10-01-2019, 04:50 PM
Dutt moved first, after his dick shrank to its regular size and slipped out of his latest conquest. He rolled off Mansi, who was glad about it. He weighed almost twice what she did, and his body had put pressure on her ribs. She had been staring in the mirror at their two faces. As Dutt's face turned, she turned her own. And then she felt tears streaming out of her eyes. Hiding her face in her arms, she started crying.
Dutt saw the finely sculpted naked body of his new whore lying there on her stomach as she sobbed. He could understand why she was crying. Until recently, she had been a conventional middle class housewife, who knew nothing beyond the narrow confines of her stilted life. And now she had just had presumably the best sex of her life with an old man who was not her husband. His instinctive comment had made her realize that she was basically just a whore.
Maybe, Dutt thought, it was time to drive that point home. Until now, he had been play-acting an elaborate ruse, as if she was some special flower that he was smitten by and wanted to nurture. The foreplay and the work it had taken to get her to this point had been challenging and fun. Dutt always relished breaking down defenses of women in a careful and deliberate way. But once this major milestone was crossed, he did not want to keep putting in more work. He wanted the women to dance to his tunes. After all, he paid them well enough.
Ah yes, the payment. Patting her naked ass slowly, he got off the bed. He went to the bathroom first to quickly wash up. When he came out, Mansi was in the same position, but had pulled a blanket on top of herself. He chuckled. As if hiding her nakedness now would change anything. He listened and realized that her sobbing was a lot less intense than before. He walked to the nightstand and pulled out a small pouch. Then with it in hand, he walked to the side of the bed that Mansi was facing towards.
"Hmm...let's see." he said.
Mansi heard that and looked up, wiping tears away. He had put his shorts back on. But looking at his mostly naked body still reminded her that this was the hefty old man she had just given herself up to and cheated on her husband with. She watched, with dazed eyes, as he pulled out a thick pink stack from the pouch. And started counting.
"You were great." he said. "This is for you."
His big hairy hands reached for her small soft ones and passed as small stack of bank notes in her hand. Mansi's heart sank as she looked at the stack of thousand rupee notes. Usually the cash transfers were done to the account online. This was the first time Dutt had actually handed her money. It further drove home the point that she was basically just a whore now. Which is exactly what Dutt wanted to do. She felt another bout of tears coming on but fought back. And then she found herself counting the notes. It was fifteen thousand rupees. Much more than usual.
As Dutt watched the young housewife count the money, he knew that the last stage of her transformation to a whore was complete. He started getting dressed.
"I have a meeting to attend in Dahisar. I can drop you home on the way." he calmly said.
Mansi nodded and with some effort, got off the bed. He watched her carefully put the money in her purse before going to the bathroom.
In the fancy bathroom, Mansi cleaned herself up, and then sitting on the toilet, cried a little more. What had she done? Why had she done that? She could not deny that whatever had happened, had happened with her explicit consent. It's not like the old man forced himself on her. And whatever had happened had given her a great deal of pleasure. She had multiple orgasms. And in the end, she had made a good amount of money. So why did she feel like such a horrible person. She wallowed in self-pity, crying some more.
"Mansi, everything okay?" Dutt knocked on the door after 20 minutes.
"Yes, I'll be out in a minute." she said.
Mansi felt conscious of being completely naked even after all that she had done. So she wrapped a towel around herself before leaving the bathroom. Dutt was fully dressed by then, right down to his tie. He admired the curvaceous figure of the young housewife wrapped in a towel. He smiled as she walked around, the room, collecting her garments.
"I...I need to get dressed." she said, hinting that he should leave her to it.
"So get dressed." Dutt shrugged, checking his phone.
Mansi knew that the old man was still looking at her even though he had his phone in his hand. She felt ashamed at him watching, but had no choice as she first slipped on her panties, then put her bra on. Then the blouse, and petticoat. And then finally the sari, which she remembered he had divested her of with such little effort.
While in the lift going down to the lobby, they stood next to each other in silence. A young couple got on halfway down there. Dutt, feeling the male instinct to show off his latest conquest, gently slapped Mansi's butt over her sari. She blushed and the couple chuckled, realizing that the immaculately dressed old man was either with a mistress or a whore.
In the car, as usual, Mansi was staring out the window when she heard the sounds of a zipper. She looked at Dutt who pulled his half erect dick out of his pants.
"What are you doing?" she asked, shocked.
"Can't you guess?" he derisively said.
"Here?"
"Relax. I am not going to fuck you here."
