Adultery Indian Wife and the Nukkad Guys by shiprat

[Ramesh_Rocky]

needhot-

wowwwwwwwwwwwwwwww


I have no words to describe my feelings, it was soooooo hot


After a long time i read each updates repeatedly again n again and cummed continuously


Earlier it was happened while reading aurelius1982 and urbansult stories only.


Thanks for the wonderful script and erotic words.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

The party, if you can call it that, was lumbering along.


"So you see, these are really top notch world class products from America. The best. Not like the adulterated lead-filled nonsense you get in stores here." the woman droned on, taking bites from the samosa in between.

"Oh ok." I said, trying to sound politely interested.

"And the margins are really good! I mean, I recruit people, and then they recruit people. And without doing anything, I am getting income. Just sitting at home!" she flashed a wide smile.

"Wow, that's cool."

I said, looking across the partially filled room at my husband who was talking to Barkha, one of his female subordinates. He looked at me, smiled, and then I noticed him take a a small step back, away from her. I had been noticing their interactions all day.

"The money is good. But really, the main thing is the product. It is also environmentally friendly."

"That's nice." I said, wondering how long this conversation was going to last.

I scanned the room. It had about 50 or so people, half of them employees from Vinay's bank, and the other half, businessmen and other dignitaries from the town we were in. Vinay's bank had opened a new branch in another small town about 100 kilometers from our vile little town. Although the bank would have its own manager, he would report to Vinay. We had driven there earlier in the day for the inauguration ceremony. A local businessman had cut the ribbon, a coconut had been smashed open, a quick pooja performed, and now we were in the main lobby of the bank where soft drinks and snacks were being served.

Vinay told me that although the inauguration was happening today because of some astrological muhurat based reasons, there were a lot of operational details to be ironed out before the bank would be fully functional. And that he would spend most of the time at the party discussing these details with his colleagues and subordinates. Among the subordinates was Barkha, a local 21 year old just out of college who was one of Vinay's assistants. I had heard her name mentioned occasionally around the house, but this was the first time I had met her. She was a stunner.

Barkha was a petite young thing, with a mocha skin, big brown eyes, short hair, perky tits, and a singsong way of talking. She seemed to laugh and giggle a lot, from what I had seen at the party, and had a habit of touching men on their arms as she spoke to them. Especially Vinay. When we had reached the new bank building, Vinay had introduced me to his team. A few of them had looked at me meaningfully in a way that suggested that they had heard the rumors about me. Over the course of the party, a few of them made loaded comments that suggested the same. Barkha however, seemed anxious to stay away from me. When we had been introduced, she had just said a quick Namaste and then walked away hurriedly saying she needed to check on the catering.

"I know what you are thinking." the lady snapped me out of my reverie. "If my husband is already a bank manager, why do I need the extra income? Right?"

That's when I remembered that this woman was the wife of the guy who would be running this new branch. I had been so bored by her transparent pyramid scheme pitch that I had forgotten that fact completely. But that business relationship between our husbands meant that I could not be rude to her, and just say what I was thinking, which was that these pyramid schemes are a scam and I was not interested one bit. I had to indulge her without committing to the hair-brained proposal.

"No. I mean yes." I said, because she was expecting a response. I could've said anything and she would have still stuck to her script.

"It's all about financial independence while also helping people take better care of themselves in an environmentally friendly way." she delivered her rehearsed line. "So do you think that you...."

I knew this was the point where I had to make a polite exit.

"Excuse me." I said, flashing her a bright smile. "I think my husband wants to talk to me."

"Oh sure, sure." she said, not wanting to be too pushy with the wife of the man her husband would he reporting to. "I'll catch up with you later."

I walked away from her, a glass of orange juice in one hand, using the other hand to adjust my pallu. Given the formal occasion, I was wearing an elegant black sari with a gold border. It felt so odd but also comforting to be wearing a normal modest blouse. I rarely wore saris in day-to-day life. My preference was comfortable western wear, and if the situation demanded traditional garb, a salwar kurta. But this was a formal occasion so a sari was expected. The last few times I had worn saris had been when Jamal ordered me to, wearing those skimpy blouses. So this modest attire seemed like a welcome change of sorts.

Oh right, Jamal. You are probably wondering what happened with that whole situation. So on that last day, after I happily fucked the three Bangali laborers in my outhouse, Jamal took me back to the house and banged me a couple of times. His attitude was a lot more laidback than I had been used to. As I said before, I didn't know if this was because he was just bored of me now that he had "conquered" me, or if he was feeling remorse about how he had pushed me past my limits. It was the last day of the road work. He left, saving my number in his cellphone and making me save his, saying that we should "continue to be friends".

The next few days, I kept looking out of the window, as if habituated to having an audience. I was also expecting Jamal to show up at any moment to continue our "friendship". But he stayed away. At least for a couple of weeks leading up to this inauguration party.

That orgy with the laborers had done a lot to restore my taste for life in general. The break from Jamal also gave me time to introspect. I had never meant to turn into some serial-cheating slut. It had been a combination of unfortunate circumstances, often engineered by domineering unscrupulous men. I still loved my husband and intended to spend the rest of my life with him. At the same time, I could not deny that I had derived a lot of perverted pleasure from what had transpired. Other than the week or so after Jamal really went to town on my ass, I had been at least a partially willing participant in everything.

At the end of the introspection, I decided that I would now do my best to stay out of trouble. If Jamal came knocking, there wasn't much I could do, but other than that, I would do my best to minimize the potential for more debauchery. I immersed myself in the coding work, often going at it 12-14 hours a day, and asking for more work. I became a complete homebody, not stepping out of the house even for minor groceries unless accompanied by Vinay. We walked or drove past the nukkad guys a few times, but other than a few meaningful looks and winks, they kept their distance.

So my life seemed to have returned to a state of relative normalcy when I accompanied Vinay to this branch inauguration. Although the looks and smiles of some people there kept reminding me of the reputation I had in our town, I was glad to be a 100 km away in the company of some more people who had never even heard of me.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

I walked towards Vinay and Barkha, sipping the orange juice, all the while observing their body language. Vinay noticed me approaching them from across the room. He half-waved at me and while taking a sip from his glass, seemed to say something to Barkha. The young hottie quickly turned her head to look at me, and then walked away from my husband.


I was never an insecure person, be it with all the boyfriends I had or the man I eventually married. I knew that they were all desirable men other women would find attractive too. Vinay was an especially attractive prospect - tall, broad-shouldered, intelligent, accomplished, handsome, polite, articulate, great sense of humor, and most of all, just a genuinely great guy. Throughout our married life, I had seen many women flirting with him. It never really bothered me too much. Because my self-esteem was always high enough to know that I was better than any of those women, be it physically or intellectually. And Vinay had never shown an signs of being interested in anyone else.

So why was it different with Barkha?

I had struggled with that question the whole time we were there. This feeling of insecurity was completely foreign to me. Why had it reared its head after all these years of marriage? Was I just projecting my own behavior on him? After all, Vinay had also never shown signs of being insecure, although he would occasionally get territorial and protective like he had with the nukkad guys. I had gotten my share of attention from many interested guys during our marriage, and Vinay had never really seemed bothered by it either. He also seemed completely oblivious to what I had been up to lately. And yet, I had fucked and sucked so many guys in recent months without him having a shred of suspicion.

Was that happening on his end as well? Had I been completely oblivious of what he was up to? He worked longer hours here than in Bombay, and I always assumed it was because his job was so demanding. But had he also been lured into a web of deceitful infidelity by the bizarre morals of the cow belt? If I was weak enough to give in, sleep around, and keep it a secret from him, maybe he was too.

What bothered me the most was the fact that it seemed to me like he was a lot more responsive and nervous around Barkha than I ever remembered him being with women who flirted with him in Bombay. In similar situations, when I observed some woman trying to throw herself at Vinay, he was always polite and friendly, but careful not to lead them on, just like I was with the men who flirted with me back then. But somehow, this seemed different. Was it really different or was I being paranoid because I had turned into a cock-guzzling slut? Or was he also enjoying the fresh taste of new sexual experiences? I had no idea.

"Hi honey." Vinay said effusively as I walked up to him. In my insecure state of mind, I thought I detected a hint of exaggerated emotion in his voice.

