Vidya suffers further at the hands of Wasim — Rajesh… I watched the screen, mesmerized. Not only was I alone in my office cabin, but it was lunch hour, and there was no one else on the whole floor — all the workers had gone for the typical super long Friday lunch. I watched my monitor, with the sound quite low, watching my own house. Or rather, this was the camera in my living room. I was watching what was happening live.
Prev story Indian wife’s old lover the milkman returns, with friends
Pinned against one wall of the living room was my tall, buxom wife Vidya. Her bright red sari was on the floor in a heap, crumpled. As was her petticoat, lying at her ankles. Her blouse was open. She was not wearing a bra, and her big, full, heavy breasts were helplessly bouncing around, her nipples firm and erect. My attention was drawn to her milky white calves, and the bright red thong that she was wearing. Her fair body glistened in the afternoon light filtering through the windows, and her jet black hair was loose, and fell to shoulders and reached to her waist. She was a sight to behold — a glimpse of water in a desert to a thirsty man.
Holding my naked wife by her hand, pinning her against the wall, was our burly, tall, brute of a guard Wasim. He now pressed against Vidya, nibbling at her neck. Held firmly, my wife’s eyes were shut as her paramour continued to nibble at her neck. His hands groped her tits, and my wife helplessly continued to murmur something as Wasim pinched her areoles. Her body shivered sporadically, and from the spasms I could understand she was experiencing a mini-orgasm. Wasim then stepped back, and I noticed a bright red hickey on my wife’s nape. His hands now roughly stroked my wife in her pubic area. So thin was Vidya’s thong that I could see her bushy pubic hair as Wasim crudely fondled her nether regions.
“Memsaab.” The guard grinned, casually loosening his belt. “My pyaari bitch! You know the drill. Spread your legs, randi. I want to see your pyaasi choot — your thirsty pussy.”
For a second my wife looked defiantly at him. Her eyes shone with anger — was it mock anger, I could not tell — but then she suddenly looked down, ashamed, and unbelievably parted her thighs, standing spread eagled against the wall. In our own house, this was my wife, spreading her long legs for another man. Our lowly guard.
I almost couldn’t breathe, even though I had seen this sight many a times before. The full realization of what was happening caught in my throat, even as my cock stiffened at the sight of my wife slowly giving in — again — to this low class guard. I made more in a day than what Wasim made in a whole year, yet I watched helplessly as this Muslim man from Hyderabad pressed against my powerless wife’s spread legs, his hands going inside her thong, rubbing against her clit.
Vidya’s eyes were shut. She groaned, her boobs flouncing around helplessly as Wasim roughly fingered her in the pussy. She didn’t want to, but the fingering left her body no choice. She was in the throes of the onset of another orgasm.
“Memsaab.” Wasim sneered. “Looks like your cunt is quite wet for me. Hasn’t your husband been taking care of you, saali?”
Vidya opened her eyes and looked at him. This time I could see that the defiance was real.
“You know very well you and Feroz have been fucking me daily for the last two weeks.” She retorted. “So it’s not a question of my husband’s impotency.”
“Hmm.” Wasim laughed, continuing to finger her. “So you are just a slut and a whore! A bitch whose pussy is wet all the time.”
Humiliated, Vidya did not reply. She could not reply, as what Wasim said was true. Despite being fucked daily by the guards, Vidya’s pussy was now dripping like a faucet. The fact that she was submitting to these lowly men was turning her on. She could not deny it. She was a sex addict — a slut and a nymphomaniac. She also happened to by my wife.
I could see her breath narrowing. She was almost on the verge of an orgasm from all the fingering. Suddenly, without warning, Wasim stopped playing with her twat and withdrew his hand. Vidya’s mouth almost twisted into a pleading “O”. She was on the edge and wanted to cum, but her pride held her back from begging this guard to finish the job. Wasim looked at her, holding out his wet and sticky fingers, grinning.
“Lick them, memsaab.” He ordered, placing his wet and sticky hand against her lips.
Once again there was a momentary flash of defiance in Vidya’s eyes, before she lowered her gaze and obediently opened her mouth. Happy at how he was bullying my wife into submission, Wasim put each finger into her mouth, one by one, and Vidya dutifully licked off her own love juices off his large hand. He then placed his palm against her cheek and tapped her there.
“Please, Wasim.” Vidya suddenly begged. “Please don’t slap me. Please. I am doing what you are asking me to.”
Was she really begging him for mercy, or did she just say it because Wasim loved to hear a high class respectable housewife beg and plead?
“Vidya. Vidya.” Wasim gently, almost lovingly, caressed my wife’s cheek. “It’s not just the fact that you are doing what I am ordering you to. I have yet to see a proper and obedient attitude from you, do you understand, memsaab? Despite these two weeks of fucking you, you still have a false sense of pride and ego when it comes to us guards.”
Vidya nodded, even as Wasim raised his hand.
“Yes, yes, Wasim.” She said, her eyes watching his raised hand warily. “Please, Wasim, don’t slap me. I will be respectful to you. I am your bitch. Your whore. I am another man’s wife, yet I obediently submit my body to you and your friends, without question, daily. Yet every day I get slapped by you. Please tell me why. I will try to improve. I promise!”
Wasim lowered his hands quickly. Vidya flinched, but Wasim wasn’t going to slap her — he was just pretending to. He was playing with her. He softly touched her cheek as Vidya sharply drew in her breath.
“Don’t worry, memsaab. Today, I won’t slap you. At least, not yet.” He gently stroked her soft, rosy cheeks. With his other hand he unbuckled his belt, and his trousers dropped to the floor. “Where else would I find a bitch like you?! You give me for free what 50-rupee-hookers won’t give for 200 rupees! Now you know what to do, memsaab!”
Vidya did indeed know what to do. She reached out and pulled down Wasim’s underwear. His hard, monstrous cock sprang out, free from the confines of clothing, and rose like a majestic rider about to mount its steed. My wife.
Wasim was now naked from waist down, his T-shirt partly obscuring his buttocks. Vidya moved her hands expertly over his gigantic cock, rubbing and kneading and stroking him, and in no time at all he was hard — very hard. If Vidya had placed her hand alongside her lover’s penis, I am sure it would reach to her elbow. OK, I am exaggerating, but it seemed big. Wasim glanced at my wife and then snapped his fingers.
Vidya stared back at him — the last time she would look today at him defiantly. Then she just bent down her gaze submissively and lowered her own thong. I could see that despite the rough way Wasim had been treating her, her body was now primed for sex. Her pubic hair glistened with her own wetness, and her nipples were firm and erect, and her areoles big. As she stepped out of her panty, now fully naked except for the half open blouse, Wasim grabbed my beautiful, athletic wife, pinned her against the wall and slammed against her.
“Ooohhh! Ooohhh!” Vidya cried out, as Wasim’s cock found its target, and tunneled its way into her, burying deep inside her. “Oh, Wasim! Oh, Wasim! Gently! Oh, Wasim!”
“You are very quick to take my name.” The muscular guard taunted as he fucked her, grinning as he vigorously moved his hips, his T-shirt flapping with each violent thrust. “Do you take MY name when your husband fucks you too?”
“Oh, Wasim!” Vidya could only murmur helplessly, her eyes shut, her pretty face contorted. She was leaning back against the wall behind her, bracing as Wasim slammed into her again, and again, and again. Her hands now wrapped themselves around her lover’s waist, holding him by his hips, almost subtly, gently controlling, nay directing, the way this brute was fucking her.
This was classic Vidya. In a trice she was subtly in charge, directing the way Wasim was making love to her the way a conductor directs an orchestra. If Vidya wanted Wasim to push harder into her, she would wrap his waist more tightly. If she wanted him to lower the pace, she would grip the side of his hips. If she wanted him to remain buried in her for a bit, she would gently brush his ass. Wasim didn’t even realize how he was being controlled as he moved his cock in and out of her pussy.
For some time I watched as the two continued to hump. They were still standing, but her knees were almost ready to buckle. Wasim was grinning, and I could see his rugged square jaw with his thick beard, as he kissed my wife’s cheeks and face and breasts and lips and the nape of her neck. The sounds of him fucking her continued, what with my wife’s soft sharp moans, the rhythmic sound of flesh slapping flesh, and Wasim’s heavy breathing as he neared his own climax. He was now slowly taking back control of the love making from Vidya.
My own penis was hard now. If this wasn’t at work, I would have taken it out and jerked myself to an orgasm. As it is, I was rubbing myself furiously through my jeans.
“Oh, Wasim. Have mercy. Please don’t cum inside me.” My wife softly pleaded. “I am not on the pill.”
“Oh, no, memsaab.” Wasim grinned, his teeth baring an evil sneer. “I am going to cum inside you, my bitch, and fill your Hindu belly with my seed.”
He started to fuck her harder now. Vidya’s thin gold bangles were tinkling and her fingers desperately clawed at Wasim’s buttocks. My wife began to buckle under his fierce assault. She was struggling to stand, her thighs were spread lewdly, one ankle lifting from the ground to balance herself as Wasim drilled into her. The gold mangalsutra — that necklace every married Indian Hindu lady wore — bounced up and about around her neck with each thrust. Yet she once again repeated her plea.
“Please, Wasim.” Vidya begged. “I am not on the pill. Please use a condom. Or let me finish you with a blowjob.”
“No, memsaab. Let’s see if you get pregnant.”
Vidya’s pleas seem to have only made the lowly guard thrust harder into my wife. His huge frame moved like a car’s piston, pumping into her again and again. The sound of their raw sex, as flesh hit flesh, only got more intense. His powerful body held her up while he fucked her, a monument to his stamina and strength. He leaned in to her, placing his lips on hers.
A sharp pang of jealousy hit me as I witnessed my wife and her lover embrace in a passionate kiss. His tongue sought hers, and her tongue sought his, as they locked lips. Her chest heaved, pushing out her breasts as this filthy lower class guard ravaged her with his tongue even as his penis was ravaging her married cunt. A cunt that rightfully belong to only me. As they exchanged saliva, I could see Vidya’s toes begin to curl. She was having an orgasm.
“Oh Wasim! OH WASIM! Oh FUCK FUCK FUCK! CUM IN ME! PLEASE CUM IN ME!”
What?! She was now asking this man to cum inside her unprotected belly. Was she not on the pill, as she said? Would Wasim now cum inside her? Surely he wouldn’t!
I got my answer. Wasim grunted and then gave out a large roar, and pushed himself even deeper inside my wife, lifting her body completely from the ground and pinning her violently to the wall. His buttocks were now clenching and unclenching, and I could see his whole body start to shudder powerfully. He couldn’t hold himself back — he was now cumming hard inside her. Vidya was clinging fiercely to him — her hands wrapped around his neck, and her ankles locked behind his thighs. Wasim’s hips clenched and pushed in time with each spurt. He was swearing all the time, muttering something about “giving his Hindu bitch a Muslim baby” as he dumped his potent baby making juice inside my wife.
