Adultery Indian Wife and the Nukkad Guys by shiprat

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Jamal kept flipping channels at a rapid pace leaning back on the couch as I sucked his dick. It took a little time coming to life but it eventually stood at attention. This was the first close look I had gotten at it in an erect state because the last time he had make me clean it off, it was already limp. I realized that it was actually bigger than I had first thought it to be. It wasn't huge or anything, it it was a respectable 6 inches or so. The circumcised tip had veins running along it, making it look really ugly.


"Not bad, Sheetal, not bad." Jamal nonchalantly said.*

I marveled at how hairy his thighs were, and how many tires there were in his tummy. That big potlike structure hanging above my head was anything but a turn-on. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine it was someone else's dick I was sucking.

"Hey, open your eyes." he gently slapped me on my cheek. "In fact look up at me while you suck my dick."

I got a little annoyed at his entitled tone. I was cooperating by sucking his dick in my own living room. He couldn't dictate every move I made. I just ignored his instruction. That did not go down well.

"You bitch, you're still not listening to me?"

I felt his hands grab my hair and pull my mouth off his cock. It sprang back and forth as it exited my cheeks.*

"I am sucking you off, aren't I?" I defiantly said.

He glared at me, as if deciding how to react to my insolence.

"Get up." he snapped his fingers.

Reluctantly I stood up, wondering if I should apologize. He looked unnecessarily upset. His hands roughly reached for the knot of my salwar and pulled at it. It was a loose one, so it dropped to my ankles. Next he dragged my panties down. I guessed he was going to fuck me, which I actually wanted. Sucking his dick given his hygiene was abhorrent, but as long as it was in my cunt, at least I would get some pleasure from it.

"Get on the couch. Facing away. Put your hands on the backrest."

He had me primed for a doggy style fucking. I tried to look displeased, but I guess the eagerness on my face was obvious.

"You want to get fucked, don't you?" he derisively asked.

"Yes." I heard myself say as I stared at the wall away from him. My bra and mangalsutra were still on.*

"Well, we'll see about that."

I heard the sound of his belt being unbuckled. And then there was a sliding sound of leather against fabric. I assumed he was taking his pants off. My pussy wet, I waited for the penetration.

"OWWWWWW!!!" I screamed in pain as instead, I felt the belt lash across my buttocks.

What the hell? This disgusting old man was whipping my ass like I was some sort of a slave. My ass stinging, I tried to move away, but before that, he landed. My movement meant half of it landed on my inner right thigh and my pussy. It hurt like a bitch!

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU???" I shouted, not concerned that the neighbors might hear.

"You bitch, you think you can be insolent with me?" he said, moving rapidly for such a fat guy.

I tried to run, but he was on top of me on the couch. As I struggled, he reached for a handkerchief in his pocket. The next moment, the disgusting fabric tasting and stinking of his sweat was thrust into my mouth. I tried to spit it out but it seemed like Jamal had a lot of experience when it came to gagging people. I was still struggling, but he was too strong for me. Before I knew it, he had used my salwar to tie my hands behind my back.*

Now I was naked except for my bra and my mangalsutra, bent over the couch backrest, and my round stinging ass fully accessible to his punishment. With tears in my eyes, I looked at the open living room window. We were too far inside the room, so at least the workers couldn't see how the prim proper wife they had seen in the morning was now bent over and being whipped with a belt.

"SLUT!!

"WHORE!!"

"SKANK!!"

"BITCH!!"

Tears streamed out of my eyes and started soaking the couch back as the belt kept lashing my ass. I was crying and drool was soaking the handkerchief in my mouth as he landed about a dozen lashes before stopping. Then he seemed to calm down a little.

"Had enough?" he asked, turning my head to face him.

I looked into his eyes with tears in mine and nodded.

"Will you argue with me again?"

I shook my head.

"Do you realize who is in charge here?"

I nodded.

"Hmmm."*

I thought he would untie my hands and remove the gag. But he didn't. He just turned me around so I fell on the couch facing him, my hands stuck between my back and the couch. He lifted my legs by my ankles and held them wide apart. Then he put his knees on the couch right below my ass and entered me in one swift motion. As he did, I noticed, much to my horror, that my cunt was sopping wet. The ass-whooping, far from distressing my body, had actually turned me on. So not only humiliation, but my depraved side also seemed to enjoy pain.*

"Look into my eyes." Jamal ordered and this time I obeyed.*

Putting my ankles on his shoulders, he pounded me hard. In between, he kept spitting on my face. My cunt radiated pleasure from the penetrative assault. My tender ass cheeks hurt as they rubbed against the couch fabric. His flabby stomach kept flopping over mine. And I hated when I felt a rumbling inside my loins and recognized that I was about to have an orgasm.

Jamal was true to his word and lasted almost fifteen minutes, fucking me in that uncomfortable position on the couch, without removing the gag or untying my hands. My tears and muffled grunts of sadness and pain slowly turned to those of pleasure.

"You really have no morals or limits, do you?" he spat at me.

When he finally came inside me, I had orgasmed one more time, hating that this ugly asshole had derived the satisfaction of knowing he had made me cum twice.

Jamal let me lay there, commanding me to keep my legs open, as he watched his jizz drip down my thighs and fall on the floor. He was asserting his dominance by keeping me bound and gagged longer than necessary. Finally he took the gag out. I coughed hard.

"There is one more thing you have to do." he said.

I looked at him, terrified and aroused.*

"Get down on the floor on your knees and lick the jizz that has fallen on the floor."

Obediently, I slid down to the floor, bent over and licked all the drops. It was only after he was satisfied that the floor was completely clean did he allow me to get up, and then untied my hands.*

"I have to get back to work." he said, getting dressed as I felt my sore wrists and examined my ass. It was red but going back to its pink-white shade soon. *"There are no marks. See how considerate I am? I don't want your husband to see an ass beaten black and blue so I took it easy on you."

A bitter retort almost spilled out of my mouth but I controlled myself.

"Walk me to the door." he said.

"Like this?" I asked, worried.

"No.....I don't want those poor Bangalis to die of shock." he generously said. "You can wear your kurta."

Small mercies, I thought as I covered my nakedness and walked him to the door. Before leaving, he licked me on my cheek again. What was this man's obsession with licking? As he walked out, I made eye contact with the laborers standing across the street. I couldn't imagine what went through their mind as they saw my bare shins, my dishevelled hair, and my drooling face. They knew that their boss had fucked this nympho again. I noticed that had kept the empty tea glasses outside the door. So it's posible that they actually heard me being whipped. A couple of them were fidgeting around with their lungis, so they probably had erections.

"I will see you tomorrow." Jamal said and nonchalantly walked away like he had just finished a social visit. Luckily Sarita wasn't around this time. I shut the door and cried for the next ten minutes.