23-01-2019, 03:26 PM
"Look," she said, "just simply accept that my father can pleasure your wife far better than you ever could imagine."
"All those women over the years didn't show up for no good reason," she shot at me.
"But," I interjected trying to calm her down, "I am not complaining."
"I would just like to understand it."
She gave me a weird look and said, "First accept it."
"What?"
"Accept that my father is a better lover for her."
It was one thing to admit it in front of your wife and quite another to do so in front of someone else. My silence conveyed my answer but that didn't please her.
"Such is the hypocrisy of men."
"Most men live in their secluded world imagining that they are the best in everything."
"Don't get me wrong," she argued, "you are a better lover than my husband."
"But there is a chasm between you and my father."
"Manisha needs someone like him to justify the beauty nature has bestowed on her."
"You are not in a state to understand," she gave me a smirk.
"Remember," She said, "whether you like it or not, she has taken him as her husband."
"There is no backing down."
"Keep our relationship a secret and you wouldn't regret it," she said smiling.
I headed back to my office after that. I wasn't sure I was prepared for what awaited me at home yet. Amirchanji wasn't terribly upset with me for not showing up last night but there was tons of work that needed my attention. Manisha's call brought me back to my current situation.
She asked, "Aren't you coming home?"
"It would be dinner time soon." I checked my watch; it was already 7:30pm. Surprisingly I didn't realize once I got into my work.
"Would be home in half-an-hour," I replied.
"Come soon," she quipped.
Manisha opened the door for me eagerly. She had been waiting for me. Kishanchanji was watching TV, I thought. After bolting the door, she latched onto my lips and kissed me passionately. She was fresh. Her hair had mild fragrance of the shampoo and her body had the tenderness and warmth that only comes after taking a hot shower. She was hot and pushed me into the downstairs restroom and locked the door.
"I have been hungry for you," she exclaimed between the kisses.
"Why?"
"Hasn't he made you with you today?" I asked.
"Are you kidding?"
"He fucked me five times since last night already!"
"I feel like making out with you as well," she reasoned and continued her kissing.
There was something about her kissing that evening. It instilled a great deal of faith in my ability to pleasure her as a man. It is always difficult to find yourself in an inferior position and particularly so when it comes to the sex department. However, quite often, and this is my realization over the past several years, it is not a question of either-or. It is simply a question of the delicate balance between the two options and their relative priorities.
The dinner was ordinary; just seemed nothing had transpired. Manisha had already moved my stuff to the guest room. Kishanchanji headed to bed early, perhaps exhausted by the activities during the day. Manisha and I stayed back and spend time with each other. We didn't talk much about what happened but just shared our feelings of the current situation. She didn't allow me to makeout with her, promising that sometime during the night she would drop in after Kishanchanji fucks her.
Manisha didn't show up that night. She shared later that he did screw her in the wee hours but the action had left little desire to see me. There was a repeat of same welcome from her again. Her pristine state surprised me again. Inside the restroom, I asked again,
"What's up with your fresh breath?"
"Do you folks keep busy all day?"
"Well that's there and then I wanted to be fresh and ready for you."
I was puzzled by her reaction. She had aimed earlier to keep herself in the stale state and make out in that state with me.
"Really?" I asked, showing my surprise.
"Vinit," she seethed, "fantasy is good within limits."
"I have always liked keeping myself fresh and ready for you," she added.
"Besides you have given me the best gift."
We kissed passionately. My life had change significantly in the past few days but seeing her love for me, I realized that perhaps this phase of our life is not as bad as it seemed to me originally. However, one should not mistake a desert to an oasis after spending a few days at one.
"What gift?" I asked her breaking the kiss.
"Getting the middle aged bull for your wife," she whispered.
"He is quite something; fucks me three times everyday."
"There is no stopping him," she uttered. I chuckled.
"Seriously Vinit," she exuded, "in the past month we had more sex than we did in the first three months of our marriage."
She looked beautiful in the dim glow of the light in the restroom. Her face glowed. And it just seemed it was the result of the sexual satisfaction.
"And you know what he is a total pervert," she exclaimed excitedly.
"You will get know about it slowly."
"BTW, he wants to go on a cruise for honeymoon."
"He didn't want you to be around," she said, "but I insisted."
"Honeymoon?" I frowned at the audacity of the old man. But then we both had given him the leeway.
"We are going this Friday," she said. She kissed me again and headed out.
