Sweta strode into the opulent chamber, her growing belly a proud declaration under the elegant saree, hips swaying with unapologetic confidence. Sunil glanced up from his papers, hunger flickering in his eyes. 'Mrs. Sweta, your resume is... sparse, but that belly adds an intriguing curve to the conversation. Five months, I presume?' She met his gaze steadily, voice laced with wit. 'Sharp observation, Mr. Sunil. Most men fumble at basic math. Yes, five months, and I'm still sharper than half your staff out there.' He chuckled, leaning closer. 'Feisty. Why the job hunt in this state? Desperation or defiance?' Sweta arched a brow, unflinching. 'Bills don't pause for pregnancy, and my husband's layoff isn't my weakness—it's my fire. Offer me the role, or don't waste my time.' Sunil's questions turned personal, probing her life with sly charm, but she countered each with clever retorts, refusing to shrink. When he proposed the conditions—including the 'wife' act at parties—she negotiated firmly. 'Fine, but my autonomy stays intact. No games.' Weeks later on their business trip, exhaustion and wine blurred lines in the honeymoon suite. Sunil's hands brushed her curves, voice husky. 'You're radiant, Sweta—horny from the day, aren't you?' She smirked, strong and unyielding. 'Talk less, prove more. Show me that hard cock if you're man enough.' Panting, she shed layers, her wet pussy dripping as he explored her ass and swollen breasts. 'Suck it like you mean it,' she commanded during the blowjob, taking control. He thrust deep, both sweating and moaning, her pussy clenching around him in cowgirl rhythm. 'Faster—make me cum!' she demanded wittily. They came hard, cum mixing in explosive waves, her body transforming under his touch yet her spirit unbroken. 'This is just the start, Sunil. Don't think you own me.'
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