Aarav rolled Shweta’s nipples between his thumbs, making her moan loudly. “They’re bigger. Softer. Made to be touched, not hidden in lace.”
Rohan smirked, his voice low in her ear. “Hear that, baby? He’s already ruined for you. He’ll never look at Priya’s tits the same way again.”
Shweta whimpered, arching her chest into Aarav’s hands, her nipples already stiff under his thumbs. “Mmm. I love it. Tell me more, Aarav.
Aarav’s voice came rough, almost reverent. “They’re incredible. Heavy. Warm. Like they were meant for me. I could lose myself here. I could spend hours with your sweet tits in my hands.”
Rohan’s hand slid higher on her thigh, his tone silk over steel. “Hours, huh? Then maybe it’s time you stop holding back, Aarav. Maybe you should do more than just touch.”
Aarav’s heart pounded, his eyes darting from Shweta’s nipples to Rohan.
Rohan, unblinking, smirked and nudged him, almost daring him, “Go on. Taste her. Find out if her nipples are as sweet as you think.”
The words created a ripple in all their hearts. Shweta’s breath faltered, her body stiffened with shock. Her eyes darted to her husband’s, scanning his face, searching for refusal, for jealousy. In fact, anything that might anchor her. But instead, what she found pushed her already turned-on state over the edge.
Rohan’s steady gaze, unshaken, holding hers as if he had been waiting for this moment. Her mind spun. Here was the man who had claimed her multiple times in a million ways. The man who knew every inch of her skin, the man who was privy to every moan and groan that she made in bed.
The same man was asking his best friend to get a taste of her, egging his best friend to put his mouth to her breasts and nipples. The tenderness which she had only ever allowed Rohan to feel. The taste was now being offered to a new tongue.
The intoxicating thought was too much for Shweta. Her imagination raced. what would it be like to have Aarav’s mouth on her boobs? Would it be warmer? Would it be different? And how would it feel to allow him to do all the dirty things with her boobs while her hubby, her boo, watched her wide-eyed.
Every inquisitive thought in her mind made her squirm even more. She felt her body heating up with the thoughts, not to mention Aarav’s touch. Aarav’s eyes travelled back from Rohan to her boobs. His expression was fighting disbelief and the hunger of a panther.
Rohan’s hand gripped hers, an unsaid reassurance and maybe even a nudge. He whispered, “Go on, babe. Let him taste you, go on and experience his oral touch.”
The nudge made Shweta arch into Aarav’s palms, causing his restraint to shatter in that instant. Aarav lowered his head, lips hovering just above her nipple. Shweta’s chest trembled, her moan caught between need and disbelief, feeling his warm breath on her tightening areola.
But still, Aarav froze. His mouth is there, so close, yet not taking.
Rohan noticed first. He chuckled, “What’s wrong? Afraid to taste what you’ve been staring at for the last 15 minutes?”
Aarav swallowed hard, his throat dry. He looked at Rohan, hesitating. His voice cracked. “Is this okay? I am so tempted but…”
“Don’t ask me,” Rohan said, steady, slipping a hand behind Aarav’s neck and guiding him down. “Ask her.”
Aarav’s gaze shifted to Shweta. Looking up into her eyes, “Shweta, are you… Do you really… I mean. your boobs. in my…” Aarav found it difficult to string the sentence. As though even speaking it would be blasphemy.
Shweta cradled his head, her palms hot against his scalp. Her heart thundered, her whisper rough but clear and confident. She completed the sentence for him. “Yes, Aarav. My boobs, in your mouth!”
She stared down into his puppy eyes. Eyes that showed desperation but also hesitation. She further arched her back, matching his desperation. “Please. I need a warm mouth on my nipples and I need it now!”
Aarav groaned, inching lower, but still kissing around the curves, a light lick, just brushing her flesh. His lips grazed the swell above her areola, a reverent touch, as though the skin alone might undo him. Shweta’s gasp shook her body, her hand fisting his hair.
“Mmmm. Aarav. Please,” she begged, trembling. “I can’t take this teasing anymore. I need it.”
