30-12-2018, 01:10 PM
Testing Indian Wife's Limits Ch. 03
Jamaica Shama had been a sexual glutton. So it was amazing and gratifying to me that post-Marcus Shama was even more so. For the next couple of weeks, whenever time and circumstance permitted, she initiated sex, usually with a handjob and a blowjob.
Which was a change from recent years. Although we had done a lot of hand stuff in the early days of our relationship, recent time pressures meant we would go straight to sex. But Shama, probably trying to re-live what was the most kinky taboo experience of her life, was doing it a lot again. We'd be alone for a few minutes after Abhi had gone to bed, and she'd slide over and put her hands in my shorts. Then she'd suck my dick. And then she would ride me.
I had felt confident enough to do the Marcus experiment because I knew him to be a thoroughly decent guy. I was sure even Shama had been more composed and in-control during that encounter, because of the same reason. As opposed to the leering resort guy who tried to make advances, Marcus had been apologetic and thoroughly passive except for when he gave in to his hormones and touched her boobs.
He did end up getting sacrificed in the game though. I never saw him again. The new yard guy was an old fat white guy, almost the exact opposite of Marcus. I casually asked Shama about this one day and she casually replied that Marcus had moved on to other jobs.
For the next few weeks, my experiments with Shama's limits hit a bit of a wall. Work was crazy for us both and Abhi's life was getting more demanding too, with different classes and camps, and kindergarten looming. Lots of play dates and lots of benign social events.
Besides, I myself had been introspecting about the whole thing. And trying to decide what exactly I wanted from it all.
I was clear that my main goal was to keep the spark alive in our sex life, something that had suffered since we became parents. The first incident in Jamaica had been a total accident. The second one, I had carefully orchestrated, with the ability to step in if things got out of hand.
But I had sat there, a few dozen feet away, and watched as my wife gave a handjob to the young man. And had not considered it a big enough development to have gotten "out of hand", pardon the pun. I was still not sure how I felt about the fact that she had used his hands on his substantial dick. It was a step beyond just flashing or exposure. It was something sexual, although it had been couched in utilitarian terms. She had performed a sexual act on another man and I had watched it and done nothing to stop it. And had felt aroused.
I realized that anything beyond what had happened would be tougher for me to swallow or come to terms with. A lone handjob, especially followed by the young man being expunged from our lives was one thing. But what would be the emotional and practical toll on me and her and our marriage if things went further? I was split between finding the idea hot and also disturbing.
Besides, it's not like I could keep engineering scenarios where she was accidentally exposed to someone, I was nearby but not around, and make it seem organic. I was stumped about what my next steps should be.
A couple of months after the Marcus incident, Shama and I were driving back from a party. I was the designated driver, so I had confined myself to just 2 beers. Shama on the other hand, had downed about 5 cocktails. So she was in a drunk giggly mood and also slightly sleepy.
It was after midnight. the roads were mostly empty. On an impulse, I said,
"Shama, show me your tits."
She was leaning against the door humming a song. She looked at me and smiled. Without a word, she started unbuttoning her top. I had a tough time focusing on the road as her bra-covered tits came into vision. That deep luscious cleavage. Divine!
"Take the bra off." I said pushing the envelope. I remembered how cross she had gotten the last time I had tried to get her topless in the car. I was hoping that the dual whammy of her being drunk and the Marcus experience might have expanded her limits.
"Are you sure?" she asked giggling.
"Yeah, it'll be hot." I said.
She took a loud deep breath, reached behind and unhooked her bra. And then exceeded my expectations as she pulled off her top and bra in one drunkenly clumsy moment.
"Oh god I can't believe I'm doing this." she giggled, put her arms across her naked tits and slid down in the seat.
I let her lay giggling topless slumped in the seat for a few moments and get used to this. Then I said,
"No fair. I can't see. Take your arms away."
She did and I saw her big creamy boobs jiggle with the car's motion. her nipples were erect. She was turned on my this.
I was thinking about how to carefully make her sit up and put herself on display when suddenly a truck pulled up next to us.
"BLRNNNN! BLRNNNN!" its horn went off.
I couldn't quite clearly see the truck cab, but he evidently could see into our car, from his higher vantage point. Which is why he had been able to see her tits even though she was slumped in her seat. The honk was clearly an appreciation of getting a look at my wife's big naked tits.
I sped forward, not wanting to freak Shama out. She had also realized what had happened and her face wore an expression of worry. What was notable though - she had not covered her tits.
