Indian traditional wife Hoorain – Part 1
Couple
Submit Report This story is part of the Indian traditional wife Hoorain series Hello everyone, I hope you are all doing fine. Before starting the story, let me tell you that this is my first writing experience, so I am not the author. What I am writing here is not just a story, but a journey that happened in real life with me. This is a real story, and I hope you all enjoy reading it. It is not just a sex story, but a journey of how a traditional woman, who in her life never showed her ankles to anyone other than her husband, ended up exposing everything to a man who wasn’t her husband. It’s a long story, and I request that you all read it with patience. Let me introduce you to our characters. Anirudh (hero of the story): 29 years old, working in a corporate role as a software developer in a reputed company. He is tall, well-built, an athlete, a soccer lover, and comes from a respected family. He is successful in life. Ahmad (supporting role): 33 years old, working in logistics. He is a very gentle person with a good job in a reputable logistics company. He comes from a traditional family and is very strict in his rituals. Hoorain (heroine of the story): 28 years old, the most shy lady I have ever seen – graceful, with a soft voice and a lowered gaze. She is the kind of beauty that people lock their gaze on to talk about her looks. She was never the drop-dead gorgeous type that makes men turn on instantly, like the girls on Instagram or any royal high-class lady. She was fair, with big brown eyes that always looked down first, a small straight nose, full rosy, juicy lips, a round face, and a soft jawline. She was of average height, maybe 5’4″, and always wore Indian attire, a salwar suit, and a burqa over her dress when she stepped out of her home. She was always soft-spoken, her hands always busy adjusting her dupatta. To talk about her figure, her weight may be in the 60s. Her breasts were 34B, heavy and natural, tear-drop-shaped, a bit saggy, and lightly, but perfectly sized to be held, squeezed, licked, and sucked. They were always hidden under a loose kurta. When I saw them for the first time, I was speechless. Her ass was 38 inches, round and perfect, a jiggling ass that swayed unconsciously under her burqa. So, she wasn’t a bombshell. She was the quiet storm you never see coming until you’re already drowning. When a man finally has her, her softness becomes fire, her shyness becomes hunger, and the body everyone thought was ordinary becomes the most addictive thing he’s ever touched. Why am I writing this story? What made me think of writing? It is only for my friend, Ahmad. I’m writing this story solely dedicated to him. I want him to sit in his office chair and open this file when no one is looking. I want him to see exactly how I took his shy, 28-year-old wife – the one he kissed on the forehead every night – and turned her into my personal, dripping, breeding-obsessed possession. I want him to picture the way her tits bounced when I first threw her naked body into their marital bed. This is not revenge. This is documentation. This is proof. This is the quiet, permanent record that the woman he calls “my love” now calls me the same thing when she’s on her knees. So yes, I wrote every filthy detail, every slow step of tit, every moment her old life cracked, and I poured myself into the spaces, because some victories are too perfect to keep private. This story is my signature on her body, her soul, and her future children. So now, coming to the main part of the story, it all started in 2023. They both got married and seemed to be a perfect couple. A happy, peaceful life was going well in the initial stages. They were living a decent sex life – not good for any female in this world. Her husband would last for a minute or two despite taking meds. Day by day, Hoorain also started to adjust to this new, no-sex life, slowly trying to adapt. She also started to think that this was how a sex life was meant to be enjoyed. As days passed, almost two years had gone by in their marriage. She stopped expecting pleasure. She never ever reached a climax; she never had an orgasm. Many people in the family started to taunt them as they were childless despite two years of marriage. She was sad on the inside but never brought it up openly. People never made out that she was unhappy. She hid her sadness in her beautiful smile. She was a smart, intelligent girl and used to take part in every ritual, every function, every get-together with all her effort. Ahmad, on the other hand, discovered something on the web he never thought could happen. Surprisingly, he read about the cuckolding thing — how couples enjoy their sex life with other men, other than their partners, for plenty of reasons. Some were unhappy, some were for pleasure, some were for fantasy, and some were open-minded. Even though he never wanted to do this in his life, his heart raced in his bedroom. His mind was full of cuck captions and Hotwife stories he read on the web. He began jerking off to the thought of his wife, his quiet, Hoorain, being described by another man. This fantasy consumed him quietly. He started to think, “Why not give it a try?” As he wasn’t satisfying her, maybe someone else would. She would enjoy a sex life she hadn’t enjoyed with him all these years. He started to try, but how? His mind stopped here. So, the idea came up in his mind. He created a fake profile on social media where he read the posts about cuck, hotwife, and cheating wives. He used to comment on those posts so that people would connect with him, and he did get replies; many had DM’d him too. In all these interactions, he interacted with plenty of guys. He would say many were just pic seekers, many were assholes, and many gave him bullshit ideas like sleeping pills or bringing a man to massage her.
