My Steamy Story: Divya was modern but traditional woman w...

My Story Time:

Okay, so, full tea? My life is low-key a spicy AF Bollywood plot, and I'm the main character, period. For the longest time, my husband Arjun and I had a dead bedroom situation… for like, twenty years? Big yikes. But the vibe in this big, boujee house? Was always… charged. My father-in-law Digvijay, my own son Rishi, my nephew Nil, my BIL Inder… they all looked at me like I was the last snack on the plate. And honestly? I ate that shit up. I lived for their thirsty stares when my silk saree clung to my tits—I never wore a bra, obviously. It was our little unspoken thing.

Then this whole pandit ji situation went down, and next thing I know, I’m supposedly married to all four of them to “save the family” or whatever. I was shook and high-key reluctant. But then I was like, fuck it, let’s see what they really want. So last night, I decided to spill the tea myself. I put on this backless, deep-cut blouse Nil bought me and went to the home gym where Rishi was working out. His eyes practically fell out of his head. I “stumbled” doing a stretch and he caught me, his big hands sliding right over my waist, his thumbs brushing the underside of my breasts. His dick was already hard against my ass. He whispered, “Maa…” all breathy, and I turned around and just went for it, kissing him deep. I guided his hand under my blouse, moaning as he squeezed my tit, his fingers pinching my nipple. I was so wet, my pussy was throbbing. I unbuckled his shorts, wrapped my hand around his thick cock, and whispered, “Show me what my new husband wants.” And let me tell you, bestie, he was finna give me everything. No cap, I was about to get the dick down of my life right there on the yoga mats. Sheesh.