Adultery UNFAITHFUL MOTHERS AND HOUSEWIVES --- stranger_women
Almost a month later, Mansi was sitting with Reena in a high end Chinese restaurant in Bandra, deftly picking up dumplings with chopsticks and appearing very comfortable in the high end surroundings. Reena had been getting constant updates from Dutt on the progress he was making. She admired the slow pace with which he had moved. But she could also sense that he was getting a bit impatient and wanted to seal the deal. So Reena called up Mansi and made a lunch date. To hear from her first hand how things were going and to get a better sense of the situation.

"Life can be so much better with some extra money." Mansi said. "I know it sounds like an obvious thing to say. But the extra income has really made my life so much better. And Pinky's. She loves getting new toys and dresses and fancy desserts. Even Amar has started enjoying the materialistic side of things."
"That's nice." Reena smiled.
"The other day, on a whim, I said let's go to a nice restaurant. I assured him that with my extra income, we can afford it. He was reluctant at first, but enjoyed the meal thoroughly. And Pinky was delighted to be able to choose whatever dessert she wanted."
"Have you told Amar the truth about your job yet?" Reena asked. "He must have started wondering how you are making 25-30 thousand for what is supposed to be basic work like you told him."
Mansi frowned a little.
"Honestly, I still haven't been able to tell him the truth. About the job or even how much money I am making. He has always been a bit of a ignoramus on matters of money and budget. And besides, most of the money stays in that college account that he never checks."
"Hmmm...just most of the money?"
Mansi winced a little.
"I know that when I initially decided to do this, it was for Pinky's college fund. And that is still the main goal. But occasionally, I can't help but indulge myself a little, so I take cash out from it. I do feel guilty."
"Don't feel guilty, Mansi." Reena said. "There is nothing wrong with wanting good things from life. Besides, you are making enough money. And you can make even more if you want. I am sure Duttsahab won't mind spending even more days in Bombay. He is quite smitten with you."
Mansi blushed, and that pleased Reena. Her reaction had been almost like a young girl being told that someone had a crush on her. Not offended or indignant.
"Please aunty, don't even joke about it." she said. "He is old enough to be my father."
"Yes, but the heart doesn't care about such things. Whenever I talk to him about you, I can sense the longing in his voice." she laughed and then added. "But seriously, Mansi, how are things going with you and him? Everything okay?"
"It's mostly nice. He is a very polite and generous man. Spending time with him doesn't seem like work. Most of the time, it is just parties and events. Sometimes though..." she paused.
"Sometimes what?"
"I don't know if I should say this. You are his old friend after all." Mansi sounded evasive.
"Nonsense, I am your friend first. Tell me."
"Sometimes he gets a bit...aggressive after a few drinks."
"Aggressive?"
"Suddenly he will start ordering me around. Touch me on the hand or shoulder a little longer than normal. In the car, sometimes he will just stare at me, and give me compliments."
"So he acts a little flirtatious. So what? That's how people behave in high society."
"I guess. I am just not used to it." Mansi shrugged. "Mostly, I know it is because of the alcohol. Drink can make men do strange things."
"Can you tell me one thing honestly?"
"Of course."
"Do you...like it?"
"Like what?"
"His flirtatious behavior or aggressive behavior or his touch. Honestly, do you feel just uncomfortable or is there a part of you that actually likes it? Be honest, woman to woman."
The question caught Mansi off-guard. In her own introspection, she had been struggling with this issue. That often when he touched her or showered her with compliments, the only thing stopping her from responding was the fact that she was married. It was her sense of morality and propriety. But if he had come into her life eight years ago, who knows what would have happened.
"You see aunty... I never had a boyfriend. My parents were too strict, and you know how Meerut is. I read all these romantic novels and watched all these movies. And heard stories of some friends who had affairs and lovers. But for me, the only thing was arranged marriage. Amar and I barely knew each other. So this flirtatious behavior from Duttsahab..."
"It is filling in some sort of a void?"
"Maybe. And I just find myself not minding it as much as I could or should." Mansi shrugged. "Does that make me a bad person?"
"Not at all." Reena smiled. "It just makes you human. Besides, you are stuck in an unhappy marriage and..."
"Excuse me!" Mansi interrupted her. "I wouldn't say stuck in an unhappy marriage."
"Oh come on, Mansi!" Reena raised her voice. "Who are you kidding? From that day we met in the mall, you have been complaining about your husband."
"Yes, but which marriage is perfect?" Mansi argued. "I am happy with Amar. And with Pinky. Yes, there are some small issues, but you're making it sound like I am a hostage."
"You ARE a hostage. But not a hostage held by Amar. You are a hostage to your own archaic value system and lack of self-belief."
"I disagree." Mansi pouted.
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There was a tense moment. Reena tried to smooth it over by laughing a little.

"I didn't mean to offend you. But think about it, Mansi. In Duttsahab, there is a man who obviously likes you a lot. Cares for you. And you seem to at least find him not undesirable. And he is rich and generous. In just a couple of months, he has turned your life around. If you were to...explore things further...who knows? Think about the future. Think about Pinky's future."
"What exactly are you saying? That I should leave my husband and take up with Duttsahab?"
"No, of course not. I am saying...just keep an open mind. There are ways in which you can have your cake and eat it too."
"So...become his mistress?" Mansi almost shouted.
"Not exactly mistress. That's such a cheap 19th century word." Reena dismissively said. "Have you heard of the term friends with benefits?"
"No."
"Look it up online when you go home." Reena said. "It's not that different from what you already have with him. You both enjoy each other's company. You are both benefiting from this arrangement. And it's just a few days a month. You yourself said it has made your family life a lot happier. If you explore things further, you will benefit even more, trust me. And I am not just saying financially."
"Do you know what you're suggesting?" Mansi said horrified.
"If you think from the medieval middle class Meerut values mindset, what I am suggesting is evil and sinful and horrible. But you know there is a bigger world out there. You have tasted that world. You have started fitting into that world. Think from that enlightened perspective and you will see that what I am suggesting is the best of both worlds." Reena paused to finish the last of her food. "Anyway, I have said what I had to say. What follows is up to you."
Mansi thought about all these things on her way back home. She was in an Uber. Before meeting Reena, she almost exclusively traveled by locals. But she had gotten so used to the air conditioned car rides with Dutt, that she had started using cab services regularly.
She herself did not realize how access to easy money was changing her. When others made a lot of money, it was through their careers or business. They spent most of their free time working to make that money and got very little time to spend it. Here. she was making 25-30 thousand rupees for just a few days work, that too for a few hours. And had the rest of the days free, even with her household chores. She found herself shopping a lot more, indulging a lot more, and not just for Pinky. For herself too.
In addition, Dutt made sure that every other day they spent together involved shopping as well. he wanted to get her almost addicted to materialistic life.In addition to the skirt suits, he had bought her a sari, some earrings, a bracelet, and many toys for Pinky. And when she checked the bank account, she realized that everything he bought her were genuine gifts, not compensation. Because even after buying her expensive gifts,there was still anywhere from 5 to 8 thousand rupees added to the account every time she spent a few hours with him. His hold over her was strengthening. He got the first sign of it the first time she wore the skirt suit at an event. He noticed that as instructed, she had shaved her legs. Shaving body hair was an alien concept to the demure middle class housewife. She had to go online and check how exactly women shave their legs. It seemed so odd and weird. But Duttsahab had told her to do it, so she felt compelled to comply.
Then there was the fact that she really was enjoying his flirtatious behavior a lot more than she cared to admit to Reena aunty or even to herself. When in the car, he started sitting closer and closer to her, and she did not stop him. Once while returning from an event in South Bombay, he had a few too many drinks, and dozed off on her shoulder. She did not know that he was pretending to be asleep, just to test her comfort zone. The entire way from King's Circle to Borivali, his head was resting on her shoulder, and she could feel his warm breath on her skin. Later that day when she scolded herself for allowing that to happen, she rationalized it by saying that she herself had downed a couple of drinks, so it was an honest mistake.
 
