Chapter 15 – Her Side of the Night
When Raj’s “Yes” lit up her phone screen, Meera bit her lower lip, her heart pounding. That one word was like a key turning in a lock they’d both been circling for months. She could feel her thighs press together, heat pooling low between them. She slid the phone into her purse and stepped out of the bathroom, where Robin was waiting, leaning against the hallway wall with that confident half-smile that made her stomach tighten.
His eyes swept down her body slowly, lingering where the fabric hugged her curves. “You’re even more beautiful than I remembered from our messages,” he murmured. The way he said it wasn’t a compliment — it was a statement, heavy with possession.
He took her hand and led her into the bedroom without asking, the dim light casting his body in warm golds and shadows. She caught herself staring as he peeled off his shirt — the wide expanse of chest, the smooth lines of muscle, the faint dusting of hair that trailed down his hard stomach to disappear into his trousers. She imagined Raj seeing what she was seeing now, imagined his jaw tightening… and her pussy clenched at the thought.
Robin stepped closer, the heat from his skin wrapping around her before his hands even touched. His fingers found her waist, thumbs pressing just enough to make her arch into him. The kiss he gave her wasn’t tentative — his tongue slid into her mouth with a slow dominance that made her knees weaken.
He reached for the hem of her dress, but she caught his wrist. “Condom first,” she said softly.
His smirk deepened. “We don’t have to—”
Her voice cut him off, low and certain. “Yes, we do.”
For a second, she saw something flicker in his eyes — respect, maybe even surprise. Even in the haze of desire, she felt a flash of pride. She wasn’t losing herself. She was choosing every step.
The foil tore with a sharp sound. Her dress slid upward, over her hips, over her head, revealing the sheer lingerie he’d chosen for her. His eyes darkened as they roamed her body. “Fuck,” he muttered, hands sliding over her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples through the mesh.
When he pushed her back onto the bed, the silk sheets were cool against her skin. She watched as he undressed — his cock already thick, standing proud, heavier than Raj’s, a different shape, a different presence. She felt the sting of guilt flash through her chest… and then felt it dissolve under a pulse of pure lust.
He knelt between her knees, fingers hooking into her panties and pulling them down slow, his eyes never leaving hers. Then his mouth was on her, hot and wet, tongue swirling over her clit in steady, practiced strokes. She gasped, her hips lifting into him before she even thought about it.
When he slid inside her, the stretch made her mouth fall open. It wasn’t just the size — it was the way he filled her, the way his hips pressed her down into the bed with each thrust. For a few heartbeats she thought of Raj, at home, holding his phone, knowing exactly what she was doing right now. The thought made her tighten around Robin, drawing a grunt from his throat.
His rhythm built, one hand gripping her thigh, the other tangled in her hair. The guilt tried to whisper again — this isn’t your husband — but it was drowned in the heat rolling through her body. Her orgasm hit sharp, her cry muffled against his shoulder as she came hard, shuddering under him.
He didn’t stop until he groaned low, hips driving deep as he spilled into the condom, his body heavy and warm over hers.
They could have ended it there. She could have texted Raj, could have gone home. Instead, when Robin pulled her against him, arm wrapped tight around her waist, she let herself stay.
They dozed, talked in low voices. His hand never left her — tracing her hip, cupping her ass, occasionally slipping between her thighs to tease her until she was gasping again. Twice more that night he took her, slower, deeper, until she was limp against him, her body humming with guilty pleasure.
When he was in the shower, she reached for her phone. Raj’s messages glowed on the screen: Meera? Are you okay? … Please answer. … I’m worried.
She stared for a moment, then typed: Hey babe, everything’s okay… but I want to stay overnight. Will you permit?
The reply came fast: What happened? Tell me what you’ve done.
She smiled faintly, thumbs moving: Will you give me permission?
A long pause. Then one word: Yes.
She set the phone down and lay back, the ache between her legs a reminder of everything that had just happened. The guilt curled beside her like a shadow. But beneath it, burning quietly, was the truth she couldn’t ignore — she wanted this again.
Chapter 16 – The Morning After
The key turned in the lock just after 7 a.m. Raj’s chest tightened instantly.
Meera stepped inside, wearing the same black dress from the night before. Her lipstick was faint now, her hair loose and slightly tangled, her perfume mixed with a darker, muskier scent that didn’t belong to her.
She closed the door quietly and looked at him. For a moment, neither of them spoke — but her smile wasn’t guilty. It was warm, knowing… almost glowing.
She set her purse down, walked to him, and cupped his face in her hands. “Missed you,” she murmured, kissing him softly. He kissed her back, but pulled away just enough to whisper, “Did you really…?”
Her lips curled into a slow, wicked smile. “Raj… you’re like a kid.” She kissed him again, longer this time, tasting faintly of wine. “Yes. You are officially a cuck now.” Another kiss, softer, teasing. “How does it feel?”
His throat worked. She grinned wider. “Your hard cock tells me you’re proud. Hahaha…”
—
She stepped away, bending to retrieve something from her purse. “I have a gift for you.”
When she turned back, she was holding a small box. Inside was a sleek silver ring, engraved in neat letters: Meera’s Cuck.
Raj stared at it, feeling the heat rise to his face. She slid it onto his finger herself, then kissed the knuckle. “Now everyone will know who you belong to.”