That plea broke him. He lowered his lips and brushed them along the nipples before engulfing them into his mouth. Before Shweta could process it, he sucked them with all his might. Shweta felt as though her soul had been sucked out of her body.
The pleasure of it made her arch her head back, the fabric of her panties biting into her thigh joints. She saw Rohan’s face, upside down, as Aarav sucked a second time. The scene was almost meta for her, as though Aarav was sucking her away from her husband.
Shweta found it impossible to hold back. The sound that left her mouth was primal, sharp and unrestrained. It would have woken up the entire building. That groan made Rohan’s chest squeeze tight. For a moment, he wasn’t in this room anymore.
He was back in his hostel room, years ago. After nearly four years of loving her with every kind of patience but no real touch, except kissing. Shweta had finally let him past her clothes. That memory swam into his mind with even more clarity.
A wet kiss broken by her moan, “Rohan. I think. I think I’m ready for more.” With trembling hands and eyes locked onto his, she had unclasped her bra. Rohan had waited with bated breath to see them uncovered.
His senses heightened to the extent that even the sound of the bra fabric adjusting to the weight of her boobs had made his cock twitch. Even after baring her boobs to him. Shweta had been too shy to allow Rohan to suck them.
It had taken some 2 hours of cajoling from Rohan before she had given the go-ahead. It made him the first man to taste her, to hear her gasp. That single sound had carved itself into him forever.
Aarav was hearing that same gasp at the behest of Shweta’s pleas. She was not the same shy girl. She was a woman, commanding the pleasure she wanted!
“Does he feel what I felt that night?” Rohan thought wildly. “That rush, that awe, that claim?” His cock twitched hard, the jealousy still there but melting, warping into something hotter.
He wasn’t losing Shweta. He was watching her re-live their most sacred moment with his best friend. And the taboo of it made him throb.
Rohan’s whisper hit her ear, low and taunting. “That’s it, baby. Give it to him. Let him taste you like I did the first time.”
The words jolted Shweta. Her own mind raced back to that same memory. Back to her then boyfriend’s arms, on his bed. The night she had finally exposed her boobs to her partner after four years. She recalled the unclasping, his cajoling, pressing her breasts to his face.
She had been so excited, yet restrained with him. And here she was now. Sitting in just her panties, her husband replaced by his best friend. She had given Aarav that same gasp in less than twenty minutes. Four years for Rohan. Twenty minutes for Aarav. It should have filled her with shame.
But instead, it drenched her panties and made her hips buck desperately into Aarav’s mouth. “I have been a good girl all my life. But if being bad feels this good. Maybe I want more of it.”
Rohan nuzzled his nose on Shweta’s shoulders, looking down on Aarav sucking her boobs. Shweta’s eyes darted from Rohan to Aarav. She was trying to absorb how Rohan would be processing his view.
It struck her, “This isn’t me being bad alone. My husband, my lifelong friend and partner-in-crime, my Rohan, is equally part of this debauchery. It’s not just me who gave in to Aarav in twenty minutes. It’s both me and him giving in together.” She clutched Aarav’s head tighter, moaning louder, hungry for more.
“Yes, God, yes, Aarav,” she cried. “Suck them harder. Make me forget everything except your mouth.”
Aarav pulled back just enough to stare, her nipple glistening with his saliva. “Fuck Shweta. You’re unreal. These are so different from Priya’s bigger, Softer, fuller”
Shweta gasped at the filthy comparison, thighs pressing together hard. “Mm. Say it again. Don’t stop saying it.”
Aarav didn’t need to be told twice. “Mmm,” he growled between kisses on her chest, “So much more. Warmer, squishier, fuck, Shweta, they’re perfect.”
Shweta’s chest swelled with pride, pushing her boobs more into his mouth. The pride was not born from being compared to Priya. It was the result of being complimented about her nudity by another man.
Not that she needed validation after Rohan, but the fact that the second man of her life found her attractive beyond words made her body shiver with excitement. She felt shameless about owning the moment.
This wasn’t about her and Rohan. It was about her body being appreciated the way every woman would dream of. She hadn’t thought words could make her ache this much.