His touching also became more prolonged and bold than she found comfortable describing to Reena aunty. Once at an art exhibition, when she was wearing a sari, he had casually slipped his arm around her and placed his hand on the naked skin above her waist. She had almost jumped out of her skin, but didn't push his hand away. For about ten minutes, they walked like that, with a lot of the visitors around noting to themselves that the old millionaire seemed to have a young hot girlfriend.
Almost everyday, Mansi felt tempted to just talk to Amar about all this. Tell him the true nature of her "job", tell him about the flirtatious generous benefactor behind the uptick in their lifestyle. But she couldn't. She couldn't talk to anyone. She had no real friends to speak of. She couldn't discuss such things with her parents or relatives. And the only one she could talk to, Reena aunty, had in fact suggested she forge ahead. What was that term she used? Friends with benefits? Mansi fished out her phone and googled the term. And read the description wide-eyed.
--
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The next Sunday, Mansi was cleaning up the kitchen after lunch, when Pinky walked in with her phone that she had left in the living room.

"Mamma, it's ringing."
Pinky handed it over and then ran back to the living room where she was watching TV with her father. Mansi recognized the number. She answered after making sure Amar was still in the living room.
"Hello."
"Mansi, it's me. The car is on the way. Be ready in ten minutes." Dutt casually said.
"What? I can't come today. It's a Sunday! My daughter is home."
"So what? Your husband will be home too, right? He can take care of her."
She was a little pissed at how casually he was dictating what she should do with her family life.
"Listen Duttsahab, this is not acceptable. I have a family, a life of my own. I am happy to meet you tomorrow. But I can't just drop everything and..."
"Don't argue with me, Mansi." Dutt sternly said. "Besides, I am leaving for Europe tomorrow. Will be gone for a couple of months. So today is the only day I have."
"Then we will meet after you come back. I really can't come today."
"Either you meet me today as I have instructed. Or then we are through. I will never call you again, and you never call me again."
"Fine." she angrily said and hung up.
Mansi was a little breathless with tension and anger. Who did he think he was, ordering her to just come to him like she was his property? He had been acting a bit more demanding recently but this was the absolute limit. He wanted to cut off all contacts over this? Fine. She was getting by with life okay before she met him. She would get by fine after too. Thinking these thoughts, she angrily scrubbed the kitchen counter clean.
Then she walked out to the living room and saw Pinky watching TV while playing with the new Italian dolls Dutt had bought for her. She saw the look of pure joy on her daughter's face.
"Amar." she said.
"Hmmm?" he replied, still looking at the TV.
"I need to go help out at the hotel. It's an emergency. A couple of people who were supposed to help out got food poisoning."
"But today is a Sunday." Amar sourly said. "Pinky is home."
"I know. It will just be a few hours. You can look after her."
"Me...look after her?" Amar sounded almost shocked.
"She is your daughter too, you know?" Mansi sarcastically replied.
"Okay, okay. If you have to go, then go." Amar was taken aback at her feisty response.
Mansi went to the bedroom to get ready.
Dutt sat waiting in the car, checking his watch every few minutes. He was afraid he had pushed her too far out of her comfort zone. And that threat to never call her again if she didn't come...seemed like a good idea at first but maybe it was a mistake. Ten minutes turned to fifteen and then to twenty. Maybe she wasn't coming. He almost told the driver to start driving when there she came, around the corner. Dutt smiled with self-assurance. She was wearing a dark red sari, and carrying an imported purse he had bought for her. She seemed to be scowling. But the important thing was, she was here.
"Hi." he said when she opened the door.
She just pouted and got in, shutting the door a little too hard.
"You're unbelievable." she said in a surly voice, folding her hands across her chest.
He just shrugged. She saw that he had a champagne bottle open. He poured some in a flute and held it out for her.
"I don't want it."
"Have some. You know you like it. And it'll calm you down."
"I said I don't want it."
"Mansi!" he said harshly. "Stop acting like a petulant child and spoiling the mood. I told you to have it, so have it."
Reluctantly, she took the champagne and sipped some. Over the last few weeks, she had developed a taste for alcohol. She still had enough self-control to not get too drunk like at the art gallery. But most of the events they attended had alcohol being served. Whenever she got back home, she was usually a little buzzed. Amar once even smelled alcohol on her breath and asked her about it. She said it was just a celebratory toast. After that, she started brushing her teeth and using mouthwash before he got home.
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They rode in silence for a while. The champagne did calm her down a little. But she was still not completely at peace.

