Adultery Indian Wife and the Nukkad Guys by shiprat

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Story :-  Indian Wife and the Nukkad Guys

Written by shiprat

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Indian Wife and the Nukkad Guys

---

Note: I am trying my hand at a long multi-part story like aurelius1982 and bdrew86 are known for. It will start off slow and progress slowly. Will take weeks, maybe even months to complete. I am posting as I write. I will try to update whenever I get time but there may be long periods of inactivity. Please bear with them. I do have a life outside erotica after all, and it can be demanding sometimes. So with those words, here goes.

It was about 11 in the morning on a Wednesday. I finished my chores around the house and the short assignment I had been working on for my online course. My husband Vinay had gone to work very early and said he wouldn't be home for lunch, so I didn't need to cook. I watched TV for a while but there was nothing to grab my attention. I walked to the window and looked out.

It was a beautiful 26 celsius day. It was the middle of the summer when temperatures would usually be scorching on the Indian plains but it had rained the previous day and it had cooled things down. Perfect weather for running, I had told myself from the moment I had gotten up. My body almost ached for a run. If it had been Bombay, I would have been out in a flash. But it wasn't Bombay. It was a small town in the cow belt, which even after six months, felt like a foreign country.

"Fuck it, I really need some serious cardio." I told myself and headed to the bedroom. Opened my closet.

I shuffled through my wardrobe to find something appropriate to wear. When we lived in Worli, this was never a hard decision. My standard attire for running was a tank top and shorts. In the perpetual humidity and the heat of Bombay, they were the best thing to wear for a 10K run. Plus Bombay in general, and Worli in particular, was largely safe for women, despite the occasional media report about a bang. I would be one of several women running in that attire, either along the sea-face or in one of the parks.

Sure, men stared, and there was the occasional whistle, and the rare proposition. I have been blessed by the creator with a pretty face, a voluptuous body, and thick shiny hair. I got attention from men all my life, in all walks of life. So even running in Worli, I knew that at any moment, there were dozens of male gazes fixed on my toned buttocks and on my heaving size D boobs.

But I never felt unsafe. I had grown up in Worli. I knew Worli. I could handle Worli.

But this was a cow belt small town. The attire would be considered scandalous here. Maybe even an invitation for trouble. And with the "Nukkad Guys" always hanging out at the end of the street, I might as well be wearing a "Come Harass Me" sign on my chest.

The Nukkad Guys. This was a foreign phenomenon for me until we moved here, but my husband, who had grown up in the cow belt (but in a big city - Kanpur), said the phenomenon was common all over the region.

You see, Bombay is the lodestar that attracts anyone who wants a job. And anyone can get a job. Bombay is an extremely industrious city, and everyone from a CEO to a broker to a street seller to a dabbaw,.' is busy busy busy. Everyone has a job. to do. Everyone had places to get to. Everyone is in a rush. You don't usually see groups of men just lounging around for hours at end everyday at street corners.

But the cowbelt is different. Unemployment is high. There is very little industry. So in most neighborhoods, there is apparently a set of "nukkad guys". Anywhere from 6 to 12 men just hanging around a pan shop or a tea stall. They are either unemployed or are underemployed, which means they don't work full time. Most are connected to one of the local political leaders and "bahubalis", or political enforcers.

And these nukkad guys are notorious. And are a bit feared by "decent" folk. The nukkad guys are an excellent illustration of the saying - an empty mind is a devil's workshop.

The nukkad guys in our colony were apparently aligned with a regional party that currently ruled the state. So they were even more brazen.

Like I said, I was used to attention, and the occasional teasing and proposition from random men in Bombay once in a while. I either ignored them or occasionally gave a sharp retort which would shut up those men. But these guys were at a completely different level altogether. I still remember the first day I encountered them about six months ago. It was the day after we had moved to the town.

It was the middle of the afternoon and I was home alone, getting bored. This was the first time in years I wasn't working, so I had no idea what to do with my time. I decided to cook an elaborate Avadhi style biryani for dinner. As I checked the recipe online, I realized I was missing a lot of ingredients. So I just picked up my purse and stepped out of the house.

"How are you, Sheetal didi?"

Sarita, the young daughter-in-law living in the house right next door piped up. She was in their verandah, watching over her two-year old as he ran around.

"Oh hi Sarita."

I walked over to the wall separating our properties. She got up and walked towards me too.

"Getting adjusted okay?" she smiled and asked. "Our tiny town must be a big change from Bombay for you, didi."

"It's not a big deal." I smiled back. "And please Sarita, don't call me didi. You are....how old?"

"20, didi." she said, blushing for no reason.

Wow, just 20 years old and she already had a 2 year old. They really were a very traditional family as I had found out the previous day. They had come over to welcome us and offer their help. Sarita, her husband, and her young son lived with her husband's ageing parents.

"You are 20. I am 29. We are not that far apart in age. Just call me Sheetal." I said.

"Okay." she said, sounding uncomfortable. "Where are you going?"

This was another aspect of cow belt life that was unfamiliar to me. Neighbors in Bombay generally maintained a figurative distance from each other. We said hi hello namaste, were courteous, but a question like "where are you going" would have been considered too intrusive in most of Bombay.

"Just going to the grocery store to get some stuff." I said, reminding myself that she didn't mean to be nosey. This is how things worked in her world.

"Wearing that?" she said, raising her eyebrows.

A little surprised, I looked at myself to make sure I hadn't walked out in lingerie or something. No, I saw capri pants and a t-shirt. Perfectly normal clothes. I know we were in the cow-belt but surely that wouldn't be considered provocative.

"Yes. You have a problem?" I said, with an edge to my voice.

"No no, didi." she backed off.

There was an awkward silence. And I walked away after a goodbye nod.

I opened the gate of our yard and stepped out, walking up the street towards the main road where the store was. As I walked a couple of hundred meters, I got my first look at the "nukkad guys". There were about 8-10 of them milling around a tea stall at the corner of our street.

They were laughing and joking with one another, a couple of them smoking, until I approached. It felt weird when they suddenly went silent and started staring at me. I kept my eyes straight ahead, deciding to ignore them. But I could feel that half their gazes were fixed on my chest and the other half on my bare shins and calves. Wow, I thought to myself, how desperate must these men be to consider this an attire worth gawking at?

And as I walked past them, a few feet away, one of them, a balding young guy with a mustache suddenly started singing,

"Dhoop mein nikla na karo rooop ki raaaaani....."

Which was an old Hindi song with the line saying "Don't go out in the harsh sun, you beauty queen"

I was a little taken aback by the blatant comment, but I kept walking. And suddenly the rest of the guys joined in, forming a chorus,

"Kahin gora rang kaala na pad jaaye!!" (You might just tan your white skin)

That was followed by a big burst of laughter. I stopped in my steps and looked back with a frown on my face. I focused my attention on the balding guy who had started singing. He was leaning backwards on a wooden bench with his hands on the seat. He looked back at me cockily.We stared into each other's eyes, me frowning, he grinning.

"Where are you going, memsaab? Need a lift?" he asked in a leery voice.

For a moment I considered giving a sharp retort like I might have in Bombay. But I reminded myself, this is practically a different country. I broke our staring contest contest, looked straight and kept walking.

The guys kept singing the song, as if to underline their little victory over me.

I walked to the main road and then the grocery store. I bought all the things I needed, noting with annoyance how the shopkeeper and his helper also kept checking out my tits and my bare shins and calves like I was some stripper on display. I paid for everything and started walking back.

As I walked back, I was already thinking about what to do if those nukkad guys teased me again. Should I confront them or ignore them? Polythene bags in my hand, I kept trying to decide as I turned around the street corner and approached them again.

I expected them to break out into song again. But they didn't. All of them stayed quiet, grinning and whispering to each other as they blatantly stared at me going past. It was slightly tense, but no one said anything for a while. Until I had walke past them, and a different voice shouted out,

"Need some help carrying those bags, memsaab?"

There were a few chuckles. I kept walking, realizing that Sarita had not been entirely wrong in questioning my choice of clothing. I was a Bombay girl in the cow belt. I needed to understand its culture to avoid such trouble.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

I had that first encounter and many subsequent encounters in mind as I rummaged through my wardrobe to find the right clothes to wear for my run on that beautiful day six months after we had moved to the tiny cow belt town. I finally chose a loose t-shirt and long, not a figure hugging one. The t-shirt was long enough to go down to mid-thigh and cover my butt. And I chose loose full length track pants instead of the shorts I would wear in Bombay. I also chose my most secure and heavily built sports bra. Being a woman with big boobs, wearing a sports bra is a must while running. It minimized the swinging and jiggling and made things easier on my back. But I knew that being as well-stacked as I was, gravity would still do its bit.


As I slipped off my regular bra to change into the sports bra, I looked at my big swaying boobs in the mirror. I had always had a complicated love-hate relationship with my big boobs. Having developed them earlier than my peers, initially I liked the attention I got from boys in my college. But when I started getting attention from creepy men on the street, I started hating them. Very soon in college, I became known as the one with the biggest boobs, and it seemed like no matter how hard I studied, how good I did in exams, and whatever I did in the sports and extracurricular domain, I was always considered the big boobed one first before anything else. Being taller than average at 5 ft 8, I was also very active in sports (I ran long distance, played basketball and volleyball), and the big boobs also started causing occasional back ache. I started actively hating my boobs and envying girls who had small or normal boobs.

As I graduated college and moved to engineering college, I grew up emotionally as well. I read feminist literature, interacted with open-minded folks and generally experienced a broadening of horizons. I also started exploring my sexuality in college, dating guys, and relishing how smitten they seemed with these big blobs of fat hanging from my chest. I still remember that when I lost my virginity to the age of 19 to a 4th year student, he kept biting my nipples the entire time he was fucking me. That dalliance didn't last long. I dated another guy. At this point, my big boobs, in addition to my active dating life, gave me a reputation as a slut in the college. But I didn't care. I did well in academics, and had a good career lined up.

My parents were never super-conservative, but nor were they super-liberal. They gave me enough space during my college years, and were polite to a couple of my boyfriends. But at the age of 25, when I had been working in IT for 3 years after college and had gone through 4 serious boyfriends, each relationship ending in a messy break-up, my dad got upset. He sat me down one day in our balcony overlooking the Worli sea-face and said to me,

"Sheetal, I love you and I have never treated you any differently than your brother. You are intelligent, ambitious, accomplished, and have a great future ahead of you."

"Thanks dad." I said, knowing that there would be more.

"But...what is happening with your personal life? You know I am not some old fuddy-duddy who wants you to have an arranged marriage within our caste. I know we live in the 21st century. If you find a guy on your own, I will be happy to bless the union. And I have been very nice to all your boyfriends, haven't I?" he thundered.

"Yes, dad." I meekly responded.

"You just keep picking.....forgive my language....one asshole after another!"

"I am sorry dad." I said, tearing up. Dad was a complicated creature. He usually left us alone but when he spoke up, it was with this kind of irresistible intensity.

"So Sheetal...you are 25. You have a good job. Great prospects. Do you want to keep trying to date guys like you have so far? Or do you want to find the right guy and settle down?" he softened his voice a little bit. "You are my darling girl, Sheetal. If you want to play the field for a while longer, go ahead."