"Hi darling." I said and he hugged briefly.

"Having a good time?"

"It's okay. The branch manager's wife has been trying to recruit me in a pyramid scheme."

"Hahaha, really? I saw you two talking. That's what she was saying to you?"

"Yeah! What sort of people are you hiring?"

"You know this is no multinational." Vinay shrugged and said, rubbing my shoulders.

"So are we about done here? Can we leave soon?" I asked. "I need to get back to coding. I have a deadline."

"Yes, yes, just give me a few minutes." he said and after pecking me on the cheek, walked away.

I nibbled at the snacks, having polite conversations with people in the party as I watched Vinay talk to his subordinates. I noticed again that his conversations with Barkha seemed to last the longest, and seemed different than the others. From my perspective, it almost seemed like she was throwing a tantrum and he was trying to mollify her. Again, I wondered if I was just being paranoid, projecting my own behavior on him. She was a young hot little thing, but surely he couldn't cheat on me with her, I thought. Then I remembered all the men I had been with - working class men with largely questionable sex appeal (except for Raza). And yet I had countless orgasms with them. So clearly, just on-paper desirability was not the only metric for deciding whether to cheat.

I mingled with people politely and I was standing near the entrance when I saw the pyramid scheme lady purposefully walking towards me. Not wanting to be subject to another long pitch, I pretended that I had to make a phone call, put my mobile to my ear and walked out of the building and to the parking lot. It was a hot day and I hoped she didn't care enough about her scam to follow me into the heat.

Once I was sure she was not coming to ambush me, I took the phone off my ear and started checking my email, news, and other stuff. There were a bunch of vehicles parked in the lot, with some drivers milling around. One guy was a few feet away from me, stealing occasional glances in my direction. He didn't look familiar so I assumed it was because I looked so stunning in that elegant black sari, and ignoring his glances, kept checking various apps.

"There you are!!!" the door opened and Vinay walked out.

"Hey, I was just trying to avoid the pyramid scheme woman." I said.

"Okay listen." Vinay said, looking a little apologetic. "Turns out I will have to stick around for a while. There are a lot of operational issues that I have to deal with here."

"Oh." I said disappointed. "So we'll be here for a while?"

"Well, I have to be here." he said. "If your coding deadlines are urgent, you could just take the car and go home."

The paranoid side of me reared his head again. Maybe he really did have work to do and was genuinely concerned about my deadlines. Or maybe he just wanted to send me away so he could spend the day with Barkha, his hot young girlfriend.

"Okay.....but then how will you get home? Especially if you have to stay late?" I asked.

"I'll figure something out." he shrugged.

I was thinking about what to do when the guy near me spoke up.

"Saab?"

"Yeah?" Vinay looked at him.

"I couldn't help overhear what you two were saying. I am about to go back to town. If you want, I can drop memsaab off." he said earnestly.

"Oh, could you?" Vinay's face perked up.

"Who's this?" I whispered to Vinay in English.

"Just one moment." my husband said to the driver and pulled me to the side. "He drives a mini-bus. We hired him to transport guests to the venue locally. But his time ends soon and he is about to go back to our town."

"Okay." I said.

"If you go back with him, I can keep the car and drive back later." Vinay said.

Or, I said in my mind, you can use the car to take joyrides with Barkha and bang her somewhere.

"Hmmm." is what I said out loud.

"It's your decision." Vinay said, sensing my uncertainty. "If you want to drive back, that's fine too."

I actually wasn't looking forward to driving back those 100 kilometers. Say what you will about Bombay's chaotic traffic, but there's a method to the madness. Here in the cowbelt, especially on highways, it was crazy. Even that time I drove with Raza, it had been somewhat of a nightmare, with random cattle showing up and people driving on the wrong side every other moment. If it was possible for me to avoid driving, I would welcome the opportunity. Vinay had grown up in the cowbelt so he was accustomed to driving here. I had grown up in civilized Bombay, so wanted to avoid a long drive.

But I had also resolved not to put myself into positions of potential vulnerability.

I looked at the guy. He was staring at the ground, looking very harmless. I tried to remember the way he had glanced at me earlier. It had seemed mostly harmless. I didn't think he had any designs on me. Plus going with him meant that I wouldn't have to drive and Vinay would have the freedom to return on his own.

"Okay, I can go with him."

"Great." Vinay seemed a little too happy at my decision. I felt suspicious again, but pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind.

And so five minutes later, I found myself sitting in the mini-bus with the young driver as we pulled out of the parking lot.

---

[Ramesh_Rocky]

It was a 16-seater mini-bus with really bad suspension so I sat in the row right behind the driver. Although I had assessed him to be low-risk, I was on tenterhooks as I sat there, the vehicle barreling down the road. I kept wondering if the guy might try to pull something. But other than a few occasional glances in the mirror, he seemed harmless. As time passed, I relaxed. I replied to a bunch of emails, checked my facebook, checked the news, and then plugged in earphones to listen to some music as the bus drove me home. Half an hour passed without incident and then I noticed the guy pick up his cellphone.


I was a little worried about safety as he answered the phone. It was risky talking on the phone while driving, especially on such dangerous roads. I paused my music. Instantly, I heard something that made my heart skip a beat.

"...yes, that one. The bank manager's wife. I am driving her home."

I heard the driver's voice say, as he presumably seemed to think that I was listening to music and couldn't hear what he was saying.

"Yes....yes she is alone. No.......no......I don't think so. Where?.........okay." was what I heard next.

My heart started racing as I tried to derive meaning out of the words I had heard. By themselves, they didn't seem too incriminating. That could be what he would say even if he didn't have any ulterior motives. At the same time, there was enough ambiguity there to suspect that I had again unwittingly thrown myself into a compromising situation.

I took my earphones off and put my phone in my purse. By then, he had ended his call.

"You shouldn't talk on the phone when you're driving." I said in an authoritative voice.

"Sorry, memsaab." he said, keeping his eye on the road. "It was the owner."

"What owner?"

"The owner of the mini-bus. My boss. So I had to answer."

"Okay." I said.

"He told me I have to pick him up with some people on the way. Won't be too long. Hope that's okay." he said, politely.

There was no edge to his voice, nothing suggestive, and other than the occasional expected glance, he had been a decent guy. So I had no reason to suspect him.

"That's fine." I said.

We drove along in silence for a few minutes. I was just sitting there looking out the window, trying to decide if I was in a vulnerable position again. A few minutes later, the driver spoke.

"Was it a good party, memsaab?"

"Yes, it was." I said.

"Did you have a good time?"

"It was okay."

"Did you meet ALL of your husband's colleagues?"

The stress on the word ALL made me pause. What was he implying?

"What are you implying?" I asked, suspiciously.

"Implying? Who is implying anything?" he shrugged innocently, then looked back at me and smiled.

But the way he said it, it made me think that he knew something.

"Are you.....are you asking if I met Barkha?" I asked pointedly.

"Did you meet Barkha?" he asked me a question in response.

"Yes, I did."

"Pretty girl, right?" he said, turning back to look at me and smile again.

"I suppose." I said, feeling my insecurity acting up. "Do you know her well?"

"Barkha? I have known her since childhood. She's always been a pretty and adventurous type. Especially in the last couple of years. Word around town is that she likes older handsome men. Usually married men with decent wives. Mostly decent wives. But then some wives think differently."

He said cryptically, looking back at me whole time with a wry smile.

"Look at the road!" I said urgently as I saw a truck approaching.

"Don't be scared, memsaab. I am a good driver. I promise you won't end up in some muddy pit that you can't get out of."

My heartbeat quickened. It could not be a coincidence. He was clearly referencing the first time the nukkad guys had laid their hands on me. I sat silently, just thinking. He kept driving. Despite that quip about the muddy pit, my mind was focused on my husband and his assistant.

"Tell me more about Barkha......" I paused and then said what was on my mind. "Is she having an affair with my husband?"

He kept driving silently for a few seconds, focusing on the road. Finally he spoke.

"Barkha is an adventurous girl for sure, memsaab. She has a fetish for older married men. Most wives are clueless about it. Sometimes the wives find out. Some wives just meekly accept it. Usually wives who have gotten fatter and uglier as the years have gone by and they had kids. They know they aren't as attractive anymore. So these wives don't mind if their husbands have a little fun on the side with someone like Barkha, as long as their husbands come home to them and provide for their families. And then there are some wives like you."

