Adultery UNFAITHFUL MOTHERS AND HOUSEWIVES --- stranger_women
(20-02-2023, 09:59 PM)ddey333 Wrote: Missing BLUEBULL a lot , he only encouraged me to post old retrieved  stories in this forum .

No worry dear.......little bit busy with personal problem ...... not getting time to visit the forum ........:D
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(23-02-2023, 12:32 AM)Blue Bull Wrote: No worry dear.......little bit busy with personal problem ...... not getting time to visit the forum ........:D

Thanks dear ....
You are my inspiration here !! Namaskar Heart
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OFFICE PARTY AND MUSICAL CHAIRS
 
aurelius1982
 
Preface Smile - Many years back, in the late 90s, when I first discovered the internet and started reading erotica, one of the first wife stories I read involved a musical chairs situation. It caught my fancy at once and I read it many times before moving on to other stories. This was on some minor website, not the big ones like ASSTR or Literotica. A few months back, I was reminded of it again, and tried to search for it. But no matter how much I wrestled with google, I could not locate it. I found many other musical-chairs-based stories on Literotica and other sites, but not the one I was looking for. So I have decided to write it down myself from memory. Obviously, I have had to add some background details and have adapted it to an Indian situation. But in terms of the basic plot, I am staying faithful to what I read. Full credit to the unknown original author. Hope you like it. And if any of you have read the original and know if it is online somewhere, do send me a link. Here goes.
*
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I had recently started working as a financial analyst in the Bombay branch of a small but prestigious wealth management firm. Their clientele was very exclusive, staff size small at just under 50, and they usually hired only one person a year, so I was pretty pleased to get selected from what had been at least a hundred other applicants like me from other reputed companies. The pay was phenomenal, the work challenging and my colleagues were all brilliant people, highly qualified and accomplished.

A month after I started work there, my wife and I got invited for a company party that was going to be held at a senior partner's bungalow in Malad, a northern suburb of Bombay. It was Friday night, and my wife Usha and I were going to drive there. This was the first time Usha was going to meet my colleagues and I had praised all my colleagues and bosses so much, that she was looking forward to meeting them all.
At 27, Usha is just a year younger to me. She is quite a hottie, even if I do say so myself. She stands at a medium 5 ft 4, has a milky white complexion, a very attractive face, shoulder length hair, and a body that she keeps in good shape by working our regularly. All the work out has made her ass especially delectable, perfectly curved and round, neither too big nor too small. And I always thank god for the fact that she has the most amazingly shaped C-cup boobs with no sag. Usha looks like a knock-out whatever she wears, and always attracts admiring glances when we are in a public place.
That night she looked particularly smashing. She was wearing something she bought specially for this party from a designer boutique in Bandra - a yellow dress which went well with her milky white complexion. It stopped about two inches above her knees. It was loose and pleated from the waist down, so when she twirled, it kinda rose up, giving a glimpse of her underwear. And for underwear, she was wearing a tiny thong, which I really loved. Above the waist, the dress was figure-hugging tight, so it showed that Usha had a flat stomach. And it fit very snugly over her breasts. Also, the dress had spaghetti straps, and it gave a nice hint of her cleavage, and because of the thin straps, she had decided to go bra-less. So a very faint outline of her nipples was visible. They weren't poking out (yet!), but you could tell where they were.
When she had gotten ready and come out of the bedroom in our house in Bombay, she had twirled very fast, making the dress balloon up to waist level, giving me a nice look at her thong-covered ass. She looked so sexy, I got hard instantly and had expressed the desire for a quickie right then, but Usha refused, saying it would mess up her make up. Reluctantly, I limited myself to some fondling, and finally we got going.
Usha really was looking amazing that night. Even when we were on the way to the party, drivers in passing cars would stare at her lustily. I felt even luckier than usual that I had such a hot wife. Eventually, we got to Malad at about 8 pm and followed the directions to the bungalow. Bungalow?? It was more like a mansion. Really huge. We parked the car and entered the massive living area, where the party seemed to be in full swing already.
I took my wife around, introducing her to everyone, and got introduced to others wives. Which is when I noticed something odd. Although there were almost 30 men there, there were only three wives, aside from Usha. I also noticed that none of the female employees had come. I found this surprising, and when Usha got busy talking to one of the other wives, I mentioned this to a couple of guys. They laughed and said, yeah, the parties tend to get kinda "raunchy" and "crazy". Which is why a lot of the wives and women from the company stayed away. I asked what that meant exactly and they just laughed and said, nothing too serious. People get drunk and so there is flirting, teasing, and sometimes while dancing, there is fondling. Some of the "stuffy aunty" types don't like it and stay away. Even the wife of Navin, the senior partner who owned the bungalow, had gone to stay with her sister for the night, with their kids.
I pulled Usha to the side and mentioned this to her, just to inform her about what to expect. She laughed it off and said she could take care of herself. And I knew she could. Being that attractive, she got hit on all the time in all situations, and I had seen her put guys in their place a lot. She was by no means a "stuffy aunty" type. Quite the opposite. She was kinda wild and loved flirting, although she knew where to draw the line.
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I had known Usha since we were toddlers - our parents were next door neighbors. Growing up, we were good friends, often hanging out together. Ours wasn't exactly a teen romance. In fact we never even considered the idea of dating until much later. I knew the two guys she had dated before we got together, and she knew the three girls I had dated. We had told each other about our first kisses, when we lost our virginities, and poured our hearts out to each other when we were heartbroken. In fact it was simultaneous heartbreaks that brought us together. I was 22, she was 21, and we had both had messy break-ups at the same time. We got talking, started hanging out exclusively, and before we knew it we were in love. After two years of dating, we got married.