After a minute, Wasim’s body visibly relaxed as he finished unloading inside my wife, and he sighed with pleasure. Vidya watched him, and unbelievably she clasped her hands behind his neck and drew him in for another kiss! Wasim grunted with pleasure, and took his time savouring her as they embraced once again in a passionate lip lock. I could only see his back as he pressed against her, but her hands moved all over his back. Even as they kissed, his pecker was still buried deep inside my wife.
“Vidya.” Wasim said, as he took his penis out. Thick cum ran down Vidya’s thighs as her paramour pulled out. “Look at me.”
“Yes, Wasim.” My wife tried to close her thighs but more cum came out of her hole. Her knees were buckling; she was in no shape to stand on her own after the love making she had received.
“Vidya.” Wasim repeated. “You still haven’t bought a yellow sari. I told you I want to see you in a yellow sari. Like the actress Raveena Tandon in the movie Mohra. It’s been more than a week since I have been telling you.”
“Yes, I am sorry, Wasim. I will try and buy one tonight.”
SLAP!
Wasim had raised his hand and slapped my wife. Vidya looked at him, a little frightful, but not surprised. It appeared that she had been expecting to be punished after the guard had his way with her. What had she said to him before? Yet every day I get slapped by you.
“I am sorry, Wasim.” She repeated. “I will buy a yellow sari tonight.”
SLAP!
“And why are you not on the pill? You know I don’t like to use a condom with you!”
“I am sorry, Wasim. I just forgot to take one today.”
SLAP!
“Hopefully, memsaab, you get pregnant.” Wasim grinned. “My seed is very fertile, they say. Now lick my cock clean, slut.”
It took Vidya sometime to fully recover after Wasim had left. Thick cum was still running all the way down her thighs and her hair was disheveled, her make up ruined and her buttocks red from Wasim’s pawing and kneading. There were two bright red marks on her rosy cheeks where she had been slapped. I watched as Vidya cleaned up the area and then went off to take a shower. Knowing that it was over, at least for the moment, I shut off the camera app.
Let me take a step back and start from the beginning. This particular latest sordid episode of my wife’s shameless saga of adultery had begun about two weeks ago.
I was just finishing up my breakfast before heading out to work. It had been a Monday, and I was so not feeling like going to office after spending a lovely super long weekend with my wife. I had taken Wednesday, Thursday and Friday off, and Vidya and I had rented a small cabin in a super luxurious resort an hour away. It was our fifth marriage anniversary and we had celebrated in style.
We spent the whole weekend doing nothing but making love and enjoying each other’s company. I had gone completely all out and made sure this was a holiday to remember. I pampered Vidya, giving her massages, foot rubs, back rubs, candle lit baths, getting her breakfast in bed and of course satisfying her as she wanted in my limited capacity as a man. I would often lick her ass, or go down on her orally until she would reach orgasm. Then I would be allowed a few minutes to dump my cum in her, in whichever hole of hers I preferred.
Mostly I chose to make love to her in the missionary position, and she humoured me by pretending to climax — even though the longest I managed to last was two minutes. A few times she gave me a blowjob. One time I asked her to take her anally, and she obliged, laughing when I tried to be a little rough with her, calling it “cute”. So small was my penis that I didn’t even need to use much lube.
It was a nice change for Vidya as well. She was getting some proper attention to her feminine needs from a loving man rather than being banged hard by some masculine lower class men. That’s how I comforted myself, even as my wife took the name of some other man every time I drilled into her.
Afterwards she would apologize to me for doing that.
“Hi sugar.” She would say. “You don’t mind me taking Ramu’s name during sex, do you, darling? It helps me reach orgasm soon, as you try to fill me up, baby doll.”
And of course I would reply, “Oh, no, dear. I don’t mind at all! Anything that makes you happy, makes me happy, dear.”
“Oh, you are such a sweetie pie, dear. Now bend down and kiss my foot.”
It was hard to believe, but it has been only over two and a half years since she took that first step towards cuckolding me, having that affair with my boss Gaurav. If you remember, it was supposed to be a one-time thing. And true to her words, Vidya had not had another affair for another 6 months. And then came our anniversary and Ramu the milkman. And that had been at my urging, so her affair with Ramu was really her anniversary gift to me. After she had been Ramu’s mistress for a while, it was only then that I had broached embracing this lifestyle fully to her. I still don’t know what I had been thinking when I proposed this to her — but it was to completely change our relationship.
Before, I had this sex goddess completely to myself, and she seemed happy to devote herself to me. Now I was just one of the many men who used her body for our pleasure. The only difference between me and the other men was that I was her husband. And of course the fact that those men all had large cocks and unlike me, knew how to pleasure my wife.
So it was only in the last two years or so of our five year marriage that Vidya had been actively sleeping on and off with other men — first with Ramu the milkman, then with our neighbor Balachandra the retired army officer, and then with Ramu again and with Wasim the guard, and then the infamous gangbang with Rami, Wasim and their friends — which included one other guard from our complex – Feroz. I don’t know why, but most of the men Vidya chose to sleep with are from the lower strata of society.
Vidya still hadn’t told me that she was now getting banged regularly by the guards in our gated community — primarily Wasim and Feroz. It had been a whole two months since that gangbang, yet so far I was not privy to any of the details. All I was told was that sometime, once or twice, Ramu the milkman would pay her a visit. Or sometimes she would ask me to spend the night in a hotel as Balachandra would be visiting.
It was this one rule in our new marital arrangement that Vidya was very firm upon. I was never to ask her for details about her affairs or her lovers. She would share if she wanted, when she wanted. Otherwise, I was to just listen and obey.
“Darling.” I had once asked Vidya one night in bed. “Are you seeing anyone ELSE right now?”
I knew the answer, of course. Just a couple of days ago, the two guards Wasim and Feroz and dropped in. Vidya had spent an hour servicing the two burly men, with Feroz’s cock in her mouth and Wasim’s in her cunt, before switching around for the second round. In between, she had spent plenty of time being slapped, spanked and spit upon, mostly by Wasim. But she had told me nothing. All of this I knew, of course, was through those “secret” cameras. And the way the guards smirked at me when I walked past them. Or how they exaggerated their salute to me, while laughing and winking with each other. But as per our own rules, I was never to ask Vidya about her dalliances. Yet I could not help myself.
“Oh, come on, babe.” Vidya made a face. “Why would you ask me that, babydoll? I told you not to. OK, now come here. I want you to sit here, darling. Now … good. Show me your cheek!”
“Yes, dear.” I meekly obeyed. I knew what was coming, of course.
SLAP!
It was not some gentle, playful slap. It had been a strong, powerfully struck slap.
“Darling.” Vidya slowly rubbed her hand that she had struck me with against her thigh before raising it again. “How many times have I fucking told you …”
SLAP!
“… that my fucking affairs …”
SLAP!
“… as you yourself fucking agreed to …”
SLAP!
“… are my own fucking business?”
SLAP!
“I am sorry, baby.” I apologized, even as my cheeks began to sting. “I know I shouldn’t ask, but I was just curious.”
SLAP!
SLAP!
Vidya slapped me a couple more times even as I apologized meekly. Then she lovingly cupped my cheeks with both of her hands.
“There, there, sweetie.” Vidya leaned in proceeded to kiss me. By the time she was done, I was ready to cum. Vidya saw my erect manhood and laughed.
“Not immediately, my little cuckold. First you will kiss my ass and lick my asshole.”
“Yes, dear.”
That was my life as a husband now. After getting slapped by my wife for daring to ask about her lovers, she made me hard just by kissing me, before ordering me to kiss her ass if I wanted to cum. I had no sense of self-respect.
Another time, after going down on her, I decided to broach the topic again. Basically going down on her was the only way I gave her an orgasm.
“Darling,” I asked her tentatively, even as she was still panting from her climax, “Other than Ramu, or Balachandra, is there anyone else you are seeing right now?”
Vidya sadly shook her head.
“My dear husband.” She exclaimed. “How many times I have to tell you not to question me on my affairs? Your tiny penis cannot handle neither me, nor the details of my lovers!”
Vidya had made me bend over a chair, and proceed to spank my ass with her hand until she was happy with my apology for asking that question. Only then was I allowed to make love to her. After that thorough spanking, I lasted merely half a minute once I was inside her, much to her amusement.
If you notice, Vidya had now slowly started to punish me physically more often. Slaps had been part of the game before, but now I was increasingly bending over for a spanking. It was — as she said — my “natural progression as a cuckold”.
Once she started to spank me, I would be going over her knees at least once a week as she would sit on a chair, or I would by lying face down on the bed, my buttocks bare and exposed. Vidya would spank me first with her hand, and then with a ruler. At first I could barely take five swats, but now, much to her satisfaction, I was up to twenty five. If I took them all without squirming, I was allowed to have sex with her as I wished.
Now it was to the point that she would spank me if I did anything to upset her, like ask her about her current lover(s), or forget to take the garbage out. From once a week, I could now expect a spanking any time now, and in fact I got spanked almost on a daily basis.
You might read these events and think Vidya was my female dominatrix and I was her slave. It could not be further from the truth. Yes, Vidya did like to slap me and spank me, BUT I liked being slapped by her and spanked by her, because that gave HER pleasure. And giving HER pleasure gave ME pleasure. And Vidya knew it.
I loved her. She loved me. She loved me strongly — of that I was now sure. No matter who had his cock buried in her, her true love would be me. Despite spanking me, slapping me and cuckolding me, Vidya did not lose her sense of love and respect for me. She would kiss me all the time, or snuggle up to me, or take care of my house impeccably, and always greet me lovingly.
Vidya also took care of me sexually. In this I was unlike the other cuckolded husbands I would read about. My wife knew that even though I was a cuckold, I also had needs. I was never, EVER, denied sex by her. Whenever I wanted. Even if she was sick or not feeling like it (which was rare!). Often she would initiate it.
She would ask me, suddenly, rubbing me, “My fat cuckold, do you need some relief?”
Often I would nod, or say “Yes, dear, if it’s not too much trouble.”
I mean, who would say no to Vidya!
She would laugh and always say, “For you, my love, never!”
She would then bend over, and present herself to me.
“Take me, lover.” She would grin. “Even though you are a cuckold, you are MY cuckold. So this is your chance, lover boy. Go for it!”
And then she would ask me what I wanted from her and would proceed to do that. So I, too, loved her, even if that love meant I had to share her, physically, with other men, and I was not privy to that information. I was OK with that. At least, that’s what I told myself.
