Adultery Indian Wife and the Nukkad Guys by shiprat

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Him invoking Jamal's name while standing there with his dick hanging out removed any remaining doubt in my mind about his innocence. When I agreed to let him take me home while talking to Vinay, I had foolishly assumed that he was just a random driver with no ulterior motives. Sure, he was staring at me once in a while, but I assumed it was because I looked so fetching in the black sari. Now I knew that he was "in the loop", and with his latest gesture, it was clear that I probably had a new tormentor in my life. How did all these town people find out all the details of everything I was doing?


I started panicking and my panic must have flashed on my face, because he said.

"Calm down, memsaab. I told you already, I am not Jamal."

Being used to so much rough treatment, I was expecting him to jump on me and try to force himself on me. But he was just sitting on the seat next to mine gently stroking his cock. Keeping a respectable distance between us, even as he stared at my chest once in a while.

"Listen memsaab, you look terrified. Calm down, please. I am telling you, I am not some cruel sadist. I am a decent guy." he sounded really earnest as he said that, even as he was sitting there jacking off next to a fully dressed high class memsaab.

I had no idea what to say or do. I just sat in my place, doing my best not to stare at his thick dong and praying that he really was a decent guy like he said. But I couldn't keep my eyes off his dick for too long. I gazed at the tip of his dick as his hand kept pulling the foreskin off it.

"This is what I meant, memsaab." he said, calmly working on his dick. "Here we are. You, a gorgeous rich high class woman, me a lowly driver. We are sitting here together, as I am playing with my dick, just aroused by how hot you look completely clothed even in that sari. Now imagine if we were sitting like this together in this bus in Mumbai and someone walked by. They would look through the window. They can't see my dick. But they would assume the worst. They would be like.....oh, what is this high class woman doing alone with this lowly driver. And within hours, the news would reach your husband's ears. Isn't that how it would go down in Mumbai?"

"Probably." I said, watching him jack off.

"It works differently here. You are a high class memsaab. I am a driver. Someone sees us together. They think it is one of two things. Either we are just sitting together for whatever reason. Or we are enjoying ourselves together. If we are just plainly sitting together, there is no reason to tell you husband or my wife about it. If we are just giving in to our natural temptations.....well....we will go home to our spouses anyway....so there is no reason to tell your husband or my wife about it."

"Okayyy....." I said, starting to understand at least partially what he was saying. "So your point is, your society is a lot more discreet than the Bombay society."

Suddenly he stopped jerking his dick. And there was a confused look on his face.

"Aren't you Maharashtrian?" he asked, out of nowhere.

"No.....my husband is." I said, surprised at the sudden change in topic.

"Oh okay." he said and resumed playing with his cock.

"Why?"

"I say Mumbai....you say Bombay." he shrugged.

"It will always be Bombay to me." I said proudly.

"I don't really care." he shrugged again. "But yeah, our society is more discreet than the Mumbai....or Bombay society. I hope you can appreciate that. Here I am, jerking off looking at your hot fully dressed body, imagining all sorts or things. Even if someone who knows us passes by, you can be assured that your husband won't find out about you. And you won't find out about whatever your husband is doing. Although he might not be doing anything at all."

Having said his piece, he just sat in the seat next to me, playing with his dick. I could not keep my eyes off his thick dick. Although I had resolved to be faithful from now on, I felt temptations surging inside me. But I fought them off. No, I told myself, I would not submit to this degradation again. But, I also told myself, I could still watch. I gazed at how his wrist jerked as he pleasured himself. How his eyes darted from my boobs to my face to my hips even as I just passively sat there.

"Do you like looking at my dick, memsaab?" he breathlessly asked.

Maybe that was his fetish, I thought. Not to actually fuck someone but to make them watch as he jerked off. Maybe he was an exhibitionist. The tendency to show off penises is very common among Indian men. I had been flashed many such dicks over my lifetime, even before I entered my slut phase. I always wondered what the point of it was, especially because most of those dicks were so small and pitiful. What pleasure could a man possibly derive from just passively flashing his genitals to someone else? But then I remembered how excited I had felt when Jamal exposed my body to the laborers. So who was I to judge?

At that moment, I was just thankful that this guy was passively jerking off next to me instead of imposing his will on me. It was a big change from what Jamal had inflicted on me. As I kept staring at his jerking dick, I wondered, who was he aligned with? By now I knew that the town was neatly divided between two political groups - the Billa group and the Shakoor group. I had been announced to the world as being the "property" of one or the other gang at various times. I wondered what my status was now.

This driver, whose name I didn't know, was uncircumcised, so I was justified in thinking that he might be aligned with Billa and the nukkad guys. But given the complicated nature of identity politics in the cow belt, who knows? Maybe he was aligned with Shakoor and his folks. After all, I had most recently been "owned" by Jamal, who was part of the Shakoor group.

As I thought about all these practical matters, I kept looking at the erect dick, fighting all my urges to strip down to my bare skin and ride it. No, you can't do that, I told myself. You have to maintain your dignity. At the same time, I felt for the poor guy. He was keeping his distance, but the simple sight of my sari-clothed body was exciting him so much. Since he was behaving, I decided to throw him a bone.

I slowly reached for the pallu on my shoulder and pulled it down. My blouse wasn't revealing. With the pallu gone, maybe 1-2 inches of my ample cleavage were visible. But it was enough to get my new friend even more excited. He stared harder and started jerking his dick off faster. I felt a little flattered.

And that's when a car slowed down near us. Until then, vehicles had been passing by at high speed every few minutes. But this guy was apparently an acquaintance or a friend of the man calmly jerking off a few feet away from me.

"Oy Mohan!!!!" came the cry from the car.

My new friend suddenly turned his head and waved. It didn't seem to bother him that he had been seen when masturbating. He seemed nonchalant. I surmised that his name was Mohan. I couldn't help but wave myself as the guy in the car stared at my face. From that angle, I wasn't sure if that passing driver had seen that my pallu was off or not. But in that split second, I didn't care.

"See memsaab." Mohan said in a throaty voice while gripping his dick. "That guy saw us together. But this news isn't going to reach your husband."

I felt a random surge of gratitude for Mohan. My pallu was already off. I thought to myself, why not help him a little. I have done worse. I slid to the edge of the seat close to him and turned to face him, showing him my blouse covered boobs. He sighed. I was about to bend down and maybe.....maybe (although I hadn't decided) take his dick in my mouth when suddenly, there was a sharp knock on the bus door.

Mohan and I were both startled and looked at the door. Outside the glass, I recognized the face of the big burly nukkad guy who had been a participant in my very first encounter months ago that had started this whole debacle. I instantly sat back and pulled my pallu over my shoulder as Mohan gingerly got up and went to the door.