Adultery A Thakur and His Bahu by misterwho

[Ramesh_Rocky]

The pressure on Pritam to travel home with his wife grew and culminated in this trip when both husband and wife headed to the family home in the village.

Binita felt a bit tense as the train slid into the station. It was likely to be awkward but she took comfort from the fact that several 'normal' conversations had happened with both Thakur and Thakurain all these months gone by. Porters flashed by the train their red uniforms flapping in the breeze generated by the moving carriages. Some ran along the train to get customers. People in the crowd on the platform peered in to try spot their friends or relatives whom they had come to pick up. Some people hung out of the train to spot those on the platform.

People were waving to each other and the joy of arrival spilt from train to platform to join and coalesce with the corresponding sentiments of those on the platform. In this sea of joy and happiness was a fairly large contingent of relatives from the Thakur household. Pritam was a favorite son and his wife Binita had endeared herself to the family at large with her playfulness. Everyone wanted to be there, and every one was there. Not least the Thakur himself.

Binita felt her chest constrict as she felt her heartbeats rise. She gripped Pritam's arm tighter than she realized almost hurting him. Suddenly, she didn't want to arrive. Suddenly she felt an excitement which she knew didn't belong. Suddenly she knew that control would be difficult.

Some of the party jumped on board the now slow train to take charge of their things and soon Binita and Pritam found that they only needed to walk and had a whole set of people waiting on them hand and foot. The joy of being part of a large Thakur household was such a relief from the grind of city life!

The couple touched the feet of all elders present one by one and in traditional fashion each person accepted the obeisance and quickly gave them a hug of belonging. When Binita was hugged by her mother-in law the Thakurain, she thought she felt the woman press her to the bosom more than necessary and fingers stroke her more than needed. Perhaps it felt excessive. But perhaps it was her imagination.

But Thakur's embrace of his daughter-in-law was graphic enough for her to know it was not imagination. In the melee it was not evident to none; but Thakurain had been watching for the moment and it was not lost on her.

In rural India, cars have to be large. The larger the bigger the status symbol. And none are larger than the old American cars of the sixties. Most of the large cars in India are either those, or commercially failed / out of date models like the Contessa, Cielo and so on.

And so it was with the Thakur. He had a large American Dodge, painted in two shades of blue by the town mechanic. In keeping with his lordly status he ensconced himself in the car. Thakurain got in at the other door at the back but a cousin sister of hers prevailed upon her to push in and give her space. The cousin sister's lap held large basket of home made savories she had brought for Thakurain to feed her son.

Pritam sat in the front with the driver and next to Pritam was Yogesh, the cousin whom Binita had ended up masturbating on that Holi day. No one had particularly taken care of Binita's seating and she was about to dash off to one of the other smaller vehicles when Thakur opened his door. She could not have sat in the front, squeezed in with the young man.

It was the kind of opportunity Thakur had resolved he would not hesitate to jump upon. He had missed the vivacious girl's touch, the softness of her skin, the right sized breasts that so filled his hands, those nipples and yes, her raunchy fucking at him. He could not overtly ask for her to present herself at the household and restricted himself to the more formal requests for husband and wife to come home to make a full family.

In reality, on at least one occasion he had planned a visit to the city to stay with his son so that he could fuck Binita. But it never worked out. His pent up lust for the younger woman found expression in a wild, rough and brutal fucking of his various women. Thakurain rode, literally, the storm in his fucking. The maids ended up with mauled breasts, bruised thighs and sore cunts as he pounded them in frustration.

They enjoyed, as they always did, Thakur's unmatched vigor. But they did enjoy the slapping; the digging in of nails and the way he held them brutally wide open when he now fucked them. They went away with aching limbs and sore bodies. They were unable to let their husbands see their bare bodies for a few days for the marks were so obvious; they were also quite content and no need of further fucking. Just as they were ready to succumb to their husbands, it was Thakur's turn to catch them again. And so the cycle went.