How I Secured My PR In Canada

I never imagined that our journey to Canada would lead us down this path. But life has a way of surprising you, and sometimes, those surprises come wrapped in the most unexpected packages.

It all started when I, Anjali, a young woman in my late 20s, migrated to Canada for my studies. My husband, Ravi, joined me a year later, taking up a part-time job to support us. After completing my studies, I secured a temporary position at a small company. But we knew that to secure our Permanent Residency (PR), I needed a permanent job. So, I mustered the courage to ask my boss, Mr. Thompson, for a permanent position.

Mr. Thompson was a man in his late 60s, with a round belly and a jovial demeanor. I had always seen him as a kind, grandfatherly figure. He had a habit of greeting me with a hug, his hands often lingering on my back. I had a fair complexion, good figure, and features that turned heads, and I had noticed his gaze lingering on my breasts and curves. But I brushed it off, thinking it was just his way of showing affection.

One day, after I requested a permanent position, he looked me up and down, his eyes lingering on my body. "Anjali," he said, his voice husky, "I can make that happen. But I want something in return."

I was taken aback, not understanding his implications at first. But as he continued, his intentions became clear. He wanted a long-term relationship with me. I was shocked, disgusted, and angry. I rushed back home, tears streaming down my face, and told Ravi everything.

I expected him to be furious, to demand that we leave the company and find another way. But Ravi, ever the pragmatic one, listened to me calmly. He held my hands, his voice steady and reassuring. "Anjali, we've spent lakhs on your studies here. If we don't get our PR, we'll have to go back to Kerala. There, we won't find such high-paying jobs. How will we face our family and friends? We'll be a failure in their eyes."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I knew he was right. We had invested so much in our future here, and to go back empty-handed would be devastating. But the thought of being with Mr. Thompson, of giving my body to him, made me feel sick.

Ravi must have seen the conflict in my eyes because he continued, "No one will know, Anjali. It will be our secret. And I promise, I will be there for you. The first time, we can invite him here. You make yourself comfortable, and I will be in the living room. If you need any help, I can reach you easily."

His words offered a sense of security, a safety net in the storm of my emotions. I took a deep breath, my mind made up. I would do this, for us, for our future.

The next day, I invited Mr. Thompson over to our place. I dressed in a simple yet alluring outfit, something that would make me feel comfortable yet appealing. Ravi was in the living room, giving us some privacy but close enough to intervene if needed.

Mr. Thompson arrived, his eyes gleaming with desire as he looked at me. I led him to the bedroom, my heart pounding in my chest. I could hear Ravi's footsteps in the living room, a comforting presence in the back of my mind.

Once inside the bedroom, Mr. Thompson didn't waste any time. He pulled me into his arms, his hands roaming over my body, squeezing my breasts, my ass. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the reality of the situation, trying to focus on the end goal—our PR, our future.

He laid me down on the bed, his body covering mine. He kissed me, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth. I lay there, passive, my body tense. He undressed me, his eyes feasting on my naked body. He took his time, exploring every inch of me, his hands and mouth leaving a trail of fire on my skin.

He started with my breasts, his tongue circling my nipples, sucking them gently, then more insistently. I moaned, my body arching into his touch. He moved lower, his tongue tracing a path down my stomach, dipping into my navel. I could feel his breath on my thighs, hot and inviting. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my panties, pulling them down slowly. I lifted my hips to help him, my heart pounding in my chest.

He moved between my legs, his tongue finding my clit. He licked and sucked, his technique far superior to Ravi's. I moaned, my hands fisting the sheets, my body writhing beneath him. He slid a finger inside me, then another, pumping them in and out while his tongue continued its torture on my clit. I was close, so close. He must have sensed it because he increased his pace, his fingers curving inside me, hitting that spot that sent waves of pleasure crashing through me. I came with a cry, my body convulsing, my vision blurring.

But Mr. Thompson wasn't done. His cock, which had been only semi-erect, was now fully hard thanks to my efforts. I had helped him by my hands, and then took him in my mouth, sucking him like a pro until he was rock hard. He positioned himself at my entrance, his cock poised to enter me. It took almost 20 minutes of slow, deliberate thrusts for him to fully enter me, his body heavy on mine. He moved slowly at first, his hips grinding against mine, his fingers finding my clit, grinding it in time with his thrusts. He pinched my nipples, rolling them between his fingers, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core.

I could feel every inch of him, filling me, stretching me. I tried to focus on the sound of Ravi's footsteps, on the knowledge that this was all for our future. But the pleasure was too intense, too overwhelming. I came again, my body shaking, my mind a blur of ecstasy.

Mr. Thompson continued to move, his body slick with sweat, his breath coming in ragged gasps. I could tell he was close, but I wanted to ensure his climax. I pushed him off me, my body exhausted but my mind determined. I took his cock in my mouth, sucking him like a pro. He groaned, his hands fisting my hair, his hips bucking against my mouth. I could taste his pre-cum, salty and bitter, but I didn't stop. I wanted him to come, to finish, to know that I had pleased him.

He did, his body shuddering, his cock pulsing in my mouth. I swallowed, my throat working to take in every last drop. He collapsed on the bed, his body spent, his breath ragged.

After that night, our relationship with Mr. Thompson continued. He kept his promise, securing my PR and eventually promoting me to a managerial position. Ravi also found a good job in the company, his career flourishing alongside mine. We were living the dream, our future secure. But at what cost?

Every time Mr. Thompson came over, Ravi would be in the living room, a silent sentinel watching over me. And every time, I would endure Mr. Thompson's touch, his kisses, his body, all for the promise of a better future. But it wasn't just about the PR anymore. It was about the power, the control, the excitement. I found myself looking forward to Mr. Thompson's visits, my body craving the pleasure he gave me. I would dress up, my lingerie chosen carefully, my makeup done to perfection. I would wait for him, my body already wet with anticipation.

And Ravi, he would watch, his eyes filled with a mix of jealousy and desire. He would stroke himself, his hand moving in sync with Mr. Thompson's thrusts. He would come, his body shaking, his mind a blur of pleasure and pain.

Our dynamic changed, evolved. We were no longer just a couple trying to secure our future. We were a trio, bound by lust, desire, and the thrill of the forbidden. We were living a double life, our secrets hidden behind closed doors, our pleasures whispered in the dark.

And it wasn't just us. I knew of other couples, other women, who had done the same. They had bartered their bodies for a better future, their PR, their jobs, their success. It was a dirty little secret, a whispered truth in the immigrant community. Many had gotten their PR like this only.

We were not unique. We were not special. We were just another couple, playing the game, following the rules. And in the end, wasn't that what life was all about? Making choices, taking risks, and living with the consequences. And for us, that meant embracing the erotic, the taboo, the forbidden. For our future, for our love, for our lust.