They didn’t even realize their family background, her upbringing. She had never ever interacted with men outside her family; how could she be open to being massaged by a man? C’mon, guys, you should show some maturity here. He was helpless. He cared for her happiness; he really wanted to try. He also gave her contact to some guys, telling them that they would seduce her and he didn’t have to worry, but all failed. She never encouraged texts from unknown persons; she never cared to reply. She used to ignore them all the time. Some were directly asking her for sessions; some used to send dick pics directly. This hit her hard. Whenever she got a text from an unknown number, she started blocking them directly. Almost a year passed for him trying this. She used to tell him that she always got texts from unknown numbers. He used to act as if he didn’t know, even though he knew why she was getting those texts. He started to give up on these things as it wasn’t breaking the ice to get to the next level, so he stopped. After a while, the thought struck his mind again. He was not able to take the thought of his wife enjoying with another man, his wife cheating on him, out of his head. Again, he started to try, but this time he planned not for a cuck, but for a real man who could make his wife talk to him and cheat on him. This time, he was aware of pic-seekers and time-passers. This time, he really found a gentle man: Anirudh. It was me. He contacted me on Telegram and explained everything, why he wanted it, and how he wanted it. I knew it was not an easy thing to break Hoorain; she was the toughest girl I had faced in my life. I asked him to share her ID, and in return, I demanded only one thing: that he unblock me from her phone if she blocked me. The rest, I would handle everything. “Rest assured, it would take time,” I said. He was okay with it. I saved her ID. For a couple of days, I didn’t text her. I waited for the right moment. I texted her, “HI.” She blocked me right away. What do you expect? I knew it was going to happen. As per our terms, Ahmad unblocked me from her phone. I gathered all the info on her and their sex life. Everything. This went on for almost two years, literally. I also started to give up hope that it wasn’t going to happen with this tough lady. She was so obsessed with her husband, but Ahmad was not pleased. He said he would try harder. I also started to think again. After no contact for six months, I had also liked her shyness, her simplicity. I also wanted her badly. On the other hand, one fine night, I texted her a “HI.” Seen hours later, but she didn’t block me. I think she really wanted to know. We chatted for a while, like, “Who are you? How did you get my no?” Again, she blocked me. A month later, I texted her, not a “HI” but directly quotes on cheating wives, like, “Every wife should have at least 1 secret fuck buddy,” and “It’s not cheating when you’re after your pleasure.” I got the quotes from social media and sent them to her. She saw the text hours later. The strange thing this time was that she didn’t block me, nor did she reply to me. I waited for her. I knew this might have triggered her. No sex in life after all. She married a man who could have sex with her, but things weren’t in her court. She thought she would have a happy family; she wanted to be a mom; she wanted a kid. Anytime she read the news about someone in her family being pregnant, this made her sad – not jealousy on them, but she wanted that happiness. She was helpless. She needed a life of sex with her husband, but on the other hand, her husband wasn’t capable of satisfying her. A couple of days later, she finally thought to reply. Who was texting her? Why? Now let’s describe the story through our chats. Anirudh: Hi Texted her. Seen by her, but no reply. I waited for 10 minutes, and 10 minutes later, she finally did. Hoorain: Who are you? Why do you keep sending me these texts? Listen, I’m a married woman. I don’t want to talk to a stranger. Please stop! Anirudh: I know you’re married, Hoorain. That’s why it hurts to read messages, because good wives like you sometimes carry pain that no one sees. Hoorain: What? How do you know my name? This is wrong. I can’t chat with you. I texted you only because I wanted to know who you are. That’s it. I have no other intention. Please don’t spoil my life, nor waste your time. And I’m blocking you again. Anirudh: You can block me, but you will unblock me again when you are alone and the house is quiet, because part of you wants to know if someone finally noticed. Hoorain: I’m not that kind of woman. I’m happy. I have a good husband to look after me. Anirudh: I believe you’re a good woman. That’s exactly why it hurts to think you might be suffering quietly in ways he doesn’t see. I’m not asking anything from you… Just know that someone sees you. This made her feel secure and relaxed. Hoorain: I don’t suffer. I’m fine, thanks. Anirudh: Then why are you still typing? No reply from her after “seen.” She was blank. Hoorain: Goodbye Anirudh: You don’t have to say more tonight, Hoorain, but if you ever want to talk to someone who doesn’t judge you, please remember, I’m here. No pressure, no demands. Good night, Hoorain. That was the end of our first chat. It felt good chatting with her. I still wasn’t sure if she would chat again. No clue. She would show up once again, but I needed her. For the first time in my life, I felt I wanted her at any cost. I had met many women before her; they were open-minded, just met for a couple of days, date for a couple of days, that’s it. They were open for sex, but this lady wasn’t that type. She kept herself so hidden; she was so obsessed. I needed to explore her. I waited for my good luck. I was keeping tabs on her. She would keep me blocked when Ahmad was home.
She unblocked me when she was alone in her home, but no text. I waited for 3 or 4 days. I asked Ahmad about her reaction. He said no reaction. Nor did she tell him that someone was chatting with her. For the first time or every time she used to tell her husband whenever she got a text from a stranger, but for the first time, she kept it hidden from him. Even though Ahmad knew she was chatting with me, she kept him unaware of it. I think she liked the attention and the praising. She liked it. Ahmad said, “Bro, you are lucky. I think she’s giving up.” I thanked him for offering his wife. I thought of texting her at the right time again. Ahmad let me know when she’s alone. I got a green signal from Ahmad. Yeah, I accelerated. Our second chat starts. Anirudh: Hi Hoorain, how are you? Hoorain: Hi. I shouldn’t be doing this. I feel so guilty. Anirudh: Guilt means you still care about being good. That’s what I like in you. Hoorain: I don’t even know you… Nor do you know me. Anirudh: I know you unblocked me yourself. I know you waited 3 days before typing again. I know you’re lying in bed right now with your heart racing. Let me know if I’m wrong. Seen text. No reply from her. It’s 6 minutes. She’s still online. Hoorain: No, you’re not wrong. Anirudh: Good girl. Now tell me one true thing tonight. Are you happy in life? How’s your married life? Hoorain: Hey, don’t ask me those. I’m not ok. Anirudh: C’mon, Hoorain. Trust me, it’s ok. I’m not judging you for anything. Hoorain: You know? You’re the first man ever in my life I’m talking to as a stranger. I have never done this in my life. Anirudh: Thank you, Hoorain. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known in my life. Anirudh: Now tell me one true thing tonight. Are you happy in life? How’s your married life? Hoorain: I don’t know. Anirudh: How do you feel after you both finish? I think I shouldn’t ask you this, but if you trust me… Hoorain: Sometimes after he finishes ………… I lie awake for hours and feel nothing. Not even peace. Just empty. I don’t know why I’m discussing this with you. It’s not wrong for me. Anirudh: Thank you for trusting me, Hoorain. You’re not broken; you’re just waiting for someone who knows how to fill the empty places. Hoorain: I’m scared of what you’re doing to me. Anirudh: I’m not doing anything yet. You’re doing it to yourself by coming back. Hoorain: I hate that you’re right. Anirudh: You don’t hate it. You’re just not used to being seen. Hoorain: Goodbye Anirudh: Goodbye, sweetie. ❤️ Ha, what a beautiful woman she is. I love texting with her. I can wait years for this type of woman. Waiting was really worth it. When she typed “sometimes she feels empty,” I felt in my gut that was the moment she gave up. She didn’t just confess; she trusted me with the one thing she never told another soul. She’s still fighting herself harder than she’s fighting me. Every “I shouldn’t be doing this” is her old life clinging on for dear life. I know she is liking it. I know she is afraid of taking steps further. I can understand her upbringing, her childhood, her backstory. It’s never easy for a woman of this kind to break the ice. But slowly, she was giving up. She needs a little dare from her side. I can make out how badly she wants happiness. I tried being more patient. One thing on my mind was how great she would be without clothes, how lusty she might be inside, how horny she might be inside, how pleasurable it might be to enjoy her naked body, having sex with her. I used to jerk off thinking of her, of having sex with her, fucking her in doggy style, kissing her pink, rosy lips. And this time, the first message came from her side. After waiting for 5 days, finally, the wait was over. Hoorain: Are you there? Anirudh: I’m waiting for the woman who disappears for days, then comes back like she never left. Hoorain: I tried not to text you, but… Anirudh: And yet here we are. Then what made you text again? Hoorain: I don’t know…………. I just missed reading your words. Anirudh: Good……… I missed writing them for you. Hoorain: Flirting again? Anirudh: Only a little…… I’m saving the rest for when you’re ready. Hoorain: I don’t think I will ever be ready. Anirudh: We have time. That’s ok… do something brave for me tonight. Can you? Hoorain: What? Anirudh: Send me one pic. Just your hand holding the chai cup. Nothing more. I want to see those fingers that type these messages. Hoorain: I can’t. What if? Anirudh: It’s just a hand. No one will know. It’s safe. It will make me smile knowing you did it for me. She sent it. Her smooth, fair skin, hand holding a cup of tea. Her wedding ring was clearly seen in the soft light near the bedside lamp. Hoorain: I feel like I did something huge. Anirudh: You did. That tells me everything. Hoorain: Ok… now bye Anirudh: Goodbye, beautiful. Keep the pic in your gallery. Look at it and remember who made you brave. — Anirudh: Hey, are you there? Hoorain: Yeah, Ahmad’s mom was over here. Anirudh: How was your day, beautiful? Hoorain: She kept saying I look tired. I smiled and said work stress. Anirudh: You are tired because you are carrying things no one sees. Tell me one thing that made you heavy today. Hoorain: He tried tonight. It was quick, like always. I lay there looking at the ceiling. I don’t know why I’m saying this to you. I feel guilty. Anirudh: Don’t be. You are talking to someone who only wants the truth from you. Does he ever ask you how you feel? Hoorain: No, I pretend it’s enough. Anirudh: But that’s not enough. You deserve to be touched like you’re precious, not just used once. Hoorain: You always say things that make me feel…… seen. Anirudh: Because you are more than you know. I keep thinking about the pic of your hand, the way your fingers look so delicately holding the cup. Hoorain: I stared at it too. Felt strange.