All through childhood, teen years, during our relationship and then our marriage, I had always known Usha to be very aware and confident of her beauty and she did not mind flaunting it or using it. She knew she had an awesome rack, a perfect ass, and it did not bother her that men got turned on by it. In bed too, she is a wildcat, using her body (and her mouth) very well. She loves to try different positions, loves to talk dirty, asked very confidently for what she wanted, enjoys oral and anal sex and even loves watching porn with me. Often, we try out positions from porn films as we watch them. She was also a compulsive tease, and loved telling me about how she noticed men checking her out, or dying to touch her. So I knew that even if things started getting crazy at the party, Usha would be on top of things.
Everyone started mingling, talking, dancing. Usha was definitely the hit of the party, with almost everyone wanting to talk to her or dance with her. The three other wives there were also young, in their late 20s or early 30s, and decent looking, but none of them was as drop-dead gorgeous as Usha. Also, two of them were dressed in saris, and the third one in a long skirt and a conservative blouse. So dress-wise too, Usha was the center of attention.
When the party started, we had been together, but as the party went on, we slowly drifted apart, although I had my eye on her all the time. I was still new to the company, so I was getting to know a lot of the guys, listening to their stories about their clients, bosses and so on. Plus, I hate dancing and try to avoid it if I can. Usha on the other hand, loves dancing and was mostly on the dance floor. Guys kept asking her (and the other three wives also, to be fair) to dance. I also noticed that guys kept bringing Usha drinks, and she kept drinking. She has a pretty high tolerance by Indian women standards, but until I cared to count, she had already downed five cocktails.
I was getting quite drunk too. As I moved from group to group, in almost each group, someone would raise a toast to me, the new guy, and ask everyone to down shots. After eight drinks, including some shots, I stopped counting too. Pretty much everyone was drunk, the senior partners, the managers, the analysts and even the wives. People would eat the food laid out on the tables in between, but the main nutrient for that night seemed to be alcohol.
As people started getting drunker, sure enough, the flirting and groping started. A couple of guys that danced with Usha hugged her and pecked her, and even in that state, she seemed to be in control. I saw one guy trying to put his hand on her ass when they were dancing, and she firmly moved it up to her back. I noticed another thing with amusement. Guys were getting her to twirl more and more often. As a result, her thong would come into vision every once in a while. Knowing how self-aware Usha usually is, I am sure she was fully aware of it, and was enjoying the teasing. She still had enough sense not to twirl too hard and show her whole ass, but there was enough visible to keep guys interested. I even noticed a few guys nudging each other to point it out.
There was some close dancing too, and the groping increased a bit. The other wives were being groped too, and like Usha, did not seem to mind too much as long as it stayed within limits. Plus, everyone WAS really drunk. Soon, more and more guys kept breaking away from the small groups and heading towards the dance floor. There were now lines of sort to dance with the women next, and the longest line was for Usha.
Finally, one of the wives declared that she was getting tired and was going to take a break, and Usha and the other two wives said that was a good idea and they needed a break too. At that time I was sitting on a couch, talking to one of the guys, and when he saw Usha approaching, he politely excused himself and left us two alone. I had gotten very turned on by Usha's flirting and dancing and the way all men were ogling at her. Even now, as she sat next to me and put her head on my chest, I saw at least half the guys either looking at her, either directly or through the corners of their eyes.
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I was already drunk and so, quite low on inhibitions. So I started kissing Usha hungrily, in full view of everyone, and she, also drunk, started kissing me back passionately. We had our tongues down each others throats and were making out like two hormonal teenagers. Knowing fully well that everyone was watching and feeling jealous, I groped her boobs and her ass. And I slowly moved one hand up her dress, and put my fingers into the waistband of her thong, and started fondling her naked ass, careful to keep the dress lowered and not give everyone too much of a show.

We kissed and made out like that for a while more. After that, Usha said she'd get something to eat and stood up to do go. The problem was, my hand was still in the waistband of her thong, and as she stood up, the flimsy material tore with a rip, and I was left there with the thong wrapped around my fingers. Usha saw what had happened, and cracked up laughing, saying - "I hope you're happy now, Mr. Public Make-out!". I started laughing too, and she walked away towards the food table.
I looked around and saw many guys staring at the thong in my hand with a smile on their face. I stuffed it in my pocket, and got up to get myself another drink. I saw Usha was talking to a few guys near the food table, laughing and having a good time. I also saw her touching a couple of them on the arm flirtatiously. I got myself a tall drink of scotch, and went back to the couch where I had been sitting, because it gave me a good view of the dance floor.
Soon everyone else was back dancing, and dancing a lot faster. Many guys also knew that Usha's thong panties were in my pocket, so she was twirled around hard many times, giving half the room fleeting glimpses of her ass and her shaved pussy. This time there were a lot more attempts to fondle the wives, and maybe because the wives were drunk too, many of them were succeeding. I saw a couple of guys touch and grab Usha's ass, and after a few attempts at stopping them, she seemed to have given up too. However, when one guy tried to put his hand under her dress, she slapped away his hand emphatically, and no one tried anything. Guys were, however, rubbing their chests against Usha's and getting a feel of her ample bosom.
I watched this for a few minutes, and then found myself dozing off periodically, as the high level of alcohol in my blood starting taking effect. I guess everyone else was drunk as much, but because they were dancing, they were working it all off much faster than me just sitting there. People also seemed to notice that I was passing out, and seemed to get bolder and bolder with Usha, and her resistance also seemed to be gradually waning, although she still didn't let anyone put a hand inside her dress.
Every few minutes, I'd wake up and look at the dance floor and see Usha being spun around or fondled. She was also being handed shot glasses regularly and coaxed into downing them. The other wives were also being felt up liberally, but Usha seemed to be the target. When I'd wake up, I'd keep my eyes partially closed to give the impression I was passed out, but kept watching with increasing fascination and arousal as my colleagues kept taking liberties with my wife. The men would look in my direction, make sure I was sleeping, and then go in for another feel or grope. I had always had fantasies of watching my wife with another man, and had even suggested swinging or swapping. But as wild a tease as she was, she had always firmly refused. I started beginning to wonder if this was a night when circumstances would make her change her mind. As I thought about the possibility, I even started feeling an erection come on, so I took one of the couch cushions and put it on my lap to hide it. And those thoughts actually sobered me up to an extent that I didn't doze off any more, just pretended to do so.
As the action on the dance floor started getting raunchier by the minute, pretty much all the guys except me were crowded there, clamoring to be the next to get to dance. The top choice was Usha of course, but the other wives also had guys fawning over them. Soon people started arguing over who would dance next. Finally Navin, the senior partner whose bungalow it was, yelled loudly and told everyone to keep quiet and stop arguing. He then announced that they would have a sort of a musical chairs game to see who danced with the women. Some guys were sent to gather chairs from the living area and the adjoining rooms, and the others were told to gather around.
Usha, breathless with the dancing and reasonably drunk, walked over to me, swaying slightly to tell me to take part in the game too. I kept the pillow over my erection and kept my eyes shut even when she shook me. For good effect, I even started fake-snoring a bit. After some futile attempts to wake me up, Usha (and presumably others looking at us), assumed that I was completely passed out from the booze. Which is what I wanted, because maybe thinking that I was knocked out would make Usha cross some boundaries, and I'd get to watch.
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(23-02-2023, 09:16 AM)ddey333 Wrote: You are my inspiration here !! Namaskar Heart