"Like me?" I asked, surprised by that last statement.

"Yes, memsaab. Wives who have no kids, are still hot, and want to experiment a little with other men in their free time. So they are okay with their husbands enjoying themselves elsewhere so they get the time to do their own thing."

What the hell was this guy saying? My mind was in a state of confusion. Was he implying that Vinay and Barkha were having an affair, and that I knew about it, and that I let it continue because it meant I could fuck men on the side myself? More than Vinay and Barkha, the foremost question in my mind was, did this guy know everything about me? The muddy pit comment certainly suggested that. I decided to bell the cat.

"So that's what you think of me? A woman who wants to experiment a little with other men in her free time?" I don't know how I managed to sound offended when I asked this question, despite its substance being true.

The driver didn't answer right away. He drove silently for a few seconds. He then looked back at me, smiled, and checked out my boobs over the sari before looking ahead. Finally he started talking.

"I can understand why you are feeling so upset, memsaab. You are from Mumbai, a big city. You big city people are very old-fashioned."

"Really? WE are old-fashioned?" I said incredulously.

"Yes, you are. In big cities, if a woman sees her husband talking to some unknown hot woman, she wants to find out what's going on. She doesn't know the woman. She doesn't know what's happening. It's all about being pure and old-fashioned."

This logic sounded bizarre to me.

"And how are you people different?"

He thought for a few seconds before answering.

"We are different because there are no unknown people. Everyone knows everyone. There is no suspicion of the unknown and no wish to destroy someone's life by tattling on them. We know that everyone had temptations, everyone has limitations, and everyone had constraints. We live in a society and we have to keep up appearances."

"I have no idea what you are talking about." I really didn't. He laughed.

"What I am saying is, memsaab, let's say there is a bored hot wife who wants to sleep around with lots of different men. Everyone in town knows everyone. So other men who might have a shot at sleeping with her will come to know about it. But again, everyone knows everyone. So we don't want to destroy any lives. So we keep those facts hidden from people who might get hurt. And those people involved are okay with the facts being hidden because it serves their own purpose. Their partners might or might not have their own secrets, so it's a good system to maintain"

I tried to digest what he was saying. It sounded too convoluted.

"So you are saying that my husband IS having an affair with Barkha, thinking that it leaves me free to have my own affairs?" is the best I could come up with.

"Not exactly." he said, shaking his head.

"Then?"

"Then what?"

"My husband is sleeping with Barkha?"

"I didn't say that!" he said instantly.

"Then what the hell are you saying?" I was getting really annoyed.

"I am just saying that you Mumbai people don't understand how things work here in these parts." he said.

As I tried to make sense of what he said, the mini-bus started slowing down. It had pulled off the highway and was going into a narrow rural street.

"Where are we going?" I asked in a panicky voice.

"Relax, memsaab." he said. "I told you already. I have to pick up some people."

He was right. He had told me that and I had said it was fine.

"Okay." I said as the bus came to a stop on a narrow countryside road with trees all around.

He turned the ignition off and got up from his seat, stretching. As he turned around to face me, I was shocked to see that his zip was open and a thick 6 inch dick was poking out.

"What the hell?" I shouted.

"Don't worry, memsaab. I am not Jamal!"

He said languidly and then sat down on the seat next to mine.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

posted up to 25th page

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Him invoking Jamal's name while standing there with his dick hanging out removed any remaining doubt in my mind about his innocence. When I agreed to let him take me home while talking to Vinay, I had foolishly assumed that he was just a random driver with no ulterior motives. Sure, he was staring at me once in a while, but I assumed it was because I looked so fetching in the black sari. Now I knew that he was "in the loop", and with his latest gesture, it was clear that I probably had a new tormentor in my life. How did all these town people find out all the details of everything I was doing?


I started panicking and my panic must have flashed on my face, because he said.

"Calm down, memsaab. I told you already, I am not Jamal."

Being used to so much rough treatment, I was expecting him to jump on me and try to force himself on me. But he was just sitting on the seat next to mine gently stroking his cock. Keeping a respectable distance between us, even as he stared at my chest once in a while.

"Listen memsaab, you look terrified. Calm down, please. I am telling you, I am not some cruel sadist. I am a decent guy." he sounded really earnest as he said that, even as he was sitting there jacking off next to a fully dressed high class memsaab.

I had no idea what to say or do. I just sat in my place, doing my best not to stare at his thick dong and praying that he really was a decent guy like he said. But I couldn't keep my eyes off his dick for too long. I gazed at the tip of his dick as his hand kept pulling the foreskin off it.

"This is what I meant, memsaab." he said, calmly working on his dick. "Here we are. You, a gorgeous rich high class woman, me a lowly driver. We are sitting here together, as I am playing with my dick, just aroused by how hot you look completely clothed even in that sari. Now imagine if we were sitting like this together in this bus in Mumbai and someone walked by. They would look through the window. They can't see my dick. But they would assume the worst. They would be like.....oh, what is this high class woman doing alone with this lowly driver. And within hours, the news would reach your husband's ears. Isn't that how it would go down in Mumbai?"

"Probably." I said, watching him jack off.

"It works differently here. You are a high class memsaab. I am a driver. Someone sees us together. They think it is one of two things. Either we are just sitting together for whatever reason. Or we are enjoying ourselves together. If we are just plainly sitting together, there is no reason to tell you husband or my wife about it. If we are just giving in to our natural temptations.....well....we will go home to our spouses anyway....so there is no reason to tell your husband or my wife about it."

"Okayyy....." I said, starting to understand at least partially what he was saying. "So your point is, your society is a lot more discreet than the Bombay society."

Suddenly he stopped jerking his dick. And there was a confused look on his face.

"Aren't you Maharashtrian?" he asked, out of nowhere.

"No.....my husband is." I said, surprised at the sudden change in topic.

"Oh okay." he said and resumed playing with his cock.

"Why?"

"I say Mumbai....you say Bombay." he shrugged.

"It will always be Bombay to me." I said proudly.

"I don't really care." he shrugged again. "But yeah, our society is more discreet than the Mumbai....or Bombay society. I hope you can appreciate that. Here I am, jerking off looking at your hot fully dressed body, imagining all sorts or things. Even if someone who knows us passes by, you can be assured that your husband won't find out about you. And you won't find out about whatever your husband is doing. Although he might not be doing anything at all."

Having said his piece, he just sat in the seat next to me, playing with his dick. I could not keep my eyes off his thick dick. Although I had resolved to be faithful from now on, I felt temptations surging inside me. But I fought them off. No, I told myself, I would not submit to this degradation again. But, I also told myself, I could still watch. I gazed at how his wrist jerked as he pleasured himself. How his eyes darted from my boobs to my face to my hips even as I just passively sat there.

"Do you like looking at my dick, memsaab?" he breathlessly asked.

Maybe that was his fetish, I thought. Not to actually fuck someone but to make them watch as he jerked off. Maybe he was an exhibitionist. The tendency to show off penises is very common among Indian men. I had been flashed many such dicks over my lifetime, even before I entered my slut phase. I always wondered what the point of it was, especially because most of those dicks were so small and pitiful. What pleasure could a man possibly derive from just passively flashing his genitals to someone else? But then I remembered how excited I had felt when Jamal exposed my body to the laborers. So who was I to judge?

At that moment, I was just thankful that this guy was passively jerking off next to me instead of imposing his will on me. It was a big change from what Jamal had inflicted on me. As I kept staring at his jerking dick, I wondered, who was he aligned with? By now I knew that the town was neatly divided between two political groups - the Billa group and the Shakoor group. I had been announced to the world as being the "property" of one or the other gang at various times. I wondered what my status was now.

This driver, whose name I didn't know, was uncircumcised, so I was justified in thinking that he might be aligned with Billa and the nukkad guys. But given the complicated nature of identity politics in the cow belt, who knows? Maybe he was aligned with Shakoor and his folks. After all, I had most recently been "owned" by Jamal, who was part of the Shakoor group.