"No dad." I said, sticking to the practical values he had imposed in me. "I want to find the right guy and settle down."

And I was serious. It had never been my intention to be some sex-crazy harlot sleeping around. With each relationship, I had hoped to end up with Mr Right. It just had not gone well.

"Hmmm..." dad said, nodding. "You remember Vinay?"

"Yes." I said. I had known Vinay since childhood. He was the son of a family friend from Kanpur, about 5 years older than me. A very nice guy, very smart, accomplished. Had studied accountancy, done an MBA, and now worked in the banking sector. In my teen years, I even had a bit of a crush on him, but he was 5 years older and lived in Kanpur, so nothing could really happen.

"He also went through a bad break-up recently. His parents are also looking to find someone for him. And his dad asked me about you."

"Oh." I said, suddenly finding myself in the unfamiliar arranged marriage scenario.

"Sheetal, you know I am not old-fashioned. I am just saying.....met him for coffee....think of it as a date. If you don't like him, you don't like him. If you like him, just.....think about it."

"Okay, dad." I nodded.

Well, you obviously know that I ended up marrying Vinay. He ticked all the required boxes. He was charming. He was stable. He was smart. He was caring. Things proceeded really fast and we were married within 4 months of our first arranged date.

He worked with a multinational bank. I worked in IT. After we got married, our parents pooled together funds to buy us a 3 bedroom flat on the Worli Seaface. And our married life started. It was mostly pleasant and nice. Vinay was at his core a nice guy. But it always sort of bothered me that he had never really swept me off my feet.

A couple of years into our marriage, things were going well. Vinay and I were building our lives together in our nice Worli flat. We were both in very demanding jobs so we didn't get to spend too much time together, even on weekends. But we were generally happy with each other. And eventually fell in love. We had a good life together. We ate at great restaurants, watched nice movies, hung out with a lot of friends. I had taken up long distance running to stay in shape while he played squash. It was a great privileged South Bombay life.

The sex was not bad. At least for me. Vinay didn't quite match up to some of my virile and aggressive past lovers, but he knew his way around a female body. He did all the right things, and did them well, including cunnilingus, and I was mostly satisfied. But he wasn't very imaginative or aggressive. In a way, it was nice and showed how much he respected my tastes. He never pushed me out of my comfort zone. But at the same time, maybe I always had a submissive side that was starved during that marriage. And that's what led to all those complications later on.

Anyway, things at Vinay's company took a turn for the worse. They got caught up in a regulatory scandal and the bank's global bosses announced that they would be shutting down their India operations. Although Vinay wasn't personally involved in the mess, just having that company on his resume was a problem. Once his company shut down, he started looking for jobs. There were many interviews that ended with no offer.

Finally when he did get an offer, it was from an Indian bank. It wanted him as a manager. But it first wanted him to spend some time building up one of its "upcountry" branches. Which meant that he would have to spend 1-2 years in some tiny town proving himself as a branch manager before he could be promoted to a position in Bombay.

And that, is why we were in that tiny cow belt town. Vinay was a branch manager setting up and expanding the bank's operations in that region. Given the taint of his former company, he did not have a choice. And given that I loved my husband and wanted to be with him, I did not have a choice but to move with him to the boondocks.

So I gave up my lifelong South Bombay lifestyle, took a sabbatical from my company with the understanding that I could still do some work remotely, and we moved to this tiny and bizarre cowbelt town which seemed straight out of a Prakash Jha movie.

I stopped fondling my own tits and finally pulled the sports bra over my neck and fit it over my ample bosom. I wore the loose long t-shirt over it. And then slipped on the trackpants. Then I put on my running shoes, and with the keys inside my socks, I stepped out of the house for my first outdoor run since moving out of Bombay.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Quote:
Originally Posted by Stonybrook View Post
Missing out and out a woman's voice in the narration. As you know; women see, internalize and react to the outer world in a way markedly different from those of men unless of course we are referring to metrosexuals.

Hope you take care...

Added reps for your effort

SB

shiprat-

As a female writing the story, not sure what you exactly desire. By a "woman's voice" do you perhaps mean frail confused beings that just need a strong powerful man to satisfy them? Should I perhaps underline how important it is that us weak females restrict ourselves to the kitchen? Any other sexist misogynist instincts you need legitimized?

[Ramesh_Rocky]

I really hoped I wouldn't run into Sarita again. Over the last few months, her perpetual presence outside had gone from endearing to infuriating. Luckily, she wasn't there. I stepped out the door and locked it, placed the key under a flower pot, and then took a few long strides to the gate. I was dressed in a loose t-shirt and track-pants, intending to run on trails in the countryside along our neighborhood.


I held my phone tightly in my hands and started walking. I knew that when I passed the nukkad guys, they would have something or the other to say about me. They had become quite a nuisance by themselves since that first time I walked past them six months ago. They had also become, in my own mind, a source of some quasi-sadistic entertainment, I was a little too sure of my position in the society of that little town. I was the wife of the guy who was the manager of the biggest bank setting up a a branch in the town. What he was doing was crucial to the economic future of the town. Which I thought indicated that my well-being was crucial to the economic future of the town.

I convinced myself that as long as I dressed demurely enough, they would not dare cross the line. And I was dressed as demurely as possible, in a loose long t-shirt and track pants. Yes, I was going running by myself, something no "decent" women in the town ever did. But still, I had worn enough signals to indicate that the guys should leave me alone. I was not wearing a cleavage-exposing tank top and thigh-revealing shorts like I would in Bombay. I was dressed in a garb that would cover most of my skin.

As I walked up the street, occasionally stretching my thigh muscles and my shin muscles, I soon approached the "nukkad" where the guys usually stood. I was a bit relieved to see that there weren't as many men there as usual. Usually, there would be 10 or so guys lounging around the tea stall. As I made my way up the street, I saw only 4 guys. Relieved, I exhaled loudly, thinking I had caught a big break. I slowly strolled towards them.

As I passed the tea stall, I could see that the thugs were a bit confused by my garb. For a change, there were no cat calls. At least not right away. I walked past them basking in the pleasant but unfamiliar glow of their confused looks. They were confused because I was so fully covered up.

And they were also confused because in recent months, I had not been so fully covered up. And this is where, dear reader, I must confess my partial culpability in what followed next. Here's the story.

That first time I told you about, when I walked past them dressed in what I considered a simple and decent outfit - capri pants and a t-shirt, they heckled me. I was pissed off but also a little flattered. I had been dressed in a garb that in Bombay would have elicited no responses. Sure, my shins and calves were showing and the t-shirt I was wearing was tight. But so what? It was nothing extraordinary in Bombay where occasional street louts were used to seeing women running past in way skimpier clothing. And yet here, in the cow belt, I was catcalled as if I were dressed like a whore.

That, honestly, intrigued me a little bit. In normal circumstances, I would not have given it a second thought. I would have been too busy thinking about work stuff. But in that small town, relegated to just looking after my husband, I had no work stuff to deal with, In previous years, there was always a deadline hanging over my head. Not this time. Not yet. My boss had promised to send me some stuff to work on but it had not come in yet. I tried to keep myself busy with cooking and cleaning, but those chores got done really fast. So I was literally a bored housewife trying to find ways to spend time.

Although the catcalls from that first experience had disturbed the demure self-respecting side of my personality, they had also stoked the attention-seeking side of my personality. Since my teens, I was used to being showered with attention by males. I knew I was good looking, had a nice face and a great figure, and almost expected to be propositioned. Since my marriage to Vinay however, things had changed significantly. The guys at work knew I was now married so most of them did not try to go after me. Even on the streets, maybe I exuded a sense of my married identity - maybe it was the mangalsutra I usually wore. But even the occasional catcalls and propositions in Bombay had gotten rare.

So the nukkad guys taking such interest in me fed the attention-starved side of me. It also made me feel kinda powerful. Finally, after a short break, I again had the power to make a group of guys act like cavemen. They were expressing their desire for me in the most primal way possible. I was disgusted because of who I was (a married woman) and who they were (a bunch of savages), but I was also flattered by the attention.

After that first experience, I was a little spooked. But then, as a couple of weeks rolled by, I started thinking about that experience. How they had all stared at me and made me the center of their existence. It was a bit exhilarating, thinking about all those young virile men desiring me. A part of me was disgusted by their lewd behavior. But a part of me was also intrigued. My sentiments were motivated by the fact that things between me and Vinay were tepid in the bedroom. He was so busy with his new assignment of setting up and running the new branch that he mostly worked 14 hours a day. And I, living in that tiny podunk town, had nothing much to do. I would spend the day hoping he would come home and fuck me hard, but most days, he would come home exhausted and go to bed,

Maybe that's why, a couple of weeks after we moved in, I found myself dressed in a figure-hugging t-shirt and a pleated knee-length skirt. The best part of the skirt was that it hugged my ass really snugly, accentuating it for anyone watching. And the nukkad guys were definitely watching. When I walked past them, they whistled like crazy. I felt a little belittled, but mostly, I felt delighted by the attention. Although my husband didn't get aroused himself most nights to bang me, these young guys found me attractive, It fed my ego.

I walked past them, clad in my tight t-shirt and my knee length skirt. There were about 9 of them that day. They stared at my chest and and my half-bare legs alternating. It felt nice, I will be honest. All these virile horny men gawking at my shins. It felt oddly empowering. Eventually one of them started singing,

"Tu cheez badi hai mast mast...."
(You look like an intoxicated object(

I heard the song. I frowned, trying to suppress a smile. I walked past them. A few dozen steps later, I noticed that a couple of them were walking behind me. That creeped me out. What the fuck, I thought. I knew they would call out to me. But this thing of following me? That was weird. I went to the grocery store. The owner and his helper stared at my knees while they filled out my order. I walked back home. The couple of nukkad guys followed me home, keeping a safe distance.

I stepped inside my house and exhaled loudly. I could not believe that a modest skirt had excited these cow belt yokels enough to stalk me all the way home. They had not dared cross any lines or force themselves on me. But they had made their desire very clear.

For the next few months, I would occasionally indulge in this exercise. I'd wear something moderately revealing and walk to the grocery store. The nukkad guys would tease or heckle me shamelessly. And I would walk back. Occasionally, a couple of them followed me home. But they didn't cross any lines. At least not then.

At least not until that day when, dressed in a loose t-shirt and track pants, I went running.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

foogy-

Good going
Good ones..
Such stories which usually are so good.. needs more attention, care and frequent updates, otherwise many a times they just die away..
hope you will provide it enough care and attention in the coming days

[Ramesh_Rocky]

I had planned to go to a wooded countryside area past our colony. I had been there with Vinay before when we were taking a stroll and I knew that there were enough beaten paths to form a trail that I could run on. The town itself was small enough and the traffic was less enough that I could run on the streets if I wanted. But as I said, the general atmosphere in the town was not such that a woman could go running on the street without attracting unwanted attention.


I had reached about halfway to the wooded area when the lace on my right shoe came undone. As I bent down to tie it, I noticed something I had not noticed before. The nukkad guys were about 200 meters behind me. As was often the case, they were just randomly following me.