"And BTW," she said, slithering back into my arms again, "the stale breath and unhygienic conditions can be arranged on special days."
The next three days were the repeat and none of those times she made it to the guest bedroom.
It wasn't clear what the bad new was - whether it was that she was going for honeymoon with him or that I would be forced to tag along with them.
It meant more abstinence for me; at least at home I kissed her on a regular basis. However, when she reminded me to carry my condoms, I knew that there would be some action for me. It was great news as I hadn't had intercourse with her for the whole month now.
Kishanchanji had returned to his normal self and apart from the time he spent alone with her, he behaved normally I hoped there wouldn't be much of his misbehavior again.
Without much fanfare we checked into the cruise ship. We were spending three nights and four days on the cruise. Manisha definitely must have planned for a splendid honeymoon, keeping me on the verge all along I thought.
I wondered how she would manage her motherhood duties and yet pleasure her new husband. Tushar was only a little more than a year old, so it was unlikely that I could take care of him the whole night. Little did I realize that it was not a quandary for her at all. Instead of separate rooms for both us, she opted for a better room with the view of ocean but only one for all the three of us. It was tiny - only about 120-150 square feet but had essentially space for sleeping of four individuals.
There was a private balcony and right next to the entrance of the balcony was the double bed. On the left side there was the bathroom and by the side of the bathroom; the small alley that lead to the main entrance had a bunker bed on one side while the TV and entertainment system was right opposite to it. It was cramped but I felt it was better than having two separate rooms that could have cost a fortune. The added advantage was that the double bed was only about 5-6 feet from the edge of the bunker bed where I would most likely be based. It would be safe for Tushar to sleep on the lower bed, so the elevated seat offered me the best possible position in that setting.
The song and dance started that very night. Tushar having suckled on her Mother's breasts for about half hour was blissfully asleep. She had already prepared herself for the event. Kishanchanji was in the bathroom and when she put him to bed and turned to me and kissed me lightly on my lips.
"This is it," she whispered, snaking her tongue out to trace my lips, "Kishanchanji would not be voluntarily yielding his place in the bed."
"Did you get your condoms?" she asked, sexily. I nodded. Her eyes conveyed the excitement.
"You can enjoy the feeling of dipping it in tonight then."
"Can't assure that you would feel much, though," she teased and left me.
"Honey," he said, stepping towards her, sneering at me, "wouldn't this invade our privacy?"
"It would have been better if we had a separate room."
"Kishanchanji, I am your wife," she answered, leading him to the bed, "there is no need to hide anything."
"We keep the lights off or dim them but there is no reason for us to curtail our activities."
"Can't he overhear it?"
"Most likely he can, he isn't far away," she said looking at me, knowing very well that I would have wanted this way.
"But," she said in her assured tone, stepping closer to him, "Honey he needs to know that you treat your wife well."
"I promise," she said, looking at me, "he would be obedient."
She switched off the lights and kissed him right there in front of me. It took me a few moments for my eyes to get adjusted but the lights from the bathroom area allowed me to see the silhouettes. She pushed him back on the bed and proceeded to give him a blow job. The next hour was agonizingly painful for me as I heard the moaning and slurping sounds of my wife. He took her in all kinds of positions before unloading into her. She fellated him at least twice already I thought and I saw her do that again after he lay on his back. She obediently cleaned him up before settling back on the bed. I wondered when the next time would be as I dozed off. And then I felt a hand on my stomach. It slid within a few moments to my pecker that had shrunk back to normal size.
Manisha was standing by the bed and nuzzling my neck as her hand moved into my underwear and massaged my penis. As I woke from my slumber, she kissed me. Her tongue darted into my mouth in no time. Her breath was stale and reeked of semen. Not that mine was any better. I kissed her back as soon as I realized that it wasn't a dream. My penis swelled very soon in her hand. It just seemed that I would get to penetrate her. Her hand gently squeezed my sacs as well that had been working overtime producing semen that had no place to go but into the filthy condom. She climbed up on the berth and laid on top me and continued her kissing. It was very tight with little wiggle room but I didn't mind. She ground her hips against my pelvis, rubbing my penis but her whole attention was on the kissing. She was practically drooling in my mouth; something very unusual of her but the wetness provided a lot of satisfaction to both of us. I moved to her breasts and latched onto her breasts that were leaking milk. It usually happened when she was extremely excited. And she had shared that Kishanchanji loved draining her milk. In fact, her milk production had actually increased very much in the past month and she suspected that she may not get easily pregnant even though her periods had started.