This was the state of our relationship, and this last weekend was simply the cherry on top. We were isolated in the cabin, just the two of us, and we focused on just ourselves. I usually could not cum more than once a day, but Vidya made me cum several times. The only time we had clothes on were when we went out to eat, or when housekeeping called. By the time we left, the cabin reeked of sex. And unlike the other times with Vidya, this time it was sex with me. Her husband.
Now, back to the grind, and Monday morning. We were just finishing breakfast.
Suddenly the calm of our usual morning was broken by some loud noises. It seemed like a construction vehicle had just parked, and I could hear hammers, the starting of some electronic machines, and lots of shouting and hollering by men.
“Rajesh! Baby!” Vidya raised an eyebrow. “What a racket! I wonder if they are fixing that road.”
I didn’t have time to answer, because immediately there was a knock on the door.
“Rajesh, honey.” Vidya commanded, while rubbing butter on her toast. “Get the door, please.”
“Yes, dear.” I told Vidya, rising up. “I will get the door.”
It was Wasim.
I looked at the guard. He had a soft smirk on the corner of his lips, but stood there respectfully. The last time he had been here in my presence, he had to grovel and beg for forgiveness from me and Vidya. Then, of course, Ramu and then that gangbang happened. Now, he had a smirk. This smirk said that whenever I was away and Wasim was here, he was in my house banging my wife. Although he hadn’t seen Vidya for at least a week, if not more.
“Yes, what is it, Wasim?” I asked.
“Saheb.” He said respectfully. “I wanted to inform you that we have to fix the road that goes in front of your house. It will be very noisy for the next few weeks.”
“Hmm.” I was nonplussed. I would be at work, and Vidya could just put on some earplugs and listen to her music. “Why so many days, Wasim? It’s just some potholes.”
“Well, it’s not just some potholes, Saheb.” Wasim nonchalantly glanced a look at my wife before focusing back on me. “The Board has decided to resurface the roads in this community. So your lane will be the first one. It could be three … or four … or even five weeks.”
“I see.”
“We will try to be quiet.” Wasim said. “But for next month or so, there will be work. But I will take care of memsaab so that she is not bothered too much by the noise.”
Did he misspeak? He would “take care” of my wife? Was it my imagination or was there a slight grin as he said this last statement — that memsaab wouldn’t be too “bothered” with the noise? Was it because it would be because she was “busy” with something else? Or someone? How would he “take care” of her?
“Alright, Wasim. If it has to be done, it has to be done.”
I didn’t give much more thought to it. After Wasim left, I finished getting ready, kissed Vidya goodbye and headed out to work. I almost didn’t want to leave. Vidya looked so good, standing in the doorway in her sari, her hair falling to her hips, her pallu tucked away to one side, her navel glowing in the sunlight. I wanted to take her there and then. But the office was beckoning.
It was a busy morning, as I got caught up, and then attended a series of meetings. I was now promoted to lead project manager, after all. Sometimes (though not often) I would report directly to the owner of the company Mr. Hemant Sarun himself.
Just after lunch hour, I had some time to myself. Alone in my office cabin, I switched on the camera app on my laptop. I was watching my house live. There was no recording stored of the morning, which meant no one had rung the bell and no door in my house had been opened to let anyone in or out. My cameras recorded only when there was movement from any of the entrances to our house. Vidya must have remained at home, sleeping or watching TV. I looked through the cameras to see where she was now.
Vidya was in the kitchen. The screen blurred for a moment and then cleared as the kitchen camera focused on my wife. She was loading the dishwasher.
For some time I watched my wife. God! She was so sexy! I felt lucky to be married to this vixen! She wore a simple sari, but so elegantly did it cover her full, athletic and buxom figure. I was glad Vidya was one of those women who always wore a sari, even if she was alone. Sari was what made an Indian woman so sexy. So desi. I loved her thin sari wrapped itself around her svelte figure, giving prominence to the blouse that hid her gigantic melons, showing her bare, narrow, slender waist and tummy, and then accentuating her big, bubble butt. That ass quivered every time she moved in the kitchen, and for some time I just sat and watched my wife move around, not knowing that there were prying eyes taking in her every move.
I then heard a sudden sound. It was the doorbell! It seemed, by some strange and lucky coincidence, I had switched on to see my house just in time!
I switched the view to the front door. This was the living room camera and I could see the chain on the door rattling as someone knocked on it. In another window on the screen, in the kitchen, I could see that my wife was disturbed by the sound. Yet, something in her appearance, in her mannerisms, in her body language made me believe that she wasn’t surprised to hear the doorbell ring. It was almost as if she was expecting it. I followed her on the cameras through the house as she moved to the living room and opened the door.
It was Wasim. Of course it was Wasim! As soon as Vidya opened the door, Wasim pushed the door open and entered the house. My house.
“What’s the matter, memsaab?” He barked, leering at her. “For the whole of last two weeks you don’t open the door, even though we know you were home, or answer our texts? What’s going on, randi?”
Answer our texts. I should check Vidya’s phone!
I watched as my wife Vidya stood there, looking crossly at the burly guard.
“I told you last time we can’t see each other like this anymore.” She said, her arms folded emphatically over her ample chest.
“Memsaab. Memsaab.” Wasim pushed his way into the house and equally forcefully closed the door as Vidya backed away slightly. “It’s cute, when you say no, but how many times I have told you not to irritate me, Vidya? When your husband’s away, you are my little bitch.”
“You seem to have gotten a lot more obnoxious lately.” Vidya said defiantly. “People can see you come here, you know. I have an image in this society. I told you guys to be discreet, but you guys all come in at once all the time. Especially you.”
“Ah, your image.” Almost nonchalantly, Wasim reached out and cupped Vidya’s breasts with his hands. “Your oh so respectful image, hai na, memsaab? You still think people believe you are a respectable housewife, faithful to her husband, while I am here, playing with your tuttay.”
Vidya stood there, not moving, as Wasim continued to paw and squeeze her tits, feeling her up through her blouse. She said nothing as he took a boob between his forefinger and thumb, tweaked up and pinched the nipple.
“Ouch!” Vidya made a disgusted expression and brushed his hands away. “You guys have no finesse! Standing there and trying to milk me as if I am a cow!”
Wasim laughed.
“Isn’t that what you like, memsaab? You are a cow. Nay, as I said, you are a bitch. My bitch.”
“Go away, Wasim.” Vidya said. “I have lot of work today. I can’t be bothered with you guys now.”
“Ouch.” Wasim said, putting his hand on his heart, feigning an injury, “Memsaab. You insult me. Your attitude! Your sharp tongue! Oh, randi! You break my heart!”
“Wasim! I have no time …”
Whatever Vidya was saying she never finished. Suddenly Wasim moved to her, and in a flash had her in a tight bear hug, his lips on my wife’s.
Vidya struggled, but wife was no match for this man with the strength of a bear. I watched, awestruck as the guard continued to kiss my wife. Sirens of panic were going off in my head. This was not the usual affairs of Vidya. He was forcing himself on her. This was rape. I should do something. Maybe I should call home. The ringing of the phone might jar Wasim away.
I reached for my cellphone and was about dial my home number when I saw the scene on the screen change. My wife had stopped struggling and now had her hands around his back. She was no longer being forced into the kiss, but was a willing, even enthusiastic participant. I watched, undeniably turned on, as the kiss continued.
Vidya finally broke the kiss and pushed him away. This time, he let go of her. For a moment no one spoke.
“You should go, Wasim.” Vidya finally said, trying to smoothen her hair. “Please.”
“It’s really hot, memsaab.” Wasim replied, exaggerating the ‘memsaab’ part. “Can I please get a glass of water, Vidya?”
The lecherous grin he directed at my wife while calling her by name wasn’t missed by her — or me.
“OK, sure. Just water.” Vidya looked at him with a steely look, and then shrugged. “Come to the kitchen.”
Wasim followed her into the kitchen Vidya gave him a glass of water, which Wasim drank in one gulp, and then handed the glass back to my wife. As Vidya turned to place the glass into the sink, Wasim raised his hand, and smacked my wife square on her bum.
WHACK!
The glass fell from her hands into the sink. Luckily it didn’t break.
WHACK!
Vidya remained standing there, her back to him, while he continued to spank her buttocks.
WHACK!
“I haven’t fucked you for twelve days, memsaab.” Wasim said. “I missed this big buttock of yours. Such a nice, spankable buttock.”
WHACK!
“Please.” Vidya murmured. “Wasim. I told you that it’s over.”
Wasim stopped playing with her bum. Instead he grabbed my wife by her hips and made her turn around to face him.
“Don’t play coy with me, memsaab. It is not over until I say it is over, bitch.” His voice was now raised. He was angry. “You should know, this is not Mumbai or Delhi. This is a small suburb of Pune. This is a small gated community. Everyone knows everyone, and everyone knows everything. Especially about you.”
I felt the hair stand on my arms. I am sure Vidya felt similarly alarmed, yet she managed to sound surprisingly defiant. What did he mean “especially about you”?
“Yeah, so?” I heard her say. “What do you mean?”
Wasim sighed. Then I saw the big guard raise his hand.
SLAP!
He struck Vidya on her left cheek, hard. I saw a bright red mark spread on her milky white cheek. And then he raise his hand again and swung the other way, slapping my wife again.
SLAP!
“Do you like it memsaab? A high class gori memsaab like you being slapped like a fifty rupee whore, and by a low class worker like me? Do you like it, Vidya?”
Vidya said nothing, but glared at him defiantly, even as her cheeks must have stung. Wasim grinned.
SLAP!
“Vidya, have you wondered why no one has told your husband yet about all of your little affairs?”
SLAP!
I saw my wife gasp, but she did not say anything.
SLAP!
“All those videos on the cellphone we took. Of you sucking our dicks. Of you on all fours, taking it in your gaand. Of you being passed around, from dick to dick.”
SLAP!
“Those videos must be all over WhatsApp now, Vidya, but no one has sent anything to people we don’t know. And certainly no one has told your husband anything. Why do you think that is, memsaab?”
SLAP!
“We can upload all those videos on the internet, but so far we haven’t done so. Do you know why, memsaab?”
SLAP!
Vidya still did not say anything, but continued to glare at him. Her cheeks were now bright red, and must have been burning. Wasim sighed and started to head back to the living room.
“Be a good girl and come with me.” He ordered. “Before I have to slap you again, Vidya.”
For a moment it seemed as if my wife would disobey him and bolt for it, but she then meekly walked behind him to the living room. She followed him like a meek little slave who had just been punished for her insolence. Her cheeks, as I said, were now flushing red. Whether that was the sting from the guard’s slaps, or the embarrassment at having been slapped by him, I don’t know.
