Adultery Indian Wife and the Nukkad Guys by shiprat

[Ramesh_Rocky]

I was sitting in Bombay airport waiting for my flight to start boarding. I was not thrilled at the prospect of returning to the cow belt and all the complications that lay there. I hated that tiny town and the men in it. I had already been exploited a couple of times and the three men banging me in my own house had been the ultimate insult. And I still remembered how Bajwa taken a bunch of pictures and videos during those fuck sessions. It seemed inevitable that more people would find out.


In Bombay, I kept obsessively checking all amateur Indian porn sites where such pictures and videos were posted. Every time I saw a thread advertising a housewife getting fucked by multiple men, I'd click on it, and be convinced it was going to be me until the screenshots proved otherwise. But luckily, I never came across the evidence of my debauchery. I felt relieved and assumed that as vile as Bajwa had acted in forcing himself on me, at least he had the decency to not spread the visual evidence all around town. Checking on all those videos made me realize though that the trope of a high class woman fucking a working class guy was a very popular one. I saw the faces of all those women in the videos and wondered how they were dealing with the aftermath of their mistakes.

I tried to seek some comfort in the fact that my naked body was not splashed across the internet. But there was still the other inconvenient fact that lots of men had had their way with me and in that small town, my reputation as a high class slut was probably well-established. How was I going to deal with it all? I had decided to pretty much become a home body. Once Vinay picked me up at the airport and dropped me home, I decided, I would not leave the house unless absolutely necessary. And hopefully the nukkad guys and others would leave me alone.

Just as I was thinking all this, my phone rang. It was Vinay.

"Hi honey." I said happily. "I am waiting to board the plane. Can't wait to see you."

"I can't wait to see you either, Sheetal." he said. "But there's a slight change of plans."

"Oh....what happened?"

"I had taken the day off to come pick you up. But there's a big crisis here that I have to stay on top of. So I am sending one of the drivers here at the bank to pick you up."

"Oh....is everything okay?

"Yeah, just an issue with the servers. I am sending this young fellow named Raza. He will be at the gate holding a sign with your name on it."

"Okay." I said, battling paranoia. Every man from that town seemed like a threat now. But I couldn't really tell Vinay why I was objecting to something as mundane as having a driver pick me up.

"I gotta go. See you later." he said and hung up.

Throughout the flight, I tried to calm myself down. He was just a driver. A driver who worked for my husband. Even if he had heard something about me through the town rumor mills, surely he wouldn't dare try something fresh with his boss's wife.

When I landed and walked out the gate, I spotted the tall muscular man in a white driver's uniform holding a "Mrs. Sheetal" sign right away. As I walked towards him, I struggled to control my paranoia again. He seemed like a big guy and if he did try something, I wouldn't be able to fight him off. When I approached him, his eyes turned.

"Sheetal memsaab?" he asked and smiled. I detected something loaded in the smile and started worrying again.

"Yes. Did Vinay send you?" I asked, keeping my voice calm.

"Yes memsaab. My name is Raza. Let me get that."

He bent down to take the suitcase from my hand. As he did that, I felt his big hands rub against mine before I took mine off. And I felt a tiny jolt of electricity rush through my entire being. I also got the sense that as he picked up the suitcase and straightened,his eyes lingered a little longer than necessary on my chest and then my legs.

When I got ready that morning, I had expected Vinay to come pick me up. So I didn't really care much about what I was wearing. I had chosen a snug comfortable t-shirt and a denim skirt that ended just above my knees. If I had known I would instead be met by a stranger, I would have dressed more conservatively. But the last minute plan change had meant that he got a nice glimpse at my toned and shaved legs.

As we walked out of the terminal, I stayed quiet. Raza kept glancing at me and I got the feeling he was suppressing a smile. My paranoia started acting up again.

"Did you enjoy in Mumbai, memsaab?" he asked. The stress on the word "enjoy" seemed strange.

"It was okay."

