The Complete Turnaround Pt. 01

SUMMARY: After working over 24 hours, Priyanka unexpectedly arrived home and discovered her husband having extramarital affairs in her marital bed. She divorced her husband and began living an excellent life alone, until one day she discovered she had been seen naked by an anonymous local onlooker on her balcony. After recognizing the fact, she was lured by the attractive young man and eventually sexually submitted to him.

NOTES: All characters mentioned in this story are above 18.

AUTHORS NOTE: Thank you to all of my readers for your love and support in my past articles; I'm quite grateful for that. Please keep giving Ratings and Likes if you like this story as well. And don't forget to add your insightful feedback; I'd love to hear it. Once more, many thanks. Cheers to reading!

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THE COMPLETE TURNAROUND

"Please don't go." Samar held her hand from behind.

"I'm sorry, but it's not possible for me to stay with you anymore." Priyanka wiped her tears and tried to take his hands off.

"Please, Priyanka, I'm sorry; please just listen to me." Samar is hoping for an opportunity to clarify things.

"Please, Samar, just let go of my hands," she requested.

"Please give me a chance to explain myself?" even though he had nothing left to explain.

Priyanka turned around, looked into his eyes, frowning mouth with eyes and eyebrows, angry as a bull from inside, but somehow managing to stay composed, and asked him politely, "I don't want your fucking explanations?"

Samar roared, "DON'T ACT LIKE A CHILD, PRIYANKA"

"What the fuck did you just say?" she asked.

Samar, dazed, considered how to handle the issue and asked again. "Look, this has just happened; what should I do now?"

"What do you mean, IT HAPPENED? That slut who slipped over your dick? Or your dick walked into her cunt?" she mocked.

"Watch your language!" yelled Samar.

"Throughout these years, you treated me like a slut, yet I did all you wanted of me without hesitation,

I played multiple personas [teacher-student, businessman-secretary, doctor-nurse, nurse-patient] while wearing various outfits and cosmetics,

In the middle of the storm, I went on a long drive with you on your motorcycle, wearing nothing but a see-through raincoat,

On my first day of a new job, you face-fucked me and forced me to wear your cum all over my face and hair,

You treat me like animals [cats, dogs]. I crawled around the house naked, peed on all fours like a dog,

After 12 hours of grueling nightshift, I got fucked and took your cum into my pussy, then on all fours, I positioned myself as a table while you watched 9.5 hours of the India-Australia cricket match.

Yet all those weren't enough for you that you had to sleep with that slut, even on our martial bed?" Priyanka listed.

"But you never liked incest," Samar complained.

"Are you a fucking lunatic? That's the reason you slept with that slut?" She was able to rescue her hands, laugh with tears streaming down her cheeks, grab the handle of the trolley, and begin walking.

"You know, you'll never be able to come back here if you cross that door right now." Samar forewarned.

"You know what? Just go to hell, you pervert." Priyanka flashed her middle finger and went past the door, closing it on her way back. When she shut the door, she heard a vase hit the door. She became terrified and covered her ears with both hands.

She opened her eyes and sprang out of bed, panting like a hound, sweat dripping down her whole body. She realized her room was totally empty. She sighed. Same fucking dream again she thought to herself.

Priyanka was 29 years old, slim, tall enough, fair, with a diamond-shaped, extremely lovely face, medium-length hair to her upper back, and moles behind her left ear, right tit, and right-hand wrist. Her stats were 32C-30-34, 5.5', 56kg, orphan; because her parents died in a bus accident when she was 11 and her grandmother died 3 years ago, she still works as a nurse in a private nursing home.

After her divorce, she refused to claim alimony from his cheater husband, despite his modest salary. Although her lawyer advised that she may claim a third of his property in a lump sum or a quarter of his present earnings in monthly instalments, Priyanka might have claimed the house as well, which she and Samar co-borrowed.

Instead, she simply asked the court to terminate her EMI payments on her former property, allowing her to live a meaningful life, and she was able to purchase a 3BHK flat in Newtown on a home loan of Rs. 45 lacs. She had rented out her two-bedroom apartment, which was covering her current EMI, and she was managing herself in a single room. She had also withdrawn a proportion of the deposited funds from the joint account and invested them in mutual funds.