Wasim was now seated on one of the sofas.
“Sit here, memsaab!” He ordered, slapping his left thigh.
I could see Vidya cringe, but she obeyed him, placing her big posterior on his thick thigh, like a little girl sitting on Santa’s lap. Immediately his hands went around her waist.
“I love the way you wear your sari.” He said, running his hand over her bare navel. “Leaving your slender waist and tummy exposed, like a proper Indian rakhel.”
Vidya sat there on his lap as he grabbed at her tits and groped her. He then put one hand behind her head and pulled my wife’s face close to his. I thought he was going to kiss her. But instead Wasim started licking her tender cheek with his thick raspy tongue. He then lowered his lips and bit Vidya’s exposed neck.
“Ouch!” Vidya cried out, but otherwise remaining still. Her cheeks were still red.
“Don’t worry, memsaab.” Wasim grinned. “I won’t leave a mark. The redness of your rosy cheeks will go away soon. Your husband will be just as clueless as he is as long as you play nice. THIS is why no one tells your husband, Vidya. It is because in the end you let us have our way with your body. As long as your choot remains open, our mouths remain closed.”
They kissed for a while. I could see that Vidya, visibly stiff at the start, was now slowly relaxing. As they kissed, his hands continued to pay homage to her breasts. Soon he had her blouse open, and his hands went inside her bra. He was now directly playing with her udders. I saw him grab one tit and pull it out of the bra, before repeating the action with the other. As they continued to kiss, Wasim was pinching and kneading her nipples, and softly massaging each boob. By the time he withdrew his lips from hers, my wife looked a little flustered. She did not want to, but this type of rough treatment was arousing her, and she was now fully turned on, despite her reservations. She tried to adjust herself as she slipped down on the thigh. I could see a bulge in Wasim’s jeans.
“So you like having your boobs hanging out like that, eh?” Wasim grinned. Vidya could not reply, but I saw her blush and look down. She was embarrassed that Wasim had caught that little detail. Wasim had forced his way into her house, kissed her, slapped and punished her, and Vidya was feeling horny because her boobs were out. She was flustered.
I saw Wasim pat her on the ass, signaling that it was time for her to get up.
“Wasim,” My wife pleaded, still remaining seated on his lap. “Can we not do it today? I was having my period these last few days and I am still a bit sore.”
“You are lying, memsaab.” Wasim replied, nonchalantly reaching up and playing with one of her boobs. “I know you went to that luxurious resort with your husband on the weekend for your anniversary. You wouldn’t do that if you were having your period.”
Vidya gasped. I guess she didn’t realize there wasn’t much that Wasim didn’t know about the going on in this community. Vidya must have spilled that news of our little escapade to someone, and that someone to someone else, and Wasim learned of it as it spread.
“You just lied to me, memsaab.” Wasim once again patted her on the ass. “Please stand up.”
Once my wife stood up, Wasim stood next to her and started to completely unbutton her blouse. It was soon on the floor, along with her bra. Wasim grabbed the pallu of her sari and soon even that was on the floor in another pile. Wasim grabbed at the drawstring that held Vidya’s petticoat together, and tugged. The petticoat fell to the floor at her ankles. My wife stood there, topless, wearing only a small panty, and the mangalsutra necklace. I saw her shiver slightly.
I guess I should have been more sympathetic to her, as she was now subject to the whims of this brute, but I was eager to see what would happen, and slightly angry at her for keeping this a secret, so I didn’t feel too sorry.
“Let’s go by the kitchen window.” Wasim said. “You can look outside at the scenery while I fuck your gaand, memsaab.”
“Please.” Vidya begged. “If you have to, please fuck me here, Wasim. Or in the bedroom. Someone can see me by the kitchen window.”
“You lied to me, memsaab.” Wasim said again, this time a little angrily. “I am going to punish you for it. Now if you don’t want me to leave marks on your face, I suggest you listen to me.”
Vidya sighed and turned around to head for the kitchen. Wasim followed her closely behind. Once they were in the kitchen, Vidya turned to Wasim.
“Please, Wasim. I am sorry for lying to you.” She implored again. “Please don’t fuck me in the kitchen. Someone can see me. Please do it back in the living room. Or why don’t we go to the bedroom? We will be more comfortable on the bed.”
“No! Look saali… wait, take this!” Wasim went back quickly to the living room, picked up her bra, returned to the kitchen and now handed it to her, as if he was doing her a huge favour. “Put this on. It will cover your big tits partly. Now turn around.”
Vidya helplessly stood by the kitchen window and leaned on the ledge with her elbows. I couldn’t see what she was seeing from the window, the camera didn’t cover that angle, but I could see her protest.
“Wasim, I can see the street!” She pleaded. “I can see the men are working on that side street!”
“Just don’t scream too loudly then.” Wasim answered with a laugh. Then they won’t look here!”
“Wasim, please. If they just look up, they can see us!”
“Don’t worry.” Wasim replied nonchalantly. “Those are my men. They will never disclose your secret to anyone. Don’t worry.”
Suddenly I saw my wife open her mouth and inhale sharply as she felt Wasim’s fingers dig into the waistband of her panty.
“Please, Wasim.” She begged one last time, as she felt the panties being gradually lowered to around her knees. “Anyone can walk by and if they look up, they will see me.”
“You have such a nice, big, gorgeous ass, memsaab.” Wasim commented, ignoring her completely.
It was a highly erotic scene. Wasim pushed my nude wife (save for the bra and the necklace) from behind, so her elbows were on the ledge and she was bent over. He unbuckled his belt and let his pants drop, and then lowered his underwear, springing out his monstrous cock, which was by this time hard and eagerly waiting to mount my wife. And I guess from my wife’s comments, there were construction men working on the street just outside the kitchen. The kitchen was a bit up, so those men wouldn’t immediately see Vidya’s face as she was fucked from behind. But if they looked up, they might see an Indian housewife, wearing next to nothing, standing and peering at them from the window sill.
Would those men think that Vidya was a housewife from a good family, or did they know about the sordid activities of this “memsaab”? Would they guess that not only was she just wearing a bra, but that was the only thing she was wearing, and she was naked otherwise? Would they guess from the expression on her face when Wasim would rub the thick sticky head of his dick against her ass cheek that there was someone else behind her?
As a prelude to fucking her, Wasim ran his fingers down her butt hole. Vidya moaned and closed her eyes as she felt his fingers run down her ass crack and reach her pussy.
“My dear memsaab.” Wasim laughed. “You are so wet already! Didn’t your husband fuck you enough while you went away with him?”
Vidya said nothing as Wasim continued to finger her. I had noticed that Wasim always liked to taunt me whenever he was fucking my wife. As if my wife submitting to him was not enough!
Vidya was truly a wanton slut. Here she was, being degraded and humiliated by this man, and yet she was getting aroused at what Wasim was doing to her. By now the guard had slipped two fingers inside her now wet cunt and started gradually finger-fucking her. Slowly, surely, Vidya began to lose her inhibitions and her moans became louder.
“Oh, Wasim. Oh, Wasim!”
Suddenly Wasim stopped fingering her. He withdrew his hand and then raised it. Before Vidya could fathom what was going on, that hand came down sharply on her left butt cheek.
SPANK!
“Ow!” Vidya cried out softly, but otherwise made no further sound.
SPANK!
A small red mark appeared on her butt cheek. Vidya grunted with each spank but said nothing.
SPANK!
Vidya still said nothing. She was a proud woman. She also knew better than to anger Wasim further.
SPANK!
Vidya bore the beating quietly. She also did not want to draw any attention from the men below.
SPANK!
“OWWW. That hurts, Wasim.” Finally Vidya was unable to remain silent. Her ass was now becoming bright red.
SPANK!
“Don’t lie to me again, memsaab.” Wasim grunted, continuing to spank her. “Next time, it will be more severe.”
SPANK!
“I am very sorry, Wasim.” Vidya’s pride was now gone and she was apologizing profusely. “I won’t do it again. I swear, Wasim!”
SPANK!
“Please forgive me, Wasim. I am sorry, Wasim. I won’t do it again, Wasim.”
SPANK!
“Good. Good.” Wasim tenderly rubbed the red butt cheek. “Now say you are my bitch.”
SPANK!
“I am your bitch, Wasim. You know that. I am your randi. Your rakhel. Your mistress.”
“Good girl!” Wasim seemed pleased. “Now spread your legs, and keep your butt up. I am going to fuck your gaand. Not your cunt, memsaab, but your gaand, as punishment.”
“Yes, Wasim. I understand, Wasim. Please be gentle with me. Your lund — your cock — is so huge!”
Wasim spit on his hands and rubbed his dick a couple of times. That was the only lubrication he afforded my wife. Before she knew what was going on, he placed his dick in the crack of her ass and pushed.
“AAAAAAAHHHH!” Vidya cried out, as she felt Wasim’s giant cock bury into her. “Slowly, Wasim. Slowly! OOOOOOH!”
Wasim was in no mood to take it slow and steady. Pretty soon he had his pecker buried deep in my wife. Almost instantly, he started pounding her ass hard, grabbing her waist. With each thrust, Vidya’s moans became louder and louder. The pace was so rapid, her boobs slapped hard against the granite window sill that she was bent over.
“Like it?” Wasim asked moving one hand to her shoulder and making her straighten a little.
“UGGGHGG! AAAAAAH!” Vidya could only moan as Wasim continued to pound her.
“Good! We are going to have a lot of fun, memsaab.”
He didn’t last long. I saw his butt clench, and his face contort, and soon he began pumping his semen into my wife’s ass. When he finally withdrew his cock from her buttocks, there was an audible plop sound.
Vidya was a mess. She was lying bent over the kitchen sill. Her bra had come loose and fallen to the floor. Thick wads of cum ran down her butt and thighs, along with her own juices. Wasim patted her bright red buttocks. He pinched her sharply where he had just spanked her, making her yelp.
“I will be back tomorrow, memsaab. Same time.” He told her. “Make sure you wear something nice. Like that yellow sari that Raveena Tandon wears in the movie Mohra.”
That had been Monday.
I realized that the Board had chosen a couple of the guards, Wasim and Feroz, to supervise the construction project, along with the project foreman Waqar. This meant Wasim and Feroz, rather than having day or night shifts, were now here during the day, and I was away at work. True, they were supervising the construction, but they had an hour off at lunch every day at 1 pm. For the next three days, Wasim would punctually knock on the door at 1 pm every day, and spend an hour in my house, enjoying the charms of my wife Vidya.
On Friday I had a late afternoon meeting off site, so I returned to my office at 3 pm and closed the door to my cabin. Seating myself comfortably, I switched on my laptop and started the camera app. As the screen cleared, buffered and then zoomed out, I realized this was the bedroom camera.
