Friends, my name is Vikram Sharma. I live in Gomti Nagar, Lucknow. I’m an Area Manager at a private insurance company. In appearance, I’m an ordinary man — five feet nine inches, body isn’t loose thanks to the gym. My cock is around seven inches.
My wife’s name is Nisha. Twenty-five years old. From Kanpur. Wheatish complexion, big black eyes, thick lips that always look slightly moist, as if she’s just eaten something. Height five feet two inches. Figure thirty-six, twenty-eight, thirty-eight. Her breasts were heavy even before marriage; after marriage, I squeezed and massaged them so much they swelled out even more. Her nipples are large and deep brown. Her waist is slim, her ass heavy, round, protruding outward. When she walks, both buttocks move up and down as if deliberately trying to make men on the street hard. Whether in a saree, suit, or jeans — that ass doesn’t hide. When I went to see her for marriage, it was her ass that made the decision first.
Three months before marriage, we had sex for the first time at an OYO in Kanpur. That night I thought Nisha was a virgin. Her cunt was so tight that when the tip went in, she clenched her teeth and gripped the bedsheet. Some blood came out too. When I asked, she cried and said I was her first man. I started loving her like a madman. Today I know it was a lie. The blood was probably from nails or hard thrusts, not virginity.
But back then I was crazy. In a year and a half of dating, I fucked her many times — at OYOs, in the back seat of the car, once on the terrace of her maternal home at midnight. Whenever I asked to fuck her ass, she’d refuse strongly and say it would hurt there. I was so naive that I believed everything she said. Now I know that place already belonged to someone else.
Nisha’s father passed away when she was eleven. She lived with her mother and younger sister in an old neighborhood in Kanpur. She had more male friends than female ones. She went to college from home but returned late. I never asked too much. That was the mistake. The man who doesn’t ask for a list of his woman’s old friends, one day stands outside the window watching his wife’s ass on someone else’s tongue.
This incident happened about six months after marriage. Around Raksha Bandhan, we had gone to Nisha’s maternal home. The plan was to stay three nights. The first day was normal — relatives, sweets, Nisha’s mother’s love. Nisha wore a yellow saree that day, so tight on her ass that when she sat, the fabric went between her buttocks. I went to the kitchen once to press her ass from behind, and she elbowed me, saying, “Not here Vikram, Mom is here.” She laughed. At that time, nothing seemed off.
The next day, after noon, a call came on Nisha’s phone. She went to the kitchen and almost closed the door. The voice was low but the laughter was clear. When she returned, her cheeks were flushed. She said, “Vikram, Siddhu has come. He’s a childhood friend, Nisha considers him a brother. She used to tie him a rakhi on Raksha Bandhan. We have to meet him this evening, will you come?”
Siddhu, that is, Siddharth Mishra. Around thirty years old. He used to live next door to Nisha when she was young; they played together. Then his family shifted to Delhi; he did engineering and started working there. Now he was visiting Kanpur for two weeks’ vacation. I said okay, let’s go. But inside, I felt slightly strange because Nisha’s face was glowing the same way it used to on video calls before marriage when we would get naked.
In the evening, we reached his house. A small two-story building; downstairs lives Siddharth’s mother, who also looks beautiful — doesn’t seem a day over forty. Siddhu’s old room is upstairs, which he now uses during vacations.
When we reached home, Siddharth met us at the gate. Around six feet, wheatish, good gym body, a black tattoo on his left arm. Seeing Nisha, he laughed and hugged her. While hugging, one of his hands slipped from her waist to right on the upper round part of her ass and pressed for a full second. Nisha didn’t move; instead, she patted his shoulder. I saw and smiled, ignoring it. A man makes the same mistake when he doesn’t want to doubt his wife.
Inside, we had tea and snacks. Then Siddharth started talking — about buildings, work, vacations. Nisha was laughing at everything he said as if some old lover had met after years. Their eyes would meet and not break. After half an hour, Nisha got up, “I’m going to meet Roshni,” Roshni is my wife’s friend, but she doesn’t talk to her much; only meets sometimes when she comes here.
“You stay here Vikram, I’ll be right back.” Siddharth immediately said, “It’s getting dark, I’ll come along — there are many dogs here.” I said, “Then it’s fine, I’ll come too.”
Nisha looked at me, eyes wide, “You stay here, Mom is alone. We’ll be back quickly.” Looking at me innocently, she said. Siddharth’s mother was watching a serial on TV, sipping tea.
I said, “Fine, come back quickly — we have to go home too.”
Nisha: “It’ll take some time, just going and coming back,” she said smiling.
Those two left the house, but I didn’t feel like they were going to meet someone. As soon as they went out, I looked back and saw both of them holding hands.
I also followed them to see where they were going. Roshni’s house was just one lane away.
Holding hands, they reached the house. The building is such that one side has an old house, and the other side has a new one. The old house just has stuff stored; no one comes or goes there. I saw them look around and quickly climb the stairs.
