Adultery The Cheating Wife ?

Investigating Swati

Ganga ( impatiently knocking): "What are you doing in there, Srinu? I’ve been calling for you!"

Srinu, startled, hurriedly locked his phone, a guilty look flashing across his face. He hadn’t anticipated her timing, nor did he have a plan to deal with the visible evidence of his hard cock pressing against his pants. He tried his best to will it down, to no avail.

Srinu ( muffled, from behind the door): "Uh... What do you want, Ganga?"

Ganga ( irritated): "What do you mean, ‘What do I want?’ You’ve been in there for ages!"

Srinu ( apologetically): "I... I was shaving, sorry!"

Ganga ( sighing): "Fine, but I need to get in. I have to take a bath and pack our bags."

Before Srinu could protest further, Ganga instinctively pushed the door open, catching him off guard. He tried hiding his body behind the door, but her sharp eyes immediately fell on the undeniable bulge in his pants. Her gaze lingered, a flash of mischief lighting up her face as a sly smile curved her lips.

Ganga ( with a playful twinkle in her eye): "Oh... I didn’t know you enjoyed spending alone time with your phone so much."

Srinu ( stammering, caught red-handed): "I... I wasn’t... I mean, I was..."

Ganga’s smile morphed into an exaggerated frown of mock anger, her tone laced with sarcasm.

Ganga ( pretending to scold): "Tell me the truth, Srinu. Which actress’s Instagram were you stalking?"

Srinu’s mind raced. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him. What a shameless woman! he thought bitterly. She’s the one who cheated on me, yet here she is, acting jealous, as if she’s some pious, innocent wife.

Srinu ( in a calm yet pointed tone): "I wasn’t looking at any actress, Ganga. Actually... I was thinking about you."

His answer caught her off guard, and the sly smile returned, even broader this time. She stepped closer, her hand boldly resting on the prominent bulge in his pants.

Ganga ( seductively): "If that’s the case... Why didn’t you call me? I could’ve helped you with this."

Srinu’s anger over her infidelity boiled just beneath the surface, but the allure of the moment clouded his judgment. The idea of Ganga getting turned on by another woman’s actions, as he had just read, strangely added fuel to the fire of his arousal. He couldn’t deny the temptation in front of him.

Srinu’s thoughts spiraled. Women with women... It’s like stumbling upon two chocolates melted together in one wrapper—double the pleasure.

In a burst of passion, he slid his hands under her arms, lifting her effortlessly onto the sink. He cupped her face in his hands, his lips capturing hers in an intense kiss. His tongue explored hers, slurping and teasing, while he nipped lightly at her bottom lip, pulling it slightly.

Ganga ( surprised but eager): "Mmm..."

She responded quickly, wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him closer as their kisses grew deeper and more fervent. The heated moment, however, was interrupted by a sharp knock on the front door.

Both froze. Reality came crashing down as Ganga hopped off the sink.

Ganga ( hurriedly): "Sorry, Srinu, I have to see who it is."

It was the neighbor's auntie, carrying a wedding gift for Ganga’s cousin. Ganga invited her in for coffee, leaving Srinu standing in the bathroom, overhearing their conversation. He watched her glance back at him apologetically, silently mouthing a “sorry” for leaving him in his state of unresolved tension.

Srinu closed the door and leaned against it, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

Srinu ( to himself, bitterly): "What the hell is wrong with me? Why did I kiss her? She’s a cheating whore!"

A single tear rolled down his cheek as he struggled with the memory of her betrayal. It haunted him, tainting every touch, every kiss. He looked at his locked phone, the temptation to continue reading gnawing at him. But Ganga might grow suspicious if he stayed too long. He decided to wait until she left for her cousin’s wedding before reading her diary.

Srinu resolved to dig deeper. He thought of meeting his other two options Swathi and Priya. Who should he approach first—Swati or Priya?

Yang ( in his head, shouting): "Meet Swati first!"

Yin ( calmly): "No, Priya would be the wiser choice. She knows Ganga better than anyone."

Yang ( arguing): "But Swati might know what Ganga was up to in Ranigunj. Plus, Swati’s hot as hell."

Yin ( irritated): "What does Swati being hot have to do with anything?"

Yang ( sheepishly): "She did invite us to her ‘kopcha’ last time to fuck her, remember?"

