Adultery Indian Wife and the Nukkad Guys by shiprat

[Ramesh_Rocky]

I could just feel it in my gut that sooner or later, the nukkad guys would make their move. And truth be told, I was not entirely averse to it. Every time I walked past them, I got a funny feeling in my tummy. or a little below my tummy. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that this wasn't just because Raza was gone. There was something more to it than that. Raza, after out very initial dalliance, had been very respectful and nice. Which was good for my self-esteem. But was frustrating the submissive side that had been unleashed. A part of me....a growing part of me.....was pining for humiliation. And I knew it was coming soon.


One morning, I was serving Vinay an omelet before he was about to go to work when suddenly the usual calm of our neighborhood was disturbed by a bunch of loud noises. It sounded like a couple of trucks, some men shouting and a lot of hard metallic thuds and other sound.

Vinay, surprised walked up and went to the door. I followed him outside. Sarita, her husband, and father-in-law were also in their yard. There were two trucks and a bunch of men unloading equipment.

"What's going on?" Vinay asked, amidst the din.

"We have to repair the road, saab." a paunchy middle-aged man in a hard hate walked away from the group and said.

"What's wrong with the road?" Vinay asked.

The man, before answering cast a glance in my direction. His lips seemed to twitch a little, as if suppressing a knowing smile. His eyes quickly glanced at my t-shirt covered boobs before focusing back on Vinay.

"Nothing wrong, per se saab. But one of Shakoorbhai's election promises was to resurface all old roads. He takes infrastructure very seriously."*

I wondered if the explanation was really correct or if he had just dropped the local leader's name as a veiled threat that he shouldn't be messed with.*

"How long will it take?" Vinay asked, annoyed.

"A week or two." the main said. "My name is Jamal by the way. I am the supervisor of this project. We will try to keep it as quiet as possible."

"Okay." Vinay said and turned back.

As I followed my husband in, I scanned the group of 4 workers with Jamal to see if there were any familiar faces. There weren't. None of the nukkad guys were among them, naturally, as this seemed to be a contract awarded by Shakoor Haji. I didn't remember seeing these men around town. In fact they looked different, almost a little foreign. They were all lithe, toned, and really dark skinned, looking every bit like men who do manual labor in the hot sun.

Vinay bitched a little about how corrupt the political system was and how this contract probably was awarded for a perfectly fine road just to fill pockets of everyone involved. As I nodded, I couldn't help but wonder if the choice of the road had something to do with me. And if sooner or later, it would affect me. I remembered the last time a group of working class men had been in my vicinity and how that had ended. Although part of me was a little nervous at the prospect of something like that repeating, a part of me was a little excited too.

Over the next couple of days, as the men worked on the road, I found myself grabbing every excuse to check them out. Although Jamal was a paunchy old guy with a forgettable face, the men working under him all had lean toned bodies hardened by years of physical labor. They all wore baniyaan vests and knee length lungis, so I got a good glimpse at their sweat-covered shoulders, arms, and legs. They did get my motor whirring as I watched them, sometimes from the kitchen window which faced the road, and sometimes just wandering around the verandah pretending to talk on the phone.

I noticed that the men checked me out too when I was around, but not very blatantly. They were poor daily wage workers and probably didn't want to risk their livelihood by appearing to be too fresh with a high class memsaab. Plus I had overheard them talking to each other in Bengali, so they were probably illegal immigrants from Bangladesh wary of doing anything that would bring them to the attention of the law.*

Jamal on the other hand, was a different story. If he was around when i walked out, he would leer at me like I was a piece of meat. I felt very uncomfortable at his leching. So if he was nearby, I avoided going out. I knew that Raza had assured me of continued protection from any lewd advances, but the way Jamal stared at me, I didn't know how long it would last.

The third afternoon, I was standing by the kitchen window chopping vegetables and taking in the eye candy that was the laborers. They were working on breaking some big stones into gravel just outside our compound wall. They saw me staring and occasionally looked in my direction too, without being too blatant. I was wearing a nice button down top with a couple of buttons open, so a little bit of my cleavage was visible. Underneath, I was wearing knee length shorts, because it was a hot day. Earlier I had taken a short stroll in the verandah and felt a little flutter in my stomach as the men checked out my creamy shaved legs. I was wondering if I should go out and give them another look.

That's when the door bell rang. I went out to get it.

"Hello, memsaab." Jamal's tobacco stained teeth flashed a smile at me.

"Hello." I said, uncertainly holding the door.

"It's a really hot day. Can I get a glass of water please?" he said in an excessively polite voice.

"Sure."

He was just asking for water. No big deal. There was no reason to be rude to him. I started walking to the kitchen to get him water. I expected him to wait at the door as per common etiquette, so was surprised when he started following me in. My heartbeat quickened when he closed the door behind him. Should I throw a fit and ask him to wait where he was? Should I ask him to leave? However, I just quietly walked to the kitchen and let him come with me.

"Cold or normal?" I asked, standing by the fridge.

"Cold please." the man said and strolled to the window.

He cast a glance at the men working outside. They looked at him. He waved at them, they waved back.

"Enjoying the view?" Jamal asked in a sarcastic voice as I handed him the glass of water.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"The past couple of days, I have noticed how you keep staring at my men. The young wife next door stays indoors like a decent woman when strange men are outside. But you are different, aren't you?"

"What are you saying?" I said trying to sound upset.

"Missing Raza, are you?"

"Who is Raza?" I shot back.

Jamal started laughing very hard. He put the empty glass down and put his hand on my shoulder. I shivered at his clumsy touch.*

"Don't play dumb with me, memsaab. I know everything. What you and Raza were up to. And what you have been doing around town. And the way you are always looking at those Bangali workers."

"Take your hand off me." I said, feeling revolted by the man. I knew I didn't really have much of a choice fighting his advances but I was going to try.

I was surprised when Jamal actually took his hand off my shoulder, walked away, and sat at the dining table.

"You know, this is not Mumbai or Delhi. This is a small town. Everyone knows everyone and everyone knows everything."

"Yeah, so?"

"So have you wondered why no one has told your husband yet?"

I actually did wonder about that very often.*

"Because," he continued, "we are decent folks. We don't want to ruin anyone's lives."

I felt like I had heard all this before.*

"That's very noble." I said sarcastically, and went back to chopping vegetables.*

"It is. But just because we are nice men, doesn't mean you get to discriminate."

"Discriminate?"

"Yes, you can't pick and choose only young handsome men like Raza or those young Bangalis outside you are trying to seduce."

"I am not trying to seduce them!" I protested.

"Shut up!" he suddenly raised his voice and banged the table. That startled me. "If a woman is decent and faithful, no man will ever try anything with her. But we all know you are a slut. Instead of taking care of people who keep your secret, you are showing attitude? How would you like it if I told your husband everything today? Maybe even show him what I have on my phone that everyone in town except him has seen?"

There came the threat. I had been expecting it since he sat down and made himself comfortable.

"Please don't do that." I begged.

The change in my tone seemed to please him.*

"Then be a good girl and come here!" he said sharply.

For a moment, I was tempted to take the knife and stab him. But I put it down and meekly walked to him.*

"Sit." he said, slapping his left thigh.

Cringing, I rested my posterior on his fat thigh, like a little girl sitting on Santa's lap. Immediately, his hand went around my waist.

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