“You hear that, babe?” Rohan growled, “My best friend can’t believe what he’s holding. Tell him, baby. Tell him they’re his to touch.”
Shweta’s head tipped back, eyes closed, voice trembling but strong. “They’re yours, Aarav. Touch me as much as you want. I want you to.”
Shweta’s own boldness shocked her. but instead of pulling back, she surged into it.
Aarav kneaded his face into her skin, his tongue circling her nipple again and again as though spurred by every gasp of hers. His cock throbbed painfully against his trousers, straining.
“God, how can she feel this good in my hands? Is it really just her boobs that’re making me crazy, or is it this moment? My best friend was watching me suck his wife’s boobs” He felt like he could lose himself just from sucking and kneading her, just from the needy way she moaned for more.
Rohan’s chest tightened watching her surrender. A flicker of jealousy pricked him again. The sight of Aarav’s mouth and fingers rolling her nipples, coaxing cries from her that used to be his alone. But instead of breaking him, it twisted hotter, sharper, feeding something darker.
His own cock jerked under his trousers. He leaned in, whispering against her temple, “Show him how filthy you are for me, baby. Show him how much you love it.”
Shweta whimpered, dragging Aarav’s hands tighter against her chest. “Yes. oh fuck, yes. I love it. I love his touch on me.” Her words came out ragged, but her body spoke louder. Trembling, arching, her thighs grinding helplessly together.
Aarav stared down at her breasts. The pale swell bounced under his touch, nipples red and slick from his mouth. He couldn’t stop. In fact, he wanted to love them more. Love it with all that he had in him. Instinctively, he brought his mouth to the base of her boobs.
He opened his mouth wide and latched his tongue to as much skin of her boobs as he could. Steadily, he moved the entire length of his tongue from the base of her boobs upwards, riding over her taut nipple. Traversing the entire boob right up to her neck before slurping every inch of her decolletage.
The sudden change in his moves made Shweta cry out, hips jerking as though his words alone stroked her clit. She gripped his hair harder, shoving his mouth deeper into her chest. “Yes. Ruin them. Ruin both of them with your mouth. They’re yours. Suck and lick them raw.”
“Damn,” he rasped, his voice rough, muffled against her flesh. “I could lick these all night. Priya has never made me this horny just from her tits. You’re fuck, you’re something else.”
Aarav’s mouth worked greedily, sucking one nipple until it glistened wet, then dragging his tongue slowly across her cleavage to capture the other. He latched on, groaning deep in his throat, and Shweta’s cry split the air. Her whole body jolted, her panties damp with the rush of heat that shot through her.
“Ah. Yes, Aarav!” she gasped, clutching his head, her nails biting into his scalp. “Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”
Rohan’s breath got heavier from excitement. He’d seen her boobs bounce for him a thousand times. During sex, during their honeymoon, even in playful mornings when she’d tease him by walking around without a bra. But never like this.
Never trembling in another man’s hands, never raw and shining from another man’s mouth. His cock throbbed painfully. “She’s mine. And she’s his now, too.” The contradiction twisted in his gut, and instead of breaking him, it drove him harder into the moment.
“You love it, don’t you?” He asked in her ear, his voice coaxing, “The way he sucks you like he’s starving?”
Shweta whimpered, her back arching so violently that her tits bounced harder against Aarav’s face. “Yes! Ohhh God, yes. I love it, Rohan. I love your best friend sucking my boobs.”
The words detonated something in Aarav. His groan vibrated against her flesh, his suck rougher, wetter. “She said it. She loves me on her. Fuck. She loves it.” His cock strained so hard against his trousers it almost hurt, precum dampening the fabric.
He pulled off one nipple with a wet pop, panting, saliva shining on his lips. His eyes flicked between them both. Feverish, undone. “Rohan. your wife. Man, I swear her tits could make me cum on the spot.”
The dirty confession made Shweta cry out, thighs snapping together, pussy clenching at the thought. She’d been praised before, but this was different. Filthy, reverent, forbidden. She looked at him through heavy-lidded eyes, her voice trembling.
“Say it again. tell me more. Tell me what you see when you look at me.”
