19-12-2018, 02:28 PM
(This post was last modified: 19-01-2019, 02:05 PM by Ramesh_Rocky.)
As he said that, the woman spoke without looking back,
"Don't you dare take a close-up, Balram. I told you my condition for this clip, my face shouldn't appear."
That's when one of the sales guys watching the clip with me said,
"What a bitch. Doesn't mind showing the rest of her body naked, but won't show her face?" and everyone laughed.
"Don't worry, my dear." Balram's voice said, "I will shoot it in a way that your full face isn't seen. Only your luscious lips around the cock. And you can delete the clip afterwards if you aren't satisfied."
The woman on screen was about to say something when Mangal caught her head and held it down saying,
"You talk too much. Shut up and keep sucking. Trust sahib."
And only muffled moans of protest were heard. The camera started moving closer.
"First we take a close-up of her ass." the voice on the screen said as camera zoomed in on the ass, displaying a mole on the left buttcheek that pretty much shot to bits any hopes I had of this not being my wife. "Now the pussy" and he moved the camera under her pussy, giving a dark-lit shot that didn't show it too clear, "Now her boobs" he said showing my wife's luscious boobs bouncing against Mangal's knees, "and now, the lips and the cock." And the camera moved upwards.
My heart almost stopped as I dreaded the worst. Her full face would be visible. All these sales guys knew my wife. She had worked here after all. They had set me up for humiliation. They were going to laugh at me for being a cuckold. And spread the news all over the office.
These thoughts raced through my mind as the camera slowly moved upwards, but before it could reach the face, it was yanked from Balram's hand. By my wife. And thrown to the side. All that was visible for the next few seconds was the ceiling, and then the video stopped.
"Feisty little bitch!" Rahul said.
"Where did you get this?" I asked the guy who owned the laptop.
"Some friend forwarded it to me with a bunch of other clips. Liked it, didn't you?" he said. I stayed silent, hoping that no one had recognized Shilpa's voice. No one seemed to have. He continued, "You should watch the whole thing. It's twenty minutes long."
"Awesome video. The worst part though, is that she doesn't show her face at all. And speaks only at the end." another guy piped up. "Wonder what she charges for a night, man."
"How do you know she is a prostitute? Maybe she is just some desperate housewife." Rahul asked.
"Impossible, dude. A hot bitch like her can get any man she wants. Why would she give blowjobs to an old fat guy and his servant? She has to be one of those high class whores....25,000 rupees a night types."
"Maybe. But then if she was a whore, why didn't she actually fuck anyone? All we saw was oral sex." Rahul countered.
"Maybe she didn't fuck them on camera." the guy said.
By now my head was spinning.
"Guys, I've got to go." I said and walked out of the conference room.
It had been almost three weeks since Shilpa told me "the whole truth". Or as this clip made it clear, more lies. Our sex life had improved beyond recognition. We had talked it out, she had apologized, and things were kinda normal. Or so I thought. And suddenly the whole pretense had all come crashing down.
I quietly entered the order in the system as I thought about the situation. I had to confront her. Maybe even divorce her. But I needed to know the actual truth. And I could not trust her to give it to me.
Half an hour later, I was sitting in the seedy office of a "Detective Agency" I had found using the yellow pages. One that ensured "contractual confidentiality". A few minutes later, a heavy-set middle-aged woman dressed in a saree came inside and sat on the chair behind the desk.
"So, what can I do for you, Mr..." she said.
"Arun." I said.
"Yes, what can I do for you, Mr. Arun?" she asked.
"No offence, but can I speak to the boss?" I said.
She put her elbows on the table, smiled at me and said,
"I am the boss. My name is Salma. This detective agency belongs to me."
"Oh." I said, getting up. "I am sorry, but I think I'd prefer some other agency."
Just as I reached for the door, I heard Salma say,
"Think your wife is cheating on you?"
I turned around, surprised and said,
"How did you..."
"I can guess. Can't think of any other matter you'd feel uncomfortable discussing with a woman." she said.
I stood there, unsure of what to say, She continued,
"You can walk out the door if you want, Mr. Arun. But wouldn't you trust a detective agency headed by a woman to handle this issue more sensitively and discreetly than a man?"
Mutely, I sat down.
"So tell me, what makes you suspect she is cheating on you?" she asked.
