The week after Payal’s first anal experience was pure torment for her. She couldn’t stop thinking about it. Every night she lay in bed touching herself — fingers in her pussy at first, then shyly moving to her ass. By Wednesday she was openly fingering her own asshole while I watched, crying the entire time.

“It still feels open from him,” she whispered through tears. “I keep thinking about how stretched it was. How full it felt. I hate that I’m doing this, Sameer. I hate that I’m preparing my ass for another man again.”

On Thursday she asked me to fuck her ass for the first time. She was shaking and sobbing as I slowly pushed into her. It was tight, but nothing like Hassan’s size. She came, but it wasn’t the same. Afterward she clung to me and said, “It’s not enough. His cock is so much thicker… it hurts more but it feels better too. I’m so fucked up.”

Friday she had a wet dream so intense she woke up humping the bed. She told me about it while riding my cock: “In the dream he was fucking my ass from behind and I was pushing back, begging him to go deeper. I woke up and my ass felt empty. I had to put my fingers in it just to feel something.”

By Saturday night she was a wreck of guilt and need. She spent almost an hour in the bathroom “practicing” — I could hear her quiet moans and soft crying through the door. When she came out she climbed on top of me and rode me while reaching back and fingering her own ass.

“Next time he’s going to fuck my ass again,” she said, voice breaking. “And I already know I’m going to let him. I might even ask for it. I’m scared of how much I want it now.”

Sunday morning was heavy with tension. Preeti was days from delivery and mostly bedridden. Hassan arrived just after lunch. He didn’t hide anything anymore. When he passed Payal in the hallway he grabbed her ass openly and whispered something that made her blush deep red and look at me with guilty eyes.

That night, after everyone was asleep, Payal walked to the guest room wearing only a short robe. She didn’t even try to hide it from me. I waited ten minutes, then followed and took my usual place at the open door. This time I stood closer — I could see everything clearly.

Payal was already naked on the bed. Hassan stood over her, stroking his massive cock. Her heavy breasts were already leaking milk down her stomach.

“I’m scared again,” she said immediately, voice trembling. “But… but I’ve been thinking about it all week. My ass still feels open from last time. I hate myself for this.”

Hassan climbed onto the bed and spread her legs. He started with her pussy first — long, deep strokes that made her moan and leak milk. She came twice quickly, her body already trained. While he was still inside her he reached down and pushed two fingers into her ass without warning.

Payal cried out and tried to close her legs. “Ahh—! Not yet… please go slow. It still feels sore from last week.”

He fingered her ass while fucking her pussy, stretching her slowly. Payal was crying but her hips were moving. After her third orgasm he pulled out of her pussy, flipped her onto her stomach, and pulled her hips up. Her ass was raised high, face buried in the pillow.

“Please be gentle at first,” she begged, already crying. “Your cock is so thick… I’m really scared it will hurt like the first time.”

Hassan spat on her asshole and rubbed the fat head of his cock against it. He pushed forward slowly. The thick head pressed against her tight ring. Payal sobbed into the pillow as it started to stretch her.

“It’s going in… oh god it’s stretching me again… it burns… please go slow… please…”

The head popped inside. Payal cried harder, her whole body shaking. Hassan stayed still, letting her adjust, while he reached under and rubbed her clit. Slowly her crying changed. Her ass started to push back against him.

He pushed another inch. Then another. Payal was moaning and sobbing at the same time.

“It’s so deep already… I can feel it in my stomach again… it hurts but my pussy is so wet… why is my pussy dripping when you’re in my ass?”

He kept pushing until almost eight inches were buried in her ass. Then he started moving — slow, deliberate thrusts that made her tight ring cling to every vein. Payal was crying steadily but her ass was meeting his thrusts now.

After ten minutes he started fucking her ass properly. Long, deep strokes that made wet, obscene sounds. Every time he pulled back her asshole gaped slightly before he pushed back in. Milk was pouring from her breasts onto the sheets.

Payal came first from anal around the fifteen-minute mark — a sudden, violent orgasm that made her scream into the pillow and her ass clamp down hard around his cock. She was still crying.

“I’m cumming from my ass again… I hate it… I love it… please don’t stop…”

Hassan kept fucking her through it. He reached around and pinched her nipples, spraying milk everywhere while he pounded her ass. Payal came again five minutes later — this one even harder. She actually reached back with both hands and held her ass cheeks open for him.

“Fuck my ass,” she sobbed. “Please… fuck it harder. I’m sorry, Sameer… I’m sorry I’m asking him…”

The words slipped out. She started crying harder the moment she realized what she had said, but she didn’t take her hands away. She kept holding herself open while he fucked her ass deeper.

Hassan flipped her onto her back, pushed her legs all the way back to her chest, and entered her ass again in one long thrust. This position was even more intense. Payal could see his thick cock disappearing into her stretched asshole. She came almost immediately — a shaking, squirting orgasm that sprayed from her untouched pussy while his cock was buried in her ass.

He fucked her like that for another twenty minutes. Deep, relentless strokes. Payal came three more times from anal only. During one orgasm she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him deeper into her ass, crying the entire time.

“I’m cumming with your cock in my ass… it feels so full… I can’t stop cumming… please cum in my ass again… I need it…”

She begged him to cum inside her ass. The words came out between sobs. When he finally unloaded deep in her ass — thick, powerful spurts that she could feel flooding her — Payal came one last time with him, a broken, exhausted orgasm that left her limp and shaking.

He stayed inside her ass until he softened. When he pulled out, a thick river of cum poured out of her gaping, red asshole and ran down over her pussy.

Payal lay there crying for a long time. Hassan stroked her hair.

“Next Sunday I’m fucking your ass again. And I’m going to make you ride me with it. You’re going to bounce on my cock with your married ass until you beg me to cum inside it.”

Payal didn’t argue. She just nodded weakly through her tears.

She returned to our bedroom near dawn. Her ass was clearly sore — she walked very carefully. Cum was still leaking from it and running down her thighs. She climbed into bed and immediately started telling me everything in a broken, exhausted whisper.

She described how it burned at first. How she cried and begged him to go slow. How her ass slowly started pushing back on its own. How she held her own cheeks open and asked him to fuck her ass harder. How she came six times from anal only. How she begged him to cum inside her ass. How much cum he pumped into her and how it leaked out for a long time after.

While she confessed I fucked her pussy. She was loose and wet and used. I reached down and gently fingered her cum-filled ass while I was inside her. She came twice just from telling me the details — once when she described holding her ass open and again when she described begging him to cum in it.

After I came inside her she lay on my chest and cried for almost half an hour.

“I held my own ass open for him,” she kept whispering. “I asked him to fuck my ass harder. I begged him to cum inside it. I’m never going to be the same woman again. Next Sunday he’s going to make me ride him with my ass… and I already know I’m going to do it. I’m scared, Sameer. I’m so scared of how much I want this now.”

Outside, the first light of Monday was breaking over Pune. In the guest room, Hassan was already asleep, the smell of my wife’s milk and freshly fucked ass still on his cock.

And in our bed, Payal — my once shy, conservative, reluctant wife — lay trembling in my arms with another man’s cum still leaking from her stretched asshole, already knowing she would give him her ass again in seven days… and that this time she might even ask for it first.