I'm honored .......... Blush
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(23-02-2023, 11:14 PM)Blue Bull Wrote: I'm honored .......... Blush

Heart Heart Heart Heart
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Usha walked back to the dance floor, where people had assembled 25-30 chairs. Navin started explaining the rules of the game. Al the guys would sit on the chairs in a circle, facing out. The women would run around them, like participants in musical chairs. When the music stopped, they would sit on the lap of the guy closest to them. Whoever they sat on, got eliminated and moved out of the circle. Then the music would restart and the women would run again. This would continue until there were less men than women, and the final four guys, as a prize, would get to dance with the women uninterrupted for half an hour.

I know I was drunk, but even in that drunken state, I could guess that this so-called "game" was just an excuse to have the women sit on everyone's laps and give them each a chance to fondle them. I almost felt like bursting out laughing at the game, but I had to appear to be passed out, so I resisted the urge.
Soon the men were seated in the chairs, and the women were standing around the, ready to go. Navin had very graciously decided to not take part and be the music guy instead. He put in the CD of some trance music and pushed play. And the wives started going round and round. First they were just walking, and everyone shouted that they should run and soon they were all running. As they were running, their boobs bounced, making the men happy. The best sight was of course Usha, my gorgeous wife with the huge boobs wrapped in a dress with spaghetti straps. They bounced up and down very heavily, and most men were craning their necks to get a look. Also, when Usha ran, the back of her dress would rise up slightly, giving a hint of her naked asscheeks, so both her front and back were being admired by most of the male eyes in the room.
After a couple of minutes of their running, the wives starting yelling at Navin to stop the music, and Navin obliged at once. The wives dived into the laps of the men closest to them. And as the wives sat, obviously, the guys didn't miss their chances. They were groping boobs, groping asses, rubbing thighs, you name it. When the music stopped, Usha was on the side of the circle facing me, so I saw her sit on Pankaj's lap. Usha, already tipsy and having a good time, decided to have some fun, and starting jumping up and down on his lap and laughing, as if Pankaj had been fucking her. Everyone started laughing, and the other wives also played along by doing something similar. Pankaj, meanwhile, emboldened by Usha's playfulness, was trying to get his hands inside her dress, and she was fending him off very well. He did manage to raise her skirt a few times though, and from where I was sitting, I got a good view of her pussy when he did that. I am sure Navin, from his angle, also saw the same sight.
Pankaj finally gave up his attempts at reaching inside her dress, and put his hands on her boobs and cupped them, something she did not seem to mind or stop. So he hungrily massaged her huge tits for a few seconds, when the music started and he reluctantly let go. Usha and the other ladies starting running again, and Pankaj and the three other guys moved out of the circle and stood around it to get a good view.
The next time the music stopped, Usha was on the other side of the circle, so I could not fully see what was happening, but from whatever I saw, she was on Michael's lap, and he was also fondling her boobs. Again the music started, the wives got up, and four more guys were eliminated. The number was now down to 20. As the music kept going, I noticed Yatin, a senior partner still seated in the circle, say something to Jay, one of the eliminated men, when none of the women were near him. Jay walked over to me. He called my name a couple of times, then shook me on the shoulder. I kept my eyes closed and mumbled some gibberish. Satisfied that I was still knocked out, he walked back and gave Yatin a thumbs up sign.
I then watched in amazement as Yatin slowly unzipped his pants and took out his erect cock. It didn't seem too big at all...maybe 4-5 inches, but it was very erect. When a woman would approach, he'd cup his hands around it, and at a glance it would seem like he had just kept his hands in his lap. But when none of the women was near him, he looked at Navin, took his hands off and showed him his dick. Navin smiled at him and nodded. Yatin then cupped his hands over his dick again. And I suddenly realized what was going to happen.
 
Sure enough, around the corner came Usha and when she was a couple of steps away from Yatin with hands still cupped around his dick, the music stopped. Usha, unaware of what she was literally jumping into, turned around to sit down on Yatin's lap. As soon as Usha turned and started to sit, Yatin took his hands off his dick, and pulled Usha's dress up from the back. She sat down and it was clear at once that Yatin's had hit the bullseye. Call it pure luck or skillful aim. Her face, until then sporting a playful smile, suddenly turned serious and her eyes widened. I am sure Usha's cunt must have already been pretty wet from all the groping and fondling. Combine that with the fact that Yatin's dick wasn't too big, it must not have been too difficult for him to penetrate her cunt completely right away.
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Loved the stories you post.....
Thanks for the effort......
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My erection got harder than ever under the pillow as I suddenly realized that my long time fantasy of seeing another man fuck my wife had been suddenly realized. What would Usha do? Usha did not seem to give in right away. She struggled and tried to get up at once. But Yatin had put his hands on her hips and he was firmly holding her in place, not letting her go anywhere. He now started humping her, which the other wives and some men must have assumed was the pretend-humping game that Usha herself has started. So they just started laughing. But to the eliminated men, it was obvious what had happened and they started laughing a lot harder and exchange high fives.