"All those women over the years didn't show up for no good reason," she shot at me.
"But," I interjected trying to calm her down, "I am not complaining."
"I would just like to understand it."
She gave me a weird look and said, "First accept it."
"What?"
"Accept that my father is a better lover for her."
It was one thing to admit it in front of your wife and quite another to do so in front of someone else. My silence conveyed my answer but that didn't please her.
"Such is the hypocrisy of men."
"Most men live in their secluded world imagining that they are the best in everything."
"Don't get me wrong," she argued, "you are a better lover than my husband."
"But there is a chasm between you and my father."
"Manisha needs someone like him to justify the beauty nature has bestowed on her."
"You are not in a state to understand," she gave me a smirk.
"Remember," She said, "whether you like it or not, she has taken him as her husband."
"There is no backing down."
"Keep our relationship a secret and you wouldn't regret it," she said smiling.
I headed back to my office after that. I wasn't sure I was prepared for what awaited me at home yet. Amirchanji wasn't terribly upset with me for not showing up last night but there was tons of work that needed my attention. Manisha's call brought me back to my current situation.
She asked, "Aren't you coming home?"
"It would be dinner time soon." I checked my watch; it was already 7:30pm. Surprisingly I didn't realize once I got into my work.
"Would be home in half-an-hour," I replied.
"Come soon," she quipped.
Manisha opened the door for me eagerly. She had been waiting for me. Kishanchanji was watching TV, I thought. After bolting the door, she latched onto my lips and kissed me passionately. She was fresh. Her hair had mild fragrance of the shampoo and her body had the tenderness and warmth that only comes after taking a hot shower. She was hot and pushed me into the downstairs restroom and locked the door.
"I have been hungry for you," she exclaimed between the kisses.
"Why?"
"Hasn't he made you with you today?" I asked.
"Are you kidding?"
"He fucked me five times since last night already!"
"I feel like making out with you as well," she reasoned and continued her kissing.
There was something about her kissing that evening. It instilled a great deal of faith in my ability to pleasure her as a man. It is always difficult to find yourself in an inferior position and particularly so when it comes to the sex department. However, quite often, and this is my realization over the past several years, it is not a question of either-or. It is simply a question of the delicate balance between the two options and their relative priorities.
The dinner was ordinary; just seemed nothing had transpired. Manisha had already moved my stuff to the guest room. Kishanchanji headed to bed early, perhaps exhausted by the activities during the day. Manisha and I stayed back and spend time with each other. We didn't talk much about what happened but just shared our feelings of the current situation. She didn't allow me to makeout with her, promising that sometime during the night she would drop in after Kishanchanji fucks her.
Manisha didn't show up that night. She shared later that he did screw her in the wee hours but the action had left little desire to see me. There was a repeat of same welcome from her again. Her pristine state surprised me again. Inside the restroom, I asked again,
"What's up with your fresh breath?"
"Do you folks keep busy all day?"
"Well that's there and then I wanted to be fresh and ready for you."
I was puzzled by her reaction. She had aimed earlier to keep herself in the stale state and make out in that state with me.
"Really?" I asked, showing my surprise.
"Vinit," she seethed, "fantasy is good within limits."
"I have always liked keeping myself fresh and ready for you," she added.
"Besides you have given me the best gift."
We kissed passionately. My life had change significantly in the past few days but seeing her love for me, I realized that perhaps this phase of our life is not as bad as it seemed to me originally. However, one should not mistake a desert to an oasis after spending a few days at one.
"What gift?" I asked her breaking the kiss.
"Getting the middle aged bull for your wife," she whispered.
"He is quite something; fucks me three times everyday."
"There is no stopping him," she uttered. I chuckled.
"Seriously Vinit," she exuded, "in the past month we had more sex than we did in the first three months of our marriage."
She looked beautiful in the dim glow of the light in the restroom. Her face glowed. And it just seemed it was the result of the sexual satisfaction.
"And you know what he is a total pervert," she exclaimed excitedly.
"You will get know about it slowly."
"BTW, he wants to go on a cruise for honeymoon."
"He didn't want you to be around," she said, "but I insisted."
"Honeymoon?" I frowned at the audacity of the old man. But then we both had given him the leeway.
"We are going this Friday," she said. She kissed me again and headed out.
"And BTW," she said, slithering back into my arms again, "the stale breath and unhygienic conditions can be arranged on special days."