I have never understood the rationale behind this thing many Indian men do. Just creepily follow a woman they desire. Follow her home, follow her to work, follow her to college, follow her everywhere. Exactly what is it supposed to convey or achieve? These guys were no different. It wasn't the first time they had followed me. During our encounters earlier, it had happened many times. Sometimes I would look out the window and see a couple of them just lounging around across my house. They'd catch my eye, give a creepy smile and then exchange high fives. Then a while later, they would be gone.

It seemed similar to the behavior of predators, just circling your prey and getting to know them. Or were they just trying to intimidate me? Or maybe it was a source of entertainment for them, making a high class memsaab nervous or uncomfortable. And I knew that I wasn't the only one on the receiving end of such attention.

A couple of weeks earlier, I was watering the plants in my garden when I saw Sarita walking down the street with a bag of groceries in her hand. Sure enough, two of the nukkad guys were following her. I stood and watched as Sarita, very conscious of being followed, walked inside the gate of her house. The men kept walking past her house. They noticed me and one of them whistled. Sarita turned in response to the whistle and saw me glaring at them.

"Let it be, didi." she said in a soft voice. "Just ignore them."

"Such creeps." I walked to the wall towards Sarita. "Don't they have any jobs?"

"Some of them do. But most of them are just soldiers."

"They are in the army???" I couldn't believe my ears. Army men behaving this way?

"No no didi." Sarita smiled as she looked at the men walk past the end of the street and turn the corner.

"Then?"

"They are soldiers of Billa Yadav."

"Who?"

"The politician. MLA of this area. He's been in jail for a couple of years, but still runs most parts of the town." she said. "And then if you go to the neighboring colony, the nukkad guys are soldiers of Shakoor Haji, who is Billa's biggest rival and from the other party."

"What do soldiers do exactly? Fight each other?"

"Yeah, sometimes. Collect money, intimidate supporters and businessmen, and of course, run the elections." she explained. "Isn't that how things run in Bombay too?"

"Well, yeah, the local parties have their own "soldiers" I guess. And they have a lot of influence and do a lot during the elections. But we never really have day to day encounters with them. At least not in Worli. And they certainly don't act like molesters."

"This isn't Bombay, didi. This is how things operate here. We women who grow up here learn to deal with it."

"So you get followed as well?"

"Yes, followed, catcalled, sometimes........" and her voice tapered off.

"Sometimes?"

"Nothing. You know how men can be." she shrugged and went deep red.

I had no idea what she was implying. I wanted to probe her further but she was already walking inside her house.

As time had gone by, I had started understanding the dynamics and the culture of the cow belt a little better. It was obviously a much more conservative place than Bombay. In some ways, it was also more exciting. And it's not just the nukkad guys and not even staring men. I always got so much attention that I felt like a foreigner. I used to drive the car myself. My neighbors found it very surprising - a woman driving her own car! Most of them had drivers or were driven around by male family members. Even when I went to the vegetable market or to the small mall in the town, I initially got surprise looks from traffic security officer, security guards, and people on the street.

I also wore western clothes very frequently. Most women in the ton wore saris or salwar kurtas, with the occasional loose jeans thrown in. I wore capris, skirts, dresses, nice tops very often. I should stress again that I was never wearing what I considered "skimpy" clothes. But in that sleepy little town, I still turned heads by just showing my shins. Catcalls and heckles weren't limited to just the nukkad guys. Very often I'd be sitting in the car at a traffic signal and a bike would pull up. The men would stare at me blatantly, sometimes make propositions, call me names. I'd ignore them, they'd drive off.

The one thing that bugged me the most about the town was that I had literally no friends. No company to do anything with. In Worli, I had a huge social circle. But I just didn't gel well with anyone here. I had met most people in the neighborhood and many wives of Vinay's colleagues. They were all very traditional homebodies - focused on kids, cooking and soap operas. No one was really great for hanging out with. Additionally, I could see the judgmental look on their face because I often wore western clothes, and never covered my head in the presence of older men.

So I'd spend my days alone, reading books, surfing the net, occasionally going for drives shopping or to the mall, and doing some coding for my company whenever they sent me work. But in just six months, life had settled into a rut. Vinay spent as much time with me as possible. But he was usually exhausted and on his days off, just wanted to relax.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

I fastened my shoelace and stood up. As I walked, I could feel their gaze on my ass, although the track pants were loose and the shirt was long. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw that they were walking a little faster. I turned and looked at them. One of the guys, grinned and cupped his crotch suggestively. He had half his shirt buttons open, showing a toned chest. The guy next to him was big and burly. I could see how he was a political muscleman. He had huge biceps. A couple of other guys walking behind them were nondescript.


I kept walking and finally reached the wooded area. I stretched my ankles one last time and started running. The ground was a little muddy because of the rain the previous day, and there were puddles all over. But there was enough solid ground to run on. I unrolled the earphones from my phone, put them in, and listened to music as I jogged. I focused on my breathing and the muddy path ahead. I was weaving through trees and before I knew it, I had already run 2 kilometers in a circuitous loop around the area. As the beaten path turned around a thicket of trees, I almost ran into the nukkad guys. But I managed to avoid them just in time.

Throwing them a rude look, I jogged past. I could see that they were laughing and saying something. But the music in my ears was on at full blast. Plus I had already heard the kind of lewd comments and catcalls they made. I kept running, but threw one glance back at them. Two of them had their hands raised and were waving them. I just shook my head and turned to look at the road when suddenly, things changed.

The ground gave way under me. The view in front of my eyes shifted from that of trees to that of the blue sky. And my back and my butt landed with a thud on semi-hard ground and I felt myself descending. I had fallen into a pit, about 10 feet deep. The earphones had been knocked out of ears and my phone lay covered in mud a couple of feet away from me. Breathing heavily I reached for it and tried to clean the mud off it by wiping it on my t-shirt.

"Didn't you hear us?" a voice said.

I looked up. The nukkad guys were standing by the edge of the pit.

"What?" I asked.

"When you were running, we yelled out to warn you about this pit." the big burly guy said.

"Oh." I said, standing up uneasily in the soft muddy soil. "I was listening to music."

"Hmpf. Rich high class bitch." the guy who had clasped his crotch earlier said. "She would have ignored us anyway. She thinks people like us are scum."

There was some truth to what he said. But it wasn't my fault. All they ever yelled at me were jeers and innuendo, so why shouldn't I ignore them? I didn't say anything. I looked around for a way to climb out of the pit. The walls were wet and slippery. And kinda steep. The men stood around watching as I walked to the side that looked relatively easier to climb. I supported myself with my hands. And then raised my right leg to put it on what looked like a small rock. But it was just a mound of mud that broke loose under my weight and I fell flat on my stomach. The guys laughed hard.

Almost every part of my body was now covered with mud and water. As I sat on my ass at the bottom of the pit, feeling helpless, I noticed that the guys were all staring intensely at my chest. As loose as the shirt was, the water and mud had made it stick hard along my boobs, outlining them very clearly. Feeling conscious, I pulled at the fabric to stop that effect. And then got up.

"Need some help, memsaab?"

I looked around. It didn't seem like there was any other way out but to rely on their help. I nodded. The big burly brute lay flat on his stomach by the edge of the pit and lowered his tree trunk like hand. It took me a couple of attempts of scrambling up the muddy edge to grab it.

"Hold tight!" he said and started pulling me up. "Wow, the bitch is heavy."

"Half the weight is in those tits." another guy said and joined him in pulling me up as everyone laughed.

I felt angry and humiliated, but I was really helpless. First my head came out of the pit and then my shoulders. Three pairs of hands grabbed me and pulled my slimy muddy wet body out. I was dropped on the floor, finally out of that pit.

"Thank.....WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

I had started to thank them but suddenly yelled out as two pairs of hands, instead of leaving my body started fondling me all over, especially my tits. And then the other two guys crowded around me as well.

"What a body, memsaab."

"Fuck, she's an item!"

"Incredible!!"

One hand had been covering my face preventing me from saying anything as those hands squeezed and pinched my boobs over my wet muddy t-shirt like I was a plaything. Then the big burly man's bearded face came right next to mine and he said.

"You have to pay the price for our help, memsaab!"

The menace in his voice made my blood run cold. I was completely at their mercy out here in the wilderness where no on e could hear me if I cried for help. My phone was wet and probably dead. And the roughness with which the men's hands were exploring my body made me fear the worst.

"Please...." I tried to appeal to their sense of mercy. "Please...I am a married woman."

"So? No one here is proposing to you." came the snide reply.

My arms had been pinned to my side making it impossible for me to fight them off. And then they were let go of. But only so my t-shirt could be slipped off. The mud from the shirt rubbed against my face as the t-shirt was peeled off and now the only thing covering my boobs was the sports bra.

"Amazing!" a face lunged forward and planted itself on the boobs, nuzzling the cleavage. A few fingers had already gone inside the bra cups and were poking around looking for my nipples.

A hand was at my back fidgeting in confusion.

"Where the fuck is the bra hook?" an annoyed voice behind me said. "Is it in the front."

The guy who's cheeks were slapping against my cleavage stopped and stared.

"No, no hook in the front."

"It slips off like a t-shirt."

The men froze with surprise. Because that last sentence had come out of my mouth. I knew I should have been revolted and terrified of what was happening. But a depraved submissive part of me was actually starting to find pleasure in what they were doing. Rough working class hands fondling me all over. The primal instinct in me was starting to overcome the societal instinct. Plus, I reasoned with myself, if I cooperated, they probably wouldn't hurt me.

"Snooty rich bitch has a fancy bra."

I felt fingers being inserted under the side of the bra and it was pulled up. I raised my hands cooperatively, and the clean bra wiped some of the mud off my face as it came out. And so my big heaving globes, milky white, were on display to these randy men.

"WOW!!"

A voice said and I felt a rush as all those hands started fighting to grab and pinch my boobs.

"They always seemed big but I didn't expect them to be this big."

"And so tight too. No sag."

I just closed my eyes and stayed passive as the four men crowded around me playing with my boobs. One pair of hands which had been having trouble fighting the others to get access then started moving downwards. I felt one hand being slipped down my track pants and rubbing my pussy over my panties.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

"Memsaab, you are a little wet!" the main who had invaded my pants said loudly and everyone laughed.


My mind was having trouble keeping track of everything that was happening. My boobs were beginning to hurt with all the fondling and pinching from multiple hands, but my sensitive nipples were painfully erect. A couple of the men had bitten and kissed those nipples. As I tried to focus on what was happening to my boobs, I also registered a hand going down the back of my pants and I felt a rough palm grab my ass. The hand in the front had now slipped inside the panties and was fingering my moistening cunt.

"Please let me go." I begged, despite my body indicating that it was enjoying what was happening. Given Vinay's busy work schedule, I had been starved of sex.

"After you do something about this."

One of the men had unzipped his pants and whipped out a cock. It was erect, dark brown, had a bulbous head covered in foreskin, and was about 6 inches long. I looked at it with fear and fascination. Would this be the dick that invaded my cunt? Or my mouth?

