The Cuckold Life of Raj and Meera : Chapter 29

Chapter 29 – Part 1

The sound of the door shutting still echoed in Raj’s head long after Meera had gone.

She hadn’t looked back.

He sat at the dining table, staring at the sealed emergency key. It caught the sunlight from the window — a tiny piece of metal that could end the ache between his legs instantly. But the warning she’d given him last night replayed in his mind:

“Break this without reason, and I’ll keep him all night. Maybe longer.”

He took a deep breath, pushing the thought away, and picked up the phone. It was 8:43 a.m. The first missed call wouldn’t come for hours.

Stay busy, he told himself.

—

He started with the car. The morning was cool, the sun not yet too hot. Soap suds slid over the bonnet as he worked the sponge in slow, deliberate circles. But every few minutes, an image slipped in — Meera stepping into Robin’s place, her dress swaying, heels clicking.

A pulse of jealousy hit him so sharp it made him blink hard. He stopped, leaning on the hood, breathing deep. It wasn’t just jealousy — it was an ache, a strange mixture of dread and… pride.

The cage pressed against him, reminding him of its presence with every shift of his thighs.

By the time the car gleamed, his mind was humming. She’s somewhere in this same city… free. About to touch, to kiss, to…

He shook his head, grabbed the bucket, and moved inside.

—

The laundry basket waited in the corner. Folding her clothes was almost meditative, until his fingers brushed the thin fabric of her lingerie. The scent of her perfume still clung to it faintly. He swallowed, trying to focus on neat corners and straight lines, but his body was already reacting — the cage tugging uncomfortably with every heartbeat.

—

By late morning, he had to pee. He went into the bathroom, shut the door, and sat down — the only way now. The cold seat pressed against him as he positioned himself carefully.

The stream started slow, almost hesitant.

And then, mid-flow, the thought landed like a punch:

She’s free somewhere… wild… touching, kissing, moaning… while I’m here, struggling just to pee.

The humiliation hit him like a shockwave, and his cock tried to harden inside the cage. The sudden pressure cut the stream off entirely.

He sat there for nearly a minute, unable to finish, breathing faster, feeling the cage bite into him.

He leaned back, closing his eyes. Every little struggle now felt like part of the game — her game. She was out there, untethered, and he was locked in place, fighting with the most basic functions of his body.

Chapter 29 – Part 2

The ride over had been a quiet hum in her mind — the city slipping past the window, her heart thudding with a rhythm she hadn’t felt in years. By the time Robin’s apartment came into view, the faint ache of guilt she’d carried was gone. Raj was at home, locked, occupied… and she was here, free.

The door opened.

Robin stood there in nothing but a loosely knotted towel, beads of water still trailing down the lines of his chest. The light from the hallway caught on the smooth plane of his stomach, disappearing into that deep V that led beneath the towel. Her eyes drifted lower, caught for a moment by the clear shape pressing against the fabric — heavy, deliberate, almost defiant.

She stepped inside, but couldn’t help glancing back when he turned to close the door. The round curve of him — firm, tight, inviting — made her pulse quicken. A wild thought darted through her mind: I want to taste him there. It shocked her with its own boldness. She smiled to herself, silently vowing Raj would never know that part.

—

He moved in on her instantly, his hand claiming her waist, the other sliding into her hair as his mouth met hers in a slow, deep kiss. It wasn’t just lips; it was ownership, heat, the kind that left her breathless before she’d even exhaled.

When he pulled back, it was only to trail his mouth along her neck, tracing the hollow of her collarbone, finding the swell of her breast and grazing it with the barest nip. Her dress loosened under his touch, slipping from her shoulders and pooling at her waist.

He didn’t rush. His mouth lingered — warm, deliberate — as though memorizing her. She held onto his shoulders, feeling the ripple of muscle under her palms, until he began to lower himself, dragging his mouth down her body.

—

By the time he sank to his knees, the towel had fallen away.

Her breath caught.

It was… sculpted, in its own way. Not just the size, though that was undeniable — the kind of size that made her feel instantly smaller, more delicate — but the sheer weight of it, the way it seemed alive, the faint pulse in it. She reached without thinking, fingers wrapping around the heat of him, watching the way it flexed at her touch.

When she leaned forward, her lips brushed the smooth length, and the taste of him — warm, faintly salty, completely male — filled her mouth. She sank further, slowly, savoring the way he reacted with a low groan, his hand tightening in her hair.

—

Later, in the bedroom, she gave in to the thought that had been with her since the door: she pressed him down, her hands parting him just enough to expose him completely, and bent to taste him there. His breath caught, then broke into a sound halfway between a growl and a moan. She let her tongue explore, teasing the sensitive skin, drawing circles, feeling the way his body tensed and trembled.

It was wicked, filthy, and yet it felt like claiming a piece of him no one else did. She knew — this moment, this particular act — would stay locked inside her, a secret she’d never share with Raj.

—

When he pulled her up, his mouth was everywhere — tasting, biting lightly, coaxing sounds from her she didn’t think she could make. She was already lightheaded when he turned her, lowered her, and began exploring her in turn. His lips pressed to every curve, every hollow, until his mouth found the place she never thought a tongue could reach.

It was all heat, pressure, and abandon, and by the time he came back to kiss her, she could taste the remnants of herself on his lips.