The look on Usha's face was one of sheer panic. She kept struggling and trying to get up, but every time she did, Yatin would pull her back, and say loudly "just wait till the music starts, Usha". Navin took the cue from this and announced that everyone must have gotten bored of this music so he was going to change the CD. That gave Yatin even more time to keep ramming my wife's cunt. Usha was trying to do everything to get up, but Yatin was too strong for her. And she probably did not want to yell out or say anything and make a scene. Yatin was, after all, a senior partner, so offending him publicly could be lethal for my career. She even looked at me a few times hoping I'd notice something and come to her rescue, but I kept pretending to be knocked out.
So all she could do was struggle and try to get off Yatin's lap. What she ended up doing without realizing was, assisting Yatin in fucking her even better and harder. Every time she would manage to raise her ass a few inches, Yatin's dick must have withdrawn a little, and then he'd pull her down again, ramming into her harder. In a minute or so, the effect of this started showing on Yatin. The look on his face became obvious, and he humped her hard a few more times and then finally stopped moving and just held her in place. Usha's face went from panicked to stunned, confirming what I suspected - that Yatin was cumming inside of her. She just sat there shocked and defeated, as her cunt got filled, and looked around at the other wives to make sure they hadn't noticed.
The other wives had indeed not noticed all this and were busy giggling and flirting with the men on whose laps they were sitting. But most of the eliminated men knew what was happening and were staring at Usha and Yatin intently, as was Navin, even as he pretended to struggle with placing the CD in the tray. Finally, I saw Yatin's hands let go of Usha's hips and drop to the side, and he wore a contented expression on his face. He had finished filling my wife's cunt with his seed. I thanked my stars for Usha's decision to go on the pill a few months back.
Finally, Navin put the CD in and started the music. Usha got up, and started walking around the circle with a stunned look on her face, as if in a trance. I looked at her thighs and noticed a glistening, presumably from Yatin's cum oozing down. In a couple of minutes, she seemed to have come to terms with what happened, and started smiling again. The next couple of guys whose lap Usha sat on happened to be husbands of the other wives, which might be why they did not try what Yatin did. Finally the eliminations ended, and the last four guys on whom the wives sat were declared the winners.
The chairs were removed and the four winners took the dance floor with their partners. Usha's partner was Kuljeet, a 6-and-half foot tall and burly guy, probably the biggest guy in the company, and in a similar job as mine. He looks more like a professional wrestler than a financial analyst. He is also very dark skinned, so his pairing with my milky white wife, in addition to the one-foot-plus difference in their heights and at least a 70 kg difference in their weight, offered up quite a contrast. As they danced to a slow song, with his hands wrapped around her, it seemed like a giant embracing a midget.
Pretty soon the four dancing couples moved to one corner of the dance floor. The other three couples were between me and the Kuljeet-Usha couple, so all I could see was Kuljeet's head. I closed my eyes for a while to rest the, hoping that when I opened them, Usha would be in my view again. In a few minutes, there was suddenly a sound of murmurs and whispers and I opened my eyes to see the three couples had stopped dancing and were now gathered around the corner. A few of the other guys walked over there rapidly too. And with my eyes half closed, I slowly craned my neck to see what was happening.
Soon the murmurs turned into some loud talking, and the couples moved away and I could see what was causing all the commotion. I almost dropped my pretense of being asleep and sat up straight as I saw Kuljeet standing there looking down, leaning against the corner, and Usha, on her knees in front of him, with her back towards me. From the way she was moving, and the look on Kuljeet's face, it was obvious that he had his dick inside her mouth. It did not seem like Usha was resisting at all. Finally, I noted happily, she was becoming an enthusiastic participant. He kept fucking her mouth like that, and everyone in the room was staring at them. The wives seemed to be saying something animatedly to their husbands, and the husbands were trying to agree, but also watching the erotic spectacle of my wife giving Kuljeet a blowjob.
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In a couple of minutes, Kuljeet threw his head back and started bucking his hips harder. It was obvious that he was shooting his load in her mouth. It looked like Usha was now trying to pull away. Even when she gave me a blowjob, she very very rarely let me cum in her mouth, saying the taste of it made her gag. She gladly let me spray it on her face or on her tits, but cumming in her mouth was reserved for rare occasions like birthdays and anniversaries. So it was no surprise that Usha tried to pull back. But Kuljeet would have none of it. He grabbed her by the hair and held her head in place as he continued to cum.

Usha kept struggling and Kuljeet kept pumping, as one of the wives yelled,
"Let her go, she might be choking!", to which one of the watching men said,
"Her mouth might be full, but her nose is open.", and there was laughter all around.
I watched, with the biggest hard-on ever, as Kuljeet kept pumping for almost half a minute. I could not even imagine what amount he must have deposited down her throat. After he got done, he held her head like that for about ten more seconds, and finally let go. As he took his dick out of Usha's mouth, I saw it was quite big, but I was more focused on watching my wife. She slumped against the wall, sitting down and threw her head back as if to breath in. She coughed a few times, but I noted - she did not spit anything out. She had swallowed Kuljeet's entire copious load!
A couple of wives bent down, put their hands on her shoulder sympathetically, and started saying something to her. Usha just nodded, said a few words, and then helped by them, got on her feet. She ran the back of her hand over her mouth, and wiped the few streaks of cum around her lips and on her cheek. I watched surprised as she then took out her tongue and licked the back of her hand, as if wanting to get every single sperm of Kuljeet's inside her tummy.
She started walking towards me, stumbling and swaying. But just as she was a few feet away from me, one of the guys ran to her, put his arms around her and whisked her away to the dance floor. There were a few guys standing there waiting for her, and they encircled her and started dancing with her. She started dancing too. Someone handed her a drink and she chugged it down even as she danced.
The "dancing" if just swaying randomly to music can be called that, got wilder by the second. Usha, after being fucked in the cunt and in the mouth, had apparently lost any inhibitions she had. One guy put his hands behind her and up her dress, and she let him. He was very obviously either fondling her naked ass, or fingering her, as she leaned against him and swayed slowly. Another then pulled up the back of her dress, and held it up, exposing her perfect ass to everyone, and there were murmurs of approval. Different guys took turns running their fingers down her ass crack and to her pussy, all of them noting how sopping wet it was.
Then one guy loudly announced that he'd been dying to see her huge tits, and he slipped the straps of her dress down from her shoulders and rolled the front down. A couple of guys in the front started playing with her boobs. Usha's nakedness was being fondled, groped and explored by about half a dozen guys all around her. She seemed to be enjoying it. Yes, she was drunk, but Usha is one of those people who, even when they are fully drunk, will not do something they don't want.
While the guy's were making great headway with Usha, the other three wives were arguing with their husbands. All three either wanted it all stopped or then wanted to leave. And the husbands, clearly enjoying the scene, and hoping to get a feel of Usha too, were trying to stall and argue. One couple, while arguing came and stood behind me.
Wife - This is just too much. I don't want to be here any more. Let's leave at once.
Husband - Come on honey. It's just some fun.
W - Fun? Fun? This is NOT fun. I have no problem with fun within limits. I know being groped and fondled once in a while is just playfulness and no big deal. You saw me. But come on! This? Look at her! She is almost naked!
H - Let's stay for a while more. Maybe they will calm down.
W - And that woman gave Kuljeet a blowjob. And now, see what they are doing? Oh my god! That man has his finger up her..... So disgusting!!! Get me out of here at once!!!!
She stormed out and the husband reluctantly walked behind her. He stopped at the door, and looked back wistfully, taking in Usha's near-nakedness with his eyes. But then his wife yelled once more and he left. The other couples also argued and left.
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As soon as the last couple left, any remaining pretense at being interested in dancing, was discarded at once. Usha was pulled towards a short and wide glass coffee table a short distance in front of me, and laid across it. She made quite a sight, her pretty yellow dress crumpled and bunched around her waist, her huge tits splayed out, and her wet pussy visible to everyone, and she lay there, with glazed eyes. Everyone started taking their pants off, like it was a race. Within no time, a cock was shoved in Usha's mouth and she started sucking on it.

