EPISODES
01
All the characters in this story are fictional. The narration happens in the view of the female lead, most times, and her husband as and when the story requires. Please let me know how much you liked the story.
VEENA NARRATES…
Hello there! I am Veena, age 25. I am a freelance interior designer. Yes, I am married to my lovely husband, Deepak. I worked for two years for a major interiors firm after my graduation, and that’s when my family decided to marry me off to Deepak. I was reluctant to get married at all. Due to some personal crises, I accepted the proposal. It turned out that Deepak is an adorable guy, understanding, sensitive and loving husband. He is around 5 foot 9 inches, fit and handsome. He respected my career choice and let me continue my work. But to make things easier at home, I resigned from the firm and started freelancing and being a simple housewife. We now stay in Visakhapatnam, a beach city on the coast of Andhra Pradesh.
It has been two years since we got married. No, we don’t have kids, and we don’t plan to anytime soon. Deepak is a great guy and good in bed. If he tried hard, he could satisfy any average Indian woman. Let me say that I hadn’t been normal before my marriage. I lost my virginity as soon as I turned 18. Things have rolled out quite crazy since then. Overall, I had been a naughty girl. A story for another time. A story of how my desires in bed (or other places) were unconventional.
Whenever Deepak couldn’t give me orgasms with his dick, he would go down on me, lick my pussy and make me cum. He developed a good technique with his tongue. Too bad I couldn’t say that about his dick. He is average-sized. He couldn’t satisfy me in bed. After two years of our marriage, I am more than a little frustrated about sex. That’s when I decided I constantly needed incredible orgasms, and I would do something about it. I had been faithful to Deepak; hence I didn’t want to have sex with other men. But I needed a lot of excitement to cum hard.
Exhibitionism. Old habits die hard. I have been an exhibitionist since my college days. Now I decided I’ll have some fun outdoors, come back home, masturbate or fuck Deepak. I thought that all he had to do was stimulate my clit just enough to send me overboard into bliss.
Since it’s my first time after the marriage, I chose an evening time for the adventure. When I came back home, Deepak would be waiting at home, so he could fuck me for all of the three minutes.
It was 6PM. I wore a yellow t-shirt that showed my navel and a good amount of cleavage, about half my boobs. It is a loose one, so I could show off a hint of my nipples with my tits hanging whenever I bend a bit. I wore tight jeans, which showed off my ass curves and thighs. Ooh, I haven’t described my body, right? I weigh at 55 and stand at 5 foot 4 inches. During my college days, I had a little larger than C-cup breasts. Now I have a full D, gravity-defying tits. Even when covered in traditional Indian clothes, I turn many heads from teenagers to old men. I still enjoy being watched in public. I consciously walk in a way to jiggle my boobs and sway my hips for attention from on-lookers. Anyway, I have cute brown nipples and pink areolas around them. Thanks to my disciplined exercise routine, I have a flat stomach and toned thighs.
Ready for my adventure, I took my car and went to a busy marketplace in town. I wanted some stationery items for my work, and there is one shop that I usually buy at. The shopkeeper is a 51-year-old man, shorter than me, and always looked at me hungrily, even when I was draped in a saree. I thought – why not start there. So, I parked my car a kilometre away from the shop. I’d go walking from there. Before getting out of the car, I looked in the mirror and adjusted my top, making myself ‘presentable’. One could see the outline of my Mangal sutra (a necklace worn by married women of India) inside my t-shirt. I took my purse, stepped out of the car and started walking towards the shop.
As soon as I got out of the car, I observed that I did turn a few heads, first to my face and then my big tits. I loved it. It was quite a busy street. A lot of people brushed past me, coping a feel of my breasts as they passed by. I could feel my nipples become harder by the second.
When I reached the shop, the shopkeeper recognized me immediately. Before, he only saw me in sarees (an Indian traditional dress for women). But today, that changed. He saw me in western clothing for the first time. That too in a top that is made to show off a good part of my tits. I could see that he liked it. He first scanned my face, smiled, then lowered his gaze to my chest. His smile turned into a wide grin.
The shop had no customers except me. Although the street behind was not empty. He was on the other side of the wooden counter.
“Hello, madam, it’s been a while since we last had you at our shop.”
There was also his assistant, probably aged 19, in the shop. He quickly turned to him and said, “Kiddo, get a coke for madam here.” I declined, but the shopkeeper insisted. The kid took off in a flash.
“Tell me, madam, what can I do for you?” he asked.
“I would like to buy some pencils, Hb and darker.”
He turned around, took a few steps, searched for the pencils on one of the shelves and found them. He looked about 50 years old, at least 4 inches shorter than me, bald, a slight paunch on his stomach. He wasn’t attractive at all. But something pulled me towards him; maybe it’s his attitude and confidence whenever he talked to me.