As I thought about all these practical matters, I kept looking at the erect dick, fighting all my urges to strip down to my bare skin and ride it. No, you can't do that, I told myself. You have to maintain your dignity. At the same time, I felt for the poor guy. He was keeping his distance, but the simple sight of my sari-clothed body was exciting him so much. Since he was behaving, I decided to throw him a bone.

I slowly reached for the pallu on my shoulder and pulled it down. My blouse wasn't revealing. With the pallu gone, maybe 1-2 inches of my ample cleavage were visible. But it was enough to get my new friend even more excited. He stared harder and started jerking his dick off faster. I felt a little flattered.

And that's when a car slowed down near us. Until then, vehicles had been passing by at high speed every few minutes. But this guy was apparently an acquaintance or a friend of the man calmly jerking off a few feet away from me.

"Oy Mohan!!!!" came the cry from the car.

My new friend suddenly turned his head and waved. It didn't seem to bother him that he had been seen when masturbating. He seemed nonchalant. I surmised that his name was Mohan. I couldn't help but wave myself as the guy in the car stared at my face. From that angle, I wasn't sure if that passing driver had seen that my pallu was off or not. But in that split second, I didn't care.

"See memsaab." Mohan said in a throaty voice while gripping his dick. "That guy saw us together. But this news isn't going to reach your husband."

I felt a random surge of gratitude for Mohan. My pallu was already off. I thought to myself, why not help him a little. I have done worse. I slid to the edge of the seat close to him and turned to face him, showing him my blouse covered boobs. He sighed. I was about to bend down and maybe.....maybe (although I hadn't decided) take his dick in my mouth when suddenly, there was a sharp knock on the bus door.

Mohan and I were both startled and looked at the door. Outside the glass, I recognized the face of the big burly nukkad guy who had been a participant in my very first encounter months ago that had started this whole debacle. I instantly sat back and pulled my pallu over my shoulder as Mohan gingerly got up and went to the door.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Mohan opened the door and the big burly brute from my recent past sauntered in, smiling wide. I was busy adjusting my pallu making myself decent, even as I tried to fight off the memories of the last time this guy had been with me. How he had pulled me out of that muddy pit (suddenly, Mohan's comment about the muddy pit made sense). How he had thrust his fat dick inside me mouth and cum in it. I would always remember him as the first man to set this whole tumultuous chain of events in motion.


And now he was walking towards me, smiling happily. He was wearing a brown pathan suit, with the sleeves sleeves folded all the way up his bulging biceps. He was quite tall just as I remembered him, probably 6 ft 3 or so, and had to bend down just to stand straight in the bus.

"Namaste, memsaab!" he folded his palms in an excessively reverential way as he bent. "Fancy meeting you here in my bus."

"Your bus?" I said.

"Yes, I own it. Mohan is just a driver."

Mohan, meanwhile had zipped up his pants and was quietly back in the driver's seat. Even in that brief interaction, I surmised that this was not a relationship of equals. Mohan was obviously subservient to this guy.

"Mohan!" he said, standing right next to me. "We need to go to the Malikganj site next to pick up the rest of the passengers."

With that order, he stood next to me, leaning down and smiling.

"What about me?" I asked. "He said he would take me home."

"He will, memsaab, he certainly will. But remember that dropping you home is a favor we are doing. Your husband hired my bus only to ferry people to that fancy party locally. He isn't paying us anymore. You are in this bus, not as a paying customer, but as someone we are doing a favor on. And I assure you that Mohan will eventually drop you hope. But he is being paid to do his job, not to play games with pretty ladies on the side. Were you enjoying Mohan's little game, memsaab?"

He smiled at me lecherously. I just stared back with a frown on my face.

"Let's get going, Mohan!" he said, turning his head back.

Mohan put the bus in gear and it started moving. I sat dreading what my first ever tormentor had in store for me. And wondering whether and how much I should fight back. Was I still technically considered Jamal's keep and by extension, under Shakoor Haji's protection? When Raza had spoken to these guys, they had left me alone. Did that warning still apply? Or was I now fair game? I had no way of knowing.

I couldn't very well just come out and ask the man - Hello, I was wondering if you plan to force me into sex or am I protected by virtue of being someone else's mistress?

I was in this mini-bus in the middle of nowhere. Even if I put up a fight and got off, how could I be sure that whatever awaited me on the streets of the cow belt wouldn't be more dangerous? I had no choice but to stay put.

"Let's move to the back seat, memsaab." the big burly brute said walking past me. "We will be picking up a bunch of Bangladeshi migrant workers and you don't want to be between them. Or.....maybe you do, from the rumors I have heard recently."

He cackled loudly and I heard Mohan chuckle too.

I glared at him, but his back was turned towards me. What was with this town? How did these people know every detail of seemingly private acts, even when they were perpetrated by their supposed rivals? Were the Billa guys and Shakoor guys boasting to each other about how much they had degraded me? Whatever the case, his basic point was valid. I did not want to be seated between a bunch of unknown migrant workers. So I quietly got up and followed him to the back seat, hoping that my supposed status as Jamal's bitch would deter him from any advances.

The back seat of the mini-bus was a long continuous one, with all the other seats in the front separated by an aisle. There ere already a couple of sacks of construction material on the back seat next to each of the windows. So effectively, there were only two seats. The brute politely moved to the side letting me sit first and then squeezed in his ample butt next to mine in the remaining space. Our hips were touching slightly in the position we were both sitting in.

Mohan was quietly driving the bus. I saw him move his mirror a little bit so he could look at me instead of the road. I felt a little scared by that, worried about safety. Shouldn't he be focusing the mirror on the road behind him?

I sat next to the brute fearing the worst and suffering flashes of the last time we had been together and his big thick dick had been in my mouth. It took all of my willpower to not glance at his crotch over his pathan suit. I was also worried about what he might do next. Was I at his mercy? Was there going to be a new Jamal? I just sat there petrified.

The bus sped along the highway, making sharp turns, pushing me against the brute and the brute against me. We were seated at the very back of the bus so the bumps and vibrations were maximized. He however, kept his hands to himself. Maybe I really was under Shakoor Haji's protection, I told myself, feeling a little relieved. However, sitting there next to the big strong brute, his bulging biceps right next to mine, I was feeling that irresistible funny feeling rearing its head inside me. I tried to shake it off, but every time the bumps pushed our bodies together, I felt a slight shiver flow through my entire being.

Don't even think about it, I warned myself. Don't slide back into that hellhole.

"Do you remember me, memsaab?" he finally spoke without looking at me.

"Yes." I curtly replied.

"Remember that day when you were running, and then you fell in the pit, and then I pulled you out, and then you..."

"I said I remember you!!!" I cut him off, not wanting him to say the rest of what happened.

"My name is Birju by the way." he said."

"Sheetal." I responded in kind. And he laughed.

"Everyone in our town knows your name, memsaab. You are a star. You are a bigger star in this town than Sunny Leone!"

I bristled at that reference. He had just compared me to a porn star. Sure, I had done some crazy things that even she might not have done. But still, that comparison seemed deeply offensive to me. I scowled. Birju saw my expression and smiled.

"Sorry if that offended you, memsaab. I didn't mean it as an insult." he said.

"Sure." I bitterly said.

"You are sounding so offended. Can you imagine how I feel?" he asked with some emotion.

"Huh?"

"Come on, Sheetal memsaab, isn't it obvious?"

"No, it's not." I had no idea what he was talking about.

He sighed and looked straight ahead. He was silent for a little while. And then he started speaking.

"Okay....a few months ago. There you were, a high class hot housewife of a top bank manager. We all watched you, admired your beauty, maybe made a few innocent comments..."

"Innocent??" I snickered.

"Made a few comments..." he continued. "But we left you mostly alone. Until that day when you went running. It was my idea to follow you. My idea to.....do everything else. That's what started everything. And now..."

"Now what?" I snapped at him.

"Now you have fucked half the town and I can't do anything because Shakoor Haji runs the town."

He sat back, with a frown on his face. On one hand, I felt happy, because he had just confirmed something I had been wondering about - my protection. On the other hand, I also felt bad for the poor guy. Sure, he had been rough with me. But compared to what I had experienced since, he had almost been a Victorian gentleman. And he was right. The whole thing started because he had made the first move. Yes, he and his thugs had felt me up and stripped me, and he had made me suck his dick. But until Bajwa came along, the nukkad guys had never fucked me. I knew now that it was because of the elections, which they lost anyway, but still. The fact remained that Birju and his guys had been relatively the most respectful towards me in that town.