—
He pulled her closer, hands sliding along her waist. “I want to… be with you. Now.”
She hesitated. “Honey… I’m sore.”
His eyes narrowed. “You didn’t use a condom?”
Without a word, she reached into her purse again and pulled out a small paper bag. Inside were four knotted condoms, cloudy and heavy.
Raj stared. “Four…?”
She gave a shy, almost girlish smile. “Mmh.”
The shock hit him first, then something else — the realization of just how much less he’d been giving her compared to this. This is actually good for her, he thought, the idea hitting him hard. And for the first time, he felt a flicker of genuine pride in being her cuck.
“That’s why I’m sore,” she said matter-of-factly. “I can’t have intimacy right now. We’ll wait till night, okay honey?”
—
He hesitated, then asked quietly, “Can I at least… look?”
She smirked, sliding her panties down and reclining back in the chair. He leaned in, his breath catching at the sight — the folds slightly swollen, a faint redness.
Then he noticed it. “There’s a small tear… do you need to see a doctor?”
She laughed, brushing his cheek. “You really are a kid, honey. This is normal with a bull. That’s why bulls are bulls — and that’s why cuckolding is needed. This isn’t pain. This is pleasure. This is what real sex looks like.”
His face burned. The humiliation was sharp and undeniable.
She reached back, hooking a finger into her waistband to lower her panties just enough to expose the curve of her ass. “However… you can worship my ass right now.” She glanced down at him, her smile wicked and loving all at once. “Save my vagina for the night.”
Raj knelt almost automatically, kissing the warm skin while she leaned back and sighed. And in that moment — humiliated, aroused, and aching — he knew there was no going back.
Chapter 17 – Night of Worship
The lights in the bedroom were low, the warm glow from a single lamp spilling across the sheets. Meera had just stepped out of the shower, her hair damp and falling over one shoulder, a silky ivory robe tied loosely at her waist.
Raj was already waiting, sitting at the foot of the bed. The faint scent of her perfume filled the room — sweet and floral, but underneath, he swore he could still detect something darker, heavier… a memory from the night before.
She moved slowly, luxuriously, the sway of her hips deliberate as she came to stand before him. “Still a little sore,” she said softly, “so tonight isn’t about you finishing. It’s about me… and only me.”
He nodded quickly, his mouth dry.
She smiled, letting the robe fall open just enough for him to catch a glimpse of her thighs. “My pussy’s off-limits tonight, honey. You’ll save that for Robin next time. Your job is to adore me. Kiss me. Worship me.”
—
She sat back on the bed, one leg crossed over the other. Raj knelt between her knees, the silk of her robe brushing his shoulders. When she spread her legs slightly, he caught a brief, forbidden glimpse of her folds — still a little flushed, still marked from the night before — before she covered them with her hand.
“Not tonight,” she whispered, smirking. “That’s for the bull.”
He leaned in, kissing the inside of her knee, then higher, tasting the warm, clean skin of her thigh. She sighed, her hand stroking his hair.
“Last night,” she began, her voice low, “Robin touched me here…” Her hand trailed up her thigh to her hip. “And here…” She cupped her breast through the robe. “You should’ve seen his face when I came. He knew he owned that moment.”
Raj groaned softly against her skin, his cock straining against his shorts.
—
“Say it,” she murmured. “Say you’re proud I’m a hotwife.”
“I’m proud,” he breathed.
“Thank me for letting you serve me.”
“Thank you, Meera… thank you for letting me.”
She tilted her head, watching him with a satisfied smile. “And you’re excited for the next time with Robin?”
There was a pause, then he whispered, “Yes.”
—
She let him kiss almost to her folds — then pulled back. “Not tonight, honey. This…” She turned over slowly, pulling the robe aside to bare the full curve of her ass. “…this is all yours.”
Raj buried his face there, kissing, licking, his hands gripping her hips. She moved gently against him, controlling his pace, her soft sighs and quiet hums making his head spin.
—
Then her phone lit up. “Robin,” she said casually, answering and slipping in her wireless headphones. She leaned forward on her elbows, spreading her ass wider for Raj.
He leaned in again, licking and sucking at her hole as if there was nectar inside. She shivered, her voice low and dirty as she spoke into the call:
“Mmm… yeah, baby, my cuck’s worshipping my ass right now.”
“You like knowing he’s tasting me where you were last night?”
“Mmm… you left me so sore, Robin… I still feel you every time I move.”
“Yes… yes, I’m making him lick deeper… he loves it.”
“Next time? I want you to take me like you own me.”
“I can’t wait to meet you again… I’ve been wet all day thinking about you.”
Raj’s tongue faltered for a second at that last line, but she just reached back, pushing his head firmly against her.
—
Then she rolled over, pulling him up. “Go on, honey. Put it in.”
He guided himself into her slowly — but the moment he pushed inside, his chest tightened. It didn’t feel like before. She was more open, more spacious, and the thought sent a wave of humiliation and heat through him.
She was still talking to Robin, her voice smooth. “Mmm… I’ve got him inside me now, but… it’s not like you, baby.”
That was all it took. Raj’s hips bucked and he came within minutes, groaning as his body gave in.
And just as he shuddered in release, she murmured into the phone, “I can’t wait to meet you…”