Yin ( confused): "What’s a ‘kopcha’?"

Yang ( grinning): "It’s a secluded spot, like an empty corridor."

Srinu sighed, his decision leaning towards Yang’s argument knowing his decision was mostly influenced by swathi's hotness.

Swati it is.

Freshly dressed, he came downstairs, where Ganga and the neighbor were chatting over tea.

Ganga ( surprised): "Where are you going? I thought you were on leave for the wedding!"

Srinu ( calmly): "There’s an emergency with a client. I’ll have to stay back for a few days."

Ganga ( disappointed): "What about the wedding?"

Srinu ( reassuring): "I’ve booked tickets for you. Your bus leaves tomorrow morning."

Ganga ( pleading): "But there’s so much left to pack. How will I manage alone?"

Before he could answer, his phone rang. Srinu took the call, waving her off with a quick goodbye, and left on his bike, ignoring her disappointed gaze.

Srinu skips the office and heads straight to Ranigunj. He hides his bike and waits near a junction, keeping an eye out for Swati. Soon, he spots her emerging from a house, wiping her hands with her saree’s pallu.

A woman ( shouting from the doorway): "Swati! Kal subah jaldi aana, bahut kaam bacha hai!"

Swati ( calling back lazily): "Theek hai, memsahab. Subah aa jaungi." [Alright, madam. I’ll come in the morning.]

Realizing that Swati was a maid. At that moment, something stirred deep within him—a recognition, an understanding of why he had felt an almost magnetic pull toward her. She wasn’t just Swathi, the maid. She represented something more visceral, something that had been dormant inside him for years. His mind raced as he pieced it together: it was her unassuming demeanor, the way she carried herself with a mixture of humility and confidence, her earthy scent mingling with the faint aroma of spices and sweat. She was real—unpolished, raw, and unapologetically herself. And that reminded him of...

No. He stopped himself. He could feel the tendrils of a memory from his past clawing their way to the surface, a secret he had locked away. His jaw clenched as he shoved it back down where it belonged, his expression betraying none of the turmoil within. Swathi, unknowingly, was tugging at a thread that could unravel everything he had tried so hard to bury.

As Swati walks away, Srinu follows her discreetly. She sits at a roadside bench, chatting with a friend who joins her shortly.

Swati’s Friend ( teasing): "Kya re Swati, suna hai teri malkin tujhe dant rahi thi ki tu kaam nahin karti hai?" [What’s up, Swati? I heard your mistress was scolding you for not working properly?]

Swati ( rolling her eyes, dismissively): "O saali, malkin toh aise hi chillati rehti hai. Usko kya pata, main kaun se kaam mein busy rehti hoon!" [Oh please, that mistress is always shouting. What does she know about what I really stay busy with!]

Friend ( raising her eyebrow, intrigued): "Iska kya matlab? Tu dusre kaamon mein busy rehti hai?" [What do you mean? You’re busy with other work?]

Swati ( grinning slyly): "Arre, woh malkin ka pati hai na, jab bhi kaam karti thi, woh roz mere boobs ko taad-taad ke dekhta rehta tha." [Oh, her husband, you know? Whenever I worked, he would stare at my boobs every single day.]

Friend ( leaning closer, whispering with a smirk): "Accha? Toh tu ne kya kiya?" [Really? So, what did you do?]

Swati ( flipping her hair, smugly): "Aur kya karti? Mujhe samajh mein aa gaya... toh maine bhi jaan bujh kar zyada khol ke dikhana shuru kar diya." [What else could I do? I figured it out… so I started deliberately showing off even more.]

Friend ( giggling, slapping Swati playfully on the arm): "Tu bhi, saali, kam badmash nahin hai! Aur bata, phir kya hua?" [You’re something else, you little devil! So, then what happened?]

Swati ( shrugging nonchalantly): "Phir kya… jab bhi malkin apni kaam par bahar jaati thi, uska pati mujhe unke bedroom le jaakar… bed par leta kar… samajh rahi hai na, main kya keh rahi hoon." [Then what… whenever the mistress went out for work, her husband would take me to their bedroom, make me lie on the bed… you get what I’m saying, right?]