“Your beauty grows every other time I see you here. Not to mention those full lips of yours, ever so gorgeous.”
He started flirting right away, that old bugger. He is not a ‘taking time’ kind of a guy, I guess. ‘But two people are going to play this game this evening, old man’, I thought. I parted my lips slightly and smiled. When he turned back towards me, he was surprised. It was probably the first time I ever smiled at him.
“Oh, thank you, Mister – ”
“Kabir.”
He walked to me and placed the pencil set on the desk. As if checking out the pencils, I bent down and put my elbows on the desk. This gave a clear view of my cleavage.
I said about the pencils, “Kabir-Ji, aren’t they beautiful?”
He was staring overtly into my t-shirt now. Referring to my tits, he said, “Oh yes, dear, these are indeed beautiful.”
Then I pointed to something on the packaging to ask something. When I moved the hand, the inside part of my arm pushed my boobs together, making a better view of them. I suspect he could slightly see my nipples as well. He was looking hungrily into my t-shirt, wide-eyed and almost drooling. I looked down to see what I was showing. He could see both my globes straining inside my bra and the Mangal sutra. I looked up at him, and our eyes met.
“Kabir-Ji, you were very naughty looking at my… things like that.”
“But I am not sorry, lady. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life. Your body deserved to be looked at and complimented.”
I blushed a little. “Umm… thank you, Kabir-Ji”, I said softly.
Neither did I move, nor he stopped looking at my cleavage. I pretended to check out the pencils. I was getting aroused each second passing. Further, I wanted to show him more. I saw some canvas sheets behind him on the floor.
“What are those?” I leaned forward a lot more, and my Mangal sutra slipped out of my t-shirt.
“Oops… ” I exclaimed.
In this angle, he could see the whole of my bra-clad breasts, probably my navel, through the neck hole.
I stood back up. Kabir-Ji saw me as I stood seductively in front of him.
“That should be inside my t-shirt”, I said and smiled. I looked into his eyes, but I did not attempt to put it inside my t-shirt. He took my hint. He reached out his hand, lifted it and put the thread inside my t-shirt between my cleavage, brushing his fingers as he did so.
“Mmhhh… ” I let out a slight moan in response. He withdrew his hand.
I decided to buy the pencil set and asked him the price.
“450 rupees, madam”, he replied.
I opened my purse and fiddled through the cash. He could see that I had a few 500-hundred-rupee notes in my wallet. As soon as he registered that, I closed my purse.
“Oh no, Kabir-Ji. I think I left my cash at home, nor did I bring my cards.”
He grinned. “That’s unfortunate, my dear. But payment must be made.”
It was all going on an excellent track. The thought that this pervy old man has seen half my tits and was working to take more from me. We were on the same page until now. I am already aroused enough. All it takes is a little stimulation on my clit, and I would cum. But something inside me wanted more. Being myself after a long while, I was hungry for more. Just like Kabir. But what should I do for him? His eyes were glued to my chest. Should I show them or let him touch them?
“What do you want as payment, Kabir-Ji?” I pressed forward as I said that. The ball is in his park now.
“How about you let me hold those beautiful boobs of yours for 20 seconds?”
“Oh, Kabir-Ji, how could you ask me that!!!” He was taken aback and wasn’t sure what to say next.
I changed my expression. “Would that cover the cost of the pencil set?” I asked.
“Half.”
“Deal”, I said.
‘Time for some touching’, I thought. Kabir’s hands were enormous. He hungrily lunged forward and held both of my tits in his hands, over my t-shirt! However, the marketplace behind me had no clue that such an incident was taking place in public. We weren’t hiding. My back was towards the road, and none except us could know what we were doing.
He was pressing them softly for a few seconds and then started fondling my globes faster and harder.
“Aaahhh…” I let out a moan. He understood that I loved what he was doing.
“Kabir-Ji, what about the other half of my payment… aahhhh..”
“For that, dear, allow me to fondle your breasts… over your bra.”
“Oh okay, Kabir-Ji… aahhhh… that is fair.”
He took the green light well. He put his hands inside my t-shirt and fondled my boobs over the bra. He started stimulating my nipples. It was so hot, and I was very turned on at that moment. It was the first time after my marriage, a man other than my husband was mauling my boobs. That too in public.
“Ohh yes, Kabir-Ji… keep doing that.” Interested, I glimpsed at his lap. It formed a big tent in his lungi (a towel kind of a garment that Indians wear when at home). I must say I was impressed and intrigued. It must definitely have been bigger than my husband’s.
We lost track of time. It must have been two minutes, which felt so good when the kid arrived at the shop. Kabir quickly withdrew his hands, and I reset my t-shirt.
“That must settle it, madam. Hope you liked our service”, he said.
“Yes, Kabir-Ji. I will be back for more for sure. I mean, I am working on a project, and I would need more materials. I will come back soon to buy some more.” I winked at him.