"Why am I doing this?" she said out loud.
"What?" Dutt looked at her.
"Why am I here? Why did I just lie to my husband, leave my daughter at home, and come here?"
"You know why." he smiled.
"It's not all about money." she said, more to herself than to Dutt.
"I didn't mean it was about the money."
"Then what did you mean?"
"What do you think I meant?"
"Duttsahab, please! Stop playing games with me." Mansi said, reaching for the bottle to refill her glass.
Dutt said nothing, started looking out of the window and sipped champagne.
"Where are we going anyway that is so important? Another corporate event? Another exhibition?"
"Neither of those." he said.
"Then?"
"We are just going to my suite in Reena's hotel. Like I told you, I won't be in the country for a couple of months. So I just wanted to spend some quality time with you. You know by now that I love spending time with you."
Mansi was a little taken aback by this revelation. Until now, all the time they had spent together had been in public. And now he was just simply taking her to his hotel suite? To what end?
"What are we going to do in the hotel suite?"
"We can do whatever we want." Dutt cryptically said.
"Will Reena aunty be there?"
"Not unless you want her to be."
Mansi clammed up and thought some more. Finally she said,
"What if I ask you to just drop me home right now?"
"I will drop you home right now..."
"But?"
"You know but what?"
"We will never meet again?"
He just shrugged.
"So I don't really have a choice." Mansi said.
"Everyone always has a choice, Mansi."
The car sped through the relatively empty Sunday streets and was soon in Malad. At the hotel, a valet opened the door of the limo and the two of them stepped out. Every step Mansi took through the foyer and into the lobby made her seem like she was wearing shoes made of lead. Dutt walked alongside her, feeling nervous and excited himself. After Reena reported her conversation back to him, he decided that the time was ripe. Clearly, Mansi had at least some feelings for him. The ultimate test would be an ultimatum. It was a big gamble, but it had paid off.
He still wasn't sure how far he should go though. Over the last few weeks, he had slowly but surely increased moments of tender physical intimacy between them. And now, without making up any ruse, he had told this young housewife that he was taking her to his hotel room in the middle of the day. Even she wasn't innocent enough to not realize the implication of that. And yet here she was. A little upset, a little scared, but still, willingly walking with him.
They walked into a suite that was even more plush and fancy than Reena's. But unlike that time, Mansi barely noticed the expensive decorations and fittings. Her mind was preoccupied with a struggle. She was still replaying his line about everyone always having a choice in her mind.
"So what next?" she asked.
"Have a seat."
"Where?"
"Anywhere."
She walked to the single seater love seat in the living area and sat down in it.
"More champagne?" he asked.
"Just a little. I get a headache if I have too much." she said.
"Only cheap regular champagnes they serve at those events cause headaches. Not this one. This is really special. I have been saving it for a special occasion."
He went to the bar area and took a bottle from a ice bucket where it had been left by the hotel staff at his orders. Mansi looked at the bottle. It didn't look too special or different from the other champagne bottles she had seen.
"It is one of the most elite champagnes in the world. Moet and Chandon Dom Perignon. Costs about 40,000 rupees in India."
"Oh, I see." she knew him long enough to know that money was no object to him.
"Look at the year."
She read the label.
"1988." the champagne had been bottled in the same year that she had been born. She wondered if it was just a coincidence. But knowing him it had to be a deliberate decision.
Dutt unwrapped the foil and then using his thumb, deftly pressed the cork upwards. It flew up and landed on the floor. Fizz came out of the bottle. he quickly poured it in two flutes, handing one to Mansi.
"What shall we drink to?" he asked.
"I don't know."
"To special creations from 1988." he expansively said. That confirmed for Mansi the deliberateness of the selection. She took a sip, trying to calculate how much the sip cost, if the whole bottle was 40,000.
"It's really good." Mansi said.
"Of course it is. It is from 1988. Just like you."
Mansi smiled. Although she was still torn about even being there, the attention starved side of her found the gesture very grandiose and romantic. They sipped in silence for a few minutes. Then Dutt reached for a remote and the stereo in the room started playing some western classical music. He was going all out in this seduction attempt.
"Would you rather have the TV on instead?" Dutt asked.
"No, the music is fine." Mansi said, the expensive alcohol starting to have a slow effect on her. What am I doing, her brain cried out again. Why am I just calmly going along with this?
A few more minutes passed, with the music creating a romantic atmosphere. The room was already dimly lit. The champagne was flowing through their bloodstream. Mansi's heart was beating a thousand miles a minute. She was in the single love seat. He was at the close end of a couch perpendicular to her seat. Their knees were almost touching.
"What am I to you, Duttsahab?" she asked, the alcohol making her a bit bolder than usual.
"What do you mean?"
"The question is simple."
"You are someone very special that I want to make a part of my life."
"And of course, you want to make love to me?" Both she and Dutt were taken aback by the directness of that question.
"I do want to. Very much. Do you want to?" he turned the question back on her.
"I don't know. A large part of me finds the very idea too horrific to even contemplate. I have a husband, a reasonably happy life, a daughter I care about a lot."
"And yet you are here. So then the question is, what am I to you?" Dutt asked.
"I wish I knew." she shrugged and looked down.
Dutt leaned over until his face was very close to her. She thought he was about to try and kiss her. And she was trying to decided if she should back away.
"Give me your hands." he said instead, surprising her.
She put the champagne flute down and held out her hands. Dutt wrapped his own hands around hers and stared at her soft palms.
"They say you can read a person's entire life story in the lines of their hands. Do you know what I read in yours?" he softly asked.
"What?" she whispered.
"I read a life that is crying out for more. More happiness, more enlightenment, more pleasure, more love."
She thought about what he said. And before she could respond, he had slid down from the couch and grabbed her left foot.
"What are you doing? Please don't touch my feet." she was horrified. The conservative upbringing she had been through had hammered in this strange principle in her - that an older person touching a younger person's feet is not good. It should be the other way round.
"Relax, Mansi. Don't be so traditional. Just like your hands, your feet are god's creation. And they also tell a story."
Dutt slowly raised the foot in his hand and lowered his face to stare at them.
"Such beautiful feet. Elegant toes, with the toe rings. I have never told you this, Mansi, but one of the things I find the most beautiful about you are your toes."
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING???"
Mansi cried out in shock as Dutt opened his mouth and sucked on her left toe.
"Just relax, Mansi." he said and then kissed the top of her foot. With one hand, he started massaging her calf gently.
Mansi's brain was a vortex of chaos. Touching feet itself was weird. he was now licking and kissing them. What made her feel especially confused was that she liked what he was doing. After the initial shock of the big burly old man crouching at her feet and taking them in her mouth wore off, she actually found herself finding it a pleasant experience. Dutt had a foot fetish for many years, so he was adept at how to play with women's toes.
"Duttsahab..." she sighed. But then the tenseness of her body subsided.
He slowly rolled her sari and petticoat up to her knees, admiring her smooth shins. Mansi instantly contrasted this with the hurried artless way in which Amar would hitch her sari up. With half open eyes, she noticed Dutt reach for his champagne flute. And then she had an odd experience as he held her foot up tilted, put his open mouth at the toes, and poured the champagne down her shins. The cold liquid tickled her, and also made her feel a little aroused. She watched, as if a spectator outside her own body, as the champagne was poured down her leg and into Dutt's mouth.
He pushed the coffee table away and got on his knees in front of her. And then holding both her legs up by placing his palms under her calves, he started kissing and sucking her toes again. Mansi felt small waves of pleasure run up her body, emanating from her toes of all places. She was still too taken aback by his unusual approach to make sense of it. he hadn't kissed her or groped her breasts or fondled her butt. Here he was, giving her incredible pleasure by just manipulating her toes.
As Dutt noticed the last bit of trepidation and discomfort melt away from Mansi's body language, he knew that she was his.
---
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Story is picking up steam and eagerly waiting for an update. ddey333, pls post a long update. Thanks.
Bineesh!
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The last bit of tensions left Mansi's body and she laid back in the seat, relaxed, as Dutt expertly played with her feet and calves. The old man, despite waiting so long to finally get to this point, was very patient. He had decades of experience with such things. After all, he had been seducing women longer than Mansi had been alive. He stroke and gently scratched her shins, occasionally fingering the top part of her calves right behind the knee, which he knew as an erogenous zone for many women. And he was glad to see it have an effect on the young housewife. Her eyes were still half open, staring at his half bald head over her legs, and her breathing was getting deeper.

He kept licking, sucking, kissing, and biting her toes one by one as his hands slowly traveled upwards. His curled fingers gently caressed their way past her knees and stroked in inside of her right thigh. Mansi shivered at this touch, and it took her a while to note that it was moving gradually upwards. And it was only then that the end destination of his fingers struck her.
"No...wait! Not there!" she protested, starting to sit up as his fingers were almost at the top of her inner thighs.
But then she stopped mid-rise, and her torso crashed back on the seat again. And her hips bucked slightly. Dutt's fingers had reached her crotch. And the experienced old man, sensing some resistance from her, quickly moved his thumb to find her clit over her panties. And pressed it firmly with his thumb.
The sensation this created in her body was unknown to Mansi. Amar had never bothered to find her clit and stimulate it. She herself had led such a sheltered and orthodox life that she had never explored her own body much. From magazines and TV shows, she vaguely knew the concept of clitoral masturbation. But nothing in her life had ever led her to experience it.
"What are you...what how...what...wh...mmm" Mansi tried to form a sentence but her mind was too caught up in the new pleasant sensation. She just sat back again and enjoyed what was happening.
As Dutt played with her clit over her panties, he smiled at a realization. A short time ago, he had used this very thumb to uncork an exquisite item from 1988. And that same thumb was doing it again.
He put her ankles on his knees and started swirling the tip of his thumb over her clitoris faster and faster, as he turned his face to one side and other to kiss her calves. Mansi's hands, which until then had hung limply by her sides, reached up and tightly grabbed the two armrests of the seat. Dutt noticed her tightly her nails were digging into the fabric. He looked up at her beautiful face. Her eyes were now fully closed. Her lower lip was being bitten down by her upper teeth. Her nostrils were flaring. And her hips were making a slight up and down motion, in rhythm with Dutt's finger movements.
"HUUUU...let go!" Mansi suddenly said as she felt the unfamiliar overwhelming sensation of an approaching orgasm.
"Relax." he calmly said.
"No...please...this is...strange!" she begged and tried to push his hand away.
"Just enjoy it." Dutt said and held her down by her hips.
He increased the swirling pace of his thumb ever so slightly and pushed a bit upwards. And that did it.
"HNNNNN...HNNNN...HNNNN" Mansi started moaning loudly as she experienced the first ever orgasm of her life.
Her hips bucked wildly up and down, almost flying off the seat. If Dutt hadn't been holding her down with his other hand, she would have. Her body twisted sideways, first to the left and then the right. It was shivering, and then with a loud yell, she screeched her way through the top of the orgasmic wave as Dutt's thumb never lost the spot.
Once the crescendo had passed, Dutt was experienced enough to know he should take his hand away. He did and sat up straight on the floor. Mansi was still shuddering and moaning, curled up on the seat. She still couldn't think straight. What had just happened? And what was this unfamiliar tornado of thrills still coursing through her senses, although it was ebbing?
And then she thought to herself - whatever just happened...was that considered cheating on her husband? Reminded of her husband, she felt sad and guilty.
By now, Dutt could read the expressions on her face well. He decided to give her a little space. Leaving her splayed sideways on that loveseat, he got up and sat on the couch. He refilled both their champagne flutes and sat sipping quietly. In a couple of minutes, Mansi slowly sat up. Her sari and petticoat rolled down from over her knees. She kept staring at the floor, unable to make eye contact with the man who had just given her the greatest pleasure of her life without removing a single piece of clothing.
"Here."
Dutt held up her champagne. She took it and started sipping slowly, sitting in the loveseat with a blank expression and shoulders slightly slumped. She wondered if all this had happened because she had been drinking. What was she doing? Should she just leave? She suddenly stood up.
 