I was a little surprised and relieved when the lifted my hand instead and placed it on the dick. Instinctively, I wrapped my fingers around it. The men noted this and soon other dicks started coming out. My boobs got a little rest as I cooperated by starting to jack off the dick. Soon another dick, this time smaller, was at my other hand. I sat on the countryside path, topless, as I jacked off one cock each with my hands.

"Wow, she knows how to use her hands." I got some positive feedback.

The burly guy meanwhile stood up and put his feet on either side of my thighs. His thick erect cock swung up and down from his crotch right in front of my face.

"Open your mouth." he said.

"Please, not this." I begged. I was never really a fan of blowjobs. Never gave one to Vinay, so I was damned if I was going to give one to this lout. But my situation wasn't really amenable to negotiations.

"Come on." the brute said and his dick, oozing precum, slapped against my cheeks and my nose.

I was still jacking the other two cocks off even as I resisted this attempt to fuck my mouth. The one in my left hand shuddered and I felt warm sticky liquid land on my boobs. The brute's organ was still slapping around my face. I knew I didn't have much of a choice. As the fourth guy's dick replaced his friend's in my left hand, I winced and parted my lips a little. The thick head of the cock immediately pressed inside.

It tasted revolting, like all dicks used to taste. I close my eyes and felt a tear flow down my cheek as the thick dong was thrust all the way in and its head pressed against my tonsils. I had a stranger's cock in my mouth. I felt him place one hand on my head and start pushing the cock in and out, fucking my mouth.

"Suck it, bitch." he said, but I just kept my mouth passively open.

That's when his pocket buzzed and his phone started ringing. He clicked his tongue in annoyance and reached for it, while still keeping his dick inside my mouth.

"It's Billa bhaiyya." he said checking the display.

"Answer it." the guy on my right said.

"Okay, you guys keep quiet." he said and pressed the button. "Namaste bhaiyya....yes....yes.....no.....yes.....now? What about.....okay bhaiyya....no no, it's okay bhaiyya. Yes, right away, bhaiyya."

He disconnected the phone and put it back in his pocket.

"We have to go right away. The brick kiln."

"Right away?" the other guy sounded disappointed.

"Just as soon as I finish this."

I felt both his hands grab my hair now. And he thrust his hips forward. His pubic hair rubbed against my nose, my eyes were pressed against his collarbone as he started fucking my mouth really hard and fast. I felt like gagging and coughing, but his tight grip on my head meant there was little I could do to resist him.

"Press it with your tongue." he ordered, and for some reason, I did.

Soon my mouth was filled with his thick jizz. It swirled around his dick and tried to make its way down my throat. Thankfully, he took his dick out and stepped back. I heaved forward and spat out the semen. It was disgusting. I also coughed and gagged a good deal, in the process letting go of the two cocks I had been giving handjobs.

"Okay, let's go." he said, zipping up his pants.

"But what about us?" the two guys who still had their cocks out and hard whined.

"Later." the brute said dismissively. "Now that we have made friends with memsaab, I am sure she will be nicer."

He patted my head condescendingly as he said that. I was still spitting out the remnants of his semen.

Each of the guys squeezed my naked boobs one last time before zipping up their pants.

A couple of minutes later, I just sat there in disbelief, still topless. Had all that really just happened? Or was I in a bad nightmare? As my heart rate and breathing returned to normal, I put my bra and t-shirt back on. And in a stunned state, started walking back home.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

For the next few days, I was completely on pins and needles. Even Vinay noticed how distracted and jumpy I seemed. For a while, I had considered telling him what had happened. But I didn't, mainly because I was terrified of what he would do. These guys were brutes with political connections. If Vinay tried to pick a fight with them over what had happened, who knows what that could lead to in the lawless cow belt.


I even considered going to the security officer, but did not. Partly because I didn't trust the security officer when it came to dealing with political goons. I had read about how cops end up harassing the victims themselves in such molestation cases. Secondly, all that had happened was handjobs and a blowjob. None of them had even gotten me fully naked, much less have actual intercourse. So i didn't know if it would really hold up as a bang case.

For a couple of days, I just stayed at home. Didn't go out anywhere. I'd nervously keep checking out of the window, fearing that any moment, the guys would come sauntering in to finish what they had started. But luckily, they did not. I wondered if they were nervous too. After all, I was not some local belle they had terrorized. I was, as they said, a high class lady, married to an influential bank manager. Maybe they were worried if I had gone to the cops, I told myself.

"Did you buy me a phone?" I asked Vinay one night as he was having dinner close to midnight.

"No." he answered curtly.

"Why not?"

"Because, Sheetal, I didn't get the time, okay?" he snapped. "You are not working, you have your own car. Why don't you go buy one yourself?"

I didn't have an answer to give him.

Finally on the fifth day after the incident, I mustered up enough courage to leave the house. In the meanwhile, I had noticed a few of the nukkad guys, including a couple of the ones who had pounced on me earlier, walk by the house. Sometimes our eyes would meet. They'd smile or wink. But thankfully never entered the house.

As I walked to the car, Sarita's head popped over the wall.

"How have you been, didi? Haven't seen you around." she said.

"I was a little unwell." I said.

"Going somewhere?" she asked as I opened the car door.

"Yes." I said and slammed the door shut, signalling that I did not want to talk more.

I sat in the car for a couple of minutes mustering strength before I turned the ignition on. Finally I put the car in gear and started driving. My plan was to just step in the pedal hard and speed past the corner where they were sure to be hanging out.

But fate conspired against me. There was a herd of goats around there, so I had no choice but to drive slowly. As my car came into view of the tea stall, I looked at the guys. And they looked at me and smiled. There were 8 or 9 of them. Only two of the four who had been with me that day. The big brute was nowhere to be seen.

I felt terrified as a couple of them started walking towards my car. I honked the horn impatiently at the goat herder who just slowly nodded.

"Hello memsaab." one guy said walking alongside my car. "Missed us?"

I kept looking straight ahead. He didn't like that. He knocked on the window and I instinctively looked at him.

"Want to go back to the woods with us?"

"Please leave me alone." I said in a plaintive voice.

"Show us your tits." another voice said.

Thankfully the goats had moved to the side by then. I stepped on the pedal and sped off as they men hooted and whistled behind me.

Days turned into weeks and nothing untoward happened. I started feeling more and more relaxed about the whole situation. I had been expecting the hammer to fall any day, with those men barging into the house and having their way with me. But when that didn't happen, I convinced myself that the men had decided I was too high class to really harass. I learned later that they were laying low because elections were around the corner and their bosses didn't want any distractions.

Soon, that incident in the woods started seeming like a distant memory. But I still took precautions. I didn't go out walking unless I was with Vinay. For everything else, I just used the car. When I was alone in the car, they would still hoot and holler, but never did anything beyond that. When I'd walk past them with Vinay, they would behave. No hooting or hollering. But there were a lot of grins and winks exchanged, occasionally making eye contact with me.

Once, this caused a bit of a kerfuffle. It was a Saturday evening. Vinay and I were walking to go visit one of his colleagues who lived a few blocks away. I had wanted to take the car but Vinay vetoed the suggestion, saying the house was literally 5 minutes away. That day, there were only 3 guys at the nukkad. One of them had been among my tormentors in the woods. As we approached, the giggling and winking started. Vinay seemed annoyed as he often did, but he usually just ignored them like I did. Just as we walked past them,

"Kya mammey hain, maa kasam!" (amazing tits, I swear)

Vinay suddenly turned around.

"What did you say?" he growled menacingly.

The guys were a little taken aback. They were not used to someone confronting them. And Vinay, at 6 ft 2, with broad shoulders, could make an imposing figure. The three louts were shorter and thinner than him. They were unnerved for a few seconds, but then their bravado returned.

"We were just talking amongst ourselves, saab." one of them said in an arrogant voice.

"I know what you were trying to do." Vinay said, taking a couple of steps towards them.

"Let it be, honey." I whispered, putting a hand on his shoulder. But he was in no mood to back down.

The three guys got up from their seats as Vinay advanced towards them.

"What's the matter, saab?"

"I am sick of useless thugs like you hanging around this nice neighborhood." Vinay said.

"This is a public place, saab." came the defiant reply.

"It might be a public place, but it doesn't give you a right to harass people."

"Harass? We were just making jokes amongst ourselves."

The guy arguing with Vinay had not been in the woods. The one who had been there, threw me a glance. I was behind Vinay, so my husband couldn't see my face. I shot my old "friend" a beseeching glance. His lips curled a little and then he gave a tiny nod.

"Let it go, man" he said puling back his friend who was now standing toe to toe with Vinay, ready for a fight.

"These rich asshole think they own everything!" the guy said but let himself be pulled back. I think he knew that even in a 3-on-1 fight, Vinay might kick their asses.

"Don't use gutter language around us anymore." Vinay shot back. He was feeling a little proud of having made the guys back down.

My old friend had meanwhile pulled the guys back and was leading them away from us.

"Fucking thugs." Vinay said, grabbed my hand, and we started walking.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

That incident shook me a little. I was surprised at Vinay's decision to take them on. He was the one who had grown up in the cow belt, and he was the one who often told me that such thugs are just too much trouble. The best thing is to ignore them, serve our time in this horrible place, and return to Bombay. So I had no idea why Vinay suddenly felt the need to assert himself.


The next couple of times we walked past them, the guys stayed quiet. It seemed like Vinay had won. But I knew that the chapter wasn't fully closed. And sure enough, I had to pay the price for my husband's insolence a week later.

Vinay had invited some colleagues and their wives for dinner. So I had gone to the mandi (vegetable market) one afternoon, in my car. I had a bag full of vegetables in my hand and was examining some mangoes at a shop to make some dessert with, when

"Nice mangoes, huh? Ripe and sweet."

A voice behind me said. Terrified, I turned. Three of the nukkad guys were standing behind me. The guy who had almost fought with Vinay, the guy who had pulled him away, and a third guy I used to see hanging around my house. The fruit-seller seemed to think the question was a serious one and directed at him.

"Yes, very ripe and sweet." he said offering them a sample.

"Big too." another guy said.

"Big? They aren't really very big." the seller said, confused. Then he noticed a couple of them staring at my boobs, which even under a modest and loose kurta, were visible. Since that incident, I had stopped wearing an revealing clothes outside the house. It was strictly salwar kurta, and at the most jeans with a modest top.

"That bag looks heavy, memsaab. Let us help you with it." my old friend approached me.

"It's okay." I said, but he pretty much snatched the bag.

"These mangoes aren't very good." the third guy said. "Memsaab, we'll show you a different shop."

I looked at the three men, and then looked around me. It was the middle of the day, so the mandi wasn't very crowded. The fruit seller had a terrified look on his face. He probably knew who these men were aligned with. He did not seem like the kind of guy who would stick his neck out to protect me. None of the other sellers around looked interested in the scenario. If I raised an alarm, there was no guarantee that it would help.

"Come."

I didn't seem to have much of a choice. I walked between the men, two behind me, one in front, as we made our way through the mandi. If the sellers and other customers found it unusual that a visibly rich high class memsaab was accompanying three known thugs, they certainly didn't show it. Everyone kept their eyes away from us as the men led me to the back of the mandi. There was a big brick structure there used for storage. One of the guys checked a bunch of door, found one that was unlocked, and walked in.