It's been more than 16 months since the tragedy, yet she still has the same dream nearly every morning. She took the water bottle off the bedside table, drank some, and then looked at her phone, which was lying near her. The time was 7:15 a.m. Priyanka slept all of the night naked due to her stressful long hours of work, and it had been her habit since when she was with Samar, he always demanded that she sleep naked after sex.

She parted her covers and stepped out of the bed. As soon as her foot touched the floor, the cold air rushed up her warm legs, giving her goosebumps. She stood up, disregarding the fact that she was naked, avoided wearing anything, and walked towards the balcony, which was on the opposite side of the bed. She gathered her hair and twisted and coifed it at the back of her head while doing so. She had heard in the hospital that this bun style looked quite sexy with her saree.

Her balcony featured a full-length sliding French door with curtains that led from her left bedroom wall to the kitchen island. As soon as she got close, she grabbed the drapes and casually split them as she strolled to the end. The sun doesn't generally shine so early in the morning in the winter, but the light was sufficient--more than enough for the entire world to view her nakedness, especially for the occupants of the opposite and adjacent flats.

She took the juice package from the island corner, sipped it, and stood there to glance out the window. Fortunately, there were no signs of humans. She decided to take a hot shower before getting ready for work after a few minutes of enjoying the environment.

She walked in and controlled the flow of cold or warm water. Then, without further ado, she jumped straight in. She smirked as she looked at herself in the mirror before entering the entirely glass shower stall. The water felt wonderful and warm. It stroked her weary skin, kneaded her breasts and stomach, and tickled slightly as it ran down the length of her legs.

She took a deep breath as she felt the heat stream between her legs and touched her perfectly shaved pussy. She closed her eyes and recalled her previous dreamy evenings of love. She could feel a pounding sensation deep inside her. Then she reached for the soap and began rubbing her entire body with it, inhaling the pleasant scent.

She was soon covered from head to toe in slick soap. Her fingers glided across the whole surface of her body. She caressed both of her ample tits, the nipples hardening against her palms as she considered how ideal they were for her structure. She contemplated how solid they were as she gently squeezed them, recalling all the praises she had got about them, as well as the crude comments from perverted males on the road, metro, or in the hospital.

Her hands moved downward over her flat, hard abs and tight tummy. She then rubbed the soap into her skin, not skipping a bit. Her hands ran behind her firm, tanned ass. She giggled as her hands massaged the two parts, not exactly the same sensation as people's hands give when they touch or squeeze in public or at a hospital.

Her hands then ran towards her pussy through her thighs and groin area. Finally, the clit. She groaned and closed her eyes as her soapy fingers caressed her luscious, sensitive lips. "Ohhhh."

She chose to try out something different. As she opened her eyes and picked out the showerhead, positions the water stream directly to the external portion of the clit and moved the stream around to the surrounding regions. It easily led her to moan loudly, and she is a loud moaner. Then she attempted every circle motion, sometimes up and down, sometimes side to side, while squeezing and squeezing her both boobs one by one.

After about a minute, she began to jolt as her orgasm started to rise. She began groaning louder and louder, despite the fact that her voice was broken by her heavy breathing. Her clit retracted under the hood and got shorter while her breathing became faster, and her uterus and pussy constricted at the same time as her orgasm hit her.

As she became weak on her legs, the showerhead slid from her grasp and dropped to the floor. Meanwhile, her soap foam had fully washed away. She held on to the towel holder in some way to keep herself in place. She regained consciousness after a few seconds and took a long, deep breath to relax her muscles. It was the most intense orgasm she'd had in a short period of time since her divorce.

She wiped herself off, put a towel over her hair to dry it, and carefully stepped out of the restroom naked. She went straight to the kitchen after passing the bed and cooked an omelet, bread toast, and some orange juice for breakfast.

