Chapter 6

Nitin narrates:

I felt like throwing up. I had just seen Komal, my wife, the love of my life, naked in Rahul sir’s bed. Her hair was a mess, she was obviously naked under that bed sheet, and the smell ... the unmistakable smell of sex in the room ... she had clearly been fucked all night.

‘Nitin, I won’t sleep with Rahul ... our marriage vows are important to me.’

Komal’s words echoed through my head. What a load of bullshit that was!

How could she do this to me?

I pressed the elevator button again ... where is that damned elevator?! I needed to get off the penthouse floor, away from Rahul sir and Komal. Away from the sting of betrayal!

The elevator door opened and I quickly got in. And then my overthinking began.

Did I drive her into Rahul sir’s arms? This whole thing ... the ‘ruse’, my idea to have her pretend to be Rahul sir’s girlfriend ... that’s what led to all this.

No ... not just that. It was also me ... getting turned on whenever she told me how she was getting closer and closer to Rahul sir, letting her, even encouraging her to go further.

I should’ve put an end to this the first time she told me they kissed, or maybe when I saw him groping her near the fountain, or maybe when she told me how he made her cum with his fingers, or maybe when ... I could’ve stopped them a LONG time ago. I had no one else to blame, but me, my lust and my perverted brain.

The elevator brought me to the lobby floor, and I immediately started walking towards my room. It was still an hour to the start of my shift and I was in no mood to see anyone until then. I locked myself in my room and sat in the dark, thinking.

Komal’s voice rang through my head again - ‘You are a cuckold, Nutty’

Yes ... that’s who I was. There was no denying it. I’d never realized how much I craved this ... seeing Komal with another man. I knew it was the sick, twisted part of me that wanted this. Did I always want it and I just never realized it before? Or did this twisted desire grow inside me recently, like some weed?

How does one end up like this? A cuckold. Was there something wrong with me? Was I a sick fuck for getting turned on by the thought of my wife with another man? What would my friends and family back in my village say if they found out? Was I lacking in the Manliness that they all talked about? The shame would be unbearable! The thought of my family finding out that I was a cuckold, that I let Komal be with another man - multiple times - would destroy me!

But then again, I couldn’t deny how much it turned me on - imagining Komal with Rahul sir, naked in his arms or with her lips wrapped around his cock, her body trembling as he made her cum. It wasn’t just the image of her with him, it was the humiliation that came with it, that I secretly craved. Her choosing HIM over me, giving herself to HIM instead of me ... the mere feeling made me hate myself and I loved it!

What was wrong with me?

Especially that day, when I accidentally kissed her after she’d had Rahul sir’s cock in her mouth, it made me feel small, and pathetic. It was the humiliation and degradation stemming from the fact that Komal didn’t even bother to tell me that I’d be sucking on his cum by kissing her ... that’s what I felt. That’s how little she thought of me, like I was nothing.

That’s what I was addicted to, being treated like dirt. I hated feeling that way, but that was the truth!

I thought back to what I saw upstairs mere minutes ago, Komal had broken the one promise she’d given me ... that she would NOT let him fuck her. What I saw clearly told me that they’d fucked ... all night!

Why else did she not come back to her room last night?

I’d waited for her for hours, until I dozed off in the middle of the night. When I woke up early in the morning and realized she hadn’t come back, I panicked.

When I heard that Rahul sir had ordered breakfast for two, delivered to his room, I suspected she had spent the night with him. I had to see it for myself, so I asked the kitchen manager to let me deliver it. I needed to confirm my worst suspicions.

Standing there, in the doorway of Rahul sir’s suite, staring at Komal’s flushed face, and her guilty eyes, and the sheets tangled around her naked body, I didn’t need any more proof. I knew the truth.

I wished she was here to tell me exactly how it happened. What did Rahul sir say to her, how exactly did he convince her to break her promise? To give up her pussy to him?

Komal’s words echoed in my ears - ‘Only you, my husband, gets to put your dick in me.’

Maybe SHE wanted his dick, it was much larger than mine, wasn’t it? Maybe she craved it?

Maybe she realized that she’d married the wrong person? If a handsome, millionaire playboy with a much larger cock was interested in you ... why would you want a middle class hotel supervisor?

Maybe she begged him to take her, to fuck her, to make her his? Maybe she saw me for the pathetic, weak, cuckold I truly am?

My brain was overloading with all the torturous theories it could come up with, each one more degrading than the other.

Suddenly there was a knock on my door. No, not the front door. But the connecting door between mine and Komal’s room. Only one person would knock there.

I wasn’t sure if I was ready to face her yet. Komal knocked again, more insistent this time. Finally, I relented and opened the door and without seeing her face, went back to my bed and sat there.

Komal closed the door behind her and stood before me, her arms crossed over her chest. She was wearing the same dress she was wearing last night. ‘Better than a fucking bedsheet’, I thought to myself. I still couldn’t raise my eyes to see her.

“Nutty,” Komal said breaking the silence. Her voice soft but firm. “I know you’re upset, but it’s not what you think. Rahul didn’t ... we didn’t ... do it!”

“What?” I was stunned but also naively hopeful. “You ... didn’t have ... sex?”

Komal was silent for a second, but it was a second too long.

“We did have ... sex ... but it’s not what you think ... I didn’t break my promise to you.”

I was thoroughly confused. “Komal, what are you saying...”

“We had ... anal sex, Nutty.”

“You did ... what?” words were failing me. Not in a million years did I expect this turn of events.

“We had anal sex. He ... Rahul ... was trying to put his cock in my ... vagina, so I had to stop him, so ... this was the only way I could think of. It was a spur of the moment thing,” Komal explained calmly while my brain was exploding.

“Spur of ... Komal ... how did you even ... why did you ... when were...”

“Nutty, look ... I know it’s unexpected ... but if you think about it, isn’t it a better alternative?”

“Wha ... how is it better ... why did...” my voice was getting squeakier, and my heart beating faster. She really did it! She wasn’t lying!

“Nutty, look at it this way - I am not breaking our marriage vows, but still keeping Rahul interested. See ... my vagina is still off limits to him, but this way...”

“But you were already giving him blowjobs, and I just got comfortable with that, why is that not enough?” I asked, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and confusion.

“I guess ... I guess he wanted ... more?” Komal said, her voice soft, averting her eyes from me. “He ... he was persistent, Nutty, so I...”

“Did he force himself on you?”

“No! NEVER ... not Rahul, he would never do that!” Komal said, her voice firm.

I was surprised and a bit jealous at how quickly she defended him. She continued.

“I just knew ... I knew that’s what Rahul wanted ... so ... I offered him an alternative. Nutty, think about it ... this way he gets to have ... his fun ... and OUR marriage stays intact.”