Hell, even just a little while ago, his driver Mohan could have forced himself on me. Instead, he just sat by himself, playing with his dick, not even touching me. Of course, in an ideal world, a driver should not be exposing himself to his passengers. But by cow belt moral standards, Mohan's behavior was worthy of a medal.

For now though, Mohan was speeding the bus along. And it felt to me like it was bouncing and lurching a lot more than necessary, even though we were at the very back. My body kept pushing against Birju's and my big tits kept shaking even under the modest blouse and pallu. In the rear view mirror, I could see Mohan staring at me.

"Hehe, looks like Mohan is really excited, memsaab." Birju said.

"Clearly!" I frowned back at the rearview mirror but to no avail.

"Were you having a good time watching him Jack off? Were you going to suck his dick like you sucked mine that day?"

"Birju!!!" I said and turned crimson with shame.

"Sorry if I came and knocked at the wrong moment, memsaab. Maybe I should have waited and let you finish. Are you......are you feeling unsatisfied because of my interruption memsaab?" Birju sweetly asked.

I didn't say anything. The bus rapidly lurched along. At one turn, the bus lurched particularly hard and then braked. I felt my body being thrown forward. Suddenly Birju's big hand pressed against my chest and contained my fall.

"Careful, memsaab." he said in a concerned voice.

"Tell him to be careful." I almost spat back as the bus stabilized a little.

Birju's hand was still on my boobs, over my sari. I didn't look at him. His hand stayed there. Then it slowly slid down and stroked my bare stomach. That rough unfamiliar touch felt good. I inhaled so sharply that even Birju heard. I turned my head towards him. He smiled at me. My lips twitched a little, but I resisted smiling back.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

foogy -

sheetal is a star or not.. you are definitely are a star
keep it going...
in the long version of the tale.. maybe she becomes a critical piece (pawn) in the next elections .. .. you would know best but PM me if you need ideas

[Ramesh_Rocky]

That tense moment lasted several seconds, with Birju's hand on my stomach, feeling my navel. Even Mohan was looking intently in the rearview mirror, taking his attention off the road. Birju and I stared at each other. His big hand seemed to be shivering against my skin. I could almost read his thoughts. Here was this hot voluptuous woman that he had first perverted. Now she was someone else's "property" and if he tried to force himself on her, the political consequences of it might be severe. At the same time, looking at her eyes and her face, it was clear that she wasn't averse to advances. So what should he do next?


Birju's political instincts won. As the bus stabilized, he took his hands off my stomach and sat straight. I also adjusted myself and sat straight although I was feeling that familiar funny force inside me again. Birju was a big hulking specimen of masculinity. I had been sitting next to his, our hips touching, for a while. I had not been properly sexually satisfied since that last day of the road work. I was struggling with the suspicion that my husband was cheating on me with a young hot woman. And the way Mohan, the man who had exposed his dick to me, was staring at me in the rearview mirror, kept reminding me of how I had been exposed to the Bangalis earlier.

It was like a perfect storm brewing inside my head when Birju quietly said,

"Mohan keeps looking in his mirror, hoping to see something interesting."

"Is that so?" my tone was sarcastic but Birju ignored it.

"Maybe he is still hard from whatever you were doing with him before I interrupted."

Birju's hand now gradually moved to my thigh over the multiple layers of the sari. guessed he was testing the waters to see how far I was willing to go.

"Maybe." I heard myself responding in a whisper too, almost involuntarily. I was definitely getting swept up in the situation despite my better judgment.

"Do you want to show him something interesting?" Birju asked, gently squeezing my thigh over the sari.

My primal self had almost taken over my entire thinking and I was aching to cry out - yes, yes, let's expose me to Mohan. But part of my rational brain was still in control. So I replied,

"He is driving, so won't it be risky? And what about......Jamal?"

The change in Birju's facial expression was very obvious to read. He was pleased that my objection was not to the actual act of exposing myself, but to the other practical difficulties.

"Don't worry about Mohan's driving, memsaab, he is a great driver. He can focus on two things at the same time."

"Okay...." I said, unsure of the verdict.

"As for Jamal...and Shakoorbhai.....that is up to you. If you can keep a secret, so can I." he said in a low conspiratorial tone that seemed comically mismatched with his big hulking body.

I found myself coyly nodding. Later I wondered why I had nodded. It's not like I was under any pressure or threat. Birju was being very conscious of the fact that he had no power over me. In fact it was in my power to stave off his advances. if I had stood my ground and refused to be part of his shenanigans, he would have probably backed off. And yet, despite holding that trump card, I just coyly nodded. Was it because I was still angry at Jamal and was trying to rebel against his control? That didn't make much sense as he had left me alone since the road work finished. So then, was I actually starved for humiliation and exposure? I didn't know. But I coyly nodded.

Birju looked delighted like he had just won the lottery. When I nodded, he moved his hand up my thigh gently grazing the fabric of my black sari until it was back at my stomach. Once there, he pinched my bare skin gently. I sighed. He smiled some more. His hand moved up to my blouse and was soon feeling up my breasts.

"You are dressed very stylishly today, memsaab, in a very elegant sari." he said, licking my ear lobes, Mohan was watching all this in the mirror. "You usually don't dress like this."

"I was at a business function with my husband." I said, feeling weird that I was having such a regular conversation even as this big guy was now squeezing my tits and licking my neck as his driver watched.

"Should we pull of your pallu? You had taken it off for him before I came anyway."

"Okay." I meekly replied.

His big thick hand went to my pallu and pushed it off my shoulder, making it rest in my lap.My upper body was now covered in a black blouse, displaying my cleavage inMohan's mirror.

"So how did you end up in this bus, memsaab?" Birju asked, poking his finger down my cleavage while looking at Mohan.

I explained to him how I had to get home early, but my husband was busy, so I left the car with him, and so on. As I said all that, Birju's thick fingers were deftly unhooking my blouse. Soon it was completely open. Soon, he pushed the sides out of the way and in the mirror, Mohan got a look at my bra-covered tits.

"What you are saying is, your husband wanted some time away from you, to do......other things." Birju said as he pushed his nose into my cleavage.

"What other things?" I asked, stroking his short hair.

"Whatever he wants, memsaab." Birju said.

"Wait!" I said loudly, pulling the big lunk's head away from my chest.

He looked a little disappointed at being interrupted in his exploration of my huge tits. But he played along. I noted the difference in his attitude. So co-operative now that I was Jamal's woman. And a few months ago, he had thrust his dick in my throat like he owned it.

"What is it, memsaab?" he gently asked.

"Do you know anything about my husband and this girl Barkha?" I asked.

His lips twitched slightly.

"What about them?" he asked.

"Are they having an affair?" I asked.

"Whatever made you think that?" he suddenly sounded genuinely shocked.

"They are not?"

"Listen, memsaab. I have my face in your tits, we are entertaining young Mohan, and you are clearly enjoying it all. Why do you want to talk about your husband?" he sounded a little annoyed.

"I need to know." I said.

Birju ran his fingers down my cleavage and then bumped his hips against mine. He looked at me for a few seconds and then spoke,

"Memsaab, the kind of information you are asking for.....it is against our town values and rules."

"Is it?" I asked, putting my hand on his kurta crotch enticingly.

"That's an interesting gesture." he smiled.

"Isn't it?" I smiled.

"Okay memsaab....the information you want.....I can give it to you....some of it. But there will be a price you have to pay for it." he said, reminding me of that time when he had said I would have to pay a price for him pulling me out of the pit.

"And what is the price?" I asked, sardonically.

"Let me think." he said and scratched his chin.