"Oh ok." she felt relieved.
"I just want a blowjob."
"What???"
"Even you can't be innocent enough to not know what that means." he said.
"I am sorry but I don't do that." Mansi decided to put her foot down. This was too much.
"There's a lot you didn't do before that you have already done." he said, grabbing her arm.
"Please Duttsahab!" she said in a sad voice.
"I will pay you extra if you want. Now open your mouth and come here." he sternly said.
This was so weird, disgusting, and unhygienic, Mansi thought a few moments later as the old man's thick dong was in her mouth. He did not undress her. But she was on her knees on the floor of the limo between his legs sucking his dick as he gave her detailed instructions on how to do it. Occasionally he would grab her head and push his dick deep inside. It would hit the back of her throat and make her gag or cough. But he kept going.
"We are almost there, sir."
Mansi didn't even realize when the driver had lowered the partition to say this. Surely he had seen her between his boss's legs. What would he think of her?
"Thanks. We are almost done here." Dutt said, grabbing Mansi's hair harder.
The partition closed again. Mansi felt a small sense of relief that at least the driver wasn't going to keep looking. The next few minutes were tumultuous as Dutt said,
"Don't pull back. Don't fight it, Mansi. Remember, I gave you oral. Yes, good girl."
...
"You have to swallow it, Mansi. This is a nice car. We don't want to mess it up."
...
"Here, have some coke. It will wash down the taste."
...
Getting out of the car, Mansi felt like running home. But there were so many people around, it would look weird. So she calmed herself down and walked slowly. Entered the building and started climbing the stairs. Just as she reached her floor, Deshmukh aunty was sitting on the stairs outside her house sorting dal.
"Back from work already?" she said.
"Hmmm." Mansi said, keeping her lips pressed together. She had rinsed her mouth with coke but could still smell the ejaculate herself.
Deshmukh aunty crinkled her nose and said,
"What is that smell?"
But by then, Mansi had already entered her apartment and shut the door. The distraught young housewife ran to the bathroom. Turning the shower on, she stood under it with all her clothes still on. She felt the water wash over her, and willed it to wash her sins away. She opened her mouth wide and let the shower water wash her mouth thoroughly. As she started taking her clothes on, she felt something under her blouse. It was the 5000 rupees Duttsahab had given her as extra remuneration for the blowjob. In the hurry to leave the car, she had just tucked it there instead of putting it in her purse. The currency notes were soaked.
She put them on the sink and then stood under the shower again, crying.
-
Dutt saw the finely sculpted naked body of his new whore lying there on her stomach as she sobbed. He could understand why she was crying. Until recently, she had been a conventional middle class housewife, who knew nothing beyond the narrow confines of her stilted life. And now she had just had presumably the best sex of her life with an old man who was not her husband. His instinctive comment had made her realize that she was basically just a whore.
Maybe, Dutt thought, it was time to drive that point home. Until now, he had been play-acting an elaborate ruse, as if she was some special flower that he was smitten by and wanted to nurture. The foreplay and the work it had taken to get her to this point had been challenging and fun. Dutt always relished breaking down defenses of women in a careful and deliberate way. But once this major milestone was crossed, he did not want to keep putting in more work. He wanted the women to dance to his tunes. After all, he paid them well enough.
Ah yes, the payment. Patting her naked ass slowly, he got off the bed. He went to the bathroom first to quickly wash up. When he came out, Mansi was in the same position, but had pulled a blanket on top of herself. He chuckled. As if hiding her nakedness now would change anything. He listened and realized that her sobbing was a lot less intense than before. He walked to the nightstand and pulled out a small pouch. Then with it in hand, he walked to the side of the bed that Mansi was facing towards.
"Hmm...let's see." he said.
Mansi heard that and looked up, wiping tears away. He had put his shorts back on. But looking at his mostly naked body still reminded her that this was the hefty old man she had just given herself up to and cheated on her husband with. She watched, with dazed eyes, as he pulled out a thick pink stack from the pouch. And started counting.
"You were great." he said. "This is for you."
His big hairy hands reached for her small soft ones and passed as small stack of bank notes in her hand. Mansi's heart sank as she looked at the stack of thousand rupee notes. Usually the cash transfers were done to the account online. This was the first time Dutt had actually handed her money. It further drove home the point that she was basically just a whore now. Which is exactly what Dutt wanted to do. She felt another bout of tears coming on but fought back. And then she found herself counting the notes. It was fifteen thousand rupees. Much more than usual.