"I have to go home." she said.
Dutt frowned. He considered being assertive and making her stay. But he also understood the turmoil she must be going through. He had already crossed the biggest hurdle. He knew she had enjoyed what she did. He also guessed, correctly, she she had never experienced an orgasm before. He had a hold over her now. he could afford to relax the line a little, like a skilled fisherman.
"Ok." he nodded. "Should I call the driver?"
"No, I'll just take a taxi." she said, still not making eye contact.
Mansi picked up her purse, and taking uncertain steps, walked towards the door. Dutt stayed seated where he was, and watched the beautiful young housewife leave. A part of him wondered if she was guilt stricken enough to just cut off all contacts from now on. But from experience, he knew that the more likely outcome was that she would come back for more.
Mansi was in somewhat of a daze as she took the lift down to the lobby. Her mind was a hot cauldron of conflicting emotions - guilt, shame, pleasure, anticipation, doubt and many more. In the lobby, she fished out her phone from her purse. Then opened the Uber app.
"No need." a voice next to her said. "I'll drop you."
She looked up. It was Reena aunty, smiling at her. Reena didn't know the exact details of what had happened. But she was aware that Dutt had planned to make his move. She assumed that he had gone all the way. So she had told her staff to notify her whenever Mansi came down again.
"It's...okay." Mansi sullenly said.
"I insist. Come."
A while later, Mansi was in the passenger seat staring out of the window as Reena drove, talking almost non-stop.
"I know you must be feeling guilty. Conflicted. Used. But think of it this way, Mansi. You have been used your entire life. Tell me...did you enjoy it?"
Mansi didn't make eye contact, but started sobbing a little. Reena had asked her the question that was troubling her the most. She had indeed enjoyed it. Those moments Dutt gave her goosebumps by just playing with her toes and calves, she gave in to it completely. When he touched her in the most private of places, she didn't think about being a married woman and him being essentially a stranger over twice her age. She didn't think about her husband or her daughter, or what was right or wrong. She just gave in. Gave in to her deeper baser desires.
"Mansi...remember that time we had lunch. And I ordered that dessert for you. How much you loved it. You told me that you almost always ate at home. But you took pleasure in that occasional eating outside. Doesn't mean you don't like homecooked food. Think of this as something similar. You always sleep with your husband. Today was like...the occasional eating out experience. Doesn't mean you love your husband any less. And you make even more money to improve your lives."
That little speech somehow made Mansi feel even worse.
"Please stop the car." she said, wiping her tears.
"What? Don't be silly. I'll drop you home."
"No, please stop the car. I don't want to go home yet."
"Okay, we can go shopping."
"No. I want to be alone. Stop the car NOW!!" she yelled.
Reena stopped the car. Mansi got out without saying goodbye. She was still in a bit of a daze, still lost in a storm of emotions. She had no idea where exactly she was, although it seemed like Kandivali. She started walking in the general direction of her house, trying to sort out her thoughts and feelings.
---
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"Oh you're finally back." Amar said sarcastically as soon as Mansi walked in the door. He was playing chess with Pinky.

She had spent almost three hours just walking around aimlessly until she regained some semblance of self-control. She still hadn't fully sorted out the situation in her head. But she at least had enough composure to face her family.
"Mamma, I'm hungry!" the little one whined.
"You didn't give her anything to eat?" Mansi asked, surprised.
"I gave her some biscuits." Amar shrugged.
"You could have made her a sandwich or ordered delivery or something."
"But you said it would only be a few hours, so I assumed you would come home and make dinner."
Mansi felt a slight surge of anger. This is the man she was feeling guilty about betraying? Someone so self-centered and insensitive that he couldn't even arrange their dinner while she was away?
"Mammaaaaa!" Pinky whined again.
"Yes beta, I will make you something right away."
Mansi went to the kitchen and quickly fixed up a sandwich for her daughter, while she started dinner for her and her husband. Throwing herself into cooking seemed like the best way to clear the cobwebs. She decided to not think about the Duttsahab situation anymore. As it is, he was leaving for Europe the next day. So she had two months to figure out what to do next.
She did however also realize that this meant two months without any extra income. Maybe she really could do the job that she had been pretending to do. Help out Reena aunty with special events. If she asked, Reena aunty wouldn't say no. Although Mansi realized that she had been very brusque with Reena aunty a few hours ago. She might have felt offended.
Pinky had her sandwich and then the three of them had dinner, while watching TV. After a while, Pinky started feeling sleepy and went to the bedroom. Mansi was thankful that at least Amar hadn't invited his friends over that night. She really wasn't in the mood to put up with that extra duty. She just stared at the TV without registering anything that was happening.
"Should we sleep?"
After turning off the TV, Amar said, and then added.
"Why don't you sleep in a gown tonight? And take Pinky..."
"Not tonight." Mansi instantly said.
"What?"
"Not tonight." she simply repeated.
"Oh...is it...that time...?" he uncomfortably said. Even after 8 years of marriage, the learned professor felt awkward talking to his own wife about her periods.
"No." Mansi said, getting up. "I just don't feel like it."
Just like Mansi had experienced something entirely alien and new earlier in the day, Amar also had a novel experience. His wife had actually brushed off his instructions to get ready for sex? Who did she think she was?
Mansi went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and then laid down in bed next to Pinky. Her mind was still in turmoil. But the long three hour walk and the experiences earlier in the day had made her body a little tired. So she fell asleep soon.
Mansi was having a dream, replaying the events of earlier in the day, over and over. Then the dream changed a little. There was a hand at her ankles. And her sari was being pulled up. Maybe her toes would be sucked next. But instead her sari kept being pulled up. That's when Mansi realized it wasn't a dream. It was her husband, at her feet, his pyjama and underwear already off.
"Amar!!" she whispered and looked to her right in panic.
"Relax." he whispered. "I took her outside."
"Please Amar...I told you..." she said, trying to gently stop him.
"Just a quick one, Mansi." Amar said, by now rolling the sari and petticoat to around her hips.
"But Amar..." she didn't know how exactly to stop him. Part of the reason for her reluctance was that, having never experienced anything like what Dutt had done, she wondered if there might be telltale signs of it. That was the level of her sexual ignorance.
She felt his hands grab her panties by the waist and pull them off. She froze, wondering if, even in the darkness, Amar saw something that gave him an inkling of what she had done. Of course, he didn't.
He quickly got on top of her and penetrated her. She braced for pain, but was surprised to note that her vagina was already well lubricated. She didn't realize it was because of the dreams she had been having.
The bed creaked as Amar fucked his wife's warm wet cunt in rapid strokes. She closed her eyes and yet again, Dutt's face swam in front of her eyes. This time, she didn't try to resist it. She took the pounding from her husband as she mentally replayed how his thumb had given her so much pleasure.
"What are you doing?" Amar whispered.
"Hmmm?"
"With your hand..."
Mansi had no idea when her right hand had slid down between their bodies and was trying to find her clit, even as Amar banged her rapidly.
"Oh...just an itch." she quickly said and pulled her hand away.
And then lay there letting her husband finish what he wanted. Once he came inside her, she couldn't help note to herself that she did not feel even a hundredth of the pleasure with him that she had from just Dutt's thumb and fingers. She wondered what Dutt was capable of if he could do whatever Amar did.
---
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(13-02-2023, 11:19 PM)bineeshm Wrote: Story is picking up steam and eagerly waiting for an update. ddey333, pls post a long update. Thanks.

Very few likes from 3 or 4 readers only.
Losing interest in posting further.
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(14-02-2023, 07:33 PM)ddey333 Wrote: Very few likes from 3 or 4 readers only.
Losing interest in posting further.

One of the best stories I have read on this forum...go ahead with the story pls.
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(14-02-2023, 07:33 PM)ddey333 Wrote: Very few likes from 3 or 4 readers only.
Losing interest in posting further.