The next three days were the repeat and none of those times she made it to the guest bedroom.
It wasn't clear what the bad new was - whether it was that she was going for honeymoon with him or that I would be forced to tag along with them.
It meant more abstinence for me; at least at home I kissed her on a regular basis. However, when she reminded me to carry my condoms, I knew that there would be some action for me. It was great news as I hadn't had intercourse with her for the whole month now.
Kishanchanji had returned to his normal self and apart from the time he spent alone with her, he behaved normally I hoped there wouldn't be much of his misbehavior again.
Without much fanfare we checked into the cruise ship. We were spending three nights and four days on the cruise. Manisha definitely must have planned for a splendid honeymoon, keeping me on the verge all along I thought.
I wondered how she would manage her motherhood duties and yet pleasure her new husband. Tushar was only a little more than a year old, so it was unlikely that I could take care of him the whole night. Little did I realize that it was not a quandary for her at all. Instead of separate rooms for both us, she opted for a better room with the view of ocean but only one for all the three of us. It was tiny - only about 120-150 square feet but had essentially space for sleeping of four individuals.
There was a private balcony and right next to the entrance of the balcony was the double bed. On the left side there was the bathroom and by the side of the bathroom; the small alley that lead to the main entrance had a bunker bed on one side while the TV and entertainment system was right opposite to it. It was cramped but I felt it was better than having two separate rooms that could have cost a fortune. The added advantage was that the double bed was only about 5-6 feet from the edge of the bunker bed where I would most likely be based. It would be safe for Tushar to sleep on the lower bed, so the elevated seat offered me the best possible position in that setting.
The song and dance started that very night. Tushar having suckled on her Mother's breasts for about half hour was blissfully asleep. She had already prepared herself for the event. Kishanchanji was in the bathroom and when she put him to bed and turned to me and kissed me lightly on my lips.
"This is it," she whispered, snaking her tongue out to trace my lips, "Kishanchanji would not be voluntarily yielding his place in the bed."
"Did you get your condoms?" she asked, sexily. I nodded. Her eyes conveyed the excitement.
"You can enjoy the feeling of dipping it in tonight then."
"Can't assure that you would feel much, though," she teased and left me.
"Honey," he said, stepping towards her, sneering at me, "wouldn't this invade our privacy?"
"It would have been better if we had a separate room."
"Kishanchanji, I am your wife," she answered, leading him to the bed, "there is no need to hide anything."
"We keep the lights off or dim them but there is no reason for us to curtail our activities."
"Can't he overhear it?"
"Most likely he can, he isn't far away," she said looking at me, knowing very well that I would have wanted this way.
"But," she said in her assured tone, stepping closer to him, "Honey he needs to know that you treat your wife well."
"I promise," she said, looking at me, "he would be obedient."
She switched off the lights and kissed him right there in front of me. It took me a few moments for my eyes to get adjusted but the lights from the bathroom area allowed me to see the silhouettes. She pushed him back on the bed and proceeded to give him a blow job. The next hour was agonizingly painful for me as I heard the moaning and slurping sounds of my wife. He took her in all kinds of positions before unloading into her. She fellated him at least twice already I thought and I saw her do that again after he lay on his back. She obediently cleaned him up before settling back on the bed. I wondered when the next time would be as I dozed off. And then I felt a hand on my stomach. It slid within a few moments to my pecker that had shrunk back to normal size.
Manisha was standing by the bed and nuzzling my neck as her hand moved into my underwear and massaged my penis. As I woke from my slumber, she kissed me. Her tongue darted into my mouth in no time. Her breath was stale and reeked of semen. Not that mine was any better. I kissed her back as soon as I realized that it wasn't a dream. My penis swelled very soon in her hand. It just seemed that I would get to penetrate her. Her hand gently squeezed my sacs as well that had been working overtime producing semen that had no place to go but into the filthy condom. She climbed up on the berth and laid on top me and continued her kissing. It was very tight with little wiggle room but I didn't mind. She ground her hips against my pelvis, rubbing my penis but her whole attention was on the kissing. She was practically drooling in my mouth; something very unusual of her but the wetness provided a lot of satisfaction to both of us. I moved to her breasts and latched onto her breasts that were leaking milk. It usually happened when she was extremely excited. And she had shared that Kishanchanji loved draining her milk. In fact, her milk production had actually increased very much in the past month and she suspected that she may not get easily pregnant even though her periods had started.
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