I stood still, terrified at the prospect of being taken inside a dark room. But the guys behind me nudged at my side meaningfully. I was pretty much pushed into the room.

"What do you want?" I tried to sound angry and authoritative when the door was bolted from the inside. Around us were piles and piles of potatoes. The room smelt horrible.

"You know what we want."

"Come on, be reasonable. I am a married woman. You can't do this to me." I pleaded.

It didn't have any effect. One guy stepped up and squeezed my right breast hard.

"I hear you are great at blowjobs." he said.

I tried to slap his hand away, but he put it right back.

"You husband thinks he is very dabangg (brave)?" another guy said steppe forward and touching my boobs. "He thinks he will parade around a tasty dish like you with these huge knockers and we can't even praise them?"

"I apologize for my husband." I said, as those hands squeezed my tits over the kurta. "He was in a bad mood that day."

"We have been in a bad mood since then." the third guy stepped behind me and I felt his hands fiddle with the chain of my kurta.

There was a loud noise as he pulled the zip down all the way to my waist. He then put his rough fingers on my back and rubbed it. I hated myself when this made a shiver of excitement go up my spine. Things in the bedroom had continued to be tepid with Vinay. We had sex at the most once every two weeks, and even that was more of the wham-bam thank you mam variety.

"You have to pay for your husband's arrogance." the guy in front said, putting his hands on my shoulder and pushing me down to my knees.

I tried to struggle a little but it was futile as their hands held my arms and my kurta was taken off. I was now on my knees in just my salwar and a bra. And this time, a mangalsutra resting on my cleavage.

"Wearing a mangalsutra today, huh? Suddenly you're a sati savitri? Where was this that day?"

I blushed at the memory of the previous time these thugs had taken advantage of me.

"I was jogging." I said and tried to change the subject. "Please don't do this to me."

He got on his knees in front of me and played with my mangalsutra before poking a couple of fingers inside my bra. His face came very close to mine. He had a three day stubble. His breath smelled of cheap bidi. As he smiled, I could see his crooked yellowing teeth. And there was a look of wild hunger in his eyes.

"God, you're beautiful." he said.

Then he move his hands to my bare shoulders. And I grimaced as he put his rough chapped lips on mine. I didn't resist but didn't play along either as he kissed me clumsily for a few seconds. Meanwhile the other two men were unzipping their pants and fishing out their dicks. The guy kissing me also unzipped his pants and his dick sprang out, hitting me on my navel. His right hand moved from my shoulder to behind my back. His fingers found my bra hook.

"No fancy bra today either." he said breaking the kiss. He applied pressure and the bra was unhooked, making the bra cups in the front loosen.

"What fancy bra?" his friend asked.

"The other day when we had fun with her in the woods, she was wearing some fancy bra without hooks."

"Really? Why?"

My eyes were closed as the bra was pulled off my body. I felt four different hands attack the boobs right away. Another hand reached for the knot of my salwar. And the sixth hand was rubbing my back making me feel aroused.

"He asked you something." a sharp voice said.

"What?" I opened my eyes, now staring at an erect dick.

"Why were you wearing a fancy bra without hooks?"

"It's a sports bra." I explained. "It is meant to be worn when you're running or doing anything physically active."

"Why?"

"Because the hooks can hurt." I said.

The next minute or so seemed very surreal, as between having my boobs fondled and my salwar being loosened, I explained to them the rationale of wearing sports bras while running. They seemed genuinely intrigued.

"Take this off." one of the guys said pulling at my salwar which was bunched around my knees. Obediently, I lifted one knee at a time, allowing him to pull it off. Now I was wearing only my black boyshorts style panties.

I took stock of the situation. I was nearly naked, on my knees in a room with potato stink. These three young virile men were around me with their dicks hanging out. Attacking my huge tits and pinching my nipples. They seemed intent on having their way with me. But at least they had not hurt me or mistreated me.

I was upset, I was terrified, but I could not deny the fact that I was also feeling aroused. If my panties that day weren't black, the men would have seen a big moist spot forming right over my cunt. I felt a weird pleasant sensation in my loins. And mentally, I did not feel as distressed as I should have been. I clearly had a submissive streak that was being tickled by these encounters. And as I felt that excitement, it was followed by guilt.

"Please let me go." I begged as one of the men held his dick right next to my face.

"Memsaab, you will have fun." the other guy who was jacking off while staring at my tits, said.

"Listen lady." the third guy, who had been with me in the woods said. "This whining and pleading is very off-putting. Let's make a deal."

"A deal?"

"We are men of honor. You suck our dicks and we'll let you go."

Did that mean they wouldn't actually fuck me, I thought. And I don't know if the sentiment behind that was relief or disappointment. As if to confirm what I was thinking, he said,

"That means, no chudai (fucking), at least not today." he said.

"Okay." I said. The deal seemed fair.

"And you suck the dicks properly. Not just keep your mouth open and let us put it in."

"Okay."

The first dick was shoved in my mouth. Keeping up my end of the deal, I started sucking it earnestly. Another dick was placed in my hand. I started jacking it off. And then the third in my other hand. The dicks were all reasonably sized. Not too big, not too small. But they all stank of sweat and urine. I had to fight off many many gag reflexes for the next fifteen minutes or so.

"Mmmmmm!!!" I exclaimed with the dick in my mouth as I felt a hand reach for the waistband of my panties. This was not the deal.

"Relax." the guy peeling my panties down said. "We just want to see that lovely ass you have."

The panties were rolled down to my knees. And two hands, one from either guy that I was jacking off, started playing with my ass.

"Fuck, look at this ass! Round, creamy, smooth, not a blemish. It's like soft marble."

I felt ashamed at feeling flattered by those compliments. Growing up, I got a lot of compliments. But as a marriage grows in age, you don't hear those compliments from your husband.

"Okay, now my turn." the guy on my right said. They rotated their places. he was now in my mouth, while the guy I had been sucking off, was in my left hand. I could feel my spit on his dick as I jacked him off.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

I was feeling like such a trashy whore as I was on my knees, practically naked, servicing three cocks at once. It made me feel ashamed but also incredibly aroused. I knew that if the men broke their word and decided to fuck me anyway, I probably wouldn't resist.


And the first sign of their perfidy came immediately.

"Mmmmm!!!" I moaned in protest as the guy who had been in my mouth and was now on my left, reached down with his left hand and stroked my pussy lips.

"Wet!" he said. And then I was shocked but also pleased when his finger started playing with my clit very skillfully.

I kept moaning and shivering as his fingers gave me pleasure. My entire body shook. And that change in my demeanor proved to be too much for the guy now in my mouth. I had also been using my tongue and lips to pleasure him. I felt his grip on my hair tighten. And he started unloading his seed in my mouth.

"AHHHH!!!!" he groaned as he bucked his hips hard, filling my mouth.

As he stepped back, I just stayed there, bent in my waist, my mouth full of his cum. I was about to spit it out when for some reason, the hygiene freak in me said it was wrong splashing cum around potatoes that someone might it. So even before I realized, I had swallowed the whole load.

"Whoa! She swallowed it!" the guy on my right said moving in front of me.

"What a whore!" the guy on my left said, increasing the pressure on my clit.

"Oooooohhhhhh!!" I moaned in pleasure.

"The bitch is enjoying it!"

I had led a pretty active sex life but never done anything this perverted. The realization of that, combined with the fact that I had swallowed the salty goop, and the fingers at my clit combined to push me over the edge too. I shuddered through a small orgasm, in the process gripping the dick in my left hand really hard.

"Ouch!!!" he complained and spanked my ass, and I loosened my grip.

RAPRAPRAP

There was a sharp knock on the door.

"Why is this door locked? Who is in there?" a male voice said from outside.

My three lovers and I froze.

"Who is it?" the guy who had cum and was now happily leaning against the wall with his pants zipped up said.

"Who is it? Who are you?"

The guy frowned and walked to the door.

"Wait!!!" I protested, but to no avail.

The door was opened, but thankfully not all the way. He stood there blocking the view and there was a short tense conversation. I almost jumped out of my skin when the door was opened wide and a middle aged man walked in with a wheelbarrow.

He saw me and did a double take. And you can imagine why. He saw what was clearly a high class young memsaab, naked except for panties rolled around her knees, with a dick in front of her, and another man's hand on her pussy.

"Don't look at her." one of my lovers said sharply. "Just take your damn potatoes and get out."

I looked into the man's eyes for a couple of seconds before looking away shamefully. The next minute or so was bizarre. I went back to sucking the other dick, and jacking off the third one while the guy who had already cum, got behind me and started fondling my ass. Whatever had happened so far had been restricted to just the nukkad guys. Now an outsider had seen me indulging in this oral play with them.

He took longer than necessary to fill his wheelbarrow with potatoes. he kept staring at me, drinking in the sight of a gorgeous fair skinned young memsaab with big heaving tits. Finally, after the guys yelled at him, he gathered everything together and left. But not before he saw me shudder my way through another orgasm as the skillful fingers continued their work.

Fifteen minutes later, I was slipping my panties back on and reaching for my bra. I had swallowed three loads of cum and had been fingered to multiple orgasms. After the whole thing ended, the three guys were clearly feeling just as awkward as I was. I was surprised and also disappointed that they kept their word. Once I had sucked them all off, I was free to go.

"Keep your husband in control." I got a final word of warning.

They even helped me carry my bags back to the car.

The only wrinkle in the whole situation was that as I walked out of that storage room with the three men and back towards the mandi, I saw a middle aged couple that lived in our colony. They had seen me emerge from the room and were looking at me in shock. I avoided eye contact and kept going.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

I drove home feeling more satisfied than I had felt in months. Vinay was usually good with his fingers and even with his tongue. But lately, sex between us had been very bare bones. So this was the first time I had been satisfied by a man. I was also surprised at how much I was enjoying the "sport" of blowjobs by the time the third dick entered my mouth. It almost seemed like a challenge, to make that dick spurt as soon as possible.


At home, I kept battling guilt. I brushed my teeth and used almost half the bottle of mouthwash to wash away any trace of semen. And yet that night when Vinay came home and kissed me, I was terrified that he would smell cum and confront me.

As the days passed, one fear of mine proved unfounded. Now that they had gotten me to suck their dicks with such little effort and also seen how I was enjoying it for the most part, I expected my life to be turned upside down. I thought the men would start dropping by, have their way with me, neighbors would find out, then Vinay would find out, and then all hell would break loose. None of that happened.

The men kept their distance. They would still whistle and stare when I walked or drove by. And there would occasionally be a one of them lounging outside my house. But they seemed to be respecting my general constraints of being a married woman. Every time I went anywhere alone, I expected one of the nukkad guys to spring out and take me to a dark room. But nothing of the sort happened.

Not all was hunky-dory though. It was clear that rumors of my dalliances had spread at least a little. Every time I went to the mandi, some of the sellers would have meaningful smiles, although they didn't say anything to me. Sometimes one of them would say something to another seller about the potato storage room. I would blush and they would smile. So among that class, stories about my encounter that day seemed to have spread.