Actually there are lots reading the stories, no question about that. My understanding is that since you are not the author the interaction, queries, feedback aren't as active as the stories deserve. The stories you post are real gems and if not for you we may not have seen them at all. Please continue your service Smile
Bineesh!
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The next 56 days were full of emotional ups and downs for Mansi, and also taught her a lot about herself. Here are the notable events.

Day 2
Mansi was having a bucket bath after Amar and Pinky had left for work and school respectively. After soaping and washing the rest of her body, she started cleaning her private parts. And as she soaped herself down there, she suddenly remembered what Dutt had done. Using her fingers, she tried to locate the right spot. After a few attempts she did. And then, sitting naked on the bath stool, she tried to remember what exactly Dutt had done and tried to replicate it. The motions, the swirls, the pressure, the pace. And soon she was pleasuring herself. Sitting there with a soaped up crotch, masturbating for the first time in her life. She thrashed about on the bathroom floor as the orgasm hit. Then, feeling a combination of satisfaction and guilt, proceeded with the bath.
Day 5
"What is this picnic Pinky was blabbering about?" Amar asked one evening after getting home.
"You know, their school picnic. To Esselworld." Mansi shrugged.
"But we didn't send her last year because it was so expensive." Amar said skeptically.
"With my work, we can afford it."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Do you want me to give you accounting details?" she testily said.
"No, no, if you think it's okay, then it's okay."
In reality, it had been a significant hit to her cash reserves. After that day in his suite, Dutt had transferred the largest amount until then - 10,000 rupees. But most of it had gone towards this picnic. It wasn't just the Esselworld ticket cost. Pinky went to an expensive school that spared no expense, because the rich parents would pay any amount. The picnic included transportation in premium mini-buses, catering and snacks from five star hotels, clowns and balloon artists and magicians to accompany the kids throughout, and of course, extra compensation for the teachers and staff accompanying them.
The previous year, it had been impossible. But this year, with some money at her disposal, Mansi didn't have the heart to refuse Pinky the opportunity.
Day 8
"Oh hi, Mansi! Long time!" Reena answered her phone.
"Namaste aunty. I just want to say sorry for my behavior that day." Mansi sincerely said. "You were being nice, and I was so rude."
"Don't worry about it, sweetie. You were in an emotional state. I understand."
"Thank you. And sorry again. I was wondering...is Duttsahab coming back soon?"
"You know more about his schedule than I do. I think he is in Europe."
"Hmm...well...do you have any other job I could do to help you out at the hotel?"
"You mean someone else you could...accompany?" Reena smiled.
"No no, not that!!" Mansi said instantly. "I mean...like what I have been telling Amar...helping you out with events and parties etc."
Reena paused. She actually could use Mansi's help for such things. But Dutt's instructions had been explicit. And he had paid Reena over and above her usual commission to keep it that way.
"Sorry, Mansi. With all the hotel regulations and union rules and so on, I can only hire you if you work full time, at least 8 hour shifts daily. And the pay won't be that high." she said.
"Oh, I understand." Mansi sadly said.
"Money problems? I can lend you some cash if you want."
"Oh no, nothing like that." Mansi said. "We're doing okay."
Day 16
Mansi had been masturbating during her bath daily, sometimes even twice or thrice. Initially, she assumed that just like with men, once she had an orgasm, she could not have another for a while. But she had started reading up a bit online and discovered that women didn't suffer from that restriction. As she searched more online, she found more information.
That was the first day she had a desire to do it in the middle of the day when she was home alone. She made sure the door was locked, the windows and curtains were closed, and then stripped naked and lay down on the bed. Then, replaying the time with Dutt, she played with herself for a couple of hours, having more orgasms than she could count.
Day 23
"How is your job going?" Amar asked one evening.
"It's fine." she simply said.
"Our financial situation is okay?"
"Very much. Why?"
"Well...for years I have had my eye on this early edition of Churchill's memoirs. And you know...if we can afford it...I mean it's my birthday in a few days so I was thinking...just a thought."
"Oh...how much does it cost?"
"Let me show you online."
The next day, Mansi made another big withdrawal from Pinky's college account.
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Day 27

"Mansi, you don't go out during the daytime as much as you have been recently." nosy old Deshmukh aunty from next door said one day when she was returning from grocery shopping.
"What?"
"Amar was saying that you had gotten some part time job. Which is why you wearing foreign clothes some days. And riding in those fancy foreign cars."
It was so annoying to live in a society where everyone thought they could just interrogate you about your life. And she knew how everyone liked to gossip. Soon word would get around to Amar that she didn't seem to have that job anymore.
"Oh, the last few weeks have been a little slow. But it's still there."
Day 28
Mansi dressed up in a skirt suit and called an expensive Uber. She made sure Deshmukh aunty was watching as she got into the car. She then just went to a nearby mall and fent a few hours there window shopping. She would do this every few days to keep up appearances.
Day 32
Amar's birthday. Mansi officially gifted her husband the early edition Churchill memoirs. She still could not believe a stack of musty old books could cost this much. But Amar had assured her it was a great bargain. And also that it was like an investment, because their value would just keep going up. Then the family went to a nice Chinese restaurant. That also cost a pretty penny, but not that the family had gotten used to these indulgences, it was difficult to say no.
Later that night, after sex, Amar noticed that his wife took longer than usual to come out of the bathroom. What he didn't know was that his wife, unsatisfied with the sex they had, was masturbating in the bathroom. By now, she had gotten really good at playing with her clit.
Day 39
"What is this?" Mansi asked as Pinky handed her an envelope.
"Invitation to Ira's birthday party."
She looked at the card. At the bottom, it said as always, "NO GIFTS PLEASE!" Mansi scoffed, knowing how meaningless that line was. the first couple of times she had taken Pinky to parties like that, there were tables full of gifts. And she felt embarrassed about coming empty handed. The next few times, she sent Pinky with a decent gift within their budget. But once or twice at parent-teacher meetings, she had overheard taunts about cheap gifts. That she new were directed at her.
"Let's get you changed and go to the mall." Mansi said to her daughter.
Later as she paid for the designer plush toy, Mansi wondered if all the gifts she had gotten in her childhood cost as much combined as this one did.
Day 44
She sent an sms to Dutt.
- r u back yet?
There was no answer.
Day 48
Mansi stood in her bedroom that afternoon, wearing just her bra and blouse, nothing else. She had the landline receiver in one hand. And was reading a webpage on the cellphone in her other hand. She still could not believe this would work.
She laid down on the bed. Set her phone to maximum vibrate. And remembering the instructions, placed it at her clit and then folding up her legs, clasped them around it. Then she dialed her cellphone number from her landline.
"Ohhhh...hmmmm!!" she closed her eyes and squirmed as the phone started vibrating.
This was even better than using her fingers, she realized.
Day 53
"But I want those shoesssss!!" Pinky was throwing a tantrum outside a shop in Borivali west where they had gone to visit a relative. She had just seen pretty rincess shoes in the glass display as they were walking by and made a demand. By now, Pinky was used to getting every demand of hers met.
"Pinky, please don't make a scene!" Mansi said, embarrassed as people on the stret stared at them.
"But why not?!!" she started wiping her own tears.
"Trust me, beta, I don't have the money for it." she said, remembering how the college account was almost down to what it used to be.
"I hate you." the little one sulked.
Day 56
Mansi was in the middle of using her phone as a vibrator, when it buzzed a little more than it should have. It was an SMS.
- Hello Mansi. Just got your message. Just returned from Europe. Will be in Mumbai tomorrow.
Mansi read the message, smiled, and then put the phone between her legs again. And dialed its number once more.

to be continued …
 
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Nice too gud story...
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Wow, this is going slower but more hotter route. Dont want to jinx but keeping fingers crossed that this story doesnt end abruptly or the author has stopped in between.
Bineesh!
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Wonderful....
Keep rocking....
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Day 57

