11-12-2018, 02:17 PM
(This post was last modified: 19-01-2019, 01:57 PM by Ramesh_Rocky.)
"It's not working." she said, shaking the pen and trying again.
The shaking motion made one of the hooks of her gown come loose and displayed a little bit of her cleavage. The postman notice and peeked for half a second before politely looking away. Menaka quickly hooked it up again. It must have been obvious to the postman that this memsaab was just getting fucked. If only he knew that it was the watchman doing the fucking. He might have tried his luck as well, I thought to myself. And knowing how horny Menaka had become, might even have succeded in bedding her, I thought a little bitterly. Watchman, postman, open season for everyone.
"Oh, I am sorry." the postman searched his other pockets. "I don't have another pen. Do you have one?"
Menaka sighed, threw one quick glance at Dara hidden from the postman's sight.
"Wait here." she said to the postman and turned around.
She walked towards the showcase where we usually kept pens. She opened one of the drawers at the lower level and bent down to take a pen out. As she did so, I could see the postman's eyes widen. The reason was obvious. Bending over had made the sweat soaked fabric of the gown cling to Menaka's ass and some of it had gotten stuck inside her ass crack, neatly outlining her shapely buttocks and making it obvious that she wasn't wearing any panties. That view lasted barely a second as my wife straightened and pulled the fabric out of her as crack. But the postman had just been treated to a rare look at the shape of a young high class housewife's shapely ass.
The postman was smiling shyly as she walked back, signed the pad, took the letter and then closed the door behind her.
"Hahahaha." Dara burst out laughing.
"Shut up!" Menaka glared as she put the letter away and walked back to the table.
--
"That was funny." Dara said, wrapping his arm around my wife and patting her cheeks.
"That was not funny." Menaka said in a surly manner. "Things are getting out of control."
"Come on, it was hilarious. Here you are, fucking your watchman, and a postman knocks on the door. It's straight out of a porno movie."
"Yeah, well, life is not a porno movie." she slapped his arm away and walked away from him. "I would like you to leave."
"What?" Dara said chuckling. "But we were having so much fun!"
Vimla had meanwhile come out of the bedroom and was listening to this argument.
"You've had enough fun for today." Menaka tried to sound like a memsaab in charge. There was a strong edge to her voice.
Dara looked at her, shrugged, and decided not to push the matters. As she said, he'd already had a lot of sex. He started getting dressed, grinning all the way.
"When should I come back?"
"Never!" Menaka snapped.
"Seriously?" Dara asked.
Menaka stared at him for a few seconds, then the angry expression left her face.
"No. I...I will let you know. Please try to understand, Dara. All this is a lot for me to digest. I am a simple housewife."
Vimla standing in the corner snorted derisively.
"And you!" Menaka turned to glare at her. "You get out too."
"But I still haven't swept..."
"I don't care. I made you lose your jobs, I will pay you the money. You don't have to work for it. In fact I would prefer it if you didn't."
"Whatever." Vimla smiled and said. Who wouldn't mind being paid without working.
"But that's not right." Dara jumped in. "If you are paying her, she has to work."
Menaka glared at him, then just covered her face in her hands.
"Please, both of you. I don't want to discuss this anymore. Just leave me alone."
Dara, who had gotten dressed by now, looked at Vimla and shrugged. Soon they were both out of the apartment. Menaka closed the door and dead-bolted it, probably so dara couldn't use his keys to enter at his will.
The next few hours were largely uneventful. Menaka went to the bathroom and took a long shower. Then she got dressed in a sari, and probably tired from all the sex that morning, took a nap. She woke up just before our son was to return from school and then went to pick him up.
-
I caught up on some work related stuff sitting in the hotel room while keeping an eye on my wife. Once she picked up Ayan, watching her go about her business almost made me forget that just a few hours ago, she had been bouncing up and down on our watchman's lap. She suddenly seemed like the demure housewife and mom that I had known her to be for about a decade. She got Ayan changed, had him eat his vegetables while watching TV, then went over his homework with him. In between, she cleaned the living room, paying special attention to the chair on which she had ridden Dara, scrubbing it hard.