I immediately recognized my wife’s pussy as the camera app cleared. Massive amounts of cum was oozing out of her cunt. The scene became clear as the buffering stopped. Vidya was lying on our bed seemingly exhausted. Her legs were open wide. I heard a voice speak to her.
“Thank you, memsaab. It was very good.”
It was Feroz — the other guard. Wasim would never thank her after a fuck.
“You … you are welcome.” Vidya replied groggily. “I … I liked it too.”
It was clear that she had more than liked it. Her body was still in some sort of spasm. It was evident that Feroz had fucked her and fucked her well. I could see now that Feroz was naked from the waist down. His cock was now limp, but still had some cum on it. I realized that none of these guys used any protection. They would just fuck Vidya bareback.
I hoped, for our sake, that these men didn’t have sex with any other hookers like that. It must be thrilling for them, I realized, to have access to a high class memsaab from high society like Vidya. Bonus that she was such a stunning beauty with nice figure, big tits, a juicy cunt and a nice ass. And a slut.
Where was Wasim though? I realized the two men must have some understanding. While Wasim had Vidya most of the time, at other times he had to let Feroz also visit her from time to time. And it seemed that Vidya enjoyed Feroz’s gentle love making as much as Wasim’s domination of her.
Suddenly the door to the bedroom opened and then slammed shut, making Vidya abruptly sit up.
“We were waiting for you,” Vidya said respectfully to the new person.
“You won’t be disappointed, bitch,” Wasim’s powerful voice thundered in the video. “I see that you have enjoyed yourself. Go take a shower. I don’t want sloppy seconds.”
“Yes, Wasim.”
Obediently Vidya got up and left.
“You had a good time?” Wasim asked Feroz.
“Yes, Wasim bhai. Kya tadka maal hai!”
Wasim laughed.
“And she thought she could get rid of us this easily!” He roared. “I have plans for this bitch. I am going to use her with Sachin bhai.”
My skin froze. Wasim was taking the name of a known gangster. He had connections with the mobster known as Sachin!
“Be careful, Wasim bhai.” Feroz told him. “Memsaab knows some people too. Especially of this Board in this community. She can have you fired immediately.”
Feroz was referring to Balachandra, of course. Wasim didn’t seem too worried.
“She won’t do it.” Wasim shrugged. “She enjoys being a slut too much.”
“You should be a bit more careful with her, Wasim bhai.” Feroz said. “Don’t slap her too much. Or beat her. She may turn on us then.”
“Nah.” Wasim shrugged again. “She is a slut. She wants it.”
Vidya had just returned. It had been a quick shower, and she was drying herself with a towel, but otherwise she was naked. Wasim ordered her to sit on the bed after she was done. Feroz and Wasim talked softly for a while and then Feroz left. It was clear that it was now Wasim’s turn to enjoy Vidya. He sat beside her on the bed as Vidya leaned her back on a pillow.
“Vidya, how long have you been married?” He suddenly asked her.
“Um … five years.” She replied.
“And were you always unfaithful to your husband?” Wasim asked.
“Er … no.” Vidya replied, and then lied. “Only with Ramu. And then … you know … with you … all.”
Wasim gently reached out and started to knead one of her breasts. He had the nipple between the forefinger and the thumb and made circular motions as Vidya’s breathing got hard. Then he questioned her again.
“Why do you cheat on your husband, randi?” He asked her. “He seems like a nice guy. Polite, good natured. Even though the bastard complained about me once.”
“I … I don’t know… OH WASIM!” My wife was moaning as Wasim fondled her boobs. “I … I don’t know why I cheat on him.”
“You are a slut.” Wasim declared. “Now turn around. On your face. I want to take you from behind.”
For the next ten minutes I watched a familiar scene. Vidya’s initially docile body, lying face down, legs spread apart. Then Wasim lying on top of her and his engorged penis expertly sliding into her welcoming cunt. The muffled groans of ecstasy from my wife as he started to slid in and out of her. The two bodies rhythmically moving like a well-oiled sex machine.
It was a hot and perverted scene — my wife getting banged by yet another man, a low class man, on our marital bed. After sometime Vidya turned around so she was on her back, and Wasim on top of her. Her legs were locked around his waist as he was banging her in slow deep strokes. She had one hand on the back of his head. And her other hand was covering her mouth so she didn’t make a noise loud enough for the construction men to hear. She seemed to really enjoy getting fucked by him. I could see that she was thrusting back against his thrusts. Occasionally she would kiss him, run her fingers through his hair, feeling his back and chest. I could see Wasim’s naked ass flexing and loosening as he pounded her cunt. And her toes kept curling and uncurling in pleasure. Finally the guard’s ass flexed one last time and for several seconds – he was pumping his seed into her unprotected womb. Again.
I turned the camera off. I had seen what I had wanted to see. I also wanted to decide if I was going to tell Vidya that I knew about this all. She had to know about Wasim’s plans for Sachin. But in the end, I decided I wasn’t going to tell her. At least, not yet. I wanted to see where this was going.
The weekend was relaxing. I guess Vidya was relieved she didn’t have to perform any sexual duties for the guards, but I was a little bit edgy. I wanted sex, but I didn’t want to ask, and Vidya didn’t initiate on her own. So I had to be content with jerking myself off.
By now, I was sure that the construction workers knew something was up. I would see them when I would head to work, or sometimes when I would return, and they would look at me with a funny gaze. Some of them smirked. Others would nod and wink, even as they avoided looking directly at me. There was a bit of whispering once I was past them. They must know what their supervisors were doing during the break.
The second week was pretty much like the first. Wasim visited Monday and Tuesday, Feroz on Wednesday, and Wasim again on Thursday. Which is today. I had just finished seeing Wasim hump Vidya against the wall. So tomorrow being a Friday, it was likely to be Feroz’s turn.
Now you are all caught up.
The next day (Friday) I had an unfortunate number of problems at work in production and thus had to spend long time in meetings to smoothen it out. By the time I was done, it was 1.30 pm. A notification on my laptop had told me that the camera app had started recording. I went back to my office, closed the room’s door and sat myself in. I opened the app and started to watch live.
I was watching the living room. There were three voices in the screen.
Feroz.
Wasim
Vidya.
As the buffering stopped and it became clear, I could see that Vidya was in the centre of the room, fully dressed in a black sari, and Feroz and Wasim, also fully dressed, were standing on either side of her.
Wasim turned to Feroz. I could see he was angry. Uh oh.
“Did I not tell the bitch about the yellow sari?” He thundered at his fellow guard.
Feroz, ever eager to be on the right side of Wasim, nodded.
“You did, Wasim bhai. You told the bitch to get a yellow sari yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that.”
Vidya could do nothing but just glare at Feroz. Despite the nice way he treated her, and she him, in the presence of Wasim, Feroz was not her ally. In her presence only he always referred to her respectfully as memsaab even as he fucked her. In Wasim’s presence she was the “bitch”.
“I think Vidya memsaab sometimes forgets her position in this arrangement.” Wasim remarked. “She is a high class memsaab and malkin of this house, and we are the guards, yes, but first and foremost, she has to keep us happy. Isn’t that right, Feroz?”
“Yes, Wasim bhai.” Feroz replied. “I think we should make that clear to her.”
“Okay, memsaab!” Wasim turned to Vidya and barked. “Come over here and kneel!”
My wife reluctantly walked over to where he was standing, and knelt down in front of him, facing the guard.
“Wasim …” My wife pleaded. “I am so sorry.”
Wasim gently patted her on her right cheek. Vidya trembled slightly at the touch. She knew he was about to slap her, and slap her hard.
“I told you, memsaab,” He grunted, “I want you to wear a yellow saree today. Yet you are wearing some other colour.”
“I … I don’t have a yellow saree, Wasim.” My wife tried in vain to reason with him. “I told you this before.”
“Then you should have gone and purchased one, memsaab.”
“I wanted to!” Vidya was earnest. “But I honestly had no time and-”
SLAP!
Wasim bent forward slightly and gave her a tight slap across her face which nearly sent her to the ground. And then he raised his hand again. Even Feroz flinched at the suddenness of the slap, and turned away, not looking.
SLAP!
Vidya’s eyes moistened as she fought back her tears. She wasn’t going to give Wasim the satisfaction of seeing her cry, even as the marks of his fingers appeared on her rosy cheeks.
SLAP!
Vidya had mentioned she wanted to go shopping the last couple of days, but I had put it off, saying I was tired from work and made some excuse. I now felt somewhat bad about not taking her shopping the evening before, but I told myself that this is why. I wanted Wasim to punish her. He could do to her what I would never be able to do. Plus this served her right for keeping this a secret.
SLAP!
“Stand up, memsaab.” Wasim ordered.
Meekly Vidya complied, staring at him in a sullen fashion. Then, as Feroz stood beside Wasim, Vidya cast her gaze down. She seemed embarrassed at being slapped by Wasim in front of Feroz.
Even Feroz appeared fidgety, but he would go along with whatever Wasim would do.
“Feroz.” Wasim ordered. “Strip the bitch. Leave only the panties on.”
“Yes, Wasim bhai.”
“After all, our memsaab has to have some izzat — some respect.” He sniggered at his own joke. “Even though hum wo izzat lootne walai hain!”
Feroz stood up and walked right up to her and placed his hand on her. He grabbed the pallu of the saree and started to strip her. I watched as this lower class guard stripped my wife nearly naked, until she stood in front of both men dressed in only a thin black panty. He big breasts were perky and her nipples erect — even though she didn’t want it, this humiliation was turning her on! As Feroz went back to stand beside Wasim, Vidya stared back at them in a defiant fashion.
“Look how proud and cocky she is.” Wasim commented to Feroz. “Despite being just slapped by me. This is a result of her upbringing. She thinks she is better than us. We have to show her, don’t we, Feroz?”
“Yes, Wasim bhai.”
Wasim turned back to my wife.
“Get down on the floor.” He ordered. “On all fours. Like a bitch. Wave your big butt in the air.”
Vidya gave him a dirty look, before Wasim’s raised hand and the threat of another slap caused her to rush to comply. She got down on the floor, on all fours, on her haunches, with her head down and her buttocks protruding in the air. I could see that the thin panty was disappearing between her the globules of her large buttocks. Even in such a debasing position, she still had an arrogant look on her face. I was proud of her.
“It is time, memsaab,” Wasim stood next to his prize — my wife — and told her rather ominously, “It is time, memsaab, that you learnt that women in India are no different from cattle. Your husband has given you a lot of leeway and you think you are equal to us men.”
“That’s a rather chauvinistic view.” Vidya murmured, even while staying in her humiliating position. “This is India and here we are the same.”
Wasim laughed, and then reached down and patted her on her derriere.