That morning, as she got Pinky ready for school for Amar ready for work, made breakfast, and packed lunch for the two of them, Mansi kept checking her phone every few minutes. She wasn't sure why she was doing that. Duttsahab never messaged her that early. But the two months had made her realize how much she missed his company. And how much she was looking forward to seeing him again.
As the events described above unfolded, she realized many more things about herself and her life.
Most importantly, she realized how much that short but intense experience with Duttsahab in his suite had added to her self-actualization in terms of sexuality. Until now, she had learned a lot from him, from matters of art to using chopsticks to general behavior in high society. That experience in that hotel suite had for the first time, expanded her horizons sexually. Although in its immediate aftermath, she felt conflicted and guilty, as time went by, she came to terms with it. She started exploring her own body and discovered the pleasures it could offer her. Now, she was not as encumbered by the thoughts of morality and propriety as she wondered what Duttsahab had planned next.
Secondly, she realized how important money was in her life now. And how much its absence could sting. In the first two months that she had known Duttsahab, the cash was always flowing in, and it helped her enhance her lifestyle and make her family happier. Especially her daughter. But the two months since, when the cash flow had dried up, she found herself returning to that same old famished state. When a bulk of Amar's modest professor's salary went towards their two biggest expenses - a Mumbai rent and Pinky's exorbitant school fees. Whatever was left was enough for an austere existence, but not enough to fully relish life, much less save for Pinky's future.
So unable to cut back on her newfound splurging lifestyle, she had ended up exhausting almost all the money she had managed to add to the college account. Amar was never going to change jobs. So it was up to her to keep earning and ensure her family's wellbeing and especially, her daughter's happiness, both present and future. So just from that perspective, no matter what her slowly disappearing reservations about morality, she had to continue her association with Dutt for the greater good of her family.
And thirdly, she was finding herself getting more and more dissatisfied with Amar. And not just in bed, although that was part of it. Before the chance encounter with Reena thrust her into this new world, Mansi had been mostly content with the hand fate had dealt her. She had always known that she would end up marrying the man her parents chose and the rest of her life would be dedicated to running his household. She knew she would never have a career and her own tastes or interests didn't really matter.
But through Dutt, she had experienced a different reality. Where she was exposed to a wider and more interesting world. Where her own tastes, her own desires, her own interests got some breathing room. And the more she realized that, the more she started resenting Amar. She saw that for him, she was just a glorified maid and babysitter that he also occasionally had sex with. She always did what he wanted, but the one time she said no, she doesn't feel like having sex, he made her do it anyway. That still rankled.
So it was a much more composed Mansi, having had all these epiphanies, who kept checking her phone that morning. She knew in her mind that Dutt would probably want to take things further. And she herself would not mind it. And it would mean cheating on her husband. But taking a sum total of all the epiphanies, she had, well, why not?
It was a little past 11. Mansi had taken a bath, masturbating a few times in the process. She came out of the bathroom and checked her phone. There was an SMS from Dutt.
- 11:30
That's all it said. She was a bit nonplussed. usually he added more detail. Maybe he was busy catching up with work after his Europe visit, she told herself. Drying her naked body, she went to the cupboard. What should she wear? She thought about wearing one of the western clothes he had bought her. But eventually decided on a sari.
"Going to work, Mansi?" Deshmukh aunty asked.
"Yes, aunty." she said, climbing down the stairs.
At 11:25, she was waiting for the car. It pulled up at 11:40. Purposely late, as per Dutt's instructions.
"How was your..." Mansi started saying as as opened the door and got in. And stopped. There was no one there.
She heard a whirring sound. The partition separating her from the driver's cabin lowered.
"Good morning, ma'am." the driver said politely. "I am to take you to the hotel."
"Oh...okay. Where is..." she started saying, but the partition had been closed again.
Mansi sat in the car as it sped towards Malad. She was a little surprised at being picked up like this alone. Usually, he was always in the car. Again she told herself, maybe he is busy catching up with work after his foreign trip.
The limo reached the hotel in Malad. The driver opened the door, and said,
"You know his usual suite, right?"
There was a slight hint of condescension in that question. But Mansi ignored it and nodded.
She walked into the lobby. This was the first time she had been there since that fateful day. Very little had changed, except for a new sculpture in the corner. There were still well-dressed people milling about. And a small line in front of the reception. She walked to the lift and went up to the same suite as last time. She knocked on the door.
"Yes?" a young man opened the door.
"Oh!" she shrank back seeing the unfamiliar face and got a sense of deja vu.
"Are you...Mansi?" he asked uncertainly.
"Yes."
"Please come in." he opened the door. "Dutt sir is on a conference call."
Mansi walked into a suite full of half a dozen people with laptops or tablets on their laps. Everyone was immaculately dressed in western clothing, including two young women, one of whom was sitting in the same single loveseat that she had been sitting in. Dutt was standing by the side with a headpiece on, back towards her, busy in conversation about business.
The young housewife felt after months that same old sense of not belonging where she was. She stood where she was uncertainly, not sure about what to do. When she came here, she wasn't expecting such a big crowd. A few of them looked at her with blank expressions before looking at their screens again. What, she wondered, did they make of her presence there?
"One second." Dutt said tapping a button on his headpiece, and said. "Mansi, you're here."
She just nodded.
"Wait in the bedroom." she said and resumed his call.
Blushing a little, Mansi walked towards the suite's bedroom. From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a few of the people sitting there, including both women smile and exchange knowing glances. That made Mansi uncomfortable and also a little angry. What did they think she was?
Mansi walked into the bedroom, but left the door open. She could overhear snippets of conversations. It was mostly business jargon that she had no idea about. She looked around the bedroom. Just like the suite, it was artfully decorated. There was a huge king bed with a couple of night stands. A glass desk and a chair. And there was a big screen TV. Mansi waited for a few minutes. Then sat down on the bed and turned the TV on, flipping through the channels.
She felt considerably more self-assured now than she was the last time she was in this suite. But these new circumstances made her doubt herself a little. The way some of those people had looked at her when Dutt told her to wait in the bedroom...she blushed again. But she tried to put it out of her mind and watch TV. She could hear that the conversations outside were getting lower and lower in volume and frequency.
About an hour passed like that.
And then she heard a door close. She had been intently watching a news bulletin when she heard that sound. Immediately she got up from the bed.
"Duttsahab." she said in a soft voice.
"Hello, Mansi. How are you?" he asked in a businesslike voice, taking the headpiece off.
"I am fine." she said. "How was Europe?"
"Europe was Europe." he shrugged.
She watched as he then took off his suit jacket, carefully folded it and placed it on one of the nightstands. She watched as he took his watch off. And then took his tie off. Was this...was this it, she wondered.
"Which countries did you visit? I have always wanted to visit Switzerland." she said trying to fill the awkward silence in the room.
As she said this, he walked slowly towards her. She felt a little uncomfortable as he stepped right in front of her.
"You look even more gorgeous than I remember." he said.
She felt his big burly arms wrap her in an embrace. She had an instinctive reaction to push him away but she fought it. And placed her hands on his side. And then she saw his wrinkled puffy face come closer, with his lips puckered. She puckered her own lips.
And they were kissing.
-
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Mansi was getting a masterclass in the art of kissing. With Amar, the kisses were almost perfunctory. He put his lips on hers, pressed and rolled a bit, the that was it. Dutt however was very skilled. He started by slowly brushing his lips against her, sideways, then up and down. He then placed tiny kisses all along the perimeter of her lips a couple of times. Even in that, he noticed that she seemed completely amateur in this. She just kept trying to respond with fish style lips. And she seemed tense.