The hours ticked by and she put Ayan down for his afternoon nap. And then my wife, clad in a modest sari, sat in front of the TV, watching soap operas with a faraway look on her face. A while later, the doorbell rang.
She walked up to the door, looked through the peephole and then sighed before opening it.
"What the hell, memsaab?" Banke, the tall strapping young watchman sounded miffed as he walked in.
"Shhhh! Ayan is sleeping." Menaka said as she tiptoed to our son's room and closed the door, bolting it behind her.
Banke stood there looking like a kid who had candy stolen from him.
"What is the matter with you?" Menaka asked, keeping a respectful distance.
"All this nonsense that Dara told me...is it true?"
"What did he tell you?"
And the Banke narrated a succinct but accurate summary of the events from earlier in the day. Menaka's face went from white to pink to deep red as she heard a third person account of her depravity.
"Is it true?" the young man glared.
"Why didn't you call and warn me that the postman was coming?" Menaka glared back.
"What?"
"The postman. He knocked on the door with a registered letter when Dara and I were...you know. Don't you have the sense to warn me?"
A look of anger flashed across Banke's face.
"How the hell am I supposed to know what houses he's going to? Am I a mind reader?"
"You could have asked him. Isn't that your job as a watchman?" Menaka snapped.
Banke took a couple of rapid strides as grabbed my wife by her hair.
"Listen, you slut." he hissed menacingly. "I know what my job as a watchman is. It certainly isn't to act as your fucking lookout while you get banged by Dara day and night and then have threesomes with him."
"Let go!" Menaka struggled but his grip was too strong. I was tempted to get up and rush over in case he did something hasty. But finally he let go.
"What was it you said the other day? You have standards. And a threesome is beyond your limits. But when Dara snaps his fingers, you just wiggle your ass and do anything he wants. Including having a threesome with him and Vimla."
"I...I didn't want it to happen."
"He forced you?"
"No, not exactly."
"Then?" he glared.
Menaka didn't say anything, just looked down with an expression of shame on her face. She was silent for a minute or so. Banke kept waiting for the answer. Finally he lost his patience. He grabbed her by the shoulder and started turning her around.
The shaking motion made one of the hooks of her gown come loose and displayed a little bit of her cleavage. The postman notice and peeked for half a second before politely looking away. Menaka quickly hooked it up again. It must have been obvious to the postman that this memsaab was just getting fucked. If only he knew that it was the watchman doing the fucking. He might have tried his luck as well, I thought to myself. And knowing how horny Menaka had become, might even have succeded in bedding her, I thought a little bitterly. Watchman, postman, open season for everyone.
"Oh, I am sorry." the postman searched his other pockets. "I don't have another pen. Do you have one?"
Menaka sighed, threw one quick glance at Dara hidden from the postman's sight.
"Wait here." she said to the postman and turned around.
She walked towards the showcase where we usually kept pens. She opened one of the drawers at the lower level and bent down to take a pen out. As she did so, I could see the postman's eyes widen. The reason was obvious. Bending over had made the sweat soaked fabric of the gown cling to Menaka's ass and some of it had gotten stuck inside her ass crack, neatly outlining her shapely buttocks and making it obvious that she wasn't wearing any panties. That view lasted barely a second as my wife straightened and pulled the fabric out of her as crack. But the postman had just been treated to a rare look at the shape of a young high class housewife's shapely ass.
The postman was smiling shyly as she walked back, signed the pad, took the letter and then closed the door behind her.
"Hahahaha." Dara burst out laughing.
"Shut up!" Menaka glared as she put the letter away and walked back to the table.
--
"That was funny." Dara said, wrapping his arm around my wife and patting her cheeks.
"That was not funny." Menaka said in a surly manner. "Things are getting out of control."
"Come on, it was hilarious. Here you are, fucking your watchman, and a postman knocks on the door. It's straight out of a porno movie."
"Yeah, well, life is not a porno movie." she slapped his arm away and walked away from him. "I would like you to leave."
"What?" Dara said chuckling. "But we were having so much fun!"
Vimla had meanwhile come out of the bedroom and was listening to this argument.