“I can’t wait for that, madam. Please have this before you leave”, he offered me the beverage.
“Another time Kabir-Ji. Thank you.”
“Okay. Be back soon, madam.”
He was smiling, which is different from earlier. It was a smile of lust earlier. It was a smile of conquest now. That confident bastard. I am definitely coming back for more, and he knows that. I needed to see what he was packing and what the source of his confidence was.
With me satisfied, I started back to my car. I called Deepak to check if he was back home.
“Hey Deepak, where are you, honey?”
“I am still at work. It could be another two to three hours of work tonight. Sorry, darling. I know I have said I’d be home soon today. But please forgive me.”
‘Uggghh… noo… Just when I needed him!’
“It’s okay, honey. Finish up and come home,” I said.
“How was the shopping?”
“I am returning home. Talk to you later.” And I cut the call.
I got to my car and drove home. Things turned out pretty well, just as I expected. While driving home, I recalled the events that happened. As they flashed in my eyes, my nipples were pressing the inside fabric of my bra. My boobs were heaving. There was a tingling feeling in my private region down below.
When I reached our home, I saw a young chap at the gate next to our home. As it turned out later, they are our new neighbours. A few college students moved in next door, and he was one of them. He was paying off some helper, probably someone who might have helped him move luggage into the house.
That’s when I realized. My god! This guy is one of the hottest persons I have ever set my eyes upon. He stood at about 6 foot 2 inches, fair, chiselled beard, and was quite hunky. He looked quite a stud. Just when I thought I should have extra fun with guys like him.
When I got out of the car, he looked towards me. I didn’t look at him yet, but I could see he was checking me out from the corner of my eyes, from head to toe. ‘Can he be someone I was hoping he is?’ I decided to test him. I dropped my keys on the road ‘accidentally’ and bent down to pick them up. My toned ass was facing him. I took my time picking them. But I knew he was checking me out again. I could feel his eyes on my body.
Without standing up straight, I turned my head towards him and caught him glancing at my bum. “Hello,” I greeted.
He averted his eyes to mine and replied, “Hello there! I am your new neighbour, Rohan.”
“I am Veena.”
I stepped closer to him. He was inside the compound, leaning against the gate. As I got closer, I could see his ripped arms. He definitely gave me a bad boy vibe as I went closer to him. I wondered what those hands could do to me if I’d let him.
We chatted for a while. He is a final year fashion technology graduate student from a nearby college. He briefly mentioned that he was also a photographer and a model sometimes. All the while, he kept checking me out, quite blatantly at that.
“Veena, you look stunning. You could be a model if you wanted to. Let’s plan a photoshoot sometime.”
I blushed a little. He kept complimenting me, and my cheeks flushed pink, like a teenage girl.
“Your husband is a lucky guy to be with a dynamite body like yours. Damn! I envy him,” he continued.
It made me feel good. This guy is quite charming, showering me with all these compliments. Before we left, we exchanged numbers.
“Let me know if I could be of any help to you, Rohan. Feel free to ping me anytime”, I said.
“Surely, Veena. I look forward to hanging out with you too.”
I realized there was no one else in the street. Good time to show my intentions, just so that there is no confusion going ahead. I went closer and hugged him, although the compound gate was separating us. But I made sure that I pressed my boobs onto his chest hard. I held him for about three seconds. I smiled, turned around and walked to our door. I waved to him once more as I shut the front door.
Until now, I wanted to come back home and masturbate. Now I was thinking of pushing the boundaries a little. Hence, I went upstairs, removed my jeans and panty. I took off my bra and put on a white tank top. I pulled it slightly down so that it showed ample cleavage. ‘Do I dare?’ I thought. ‘Yes, I do.’
Wearing just the top and my Mangal Sutra, I took the stairs to our roof. Ours is a suburbs kind of area. There were no buildings taller than four stories in our neighbourhood. Thankfully, there weren’t many middle-aged or old people in our locality. Since the fashion college is relatively near, most residents in our area were students.
I opened the door to the rooftop. Since it was dark, nothing much could be seen. Anyways, I would no longer care even if someone sees. That thought only fuelled my excitement. I dried the clothes that morning. Under the pretence of removing the clothes, I walked around, removing clothes from the wire, folded them and kept them in the basket. I was hoping Rohan would want another glimpse at me through the windows. Just at that moment, he appeared at the window on the first floor. He searched for me on the first floor and then looked up to check if I was anywhere. He found me and waved hi again. I waved back at him.
Since there was a parapet wall, he couldn’t detect that I wasn’t wearing anything below my torso. However, as I continued folding the washed clothes, his eyes were glued to my tits and my perfect milky white torso. He could see the yellow thread of my Mangal Sutra and the outline of the talisman inside my top. While doing the work, I deliberately jiggled my boobs. I could tell he was feasting on my bouncing tits, waiting for them to fall out of the top in all their glory. Occasionally, I would look at him and smile, and he would do the same. We didn’t talk.
