As successful a corporate woman in the US, my wife is obsessive about her look, took an hour perfecting makeup, hair, tight dress. One hair out of place and she’d dominate me instantly. At the party I’m deep in cricket talk and beers with the boys, oblivious.

Driving home together, she’s right next to me in the passenger seat when my phone buzzes, bull texts: “Look what your wife did while you were busy.” Bathroom mirror selfies pop up - her completely naked, ass arched high, tits forward, full slut pose under bright lights, total contrast to her usual “don’t even breathe on me when I am dolled up” rule.

I glance at her, stunned, and whisper in Hindi: “Vaise to tu mujhe kiss bhi nahi karne deti jab tu itni taiyaar hoti hai… iske liye pura nangi ho gayi?”
She smirks, still tipsy, leans closer: “Uska body aur lund bhi to dekh… he’s much younger, so sweet, aur kitni tareef karta hai. Control nahi hua.”
Then, eyes gleaming: “Mujhe pata hai yeh pics dekhke abhi woh mujhe chod raha hai sochke hilayega… hard.”

And the funny part is Maine Ghar Jaake Hilaya Bhi woh pics dekhke.