In South Goa, we embarked on a five-day trip, utilizing a project we were both working on as an excuse to escape from home. Our accommodation was a boutique hotel nestled close to the beach. She packed modest attire like chudidars and jeans, leaving behind the sexier outfits from home to avoid arousing suspicion.

Evening around 6pm , as the drizzle persisted, signaling the impending monsoon, we decided to explore on a hired bike. Our mischievous minds sought out a shop with few customers, preferably with a single male attendant.

We stumbled upon a secluded shop with minimal variety and unimpressive attire. The lone attendant paid us no mind, not even acknowledging our presence. Disappointed, we left without making a purchase.

After a 30-minute drive, we stumbled upon a shop that piqued our interest. Positioned at the ocean's edge, it boasted two entrances: one facing the road, the other leading directly to the beach. As we approached, the shop owner greeted us warmly from his plastic chair near the entrance. His smile was inviting, and we felt welcomed as we parked our bike nearby.

Despite the shop lacking high-quality attire, it boasted an array of sexy tops and dresses. As manjari perused the selection of sexy tops and dresses, i asked the shop owner "Can you suggest some dresses for my wife that will make her look hot and sexy?" , subtly hinting at our shared desire for excitement."Sure, sir," he replied with a knowing look at manjari. His gaze traveled from top to bottom, and I could sense the desire in his eyes, adding an electrifying tension to the air. 

 "Madam looks already stylish and sexy," he replied with a smile. In response, manjari teasingly asked, "So you don't want me to buy anything from your shop?" "No, madam, not that way," he reassured, a hint of excitement in his voice. "I'll find you ones that will make you even more gorgeous." With that, he began to peruse the dresses hanging above. Manjari whispered to me secretly, confirming that the shopkeeper was picking up on our cues, and asked me to step out for a while after some time.

He selected three single short dresses and instructed her to try them on, pointing towards the makeshift changing area delineated by bedsheets. As she stepped inside, she quickly realized the confined space was suffocating. She called out to me, asking if it was alright for me to hold one side open as she changed.

I opened the side that wasn't visible from both the doors, ensuring her privacy. She handed me the salwar top and removed her pants, draping them over my shoulder. With one hand holding the bedsheets and the other her dresses, I watched as she stood there in just her bra and panties, a wild and unbelievable sight. My heart raced with anticipation as the shopkeeper remained just two steps away, obliviously selecting other dresses.

She tried on the first dress, a thin-strapped number that reached her thighs, revealing a deep cleavage. Standing like a model on a runway, she called out to the shopkeeper, "The chest area feels tight, it's hard to breathe." I quietly asked her if it was true, but she shook her head with a mischievous smile. 

The shopkeeper suggested trying the next one, to which she replied, "They all seem like the same size. I don't want to tire myself out by trying them all. Why don't you come and see for yourself and find the better one?" 

The shopkeeper hesitated to approach, but I encouraged him, saying, "Come and tell us, is she gorgeous in your selection of dress or not?" He accepted with an embarrassed smile, slowly making his way towards us.

The moment he laid eyes on her in that dress, he became spellbound. When I asked him how she looked, he smiled, unable to believe his eyes. She shouted back to us, commenting that the dress was tight. He suggested she wear it without a bra. Surprised, Manjari questioned, "Are you sure?" "Yes, madam," he reassured her, "it has an extra layer of stitching inside, so it won't be transparent. Try it without a bra."

Manjari attempted to unhook her bra, but she pretended to struggle, as if she couldn't unhook it."Can one of you help me with this?" Shei asked as she turned her back toward us, her voice tinged with playfulness. I instructed him to assist her in unhooking, as I held the curtain of the dressing room and her dresses. Though initially he was confused, I reassured him that it wasn't a problem and that I wouldn't mind.

As manjarii moved her hair to the front, her gorgeous back was just a step away from the shopkeeper. With a hint of shyness, he unhooked the bra beneath her dress, his fingers briefly grazing her back before quickly withdrawing. 

Manjari turned towards us with the same naughty smile, sliding the top from her shoulders on both sides and removing the bra from the dress, handing it over to the shopkeeper. He was visibly shocked as he took the bra, his eyes lingering on her nearly exposed breasts.

