Wife Got Her Friend Fucked

My wife Nidhi is a total firecracker. She’s the kind of woman who not only let me bang her hot friend but also jumped in for a wild threesome. This spicy tale will get your blood pumping, I guarantee it.

Vina, our 28-year-old neighbor, was a stunner—fair, curvy, with a body carved to perfection, 36-28-36, and those big, kohl-lined eyes that could drown you in lust. Her round face, glossy lips like rose petals, and a figure that screamed sex when she walked—her ass swaying and boobs bouncing in tight clothes—could make any guy’s dick stand up. My wife Nidhi, 30, slim with a 34-26-34 figure, had an innocent face but a naughty mind. Me, Vipul, 32, decent build, packing a 7-inch cock that keeps Nidhi happy.

Vina and Nidhi were thick as thieves. They’d sit in the evenings, gossiping about their husbands, giggling like schoolgirls. I’d sneak peeks at Vina from my window when she washed clothes in the courtyard. Her petticoat would ride up, showing off her creamy thighs, and her boobs strained against her blouse, begging to pop out. One flutter of her eyelashes shot arrows through my heart. I’d fantasize about grabbing her juicy ass, squeezing those tits, but she’d only smile and never came over alone.

Nidhi left for her school job every morning, and I’d head to the office after breakfast around 10. One morning, as Nidhi was leaving, Vina stopped her, whispered something, and they both glanced at me, laughing. Nidhi left, and soon after, Vina showed up at our door, dressed in a red saree that hugged her curves like a lover. Her makeup was on point—red lipstick, kohl, the works—like she was ready to seduce. Her boobs peeked out from her pallu, and a sliver of her waist drove me nuts.

“Vipul ji…?” Her voice was pure honey. “Vina ji…? You…?” I stammered, caught off guard. “Won’t you invite me in?” she teased, swaying her hips. “Oh… yes, come in! Welcome!” I blurted.

She stepped inside and said, “Just need a bowl of sugar, ran out at home.” Her smile was wicked, and my breath quickened. “God, you’re fucking gorgeous…” I mumbled. “What was that?” She giggled.

I panicked, rushed to the kitchen, and in my haste, grabbed a bowl of salt instead of sugar. When I handed it to her, she burst out laughing. “Ji, we put sugar in tea, not salt!” “Shit, my bad!” I ran back, and she followed me to the kitchen, pointing out the sugar jar. I filled the bowl properly this time. “Thanks, ji… I’ll return it with interest,” she winked, sashaying out.

“Fuck, what a piece!” I muttered under my breath. “What did you say, ji?” She turned, smirking. “Nothing… just, you should visit more often. Feels nice,” I said, gathering courage. “Alright then, I’m sitting!” She plopped onto the sofa, laughing.

I was nervous, but she steered the conversation effortlessly. We chatted, and I slyly got her number. After that day, we started talking on the phone, especially when Nidhi wasn’t around. Nidhi knew about it but didn’t realize our chats were turning into something deeper—love, lust, the works. Vina would call at night, and we’d talk for hours. Nidhi found it amusing, teasing me about it.

One day, Nidhi grinned and said, “What’s up, ji? Hitting on Vina?” “Nah, she just came for sugar,” I defended. “Sugar, huh? More like sweet-talking!” She laughed. “Honestly, Nidhi, she’s hot,” I admitted. “Then go for it, but remember, you’re mine!” Nidhi winked.

Soon, Vina and I were tight. We’d talk for hours when Nidhi was out, and our feelings grew stronger. She’d call me to the lake sometimes, and we’d steal kisses and gropes. I’d squeeze her ass, caress her boobs, and she’d brush her hand over my hard cock, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

One day, Vina’s husband was at work, and Nidhi called her over. Vina showed up in a blue saree, her black bra visible underneath, her eyes smoldering with desire. I looked at Nidhi, who gave me a naughty wink. Vina blushed, and my cock twitched.

Nidhi led Vina to the bedroom and made her lie on the bed. “Close your eyes, Vina,” Nidhi said. “God, Nidhi, go away now… I’ll handle it,” Vina whispered, shy but eager. “Oh, come on, take his cock first… look how hard it is!” Nidhi teased. “Fuck, I’ll die of shame!” Vina moaned, her voice trembling.

I moved closer, running my hands over her soft boobs. Her body was warm, quivering. Nidhi slid her saree pallu down, her own tits hardening. She rubbed her pussy through her panties. I lifted Vina’s saree, exposing her creamy thighs. Her pussy was pink, smooth, and swollen, like fresh bread. I stared, lost in its beauty.

“Vipul, fuck my darling friend… look at that creamy pussy!” Nidhi urged. “Nidhi, please go… I’m dying of embarrassment!” Vina pleaded, but her eyes screamed lust.

I held her tight. Her pussy was wet, my cock brushing against its entrance. “Oh God… slow… ahhh… it’s in!” Vina cried as I pushed my 7-inch cock inside with one thrust. She shut her eyes, moaning in pleasure. “Aah… don’t fuck me in front of Nidhi!”

Nidhi stripped off her clothes and sat on Vina’s face, pressing her pussy against Vina’s lips. “Suck my cunt, Vina!” she demanded. Vina’s tongue flicked, and Nidhi gasped, “Oh fuck, you suck so good!” I grabbed Nidhi’s tits, squeezing them while pounding Vina’s pussy. The “slap-slap” of my thrusts filled the room.

“Fuck, Vina, you’re getting fucked in all these clothes!” Nidhi laughed, yanking off Vina’s saree. Vina, now naked, curled up in shame, her round, smooth ass sticking out. I couldn’t resist. Nidhi smeared cream on Vina’s asshole, and I positioned my cock.

“What are you doing… my ass? Oh God, no!” Vina cried, slipping into her rustic Rajasthani dialect. “You from Rajasthan, Vina?” I chuckled. “Just fuck me, don’t ask questions!” she moaned.

I eased my cock into her tight ass. “Aahh… I’m dying!” Her moans grew louder as I thrust, the “thap-thap” sound mixing with her cries. Nidhi played with Vina’s tits, and I fucked her ass harder. My cock swelled, and I shot a load of cum deep inside her ass.

“Stop… enough!” Vina panted. Nidhi climbed onto her, rubbing her pussy against Vina’s. Their tits mashed together. “Ohh… Nidhi, I need a cock!” Vina begged. “He just fucked your ass, now it’s your pussy’s turn!” I said, spreading her legs. Her cunt was dripping, hot. I slid my cock in slowly, then rammed it deep. “Aahh… fuck me hard!” she screamed.

I fucked her steadily, her pussy swallowing my cock. “Slap-slap” echoed as she moaned, “Ohh… Vipul… fuck my cunt!” I kissed her lips, squeezed her tits, her body trembling under me. Nidhi fingered her own pussy nearby. Vina came once, silently, but kept going, hungry for more. I sped up, pounding her deep, her pussy gripping me tight. She screamed again, “Aahh… I’m done!” and came hard. My cock erupted, filling her pussy with cum.

Nidhi was desperate now. I fingered her wet cunt, and Vina sucked her lips. “Ohh… Vipul… make me cum!” Nidhi cried, shuddering as she climaxed.

We collapsed, exhausted. Nidhi brought warm milk. “Drink up, get your strength back!” she said. We sipped slowly, but Vina suddenly panicked, dressed quickly, and rushed out.

Soon, we heard her husband yelling, “Where were you? Why’s dinner not ready?” I smirked at Nidhi. “Let her get fucked, it’s his day off, let’s make the most of it!” I flipped Nidhi over, ready for round two.

—End—