Navin, being the host, was unanimously given the first right to her cunt. Well, technically second, because Yatin had already fucked her during the musical chairs. Navin, got between her legs and thrust his dick into her sopping wet cunt in one motion, as she groaned in pleasure. From my angle, I saw his ass shake back and forth rapidly as he fucked her. Soon, he came. Then another guy replaced him, and then another. Guys were cumming in her mouth too, and she was swallowing it all. I could hear her swallowing very audibly. There were twenty five or so guys and they started crowding around with their dicks rock hard. Someone commented about how her huge tits were begging to be fucked too, and immediately got on top of her on the table, grabbed her tits and started moving his cock between them.
All guys had probably been sporting erections for a couple of hours, so most of them came very quickly the first time round. Some of the first ones to cum, like Navin, Jay, Pankaj, got hard again by the time all the first timers were done. Whenever a guy moved away from her, I could see the cunt literally oozing and overflowing with cum. Jay, who started fucking her in the cunt once more, noted how slippery it had gotten with all the cum and was offering no friction. He then asked her to turn around and get on her knees, which she did. He first took off her dress and threw it in a corner, getting Usha completely naked for the first time that night. He then started fucking her, but there was something different about the way he was moving.
Moments later, Jay announced to everyone that Usha's ass was tight but fuckable, so she must get a lot of anal action. Which was true. I often fucked Usha in her ass. After that, everyone started focusing on her ass instead of her cunt. All this while, she of course had one cock or the other shoved in her mouth. As the night ticked on, another sort of "elimination" started to happen. Some guys, maybe because of their natural ability or because of all the booze, could not get it up a second time. They just stood back, watching the action. A handful of guys however, seemed insatiable and could almost get hard at will. They kept hammering at Usha's holes.
Pankaj amused everyone by fucking her cunt and ass alternately. Five strokes in her cunt, then he'd pull his dick out, shove it in her ass, and five strokes there. That gave Kuljeet an idea. Of DP-ing my wife. He got on his back, made Usha sit on his cock, and then Pankaj started fucking her ass at the same time. Yatin, approached the table and started fucking her in the mouth. Watching my gorgeous wife, who until that night had refused to even entertain the idea of sleeping with one other guy, being fucked in all 3 holes simultaneously ALMOST made me cum.
I had been perpetually hard all night and it was starting to hurt. My balls felt heavy and throbbed. I needed release. I even contemplated dropping my pretense of sleep and joining them. But being their colleague held me back. It was one thing if they were fucking my wife assuming I was asleep. But acknowledging that I knew what was going on and approved of it could create some complications. So I just kept my eyes shut and prayed that I wouldn't shoot my load accidentally and mess up my pants.
After about two hours of fucking, the action seemed to wind down. Many guys started getting dressed and leaving. Finally there was only Navin and four other guys left. They also seemed to be tiring. Finally after Jay came for the fourth time that night, this time in my wife's ass, it seemed like the gangbang was over. The guys walked to a corner and started smoking and talking, leaving her on the table, naked, hair disheveled, covered with cum and oozing with cum, breathless and exhausted.
Usha just lay there, resting for about ten minutes. With a contented look on her face. Her legs were still wide open. I wondered if she was waiting for someone to come back and fuck her again. Finally she got up, and started walking to the bathroom. She announced to the guys that she was showering, and asked Navin for a towel. Navin said there were several in the wall closet in the bathroom.
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About five minutes later, I saw Yatin tiptoeing towards the bathroom door. He pushed it and was delighted to note that it was opened. He entered and I heard Usha's short but high pitched yelp that she utters when surprised. Yatin had probably sneaked in and scared her. Yatin stayed in the bathroom. A while later, Kuljeet also went in there. I was dying to go and see what was happening there, but I had pretended to be passed out for so long, I had to continue.

Five minutes later, Yatin came out, drying himself with a towel. Ten minutes later, Kuljeet came out, also with a towel. Five minutes after that, Usha emerged from the bathroom. She was fully naked from the neck down, and dried. The only piece of clothing on her was a towel wrapped around her wet hair. She looked so different, all clean scrubbed and showered, than she did a while back, all covered in cum. What a stark contrast, if you will pardon the pun.
She walked to the guys (who were now all dressed) like that, naked and with a towel around her hair, and asked them to help her get me to the car. Navin, who had been staring at her hungrily, commented on how her showered look had made him horny again. He pleaded with her to let him fuck her one more time. But she firmly refused, saying she didn't want to get messy again, and if he was so keen, he should have come to the shower like Yatin and Kuljeet did.
He kept pleading and pleading, and finally as a compromise, she agreed to give him a blowjob. She got on her knees right there, unzipped his pants, took out his cock and started sucking at it. I saw that for the first time that night, Usha was using her full effort-filled, special blowjob technique that she used with me. All the other occasions that night had been guys fucking her mouth. This was her taking the lead. One of the other guys watching pulled the towel from her head, and her wet hair spread all over. The novelty of her blowjob technique and the sight of her clean and naked on her knees with wet black hair had an instant effect on Navin, and he came into her mouth within minutes.
Finally Usha announced that she was done, and had to leave right away. She located her dress thrown in a corner, and put it on. Cum stains on it were very visible. She then asked the guys to help her take me to the car. Jay and Yatin picked me up, and walked outside with Usha. Soon I had been deposited in the passenger seat, and Usha, now fully sober, was in the driver's seat. I expected the car to start, but it stayed silent.
I opened my eyes a little and looked at Usha to see that she had rolled down the window and was facing outwards, with her mouth fully open. Next to her, Jay was jacking off. His dick was inches away from her lips. In a couple of minutes he said "Ok, almost there.", and stepped forward. Usha took his dick in her mouth and he deposited his final load of the night in her mouth. She didn't swallow it right away. Kept it in her mouth, swished it around audibly, then raised her face and swallowed with a loud noise, and then a loud sigh. Jay and Yatin cracked up, and she also started laughing. Finally, the two guys said goodbye very reluctantly, and Usha started driving us home.
When we got home, I acted like I was just sober enough to walk on my own to the house, so she would not have to recruit someone else to take me inside. The next day, a Saturday, both of us woke up around noon. Usha was acting very normally. No mention of the previous night. Finally, I broached the subject.
"So what happened at the party last night after I passed out?" I asked.
"Nothing much. Dancing, drinking, the usual stuff." she said "We played a version of musical chairs to decide who danced with whom."
And then she described the musical chairs to me, conveniently leaving out the part about her being fucked by Yatin.
"Was there any raunchy stuff?" I asked.
"Well, to be honest." Usha took a pause and said, "the guys did get a little carried away and felt me up a little more than I would have liked. But overall, they were well-behaved." She got up and started walking towards the bathroom.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"I need to wash my dress from yesterday." she replied "It's gotten too sweaty with all the dancing."
"Let the maid wash it." I suggested.
"No...it's an expensive dress. The maid will ruin it. I'll wash it myself." she said and disappeared into the bathroom.
 