He placed one hand under her jaw and gently massaged it to make her relax. That touch had an effect and he felt her exhale and her lips parted. Then he aligned his lips perpendicular to hers and softly started kissing her. Mansi felt a surge of passionate pleasure as the proper kissing started. She responded, mimicking his movements. He moved his hand from under her jaw to behind her head and pulled her in ever so slightly. And every few seconds he moved her head gradually tilting left and then right.
She felt weird when his tongue started probing her mouth. But soon she got used to it. And her own tongue started responding. She noticed that although this kiss was passionate and lasting such a long time, it wasn't a slobbery saliva-filled experience like with Amar. She then felt Duttsahab's other hand move from behind her back to her exposed side under her blouse. He gently stroked her skin, moving towards the front, stroking her stomach.
And then she felt his fingers deftly pull out the folds of the sari tucked into her petticoat waist. She was a little surprised and also impressed at this move. On the odd occasion that Amar took her sari off before sex, he did it the conventional way - pulling down her pallu and unwrapping all the folds. But the experienced Dutt with that one simple move had made half the sari unravel. He dug his fingers into her waist again and pulled out some more of the fabric and gave it a hard tug. And within seconds, the sari collapsed in a heap around her ankles, the pallu sliding down between their bodies.
Dutt felt Mansi inhale sharply even in the kiss and felt her fingers tightly grip his arms. He broke the kiss and raised his head. Mansi's hand went down and clasped her waist and thighs as if to confirm that she really had been divested of her sari so quickly. She looked into his eyes, surprised. He smiled. She shyly smiled back. And blushed as it hit her that she was now standing there in a blouse and petticoat in the arms of the burly old man.
Dutt's hand had been stroking her flat stomach all this while. He let her get used to being sariless for a few seconds and then quickly tugged at the knot of her petticoat. Soon, it too was lying in a heap and her legs were exposed. Such shapely legs they were. And she was wearing very simple, almost too modest panties. he made a mental note to buy her fancier underwear and lingerie.
Even though Mansi knew where things were going, standing there with nothing below her waist but panties made her feel very conscious and shy. Instinctively, she hugged Duttsahab and hid her face in his chest. His paunch pressed against her flat stomach. He smiled and wrapped his arms around her, gently stroking her back to make her relaxed. They stood like that for a while, hugging and stroking each others backs. And soon Mansi started noticing it. The pressure against her thigh. He was getting aroused. And feeling it so close unnerved her.
She reflexively tried to pull away but Dutt held her pinned to him. And then putting his hands on her sides, effortlessly lifted her up a few feet off the ground.
"Hhhhha!" Mansi sighed in surprise as she felt her feet being lifted from the pile of fabric around them. And then giggle as he threw her on the bed.
Mansi was talking big steps, but was at heart still a demure middle class girl. She looked at the bulge forming in Dutt's pants and immediately covered her face with her hands shyly and closed her eyes.
Dutt chuckled at this. It amused and aroused him how this married woman, the mother of a 7 year old, was still so tender and innocent, almost virginal. Watching her laying on the bed, admiring the shapely smooth legs and the heaving mounds under her blouse, he slowly slipped off his shirt and undershirt. Then he took off his pants and got on the bed wearing just boxer shorts.
Mansi felt the mattress move as the big old guy got on the bed. She was still covering her face. And having a few conflicting thoughts. But the part of her saying she shouldn't be doing this was getting smaller and smaller.
She felt her right ankle being grabbed and pulled up. And just like last time, she felt his tongue and lips on her toes. Then the other leg was lifted. And then her legs were pressed together but folded in the knees as Dutt sat on the bed sucking her toes one at a time, massaging her calves. He smiled when he saw one hand leave Mansi's face. her eyes were still closed, but that right hand, as if moving my itself, slipped into her panties.
He was amused to see her playing with her clit so shamelessly. He let her do it for a few while and then sharply said,
"Don't do that!"
her hand stopped. Then left her panties and lay limply by her side. Dutt let go of her legs and slid upwards, grabbing that hand. He started licking her fingers one by one, really hard, just like the toes, and stroked the back of her upper arm. That gave Mansi goosebumps. She had no idea something as banal as the back of your arm, if stroked properly, could make her feel excited.
Dutt took her other hand and repeated the procedure. Her eyes were still closed, but her face wore a happy smile. he looked at those luscious lips and was eager to see them wrapped around his dick. But he assumed, correctly, that she had probably never given a blowjob in her life. So he decided to leave it for later.
Mansi felt her hands being let go. And then she felt his fingers at the front of her blouse, unhooking it. Finally, she thought to herself, he is paying attention to her breasts. She she was in for a surprise. Once Dutt opened the blouse completely, he rolled her over on her stomach. No interest in her larger than average boobs, she wondered. His hands tugged at her blouse. She raised her arms so he could pull it off.
She then felt his stubble and lips as they started kissing her back, starting at her waist. She didn't know that Dutt had this technique for first time seductions. Arouse a woman by stimulating all the other parts of her body before moving to the "main" items. This makes her almost anticipate it and long for it, and when it happens, she feels thankful.
As his lips planted kisses all over back back and shoulders, his fingers, she noticed, were stroking the back of her thighs. Not her butt or her private parts, but her thighs. And yet it was filling her with a surge of arousal. She felt his teeth stop at her bra. Then she had an odd sensation as she felt he was biting her bra. And suddenly it loosened. This really amazed her. Amar had to make half a dozen attempts even with his fingers to unhook her bra. And this old man had done it with one motion of his teeth.
Dutt unhooked the bra, but didn't take it off. He let it rest like that between her boobs and the bed. Now for all practical purposes, the only item of clothing on her body was her panties. She wondered when they would come off. She felt a fire in her loins and was desperate for release.
But Dutt was in no hurry.
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Exceptional.
Dutt was very clever to make Mansi desperate physically and financially. She is thus ready to go to any extent with him now as she has gotten used to some luxury in life and also realised what she has missed sexually. Now she is fully aware and ready to be mistress of Dutt. That's why she didnt bother about the condescending words from the Driver and also walked into bedroom when Dutt made it clear of her role in front of his office colleagues. He planned and played it well, Mansi is now a willing partner. Knowing the intentions of these men, this is only the starting.
Bineesh!
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She felt him straddle her, knees on either side of her waist. She then sensed him moving lower until he was at her feet. And then she felt his thick raspy tongue at the bottom of her middle left toe. She cringed a little as his tongue started moving up the bottom of her feet. What was he doing? That part was unclean. But thoughts of hygiene were soon replaced by arousal as the tongue slowly made its way up the back of her left leg. Parallely, his fingers were stroking the same path up her right leg. When he crossed her calved and the back of her knee, she shivered. When it started going up her back with the fingers in tandem. She shuddered.

"Ohhh god!!" she softly said as the tongue gently flicked her shoulder blades and made its way to the back of her neck.
And when he kicked her neck ending at the back of her ear, she was shocked. Her body started vibrating and her loins were on fire. Was she...was shaving an...
"Ahhhhhhhhhh!"
Mansi cried out as her body quaked through a small orgasm. Dutt kept licking and stroking her neck throughout, feeling very proud of himself. This didn't happen very often. In the dozens of women he had bedded over the years, he had managed to make only a couple of them have an orgasm by just stimulating the other parts of their body. Much like Mansi, they had been inexperienced and often sex starved repressed women. He had hoped to be able to add Mansi to the list and he had succeeded.
"Wha...wha..." Mansi said confused. The orgasm hadn't been as big as the ones she had using her fingers or the phone on her clit. But it was a wave of pleasure nonetheless. Was this man a magician, managing to do it without once touching her down there?
He let her come to terms with the orgasm for a few seconds and then pulled her by the shoulder to turn her over. Her eyes were now open and a bit glazed, staring at her elderly lover. The unhooked bra stayed on the bed and Mansi's breasts were revealed for the first time. He was impressed. They were big, but with no sad. Firmly shaped, and with prominent pink nipples which were rock hard. And nestled in her cleavage, was her simple mangalsutra.
"Take your panties off."
This was another ritual he followed with first seductions. He may take off all other items of clothing, but he always asked the woman to take off the panties herself. To make her realize, consciously or subconsciously, that she was the one who wanted this.
Mansi put her thumbs in the waistband and hesitated for a few seconds. She had come very far already, farther than she could have imagined a few months ago. But this really was the last step. If she went through with this, she would be completely naked, in the company of a man who was not her husband. She had a moment of doubt. But then her eyes fell on the big tent formed in his boxers, and she knew she wanted it.
Dutt watched triumphantly as the once demure and chaste housewife raise her legs and slipped off the last vestige of modesty and fidelity from her body. He got a glimpse of how smooth and perfectly shaped her buttocks were. How her thighs were free of any cellulite or flab. And finally, her pussy.
She had a naturally sparse bush down there, which he appreciated. Many of the Indian women he slept with had such a thick jungle down there that it looked unseemly. Mansi was blessed with a more attractive set of public hair.
 