And I started talking. And talking. And talking. It felt good to talk about this with someone. Felt like a load off my chest. I told her the whole story, starting with the portrait sessions, and ending with the video clip. After I stopped talking almost twenty minutes later, Salma, who had listened in silence, said,
"Don't you dare take a close-up, Balram. I told you my condition for this clip, my face shouldn't appear."
That's when one of the sales guys watching the clip with me said,
"What a bitch. Doesn't mind showing the rest of her body naked, but won't show her face?" and everyone laughed.
"Don't worry, my dear." Balram's voice said, "I will shoot it in a way that your full face isn't seen. Only your luscious lips around the cock. And you can delete the clip afterwards if you aren't satisfied."
The woman on screen was about to say something when Mangal caught her head and held it down saying,
"You talk too much. Shut up and keep sucking. Trust sahib."
And only muffled moans of protest were heard. The camera started moving closer.
"First we take a close-up of her ass." the voice on the screen said as camera zoomed in on the ass, displaying a mole on the left buttcheek that pretty much shot to bits any hopes I had of this not being my wife. "Now the pussy" and he moved the camera under her pussy, giving a dark-lit shot that didn't show it too clear, "Now her boobs" he said showing my wife's luscious boobs bouncing against Mangal's knees, "and now, the lips and the cock." And the camera moved upwards.
My heart almost stopped as I dreaded the worst. Her full face would be visible. All these sales guys knew my wife. She had worked here after all. They had set me up for humiliation. They were going to laugh at me for being a cuckold. And spread the news all over the office.
These thoughts raced through my mind as the camera slowly moved upwards, but before it could reach the face, it was yanked from Balram's hand. By my wife. And thrown to the side. All that was visible for the next few seconds was the ceiling, and then the video stopped.
"Feisty little bitch!" Rahul said.
"Where did you get this?" I asked the guy who owned the laptop.
"Some friend forwarded it to me with a bunch of other clips. Liked it, didn't you?" he said. I stayed silent, hoping that no one had recognized Shilpa's voice. No one seemed to have. He continued, "You should watch the whole thing. It's twenty minutes long."
"Awesome video. The worst part though, is that she doesn't show her face at all. And speaks only at the end." another guy piped up. "Wonder what she charges for a night, man."
"How do you know she is a prostitute? Maybe she is just some desperate housewife." Rahul asked.
"Impossible, dude. A hot bitch like her can get any man she wants. Why would she give blowjobs to an old fat guy and his servant? She has to be one of those high class whores....25,000 rupees a night types."
"Maybe. But then if she was a whore, why didn't she actually fuck anyone? All we saw was oral sex." Rahul countered.
"Maybe she didn't fuck them on camera." the guy said.
By now my head was spinning.
"Guys, I've got to go." I said and walked out of the conference room.
It had been almost three weeks since Shilpa told me "the whole truth". Or as this clip made it clear, more lies. Our sex life had improved beyond recognition. We had talked it out, she had apologized, and things were kinda normal. Or so I thought. And suddenly the whole pretense had all come crashing down.
I quietly entered the order in the system as I thought about the situation. I had to confront her. Maybe even divorce her. But I needed to know the actual truth. And I could not trust her to give it to me.
Half an hour later, I was sitting in the seedy office of a "Detective Agency" I had found using the yellow pages. One that ensured "contractual confidentiality". A few minutes later, a heavy-set middle-aged woman dressed in a saree came inside and sat on the chair behind the desk.
"So, what can I do for you, Mr..." she said.
"Arun." I said.
"Yes, what can I do for you, Mr. Arun?" she asked.
"No offence, but can I speak to the boss?" I said.
She put her elbows on the table, smiled at me and said,
"I am the boss. My name is Salma. This detective agency belongs to me."
"Oh." I said, getting up. "I am sorry, but I think I'd prefer some other agency."
Just as I reached for the door, I heard Salma say,
"Think your wife is cheating on you?"
I turned around, surprised and said,
"How did you..."
"I can guess. Can't think of any other matter you'd feel uncomfortable discussing with a woman." she said.
I stood there, unsure of what to say, She continued,
"You can walk out the door if you want, Mr. Arun. But wouldn't you trust a detective agency headed by a woman to handle this issue more sensitively and discreetly than a man?"
Mutely, I sat down.
"So tell me, what makes you suspect she is cheating on you?" she asked.
And I started talking. And talking. And talking. It felt good to talk about this with someone. Felt like a load off my chest. I told her the whole story, starting with the portrait sessions, and ending with the video clip. After I stopped talking almost twenty minutes later, Salma, who had listened in silence, said,
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