Anirudh: Good strange or bad strange? Hoorain: Good one. That’s what scares me. Anirudh: Then let’s make it even better. Send me one more pic tonight. Just your face, if you’re alone. I want to see the woman who trusts me enough to type these words. Hoorain: I can’t. I’m sorry. I’ve never sent my pic to anyone. Anirudh: That’s why I want it, because it would be only for me. After a long pause. Hoorain: Promise you will delete it after seeing it? Anirudh: I promise I will keep it as a treasure for me. She did send her pic. It was amazing. What a face she has! I say she is not as gorgeous as Instagram girls or royal high-class types, but a simple, middle-class, typical Indian woman. Fair enough. Anirudh: You’re breathtaking. Those eyes can deceive a man without trying, and that smile… I want to be the reason for it every day. Hoorain: I’ve never done this with anyone else. You’re the first man to see me like this. I know it is wrong, but I don’t hate doing it for you. I don’t know why. I think I like it. Anirudh: That’s not wrong… that’s honesty, actually. And honesty between us is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever felt. After a break of a couple of days, I’ve been eagerly waiting for a green light. As soon as I got one, I accelerated. Anirudh: Hey, beautiful Hoorain: Hey, how are you? Anirudh: I’m good. How was your day? Hoorain: As usual. Nothing special. Anirudh: You are a special person. Hoorain: I’m thinking too much. Anirudh: About? Hoorain: About things I have never said out loud. Anirudh: Say one. I’m listening. Hoorain: With him, it’s always the same. Quick and finish. Anirudh: How quick? Hoorain: Less than 2 minutes. Sometimes he tries to be gentle, but I have never felt anything. Anirudh: That’s not sex, Hoorain. That’s a duty. You deserve to be devoured, not just used. Hoorain: I don’t even know what devoured feels like. Anirudh: Tell me, before your marriage, did you ever have a bf? Someone who made your heart race? Hoorain: No, never. No boy ever spoke to me other than you. No letters, no calls, nothing. Straight from my dad’s home to my husband’s. Anirudh: So, am I the first man who’s ever made you feel wanted? Hoorain: Yes, and it scares me how much I like it. Anirudh: If I had met you before your marriage, I would have fought the world to marry you. Hoorain: I think about that sometimes, and what if? Anirudh: “What if” is dangerous. But it’s also an honest thought. Keep thinking. Hoorain: I should sleep now. Anirudh: Sleep thinking I’m next to you, hugging you from behind, kissing your neck. Hoorain: ❤️ — I think I’m taking too long with this story. You all might be curious to know the main part, and I would tell you all to have a bit more patience, as reading with details will make it more imaginable. Anyhow, I won’t take too long and will try to keep it a bit short, as our chats have become more open and naughty. Sharing pics was normal between us now; the line between innocent and forbidden was gone. She used to send pics at night, sometimes modest, sometimes daring. All this, I would say, the less-than-satisfactory sex activity from her husband made her to turn herself into this affair. Now I would also comment on her pics badly in words and with GIFs too. Now let’s read in conversation mode. She sent me a pic of a mirror selfie. A loose satin nightie was slipping off one shoulder, making her black bra visible, highlighting her collarbone and the swell of her boobs. She tagged a text: “I’m alone.” Anirudh: Fuck, Hoorain. That shoulder… I would start by kissing it slowly, then bite it just hard enough to make you gasp and slide your bra strap down with my teeth. Hoorain: You’re making me breathe fast. Anirudh: Good. Now imagine my mouth tasting every inch of yours that you showed me. Our chatting went on with plenty of nasty words and her hot pics. Now, the time had come to meet her in person. I insisted many times; she rejected many times. I also said the enjoyment she was feeling in texts was nothing compared to when we met in person. She used to say that was the thing she didn’t want to happen. This broke me a little. I worked so hard to get her, but this woman was still not getting in my hands. I thought to end it and focus on other things, but something hit me again about her upbringing, her lifestyle. I realized her situation was not easy; to take this step was hard for her. But I made her take not only the next step but plenty of steps. We will end it here. Let’s read in part 2. ***** Get back to me at [email protected]. Thank you all. Encourage me to write part 2 soon.