“Memsaab. You are nothing more to me than a cow or a dog I can purchase from the village fair.”
I could see that slowly Wasim was unbuckling his belt and pulling it out of his jeans.
“Tell me one thing, memsaab, let’s say you have a cow. And this cow is not following orders. What do you do?”
“Er …” Vidya, who has never dealt with any farm animal in her life, was clueless. “I don’t know. I guess you have to train it?”
“And how do you think the villagers train their cows?” Wasim laughed again. “It’s not a circus animal. It just has to know where to come and where to go when grazing.”
“I don’t know, Wasim. I guess you have try and guide them.”
Wasim had unbuckled his belt completely by now. He folded it in double in his hand and made it into a strap.
“What you do, memsaab, is that you take a stick, and give the cow a few swats. Each time it disobeys, you beat it, until it learns to obey you.”
Vidya gulped as Wasim slowly lowered the belt strap and rested it on her butt. The he reached down, and pulled her panty down, from over her butt, until it was there at her knees. My wife was now on the floor, butt naked, on all fours, waiting to be punished by our lowly guard. And I had knowingly helped put her in this situation.
WHIP!
There was a thunderous crack as the belt came down on Vidya’s big buttocks.
“Oww! Oww!” Vidya cried out as no doubt a stinging pain spread through her rear end. She did not move or change her position otherwise though.
WHIP!
“Oww!” A bright red mark appeared on her ass. This was something new for Vidya. She had been spanked or caned before, but never beaten with a belt.
WHIP!
“Oww! Wasim, I am so sorry, please forgive me.”
“I have told you, Vidya, I will not stand for your insolence!”
WHIP!
“Oww! Wasim, it hurts. Please stop.”
Even Feroz seem perturbed, and turned to Wasim.
“Bhai, maybe she has learned her lesson.”
“Yes! Yes!” Vidya implored, while remaining in her position. “I am sorry, Wasim.”
WHIP!
“You need to understand who is the man here, and who is the randi.”
WHIP!
“Oww! Wasim, I swear I will buy a yellow sari tonight. Please stop.”
“From tomorrow, if I don’t see you in a yellow sari, I will strip you naked and parade you in front of all the construction labourers.”
WHIP!
WHIP!
Wasim continued to whip her until her whole buttocks was covered with red lash marks. Feroz didn’t intervene, and Vidya was crying now, tears flowing unabashed, her loud cries reduced to a whimper as Wasim continued to punish her. He finally stopped after what must have been the fifteenth lashing.
“Get up, memsaab.” He ordered.
Vidya groggily tried to stand up. She nearly stumbled and fell as her panties were at her ankles. My wife stepped out of her panties and stood stark naked, facing the guards while rubbing her crimson red buttocks. I could see the lash marks fresh on her ass.
“What do you say, memsaab?” Wasim taunted her, putting his belt back on his trousers. Vidya looked at the men, while rubbing her sore bottom.
“I am sorry, Wasim.” She then looked at Feroz. “I am sorry, Feroz. I am your rakhel. Your bitch. I am not equal to you. I should know my place.”
“Memsaab.” Wasim continued to order her about. “Feroz will have to leave now, since we can’t both be away for long. Please walk him to the door.”
“Yes, Wasim.” Vidya nodded, and then with what seemed to be extra deference, asked, “Can I put on my clothes now, Wasim?”
“No.” Wasim shook his head. “Walk with him like this. Naked.”
Vidya didn’t get the chance to say much more as Feroz walked up to her and slid his arm around her waist. He then turned her around to face him, taking care not to touch her smarting ass, and they kissed.
It was more of a lover’s passionate kiss rather than the kiss of two having an affair. Vidya wrapped her arms around Feroz’s back, titling her head to match his lips, and her eyes were closed as Feroz probed deep inside her mouth with his tongue. Even I felt a pang of jealousy watching the two kiss. I couldn’t tell if Vidya was kissing Feroz so passionately just to send Wasim a message, but she seemed genuinely into the kiss.
The two eventually came up for air and Vidya walked Feroz to the door. Vidya, naked, stayed a bit behind as Feroz opened the door. They all got a surprise as the door opened. There were two men outside — two construction labourers!
“Saabji, we were looking for you.” One of them told Feroz, barely hiding a snicker. “We knew you would be here at this house.”
“So why did you come up to the house?” Feroz yelled. He was the boss of this men and he wasn’t going to let his good nature with Vidya hold him back. “Get back to work!”
“Yes, saabji.” One of the men shot a desperate look inside the house, hoping to catch sight of Vidya, but she was now hidden behind the door. Feroz turned around and exited, slamming the door shut as he did so.
My doubts were now confirmed. This is why those labourers had shot me knowing looks and snickered as I had walked by. They knew, of course, what was going on. The two guards who were here to supervise them were having an affair with one of the society’s ladies when her husband was away — and they knew exactly which lady it was. My wife! And now two of them may have caught a glimpse of a naked Vidya, which would just confirm the stories.
Vidya shut and latched door, before walking back to the living room. Wasim had plonked himself on the couch.
“Those labourers seemed to know everything.” She complained.
Wasim shot her a nonchalant look.
“Don’t worry about them.” He said. “They are poor day labourers from Assam. They won’t bother you and they will leave after the project is done.”
“They are hanging around the house all the time.” Vidya said. “In this heat I can’t even have the downstairs windows fully open or the veranda doors open.”
“Why?” Wasim looked at her and guffawed. “Do you walk around the house naked all the time?”
Given that Vidya was now walking around the house completely naked, Wasim laughed heartily at his own joke.
“Wasim.” Vidya pleaded. “I know in your group you always talk about me and share my pictures and videos. All the guards know and none of them treat me with respect any more. They all look at me as if I am a common street whore. But in my social class I still have izzat — respect and honour. Please don’t take that away from me.”
“Come here.” Wasim commanded.
Embarrassed at her request being so bluntly dismissed, Vidya walked up to stand beside the guard. Wasim patted and kneaded her rump. Vidya cried out a bit as Wasim touched her on the area where she had just been lashed, but otherwise stayed silent as Wasim continued grope her. I could see Vidya’s nipples becoming erect again. It was clear that this humiliating situation always managed to trigger something of the submissive inside her.
“My bitch.” Wasim finally let go of her ass. “Go get me a cup of tea.”
“Yes, Wasim.” My wife expecting much worse, was eager to comply.
She went to the kitchen and in ten minutes had a cup of masala chai ready for him. He was seated on my favourite seat, and had turned the TV on and was flipping the channels as if he owned the house. Vidya handed him the cup of tea, bending as she did so. He looked at my wife’s exposed cleavage and smiled.
“What are you, some savage from Central Africa? You certainly look like that, naked and all.” Once again he guffawed at his own joke, before continuing. “Don’t you have any biscuits or snacks to serve with the tea?”
“I am sorry, Wasim. I will see what I have.”
Vidya returned in a few minutes with some biscuits on a small plate.
As she came out, I saw on the camera that Wasim’s fly was open and his semi-erect dick was poking out.
“Good. Now get on the floor between my legs and start sucking as I have my tea. Leave your mangalsutra on.”
“Yes, Wasim.”
Obediently, my naked wife got on her knees between his legs. I could see her cringe as she opened her mouth and lowered it on his cock. The action was not lost on Wasim.
“You like Feroz more than me, don’t you, randi?” He asked her, as her head bobbed on his dick.
My wife took the cock out of her mouth to answer.
“He is gentler with me than you are, Wasim. He is not cruel with me.”
Wasim laughed.
“And yet, memsaab, I fuck you three or four times a week and he only gets one day with you. What does being gentle get you? Nothing!”
Wasim continued to eat the snacks and have his tea as my wife sucked him. Then he spoke again.
“Sometimes I think I fuck you more than your husband. How often do you have sex, memsaab?”
“We do it once or twice a week.” Vidya answered, after a pause.
“So I do fuck you more than him!” Wasim grinned. “I knew that chutiya wasn’t a proper man! OK, back to my cock, bitch.”
Wasim kept flipping through the many channels at a rapid pace leaning back on the couch as my wife sucked his dick. Vidya was an expert cocksucker, but since Wasim was having his tea, it took a little time before his penis started coming to life, but it eventually stood at full attention.
I noticed that Vidya’s eyes were shut as she sucked his cock. Why was that? Usually she would stare at you and smile as she did so — an incredible turn on. Here it seemed like she just wanted Wasim to get hard quickly and that was it. Wasim too noticed her eyes were shut.
“Hey, memsaab, open your eyes.” He gently tapped my wife on her cheek. “You usually look up at me while you suck my dick.”
My wife ignored him. I guess she was still a bit annoyed and embarrassed at how he had lashed her ass in front of Feroz. She just ignored his command and continued to suck on his cock, which did not please Wasim. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her mouth off his cock, which forced her to open her eyes.
“You aren’t listening to me.” He looked at her.
“Well, I AM sucking you off am I not?” Vidya defiantly replied. “I will still suck you off better than any of the fifty rupee whores you guys go to.”
Wasim looked at her for a minute, as if deciding on how to deal with her sudden insolence. He then snapped his fingers.
“Get up.”
Vidya stood up, somewhat reluctantly. I think she was already regretting this little act of defiance. I was sure she was thinking if she should apologize to him, but Wasim gave her no chance. He stood up and roughly pushed her face down on the couch.
“Get on the couch. Facing away. Put your hands on the cushion.”
I was guessing he was going to fuck her in the butt again. That was one of his favourite ways to “punish” Vidya. Vidya was not a big fan of anal sex, in particular with Wasim and his huge cock.
Vidya did what she was asked to do. She was now bent over on the sofa, buttocks out waving in the air, her hands on the cushion, bracing herself. I saw Wasim unbuckle his belt. But then once again he took his belt out. Instead of his pants falling down, as I expected, once again he had the belt in his hand, doubled over to make the strap.
WHIP!
“OWWWWWWW!!” Vidya screamed in pain as she felt the belt lash across her buttocks.
“You bitch, you think you can be insolent with me?” Wasim hissed at her, raising his hand again.
WHIP!
WHIP!
My wife was naked, except for her mangalsutra, bent over the couch, her round stinging ass fully presented to Wasim for her punishment. They were far too away from any of the windows, so none of the construction workers could see how this prim and proper wife was bent over and getting whipped with a belt, but surely they could hear her cries and the sound of the lashing?
WHIP!
“You are such a slut and a whore.”
WHIP!
“A skank like you daring to talk back at me?”
WHIP!
“BITCH! Saali randi!”
WHIP!
Tears streamed out of Vidya’s eyes as she was now apologizing profusely and humiliatingly. Finally Wasim seemed to calm down a little.