She adjusted the top and asked how it looked. I couldn't help but feel turned on by her sultry demeanor. The shopkeeper stood silently, speechless. "Don't you guys think it looks nice?" She prompted. I replied, "It looks amazing, Manjari." The shopkeeper admitted he was at a loss for words to describe it.

He assured us he would find a better dress and went to check the options. Meanwhile, Manjari removed the dress and stood only in her panties as he browsed. I whispered to her that I would step out for 5 minutes and return. She nodded with the sexiest smile of the day. Informing the shopkeeper that I would be back in 5 minutes, I left her dresses on the table. He replied, "Okay, sir," with a happy face.

As I stepped out of the shop, Manjari texted me "hi" on WhatsApp. I replied with a smiley. In her next message, she informed me that the shopkeeper was standing before her, waiting to hand over the dress, as she was texting me. She had asked him to wait until she finished texting. Curious, I asked her how he was feeling. She replied that he seemed nervous, but she reassured him to stay calm and assured him that I wouldn't mind.

Before I responded, she sent another text saying that he was asking if he could touch her breasts. I replied with, "You decide." After that, there was no further communication from her. 

I arrived at the ocean, watching the waves under the gentle evening sky. It was nearly 7 o'clock when I received a notification on my phone. "Come back," her text had arrived. It took her ten minutes to reply since her last message. As I walked back, I couldn't help but wonder what might have transpired.

She was dressed in a new outfit, a very short red dress with black shorts underneath that barely covered her bottom. The back of the dress revealed almost half of her back, down to her hips, and the top of the dress exposed a significant portion of her cleavage.

I couldn't help but comment on how stunning she looked in the new outfit. The shop owner grinned from ear to ear. I jokingly remarked that his selection made her look too hot and that she would trouble me all night. He replied, saying I was blessed. 

Curious about the price, I asked, and to my surprise, he said he wasn't going to charge me because he'd never had such a friendly customer. Playfully, I questioned how friendly we really were with him. He remained silent. Manjari chimed in, saying he became so friendly that he sucked her boobs and taken her bra as a souvenir. He hung his head in embarrassment. 

I asked him how he felt about the boobs and sucking them, but he stood there silently. Manjari took matters into her own hands and grabbed him over his pants, suggesting that he liked it very much by showing the errection over his pants. I held her by the waist as she maintained her firm grip on him. He smiled at her and remarked to me, "Sir, your wife is unbelievable." I replied that I had known that for almost ten years now. As she started to squeeze him, I massaged her bums and asked if she wanted to be sucked again. She turned, kissed me on the lips, and said yes.

He suggested we move to the back side of the shop, and we agreed, stepping out to the beach side. He soon followed, carrying two chairs and mentioning that he only had two available. 

The darkness enveloped us, accompanied by a gentle drizzle. The beach was nearly deserted. Manjari and I settled into the chairs while he remained standing, recounting the evening's events and expressing gratitude for the experience. I suggested to Manjari to sit on my lap, and she complied. Then, I invited him to take a seat in the vacant chair next to us, reassuring him to relax and treat us as friends. After some hesitation, he finally sat down, joining us in the intimate moment.

A peaceful silence enveloped us as we listened to the soothing sounds of the ocean and watched the clouds drift across the sky. The gentle sea breeze added to the serene atmosphere. Suddenly, Manjari broke the silence by asking him to remove her top, and she stood up from my lap. He complied without hesitation. Concerned about safety, I inquired, and he reassured me that it was Goa, and there was no need to worry. Manjari returned to my lap, wearing only her tiny shorts, radiating warmth against my skin. 

She then instructed him to come in front of her, kneel down, and suck her boobs. He obeyd her like a slave. He sucked her boobs, passionately at first, like a wild horse, but soon found his rhythm. Meanwhile, Manjari kissed me with the unstoppable energy of the ocean.

After some time, she ordered him to remove her shorts. With a slight lift of her hips from my lap, he complied, taking them off. She then shifted slightly forward on my lap and spread her legs, guiding his head between her thighs. As he pleasured her, she kissed me wildly, lost in the moment.

We resumed our journey on the bike after she reached the peak of pleasure. She sat behind me, squezzing and massaging my dick as we rode through the night roads of Goa. The bundle of clothes, including three new dresses which is free of cost and the old churidar, was secured in front of the bike. Her bra and panties were the only items that were missing.