My Boss Ke Ghar Office Ka Kaam, Aur Unki Biwi Ka Bedroom Secret! (B.A.P. Revealed)
SPORT
Sunno, this is the real shit. My desperation drove me here. I’m Ashish, 30, mid-level manager in a Gurgaon MNC. Life was boring—wife, EMI, toxic office politics. Meri shaadi ke 5 saal ho gaye the, and intimacy was dead. My wife, Priya, started focusing only on our kid and saving money. Sex? Once a month, if I begged.
The Bait: Boss's House
Mere boss hain, Mr. Verma. Upper middle-class, 45, sharp dresser, but a total control freak. We had a huge project deadline, so he insisted we work late at his house for a week. Uske ghar mein hum log ke liye ek separate study area tha. His wife, Aarti, was always around—perfectly manicured, always polite, maybe 40, looks 35. She was the kind of woman whose silence screams volumes.
Pehle do din normal tha. Work, snacks, chai. Third night, Verma ji suddenly got a call—urgent client meeting in Delhi. He left around 10 PM, telling us, “Finish up. Don’t lock up. Aarti will be here if you need anything.”
Maine uss raat Verma ji ko bola, "Sir, I'm too tired. Can I crash on your guest sofa?" He laughed and said, "Sure, Ashish. Don’t disturb Aarti."
The Turn: Aarti’s Move
Uske jaane ke baad, study room mein weird silence ho gayi. Maine apne laptop pe kaam karne ka show kiya. Aarti came in with two glasses of Scotch. “Ashish, you look stressed. Take this. Brain ko relax karo.”
She was wearing a silk robe, loosely tied. The perfume hit me—expensive, heavy, intoxicating. I took the glass.
“Aarti Ma’am, thank you. But I should finish this report.”
She walked around my chair, adjusting my collar. Her fingers brushed my neck, and I froze. “Verma ji knows you work hard. But Ashish, sometimes the best work happens when you are... comfortable.”
She didn't sit opposite me. She sat on my lap, the Scotch glass almost slipping. I swear my heart stopped. Her robe slipped slightly. I saw the edge of black lace lingerie.
“Ma’am, this is not appropriate…” My voice was a weak squeak.
She put her finger on my lips. “Shhh. I know exactly what this is. Verma is busy conquering the world. He hasn't touched me properly in six months. I need someone younger, hungrier, who actually appreciates… this.” She gestured vaguely towards her body.
The Descent: Full Fucking Story
Maine ek sip liya Scotch ka, and the world tilted. Woh pehle toh bas baithi rahi, enjoying my obvious erection under the desk. Phir, she leaned down, kissed me—a deep, demanding, desperate kiss. This wasn't casual flirting; this was a woman starving.
“You think I don’t notice how you look at me during board meetings, Ashish?” she whispered against my mouth.
The report was forgotten. I grabbed her waist and pulled her closer. Her silk robe fell open completely. She was wearing the sexiest black set I’d ever seen. I attacked her neck, tasting her perfume mixed with Scotch.
She pushed me back onto the sofa chair. "Wait. You are too fast. First, you need to know who is in charge here."
She opened my belt with practiced ease. My zipper was down before I could process. She took me out, looked at me with pure, dominant appraisal, and slowly started licking. It was electric. She controlled the pace perfectly—teasing, stopping, then diving deep, exactly how Priya never would. I was moaning her name, forgetting I was in her husband's house.
When I thought I couldn't take it anymore, she stood up, pulled me roughly towards the adjacent bedroom—Verma’s bedroom.
“Get on the bed, mere help-boy,” she commanded, her voice husky and completely changed.
I obeyed instantly. I lay face down. She positioned herself above me, not waiting. She guided me in slowly, making sure I felt every inch of resistance melt away. It was rough, fast, and utterly selfish pleasure from her side. She was using me to release years of frustration.
Mid-way, she flipped me over. She mounted me, riding me hard and deep, her eyes locked on mine, a smirk playing on her lips. That look of absolute control—it broke me. I started thrusting back, matching her savage rhythm. We were loud, unapologetically loud, in that master bedroom, on their expensive sheets.
When we both exploded, it wasn't just sex; it was a declaration of war against boring married life.
We cleaned up quickly. She gave me Rs 10,000 in cash, slipped it into my pocket while adjusting my shirt. "This was just for the late night work, Ashish. Now, tomorrow, we act professional. You finish the report. But if I text you 'Need help with the system updates,' you drop everything and come straight here. Understood?"
I just nodded, completely drained but vibrating with adrenaline. I left at 3 AM.
The next day, Verma praised my dedication. I looked Aarti straight in the eye, smiled professionally, and she gave me the faintest, most dangerous wink. I am still working there. I am dying for her next text. I am completely trapped, and honestly? I don't want to escape.