There is no right or wrong. My best friend Manju and I stay nearby. He’s been my friend for quite some time. I know most of his secrets. He’s blessed with a beautiful wife and two daughters.
Yet he is a horny guy. I can’t blame him. He’s been like that since his youth. Now, being in their mid-30s, both husband and wife are earning very well. He tries his luck on other girls, and he’s successful too.
Meanwhile, I always admired his wife, Lakshmi. She’s smart, beautiful, and she always stood by him during his hard times. I don’t know when the admiration turned into lust. This story is about Lakshmi exploring her kinky side.
Year 2025:
The phone screen lit. Manju was miles away, and his wife, Lakshmi (my Lakshmi), was just a text message away. I’d created the number days ago, a phantom in her contacts, a stranger to tease out her secrets.
‘You seem like a woman who knows what she wants. But does she ever get it?’
The three dots appeared immediately. A jolt of pure electricity shot down my spine.
‘Maybe! Maybe not! Depends on what you think you might want.’
I grinned, my heart hammering against my ribs at her smartness. This was it. The carefully constructed facade of just being ‘Manju’s friend’ was about to be incinerated.
‘I think you want to be seen. Not as a wife. Not as a mother. But as a woman. A hungry one.’
A longer pause this time. I could almost hear her breathing. I can picture her biting her full lower lip, her beautiful eyes wide as she read the words she’d probably never dared to speak out aloud.
‘You’re very direct for a stranger.’
‘I’m not a stranger. I’m the man you wish was in your bed right now. Tell me, Lakshmi. While you touch yourself, what do you think about, honey?’
I waited, every muscle tense. This was the point of no return.
‘I think about hands that aren’t my husband’s. A mouth that knows how to be slow. How to take its time.’
A surge of triumph, hot and fierce, rushed through me. I adjusted myself, the growing pressure in my jeans becoming insistent.
‘What else? So, tell me what you crave the most.’
‘He’s always in a hurry. I want to be… savoured. I want to feel a tongue trace every inch of me until I’m begging. I want to be held down, just a little, to feel that loss of control.’
My own breathing was becoming ragged. I typed faster.
‘And if you could choose? Any man it could be, you know. A colleague of mine, one of Manju’s friends. Who would you want to delight you? Who would you let hold you down?’
The three dots danced. Stopped. Danced again. A minute passed. Then two.
‘There is a guy, Manju’s friend. The quiet one is a gentleman with intense eyes. The one who looks at me like he can see right through my clothes, he sees me like he owns me. ANIL is his name.’
The air left my lungs in a sharp rush. My name. She said my name. I forced my fingers to stay steady, playing the part of the anonymous seducer one last time.
‘You’re confused, my sweet Lakshmi. I’m not Anil.’
The response was instantaneous, a single line that shattered my entire game and set my world on fire.
‘I know it’s you, dear Anil. I’ve known since the first message. I’m not a hoe to respond to all strangers. You thought I’m so cheap or easy to catch?’
I was trying to process what just happened, and suddenly my phone vibrated. It was my Lakshmi. Calling me. I swiped to answer, bringing the device to my ear. I couldn’t speak. All I could hear was the soft rhythmic sound of her breathing.
“Hello, Anil.” Her voice was a low, husky, seductive one that went straight to my balls. It wasn’t the polite tone she always uses when talking to me. This was something else entirely new, something raw and intimate.
“Lakshmi…” I finally managed, my own voice rough with want.
Lakshmi: “All those questions? Asking how I like to be touched. Were you taking notes?”
Me: “Every single one.”
Lakshmi: “Tell me, Daddy (giggling), what you wrote down.”
I could hear the smile in her voice.
Lakshmi: “Tell me what you’d do to me if you were here right now.”
I closed my eyes, picturing it.
Me: “I’d start with your neck. I wouldn’t use my hands. Just my lips. I’d kiss my way along your pulse until I felt it racing under my mouth.”
A soft, shuddering sigh echoed from her end.
Lakshmi: “And then?”
Me: “Then I would move lower. I would peel that nightgown off you, so slowly. I’d spread you out on that bed and look at you. I’d kiss every curve, every shadow. I’d make you wait for it until you were pleading.”
“God, Anil…” Her breath hitched. I heard the rustle of sheets.
Me: “Tell me something, Babe. Are you touching yourself, Lakshmi?”
“Yes,” she whispered, the word a confession.
Me: “Tell me.”
Lakshmi: “My fingers… just circling… Oh… thinking about your mouth…”
“I will replace your fingers with my tongue, honey, so that I can taste the honey,” I growled into the phone. My own hand moving in a slow, steady rhythm, matching the pace I imagined for her.
“I’d taste you. I’d lick you so slowly you’d think you might die from it. I will not stop until I give you big “O”, until you are gripping the bed sheets and screaming my name in pleasure.”
A sharp, strangled cry came from her end, followed by a series of quick, panting breaths. “Anil… I’m so close…”
“Not yet,” I commanded, the authority in my voice surprising even me. “Wait for me. I want to hear you let go and you do exactly as I order. You have to do.”
I listened to the sounds of her pleasure. The soft wet sounds between her legs and the little gasps and moans that were becoming increasingly desperate. Here, my own strokes quickened, a tight, slick friction that had my hips bucking off the bed.
“Tell me what you want, Lakshmi.”
“I want you,” she moaned, her voice breaking. “I want your cock. I want you to fuck me while I tell you all the things I’ve imagined us doing. Please.”
That was all it took. Her raw, unfiltered need shattered the last of my control.
