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The sexting in our group chat didn’t let up after those hand bra vids; if anything, Neha got bolder, like she was testing how far she could push before I snapped or exploded in a good way. She’d drop random teases during the day, like a faceless pic of her cleavage in a low-cut top at work, captioning it “Thinking of that dance, Vik. What would you do if you saw this IRL?” He’d hit back with voice notes describing in detail how he’d grab her, bend her over, make her moan his name. I’d read it all on my lunch break, cock twitching under the desk, humiliated that my girl was basically cyber-fucking my roommate right under my nose. But we’d talk about it at night, her admitting it made her drip, and we’d roleplay it out in bed.
One night, things escalated hard in our room. We were in bed, lights dim, foreplay heating up, her hand stroking me slow while I kissed her neck. She was wearing this sexy lacy plunge red bra that pushed her boobs up high, showing massive cleavage, and it was so sheer, like sixty percent transparent. I could see the outline of her areolas clear as day, only the nipples really hidden behind thicker lace. “Like it?” she whispered, her big brown eyes locked on mine. Then she dropped the bomb: “Vikrant gifted it to me.” I froze, stunned, my hand mid-squeeze on her thigh. Remember that time in the chat he asked her bra size? She’d teased back, “You already measured it while dancing, perv.” Guess she sent him the exact deets in a private DM later, ’cause this thing fit her curves perfect. There was a matching panty too, red lace with ties on the sides that screamed “unwrap me.”
She bit her lip, seeing my shock, then asked all innocent, “Can I show him on VC and thank him? He’s just next door, but it’d be fun.” I thought about it, hell – he’d already seen her boob in that video, recorded her lotion sesh. What was a bra show? “Fine,” I muttered, hard as rock from the idea. She grinned, dimple popping, and called him on WhatsApp video. His face lit up on screen, that tan beard smirking. She angled the phone to show the bra first, arching her back to make her cleavage pop more. “Thanks for the gift, Vik. Fits amazing.” He whistled low, “Damn, Neha, you look like a slut in that. Turn around, let me see.” She did, giggling, then surprised me by lowering the phone to show the panty too, her long legs spread a bit, the lace barely covering her shaved mound. I hadn’t okayed that, but it was too late, and fuck if it didn’t turn me on.
“Pose for him, babe,” she said, handing me the phone. I held it steady, heart hammering, as she struck poses like hands on hips, blowing a kiss, even bending forward so her boobs nearly spilled out. Vikrant was all comments: “Those tits are begging to be grabbed. You’re such a tease, slutty girl. Bet Amit’s jealous as hell.” He called her slutty right there, and she laughed, loving it. Then he got bold: “Unhook it for me, Amit. Let me see the full gift.” I shook my head, “No fucking way.” But Neha, eyes on me with that naughty sparkle, lowered one strap slow, revealing more of her fair skin and the edge of her nipple. Then the other strap, bra still clinging. She turned her back to the camera, unhooking it teasingly, holding the cups in place so it didn’t drop. Her back arched, ass in the panty on display. I was throbbing, pre-cum leaking. Couldn’t take it anymore. I snatched the phone, disconnected, slammed her onto the bed face down, and fucked her rough from behind, pulling her ponytail, spanking her ass till it was red. She screamed my name, but I knew she was thinking of him too. Best sex we’d had in weeks.
The sexting kept rolling later that week, her sending him close-ups of the bra strap marks on her shoulders with “Your gift left its mark ?” and him replying with dick outline pics in his boxers, “This is what you do to me.” It was getting reckless, but the real escalation hit at the flat, even with a stranger around.
One evening, we were in the kitchen cooking pasta. Neha in my black button-up shirt that hit mid-thigh, only a panty underneath, no bra. Shirt was buttoned proper, but her curves showed through, nipples poking a bit. Doorbell rings: the TV service guy, back to fix our repaired set and mount it. Scruffy dude in his 30s, toolbox in hand. I went to handle him in the drawing room, showing the wall spot. Neha called out to Vikrant, “Hey, help me stir this? Amit’s busy.” Kitchen’s open plan, so from where we were fiddling with the TV, I could see them clear.
They started with jokes, her laughing at his crap, him bumping her hip “accidentally.” Got touchy quick. his hand on her lower back as he reached for spices, then grazing her ass over the shirt. She swatted playfully, but didn’t stop him. TV guy and I took like 20 minutes inspecting cables, mounting it steady. Meanwhile, Vikrant ramped up: lifting the shirt hem sneakily, grabbing her bare ass cheek, slapping it light so it jiggled. He continued touching her throughout, ignoring we were even there. The service guy noticed, his eyes flicking over, getting a free show of my girl being manhandled. He probably thought she was Vikrant’s, the way she leaned into it, giggling. I brushed it off, pretending to focus on the TV, but my gut churned with humiliation. A stranger watching my best friend grope my gf like a toy. At one point, Vikrant slid his hand deeper, not on the sides but right in the middle from behind, fingers dipping toward her pussy over the panty. Neha shouted “Hey!” but it turned into a laugh, her body jolting forward against the counter. He didn’t lift the shirt high enough for full view, but I knew exactly where his hand went, and so did the TV guy, who smirked before looking away.
Guy finally left after testing the remote, and dinner was ready. At the table, Vikrant kept at it, foot under the table on her leg, hand brushing her thigh when passing salt. We ate quick, tension thick. In bed later, Neha was soaked, her panty drenched. “That was wild,” she whispered, riding me hard. We had amazing sex, her moaning about how his touches in front of a stranger made her feel so dirty and desired. The game’s boundaries were shattering, and I was hooked deeper than ever.
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