"You must find our town very boring compared to Mumbai." he continued.

"A little."

"But I am sure you find ways to do timepass." he said and there again, was that suppressed smile.

I didn't say anything. We walked into the parking lot, and my brain was filled with all kinds of dire possibilities. From the way he talked, I was sure he had at least heard some rumors about me. I would be in a car at his mercy for about 2 hours. Many scary scenarios presented themselves. Maybe he'd just drive me to a remote location and force himself on me. Maybe a coterie of his friends was waiting anxiously to bang the slutty memsaab. Maybe I would just be kidnapped. With every second, the paranoia kept growing.

We finally reached the car. It was an old white ambassador. Raza put my suitcase in the trunk and then held the door of the back seat open for me to get in. In his white uniform, he almost blended into the background with the white car. His dark brown face was expressionless. But still, I kept reading vile intentions in it.

"Have a seat memsaab." he said when I just stood there dumbly for several seconds.

"No. Give me the keys. I will drive." I said, acting on a brainwave I had.

In a couple of seconds, I realized that the best way to stay in control of the situation was if I drove. That way, there would be no unplanned detours or stoppages. I would just drive the whole way home and be safe.

"What?" he seemed confused. The idea that a woman he was supposed to be driving might want to drive the car herself probably seemed alien to his small town conservative mind.

"I said I will do the driving." and held out my hand for the keys.

"What are you saying, memsaab? I am the driver. You must be tired from the flight. What will saab say when he hears that you had to drive?"

"The flight was not long enough for me to get tired. And saab won't mind. Now give me the keys."

Raza seemed very reluctant to let me drive. We argued back and forth for a minute or so until I raised my voice and he unhappily handed me the keys. I got in on the driver side. Raza got in the other side and sat there, looking either disappointed or worried by this turn of events. That again made me suspect that maybe he had planned a detour.

For a moment, I considered just leaving him behind and asking him to take a bus back. But even in that paranoid state, it seemed extreme. Besides, the car looked old and if it were to have a flat tire or a breakdown, his brawn would be useful. So I let him sit in the car.

Once in the car, I examined my surroundings. The first thing that struck me was that like all old ambassadors, this one just had one long seat in the front. I was used to driving newer cars where the seats were separated with the gear box in the middle. I also ran my hands over the gear levers on the side of the steering wheel and checked the clutch, accelerator, and brake pedals with my feet.

As any Bombay girl would do by habit, I reached behind me right shoulder for the seat belt. But there was nothing there. This old car had no seat belt and unlike Bombay, the cow belt did not have rules requiring seat belt. I threw a glance at Raza. He was sitting leaning against the window with a miffed expression on his face. And he was watching me familiarize myself with the car. Finally I put the keys in the ignition. And tried to turn the car on. The engine made a few weird noises, but refused to come to life.

"It's an old car, memsaab, let me drive." Raza said as he saw me have trouble even starting the damn thing.

"Don't worry about it." I said and turned the ignition again, stepping on the brakes.

"Let me help you." he said and suddenly slid over.

I was taken aback at the speed with which he moved. The car having a long uninterrupted seat meant that in one slide, his thighs were touching mine and his face was right in front of my eyes as he leaned over and put his hand over mine.

I felt my pulse quicken at the proximity to this hunky muscular guy so close to me. Part of me was screaming that he was too close. The other part was relishing his presence, observing his high cheekbones, and inhaling his masculine sweaty scent.

"Press on the break hard. Really hard. Very hard." he said, his lips just inches from my ear. "There you go!"

The engine came to life and the car started. Raza took his hands of my hand. His face was still right next to mine. It seemed a little tense. But he cracked an uneasy smile as he stared into my eyes.

"Now you step on the clutch, and then here..." he moved his hand to my hand which was on the gear shaft.

"I know how to drive a car." I snapped at him.

"Okay, memsaab." he shrugged and with a fleeting glance at my boobs, slid back to the other edge of the seat.