Aarav’s jaw tightened, and his words came ragged, like he could barely think. “I see perfection. I see tits. I’ve noticed your curves since that vacation. God, you in that yellow bikini. I tried to look away, but you were burned into me. And now.”
His hands pulled on her nipple to pull her closer, his tongue dragging all over her boobs. “Now they’re mine to taste.”
Rohan’s cock twitched at the confession. He remembered those vacations too, remembered the way Aarav would sneak glances when Shweta stretched out by the pool or on the beach. He’d noticed, and part of him had liked knowing his wife could do that to men, even his best friend.
Now, watching Aarav confess it aloud, he realised how much deeper it went. And instead of pulling her back, he whispered filth to push her further.
“You hear that, baby? He’s been wanting you all along. Look at him sucking your tits. Do you think he is making up for all the time he lost?”
Shweta’s moan broke into a sob of pleasure, her thighs trembling, her pussy soaked. “Yes. I think he is. God, yes. Make up for it, Aarav. Take what you wanted.”
Her desperation jolted him. Not guilt, not hesitation, but something primal. His tongue lashed, working with his hands so that not one inch of her boobs was left bare.
Shweta shook in his grip, her cries shameless now. “Yes, yes, bite them, suck them, feel them, squeeze them. Make them yours! Mark me. Mark me so Rohan can see tomorrow!”
That plea blew away the last shred of restraint in him. He clamped her nipple harder between his lips and then unleashed his tongue on it, flicking it in sharp, relentless strokes up and down, side to side, circling, lashing. It was sudden, frantic, filthy. The kind of hunger she had never felt before.
Shweta screamed, her body jerking. The violent pleasure shot like lightning straight to her pussy, making her gush against her panties. Her whole frame convulsed, and without thought, her hand flew sideways. Clutching Rohan’s cock through his trousers like it was her lifeline.
Rohan groaned, his head snapping back, his cock throbbing hard against her fist. For a split second, he was shocked. His wife grabbed him while another man devoured her tits. But then her grip tightened, and the raw eroticism of it crushed him.
He bent to her ear, his voice rough, primal. “Feel what you did to me, baby? You’re stroking your husband because my best friend is tonguing your nipples raw. Does that turn you on? Does it make you wetter knowing we both want you at once?”
She could barely reply, her hand squeezing him harder, her mouth wide open in ecstasy. “Yes. Rohan. I can’t stop. It’s too much. both of you. it’s too much.”
Rohan chuckled, dark and coaxing. “Then don’t stop. Do it, Shweta. If my cock feels this good in your hand, imagine his. Don’t you want to find out?”
Her breath caught, guilt and lust tangling. “Rohan. No. I can’t. he’s your best friend.”
“Exactly,” he growled, pushing her hand across from him to Aarav. “Which is why I want you to. Hold him for me. Hold him for us.”
Her fingers brushed Aarav’s shaft through his trousers, hot and thick, and she froze. The outline alone felt obscene. Longer than Rohan’s. and her pulse exploded. Slow and unsure, she wrapped her fingers around it. Her entire body trembled from the heat emanating from the object in her hand.
The sheer size of it was dizzying for her. Her moan broke loose, guttural, and she whipped her head sideways, slamming her mouth against Rohan’s. It wasn’t the soft, familiar kiss he had known for years. This one was raw, wild, laced with Aarav’s spit still on her lips.
He felt the new moves of her tongue, messier, more frantic. He tasted Aarav’s saliva on his lips. She smelled different, too as though Aarav had unlocked a new musky body scent which Rohan had never known.
Rohan froze momentarily. “He’s unlocking new things in her, he’s experiencing things I haven’t experienced with her” His hand clutched the back of her neck, groaning into her mouth as his cock pulsed harder in his trousers.
But even as he kissed her, a voice in his head whispered: “She’s not just kissing me anymore. She’s kissing me because she’s holding him.”
But in a fraction of a second, Shweta’s lips were gone. The moment Shweta had grabbed Aarav’s cock, his entire body had jolted. His mouth tore from her nipple in a wet pop as the shock hit him. For the first time in his life, someone other than Priya had their hand on his cock.