---

[Ramesh_Rocky]

foogy-

you do a have a very very good sense of writing.. where you just end one update with something very enticing hanging ... sign of a really really good writer.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Jhethalal69-

Best story and very promising updates from you every day. Thanks for your effort. Really addicted to your story.
Basically I am very silent reader and not try to suggest any of my favorite author but just one thing I really wanna tell you (hope this will not offend you) some thing which I really miss as your story progress.
First as you describe she has submissive tendency and very appealing sex drive every time. There is lot more kink or eroticism in D/S relation than just fucking random guys in different situations. submissive, blackmail, exhibition, degradation and reluctance is more kinkier and just fuck one or gang bang.
Jamal is the perfect example if he really turns well. but may be your plans of story is different.
Now one more time you come at same situation if Birju will keep her as SUB and he is the perfect description as DOM. He will do lot more things with her under his shell.
Those things are new to Indian literature now days and D/S relations are often trying for experiment with lot of couples here.
Again best luck for your wonderful story and hope this comment will not bother you if you think different aspects of story.
______________________________

[Ramesh_Rocky]

cplus-

Wow dear ,you are a excellent writer, be it the plot or the narration or the conversation or the discription of emotion nd the actual act
You are writing a masterpiece which can give so much pleasure only by reading it nd thinking oneself in the place of Sheetal
I am Sujata nd my hubby asked me to read your story only yesterday, I hv finished upto last update today nd all the while being a silent reader mostly I temted to express my feelings
I came across some sexual encounters with these low class guys but I can say I enjoyed reading your story more than the actual encounters, specially the banging of Sheetal by those Bangali workers
I didnt like much the humiliation by Jamal
I love both side equally active nd pasdionate in loving
Keep writing nd entertain us
One more thing - I am now tempted to do it with some of those guys nd my ..... is flowing nd ticklibg for those big nd fat ones .... of course hard ones like steel rods
Thanks

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Birju seemed to be seriously pondering what the price of the information should be. I stroked his erection over his clothes. One hand of his was playing with my boobs as he thought. Mohan was looking at us in the mirror and I wondered if he had his dick out again.


"Pull your tits out. I think Mohan would like that." he said.

My hands went to the bottom of my bra and I pulled it up, making my jugs hang loose. Birju played with my naked tits now, pinching my nipples as Mohan stared at the mirror.

"Okay, so tell me." I said.

"What do you want to know?"

"Is my husband having an affair with Barkha?"

"Barkha certainly is a horny young thing. You would like her, memsaab. She is just like you."

"In what way?"

"She loves sex just like you do."

"You still haven't answered my question."

Birju ignored what I said and took his thick raspy tongue out and started licking my nipples. I squirmed in arousal, but was still intent on getting the information I needed. At the same time, being displayed like that to the poor driver as the bus sped through the streets was making me feel really randy.

"So what if your husband is having a little fun on the side?" Birju said after biting my nipple. "You are having fun here."

"I would still like to know."

"Okay....here's the thing. Barkha has a reputation around town of being somewhat of a slut. And she really seems to favor older handsome men who are married. I don't know of any man she has set her eyes on who was been able to resist her charms. So to answer your question, although I don't know it for a fact, the word around town is that yes, she and your husband are having a fling."

I don't know why I felt so upset. Or if I even had a right to be upset. After all, here I was, my tits hanging out, being felt up by a strange man. So even if my husband was having an affair, what right did I have to be miffed? But I still felt angry. However, word around town didn't mean confirmation.

"Can you find out for sure? Ouch!" I said as he bit my nipple hard.

"Maybe." he said.

That's when the bus started slowing down. I saw it approaching a bunch of men standing by the side of the road. Conscious of these new arrivals, I pushe Birju's face away and pulled my bra down. I quickly started fastening my blouse and just about managed to get my pallu back up and appear decent as the door opened and the men started climbing in. They were all Bangladeshi immigrants, just like the ones I had fucked in the outhouse. Lean, dirty, and nervous.

When the men saw me sitting there - an elegantly dressed high class lady, they seemed taken aback, A couple of them looked petrified, and even seemed to want to run away. I had no idea why.

"They are scared of you, memsaab." Birju smiled and explained. "They see someone like you sitting here, and they think, maybe you are a government officer here to check their papers and arrest them for being here illegally."

"It's okay, guys. Don't worry. Come in an sit down." he said to assure them, but didn't offer any more information.

Nine men boarded the mini-bus and sat down, each of them staring at me nervously. Most of them were in vests and lungis, and some were wearing shorts. My presence in that rickety bus seemed to have unnerved them. They didn't say anything as Mohan closed the door and we started moving again. But they still seemed to be fearful, expecting me to interrogate them any moment. I felt strangely powerful.

Despite that fear on their faces though, they were still men looking at a pretty and buxom woman. I saw many of their eyes glance at my chest which was again neatly covered in multiple layers of clothing, but still obviously large.

I was very conscious of their gazes as they kept looking at me. I kept thinking back to how those three compatriots of theirs had fucked me in the outhouse. Would these guys want to as well? I felt a certain tension building up in the atmosphere, and my breathing got a little heavier. Birju sensed the change in my attitude too. I felt his hand on my thigh.

"What are you doing?" I whispered as a few of the men sitting in the rows lose to us noticed what he had done.

"Don't you like it?" he whispered back. "I was actually thinking you should take your tits out again and flash these men."

"Are you insane? There's like nine men here, all of whom have probably left their wives back in Bangladesh." I said.

"Exactly. Which is why they will really appreciate it. They may even pay you for the privilege of a quick look at your fantastic tits."

"I am not a prostitute." I said, offended.

"Not every woman who pleases these men for money is a prostitute." he said. "As you said, they are alone here, away from their wives. They have needs. And some married women too have needs, as you very well know. So it is just a convenient arrangement sometimes."

"What are you saying? That women from our town sleep with these men for money?" I asked incredulously.

"Now, now, memsaab." he said, moving his hand up and down my thigh as the men stared. "You are asking me to give out privileged information again."

---

[Ramesh_Rocky]

"Stop that!" I emphatically said as Birju moved his hand to my stomach.


"Why are you being so shy, memsaab? From what I hear, you have a thing for Bangalis."

I kept quiet and glared at him as he sat back and smiled. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. It was a roll of bidis. He handed them out and most of the men took one.

"Here's the light." he said, holding a lighter just a few inches in front of my boobs. All the men, turn by turn, lowered their heads to light their bidis, and gazed at my chest nervously. The looks of nervous arousal on those bearded faces started making me feel turned on. The bus was soon filled with tobacco smoke.

"Did you like that, memsaab?" Birju asked, putting a hand on my shoulder. "The way all these poor men stared at your boobs?"

"No." I said, but my tone suggested otherwise.

"Let's give them a better look shall we?"

There was a collective gasp in the bus as the men saw Birju pull my pallu down. Now they were looking at the small bit of cleavage peeking out of my blouse and looking at the black globes that my boobs were under the fabric.

Watching those hungry horny faces all around me made a motor start running inside me. I realized that I really wanted this. I even needed this. If my husband was screwing some young local hottie, why should I feel guilty about satisfying my urges? I didn't move as Birju started opening the hooks of my blouse. Soon the men were staring at my bra.

"Looks like Shafiq is as turned on as you, memsaab." Birju laughed and nodded towards the guy who was sitting in the seat right in front of me. He was sucking at the bidi and staring at my tits as a tent stood in his lungi.

"Did you work hard today, Shafiq?" Birju asked as he pushed his fingers inside my bra and pulled my right breast out.

"Yes, very hard." the little guy said, staring at my exposed nipple and licking his lips.

"Are you tired?"

"Very tired."

"Then maybe it is time to do something about your exhaustion. Do you like this woman?"

He eagerly nodded.

"She likes you too. She is a very nice lady who likes hardworking men. And don't look so nervous." Birju said and lowering his voice almost conspiratorially, he said, "this nice memsaab wants you to touch her and play with her if you like. And it's okay if you do it in front of everyone. She likes being watched."

I sat there, alarms blaring in my head as Birju offered me up to some random laborer.

"You asshole." I said to Birju as the young Bengali, not able to believe his luck, reached with his hands and touched my exposed tit.

"Will you let memsaab play with your dick, Shafiq?"

The guy nodded eagerly and pulled up the front of his lungi, exposing an erect circumcised dick. My hand was drawn to it almost magnetically and I wrapped my fingers around it. The rest of the guys in the bus watched shellshocked as I started jacking off their buddy as he played with my boob. Suddenly, Birju pulled me into a long hard kiss. he then blew some bidi smoke on my face, making me cough.