I also came up the stairs silently without making noise. On the first floor corridor, there was a window with a white curtain; the bulb’s light inside made shadows dance. I held my breath and moved the curtain aside with one finger.
I saw Siddharth pressing my wife against the wall, sucking her lips. And Nisha’s hand was moving on Siddharth’s cock. Both were lost in each other’s arms.
At first I felt very angry — I should go in and catch them red-handed. But then I thought, what if they blame me instead. Then Nisha’s voice came, “Ahh… Siddharth, hurry up.”
Hearing this, Siddharth turned Nisha toward the wall. And knelt down behind her. He pulled down her black leggings and panties together to her knees. Her naked ass was right in front of Siddharth’s face — slightly moist with sweat, both roundnesses caressed. The crack between her buttocks was deep and the hole was dark brown.
Siddharth held her hips with both hands, spreading them, and started licking her asshole with his tongue. Like a dog cleaning a plate. Sometimes the tongue would lick around the hole, sometimes slide down to her pink cunt lips, opening both lips and running his tongue in between, then back to her ass. Nisha had one hand behind, holding his hair, and was whimpering in a suppressed voice, “Ah… Siddhu… slowly… someone will come… crazy… hurry…”
Siddharth spoke without removing his mouth, his voice buried in her ass, “Your husband is sitting at home drinking tea, and here you are getting your ass licked. Met for the first time after marriage, bitch, won’t let you go so soon.” Nisha laughed, that laugh came out trembling, “Shut up. Met you after four months. Had gotten used to your tongue. My husband just fucks. If he licked like you, how much fun I’d have.”
My legs trembled. Four months — meaning even two months after marriage, this didn’t stop. Before marriage, it must have continued even more. I stood holding the window frame. And kept stroking my cock over my pants. I felt ashamed of that hard cock too. I kept thinking that if I had licked and done all this, maybe I wouldn’t have to see this.
Siddharth got up and turned Nisha around. Both mouths stuck together. Tongue in and out again, lips being sucked as if eating some fruit. Siddharth’s both hands were moving on Nisha’s naked ass, fingers sunk in the crack. One finger went into her asshole, the other started caressing her cunt. A sound came from Nisha’s mouth but she didn’t stop kissing.
He lifted her kurta up, pulled it over her head. Inside was a red bra, breasts falling out of the bra. Siddharth pulled the bra up, both nipples came into the air. Put his mouth on one, sucked hard, bit lightly with teeth too, went to the other side. Nisha’s back arched like a bow from the waist. She was holding his head pressed to her chest, “Drink my milk… suck hard… after marriage no one has drunk them like this… Vikram just presses, doesn’t drink like this…”
Hearing all this, I started thinking. Why didn’t I do all this, thinking my wife wouldn’t like it. And Nisha was enjoying exactly this. I started cursing myself — why didn’t I do all this, you motherfucker.
After drinking milk for more than ten minutes. The nipples became dark-red, wet. Then Siddharth opened his jeans’ chain, and pulled down jeans and underwear together. Nisha immediately knelt down as if this was routine. Held his cock as soon as she sat. According to my estimate, his cock didn’t look much bigger than mine, actually smaller than mine, but his tip looked thick.
Nisha was stroking it with both hands, brought her nose forward to smell it, then ran her tongue on the hole of the tip, circled the tip with her lips and started sucking like sucking the seed-end of a mango. Sometimes she would take the whole head in her mouth and try to take it to her throat, sometimes just run her tongue down the vein underneath.
Siddharth started holding her head and slowly pushing into her mouth. Nisha’s eyes became wet, kajal spread slightly, but she didn’t stop. Gulp-gulp, gup-gup sounds started coming. A thread of her saliva was hanging from his cock. Siddharth said, “You’ve become a married woman, but sucking cock is the same as before. Your eyes would water then too, and you wouldn’t stop.”
Nisha took the cock out of her mouth, without swallowing the saliva back, took a breath and said, “This is what you taught me then. You forcefully taught me at that time, and see, even now my body can’t leave this habit. Vikram doesn’t even ask to do what I like.”
Hearing this, I opened my pants’ chain, took out my cock and started masturbating. Watching my Nisha.
After Nisha sucked for some time, Siddharth lifted her up. Threw away her leggings and panties to one side. Then stood her against the wall again, hands on the wall. Put spit on his cock, rubbed it on her ass crack, placed the tip on the hole. Nisha immediately said, voice breaking, “Don’t take my ass today Siddhu. We’ll be late getting home, Vikram might get suspicious. Put it in my cunt, finish quickly. We’ll meet tomorrow.”
Siddharth laughed, stomach pressed to her ass, “Your cunt must be fucked daily by your husband in Lucknow. This ass has been mine for years.”
Still Nisha remained stubborn. She herself took her hand back, held his cock and placed it at her cunt’s mouth. “Put it inside…”
Siddharth thrust once, half went in. Nisha’s breath broke, “Ahhhh… yours has become thick… what do you eat in Delhi…” Second thrust and the whole cock disappeared into her cunt. Siddharth held both her breasts from behind, twisted the nipples and started pounding.