Even in our colony, I started noticing a lot of suppressed smiles and judgmental frowns from neighbors when they passed by. Even when I went to a restaurant or the mall, I felt that I was getting a lot of knowing glances. This was an incredibly tiny town where everyone knew everyone. And everyone loved gossiping. I was just wondering how long it would be before Vinay heard something.

I had now started feeling comfortable enough with the nukkad guys' sense of discretion and honor to walk past them. Clearly, there was an unsaid agreement. They respected my familial constraints and my position in society. Once in a while when I walked by, one of them would walk alongside and proposition me.

"Memsaab, want to have some fun? We can go to the woods again."

or

"Memsaab, I can't wait to play with your tits."

or

"Memsaab, I still dream of how your tongue played with my dick."

I would ignore them or blush and shake my head. Apart from persisting with those proposition, they didn't take any further steps. In the initial days, there was a bit of disappointment from my side. I was sex-starved so a part of me was hoping for more such adventures. But that part was being overruled by the sensible, rational, faithful side. I started feeling relieved that the whole chapter seemed to be behind us.

I also started getting a lot of coding work from my ex-employer. So my mind wasn't really empty enough to be a devil's workshop. I would get up, make lunch for Vinay to take to work, then get ready, and start coding. Other than breaks for food and an occasional yoga work-out at home, I would be busy coding until Vinay returned. Things seemed to have attained a normal, almost mundane equilibrium.

I had no idea how drastically things were about to change.

One Saturday....a rare Saturday when Vinay had the day off.....we got a visit from a painter named Bajwa. Painter as in, house and walls, not Van Gogh. This house that we were living in was an old one. We had bought it as is for a cheap price, but it needed a lot of work. We had enough savings to pay for the house outright. Vinay's financial minded plan was to renovate the house, and then sell it for a profit when we moved back to Bombay.

One thing the house really needed was a new coat of paint. The walls looked like they hadn't been painted since the 80s. After asking around, Vinay learned that this Bajwa fellow was the best of the lot. He was in his 50s, short and pudgy, with a very innocent earnest face and a mild manner. That Saturday, Vinay and I escorted him throughout the house as he looked at the walls and did calculations. We then went to his store and picked out the colors to have our house repainted.

Bajwa gave us the final estimate and said the whole thing would take about a week with two painters working with him. Vinay was delighted at the estimate because it was way cheaper than he had expected. He marveled again at how much cheaper everything was in this town compared to Bombay.

"If you want, you can go to Bombay for a week while they repaint the house. I'll be at work, but you'll have to deal with the smell of fresh paint." Vinay generously said.

"No honey, it's okay. I have a lot of coding work lined up. If I go to Bombay, most of the time will be spent meeting friends and relatives."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

I rewind to this conversation often. Because I keep thinking how differently things would have turned out if I had followed Vinay's suggestion.

The next day, Vinay left for work early as usual. It was an unusually hot day so I was wearing a skirt. At home, I always dressed for comfort. In my interactions with Bajwa, I had noticed how he was one of the few non-creepy guys in this town. He did not steal glances at my chest or my butt. Very decent, very professional. So I did not hesitate wearing a skirt in front of him. At 10 am, I got an SMS from Bajwa saying he was almost here. I went outside the door and stood at the gate to receive him.

A small tempo pulled up in front of the gate with Bajwa's smiling face in the passenger seat window. I smiled back and opened the gate.

"Good morning, memsaab." he said, unloading his pudgy self from the seat.

"Good morning, Bajwaji." I said, smiling.

But that smile disappeared when I saw who got down from the other side of the tempo. It was two of nukkad guys. I knew them well by sight. Neither of them had been with me in the woods or in the mandi. But from the leery smiles on their faces as they followed Bajwa, it was obvious that they knew everything.

"Umm....these guys...." I said, trying to stay calm.

"These are the two guys who will be working with me." Bajwa said, walking past me.

I ran after him, not wanting to be left alone with the two louts. But they followed us in.

As Bajwa talked about the schedule for the week, I studied his face. Did he know? It did not seem so. I am sure most of the town was talking about me, but I detected nothing sinister in Bajwa's demeanor. I followed him around as the two smiling nukkad guys walked behind us, listening to his instructions about the job.

"Memsaab, you can get on with your work." Bajwa said. "We'll just be mixing the paints in the verandah first. If I need anything, I will call you."

"Okay, Bajwaji." I said and turned to leave. As I did, I saw one of the guys snicker a little and wink at me.

I walked away feeling a huge sense of panic. What were these thugs doing here? Even if it had been one of the guys from earlier, I would have felt okay. They seemed to stay within their limits. But these two just seemed more obnoxious. Even earlier when I would walk past the nukkad, these were two of the most foul-mouthed ones. And now they would be in my house for an entire week? I hoped the decent Bajwa's presence would deter them from trying anything.

I went to the bedroom and started working on the latest coding job. But I was too distracted to do any real work. Too many errors were creeping up. I could hear the two men and Bajwa moving around the house and in the verandah. Half an hour passed and nothing untoward happened. I felt thirsty to I went to the kitchen to get a drink of water.

As I opened the fridge and took out a bottle of cold water, I heard some footsteps. I turned around. It was one of the nukkad guys.

"Namaste, memsaab. Looking delicious today!" he said, staring at my chest.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Mast669-

Shiprat buddy this is simply awesome ... plz involve some old men having filthy sex with memsaab and memsaab stasifying all their carnal desires. Make her marry to them secretly and then she is doing all their household chores while having sex all over the place. Please be it never ending saga

[Ramesh_Rocky]

"Wh....what are you doing here? What do you want?" I said, trying to sound authoritative. This guy was in my house after all, as just an employee of a guy I had hired.


"You know what I want." he said, taking big strides in my direction.

I looked behind him, hoping to see Bajwa walk in. But no such luck. Surely this guy wouldn't try to force himself on me while Bajwa was around?

"Relax." he said, as if reading my mind. "Bajwaji is busy mixing paint. My other friend will keep him busy."

"But...."

Before I could say anything, he was right in front of me. His hands were fondling my boobs over my top. And he had pushed me in the narrow corner between the fridge and the kitchen counter.

"I can't tell you how happy I was when Bajwaji told us this was the house we'd be working on." he said as his fingers started unbuttoning my top. "I have heard so much about your perfect boobs. Can't wait to see them."

"Please, why are you doing this?" I tried to fight him off but to no avail.

Soon he had my entire top unbuttoned and was scoping my tits out of my bra. I was now pressed against the counter in my own home, my tits on display as his lips and teeth attacked them.

"Oh wow, they were right. This is heaven."

I tried to resist. He overpowered me easily. He was a lot more forceful than his friends.

"What if Bajwaji sees us?" I tried to appeal to his sense of propriety.

"He won't. He is busy." he said, between harsh bites administered to my boobs.

"Please, don't do this." I begged.

"Okay listen." he said, grabbing my cheeks. "We all know you love this stuff. So why are you pretending to be a sati savitri? I hear you like deals. So here's the deal. Just jack me off quickly and I will go away and start working."

He fished his dick out of his pants and said. It was surprisingly thick. I looked at it and automatically, my hand went to it.

"Okay, but please be fast." I said, a little annoyed. So far the men had been very discreet. This was very risky. In my own house? With an outsider like Bajwa? I was not happy but the deal seemed like the best way to

And there I was, in the middle of another faustian deal. Why was this happening to me again, god, I wondered. What had I done wrong? I had never harmed anyone in my life. I played by the rules. And now here I was, getting taken advantage of again. All because I went for a run and slipped and fell down a pit? That couldn't be.

I turned my mind from self-pity to dealing with this situation. He had said that if I jacked him off, he would leave me alone. So my hand moving rapidly, I focused on that. The main goal was to get him off as soon as possible. If that meant bearing his assault on my boobs, so be it. When he started pulling up my skirt and reached inside my panties saying,

"Memsaab, I have heard you are totally bald down there."

I let him do it. When he slid my panties down to my thighs and started fingering my cunt artlessly, I let him, all the while keeping my eyes closed and with my hand, working on his dick. When he grabbed my waist and placed my ass on the counter, I let him do it, and I also let him take my panties off completely. And I started feeling a strong sense of pleasure as his fingers fucked my cunt hard.

"What the FUCK are you doing????"

As I heard that loud voice, I opened my eyes and saw Bajwa standing there at the kitchen door. Imagine the sight Bajwa saw. A young pretty high class memsaab perched on her own kitchen counter. Her top open and her boobs obscenely hanging out of the bra with a pair of lips attached to them. Her thighs spread apart and her skirt pulled up to her waist and his employee's fingers buried inside her cunt.

"Bajwaji, help!" I said, but my voice sounded so throaty.

"Are you seriously banging a client?" Bajwa said angrily, taking strides towards us.

My tormentor was taken aback by the interruption for a couple of seconds, but he quickly recovered.

"Memsaab and I are friends, boss. I am just satisfying her." he said, not taking his fingers out of my cunt.

Bajwa was taken aback and stopped a few feet away from us. His eyes were locked on my naked breasts. Finally he turned his gaze up at my face.

"No Bajwaji, it's not like...."

I started saying, but I couldn't finish my sentence because the guy keeping me pressed on the counter decided this was the time to kiss me. The now-familiar stench of bidis filled my senses as his lips engulfed mine. All the while, his fingers kept fucking my cunt. This weird kiss lasted almost a minute, leaving me breathless. And despite the unpleasant situation, my body continued responding to the finger-fucking.

When he finally broke the kiss and pulled away, I inhaled deeply and looked at Bajwa. The short pudgy man was standing resting against the dining table, his eyes as wide as can be. He was still trying to process the scene of one of his lowly employees engaged in such things with his high class client. We just kept staring at each other as I breathed heavily.

Meanwhile the other nukkad guy walked in the door and grinned.

"Tell me something, boss." the guy grabbing me said. "Look at her face. Look at her legs. Look at her hand still wrapped around my dick. Does it look like I forced myself on her?"

I took my hands off his dick right away and tried to push him, but it didn't work. Bajwa had not said anything but was just staring at me in shock. The other guy meanwhile walked past him and fondled my tits as well. He then said,

"She is just shy because we walked in on her like this. But trust me boss, this memsaab is a slut."

I felt so ashamed by all their gazes that I just closed my eyes. I felt the fingers continue fucking me. I knew that there was no way to talk myself out of this situation. My tits were still heaving up and down because of the momentum of the fingering.

"Doesn't she have magnificent tits? Have you seen tits like this except in a dirty magazine?"

"No." Bajwa said in a voice deeper than usual.

I opened my eyes and saw that he now had a sizeable erection in his pants. I couldn't bear the shame of this decent respectable man continuing to see me in such a state and getting aroused by it. I closed my eyes again and wished this was all just a bad dream.

"Don't her pink nipples look super erect?"

"They do." Bajwa said.

I opened my eyes again and noticed that the look on Bajwa's face had gone from scandalized shock to hungry anticipation. He kept licking his lips and staring at my tits and my cunt. Why god why, I said in my mind.

"We both know how hard you work, boss." the other guy said, stroking my left thigh. "You deserve a reward once in a while. And this slut is ready and willing. Let's have some fun with her before we paint her house. Trust me, she'll enjoy it too."