"You asshole." I said again, but kept pleasuring the young Bangali in front of me.

Suddenly the bus slowed down and came to a standstill.

"We are here, boss." Mohan said. I had forgotten about his existence.

I looked out the window. We were in a deserted area with a bunch of jhopdi huts, where the men presumably lived. A few of them reluctantly got up, still staring at me.

"These men have to go to their jhopdis now, memsaab. Unless you want to go with them."

"What?" I asked, my hand still jerking the exposed dick.

"Nine virile exhausted horny men far from their homes. Imagine how it will feel going into a jhopdi with them and showing them your pussy. And sucking their dicks."

"Are you crazy?" I asked. Playing around with 2-3 men occasionally was fine. But all these men? What was he thinking?

"If you do, I will help you out with your husband's situation. I will get you proof that he and Barkha are sleeping together."

"You want me to have sex with all these men?" I asked incredulously.

"No. That might be too much. But it will be nice if you give them a blowjob. It will be a great memory for them."

I looked around at the eager faces. I looked at the dick in my hand and wondered how it would taste in my mouth.

"And if I do this, you will bring me proof of my husband's affair?"

"Yup."

I felt the familiar sensation of depravity surging inside me. That demonic side of my personality that derives pleasure from being used and abused by working class poor men. My submissive side which is fed by such adventures, regardless of how much I denied it.

"Okay, I will go into a jhopdi with them and suck their dicks and show them my pussy."

I couldn't believe my own voice as I said that. The men around me looked more shocked than pleased that a high class memsaab had agreed to do this.

"Very good." Birju patted my back as I got up.

The men trooped out of the bus and I followed them. Shafiq was walking next to me and I kept wanking his cock as we got off the bus and headed towards a jhopdi.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

foogy-

awesome...
the humiliation aspects are coming down more and more as she becomes more and more an willing participant.
Not being willing participant can still make her orgasm or enjoy once she is forced into specific acts.. my 2 cents..

[Ramesh_Rocky]

There was a lot of excited an nervous murmuring as I walked with the men, my blouse open and tits hanging out. Shafiq was overcome by arousal when he saw that I didn't even bat an eyelid walking exposed like that in the open, that he started spurting his jizz right there on the street. It wasn't really a big deal for me. It was the middle of the afternoon in a remote place and I didn't see any onlookers nearby.


I was taken to what seemed like the relatively largest jhopdi towards the back. The ten men and I walked into an unevenly shaped rectangular hut with mud walls, a thatched roof, earthern floor, and just some bare minimum bedding and cooking material.

"How do you want to do this?" Birju asked me as the men stared at my erect nipples.

"I don't know. It's not something I am too experienced with. And it was your idea." I shrugged.

"Are you okay sucking all their dicks?"

"Why else do you think I am here? For the view? But remember, you have to get me proof about Vinay and Barkha."

"Yeah, yeah." Birju waved a hand dismissively.

The poor thin laborers were all standing crowded in a corner, too scared to make a move. Shafiq looked the most relieved, now that I had already wanked his tension off. The others still seemed unsure if this was actually going to happen. I wondered if they had heard about me from those other Bangali men I exposed myself to and fucked in the outhouse. Did all migrants also talk and gossip like the people of our town? Was I known even to these men as a slut? Did they think I had a Bangali fetish?

"Okay, men. Here's how things will progress. Everybody stand in a line. With your dicks out. Memsaab will show you her pussy. It's probably a shaved pink pussy like with rich high class women. Won't you like to see that? And if you're nice, maybe she'll even show you her ass. You can see how nice, big and round the ass is. And then she will suck your dicks. Remember not to be impolite.And don't tell anyone this has happened. In return, you know my usual fee as broker."

I watched amazed and disgusted as Birju went around collecting 50 rupees from each of the men. He had talked about how he used to arrange for women to come and fuck these men. I had thought of it as idle chatter meant to get me excited.

"What's with the money? Who said anything about money?" I asked Birju angrily.

"It's my finder's fee. And trust me memsaab, when they pay something, they actually behave better. If you're just going to be giving it away for free, they will not respect you."

It was a very bizarre kind of logic but I let it go. The nine men lined up soon, some fully naked, some just bottomless. Not all were erect. Some were furiously playing with their dicks, trying to coax life into them. These men were probably intimidated by the confident presence of a tall fair high class memsaab in their midst. Maybe they thought it was too good to be true. And they didn't know that I already done much more with some of their compatriots.

I started unwrapping the black sari, looking at the men turn by turn. My opened blouse was still on and the boobs still hung out of my bra. I rolled up the sari without wrinkling it and put it on top of a small mattress.

"Memsaab, just show them a glimpse of your pussy for maybe 20 seconds. And then put it away. You don't want the men trying something more that has not been agreed to." Birju said, rubbing his own crotch.

"Okay." I said, amused at Birju's bizarre sense of propriety. He's the one who first offered me up to these men. And now he was the one orchestrating things and making money off my body. And yet, also giving me cautionary advice.

What if the men tried something more, I wondered as I looked at their lean tight dark brown bodies and their skinny petrified faces. Birju was the one who seemed to have a problem with it, probably because he probably wanted to have me to himself. After all, other than the forced blowjob in the woods, he had never really gotten a real shot at me. I on the other hand, was feeling a sexual cyclone brewing in my loins as I looked at the men politely lined up.

Did I have a fetish for poor thin migrant workers from Bangladesh, I wondered? Even during the whole time with Jamal, I soent more time everyday thinking about what those men thought of me, if they liked what the saw, and their general opinion about my character. I never gave two hoots about what Jamal thought or even earlier, what Bajwa thought or these other nukkad guys thought of me. But when it came to Bangladeshi workers, my heart would started beating faster and my mind would start racing.

Even now, as I untied the knot of my petticoat, I stared at those eager faces, those intense black eyes, those shuddering hard dicks, and started wondering what they thought of me. A high class prostitute or just a horny characterless housewife with a taste for strangers' cocks?

[Ramesh_Rocky]

cplus-

Ohhh Bangali fetish!!!!
It sure does exist for sheetal nd me both
Thanks dear for inttoducing these Bangali workers
Cant wait for action
Update fast

[Ramesh_Rocky]

teebone1985-

wow wow wow....a blow bang ..... i ant read that in any of other stories.....man o man.... i bow in front of you...

[Ramesh_Rocky]

The petticoat fell to the floor and all eighteen eyes moved south in unison. I was wearing red lace boyshorts style panties, which covered more of my privates than bikini style panties would have. Suddenly, with all those hungry men staring, I felt glad for that. Looking at the red lace cover my front, staring at my long shapely legs, even the couple of guys who hadn't gotten hard yet started feeling their members come to life. I felt flattered.


"Look at that. Red chaddis. Very cute, isn't it, men?" Birju was standing to side watching all the men and me.

The men murmured or nodded, and kept staring at my panties. The suggestion had been to flash them my pussy and maybe my ass for a few seconds and then suck them off. I looked at the eager almost emaciated hard faces and felt bad for them. I put my thumbs in the side of my panties, turned around and bent over. I knew this would be a lifetime memory for the men and wanted to do it right, do it seductively. Thrusting my ass out by arching my back, I started lowering the panties very gradually. I heard a chorus of happy sighs.

First the top of my cheeks came into view as well as the crack. Then they men saw my naked skin flare outwards into a circular curve and also saw flawless and creamy my round buttocks were. I parted my legs a little so that my ass cheeks might separate and give them a glimpse of my asshole. Finally when the panties were lowered all the way below my crotch, I parted my legs even further, knowing that they were now getting a back view of my shaved pussy. I heard a lot more sighs and sharply drawn breaths and even heard a couple of happy moans.

"Haha, you came already?" Birju said cackling and I assumed one of the men had spurted just as the sight of what I was showing him.

I stayed bent over for what was probably just 20 seconds, but felt like an eternity. I was in a random jhopdi in the middle of nowhere, displaying myself in the most intimate way possible to a bunch of migrant workers who probably hadn't fucked a woman in years, if ever. Slowly, I straightened and then turned around, standing there with my legs spread, the panties stretched around my knees. Now the men got a frontal view of my naked pussy.

"See what I told you. Completely hairless, smooth and so fine." Birju said, sounding a little horny himself.