And not just anyone. Shweta. Rohan’s wife. His best friend’s wife. Aarav’s groan split the air. His head snapped up from her breast, his chest heaving, eyes dark with a possessive fire. In one sudden motion, he reached up, his hand gripping her jaw.
Tugging her face away from Rohan’s lips, where it had just been a second ago. And then he claimed her mouth himself. Hard. The kiss was brutal. no hesitation, no question. His lips devoured hers, his tongue forcing past, dominating, hungry.
For the first time, Aarav had pulled her physically away from her husband, and Rohan sat there, watching, throbbing. For Rohan, the moment was definitive. For the first time that night, his best friend had claimed his wife.
He sat there looking at them. One who had been his rock since high school, the other who had been his buddy since B-school. And now, they were lost in each other, almost forgetting that he was there. He should have again felt a pang of jealousy.
But the absence of it surprised him. Despite all the excitement, Rohan had a strong rational side. And that side of him growled that this was not him losing Shweta to Aarav, it wasn’t betrayal. It was the most intoxicating present that his wife and his best friend had given him.
He watched his wife, his Shweta, submitting to Aarav, her body yielding, her palm clutching Aarav’s cock tighter as though she owned it. The jealousy was long gone. All he saw was his wife’s lips lost in another man’s, her hand gripping another man’s cock.
Instead of breaking him, it made his cock ache harder. Shweta whimpered into Aarav’s kiss, her body alight. Without thinking, her other hand abandoned Rohan’s cock. It flew upward, shoving under Aarav’s shirt. Her palm pressed flat against his chest and found his nipple, which she massaged.
His skin was hot, damp with sweat, his heartbeat hammering wild against her touch. Aarav pulling her into a smooch detonated something in Shweta. Her body weight shifted completely onto Aarav, making him lean against the couch while she almost lay on him, as though she wanted to be engulfed in his aura.
One hand clutching his cock, the other clawing at his nipple. She had him, all of him, and she moaned into his mouth like she’d been waiting years.
Aarav let out a groan. She felt its vibrations on her lips, making her grip his length even tighter. And as she did that, she felt it. Aarav’s cock growling, twitching and gaining size and weight. He definitely was not the size that she was used to.
She held on to his length for dear life, trying to actualise her emotions all the while stroking and squeezing him and feeling a sense of pride every time his cock twitched, realising that it was she who was making it happen. He was definitely bigger.
“Fuck,” Aarav whispered into her lips. “You’re going to ruin me.”
Shweta looked deep into his eyes. She loosened her grip, cupped the base of his crotch and slid her hand all the way to the top of his cock, trying to sense the entirety of that package. She hissed back at Aarav, “If this night continues like this, you’re the one who is going to ruin me.”
Soft as those words were, they did not escape Rohan’s ears. His heart skipped a beat at the thought of Shweta holding a cock bigger than his. Shweta looked back at Rohan, her boobs heaving with excitement, her eyes wild. Her voice dripped in ecstasy as she gasped:
“Roh, he’s so big. I can barely hold him. Thicker, heavier. Oh God.”
Her words vibrated through all three of them. Rohan grunted, stroking himself over his trousers now, watching his almost naked wife, spread on top of his best friend’s torso, struggling to contain his best friend’s cock in her hand. His mind kept reverberating the same words over and over.
“My wife Shweta, my best friend, Aarav,” He scanned the scene again. Shweta is leaning on Aarav, and Aarav is looking down on her and smooching her. Shweta is sucking on his tongue for life. And then their hands.
Aarav is supporting Shweta’s torso from behind with one hand and stroking her nipples with the other. Shweta massaged his nipples with one hand and gripped his cock over his trousers.
That final scene of Shweta’s hand on his cock made his eyes burn, but not with anger. With awe, hunger, possession and release all tangled. “Hold him, baby. Feel every inch. Let yourself know the difference.”
That’s all for this chapter. If you’ve made it this far. then we are sure you’re going to hang in there for the next. You can write to me and Shweta at [email protected]. Cheers!