While eating, she took out a white laced see-through non-padded underwire bra, a U-neck princess cut navy-blue half sleeve blouse, a solid white cotton mermaid-fit low-waist petticoat, which had an elasticated waistband with drawstring closure, and a solid white with a dark-navy-blue-border from her closet. She always wears a Bindi as the cherry on top, and on this occasion; she went for her Navy-blue Micro Bindi and Oxidized-Silver-Plated-Classic-Drop Earrings. But decided to go commando and skipped the panty.

Then she combed her hair into a bun, wore her saree, packed her lunch, locked the door, picked up the newspaper, greeted the security guard, and then took an auto-rickshaw to the metro station. She read that newspaper while riding the train to her final stop. The hospital was three minutes' walk from the metro station, which she arrived at on schedule at 9:30 AM.

She worked a 9-hour shift at the hospital, plus 3-hours of overtime, for a total of nearly 2-days' pay. She purchased a flower from the streets as usual on her way back, boarded the final metro, and arrived at her neighboring metro station. Not to mention that there was no chance she could get an auto-rickshaw at 10:55 at night, so she chose to walk. From the metro station to her residence, it took close to 43 minutes. Despite the fact that she had stopped at the lake in the middle of her stroll, she sat in the wooden four-seater chair for at least 15 minutes to watch the moonlight glisten on the water.

She unpinned her saree off her shoulder, undid her blouse's buttons, took her bra off, dropped these on the floor, and let her boobs hang loosely as soon as she was inside her apartment. We all know how it feels after taking off the bra, and as she breathed a sigh of relief, air conditioning air flowed through her skin. She then pulled her saree away from her petticoat, allowing it to also fall to the ground. She took a step outside and removed her petticoat as well, leaving her completely naked.

She headed to the balcony as usual, opened the slider gate, and stood there. It was moonlight, and it was all over her body. She scanned the area here and there, but the surrounding apartments were empty. Although her naked body cherished the air, the fresh, chilly air touching her body made her shudder a little.

Priyanka waited a short while before entering when she noticed that a light was on in a distant unit. She moved behind the curtains to hide, even though it was unlikely that anyone could see her from that distance. She then caught a glimpse and saw another man standing close behind a huge glass wall. She pulled her binoculars out of the closet to take another look, out of curiosity.

He was simply gazing back at her while holding a binocular. He was a really handsome and masculine young man from head to toe, with an adoring hairdo, innocent face, biceps, pumped chest, abs, and other body parts. When their eyes met, she startled, ducked back, smiled, and felt a little self-conscious since she assumed he had probably seen her naked on the balcony.

After waiting for a few minutes, Priyanka glanced behind, half-expecting the man to have departed by then. To her surprise, he remained, holding up an A4 paper inscribed with the message "CONTACT?" in bold red marker. She gasped, took a deep breath, and paused for a moment before mustering the courage to respond. Ignoring the fact that she was still naked, she grabbed her red lipstick, hastily scrawled her phone number on a piece of white paper, and boldly displayed it from the balcony.

Both disappeared in a short amount of time. That night, when she was dining at her kitchen island, she received the text, "My place?"

"Sure. Tomorrow is a day off for me." Without giving it a second thought, she responded and then gasped. She might have accepted having a sexual encounter with a stranger she had never met before. What the fuck had she just done?

Her hands began to quiver, her heart started to race, and she was at a loss for what to do. She looked out of the kitchen window. The light was off. She first considered responding to him by telling him the message had been sent by accident. Then she wondered how she would possibly explain such, although she imagined her husband had already cheated and was living in luxury, so why shouldn't she enjoy herself?

Priyanka made up her mind. After supper, she stayed awake for the next two hours, gazing at her phone in anticipation of a response, but nothing came. She eventually fell asleep.

Priyanka typically keeps herself quite busy on her days off by doing laundry, gardening, and grocery shopping until her next week off. The following day, however, was the longest and most hectic of her life. She didn't have a work shift and wasn't interested in everything. Instead, she chose to stay in bed, checking her phone every five minutes in anticipation of a special message. and yet nothing.