"He saw me!!" she finally said, slurring a litle. And her tone wasn't one of annoyance, but rather a playful OMG tone.
"Hehe, I guess he did." I said.
There was silence for a while as I put distance between us and the truck.
"You don't...mind?" Shama said uncertainly.
"Mind what?"
"Some stranger just got a look at these. That doesn't anger you?"
"Why would it anger me? It was just for a few moments. And you're coming home with me. It's fun in a kinky way."
Silence for a few more seconds. And then I saw her slide up into a seating position. She was beaming and her cheeks were red.
"You really don't mind this?" she asked.
"I'll show you how much I don't mind." I said and reached up to turn the lights on. The interior of our car was now bathed in a yellow light.
Almost instantly, we got a couple of appreciative honks from cars passing in the other direction on the freeway.
Shama blushed even more, but didn't cover her tits. A couple more honks and then she reached up to turn the lights off. Whoever was passing us must have gotten a nice glimpse of her ample tits sway as she raised her arm.
She slumped down in the seat again and started laughing. I laughed along with her.
"How far are we from home?" she asked.
"About twenty minutes." I said.
She kept giggling. And then I saw her reach over and feel my crotch.
"You're hard!!" she said and laughed.
"As are half the men on this freeway, I'm sure."
We both laughed.
"You really liked this, huh?" she said, sounding a bit more sober.
"I did. It's low risk fun." I said. "It's just half a second glimpses. You have an amazing body. It turns me on to think about guys getting a look at your tits like that."
"Low risk fun." she said, unzipping my pants and playing with my dick. "Strange phrase."
"You know...strangers zooming by. Not like anyone knows you or can track you or take a picture." I said.
"Many people have dashcams now. Especially black people, because of the security officer brutality." she said, gently jacking off my dick.
"Hmm, I hadn't thought about that." I really hadn't.
"You don't mind the fact that a bunch of dashcams might have me...like this...on record?"
"Like I said, I hadn't thought about dashcam angle. But you clearly have. And you don't seem to mind."
She chuckled and shrugged as she started stroking my dick even faster. After a few moments, she said,
"Does it make me a bad wife if I say it kinda turns me on?"
Oh wow! There it was. The first time she was admitting to her exhibitionist tendencies.
Jamaica Shama had been a sexual glutton. So it was amazing and gratifying to me that post-Marcus Shama was even more so. For the next couple of weeks, whenever time and circumstance permitted, she initiated sex, usually with a handjob and a blowjob.
Which was a change from recent years. Although we had done a lot of hand stuff in the early days of our relationship, recent time pressures meant we would go straight to sex. But Shama, probably trying to re-live what was the most kinky taboo experience of her life, was doing it a lot again. We'd be alone for a few minutes after Abhi had gone to bed, and she'd slide over and put her hands in my shorts. Then she'd suck my dick. And then she would ride me.
I had felt confident enough to do the Marcus experiment because I knew him to be a thoroughly decent guy. I was sure even Shama had been more composed and in-control during that encounter, because of the same reason. As opposed to the leering resort guy who tried to make advances, Marcus had been apologetic and thoroughly passive except for when he gave in to his hormones and touched her boobs.
He did end up getting sacrificed in the game though. I never saw him again. The new yard guy was an old fat white guy, almost the exact opposite of Marcus. I casually asked Shama about this one day and she casually replied that Marcus had moved on to other jobs.
For the next few weeks, my experiments with Shama's limits hit a bit of a wall. Work was crazy for us both and Abhi's life was getting more demanding too, with different classes and camps, and kindergarten looming. Lots of play dates and lots of benign social events.
Besides, I myself had been introspecting about the whole thing. And trying to decide what exactly I wanted from it all.
I was clear that my main goal was to keep the spark alive in our sex life, something that had suffered since we became parents. The first incident in Jamaica had been a total accident. The second one, I had carefully orchestrated, with the ability to step in if things got out of hand.
But I had sat there, a few dozen feet away, and watched as my wife gave a handjob to the young man. And had not considered it a big enough development to have gotten "out of hand", pardon the pun. I was still not sure how I felt about the fact that she had used his hands on his substantial dick. It was a step beyond just flashing or exposure. It was something sexual, although it had been couched in utilitarian terms. She had performed a sexual act on another man and I had watched it and done nothing to stop it. And had felt aroused.