“Had enough, memsaab?” He asked, turning my wife’s head to face him.
Vidya looked into his eyes with tears in and nodded.
“I am sorry, Wasim. I am very sorry.”
“Will you argue with me again?”
Vidya shook her head.
“Do you realize who is in charge here?”
My wife nodded.
“Yes, Wasim. I am sorry, Wasim.”
“Hmmm.”
Wasim then proceeded to fuck her in the cunt.
He pushed Vidya so she fell on the couch face down. Wasim then lifted her legs and spread it apart a little, then he put his knees on the couch right below her ass and entered my wife in one swift motion. He was fucking her doggy style.
“Hmm. You cunt is sloppy and wet.” Wasim announced, as he pounded her. “This ass whopping as actually turned you on.”
Embarrassed, Vidya said nothing but continued to moan as Wasim humped her. He then withdrew his cock and made Vidya lied down on the coach, on her back. This time he climbed on top of her, facing her, and entered her again. He was now fucking her missionary style.
“Look into my eyes.” Wasim ordered, and this time my wife obeyed.
Wasim lifted her legs and raised them. Putting my wife’s ankles on his shoulders, he pounded her hard. In between, he kept spitting on Vidya’s face. Vidya was now moaning uncontrollably, her body in the throes of yet another orgasm. Her cunt seemed to radiate pleasure (I am over exaggerating, I am sure) from the penetrative assault. She still cried out from time to time as her tender ass cheeks, where she had been lashed, hurt from being rubbed against the couch fabric.
Wasim lasted almost fifteen minutes, fucking my wife in that uncomfortable position on the couch. When this had begun, Vidya had been crying due to pain and humiliation of being punished with his belt. Now slowly, her tears and muffled grunts of pain slowly morphed to those of pleasure. She was having her orgasm. Again.
Wasim seemed to derive some sadistic pleasure at this.
“You really are a harlot.” He said, spitting at her once again. Vidya could only moan in reply, lost to the sensations of her body.
When Wasim finally climaxed inside my wife, he made sure to pummel his cock deep into her and stay buried inside her for a long time. He wanted to, as he quoted, “give his sperm enough time to fertilize her Hindu belly”.
Wasim got up, but ordered Vidya to remain on the sofa, legs spread apart. He watched his spunk drip down her thighs and fall on her floor. Finally, after a minute, Vidya was allowed to sit up. She did so, groggily. In spite of getting an ass whupping, my wife had cum thrice in that fifteen minutes.
“I will be back on Monday.” Wasim announced, starting to dress. “Tomorrow is Saturday and the weekend, so you will have some time to yourself. And your nikammah husband. And buy that yellow sari.”
Vidya looked at him, but said nothing.
Unknown to Wasim, this would be the last time she would be looking at him like this for a long time.
The weekend came, and Vidya was in a surprising good mood. We even had sex a couple of times. She seemed eager to make me happy, and I even managed to last a whole three minutes. I was a bit puzzled though. I thought she would have been in a bad mood given how Wasim had abused her.
The whole Monday I was expecting my camera app to light up any time, but it didn’t. It seemed as if Wasim or Feroz was too busy to visit their favourite housewife. I was surprised, but didn’t say anything. And then whole of Tuesday passed similarly, once again with no visit. Now I was a bit mystified. What was going on?!
On Wednesday I felt even the construction workers were treating me with some reverence. Or was it even fear? I didn’t know what was happening. I suddenly realized I hadn’t seen Wasim in these three days. Just Feroz. And he was keeping far away from Vidya.
On Thursday morning, as I was about to leave for work, Vidya dropped a bombshell.
“Darling.” She said. “Can you work a little late tonight? I don’t want you home before 8 pm.”
“Oh.” I raised my eyebrows. “What’s the matter?”
“Oh. Balachandraji is visiting.” Vidya replied nonchalantly. “Since it’s been a while, I want to spend some decent amount of time with him. We will probably do it a few times, so just take your time in coming home, OK?”
“Er … of course, dear.”
Vidya gave me a long kiss.
“You are such a sweetheart, dear. World’s best husband!”
“Er, thank you dear.”
“No, thank you, dear husband.” Vidya kissed me again. “You know your wife wants to sleep with another man, and not only are you OK with it, you are going to come home late so your wife gets more pleasure. What a sweetie pie you are!”
So no Wasim to be seen. Feroz was there, but keeping his distance. The guards and the construction labourers treating me with respect. And now, suddenly, out of nowhere — Balachandra! To say I was deeply puzzled would be an understatement.
The whole morning at work I was eager to see what would happen, but meetings kept me busy till about 2.30 pm. I returned to my office cabin, shut the door, and switched on the laptop.
As the screen cleared, I saw I was not too late.
It was my small study room — or my home office. Balachandra was standing beside my desk. Vidya was standing in front of him. He was dressed smartly in a shirt and pant. Vidya was dressed in one of my oversized shirts. And nothing else. I could see her long, long legs as she stood there, pouting.
“So I got rid of that guy Wasim, as you requested.” Balachandra told her. “Had to call the Board and lean on chairman Hamid sahib to fire that guard immediately. You never told me why, Vidya bahu.”
“Balachandraji.” Vidya coyly walked up to him. “I really don’t want to say why, but I want to thank you, and thank you properly, for doing what I asked you to.”
So Vidya had called Balachandra and asked him to use his influence and get Wasim turfed out! Why? And how? I wanted to know more.
“Bahu.” Balachandra smiled. “Do tell me. Was he bothering you? I know you hinted at something before.”
“Balachandraji.” Vidya rubbed against him. “I am here, ready for you, and you bring up that guard!”
Balachandra grabbed Vidya, turned her around so she was now between him and the desk, and then pressed my wife’s butt against my desk. He roughly pulled her towards him, and while still standing, he started to make out with her.
I noticed them kissing, and a pang of jealousy hit me. Vidya clearly liked Balachandra, and loved having sex with this old man. I knew that she rated him very highly — much higher than any of her lovers. She would become wet just by thinking about him.
Balachandra was retired from the Indian Armed Forces, and still in perfect shape, and when she was with him, Vidya would pretend to be Balachandra’s young trophy wife, and do whatever he asked her to do. She let him dominate her completely, and he adored that fact of hers. They had very good chemistry together, and sometimes I felt Balachandra even knew, or suspected, that I was a willing cuckold. Right now, Vidya had her tongue out, and I could see Balachandra and my wife engaged in full open mouth to mouth kissing and make out.
Balachandra then ran his right hand up Vidya’s waist, and cupped her left breast over the shirt she was wearing. He slowly squeezed the large breast, his hand not able to fully cover her large boob. I saw Vidya’s eyes open wide, and she squirmed a bit, but she said nothing, and continued to enjoy the kiss.
“Oh Balachandraji.” Vidya came up for air and smiled at him. “No one has kissed me like you. No one!”
Balachandra grinned. “Not even your useless husband?”
Vidya made a face, and then grinned. “He tries, Balachandraji, he tries.”
I cringed as they both laughed for a bit.
“What about sex?” Balachandra asked. “Does he do that as well, or you …”
Vidya smiled. “He tries, Balachandraji, he tries. But of course, with you …”
The two lovers laughed again, and then resumed their kissing.
Balachandra ran his left hand down Vidya’s side. Vidya seemed to be naked from the waist down (she could be wearing a panty — I couldn’t tell), and Balachandra grabbed her right butt cheek, and massaged it. He dropped his right hand off of her tit for a moment, and squeezed both of her butt cheeks, grinding his crotch into hers as he did. They had stopped kissing for now, and Vidya watched, amused, as this old man expertly kneaded her butt.
Then he grabbed the hem of the shirt she was wearing with both hands, and pulled it up slightly, exposing her white bra, resting the top just above her cups. Balachandra grabbed the bottoms of both of her bra cups, and yanked up. Vidya’s large milky breasts fell out of the cups, and bobbled free.
“Oh, bahu. How I have missed these.” He moaned, as he groped my wife’s bare breasts.
“Oh Balachandraji. I have missed you.”
He leaned down and licked her dark wide areolas, and sucked on her fat nipples. I could see Vidya’s nipples become long and erect as Balachandra licked, sucked, and bit them.
“Ok, bahu. Tell me.” Finally they stopped for a moment, and Balachandra returned to his question. “Why did you want me to get rid of Wasim, and that too — immediately?”
“Balachandraji.” My wife kept her gaze bashfully down. “That man was so disrespectful. He would often make lewd comments about me. He would make them to his friends and he would think I couldn’t hear. And then … one day … he had the audacity to pinch my buttock, Balachandraji.”
I realized my wife was an expert liar. Balachandra seemed to have bought this damsel in distress tale hook, line and sinker.
“So did you tell your husband?” He asked.
“Er …” Vidya made another face. “You know my husband, Balachandraji. For this, I need a real man. So I called you.”
“How did he pinch your buttock, bahu?”
“Well, you know one day, I was at the gate, fumbling in my purse for the fob key. Wasim said no problem, I could go in, and he opened the gate. As I passed by him, he pinched my butt. And in full view of the other guards!”
“So what did you do next?”
“I could do nothing, Balachandraji. The other guards were looking, and wondering what I was going to do. I didn’t feel safe, and it was that time of the afternoon when people were asleep. So I rushed home.”
“And then you told your husband?”
“No, Balachandraji. I knew he would try to deal with it and he will deal with it badly. So I called you, immediately.”
So my wife had called Balachandra the day Wasim had whipped her ass with his belt. And Balachandra, rising to the occasion, had the guard immediately dismissed and exiled from the community. This explained why those other guards, fearing for their own jobs, had suddenly kept to themselves and behaved respectfully with me. And why the construction crew were also keeping their distance. And Feroz. They were all suddenly afraid of Vidya.
“It was my duty to help you, bahu.” Balachandra beamed at my wife. “Especially such a good, and sexy, bahu.”
“And now this bahu will reward you, Balachandraji. I am all yours.”
I noticed now, with Vidya’s shirt pulled way up, that she was wearing a pink panty. Balachandra now reached down and forcefully tugged down on her panty, until it was bunched around her knees. Vidya’s thick bushy pubic hair was exposed. I could hear her give a soft moan.
I realized at that moment that my study was the closest to the street on the second floor. The blinds were all completely open, and if someone was in the neighbouring house, they could peer and see my wife’s exposed breasts, butt, and pussy — all in front of a man who was not her husband.
Vidya stood still, and expectant, for a moment as Balachandra unzipped his pants, and tugged them and his underwear down to his ankles. His cock was long, but hanging down. He then turned to my wife.
“You know what to do, bahu.”
“Yes, Balachandraji. I love this cock, I have missed it.”