Once she closed the door, I started laughing.

THE END
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aurelius1982

THE KAFTAN



Note: This is a story very much in line with my other Loving Wives stories. If you're the incel type who pretends to hate those themes, this is your trigger warning. You can leave and read something else. Or you can whine about my choice of category (whiniest ones LOL). Or you can read, masturbate while crying in self-loathing, and then post unimaginative racist comments that I laugh at and delete in a second. Your call. I have fun either way. Smile

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I stared at the last message in the text chain with my wife Ritu for the thousandth time in 45 minutes.

- changing into The Kaftan! xoxo
I tried her cell for the 4th time in 10 minutes. I had given her half an hour. She should have sent at least an "ok" by now. But at 45 minutes, I was officially starting to worry. I picked up the keys and ran to my car. I would call my boss and client and cancel the meetings tomorrow while driving home, which was 3 hours away. I was a bundle of nervous energy, a bizarre combination of trepidation and arousal. It had all happened so fast. Or at least it seemed that way.
In reality, it started a while ago. To be precise, eight months ago. The ball was set off by two almost simultaneous career events for us in our mid 30s. My wife was laid off from her longtime job, and had no other offers in hand. And I had been promoted, which meant we were financially okay, but it meant dividing my time between two cities that were three hours away. It also happened to be the time our son Che turned 12 and built such an active extra-curricular life and friends circle for himself, that it felt like we only saw him when he had to sleep or eat, and sometimes not even that. He got that from his mom whose picture albums from childhood sports events and competitions and award functions almost filled a room in her parents' home.
So Ritu, by nature a very hyperactive and type A person, for the first time in her life, found herself with a lot of free time. We had an arranged marriage a couple of years after college when we were both in the same city in similar tech companies. The story of a million 21st century Indian couples unfolded the same was for us. Long hours at work, long commutes, early morning or late night or weekend conference calls, release deadlines, paid leaves that go untaken etc.
In the middle of this, you're trying to get to know the stranger you were married off to just because they are from the right caste, not bad to look at, and have a well paying job. Get to know them physically as well as emotionally. But before you know it, your parents' constant demands for grandchildren start weighing on you. And the conventional "the earlier you have one, the better it is for the mother" wisdom. So by the time the pregnancy happens, even after a year or two of technically being husband and wife, you are no closer personally than a couple in the western world would be on their 7th date.
From the time we got pregnant to the time Che announced that he did not want a party for his 11th birthday, just treat his friends at the mall, the dozen years are a blur. Ritu and I were together in the journey, earning the dough, and turning it into bread and also climbing corporate ladders. But more like business partners from a corporate merger than spouses. Or maybe that's what arranged marriage is. A corporate merger of sorts. The due diligence is very similar.
But enough of social commentary. Let's get to the good part. Cut to about seven months ago.
"Sorry, I better take this." I said as I saw Ritu was calling for a third time in the middle of my meeting, even after I declined the previous two. My colleagues nodded as I swivelled the chair away, crouched down, and answered.
"The fucking kitchen sink is leaking again! I told Shafi there was a bigger problem!"
Ritu's voice was so loud that I am sure the entire room heard it even without the speakerphone.
"I'm in a meeting, honey." I said, with forced patience. She had worked in this industry until a month ago. She should know better. What could I do about the plumbing from 3 hours away?
"Yeah, I know. But I need you to call them right after and yell at them in your jatt voice that..."
That's when the conference room door opened, and another colleague came rushing in.
"Sorry sorry sorry everyone! So sorry! Got stuck in traffic!" she said.
I nodded, as did others. Ritu's voice on the phone, after this interruption, went from angry to chilly.
"Is that Denise?"
"Yeah." I said.
"Can't be a very important meeting if she can waltz in late. Or does she get special consideration because she threw herself at you?"
"Not now, Ritu. I'll yell at Shafi. Bye."
And I hung up, not rising to the bait. The meeting resumed.
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When I got out of it, I was like a volcano waiting to burst. The month that Ritu had been laid off had easily been the most acrimonious time of our marriage. She simply was not used to sitting at home. And she did spend a lot of time volunteering with a rescue shelter, she still missed the adrenaline rush of the corporate chase. She was getting annoyed at the smallest of things and yelling way more than ever before.