"You've had enough fun for today." Menaka tried to sound like a memsaab in charge. There was a strong edge to her voice.
Dara looked at her, shrugged, and decided not to push the matters. As she said, he'd already had a lot of sex. He started getting dressed, grinning all the way.
"When should I come back?"
"Never!" Menaka snapped.
"Seriously?" Dara asked.
Menaka stared at him for a few seconds, then the angry expression left her face.
"No. I...I will let you know. Please try to understand, Dara. All this is a lot for me to digest. I am a simple housewife."
Vimla standing in the corner snorted derisively.
"And you!" Menaka turned to glare at her. "You get out too."
"But I still haven't swept..."
"I don't care. I made you lose your jobs, I will pay you the money. You don't have to work for it. In fact I would prefer it if you didn't."
"Whatever." Vimla smiled and said. Who wouldn't mind being paid without working.
"But that's not right." Dara jumped in. "If you are paying her, she has to work."
Menaka glared at him, then just covered her face in her hands.
"Please, both of you. I don't want to discuss this anymore. Just leave me alone."
Dara, who had gotten dressed by now, looked at Vimla and shrugged. Soon they were both out of the apartment. Menaka closed the door and dead-bolted it, probably so dara couldn't use his keys to enter at his will.
The next few hours were largely uneventful. Menaka went to the bathroom and took a long shower. Then she got dressed in a sari, and probably tired from all the sex that morning, took a nap. She woke up just before our son was to return from school and then went to pick him up.
-
I caught up on some work related stuff sitting in the hotel room while keeping an eye on my wife. Once she picked up Ayan, watching her go about her business almost made me forget that just a few hours ago, she had been bouncing up and down on our watchman's lap. She suddenly seemed like the demure housewife and mom that I had known her to be for about a decade. She got Ayan changed, had him eat his vegetables while watching TV, then went over his homework with him. In between, she cleaned the living room, paying special attention to the chair on which she had ridden Dara, scrubbing it hard.
The hours ticked by and she put Ayan down for his afternoon nap. And then my wife, clad in a modest sari, sat in front of the TV, watching soap operas with a faraway look on her face. A while later, the doorbell rang.
She walked up to the door, looked through the peephole and then sighed before opening it.
"What the hell, memsaab?" Banke, the tall strapping young watchman sounded miffed as he walked in.
"Shhhh! Ayan is sleeping." Menaka said as she tiptoed to our son's room and closed the door, bolting it behind her.
Banke stood there looking like a kid who had candy stolen from him.
"What is the matter with you?" Menaka asked, keeping a respectful distance.
"All this nonsense that Dara told me...is it true?"
"What did he tell you?"
And the Banke narrated a succinct but accurate summary of the events from earlier in the day. Menaka's face went from white to pink to deep red as she heard a third person account of her depravity.
"Is it true?" the young man glared.
"Why didn't you call and warn me that the postman was coming?" Menaka glared back.
"What?"
"The postman. He knocked on the door with a registered letter when Dara and I were...you know. Don't you have the sense to warn me?"
A look of anger flashed across Banke's face.
"How the hell am I supposed to know what houses he's going to? Am I a mind reader?"
"You could have asked him. Isn't that your job as a watchman?" Menaka snapped.
Banke took a couple of rapid strides as grabbed my wife by her hair.
"Listen, you slut." he hissed menacingly. "I know what my job as a watchman is. It certainly isn't to act as your fucking lookout while you get banged by Dara day and night and then have threesomes with him."
"Let go!" Menaka struggled but his grip was too strong. I was tempted to get up and rush over in case he did something hasty. But finally he let go.
"What was it you said the other day? You have standards. And a threesome is beyond your limits. But when Dara snaps his fingers, you just wiggle your ass and do anything he wants. Including having a threesome with him and Vimla."
"I...I didn't want it to happen."
"He forced you?"
"No, not exactly."
"Then?" he glared.
Menaka didn't say anything, just looked down with an expression of shame on her face. She was silent for a minute or so. Banke kept waiting for the answer. Finally he lost his patience. He grabbed her by the shoulder and started turning her around.
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