Scene: A quiet evening. The couple—Aarav (the husband) and Riya (the wife)—sit together in their bedroom. A candle glows on the table. Riya’s phone buzzes with a message. She smiles, then looks at her husband, her expression soft but a little tense.

Aarav:
(Looking at her expression)
Was that… Veer?

Riya:
(Nods slowly, a little blush creeping into her cheeks)
Yes… he confirmed the dinner for tomorrow night. He even booked a suite, just in case I… feel ready.

Aarav:
(Swallows hard, voice low)
You mean, ready to… sleep with him?

Riya:
(Keeps eye contact, gentle but firm)
Yes, baby. That’s what he hopes. And honestly… it’s what I’ve been thinking about too.

Aarav:
I… I don’t know what to say. I want this, you know I do. I’ve dreamt of it. Fantasized about seeing you glowing in someone else’s arms…
But now that it’s so real, I’m just…
(He lowers his eyes)
Do you really want to fuck him, Riya?

Riya:
(Moves closer, takes his hand in hers)
Aarav, listen to me. I’ve never said yes to a man beyond you until now. But something’s shifted. I’ve been carrying so much—being a mother, running back from office meetings to cook, plan school events, balance everything. You’ve been supportive, no doubt, but still… it’s heavy.

This… this lifestyle, it’s not about betrayal. It’s about breath. Freedom. And honestly? About me reclaiming the woman inside the mother, the boss, the wife.
And yes… the lover. The desirable, uninhibited, hungry woman.

Aarav:
But… isn’t it selfish? I mean… aren’t I enough?

Riya:
(Leans in, kisses his cheek)
You are. You’ve always been. But “enough” isn’t the same as everything. This isn’t about replacing you—it’s about expanding what we are. You love seeing me explore. You’ve told me how arousing it is to imagine me touched, devoured, praised by another man while you watch from the shadows… aching, proud, aching again.

And you know what, Aarav? I need that too. I want to be fucked like I’m not a mother, not a manager, not someone with a dozen responsibilities. I want to be taken—rough, tender, raw, free.

Aarav:
(His breath catches)
So you’re really going to let him… have you tomorrow?

Riya:
(Smirks softly, teasingly)
Only if you say yes, my love. But yes… I want him to. I want him to take off my dress, spread me on hotel sheets, and make me forget everything except how wet I am, how alive I feel.

But most of all… I want to come home to you after. Tell you everything. Let you taste the night from my lips and thighs.
That’s what cuckoldry is, Aarav—not humiliation, but celebration. The celebration of my desire… with you as its center.

Aarav:
(His eyes darken, arousal mixing with fear)
God… when you say it like that… it doesn’t feel like I’m losing you. It feels like you’re… taking me even deeper.

Riya:
Exactly. This is a journey, and tomorrow might be the first true step. Are you ready to watch your wife become a queen in every room—even on someone else’s bed?

Aarav:
(Nods, slowly, then more confidently)
Yes. I’m terrified. And turned on. And completely yours.

Riya:
(Whispers, leaning in)
Then help me pick out the lingerie I’ll wear when he undresses me. And later… I’ll wear nothing but your name on my skin.