She saw him looking at her most private parts and that sense of shame returned. Again she closed her eyes and covered her face. She felt him move between her thighs and hold her knees apart. This was it. It was happening. From the bulge, she could make out that he was larger than Amar. Would she be able to accommodate him? Many times she felt stretched even with Amar's penis.
Her thighs shivered in anticipation as she felt Dutt move. Soon his penis would be at her...
"What are you doing???" she cried out, and propped herself up on her elbows. Her eyes had opened at the shock of not feeling the hardness of a penis but the wetness of a...tongue?
Sure enough, she saw Dutt's wrinkle old face and half band head between her thighs. He was licking her?? She was vaguely aware that people did such things, but always found the idea too westernized and perverted.
Dutt ignored her question and the tip of his tongue found her clit. And with one stroke, it made her shoulders fall back on the bed again. Another jolt of pleasure.
Dutt flicked her clit and played with it, but with restraint. He did not want her to have another orgasm. He just wanted to tease her to the edge of one, and then pull back. Keep doing that and she would literally be begging to be fucked. He liked it when married young women begged him for sex.
Mansi writhed and shivered in pleasure, waiting for the big climax. As she did, her mangalsutra jiggled around her boobs.
"And what are YOU doing?" Dutt raised his face and asked sternly.
Mansi paused and looked at him, the mangalsutra halfway up her head.
"Taking this off." she whispered.
"No, you cannot take it off. It has to stay on." he said with a tone of finality.
What did he mean it has to stay on? Is he crazy? As it is, here she was, naked on his bed, cheating on her husband. Surely he could understand why she would not want to have the ultimate symbol of her marriage in her sight when she did so. But he had said what he wanted. And she never seemed to be able to defy him. Soon the mangalsutra was back jiggling between her legs as she gave herself in to Dutt's tongue.
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Dutt took great pleasure in the calculated cunnilingus he was giving his latest conquest. He used the old tried and tested trick of using his tip of tongue to trace letters of the alphabet on her clit, gradually increasing the pressure. By H, he could see her boobs jiggle and heave as she breathed harder. By P, he saw her fingers tightly grip the bed sheet. By T, he could feel her hips pushing back and writhing, and knew that she was close to an orgasm. At W he stopped and took a break. Mansi let out a slightly disappointed moan when his tongue moved away.

He gently stroked the entrance of her cunt. He could literally see the wetness. He started again from A. This time he had barely reached L when he saw she was on the verge. He pulled away.
"Noooooo!" she said loudly this time. "Keep going."
Her right hand reached towards her clit. He slapped it away. She looked at him. He was sliding how shorts down. An erect thick dick sprang up and down. Reflexively she looked away out of shame. She could sense his body moving higher. She felt his hands on her knees, folding her legs and then spreading them apart.
"Look at me." he ordered.
She did, and saw his thick white chest hair a foot or two away from her. She looked up at his face, which was tranquil. She felt his paunch gently rest her flat stomach. That was a new sensation. Amar was a lean man. The belly obstructed her view of what was happening beneath. But she could feel his erect and slightly moist dick slap against her thighs.
Dutt grabbed her wrists and pulled her hand together up over her head. Then he lowered his face. She closed her eyes and opened her lips slightly. He kissed her and at the exact same moment, pushed the tip of his dick at the entrance of her pussy. Again, purely on instinct, he felt her hips try to pull away, but when push back. She was kissing him very passionately now, as opposed to earlier when he was doing most of the work. He kissed her back and kept his dick just like that.
Mansi's brain was trying to comprehend everything that was happening. The kiss, the unfamiliar touch of his naked body on top of hers. The way his fingers were now interlocking with hers above her head. And of course the tip of her penis firmly resting at the entrance of her vagina. Why was it just there? Her butt and thighs were moving ever so slightly towards it but it didn't proceed. She broke the kiss and whispered.
"Why are you...what are you...waiting for?"
"What?" Dutt smiled.
"Why don't you...put it in?" she blushed even at that moment.
"Put what in?"
"Please."
"Please what? I want you to say it."
"Please..." she paused for the longest time unable to get the next few words out. "...just make love to me."
"Are you sure?"
She eagerly nodded. And then closed her eyes and groaned as the thick head of the old man's cock invaded her cunt. Her back arched and her thighs stiffened at the invasion. Dutt noted that she was tight, but wet enough.
"Slow..." she said as the thick shaft made its way inside her cunt. She realized what a significant moment this was, but was worried about pain.
And then she was pleasantly surprised when Dutt complied and continued the penetration at an almost glacial pace. She had a naturally narrow vagina. Even child birth had been hard on her. All these years later, she still felt a little pain when Amar penetrated her too fast. She often begged him to slow down. But Amar wasn't really wired to listen to her in that moment. He would be in a hurry and often just rammed it in.
Dutt was cut from a different cloth. He knew that the best approach to such things is slow and steady, especially early on. So he was gentle in penetrating her, moving slowly, stopping often, letting her cunt get used to his girth. Which made Mansi happy and also a lot more aroused. There was a slight discomfort because of his girth. But no real pain. Her insides were getting enough time to adjust to his presence. And she was feeling the natural surge of pleasure that accompanies a properly done penetration. The real fucking had just barely begun and Mansi's brain already declared that this was the best sex of her life.
Dutt looked at her open mouth and closed eyes, her flaring nostrils and heaving chest, as his dick surged in slowly. And then he felt his balls land against her ass. Mansi felt it too because she opened her eyes and looked into Dutt's. She could not believe how gently and expertly he had penetrated her fully.
"Do you like that?" he asked.
She shyly nodded.
"Do you want more?"
She was confused. Of course she wanted more.
"Then..." he slid one arm under her shoulder. "...let's see how much you want it."
Mansi gave a startled cry as she unexpectedly felt her body being pulled up. Dutt's torso was leaning backwards. He pulled her with him, dick still buried deep in her cunt. And soon was on his back. He let go of her shoulder and Mansi found herself sitting on top of her old lover, still penetrated. Her legs were in an uncomfortable postion so she instinctively folded them so her shins were on the bed. And she was straddling the old man.
Resting her palms on his paunch for balance, she looked at him confused. This was unfamiliar territory for her. Never in all these years had she ever been on top of her husband during sex. The weight of her body had made Dutt's cock penetrate her a little deeper and she loved that feeling. But she wasn't sure what followed next. In her universe, a woman just laid there and took it as the man did the fucking.
"Go on." Dutt smiled and said.
"I have..." she said and stopped.
"You have never fucked in this position?" he simply asked. But the use of the word fuck made the chaste housewife blush.
He was surprised and amused when she just threw her face down into his hairy chest and hugged him. He gently stroked her thick hair and said,
"Just do what feels natural."
He looked past her at the mirror at the head of the bed and admired how lovely her young tight naked ass looked resting on his hairy old legs. How his thick dick was entirely buried in her cunt. And noted how her big supple breats were mashed against his chest and tummy. She just lay there stuck to him, her hand on his shoulder, not moving. Semed like this shy gorgeous housewife was not aware of her own body's potential and had no idea how to take the lead.
For a moment, he considered just flipping her over and starting it himself. But this was another ritual he took seriously. Always start with woman on top, so she is the one doing all the work. And realizes she is the one who wants it more than him.
He put his big hairy hands on her hips. Gently he pushed her ass downwards and inch, then pulled it back up. He felt her inhale sharply as this made his dick and the insides of her cunt gain friction. He did it again a couple of times and noticed that she was now moving her hips herself. He just placed his hands on her ample smooth ass cheeks without applying any pressure. And noted that she had started moving like that by herself.
Mansi had started off feeling confuse, shy, and conflicted about this position. But soon she got into the basic rhythm. Her face still resting on the old man's hairly chest, she slid her ass towards his stomach and then away from his stomach. And noted how unfamiliarly great the sensation felt. Soon she got comfortable enough to raise her face. She looked at Dutt who was smiling. Then, continuing the motion of her hips, she put her palms on his chest and raised her torso.
And soon Dutt was looking at her ample tits and erect pink nipples rubbing against his chest as the young housewife on top of him started fucking him in an ever so slightly increasing tempo.
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