Driving home, I thought about the ‘surprise’ my wife would have in store for me. It was my 40th birthday, so maybe an expensive gift along with the well-known ‘surprise’ cake, or some roleplay, perhaps.
Then I got a tell-tale text message from the sweet wife, “Jaanu, come soon. We’ll have dinner together.” I smiled to myself. The SMS could mean that she probably ordered food and invited some friends.
I parked and wiped my face with a wet tissue. Then I braced myself for ‘Happy birthday’ shouts since they would all be waiting inside, just behind the flat door.
Alas, nothing! The door opened slightly, and my wife quickly walked back into the kitchen. The lights were off, and a single scented candle was glowing on the table. I went to the bedroom and changed quickly. The bed was well made.
I was still trying to guess. Did I miss something? Was she upset? Maybe she’d given me a task, and I’d forgotten. Then the shock of my life. The wife called out, “Soda or neat?” My heartbeat increased rapidly, and I looked around nervously.
Even in the dim rosy light, it looked like my home. I enjoyed an occasional peg to set the mood for sex. Usually, scotch with soda and ice or simply on the rocks. But something was off! I couldn’t believe my wife would make me a drink. Even if she did, something was still sounding strange.
“Soda and ice, baby,” I replied cautiously and sank into the sofa. I heard the hiss of club soda, then she came up from behind and handed me the drink. I took a sip. A slender arm went around my neck, and she dropped right next to me. I almost choked, spilling my drink a little, and exclaimed, “Yogi!”
Immediately an “Sshh,” and she wiped my lips with her long fingers. My dick stood up like a pole, and my mind blurred with dark sexual desires. My wife’s favorite black saree was draped around her super shapely figure. Had she slipped something into my drink?
Nervously, I took another sip when she spoke in her sexy crooning voice, “Relax, jaanu, I’m your wife, don’t be shy.”
She was Yogita, my wife’s niece. 21 years old with a sex doll figure. She’s very fair and an inch taller than my wife, about 5’7″. Stats 34-26-34, with perky boobs and thick jet black hair falling till her boobs. I noticed she was wearing a black lace bra instead of a blouse.
Her sharp nose had a ring on the right side. Her slutty, thick lips were slightly open as if inviting a kiss. My dick was now at the full monty, and I was almost sweating. I tried to control myself as my heart begged for raw intercourse.
Maybe it was a trap to check my fidelity. I looked around to see if there was a camera, trying to confirm another theory to crack this mystery. She put her palm on my cheek and cajoled me like a baby. “Jaanu, calm down. It’s only you and me,” and rested my head on the slopes of her naked bosom.
The sweet smell of her skin made me more intoxicated than the whiskey I was drinking. I lifted my head and looked into her big black eyes rimmed with mascara. Her eyebrows were half-shaved and redrawn with high arches. She had long earrings hanging past her chiseled jaw.
Her pure gold skin reflected the warm candlelight. I looked at her narrow waist. She hadn’t put on a gram of weight after one year of her marriage. She crossed her sexy legs and smiled as I rubbed the back of my hand along the curve of her waist, lingering for an extra second over her exposed navel.
She had waxed her entire body. I threw caution to the wind. If it was a trap, I was ready to risk it for this heavenly beauty. I took a gulp of whiskey and put my hand on her face with my fingers entangled in her silky tresses. The moment was ripe. She pouted, and I couldn’t resist further.
We locked our lips and started smooching with our tongues, going in and out with every suckling movement. Her hands went behind my neck, and I never felt any weight when she straddled my thighs. My other hand joined behind her head, massaging her cute ear as our liplock continued.
Still, no one came to interrupt us. My mind resigned from its spy duties, and I decided to enjoy it fully. I had openly flirted with Yogita during her wedding last year. I told her that if she was my wife, I wouldn’t let her out of the bedroom for a week.
My hand was rubbing her silky back. I had mastered a trick to open a bra clasp with one hand. She gasped in surprise as the bra was magically gone when we parted our lips. I pampered her boobs for a second to raise her nipples, then buried my face to suck her tits while exploring her ass.
Her protruding crotch was clearly rubbing on my dick, and she put her soft hand inside my brief to straighten it lengthwise. A slutty “aww” escaped her lips as she measured the girth and length of my member. I released her bust and let her slide down my legs to kneel in front of me.
She looked into my eyes while I saw her take my ball sack into her lips. Slowly she licked my entire scrotum while teasing my cock with delicate touches and occasional kisses. I rubbed her silky head and took another sip of my drink.
Yogi took my entire length into her mouth and started deepthroating with her pretty lips around my shaft.
My phone was blinking with a notification. I touched it by force of habit. It was from my wife. “Jaanu, enjoy with your ‘wifey.’ I’ll see you in a week.” So this was my gift. Yogita would stay over and continue the roleplay as my wife until next week.
I took the last sip and pulled it out of Yogi’s mouth. I lifted her with both hands and dropped her into the bed. In the next second, her saree was off, and I was rubbing her shorn cunt for wetness. She looked down with her mouth open and breathing deeply while patting her clit with two fingers.
I positioned my cock halfway inside and grasped both her milky legs under the knees, then thurst inside to fuck her. She let out an “Aah” and bit her finger in ecstasy as I banged her pussy. She rewarded me every movement with her whines of “Ummah” and “Aah.”
Both of us knew that the first time would be rough. We reached climax one after the other in succession. I pulled out with my cum dripping on her stomach. She wiped the seamen with her fingers and tasted it while smiling like a whore.
Yogi carried on the roleplay and asked me if I loved my new ‘wife,’ meaning her. I tried to push my luck and told her that I’ve always had a fetish, to see my wife with short hair. “That’s it? Let’s go, jaan,” she said and wore her blouse.
We found a nearby unisex salon and asked for neck-length disconnected layers. The barber sprayed water and cut her top hair into side bangs till her jawline. Then he used a thinning razor to remove the bulk of hair from the back to make a nape-length razor cut.
Using thinning shears to reduce thickness, he used a flat iron to smooth the neck length layers. Yogita had turned into a sex bomb with a lot of movement in her short hair.
We kissed in the car like a real husband and wife, in full traffic, at the signal. Yogi went down to give me a blowjob while I was driving. I finger-combed her short layers as she rested her head in my lap with my cock almost touching her throat from inside.
On returning home, we started undressing in the lift itself. She dropped on the bed and took my cock into her sweet cunt. I stroked deeply, fucking to cum inside her while she pulled me closer for a deep smooch. “Say, my name, baby,” she commanded.
As soon as I said “Yogita,” my hot jizz leaked inside her, and she enjoyed her first orgasm. I was still hard and kept fucking for another minute until she got another climax as a second wave. I’d never felt a thing, but she’d bit my shoulder and scratched my biceps.
That’s when I noticed the big dragonfly . I held her pretty face and told her seriously, “Baby, I lied. One week is not enough.”
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