Friend ( wide-eyed, shaking her head in disbelief): "Haan, samajh gayi hoon main. Uska pati toh bahut chaalak nikla. Tumko subah mein aur uski patni ko raat mein usi bed par leta ke maze le raha hai!" [Yes, I understand now. Her husband is really clever. He’s enjoying you in the morning and his wife at night on the same bed!]

Swati ( laughing, waving her hand dismissively): "Are tu asli baat samjhi hi nahin hai." [Oh, you haven’t understood the real point yet.]

Friend ( confused, tilting her head): "Asli baat? Woh kya hai?" [The real point? What’s that?]

Swati ( leaning in with a mischievous grin): "Woh yeh hai na, in mardon ko apni gharwali se zyada apne ghar ki kaamwali mein maza aata hai."

When Swathi had said, "Mardon ko apni gharwali se zyada apni ghar ki kaamwali mein maza aata hai," [Men enjoy their maids more than their wives,] Srinu’s heart skipped a beat. He knew exactly what she meant. Her words didn’t just strike a chord—they rang true with a clarity that both excited and unsettled him.

He tried to brush it off as mere coincidence, but the truth clawed its way back. Years ago, as a boy, he had seen something—felt something. A scene from his childhood flashed before his eyes, vivid and raw. A maid in his household, a woman whose presence had left an indelible mark on his young mind, had been at the center of it all. The allure she had held over the men in the family, the stolen glances, the hushed whispers, and the forbidden allure of her mere existence.

Srinu could feel the weight of that memory pressing down on him now, threatening to escape the iron grip he had kept it under for so long. But he couldn’t let it. Not here, not now. He straightened his shoulders and forced himself to focus on the present, determined not to let his thoughts betray him.

Friend ( blinking in surprise): "Kya baat kar rahi ho? Sach mein aisa hota hai?" [Are you serious? Does this really happen?]

Swati ( nodding confidently): "Haan, yeh sach baat hai. Main itne gharon mein kaam karti hoon, tumko pata hai na?" [Yes, it’s true. I work in so many houses, you know that, right?]

Friend ( grinning wickedly): "Haan, mujhe pata hai. Is jhopadpatti mein tumse zyada badi kaamwali nahi hai!" [Yes, I know. There’s no bigger housemaid in this slum than you!]

Swati ( with a playful wink): "Haan… har ghar ke mard, bachche se lekar buddhe tak, sab ke saath mera chakkar chal raha hai." [Yes… every house’s men, from the young boys to the old ones, I have an affair with all of them.]

Friend ( bursting out laughing, shaking her head): "Saali chhinaal, poore jhopadpatti ko maza dete rahi hai kya?" [You slut, you’re entertaining the entire slum, aren’t you?]

Swati ( winking, laughing): "Maza de bhi rahi hoon aur le bhi rahi hoon."

Both of them burst into loud laughter, their voices echoing through the narrow alleys. Swati adjusts her dupatta and stands up.

Swati ( smiling slyly): "Achha, main ab apne ghar ja rahi hoon. Raat mein sab kuch theek se bataungi." [Alright, I’m heading home now. I’ll tell you everything properly at night.]

She walks away, leaving her friend chuckling behind her, shaking her head at Swati’s boldness.

Swati began her walk home, her hips swaying rhythmically as if every step she took was a deliberate invitation to be admired. Srinu trailed behind her, unable to pull his eyes away, his thoughts a storm of confusion and desire. Every man on the street turned their heads, captivated by the magnetic allure of Swati's bold presence.

Swati, far from being embarrassed, seemed to revel in the attention. Instead of covering herself, she teased her onlookers mercilessly. She tugged her saree just a bit tighter against her chest, her black blouse accentuating her cleavage in a way that was impossible to ignore.

She blew kisses to her admirers, winked at those who dared to stare too long, and even giggled softly when their gazes lingered.

Srinu ( thinking): "What kind of goddess is this? A goddess blessing her devotees with kisses and winks..."

He was both astonished and embarrassed. Instead of being disgusted by Swati’s audacity, he admired her. The way her blouse clung to her, revealing the curve of her chest, sent an ache through his body so intense that it was painful. His arousal made walking in public embarrassing, yet he couldn’t stop following her.

But this moment didn’t just stir his body—it stirred his mind, opening a floodgate of memories he had buried deep inside himself. Suddenly, Swati’s teasing confidence reminded him of someone from his past, someone who had shaped his darkest secrets: Savitri, the housemaid who had once worked in his family home.