Once I folded all the clothes, I started towards the stairs. I got to our bedroom, and I was horrified by what I saw. I left the window of the bedroom open, directly opposite to our neighbours. I froze for a second. He could now see my naked lower body. He could see my pussy and could probably tell it was wet.
Calmly, I put my left hand on my torso, put one leg forward, and looked at him. I struck a pose! He didn’t need another invitation. Within seconds he fired up his DSLR camera. I closed my eyes, bit my lower lip, making a sensual face. Then I heard faint clicking noises from the camera. ‘Just a little more to make his day’, I thought.
I pulled the Mangal Sutra out of my top, then slowly and seductively lifted my top, about two inches. Just enough so that he could see my under-boobs, with the Mangal Sutra pendant just below them. He gulped and took another photo.
Then I removed my top completely. Even while removing it, I could tell he took a picture of it too. I put one hand across my tits, covering my nipples and squeezed my boobs together.
Click!
Now I looked directly at the camera. A lot of feelings were burning up inside me. I was too horny to think straight. I put both my hands to the sides, showing my whole body.
Click!
I raised my hands, put them over my head, turned slightly, about fifteen degrees to my left, and showed my milky white sensuous thighs. I tilted my head back a little and looked at the camera.
Click!
Next, I walked towards the window. I held the vertical grill of the pane and smiled at the camera.
Click!
If he wasn’t still impressed by my body (why would he not be!), what I did next would have worked the charm. I held the grill with my hands and pushed my boobs out through the grill. My erect nipples and my big milky tits were a feast to his eyes.
Click!
‘Enough for today, I thought and closed the window. If I proceeded any further, I would have cum in front of him. As much as I don’t have a problem with that, I would eventually do those things with him. For now, I pinched my nipples with one hand and inserted fingers into my wet sopping cunt. I recalled the evening events one after the other. First, an old shopkeeper, just as old as my father, mauled at my tits with his big rough hands. Next, I showed my whole body to our new neighbour, who happened to be a handsome stud. Not only that, I let him take pictures of me. ‘Someday, we should pose together nude,’ I thought. Fingering faster, it then took me less than one minute to cum.
Once I caught my breath, I got up to go and shower peacefully. As I lay in the bathtub, my phone, which was beside me, chimed. A WhatsApp notification.
I opened it to find those pictures that Rohan took a while ago. I looked stunning in those clicks.
“You are the sexiest model I have ever laid my eyes upon. Not to mention those perfect big rack of yours. I look forward to having more fun with you, neighbour. ;)”
‘Yes, I look forward to having more fun too, neighbour xoxo’, I replied.
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DEEPAK NARRATES…
I have a beautiful wife. Nah… ‘beautiful’ is an understatement for Veena. She is damn sexy with curves at all the right places. Her tits made the most immeasurable impression when I first saw her, even though she was in a saree. I felt fortunate to have married such a bombshell. Wherever we went, she always turned many guys’ heads. Some would openly glare at her perfect boobs. Over time, I felt great that other men envied me. My office colleagues were also jealous of me. Once, I overheard my colleagues talking about my wife. They explicitly talked about how they would love to see what’s behind the dresses she wears and possibly play with her boobs if given a chance.
Initially, I used to be angered by such comments but never did anything. Later, I started feeling proud that I was married to such a trophy wife. Oddly, I was proud whenever anyone talked, and I overheard, about my wife’s body.
One night, I was driving back home from the office. My phone chimed while I was going. A few moments later, I was at a red-light stop. I presumed it must be a message from my wife enquiring when I’d be back home. I still had around 50 seconds until the lights went green. I opened my phone to see that it was a WhatsApp notification from an unknown number.
I was shocked by my bones when I saw the pictures. My eyes widened as I stared at the photos. They were of my wife, and she was wearing only a tank top and the Mangal Sutra. ‘How come some stranger have these photos with him? Is he spying on my wife?’ I thought.
The photo I saw next confirmed that my sexy wife was a willing participant in this incident. She was looking directly at the camera! She was willingly showing off her naked assets to this man (or woman). She only sported the Mangal Sutra in her body and struck alluring poses. Her body was screaming to get fucked.
I was instantly angry, but it subsided. I was pretty aroused too. The thought that my wife was doing such things behind my back was oddly stimulating. My dick is definitely hard. It’s such a turn on to see my wife exhibiting herself like that. ‘There is a raw sexual diva inside her which I have never known!’
A faint knock on my window brought me back to my senses. It was a motorcyclist next to me, suggesting to me that the light went green. He grinned as he saw my phone and the pictures on display. Confused and horny, I drove back to my home.
TBC