I cringed at the matter-of-fact way in which this was said. But they were right. I hadn't really resisted the guys at any point. Sure, I had put up a bit of a fight, but every time, I let them do as they pleased.

"Here boss, taste her cunt." the guy fingering me said, removing his fingers. There was an ugly farting noise as air rushed in.

"What the hell?" I heard Bajwa say as he started taking his pants off. In 4 seconds, the short pudgy man was standing there in just his paint stained shirt.

"Wow boss, you are fast. Hehe."

Bajwa approached me, still looking a little tentative. I tried to move but could not, pinned in the corner. My skirt was all rolled up. My moist pussy was fully visible. My thighs were parted. I tried to close them, but the other guy was holding on to my ankle.


"Amazing." Bajwa said, stepping forward. I saw his dick carefully. It was amazingly thick. Only 5-6 inches but as thick as my wrist. He bent down in the waist and I felt his tongue lick my pussy lips. I shuddered.

"See, she is one horny memsaab."

"Clearly." Bajwa said, stroking his dick.

I was staring at Bajwa with what I thought was a plaintive expression on my face. He looked back with a hungry expression. His puffy cheeks jiggled as he smiled. Leaned back against the wall, I could see his triple chin shake too. As he purposefully grasped his dick and stepped forward, I suddenly understood what was going to happen. As did the other guys.

"No no wait!!!" I cried out.

"Boss, listen..." the other guy said.

But short pudgy Bajwa moved at a rapid pace. Until then, the nukkad guys had never actually had intercourse with me. Or to put it in other words, they had never bangd me. They did everything else, but not that. I was later told that this was not because of some great code of honor, but just a practical decision. With the elections approaching, if I did go to the cops, I would not have a strong case without the presence of semen in my vagina. They had been saving that treat for until after the election when they would well and truly control the security officer.

But obviously, Bajwa was not one of those minions. He had no idea about this rule. He saw a nearly naked hot woman with her legs spread apart and her cunt being fingered, and he did not assume there were any boundaries.

So within a split second, Bajwa stepped forward and rammed his thick member straight up my cunt. I cried out in pain and pleasure, unable to believe how much he was stretching my cunt.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

"Bajwaji, don't!" I pleaded, trying to push him away with my hands. The other guy, after his futile attempt to stop the penetration had stepped back. I was now perched on the counter, my head resting against the wall, trying to come to terms with Bajwa's girth.


"Shut up!" Bajwa revealed his ugly arrogant side and slapped my hand away.

All the collections of fat on the man's body, from his puffy cheeks to his multiple chins to his ample stomach covered by the shirt, jiggled in the same rhythm as my big tits as he started fucking me like a dog in heat. He put both his hands on my boobs and stepped up the pace.

"AAAAA....please.....slow....it's so thick!!!" I cried out, but was met with a slap across my face.

The two nukkad guys were just standing there behind Bajwa, their dicks out, watching as the short pudgy painter pounded the cunt of a tall voluptuous high class woman. They had intended to stop him from the deed, but now that the deed was done, they probably thought that stopping him was futile. I think their decisions were also shaped by my demeanor.

Because within a minute or so, I had gone from reluctance to enthusiasm. In my mind, I rationalized it by saying that I had been forced by these three men in my house against my will, and now that the unthinkable had happened, no point in continuing to resist. The girth of Bajwa's dick and the pleasure it gave me played a big role in changing my mind. Because with each stroke, I was filled with an ecstatic sense of satisfaction.

Ever since Vinay's career troubles started, I had not been properly fucked. The sex had been perfunctory and rare. So the sheer carnal intensity of this encounter, coupled with the depraved wrongness of the situation, tickled the devil inside me. And I pretty much embraced the situation. My legs were parted and in the air. I wrapped them around Bajwa's back and pulled him in, grunting in the process.

"See boss, the slut loves it!!" the other two guys exchanged high fives.

Bajwa didn't respond. He kept pummeling my cunt with intense concentration, staring straight into my eyes. I stared back noticing the beads of sweat forming on his face on that hot day. The sweat dropped down on my boobs. I rubbed it absent-mindedly.

All this while, I had been groaning and grunting in delight at this fast paced fucking. I could sense a wave of pleasure forming inside me. And soon I knew I was about to have an orgasm.

"Harder." I said hoarsely.

Bajwa complied. His ample tummy pushing against his shirt jiggled over my flat stomach as he started fucking me even harder.

"OH FAAAACCKKKKK!!!!!" I cried out as the orgasm hit me, wondering if Sarita could hear me.

"Wow!!!" Bajwa grunted and started bucking his hips even harder.

The sight of watching a gorgeous young memsaab roughly half his age quake through an orgasm was too much for him to keep going. I could feel the thick rod penetrating me start oozing cum. My head banged hard against the walls, hard enough to later form a bump. Bajwa squeezed my tits really hard as he came, making me wince in pain. We both came together making some really loud obscene noises as the two nukkad guys watched in fascination.

Finally we both stopped shaking. Bajwa bent down and kissed me clumsily. I was overcome with orgasmic ecstasy so I kissed him back although I instantly felt guilty. After kissing me for a while more and playing with my tits, Bajwa stayed on top like that, his dick still inside me. I could feel it contracting.

"Come on, boss. Give us a turn too." the guy who had fingered me whined.

"I want to bang her on her bed. These rich people have amazing soft beds." the other guy said.

Bajwa finally stepped back after one last kiss. I was feeling half-drunk from the intensity of the orgasm that had just hit me. I was still folded up on that kitchen counter, my legs in the air, my shaved pussy on display as Bajwa's copious cum dripped out and fell on the floor. With some effort, I rolled off the counter and stood on the floor on shaky knees.

I don't know who was more surprised, me or them, when I stabilize myself and then started walking out the room. My skirt was still rolled around my waist, so with my panties off, they could see my round ass as they walked behind me. The top was still hanging off my shoulders, so I took it off. The bra was still on, although not doing its job because my tits were spilling over it.

When one of the guys took my skirt off while walking, I let him do it. Now I was leading these three working class men through my house, clad only in a bra with the cups rolled down. If someone saw the sight, they would find it so trashy. A high class young memsaab acting like a whore.

I led them to the guest bedroom. They wanted a soft bed. It had a soft bed. I still did not want to let them fuck me on the very bed my husband and I shared. Despite my recent descent into depravity, that seemed too much.

"Boss, how much did you cum inside her? She is still leaking!" one of the guys said as we walked.

He was right. The cum had been streaming down my thighs the whole time. I made a mental note to clean up all the spilled bits later.

"You two are young bucks fucking women all around." Bajwa said, fondling my ass. "I am an old ugly man with an old ugly wife. I obviously had a lot of juice saved up."

[Ramesh_Rocky]

I was running. Running hard. Running fast. Pumping my fists and raising my arms. My lungs ached a little with the need for air. The salty spray of the Arabian sea hit me a little. I kept running. Trying to chase away all my inner demons. As I ran along the seaface, I came across a group of 4 men sitting and talking. They noticed me approach. First the smallest guy. Then another. Soon all four sets of eyes were staring at me. Specifically, staring at my chest as my big boobs rose and fell.


As I neared them, I felt a sense of panic. It was almost like PTSD. I felt my heart beat even faster. Would they jump me, force me to do what they wanted? I slowed down a little, staring back at them. One guy smiled. I kept a poker face. I ran past them. No one moved. I glanced back and saw that they were now staring at my ass. I tried to imagine the fantasies that were running through their heads as they saw my shapely maintained butt covered in tight spandex shorts. What did they want to do to me? What did I want them to do to me. I kept running as the path turned. I looked ahead.

Another set of men. Another bunch of staring eyes. Another mini panic attack. I kept running.

An hour later, I walked inside my parents' apartment. My mom heard me come in.

"Sheetal, is that you?" she asked from the kitchen.

"Yes, ma." I answered, taking my shoes off.

"How was your run?"

"Pretty good. Did 15K."

"Very good, beta." she said. "Vinay called. Asked you to call him back right away."

"Okay." I said.

Drenched in sweat, I sat on my old bed. Reached for the phone. I wondered if I should shower first. Nah, that would make him even more impatient. Might as well get it over with.

"Hey honey." I said when he answered the phone.

"There you are." he sounded a little miffed. "Where were you?"

"Out for a run."

"Hmm....so...what's the plan? I got your sms saying you postponed the tickets again?"

"Yes, sorry about that. It's just that.....Priti has this party and...." I stopped to take a deep breath. Lying took effort.

"Listen, Sheetal." he sounded serious. "If you just want to stay in Bombay permanently, come out and say it. I won't hold it against you."

"No, it's not like..." and I stopped. I remembered that these were the very words I had said to Bajwa when he caught me fooling around with his underling.

"It's not like what? It has been almost two months." he sounded annoyed. "I miss you."

"I miss you too, Vinay." I said. How could I explain to him why I kept postponing my ticket?

"I know this place isn't very exciting or fun. But we took this decision together. If you want to back out and stay there, that's okay. But then just tell me that. Enough of these excuses of Priti's party and maasi's party and all."

"I am sorry, Vinay." I said, wiping away a tear that spilled out.

"Don't be sorry. Just be honest." he said.

And an avalanche of words bounded down to me throat but stayed stuck there. Be honest? If I were to be honest, there was so much I had to tell him. So much I wanted to tell him. But how could I?

How could I tell him the way I calmly, even eagerly led the men to our guest room. How could I tell him that some random guy whose name I didn't even know, had first fingered me in the kitchen and then mounted me on that guest bed? That when he said to me, "get on your hands and knees memsaab, I want to fuck you like a dog fucks a bitch", I barely flinched and obeyed him. I didn't just obey him. I was proactive. I got on all fours, thrust my ass up, and parted my knees for better access.

"What an insatiable slut!" he had said as he climbed on top of the bed.

As his dick had entered my sopping cunt, I had groaned happily, wanting him to pound me hard. When his buddy had gotten on the bed and kneeled in front of me, I had started sucking his dick without any prodding. Bajwa had chuckled when he saw me getting banged on both ends in my own house. He had sat next to me and given a frank assessment,

"I didn't recognize it before when I met her, but this lady is a whore. Look at that trashy expression on her face. Look at how her as pushes back as you fuck her. And look at how her fingers are cradling those balls. She may act all high and mighty, but she is basically just a whore. A whore we will fuck nicely for the next week."

Next week? Even with that dick ramming my cunt and pleasing me, I had felt dread at the prospect of spending the whole week as the plaything of these men. I couldn't do that. Then, as if to make matters worse, Bajwa took his phone out of his pocket and started snapping pictures. This was the ultimate degradation. Now there was photographic evidence of me being happily fucked at both ends. And then just to make matters even more dire, he took a video. I was going to be like hundreds of women who find their most intimate moments splashed across the internet.

Once the three men all got done fucking me, I lay on the bed exhausted.

"Come on, let's get back to work." Bajwa said in his boss voice. "We might be fucking her, but her husband is the one paying us."

The rest of the day had been a tornado of conflicting emotions and experiences that were degrading and exhilarating. I had naively thought that once the men had fucked me once each, they would leave me alone. But that soon proved to be wrong. I had taken a shower and dressed in a demure salwar kurta to not entice them anymore. But now that the men had seen me naked for such a long time, they didn't need further enticement.