Nisha’s palms were slipping on the wall. With every thrust, her ass hit Siddharth’s stomach — thap thap thap, the sound of heavy flesh started coming. Nisha was cursing in a suppressed voice and also speaking, “Hit hard… more inside… motherfucker press that spot… yes there… fuck…”
Five minutes of fucking against the wall. Nisha’s thighs had started trembling. Siddharth pulled her without taking out his cock, made her a bitch. Ass up, waist down. And holding both sides of her waist, he started pounding like a machine. Nisha’s ass would shake, spread, and sit back with every thrust.
Siddharth squeezed a whole piece of her ass with one hand, took out the finger of the other hand from her wet cunt and started circling it on her asshole, round and round, then pressed. Nisha screamed, “Don’t put your finger… I have to go home… it’ll leave a stain…”
Siddharth didn’t listen. The finger went in one pore. Nisha’s waist trembled as if electrocuted. “Bitch, how many times have you gotten your ass fucked by your husband after marriage?” Nisha answered late, breath breaking, “After you, only Vikram fucks my cunt… maybe he doesn’t enjoy fucking ass…”
Siddharth said, “That’s why you get it fucked by me, your ass.”
Nisha just shook her head, and before she could say anything, Siddharth took his cock out of her cunt. Water from her cunt and his dripped. Put spit on his cock and hole. And placed the tip on her asshole. One jerk. Just the tip went in. Nisha screamed, “Motherfucker… I refused, didn’t I, don’t fuck my ass.”
Meanwhile Siddharth gave a second jerk — half the cock went in. Nisha’s hands trembled, “Take it out… it hurts Siddhu… please leave it today… tomorrow I’ll give it… do whatever you want…”
Siddharth wasn’t going to stop. Slowly, slowly, clenching his teeth, he gave a full hard thrust and it all went in. Then stopped, started rotating his cock inside in circles. “Ahhhh… you pimp motherfucker tore my ass…”
After two-three minutes, the tone of Nisha’s whimpering changed. The sharp pain-filled voice became deeper. She herself started pushing her ass back, small pushes.
Siddharth started cursing — whore, slut, wife who gets up from her husband’s bed and goes crazy for my cock, married woman who gets her ass fucked wearing wedding sindoor. Nisha couldn’t make full sentences in response, only fragments were coming out, “Fuck… fuck my ass motherfucker… finish it today… not slow… now put it hard…”
Ten-twelve minutes of ass fucking continued. Siddharth’s stomach had the imprint of Nisha’s ass. Then he pushed hard inside, his waist stiffened, and he came right there in her ass.
His cock fluttered inside, many times. When taking it out, thick white came out with the cock from the hole, a line flowed down to her thigh. Nisha remained there as a bitch. Breath was heavy, ass open, hole slightly open and juice was falling down, as if a door hasn’t fully closed yet. Both were looking at each other, smiling and panting.
Nisha: “Now let’s go, otherwise Vikram might get suspicious, then we won’t be able to meet like this.” Both quickly wore their clothes. I also quickly fixed my cock. And quickly reached Vikram’s house.
When I reached home, I saw her mother was still watching TV. I sat next to her and started watching TV.
She asked, “Where had you gone, son?” “Nowhere, just walking outside,” I said. Her eyes were moving over me. When I realized my cock was clearly visible through my pants. So I put a pillow on my cock, she saw, laughed at me, and started watching TV.
Ten minutes later both came; they looked happy. Nisha said, now let’s go, it’s gotten quite late.
I made a slightly good face and said, “Fine, let’s go.” Siddharth and Nisha looked at each other, and Nisha and I went outside.
The whole way I was feeling disgusted at Nisha, and so much anger at Siddharth, don’t even ask. But I was calming myself. I decided that now I would make them enjoy forward, I won’t leave these two.
Nisha: “What are you thinking, yaar? You’re not even saying anything — Aunt didn’t say anything, right?” Saying this, she tried to hold my hand. But before that, I removed my hand, “I was thinking. Let’s stay one more week.”
Hearing this, Nisha became happy, “I was also thinking we should stay a few more days, then we’ll go, who knows when we’ll come again.”
When we reached home, my (mother-in-law) Mom was asking where we had wandered for so long.
Nisha: “Mom, we had gone to Siddharth’s house, and got late there.”
Then we ate and went to sleep. While sleeping, Nisha wanted to stick to me and sleep. But I pushed her away, “What’s wrong with you… why are you running away from me like this. You didn’t even let me hold you on the way. And now too. If I made some mistake, sorry Baba…” and tried to hold again.
I pushed her away again, saying, “Let me sleep, you sleep too, it’s quite late now.”
Turning my face the other way, I started sleeping. She also turned her face the other way and started sleeping. My mind was spinning — what should I do now to teach these two a lesson. Then a plan came to my mind.
This story didn’t end for me that evening. Rather, that evening the story of revenge began.
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Happy reading—and enjoy the dark.
Disclaimer: This is an English translation of an original Hindi story, produced with the help of artificial intelligence translation tools.