Part of it had been resurrecting the Denise issue. Which wasn't even that much of an issue. Two years ago at a corporate retreat, Denise and I had shared a drunken kiss on the dance floor, surrounded by our equally drunk colleagues. There might have been some vigorous groping too. It was a moment of weakness for me. As a good looking and in-shape guy, I am used to attention from Indian female colleagues. I had never let it go beyond casual flirting, because honestly, who had the time for an affair? I barely got time to sleep with my wife, and she was a knockout still.
Denise though was white, recently transferred from the company's Sweden office. A tall shapely friendly Scandinavian beauty a decade younger caressing my triceps and tucking her hair behind her ears, and laughing too hard at my dad jokes...that was a whole other temptation. I only succumbed to it for a minute at that party, very drunk. And even then, I pulled away after that minute, rebuffed any further advances. She slipped a room key into my pocket. It stayed in my pocket.
My mistake was not telling Ritu about it right away. Like right right away. I woke up to an angry call at 8 AM, with a horrible hangover.
"You fucked Denise?" icy chill.
"What? No! Who the fuck..."
It was pointless asking who told her. There had been a few dozen people at that party, many of whom knew Ritu from our common industry. I could think of four women instantly who might have tattled to her.
"Ritu, listen to me. I did not have sex with Denise. All that happened was a drunken kiss in a moment of weakness. And I pulled away. And that was it. It meant nothing."
"She did not give you her room key?"
"She did. I did not use it. I swear, honey. Just an impulsive drunk kiss. Meant nothing."
"So you will get away with anything if you say it meant nothing?"
You get this gist. It was a fight that lasted a few weeks. Only an apology from Denise along with the sworn promise that nothing happened nor will ever happen finally put the issue to bed two years ago. And we moved on. Or so I had thought.
Now it seemed like what bothered Ritu more than my being away most of the month was that Denise was on the same project. Or maybe that Denise was still gainfully employed (and had risen faster than usual) while she was twiddling her thumbs at home. She started making snide Denise comments again. That added to my own stress and annoyance.
So when I called Shafi, our gated community's maintenance in-charge, I took it all out on him.
"Shafi! You motherfucker...does my wife have nothing better to do than deal with sinks every other day? You are fucking ruining my whole..."
Again, you get the gist. I really let him have the full fury of my jatt rage. He didn't argue back, but did not sound pleased. And later, when I cooled down, I felt bad about it. It wasn't Shafi's fault. It was the damn builder's fault. Another typical Indian white collar thing we had done was buy as fancy and as expensive a house as our salaries could permit. A high end gated community with its own dedicated staff for everything. It worked exactly as advertised for about 5 years.
Then the mediocre quality of the builder's work started revealing itself. Maintenance folks started getting swamped with requests as something or the other kept breaking down. Shafi, in his early 20s, was the "boss" of a 3 person team constantly trouble-shooting some 40 houses which kept having new breakdowns almost everyday. The quality of their work and response rates were bound to suffer.
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After making a mental note to call up Shafi after work and apologize, I got back to work. A lot of work. In the middle of that, I got a text from Ritu.

- Sink ok now. Thanks. Sorry for yelling. I was a little drunk.
I had no idea if my wife was making a sarcastic Denise reference or if she was serious about being drunk at 3 PM. Either was possible. Being home alone for lunch everyday, with me at work at Che at college, she had started having a glass of wine or two just to help her calm down. Which I didn't think much of. I often had a glass of wine with business lunches. But what I noticed on my last visit home was that the wine shelf was a lot emptier than just a drink or two per day would indicate. I did not bring it up. But it did seem like Ritu had started to drink more than usual to cope with her situation.
"Sorry I was such a bitch." she guiltily grinned that night when I video called her from my service apartment.
"It's okay honey, I understand."
"You must have really let Shafi have it. He came way quicker than I expected. Usually they take at least 24 hours."
"Yeah, I should apologize."
"No need to apologize and all. It's his job. Besides he was kind of rude and also a little creepy, though he did fix the sink."
"What? Creepy?"
"Little creepy, nothing drastic. For a little while I was wearing just my robe and my body was half wet and I caught him leering at me."
"You were wearing just your robe and your...what???"
"Hehe." she giggled. "After yelling at you, I got in a bubble bath with a bottle of wine..."
Notice she said bottle not glass. She continued,
"...bottle of wine and candles and I was nicely buzzed with the doorbell rang. I thought it was one of the bath salts I had ordered, so just threw on a robe and ran to the door. But it was Shafi, with his tool trolley. Said he was here at your orders. Looked a bit sulky, not his usual smiling self."
I imagined how my wife's voluptuous body, right out of a bath, must have looked with just a robe wrapped around it. It seemed like the start of a million porn videos. The handyman and the frustrated housewife just out of a bath.
"Anyway, while he went to the kitchen, I was walking to the bedroom to dry up and get dressed. When I noticed his reflection in the display shelf on my way, I saw he was just staring at me."
"At your butt probably."
"Shut up!"
"What? It is not news to you that men admire your butt all the time. You put it in a damp robe and of course a guy is going to stare, especially if he thinks you are facing away from him."
"Yeah. Well, anyway, I got dressed and came out. And watched his work and told him all my theories and suggestions..."
Ritu's analytical decision making mental energy, unused without a job, had found its outlet in plumbing research. She had been reading a lot of forums and watching videos since these troubles started with the kitchen recently. And given her outspoken and opinionated nature, she did not feel shy sharing her thoughts with the maintenance staff, especially Shafi. From what I heard, the sexist pigs were not thrilled by a woman backseat driving their work, although men do it all the time.
"He was half listening and, well, subtly checking me out still!"
"What were you wearing?"
"Jeans, simple t-shirt. Nothing skimpy. And again, nothing blatant or past the line. But coming close to the line. Like looking away from my face to my chest for a noticeable split second. Things like that."
"Hope that didn't add to your stress."
"Hehe, honestly, it relieved it. Maybe it was the tipsiness from the wine. The fact that I had spent half a minute with him naked under my robe. Also, well, he isn't someone a woman would kick out of bed. Hehehe."
I don't know about the afternoon, but Ritu was definitely drunk that night. I could not imagine her making such a comment off-hand. It was so out of character from her Type A always in charge almost headmistress-like personality that I felt a little turned on.
"Maybe you should cash in your free pass on him then!" I said, impulsively.
There was a short pause and then she said,
"Yeah, you'd like that wouldn't you? Use it up on some random plumber fellow. No, I am going to save it up for some hunky billionaire VC to fund my start-up. Maybe on his yacht."
This was one of those things that neither of us were sure about it being a joke or a taunt or something even remotely serious. In the aftermath of Denisegate, this following conversation had happened two years ago.
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"You keep saying it meant nothing, like it's okay. What if I fuck a guy and say it meant nothing?"