I looked at all the men's faces admiring my naked pussy while also stealing glances at my heaving tits. It made me feel not just kinky and aroused, but also like I was providing a much needed charity service for these men working their butts off in a foreign land. To my mind, playing with these guys was a lot more emotionally satisfying than dancing to the tunes of the boorish local thugs.

"Okay, that's enough of a look." Birju said and I obediently pulled my panties up.

The men seemed a little disappointed that the pussy show had ended. So to give them a consolation prize, I slipped off my blouse and put it on the mattress. I knew that the next step of the task was to suck their dicks. I marveled at the change in my attitude towards blowjob. Until recently, I always hated them. But after these months in the cow belt, I was almost eagerly looking forward to suck a variety of these workmen's dicks.

Seductively I walked, dressed in my panties and my bra to the man standing at the end of the line closest to me. My tits were hanging out of the cups and he could see my nipples were erect. I looked into his eyes. He was stroking an average sized dick. I slowly lowered my hips in front of him and squatted. I looked at that first dick. It was decently girthy, circumcised, and the skin was dark black. I wrapped my left hand around the base and lowered my wide open lips around the tip, slowly letting it invade my mouth.

"Ohhhhh!!!" the man cried out in delight. He put his left hand on my head and stroked it.

"Your technique has improved a lot since the last time we met, memsaab." Birju chuckled.

I pushed my head back and forth, tightening my tongue around the bottom of his dick. With my left hand, I also stroked the shaft.

"You can take it all the way in, memsaab. He won't mind." Birju said as the other men watched in anticipation of their turns.

I took my hand off the shaft and put it on his thighs. Then I slowly pushed my head forward, watching his pubic hair come closer as I let the dick proceed further and further in my mouth. Soon my nose was buried in his thick public jungle and the dick had disappeared completely inside my mouth as my lower lip rubbed against his shivering testicles.

"Wow, she has swallowed it all! Look at her beautifully puffed cheeks." Birju said.

"Oh god!!!" the man suddenly shuddered. I feel his dick rumble inside my mouth and soon his warm sticky seed was splashing against the back of my throat. His hand on my head tightened and he held me in place to prevent me from backing away. He need not have worried. I was loving the dirty feeling of my first blow job of the day ending so triumphantly.

When he finished cumming in my mouth, he released my head. I bent back, letting my lips rub against his now softening shaft and pursed my lips closed as soon as his dick exited them. Holding my lips together and my cheeks puffed up by the vast amount of semen in my mouth, I looked up at him. He looked so happy, I felt glad for him. Making eye contact with him for the next few seconds, I swallowed his juice, letting out a glugging noise.

"Memsaab is hungry!!" said a delighted Birju. "Who will feed her next?"

I felt a hand on my hair and I was being pulled towards the next guy who had gotten impatient. His dick was smaller than the first guy's but his balls were disproportionately large. I felt tempted to tell him to get them checked out by a doctor, but instead, I opened my mouth and sucked on those hairy wrinkled globes.

"Look, she is sucking his balls!" Birju said and there was a chorus of laughter at the sight of a memsaab's pretty face wrapped around a worker's balls as his shaft rested on her nose.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

That comment and the laughter, far from upsetting me, made me even more eager about what I was doing. I used my right hand to grab his dick and move it to the side as I sucked his other ball. Some of the pubic hair came loose and got stuck on my tongue. So I took my mouth away and spat the hair out, reflexively coughing a little. I looked up into his eyes. Looked up the non-descript daily wage migrant who I normally would not throw a second glance. And here I was sucking his balls, squatting there half-naked His face wore a proud expression as he was experiencing what was probably the pinnacle of his existence. He was lording over a rich high class memsaab who was squatting under him, sucking his balls and spitting out his pubic hair.


It must have been an empowering moment because I felt his other hand go behind me. His fingers struggled with the clasp of my bra for a few seconds, suggesting that he wasn't really experienced in the act of taking bras off. Finally he got the hook loose. I moved my arms to let the bra come off, and then finally moved my attention from his balls to his dick. I was able to take all of it in at the first attempt. But I sucked it more gently, wanting his pleasure to last longer.

From the corner of my eye, I saw that my D-cup bra was being passed around the room. The men were rubbing it against their face, smelling the insides of the cup for the scent of my sweat and my perfume, imagining how those things had held up the huge jugs that were now swinging right there as I sucked the man's dick.

Meanwhile the guy next to him, eager for his turn, was inching closer and closer. One hand on his dick, he bent down and with the other hand started playing with my tits. I shivered at the touch of his rough sweaty palms on my nipples.

"Haha, so eager that you are ganging up on memsaab, huh?" Birju editorialized. "Don't worry, she is experienced in handling multiple men at the same time."

As if to prove Birju's point, I moved my right hand to this new guy's dick and started gently stroking it even as I sucked the dick in my mouth. My lefthand was playing with the huge balls, and randomly trying to detect cancerous lumps.

All the squatting was making my back hurt so I got down on my knees, clad only in my red lace boyshorts panties. I positioned myself between the two men. I moved my mouth to the third guy's dick and sucked it for a few moments. It was uncircumcised, giving hints about his background. His body didn't seem to mind that I was dividing my attention between them, now jacking his dick off with my hand as I sucked the other one. And then I switched back after a couple of minutes. I was being a really horny slut, attacking the two dicks with my mouth and my hands very efficiently.

Suddenly I felt a big smack on my ass. I took my face off the dick I was sucking and looked back. It was Birju, with a wide grin on his face, bent down with his huge palm next to my ass.

"Look at the way you are hungrily sucking their dicks. Didn't you have lunch?"

He spanked me hard over my panties again making me yelp a little, and the momentum pushed my face into one of the men's dicks.

"Or maybe that is your secret diet, right, memsaab? Eating so much cum everyday is how you maintain such a heavenly hourglass figure. Where your waist is so thin and your stomach is so flat but your ass is big, fat and round."

The other men seemed surprised but also pervertedly delighted at Birju trash talking a high class memsaab and spanking her ass like she was some misbehaving child. Suddenly the guy on my left moved towards my back bent down and landed a couple of spanks of his own. None of these spanks were hard enough to hurt me but I made OWWWW noises loudly, knowing it would make the men happy.

How rapidly things change in this new lifestyle I had embraced, I pondered. A few hours ago, I was a powerful bank manager's wife, dressed in an elegant sari, surrounded by my social peers as I munched on samosas and sipped juice while making small talk. And here I was, surrounded by a bunch of penniless migrant workers, wearing just my panties as I sucked their dicks and got spanked loudly.

After spanking me a few times, the guy straightened and I got back to my double blowjob task. Birju also took a step back and let me continue. In a couple of minutes, both men came inside my mouth and I swallowed my "secret diet" as Birju had called it.

I got up to move to the next man. As I walked, I slipped my fingers into the back of my panties to adjust them. The squatting, the kneeling, and the spanks had made the panties ride up my ass crack and I was pulling the fabric off. I noticed that a few of the men saw what I was doing and smiled with pleasure. I guess that act was yet another reminder of how I, an unattainable high class woman, had been brought down to the common level. Everyone in the world, male or female, experiences the phenomenon of underwear riding up and having to pull it out. To see an ethereal beauty, nearly naked, doing that, seemed to tickle a lot of the guys. And it tickled me too.

Smiling shyly, I got on my knees again in front of the next guy. Hello, what do we have here, I said to myself. The man's circumcised dick was only semi-erect and resting lazily over his balls. I took it as a minor insult that even after all I had done, flashing my pussy and my ass, sucking off other guys, getting spanked, this guy couldn't even get it all the way up. But as I noticed the dormant snake, I realize that there was some potential here. Even in that semi-erect state, the dick was about 6 inches long and reasonably thick. I looked up at the guy. He was skinny and short, but seemed to be packing a disproportionately large weapon. Maybe, I reasoned, he was having trouble getting or staying hard because the dick was substantial and would require a lot of blood.

No problem, I thought to myself. I could coax all the blood necessary into his penile veins. Staring into his eyes I wrapped my lips around the soft but thick sausage and sucked hard. The dick seemed to respond instantly and I felt it getting thicker inside my mouth.

"Mmmm..." the guy put his hand on my cheeks and moaned.