Adultery A Cuckold by Birth by vyasya

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Chapter 6 - Welcome yet another beast!

Nishma caught up with me after another half-hour and chit chatted about inconsequential things until we finally had a moment of solitude. She then broached up the topic.

"Are you happy?" she asked.

"Do you like her," she asked, immediately pushing forward her real question.

"She is good," I quipped.

"Yes, she is indeed good."

"Listen," she said, stealing glances, "Ratan has been badgering me to fulfill the tradition."

"Are you sure you want to go ahead with this?" she asked, looking directly in my eyes. I was speechless. I didn't believe I had a choice in this regard. It always had been her decision. I would have supported her reluctantly, perhaps if I had moral grounds to reject it as an indecent proposal. Having walked along with her for so long, I had practically surrendered my right to veto.

"Not that you have much choice," she added with a little bit of disdain in her voice. It stung a little. This was another side of Nishma that I was getting acquainted with. Nishma was raised as the only child and that meant that she always got her way. She was an obstinate child and if I may add - an haughty one too. I had misread her initial approval of my Uncle and Ratan as a rather generous gesture of hers. After all, they weren't really good looking as per our community standards. Her attraction towards them could only be explained as a fetish. Nishma could be volatile and it showed, specially, when she didn't get her way. So, any time I argued with her, she had a peculiar tone that became her hallmark. More often than not she won the argument, though

Our conversation was punctuated with long pauses as was necessary to observe the people around us but even more importantly to allow me an opportunity to digest it. While she was smiling and nodding, greeting people, I carefully observed her. She had changed into a simple, attractive Saree to wrap up the occasion. She looked even taller in the saree as it exposed her shapely figure, which emphasized her long legs. Only an hour ago, I was besotted by her sister - imagining a happily married life with her in my dreams but the more I stared at Nishma, the more it dawned on me that I was enamored by her and not really her sister Reshma. In the heat of the moment, any pretty lady would look like a world to you but at this point having exhausted myself, it was clear that Nishma was the right woman for me. Perhaps that's why I felt that she deserved a lot more. As I stood next to her, I realized that I was not only a bad match for her at a physical level but also a bad match for her at sexual level.

Physically, I didn't have the looks to match hers - neither the physique nor the height. She was taller than me; by a couple of inches at least if not more. My friends sometimes joked if I could meet her bodily needs; although they never rubbed it in but the truth was almost everyone around me suspected the same. It was an unspoken truth that everyone in both our families knew very well. It was clear to both of us that I was under equipped to take care of her needs; even if I had the specimen, I didn't have the character to confidently take her into my arms as her dream prince charming would have done. However, what we both knew that I was perfect for her since she needed someone who could wholeheartedly accept her with all her imperfections. At an emotional level, no one understood and connected better with her.

I got introduced to Ratan soon after we separated and the party was ending. It was one of the relatives who introduced me. Nishma's parents didn't want anything to do with him or her sister.

"You are the lucky one?" he said with a smirk on his face, extending his hand towards me. Hesitantly I stretched my hand; which he firmly shook. His massive hand dwarfed mine. His stubbed fingers and thick skin of palm conveyed that he grew up doing hard labour work. His complexion was dark; his teeth practically shone against the stark contrast of his lips and his face. He was huge; dwarfing me as he stepped closer. He seemed like a strong, muscular man; was perhaps athletic during his younger days. He exposed his hairy chest purposely to show off his physique. His voice was loud and his demeanor domineering, if not abrasive.

He patted me with his left hand that landed as a thud on my shoulder. His hand tightly squeezed my shoulder blades and with the realization of my bony or rather puny structure, he said "you need to eat man."

The relative who introduced us left soon, making space for the two of us.

"Congratulations man," he bellowed.

"You are indeed lucky - she has the best curves of all the women I know," he added, lowering his voice, "and trust me I know quite a few."