I was so frustrated with the fights by then that I blurted out,
"Fine! Do it! Call it a free pass. If that is what it takes, do it."
She glared at me and laughed sarcastically.
"Yeah, right, as if your male ego could handle me even kissing a guy."
"I am serious, Ritu. I messed up with the kiss. I have said all I can say. I have apologized. Multiple times. If you sleeping with someone will get you over this, go for it!"
Ritu had the exact same look as she did during poker nights with friends when she went all in on a bluff and someone called.
"Yeah, well, it's the least you can do!" she sulked. The argument continued on other fronts.
----
After that, occasionally, Ritu would bring up the free pass in a jocular way. Like if a good looking guy walked by at the mall, she would be like, umm, free pass material. As time went by, it became more of a joke. I started using it too. This was one such time. And she seemed to be in a good mood. So I continued.
"Hey, if that's the only thing stopping you, I will give you two free passes. Use this on Shafi."
"No thank you. Anyway, Che had some new from his tennis coach that he wanted to share. So I will take the laptop to his room."
"Okay". And I started catching up on my son's exploits.
A couple of months went by. Ritu's outbursts grew less frequent, but I could see she was still having a hard time coping with being unemployed. To make matters worse, she was even "let go" from the shelter where she had been volunteering after a fight with the woman in charge. I could sense her slipping when I was home. She was trying her best to be upbeat, but this languid housewife was not the woman I had married.
I also started wondering about how much she was drinking when alone. Much of it had to be during the daytime, because when we did our nightly video calls, she was mostly sober, and never more than a little buzzed, which I too was at the end of a workday. But clearly the bottles were going somewhere. And then levels of whiskey, vodka, gin bottles started dropping way faster than unusual. I considered the possibility that maybe my 12 year old son was sneaking some stuff. But when newer bottles started replacing them without my buying, it was clearly Ritu. That worried me.
So I started calling more and more often during the workday. I even told my boss, who knew Ritu well, that we were having troubles with the long distance adjustment, so I needed to take breaks in between, even if it meant staying back at the office longer. These calls helped somewhat with her mood, but not with my worries about her drinking. She had gone from just sipping a small glass of wine to downing tall drinks of scotch during our half hour calls.
I still did not bring it up. Although we were like business partners in a merger in many ways, I still knew my wife well enough to know that she was not an alcoholic. Once she got a job, this would end. It was just a phase. Let her enjoy her drink for now, I thought.
It was during one such drunken daytime video chat that the next chapter of this saga occurred. I was a little tipsy too, because I had returned from lunch with clients visiting from Texas and those people love their lunch cocktails.
"You are so hot! And looking particularly hot right now!" I said. Because, she actually did not, and that's what a husband tries to do when he is making his wife feel better. She was in a t-shirt she had been wearing for 3 days straight. And wrinkled pyjamas. She looked like a mess.
"Thank you honey, I miss you!" she took a sip of scotch at 2:30 pm and said. "We should go back to Seychelles when you get time."
After our honeymoon, the only couples vacation we had managed to take was a week at the island resort a couple of years ago. It was also meant to be a reboot vacation from Denise-gate.
"You still have The Kaftan?" I smiled wryly.
"Of course! Although I can tell it's going to fall apart soon."
Which brings us to another flashback. During that trip, Ritu had bought a kaftan from a beach shack to wear over her swimsuit. And I just totally fell in love with how hot she looked in it. It was short, a little above mid-thigh. It was just semi transparent enough to give a hint of the curves underneath, and even let you guess the color of the swimsuit. But did not give away the farm. And it hugged her ample curves beautifully. So I insisted that she wear that cheap flimsy thing as much as possible in Seychelles, indoors and outdoors. And we had more quality sex in that week than we did in the previous year.
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Since then, in some intimate moments, I had my wife reprise those memories by throwing on the kaftan. I thought this was one such moment, although we have never used it in video chat. And clearly my wife thought the same. Because she skipped away from the screen, and then reappeared wearing the kaftan instead of those slobby Kevin Smith clothes.

"That's what I am talking about! Now, I am going to..."
That's when I heard the doorbell from the laptop.
"Just a sec! Probably a package." Ritu said and disappeared from the screen again. I could hear some faint voices from the living room.
She reappeared a minute later with a strange look on her face. Before I could ask, she said,
"It's Shafi. He needs to check some things in our bathroom, because the Agarwal's bathroom below us is leaking." she took her seat in front of the laptop and took another sip of scotch.
I wondered if Shafi had smelt nooze on her breath in the middle of the afternoon. While she was in this very sexy kaftan.
"Did he check you out again?" I asked.
"Obviously! I'm sure he now thinks I just roam around the house undressed. The robe last time and now this. I need to stop assuming that every doorbell is a flipkart delivery."
"Haha. Did he say anything?" it was an idle thought.
"Nothing inappropriate, but his eyes were roving a lot more. But that's just what he does now." she shrugged. And then a wry smile spread across her face.
"Ritu!" I said in a playful tone. "What do you mean by that?"
"It's...I don't know...nothing really. After that time with the robe, whenever I pass him around the complex, I think I sense a kind of...desire...in his eyes."
"All men desire you, honey."
"No, this is different. This seems more personal. Not a random appreciative glance."
"So he has the hots for you. Who doesn't?"
"You don't get it. Forget it!" she sighed in annoyance. "Anyway, I should change into regular clothes while...YES??"
She stopped mid-sentence and then disappeared from the room again. I had heard Shafi's voice in the background. I assumed he was leaving so she would be back soon. She did.
"Okay, he is gone. Where were we?" she seductively said. And we resumed our amorous conversations.
Later that day, I was alone in my service apartment, having a couple of drinks when finally a thought that was buzzing around in my head formed itself. Ritu looked so hot in that kaftan. You could make out the shape of her body and even sense her underwear. She knew this. She went to the door. She always checks who it is from the peephole. She would have seen Shafi. She could have just walked back in, thrown on regular clothes, and then opened the door. But she had opened it like that. And stayed like that. Surely the energetic young man had noticed what any man would notice.
Why this uncharacteristic behavior from my usually very cautious wife? This wasn't like her. And that's when I started thinking, how much do I really know her? Had we been together over a decade or just 7 dates in modern terms? Maybe it was the alcohol and the depression from being laid off. Maybe it was eagerness to get back to video sex with me. Maybe it was just an impulse.
But could it be a consciously carried out impulse? Did she want to exhibit herself to that young man as a way to titillate her mind? This thought did not exactly consume me, but it kept running in the back of my mind for the week before I returned home. Coincidentally, I passed Shafi in the lobby as I was walking in with my suitcase. He saw me, smiled, waved, and then turned and walked away looking at his phone. Almost as if avoiding me.
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