Srinu had a secret—a dark, forbidden memory buried so deep within his mind that it had faded into the shadows of his childhood. For years, he hadn’t allowed himself to revisit it, hadn’t let it surface even in his most private moments. But something about Swati cracked open the sealed vault of his memory.

Savitri had been a maid in Srinu’s household when he was young. she was the kind of woman who left an indelible mark on everyone she met. Her beauty was unmatched, and her mere presence stirred emotions wherever she went. The women in the neighborhood loathed her, not because she was unkind or arrogant, but because she was effortlessly captivating. Men couldn’t resist looking at her, and she knew it.

Savitri—whose name meant purity and devotion— But she was the completely opposite of her name. She wasn’t just flirtatious; she was audaciously seductive. Her playful eyes, teasing smile, and the way she carried herself were a turn-on for every man. Every household she worked for, buzzed with rumors about her affairs with the men there. Even his mother had accused his father of having an affair with Savitri.

The day Savitri joined their household was etched in Srinu’s memory like a vivid painting.

Srinu ( remembering): "It was the day she joined our household. She told my mother her story with tears in her eyes..."

Savitri had explained that poverty had forced her into servitude as a young girl. She had been sent to a rich family in her village as a maid. The men in that rich family had molested her. Relatives eventually rescued her, only to marry her off to a laborer and send her to the city for work. Srinu’s mother, moved by her plight, took her in as their housemaid.

Savitri and her husband had built a small hut near srinu's home, a modest structure with a door and two windows. Her husband left early every morning for work and returned late at night, leaving Savitri to handle their household tasks during the day.

Savitri’s presence in their home was unforgettable for Srinu. Savitri was anything but the meek, pious woman her story had painted her to be. Every morning, she would come dressed in a hot-looking saree, tying her hair into a bun with swift movements that left Srinu entranced.

Srinu ( thinking): "She was mesmerizing. Her eyes, her nose, her lips, the curve of her waist—everything about her was perfect. And the way she bent down to sweep, her cleavage visible through her transparent blouse... I couldn’t stop staring."

Her choice of dressing seemed deliberate—a transparent blouse paired with contrasting, colorful bras that caught the eye. She knew the effect she had on men, and she played with it, flaunting her beauty with an effortless charm.

She often came to their house in the mornings, her hair tied in a bun, her saree dbangd casually over her curvaceous body. She seemed to flaunt her beauty, as if aware of the effect she had on men.

Srinu ( remembering): "She was breathtaking. Her every movement was like poetry."

She worked around the house without a care, her movements deliberate, her laughter ringing through the walls. She never hid herself, never apologized for the way her saree slipped to reveal her boobs.

He enjoyed Her perfect waist with beautiful folds, He always thought Savitri had the best Body structure that he had ever seen he thought probably all the hard work that she had done as a housemaid made her body more beautiful.

At first, Savitri didn’t notice Srinu’s stares, or perhaps she chose to ignore them. When she did catch him looking, she never scolded him. Instead, she carried on as if nothing had happened. To her, Srinu was just a boy—an innocent pair of eyes that could look but never truly understand. But she underestimated him.

Srinu watched her every day, memorizing the curve of her lips, the dip of her waist, and the way her cleavage peeked out every time she bent down to sweep the floor. She wasn’t just a woman to him; she was a goddess, a force of nature who had come to save him from all the sexual frustrations That boys have during that age. His friends and classmates used to look at pictures of actresses to Masturbate at night, But Srinu would lie awake, replaying every moment of Savitri, his young mind and body overwhelmed by desires. He used to jerk off multiple times for Savitri every night.

Then came the day that changed everything. Srinu had been playing outside when he saw his father entering Savitri’s hut. Curiosity got the better of him, and he followed, sneaking around to one of the broken windows to peek inside.

What he saw left him frozen in shock. His father had pinned Savitri against the wall and fucking her as hard as he could, their bodies pressed together in an act of raw, unrestrained passion. His father kissed her neck and chest as she moaned loudly, her hands gripping his shoulders.

Srinu's father( stopped fucking, looking at her): Are randi itna mat Chilla Koi Sun Lega [hey Bitch! Don't shout so loudly someone will hear you]

Savitri was out of breath, Sweat was dripping from all over her body. Srinu looked from the window, marveling at the sight of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was looking like a goddess with a bindi on her forehead and sweat on her boobs.

