Adultery Indian Wife in the Prison of Spring by aurelius1982-Completed
#22
Day 57

That morning, as she got Pinky ready for school for Amar ready for work, made breakfast, and packed lunch for the two of them, Mansi kept checking her phone every few minutes. She wasn't sure why she was doing that. Duttsahab never messaged her that early. But the two months had made her realize how much she missed his company. And how much she was looking forward to seeing him again.

As the events described above unfolded, she realized many more things about herself and her life.

Most importantly, she realized how much that short but intense experience with Duttsahab in his suite had added to her self-actualization in terms of sexuality. Until now, she had learned a lot from him, from matters of art to using chopsticks to general behavior in high society. That experience in that hotel suite had for the first time, expanded her horizons sexually. Although in its immediate aftermath, she felt conflicted and guilty, as time went by, she came to terms with it. She started exploring her own body and discovered the pleasures it could offer her. Now, she was not as encumbered by the thoughts of morality and propriety as she wondered what Duttsahab had planned next.

Secondly, she realized how important money was in her life now. And how much its absence could sting. In the first two months that she had known Duttsahab, the cash was always flowing in, and it helped her enhance her lifestyle and make her family happier. Especially her daughter. But the two months since, when the cash flow had dried up, she found herself returning to that same old famished state. When a bulk of Amar's modest professor's salary went towards their two biggest expenses - a Mumbai rent and Pinky's exorbitant school fees. Whatever was left was enough for an austere existence, but not enough to fully relish life, much less save for Pinky's future.

So unable to cut back on her newfound splurging lifestyle, she had ended up exhausting almost all the money she had managed to add to the college account. Amar was never going to change jobs. So it was up to her to keep earning and ensure her family's wellbeing and especially, her daughter's happiness, both present and future. So just from that perspective, no matter what her slowly disappearing reservations about morality, she had to continue her association with Dutt for the greater good of her family.

And thirdly, she was finding herself getting more and more dissatisfied with Amar. And not just in bed, although that was part of it. Before the chance encounter with Reena thrust her into this new world, Mansi had been mostly content with the hand fate had dealt her. She had always known that she would end up marrying the man her parents chose and the rest of her life would be dedicated to running his household. She knew she would never have a career and her own tastes or interests didn't really matter.

But through Dutt, she had experienced a different reality. Where she was exposed to a wider and more interesting world. Where her own tastes, her own desires, her own interests got some breathing room. And the more she realized that, the more she started resenting Amar. She saw that for him, she was just a glorified maid and babysitter that he also occasionally had sex with. She always did what he wanted, but the one time she said no, she doesn't feel like having sex, he made her do it anyway. That still rankled.

So it was a much more composed Mansi, having had all these epiphanies, who kept checking her phone that morning. She knew in her mind that Dutt would probably want to take things further. And she herself would not mind it. And it would mean cheating on her husband. But taking a sum total of all the epiphanies, she had, well, why not?

It was a little past 11. Mansi had taken a bath, masturbating a few times in the process. She came out of the bathroom and checked her phone. There was an SMS from Dutt.

- 11:30

That's all it said. She was a bit nonplussed. usually he added more detail. Maybe he was busy catching up with work after his Europe visit, she told herself. Drying her naked body, she went to the cupboard. What should she wear? She thought about wearing one of the western clothes he had bought her. But eventually decided on a sari.

"Going to work, Mansi?" Deshmukh aunty asked.

"Yes, aunty." she said, climbing down the stairs.

At 11:25, she was waiting for the car. It pulled up at 11:40. Purposely late, as per Dutt's instructions.

"How was your..." Mansi started saying as as opened the door and got in. And stopped. There was no one there.

She heard a whirring sound. The partition separating her from the driver's cabin lowered.

"Good morning, ma'am." the driver said politely. "I am to take you to the hotel."

"Oh...okay. Where is..." she started saying, but the partition had been closed again.

Mansi sat in the car as it sped towards Malad. She was a little surprised at being picked up like this alone. Usually, he was always in the car. Again she told herself, maybe he is busy catching up with work after his foreign trip.

The limo reached the hotel in Malad. The driver opened the door, and said,

"You know his usual suite, right?"

There was a slight hint of condescension in that question. But Mansi ignored it and nodded.

She walked into the lobby. This was the first time she had been there since that fateful day. Very little had changed, except for a new sculpture in the corner. There were still well-dressed people milling about. And a small line in front of the reception. She walked to the lift and went up to the same suite as last time. She knocked on the door.

"Yes?" a young man opened the door.

"Oh!" she shrank back seeing the unfamiliar face and got a sense of deja vu.

"Are you...Mansi?" he asked uncertainly.

"Yes."

"Please come in." he opened the door. "Dutt sir is on a conference call."

Mansi walked into a suite full of half a dozen people with laptops or tablets on their laps. Everyone was immaculately dressed in western clothing, including two young women, one of whom was sitting in the same single loveseat that she had been sitting in. Dutt was standing by the side with a headpiece on, back towards her, busy in conversation about business.

The young housewife felt after months that same old sense of not belonging where she was. She stood where she was uncertainly, not sure about what to do. When she came here, she wasn't expecting such a big crowd. A few of them looked at her with blank expressions before looking at their screens again. What, she wondered, did they make of her presence there?

"One second." Dutt said tapping a button on his headpiece, and said. "Mansi, you're here."

She just nodded.

"Wait in the bedroom." she said and resumed his call.

Blushing a little, Mansi walked towards the suite's bedroom. From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a few of the people sitting there, including both women smile and exchange knowing glances. That made Mansi uncomfortable and also a little angry. What did they think she was?

Mansi walked into the bedroom, but left the door open. She could overhear snippets of conversations. It was mostly business jargon that she had no idea about. She looked around the bedroom. Just like the suite, it was artfully decorated. There was a huge king bed with a couple of night stands. A glass desk and a chair. And there was a big screen TV. Mansi waited for a few minutes. Then sat down on the bed and turned the TV on, flipping through the channels.

She felt considerably more self-assured now than she was the last time she was in this suite. But these new circumstances made her doubt herself a little. The way some of those people had looked at her when Dutt told her to wait in the bedroom...she blushed again. But she tried to put it out of her mind and watch TV. She could hear that the conversations outside were getting lower and lower in volume and frequency.

About an hour passed like that.

And then she heard a door close. She had been intently watching a news bulletin when she heard that sound. Immediately she got up from the bed.

"Duttsahab." she said in a soft voice.

"Hello, Mansi. How are you?" he asked in a businesslike voice, taking the headpiece off.

"I am fine." she said. "How was Europe?"

"Europe was Europe." he shrugged.

She watched as he then took off his suit jacket, carefully folded it and placed it on one of the nightstands. She watched as he took his watch off. And then took his tie off. Was this...was this it, she wondered.

"Which countries did you visit? I have always wanted to visit Switzerland." she said trying to fill the awkward silence in the room.

As she said this, he walked slowly towards her. She felt a little uncomfortable as he stepped right in front of her.

"You look even more gorgeous than I remember." he said.

She felt his big burly arms wrap her in an embrace. She had an instinctive reaction to push him away but she fought it. And placed her hands on his side. And then she saw his wrinkled puffy face come closer, with his lips puckered. She puckered her own lips.

And they were kissing.

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RE: Indian Wife in the Prison of Spring by aurelius1982 - by Ramesh_Rocky - 10-01-2019, 04:49 PM



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