pants a mere barrier to the heat of his desire. "Prove it," she challenged, her voice a whispered dare.





Ramesh's eyes widened, his breath hitching in his throat as he understood her intent. With trembling hands, he unbuttoned his pants, his erection springing free, thick and proud. He took himself in hand, stroking slowly as he watched her bring her foot closer. She placed her foot gently against his cock, the softness of her sole a stark contrast to the roughness of his palm. His eyes never left hers, the connection between them a live wire that sizzled with energy.





Her toes curled around his length, the sensation of her polished nails against his sensitive skin making him gasp. He began to pump himself, his movements jerky and unpracticed as he watched her foot slide up and down his shaft. The sight was mesmerizing, a vision of beauty and power that made him feel both humbled and exhilarated. He stroked faster, his breath coming in ragged pants, as she began to massage his balls with the arch of her foot.





The silver anklets chimed with each movement, the sound a sweet symphony that seemed to drive him closer to the brink. Her eyes never left his, the hunger in them a mirror to his own. "Madam," he moaned, his voice strained with need, "you are driving me mad."





With a sudden, fierce determination, Ramesh grabbed her ankles, pulling her legs apart with a force that made her gasp. He positioned himself between her thighs, his erection pointing to the heavens like an arrow of pure desire. He paused, his cock just touching the entrance to her still-throbbing pussy. "Tell me," he whispered, his voice hoarse with passion, "are you ready for me?"





Kamal's eyes searched his, the depths of his desire reflected in the pools of darkness. "No," she murmured, the word a soft denial that seemed to hang in the air. "Not yet, Ramesh. I need... something else."





His expression tightened with confusion, but before he could ask, she leaned forward and kissed him again, her hand moving between them to guide his shaft to her ankle. "I want... I need your release, but not inside me." Her voice was a silken caress that sent a shiver down his spine. "Not this time. I want... I want your essence on my feet."





The request was so unexpected, so primal, that it ignited a new fire within him. Ramesh had never considered such a thing, but the way she spoke, the desire in her voice, was all the invitation he needed. He slid his cock along the smooth, soft skin of her ankle, feeling the coolness of the silver anklets against his heated flesh. The sensation was foreign, yet it stirred something deep within him, a sense of submission and power that was intoxicating.





Her eyes never left his as she began to work her foot in earnest, her toes curling around the base of his shaft, her soles gliding along the length of him. The sight of her painted toes, the delicate arch of her foot, was a vision that would be etched into his mind for all eternity. His hand found the back of her calf, his fingers digging in as he began to thrust against her, his movements driven by the rhythm of her foot.





The friction was exquisite, the softness of her skin against his cock a symphony of sensation that seemed to resonate through his very soul. His hips moved in time with her foot, his thrusts growing more urgent, more demanding. The room was alive with the sounds of their passion—the slap of flesh against flesh, the jingle of her anklets, and the ragged rasp of their breath.