The next couple of days passed similarly; she awoke, prepared for the hospital, went to work, and then came home. She found it strange that he first asked to meet but did not respond back.

She found a text that said, "4 number metro gate exact 12 hours from now," when she woke up the next morning on a Saturday. She had received that at 3:45 AM.

It sent chills down her spine after reading that text. She went through that message over and over and over again. It took almost 10 minutes to recover from that thrill. Determined not to squander any more time, she swiftly dialed the hospital, pleading for leave and promising to compensate by working a grueling 24-hour shift on Sunday. Recognizing the significance of Saturdays and Sundays, the days when a multitude of patients arrived for routine check-ups and tests, she managed to persuade them to grant her request.

Then she jumped out of bed, slipped on one of her Salwar-Kurti and went to the grocery store to arrange her food for the whole week. The whole time she walked and shopped, she thought to herself:

The 4-number gate is under construction; why the hell would someone ask me to go there? But who cares...

But what should I wear...

What if someone from the hospital sees me...

I have to look needy and conservative at the same time...

What if I'm taking this too seriously, since he took more than two days to respond...

Nothing conclusive.

She returned to her flat and took a leisurely 30-minute shower. The doorbell rang as soon as she left the bathroom, wrapping a towel around her hair but completely naked as usual. Being surprised, she walked towards the door, picked up her white sheer loungerobe from her closet, and put it on before opening it just a bit. A man standing in a dapper suit, white gloves, a tie, and spectacles was holding a large box and a bouquet.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Ms. Priyanka?" he asked.

"Yes" I confirmed.

"A parcel for you, ma'am." he said.

"A minute, please." Priyanka knew she couldn't collect anything if she didn't open the door. So she unfolded the towel and wrapped it around her waist, bringing her hair forward to cover her boobs, and finally opened the gate wide.

The person passed over the box, including the bouquet on top. She was about to shut the door when he asked, "Ma'am, Tip?"

"Umm... Sure, please wait here." Priyanka smiled and was about to close the door when she heard, "No, Ma'am."

"Excuse me?" She pushed open the door again.

"About the tip..." he paused.

"Yes, please allow me to take my purse..." She tried to persuade the man.

"Actually, ma'am, it's already mentioned inside the box," he interjected.

"I see; please wait here," she said anxiously, raising her eyebrows.

Once in her room, she realized it was the same bouquet she bought every day before boarding the metro, though she unwrapped the box, which was a black pitch-board-box with a black scarf knotted around it, and within that was a packet containing a V-neck, mid-thigh-length, polyester fabric, 3/4th flutter sleeve Wrap Black Dress. Along with a hand-written greeting card that reads, "Good girl needs SPANKINGS too!" and a blank white card, a red rose was included.

That dress was quite modern and short; she had never worn such a dress in public before. She flipped over the greeting card, reading every line, making her gasp and pussy moist. 'SPANKING' was written in capital letters again and again. She read it once more.

What does it mean Good Girl...

What does even mean needs...

Why spanking was written in capital letters...

Am I going to be spanked...

The man standing outside, gonna spank me?...

All these questions were rendering inside her mind, where she heard, "You there, Ma'am? should I go?"

She had no idea how to respond to him but didn't want him to return either, so she said, "Please wait."

She murmured as she got to her feet, put down the towel, stepped slowly to the entrance, and flung open the gate once more. Through the transparent robe, the man could clearly see her nakedness, her shaved pussy, but her boobs were hiding behind hairs. However, he focused his attention on her eyes only.

Her cheeks were bright red, and her eyes were filled with guilt since she was undoubtedly so ashamed. Priyanka somehow established eye contact with him and noticed a red spark flickering on the corner of his right spectacle. She assumed that there must be a camera there and that someone was probably watching. A bit more confident, she gently turned around, slowly drew up her robe, arched her naked ass, and bowed down, saying, "Here is your tip, Mr."

The man opened the gloves as he took a step forward. She closed her eyes in the meantime, anticipating someone else to touch her exposed ass any second. Despite the fact that she has been touched many times while riding the metro, in the hospital, and in markets, she was obviously wearing clothes.