Savitri( with a naughty smile): Koi baat nahin hai Sahab. Main unko aap mere dusra Pati Ho bol kar bol Dungi. [Don't worry sir, I'll tell them You're my second husband]

Srinu's father was even more turned on by her comment with her naughty smile. Then, with surprising strength, he lifted her into the air and carried her to the bed.

Srinu ( thinking): "I couldn’t believe my eyes. My father and Savitri... together? It was so wrong, yet I couldn’t look away."

Then his father jumped onto Savitri and kissed her wildly while fucking her nonstop. In the meantime, Srinu was lost in a trance watching his father and Savitri passionately fucking each other.

Savitri noticed his shadow by the window, and their eyes met.

For a moment, Srinu panicked, expecting her to shout or stop. But to his surprise, she smiled—a naughty, knowing smile that seemed to say she enjoyed being watched.

That night, Srinu couldn’t sleep. His mind replayed the scene over and over, and he found himself consumed by thoughts of Savitri. He imagined himself in his father’s place, touching her, kissing her, fucking her. He lost count of how many times he jerked off to her.

After that fateful day, Srinu couldn’t meet Savitri’s gaze without his heart pounding. Fear gripped him every time he thought she might tell his father. The very idea of his father’s wrath, his belt or stick, was enough to make him sweat. But to Srinu’s astonishment, Savitri’s behavior toward him changed in a way he had never anticipated.

She no longer regarded him as a shy, innocent boy stealing glances at her cleavage. Instead, she began playing a mischievous, seductive game of cat and mouse. She started her teasing as soon as She entered the house. She used to look at him teasingly while tying her hair into a bun. Her teasing felt deliberate—catching his lingering stares, she’d either feign anger with a sharp look or smile knowingly, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

Often, she’d adjust her pallu to show him even more of her boobs, watching his reaction with amusement.

At times, when Srinu dared to follow her, she’d glance back over her shoulder and gesture subtly toward her hut, her eyes seemingly asking, What were you doing at my hut that day? Each interaction left Srinu flustered, his heart racing, his mind spiraling with fantasies he couldn’t control.

This continued for days, building up an unbearable tension inside him. One day, unable to resist the pull any longer, Srinu found himself sneaking back to Savitri’s hut. Approaching cautiously, he peeked through the familiar broken window. But this time, to his dismay, the hut was empty.

Just as he began to wonder where she was, he felt a sudden tap on his head. Fear shot through him like a bolt. He turned slowly, half-expecting the furious face of Savitri’s husband—or worse, his father. Instead, it was Savitri herself. She stood there, arms crossed, pretending to scold him.

Savitri ( mock-sternly): "What are you doing sneaking around my hut, you naughty boy?"

Srinu, caught red-handed, stammered, his words tumbling over themselves: "I...I was just...I wasn’t...I didn’t mean to—"

Savitri laughed at his panic, then teased, "Shall I go tell your father what you’ve been up to?"

She took a few steps toward his house, and Srinu, terror-stricken, grabbed her hand and pleaded desperately: "No, Aunty! Please don’t tell him. I promise I won’t do this again!"

Savitri, still laughing, turned back toward him. "You say that now," she said, her eyes twinkling, "but tomorrow, you’ll be back to staring at me like a hungry puppy."

Srinu shook his head fervently. "No, Aunty! I swear I won’t even look at you again!"

Savitri stepped closer, her playful smile never fading. She leaned in, placing one hand on the wall behind him, her ample cleavage brushing against his face. Her delicious armpit sweat smell filling his nostrils.

Savitri ( sultry whisper): "Are you sure? You won’t even peek at me anymore?"

Srinu was speechless, his eyes locked on the breathtaking view of her cleavage, mere inches away. He felt his resolve crumbling.

Savitri leaned in closer, her lips brushing his ear as she murmured.

Savitri ( whispering): "Do you want to do what your father did to me that day?"

Her words stunned him. He stared at her, wide-eyed, trying to gauge whether she was serious. When he realized she wasn’t joking, he nodded eagerly, his fear replaced by an overwhelming desire.

Savitri smiled wickedly and, without warning, kissed him. Her lips were soft yet demanding, and Srinu felt his knees weaken. This was his first kiss, and it was nothing short of divine.​