Vidya reached down with her right hand, and began stroking Balachandra’s cock. Balachandra in turn reached down and rubbed Vidya’s pussy mound over her bush. In no time, Balachandra was fully erect, sticking straight out. He slid his middle finger into Vidya’s pussy, and began to finger fuck her rapidly. Vidya stroked his cock, her eyes half open and a content expression on her face.
“Okay, bahu,” Balachandra ordered. “Turn around.”
My wife released the cock from her hand as Balachandra slid his finger out of her. She hesitated a moment until Balachandra twirled his finger around, indicating that he wanted her to turn around. She did as ordered, and Balachandra said, “Hands on the desk.”
It seemed to be such a pattern, I noticed. Whenever an old lover of Vidya would return after some time, the first thing he would want is to Vidya present her ass to him, and he would fuck her from behind. It was the case with Ramu, with Wasim and Balachandra.
Vidya leaned over and placed both of her hands on the edge of my wooden desk. Being a tall leggy woman, her butt was high in the air. Balachandra lined up behind her, and started to work his cock into her pussy from behind. I watched as he leaning forward, as his dick shaft slowly disappearing inside of my wife’s pussy.
“Oh, bahu,” moaned Balachandra, grunting his pleasure at the feel of his cock inside my wife’s pussy. “I have waited so long for this. None of the other wives I fuck have a pussy like yours, bahu.”
“I waited for you too, Balachandraji.” My wife answered. “Of all the wives you fuck, Balachandraji, I want to be your favourite one.”
“Oh, that you are, bahu. That you are.”
Vidya bit her lips, her head hung down, her thick, jet black hair hanging over her face. Balachandra started to hump her, slowly at first, but soon got into a groove. I watched Vidya’s big tits hanging down as she leaned over the desk. Balachandra noticed them too, and reached around and played with them as he fucked her. Vidya’s smooth bubble butt cheeks rippled every time that Balachandra slapped his pelvis into her.
Soon Balachandra was slamming her harder, and faster, reminding me of two humping dogs. Vidya’s butt cheeks shook faster and made loud slapping noises that I felt could possibly be heard out throughout the house and down the street. Vidya’s breasts, once Balachandra released them and grabbed her hips, dangled down and gyrated wildly. Balachandra’s breathing got heavier, but it was Vidya whose panting got more audible, punctuated with the occasional, “OOOH! UNGHHH!”
As they fucked, I thought back to what they had said. Apparently there were many wives who were having affairs with Balachandra. Vidya was just one of his mistresses. I wondered who the other wives were, and if I knew them. I faintly suspected Vidya knew of them. Yet she was definitely Balachandra’s favourite, and you knew why. There was no one like Vidya.
Their fucking intensified. Balachandra leaned back and threw his head back, his eyes opening and closing, always with that obnoxious smirk on his face. He gave my wife’s butt the occasional light slap every time she looked back and smiled at him over her shoulder, before grunting again. Her body was now shivering — she was on the threshold of an orgasm.
Vidya got louder. I wished she didn’t, because I didn’t want the construction workers, or our neighbours, to know what was happening to my wife. As if many already didn’t know! But Vidya was beyond caring. She was now grunting rhythmically.
“UNGHHH! UNGHHH! UNGHHH!”
Balachandra fucked her for a long time. I don’t know how he could keep from cumming. But he hung in there as Vidya started shaking and letting out little gurgles that she never made when she made love to me. Vidya was never a noisy lover with me.
“OH MY GOD! UNGHHH! UNGHHH! FUCK! OOOOOOOH!”
Finally with one last “UNGHHH!” Vidya spasmed rapidly, circling her butt, in what was unmistakably an orgasm. And a BIG one.
Balachandra pulled back tight on Vidya’s hips as she finished her orgasm and she fell forward on her elbows. I could then see his own face contort, and his butt beginning to clench. He was now cumming in her. In my wife. As Vidya lay like that, he humped her until he had emptied his load inside of her. Then Balachandra slid his cock out of her pussy, laid it on her back, and let his cum dribble down on her skin.
They fucked again after half an hour. This time they did it in the bedroom.
Vidya was seated on top of Balachandra, who was seated on the big solo sofa in the bedroom. Vidya was basically on his lap, her big bum on his right leg. They were kissing. His hands were all over her body, mostly rubbing her bare legs. Vidya was once again wearing another one of my oversized shirts, leaving her legs completely bare. She looked very sexy — it was a different sexy than the saris that she usually wore. He was dressed (I don’t know why!) in his shirt and pants.
As their kiss got hotter, I could see Vidya’s toes starting to curl. She raised one leg, and Balachandra reached even higher on her thigh. Vidya was wearing nothing underneath the shirt, so his hands went straight to my wife’s snatch.
“Oh, Balachandraji.” My wife moaned, as her lover started to rub her there. She was now straddling him, the shirt bunching up at her hips, leaving her ass all exposed. Balachandra had now two fingers inside her cunt, and he was moving them in and out as Vidya continued to moan. He then took his hand out, kneaded and pinched her butt, and then patted her on the rump.
Vidya broke the kiss and looked up at Balachandra, who once again patted her on her ass. Vidya understood, and slowly slide down, kissing Balachandra on his chest as she continued to go down. Vidya was now on her knees as Balachandra stood up, her lips at the same level as Balachandra’s groin. He was now unbuckling himself, his pants falling to the floor.
“Oh, Balachandraji.”
A slight moan came out of my wife’s mouth and she slowly held my neighbour’s cock with her hand. I could see that my wife’s grip was not able to encircle the large monster completely with her small hand and she held it so tight that the mushroom shaped head had come out of its sheath. Then she started lowering his underwear down and in a jiffy.
Balachandra was now completely naked from the waist down. My slutty wife held her lover’s balls with the other hand while still holding the stiff cock tight with the first hand. She was slowly masturbating Balachandra, who was enjoying the moment of a lovely lady handling his cock. Vidya looked up at Balachandra, grinned and then gave him a slight push. He fell back on the chair, seated, and spread his legs out, making his giant dick even more prominent.
Vidya left his cock alone for a moment, and unbuttoned the top two buttons on her shirt as he looked on. Then she unbuttoned the third button. Balachandra then reached out towards my wife and grabbed her right breast, popping it out of the shirt. Vidya herself projected her chest outward, making it easier for him to access. Balachandra was fondling my wife’s right tit while she was playing with his cock. After sometime my wife lowered her mouth and kissed the tip of the cock head and licked. I saw her head lowering slowly and taking the enormous penis into her mouth bit by bit.
“Oh, bahu.” Balachandra groaned, as his prick disappeared into my wife’s mouth. “Oh, bahu.”
Vidya was an expert cocksucker — she did not even leave the balls alone for one minute even as she was deep throating him. Balachandra, visiting after a long time, was relishing every moment. He now held her head with both his hands and moved his groins back and forth fucking my wife’s mouth. After some time he reached both his hands from sides of her chest and cupped both her tits, which were now out of the shirt. He was kneading her breasts as she continued to suck on him. He then pulled his cock out of her mouth and lifted her up. Soon her shirt was on the floor, and she was once more on his arms in his lap.
Their tongues were exploring each other’s mouths and my wife’s hands were all over Balachandra’s back, neck and hair. She was lifting his shirt and had removed it over his head. The two lovers were now completely in the nude and it was just going to be a while before they would move to the bed. His hands too were everywhere on my wife — oh her back, ass, thighs, inner-thighs, tits, cunt and hairs. The kiss seemed to last for a lifetime; then they moved to the bed with my wife lying down on her back.
“Oh, Balachandraji.”
Soon it was a sight I had seen many a times enacted on my own marital bed. Balachandra was fucking my wife like a man possessed.
His cock was deep inside Vidya’s inviting cunt, exploring every inch of her. My wife curved herself like a bow, making it clear how much the intruder had penetrated inside of her, exploring the depths of her love tunnel. As his cock buried fully up to her hilt in her cunt, he would kiss her on the mouth. Then he would pull out, until his cock was almost out, and then ram it back in, once again burying it fully and then kissing her on the mouth. Stroke after stroke he repeated this move, even as my wife’s juices started to overflow.
He would slowly took out his cock all the way out and then slammed it in again – making Vidya jerk and scream again, then with slow and steady pace, he started to piston his cock in and out of her hot slick wet pussy. This was a wild and passionate sex, and Vidya was clawing him back as he slammed his hard manhood into her tight and slick pussy. Again and again.
I could see, in the dim light of the room, a dampness appearing on the bed beneath Vidya. She was raising her buttocks high to match every thrust of Balachandra’s hungry cock.
“Oh, Balachandraji. OOOOOOOH!”
Vidya seemed to be having orgasm after orgasm. Her face was constantly contorted, and she was moaning and convulsing in an out of control fashion as Balachandra continued to fuck her like a stallion. Finally I could sense that Balachandra was going to reach his climax as well — his butt clenched and his body became stiff. His final thrust had buried his pecker deep inside the womb of my wife. His butt started to spasm as he began to pump his semen into her. He continued to do that for a long time.
“Oh, bahu.”
Balachandra was lying down, momentarily exhausted from his exertion, on top of my wife. After draining his cock inside her completely, he raised his head and kissed my wife. Vidya too returned a loving kiss with a smile on her face. He got up, and out came his long and flaccid cock out of my wife’s cunt with a plop. Vidya raised her head to see the cock and a smile passed on her face.
In the next two hours they made love three more times. The last time was when they were in the shower, soaping each other’s bodies. Vidya moved her hand down and grabbed his cock in her hand. Then she slowly positioned it right on her wet cunt. Balachandra didn’t need any further invitation as he slowly entered her cunt. Vidya didn’t even flinch as the massive cock entered her vagina. He pushed it right in her love tunnel and then with slow and deep strokes, started fucking her. Vidya bit her lips as Balachandra’s mouth closed on her tits and he started sucking them hard. Her tits were wet with his saliva as my neighbor feasted on my wife’s breasts.
He kept sucking on her, and she held Balachandra’s mouth on her tits and met each of his thrusts with her own. I was sure Vidya could feel her orgasm building inside as she felt her paramour fucking her frantically. I could see that she loved every minute of this hard fuck she was getting from her Balachandra. Vidya was crying out in pain at every stroke from him, but she didn’t want him to stop. They both came together in my bathroom.
* * *
The construction is now over. It’s been a month since it has been over. During that time, my wife had only slept with Balachandra a couple of times (when he visited), and once with Feroz. Wasim was nowhere in the picture. It seemed as if he was gone from our lives for good. I didn’t know whether to be sad or happy. All I knew was that I could enjoy Vidya a little bit more now. What I didn’t realize at that moment was that soon another powerful man was to enter our lives.
Continue… Indian wife is held hostage and ravaged by the CEO
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