I realized that anything beyond what had happened would be tougher for me to swallow or come to terms with. A lone handjob, especially followed by the young man being expunged from our lives was one thing. But what would be the emotional and practical toll on me and her and our marriage if things went further? I was split between finding the idea hot and also disturbing.
Besides, it's not like I could keep engineering scenarios where she was accidentally exposed to someone, I was nearby but not around, and make it seem organic. I was stumped about what my next steps should be.
A couple of months after the Marcus incident, Shama and I were driving back from a party. I was the designated driver, so I had confined myself to just 2 beers. Shama on the other hand, had downed about 5 cocktails. So she was in a drunk giggly mood and also slightly sleepy.
It was after midnight. the roads were mostly empty. On an impulse, I said,
"Shama, show me your tits."
She was leaning against the door humming a song. She looked at me and smiled. Without a word, she started unbuttoning her top. I had a tough time focusing on the road as her bra-covered tits came into vision. That deep luscious cleavage. Divine!
"Take the bra off." I said pushing the envelope. I remembered how cross she had gotten the last time I had tried to get her topless in the car. I was hoping that the dual whammy of her being drunk and the Marcus experience might have expanded her limits.
"Are you sure?" she asked giggling.
"Yeah, it'll be hot." I said.
She took a loud deep breath, reached behind and unhooked her bra. And then exceeded my expectations as she pulled off her top and bra in one drunkenly clumsy moment.
"Oh god I can't believe I'm doing this." she giggled, put her arms across her naked tits and slid down in the seat.
I let her lay giggling topless slumped in the seat for a few moments and get used to this. Then I said,
"No fair. I can't see. Take your arms away."
She did and I saw her big creamy boobs jiggle with the car's motion. her nipples were erect. She was turned on my this.
I was thinking about how to carefully make her sit up and put herself on display when suddenly a truck pulled up next to us.
"BLRNNNN! BLRNNNN!" its horn went off.
I couldn't quite clearly see the truck cab, but he evidently could see into our car, from his higher vantage point. Which is why he had been able to see her tits even though she was slumped in her seat. The honk was clearly an appreciation of getting a look at my wife's big naked tits.
I sped forward, not wanting to freak Shama out. She had also realized what had happened and her face wore an expression of worry. What was notable though - she had not covered her tits.
"He saw me!!" she finally said, slurring a litle. And her tone wasn't one of annoyance, but rather a playful OMG tone.
"Hehe, I guess he did." I said.
There was silence for a while as I put distance between us and the truck.
"You don't...mind?" Shama said uncertainly.
"Mind what?"
"Some stranger just got a look at these. That doesn't anger you?"
"Why would it anger me? It was just for a few moments. And you're coming home with me. It's fun in a kinky way."
Silence for a few more seconds. And then I saw her slide up into a seating position. She was beaming and her cheeks were red.
"You really don't mind this?" she asked.
"I'll show you how much I don't mind." I said and reached up to turn the lights on. The interior of our car was now bathed in a yellow light.
Almost instantly, we got a couple of appreciative honks from cars passing in the other direction on the freeway.
Shama blushed even more, but didn't cover her tits. A couple more honks and then she reached up to turn the lights off. Whoever was passing us must have gotten a nice glimpse of her ample tits sway as she raised her arm.
She slumped down in the seat again and started laughing. I laughed along with her.
"How far are we from home?" she asked.
"About twenty minutes." I said.
She kept giggling. And then I saw her reach over and feel my crotch.
"You're hard!!" she said and laughed.
"As are half the men on this freeway, I'm sure."
We both laughed.
"You really liked this, huh?" she said, sounding a bit more sober.
"I did. It's low risk fun." I said. "It's just half a second glimpses. You have an amazing body. It turns me on to think about guys getting a look at your tits like that."
"Low risk fun." she said, unzipping my pants and playing with my dick. "Strange phrase."
"You know...strangers zooming by. Not like anyone knows you or can track you or take a picture." I said.
"Many people have dashcams now. Especially black people, because of the security officer brutality." she said, gently jacking off my dick.
"Hmm, I hadn't thought about that." I really hadn't.
"You don't mind the fact that a bunch of dashcams might have me...like this...on record?"
"Like I said, I hadn't thought about dashcam angle. But you clearly have. And you don't seem to mind."
She chuckled and shrugged as she started stroking my dick even faster. After a few moments, she said,
"Does it make me a bad wife if I say it kinda turns me on?"
Oh wow! There it was. The first time she was admitting to her exhibitionist tendencies.
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