“Come for me, Lakshmi. Now.”
Her cry was sharp and beautiful, a broken sound that echoed down the line. I followed her over the edge, my own release crashing through me with a force that left me shaking, Lakshmi-O-Lakshmi.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of our gasp, and moaning was heard on the phone. The intimacy of it was more profound than anything I’d ever experienced.
“Manju is coming back tomorrow,” she finally said, her voice soft and spent.
Me: “I know Lakshmi.”
Lakshmi: “This will change everything.”
Me: “I know.”
Another pause. Then, her voice dropped to a whisper. “My daughters are sleeping. I’m wide awake because of you, and I’m still so wet for you. What are you going to do about it? ANIL!!”
A breathless silence stretched between US.
‘Yentha Madak idiya?’ (What are you going to do about it?) Was it a challenge or an invitation to me?
My voice, when it finally came, came with authority and command. “First, you’re going to put me on speakerphone. I want to hear everything bitch!”
“It’s done, DADDY,” she breathed.
“Good girl. Now, stand up. Go to the centre of the room.”
I could picture her perfectly. The soft shuffle of her feet on the cool floor confirmed it.
Lakshmi: “I’m here.”
Me: “Are you desperate for me, Lakshmi?”
Lakshmi: “Yes, Daddy!”
Me: “Prove it. Strip. Slowly. I want to hear every stitch of clothing as it falls. I want to feel from here the heat of your skin as it meets the air. What are you wearing now?”
I asked, my own pants feeling impossibly tight.
“Just… just my blouse and petticoat,” she whispered.
“Take them off. All of it. I want you completely bare for me. Prove your devotion isn’t just words.”
The sounds that followed were a symphony of submission. The whisper of silk sliding from her shoulders. The soft rustle of her petticoat string being untied. The final, gentle sigh of the thin cotton as it fluttered down her legs.
“I’m… nude daddy, completely nude except mangalsutra,” she said. Her voice was thick with a mixture of shame and overwhelming arousal.
Me: “Why are you having it still?”
Lakshmi: “I know you love to touch me with Mangalsutra, daddy, it gives you the pleasure of owning another’s wife. Your pride.”
Me: “You read my mind, my dog. Daddy is proud of you. Are you touching yourself?”
“No. I’m waiting for your permission.”
A jolt of pure, primal power shot through me. She was yielding completely.
“Touch yourself, Lakshmi. Run your fingers over your breasts. Tell me how they feel.”
Her moan was soft and broken. “They’re so sensitive… so heavy. My nipples are hard… like pebbles. I’m pinching one, just a little. It sends a shock right through me.”
I could see it. I could see the dusky peaks tightening under her own touch, her back arching involuntarily. “And your other hand. Slide it down. Show me how wet you are for me. For this.”
The moan that escaped her then was utterly shameless, a raw sound of pure need. “Oh god… Anil… I’m dripping. My fingers slide through so easily. I’m so slick, so swollen. I can feel my own pulse there, throbbing.”
The sound of her fingers moving against her own wetness was the most erotic thing I had ever heard. Each soft, slick noise was a testament to my control over her, to the forbidden desire we were both feeding.
“Do you want to be mine, Lakshmi?” I growled into the phone, my own hand mirroring the actions I was commanding from her. “Do you want to be my good girl? To do exactly as I say?”
“Yes!” The word was a desperate cry. “Yes, only yours. I want to be yours. I want to be submissive to you. Please.”
Her readiness, her eager agreement, shattered the last of my restraint. “Then get on the bed. On your hands and knees. Face the headboard.”
I heard the creak of the mattress and the frantic rustle of sheets as she obeyed. Her breathing was ragged now, coming in sharp, quick pants.
“Are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here. I’m on my knees for you.”
“Now, arch your back. Push that beautiful, round ass up in the air. Present yourself to me. I want to imagine spreading you open. I want to picture my tongue tracing every inch of you before I push my cock inside.”
A guttural, choked sob of pleasure echoed from the speaker. “I’m so exposed. I can feel the air… It’s so humiliating… I’ve never.”
“You love it,” I corrected her, my voice a rough whisper. “You love finally being seen. Finally, being wanted like this. Admit it.”
“I love it!” she cried out, her composure breaking completely. “I’ve dreamed of this. Of you seeing me like this. Of you taking me like this.”
The silence of the house was broken by the sound of her pleasure, a rhythmic, wet sound accompanying her escalating moans. I knew she was close. I could hear it in the pitch of her voice. In a broken way, she whispered my name.
“Don’t stop,” I commanded. “Look at yourself in the mirror, Lakshmi. Look at how debauched you are for me. How wanton. And don’t you dare cum until I permit you.”
Her cry was half-protest, half-prayer. “Anil, please… I’m so close… I can’t… I need to…”
“You can, and you will. You’ll hold it for me. Because you’re mine to command.”
I heard her struggling, the rhythm of her hand faltering as she fought the tidal wave of her orgasm. Her breathing was a ragged, desperate thing. I tightened my grip, my own release coiling hot and tight in my gut, fed by the intoxicating sound of her struggle and surrender.
“Please…” she whimpered, the word a broken whisper. “Anil, I’m begging you…”
This story is written with the consent of Lakshmi; she wanted to let her husband know her kinks.
PS: I’m not from Bangalore. (hehe). The names are fake (hehe).
I know Lakshmi is crazy, but I love her a lot. We aren’t betraying you, Manju, just exploring a bit.
Interested submissive slaves who love to surrender to Master/Daddy can reach out to me at [email protected]. I will be waiting for you.