I was sitting in the study, working on my coding work when Bajwa ambled in a couple of hours later as if he owned the place.

"Memsaab, we've got the paint all mixed up and we have started on the outhouse first." he said nonchalantly, as if he had not just bangd me in my own house a while ago.

"Okay." I said without making eye contact.

Bajwa just stood there at the door. I kept staring at the screen and typing. It was like a game of chicken.

"God, you are so gorgeous." he finally said and approached me. "Not even in my wildest dreams did I think I would get to bang a beauty like you."

Finally I had to make eye contact with him.

"Please Bajwaji, what have I ever done wrong to you? These men forced themselves on me, and instead of saving me, you joined in? I thought you are a good man."

"I am a good man, memsaab." he said, sounding hurt. "I would have stopped it if it didn't look like you were enjoying it yourself."

"I was not." I protested. But he ignored me.

"You know, when I heard those rumors about you, I dismissed it all as idle chatter among the jobless."

"What rumors?" I sharply asked.

"That you are Billa Yadav's whore and he and his men regularly fuck you. Including once in the mandi in front of everyone."

"I haven't even met Billa Yadav." I said truthfully.

"So you weren't fucked in the mandi?"

"No! I mean...." why was I weighing degrees of truth when talking to this git "...I didn't get fucked but..."

"But what?"

"They made me use my mouth." I said.

"Haha, use your mouth. Such safe language. Why are you acting like you're some pure innocent damsel? I watched you suck that dick hungrily. Right in this house."

I had no response to that.

"Speaking of which....that's why I came here. Those guys have been talking about what a great cocksucker you are."

I closed my eyes, but still heard the zipper go down. I heard him come towards me.

"Be a good girl and open your mouth."

I winced and did as was told.

Those men had their way with me all day during their "breaks". Every other hour, they would come in, either alone or in pairs, and do as their heart pleased. Throughout the day, I was fucked hard, made to suck their dicks, my boobs were pinched and squeezed, my nipples were bitten and squeezed, I was spanked hard on my nice round ass a couple of times. I am ashamed to admit that as much as I hated everything they did, a big part of me enjoyed it too. I had a handful of orgasms throughout the day. And it wasn't just the sex.

Being in that helpless subservient position seemed to tickle that evil submissive instinct inside me. I cannot shake off the feeling of satisfaction I got when Bajwa stood over me as I was naked on my knees, and sprayed his seed all over my face. Then ordered me to keep it like that until it dried. It was only an hour later that I was given "permission" to clean it up.

Finally, after a goodbye fuck each, the three men left. I was exhausted. But I had to go take a long shower to wash off any evidence of their acts. I kept thinking about what Bajwa had said - that they had me for a whole week. I could not imagine how much I would lose myself if things continued like that for a whole week.

So as soon as Vinay got him, I told him he was right. The smell of the paint had been too strong. I wanted to go to Bombay for the week. He was very sweet and understanding about it. We booked a flight ticket for me online from the closest city and he drove me there himself in the morning.

A week had turned into two weeks had turned into two months. I kept postponing my return ticket. With each passing day, the past seemed like a forgotten dream. But I knew that I couldn't abandon my husband like that. The next day, I was going back to the cow belt.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

foogy-

it is better to keep the secret limited to a close circuit and leave the husband out as it just increases the stakes and the ways or lengths one has to keep it under wraps.
Humiliating and degrading her/you is probably what gets her submissive feelings and juices flowing .. so good going

[Ramesh_Rocky]

posted up to 5th page

[Ramesh_Rocky]

I was sitting in Bombay airport waiting for my flight to start boarding. I was not thrilled at the prospect of returning to the cow belt and all the complications that lay there. I hated that tiny town and the men in it. I had already been exploited a couple of times and the three men banging me in my own house had been the ultimate insult. And I still remembered how Bajwa taken a bunch of pictures and videos during those fuck sessions. It seemed inevitable that more people would find out.


In Bombay, I kept obsessively checking all amateur Indian porn sites where such pictures and videos were posted. Every time I saw a thread advertising a housewife getting fucked by multiple men, I'd click on it, and be convinced it was going to be me until the screenshots proved otherwise. But luckily, I never came across the evidence of my debauchery. I felt relieved and assumed that as vile as Bajwa had acted in forcing himself on me, at least he had the decency to not spread the visual evidence all around town. Checking on all those videos made me realize though that the trope of a high class woman fucking a working class guy was a very popular one. I saw the faces of all those women in the videos and wondered how they were dealing with the aftermath of their mistakes.

I tried to seek some comfort in the fact that my naked body was not splashed across the internet. But there was still the other inconvenient fact that lots of men had had their way with me and in that small town, my reputation as a high class slut was probably well-established. How was I going to deal with it all? I had decided to pretty much become a home body. Once Vinay picked me up at the airport and dropped me home, I decided, I would not leave the house unless absolutely necessary. And hopefully the nukkad guys and others would leave me alone.

Just as I was thinking all this, my phone rang. It was Vinay.

"Hi honey." I said happily. "I am waiting to board the plane. Can't wait to see you."

"I can't wait to see you either, Sheetal." he said. "But there's a slight change of plans."

"Oh....what happened?"

"I had taken the day off to come pick you up. But there's a big crisis here that I have to stay on top of. So I am sending one of the drivers here at the bank to pick you up."

"Oh....is everything okay?

"Yeah, just an issue with the servers. I am sending this young fellow named Raza. He will be at the gate holding a sign with your name on it."

"Okay." I said, battling paranoia. Every man from that town seemed like a threat now. But I couldn't really tell Vinay why I was objecting to something as mundane as having a driver pick me up.

"I gotta go. See you later." he said and hung up.

Throughout the flight, I tried to calm myself down. He was just a driver. A driver who worked for my husband. Even if he had heard something about me through the town rumor mills, surely he wouldn't dare try something fresh with his boss's wife.

When I landed and walked out the gate, I spotted the tall muscular man in a white driver's uniform holding a "Mrs. Sheetal" sign right away. As I walked towards him, I struggled to control my paranoia again. He seemed like a big guy and if he did try something, I wouldn't be able to fight him off. When I approached him, his eyes turned.

"Sheetal memsaab?" he asked and smiled. I detected something loaded in the smile and started worrying again.

"Yes. Did Vinay send you?" I asked, keeping my voice calm.

"Yes memsaab. My name is Raza. Let me get that."

He bent down to take the suitcase from my hand. As he did that, I felt his big hands rub against mine before I took mine off. And I felt a tiny jolt of electricity rush through my entire being. I also got the sense that as he picked up the suitcase and straightened,his eyes lingered a little longer than necessary on my chest and then my legs.

When I got ready that morning, I had expected Vinay to come pick me up. So I didn't really care much about what I was wearing. I had chosen a snug comfortable t-shirt and a denim skirt that ended just above my knees. If I had known I would instead be met by a stranger, I would have dressed more conservatively. But the last minute plan change had meant that he got a nice glimpse at my toned and shaved legs.

As we walked out of the terminal, I stayed quiet. Raza kept glancing at me and I got the feeling he was suppressing a smile. My paranoia started acting up again.

"Did you enjoy in Mumbai, memsaab?" he asked. The stress on the word "enjoy" seemed strange.

"It was okay."

"You must find our town very boring compared to Mumbai." he continued.

"A little."

"But I am sure you find ways to do timepass." he said and there again, was that suppressed smile.

I didn't say anything. We walked into the parking lot, and my brain was filled with all kinds of dire possibilities. From the way he talked, I was sure he had at least heard some rumors about me. I would be in a car at his mercy for about 2 hours. Many scary scenarios presented themselves. Maybe he'd just drive me to a remote location and force himself on me. Maybe a coterie of his friends was waiting anxiously to bang the slutty memsaab. Maybe I would just be kidnapped. With every second, the paranoia kept growing.

We finally reached the car. It was an old white ambassador. Raza put my suitcase in the trunk and then held the door of the back seat open for me to get in. In his white uniform, he almost blended into the background with the white car. His dark brown face was expressionless. But still, I kept reading vile intentions in it.

"Have a seat memsaab." he said when I just stood there dumbly for several seconds.

"No. Give me the keys. I will drive." I said, acting on a brainwave I had.

In a couple of seconds, I realized that the best way to stay in control of the situation was if I drove. That way, there would be no unplanned detours or stoppages. I would just drive the whole way home and be safe.

"What?" he seemed confused. The idea that a woman he was supposed to be driving might want to drive the car herself probably seemed alien to his small town conservative mind.

"I said I will do the driving." and held out my hand for the keys.

"What are you saying, memsaab? I am the driver. You must be tired from the flight. What will saab say when he hears that you had to drive?"

"The flight was not long enough for me to get tired. And saab won't mind. Now give me the keys."

Raza seemed very reluctant to let me drive. We argued back and forth for a minute or so until I raised my voice and he unhappily handed me the keys. I got in on the driver side. Raza got in the other side and sat there, looking either disappointed or worried by this turn of events. That again made me suspect that maybe he had planned a detour.

For a moment, I considered just leaving him behind and asking him to take a bus back. But even in that paranoid state, it seemed extreme. Besides, the car looked old and if it were to have a flat tire or a breakdown, his brawn would be useful. So I let him sit in the car.

Once in the car, I examined my surroundings. The first thing that struck me was that like all old ambassadors, this one just had one long seat in the front. I was used to driving newer cars where the seats were separated with the gear box in the middle. I also ran my hands over the gear levers on the side of the steering wheel and checked the clutch, accelerator, and brake pedals with my feet.

As any Bombay girl would do by habit, I reached behind me right shoulder for the seat belt. But there was nothing there. This old car had no seat belt and unlike Bombay, the cow belt did not have rules requiring seat belt. I threw a glance at Raza. He was sitting leaning against the window with a miffed expression on his face. And he was watching me familiarize myself with the car. Finally I put the keys in the ignition. And tried to turn the car on. The engine made a few weird noises, but refused to come to life.

"It's an old car, memsaab, let me drive." Raza said as he saw me have trouble even starting the damn thing.

"Don't worry about it." I said and turned the ignition again, stepping on the brakes.

"Let me help you." he said and suddenly slid over.

I was taken aback at the speed with which he moved. The car having a long uninterrupted seat meant that in one slide, his thighs were touching mine and his face was right in front of my eyes as he leaned over and put his hand over mine.

I felt my pulse quicken at the proximity to this hunky muscular guy so close to me. Part of me was screaming that he was too close. The other part was relishing his presence, observing his high cheekbones, and inhaling his masculine sweaty scent.

"Press on the break hard. Really hard. Very hard." he said, his lips just inches from my ear. "There you go!"

The engine came to life and the car started. Raza took his hands of my hand. His face was still right next to mine. It seemed a little tense. But he cracked an uneasy smile as he stared into my eyes.

"Now you step on the clutch, and then here..." he moved his hand to my hand which was on the gear shaft.

"I know how to drive a car." I snapped at him.

"Okay, memsaab." he shrugged and with a fleeting glance at my boobs, slid back to the other edge of the seat.