As Dutt watched the young housewife count the money, he knew that the last stage of her transformation to a whore was complete. He started getting dressed.
"I have a meeting to attend in Dahisar. I can drop you home on the way." he calmly said.
Mansi nodded and with some effort, got off the bed. He watched her carefully put the money in her purse before going to the bathroom.
In the fancy bathroom, Mansi cleaned herself up, and then sitting on the toilet, cried a little more. What had she done? Why had she done that? She could not deny that whatever had happened, had happened with her explicit consent. It's not like the old man forced himself on her. And whatever had happened had given her a great deal of pleasure. She had multiple orgasms. And in the end, she had made a good amount of money. So why did she feel like such a horrible person. She wallowed in self-pity, crying some more.
"Mansi, everything okay?" Dutt knocked on the door after 20 minutes.
"Yes, I'll be out in a minute." she said.
Mansi felt conscious of being completely naked even after all that she had done. So she wrapped a towel around herself before leaving the bathroom. Dutt was fully dressed by then, right down to his tie. He admired the curvaceous figure of the young housewife wrapped in a towel. He smiled as she walked around, the room, collecting her garments.
"I...I need to get dressed." she said, hinting that he should leave her to it.
"So get dressed." Dutt shrugged, checking his phone.
Mansi knew that the old man was still looking at her even though he had his phone in his hand. She felt ashamed at him watching, but had no choice as she first slipped on her panties, then put her bra on. Then the blouse, and petticoat. And then finally the sari, which she remembered he had divested her of with such little effort.
While in the lift going down to the lobby, they stood next to each other in silence. A young couple got on halfway down there. Dutt, feeling the male instinct to show off his latest conquest, gently slapped Mansi's butt over her sari. She blushed and the couple chuckled, realizing that the immaculately dressed old man was either with a mistress or a whore.
In the car, as usual, Mansi was staring out the window when she heard the sounds of a zipper. She looked at Dutt who pulled his half erect dick out of his pants.
"What are you doing?" she asked, shocked.
"Can't you guess?" he derisively said.
"Here?"
"Relax. I am not going to fuck you here."
"Oh ok." she felt relieved.
"I just want a blowjob."
"What???"
"Even you can't be innocent enough to not know what that means." he said.
"I am sorry but I don't do that." Mansi decided to put her foot down. This was too much.
"There's a lot you didn't do before that you have already done." he said, grabbing her arm.
"Please Duttsahab!" she said in a sad voice.
"I will pay you extra if you want. Now open your mouth and come here." he sternly said.
This was so weird, disgusting, and unhygienic, Mansi thought a few moments later as the old man's thick dong was in her mouth. He did not undress her. But she was on her knees on the floor of the limo between his legs sucking his dick as he gave her detailed instructions on how to do it. Occasionally he would grab her head and push his dick deep inside. It would hit the back of her throat and make her gag or cough. But he kept going.
"We are almost there, sir."
Mansi didn't even realize when the driver had lowered the partition to say this. Surely he had seen her between his boss's legs. What would he think of her?
"Thanks. We are almost done here." Dutt said, grabbing Mansi's hair harder.
The partition closed again. Mansi felt a small sense of relief that at least the driver wasn't going to keep looking. The next few minutes were tumultuous as Dutt said,
"Don't pull back. Don't fight it, Mansi. Remember, I gave you oral. Yes, good girl."
...
"You have to swallow it, Mansi. This is a nice car. We don't want to mess it up."
...
"Here, have some coke. It will wash down the taste."
...
Getting out of the car, Mansi felt like running home. But there were so many people around, it would look weird. So she calmed herself down and walked slowly. Entered the building and started climbing the stairs. Just as she reached her floor, Deshmukh aunty was sitting on the stairs outside her house sorting dal.
"Back from work already?" she said.
"Hmmm." Mansi said, keeping her lips pressed together. She had rinsed her mouth with coke but could still smell the ejaculate herself.
Deshmukh aunty crinkled her nose and said,
"What is that smell?"
But by then, Mansi had already entered her apartment and shut the door. The distraught young housewife ran to the bathroom. Turning the shower on, she stood under it with all her clothes still on. She felt the water wash over her, and willed it to wash her sins away. She opened her mouth wide and let the shower water wash her mouth thoroughly. As she started taking her clothes on, she felt something under her blouse. It was the 5000 rupees Duttsahab had given her as extra remuneration for the blowjob. In the hurry to leave the car, she had just tucked it there instead of putting it in her purse. The currency notes were soaked.
She put them on the sink and then stood under the shower again, crying.
-
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