01-05-2019, 08:22 PM
It was a 16-seater mini-bus with really bad suspension so I sat in the row right behind the driver. Although I had assessed him to be low-risk, I was on tenterhooks as I sat there, the vehicle barreling down the road. I kept wondering if the guy might try to pull something. But other than a few occasional glances in the mirror, he seemed harmless. As time passed, I relaxed. I replied to a bunch of emails, checked my facebook, checked the news, and then plugged in earphones to listen to some music as the bus drove me home. Half an hour passed without incident and then I noticed the guy pick up his cellphone.
I was a little worried about safety as he answered the phone. It was risky talking on the phone while driving, especially on such dangerous roads. I paused my music. Instantly, I heard something that made my heart skip a beat.
"...yes, that one. The bank manager's wife. I am driving her home."
I heard the driver's voice say, as he presumably seemed to think that I was listening to music and couldn't hear what he was saying.
"Yes....yes she is alone. No.......no......I don't think so. Where?.........okay." was what I heard next.
My heart started racing as I tried to derive meaning out of the words I had heard. By themselves, they didn't seem too incriminating. That could be what he would say even if he didn't have any ulterior motives. At the same time, there was enough ambiguity there to suspect that I had again unwittingly thrown myself into a compromising situation.
I took my earphones off and put my phone in my purse. By then, he had ended his call.
"You shouldn't talk on the phone when you're driving." I said in an authoritative voice.
"Sorry, memsaab." he said, keeping his eye on the road. "It was the owner."
"What owner?"
"The owner of the mini-bus. My boss. So I had to answer."
"Okay." I said.
"He told me I have to pick him up with some people on the way. Won't be too long. Hope that's okay." he said, politely.
There was no edge to his voice, nothing suggestive, and other than the occasional expected glance, he had been a decent guy. So I had no reason to suspect him.
"That's fine." I said.
We drove along in silence for a few minutes. I was just sitting there looking out the window, trying to decide if I was in a vulnerable position again. A few minutes later, the driver spoke.
"Was it a good party, memsaab?"
"Yes, it was." I said.
"Did you have a good time?"
"It was okay."
"Did you meet ALL of your husband's colleagues?"
The stress on the word ALL made me pause. What was he implying?
"What are you implying?" I asked, suspiciously.
"Implying? Who is implying anything?" he shrugged innocently, then looked back at me and smiled.
But the way he said it, it made me think that he knew something.
"Are you.....are you asking if I met Barkha?" I asked pointedly.
"Did you meet Barkha?" he asked me a question in response.
"Yes, I did."
"Pretty girl, right?" he said, turning back to look at me and smile again.
"I suppose." I said, feeling my insecurity acting up. "Do you know her well?"
"Barkha? I have known her since childhood. She's always been a pretty and adventurous type. Especially in the last couple of years. Word around town is that she likes older handsome men. Usually married men with decent wives. Mostly decent wives. But then some wives think differently."
He said cryptically, looking back at me whole time with a wry smile.
"Look at the road!" I said urgently as I saw a truck approaching.
"Don't be scared, memsaab. I am a good driver. I promise you won't end up in some muddy pit that you can't get out of."
My heartbeat quickened. It could not be a coincidence. He was clearly referencing the first time the nukkad guys had laid their hands on me. I sat silently, just thinking. He kept driving. Despite that quip about the muddy pit, my mind was focused on my husband and his assistant.
"Tell me more about Barkha......" I paused and then said what was on my mind. "Is she having an affair with my husband?"
He kept driving silently for a few seconds, focusing on the road. Finally he spoke.
"Barkha is an adventurous girl for sure, memsaab. She has a fetish for older married men. Most wives are clueless about it. Sometimes the wives find out. Some wives just meekly accept it. Usually wives who have gotten fatter and uglier as the years have gone by and they had kids. They know they aren't as attractive anymore. So these wives don't mind if their husbands have a little fun on the side with someone like Barkha, as long as their husbands come home to them and provide for their families. And then there are some wives like you."
"Like me?" I asked, surprised by that last statement.
"Yes, memsaab. Wives who have no kids, are still hot, and want to experiment a little with other men in their free time. So they are okay with their husbands enjoying themselves elsewhere so they get the time to do their own thing."
What the hell was this guy saying? My mind was in a state of confusion. Was he implying that Vinay and Barkha were having an affair, and that I knew about it, and that I let it continue because it meant I could fuck men on the side myself? More than Vinay and Barkha, the foremost question in my mind was, did this guy know everything about me? The muddy pit comment certainly suggested that. I decided to bell the cat.
"So that's what you think of me? A woman who wants to experiment a little with other men in her free time?" I don't know how I managed to sound offended when I asked this question, despite its substance being true.
The driver didn't answer right away. He drove silently for a few seconds. He then looked back at me, smiled, and checked out my boobs over the sari before looking ahead. Finally he started talking.
"I can understand why you are feeling so upset, memsaab. You are from Mumbai, a big city. You big city people are very old-fashioned."
"Really? WE are old-fashioned?" I said incredulously.
"Yes, you are. In big cities, if a woman sees her husband talking to some unknown hot woman, she wants to find out what's going on. She doesn't know the woman. She doesn't know what's happening. It's all about being pure and old-fashioned."
This logic sounded bizarre to me.
"And how are you people different?"
He thought for a few seconds before answering.
"We are different because there are no unknown people. Everyone knows everyone. There is no suspicion of the unknown and no wish to destroy someone's life by tattling on them. We know that everyone had temptations, everyone has limitations, and everyone had constraints. We live in a society and we have to keep up appearances."
"I have no idea what you are talking about." I really didn't. He laughed.
"What I am saying is, memsaab, let's say there is a bored hot wife who wants to sleep around with lots of different men. Everyone in town knows everyone. So other men who might have a shot at sleeping with her will come to know about it. But again, everyone knows everyone. So we don't want to destroy any lives. So we keep those facts hidden from people who might get hurt. And those people involved are okay with the facts being hidden because it serves their own purpose. Their partners might or might not have their own secrets, so it's a good system to maintain"
I tried to digest what he was saying. It sounded too convoluted.
"So you are saying that my husband IS having an affair with Barkha, thinking that it leaves me free to have my own affairs?" is the best I could come up with.
"Not exactly." he said, shaking his head.
"Then?"
"Then what?"
"My husband is sleeping with Barkha?"
"I didn't say that!" he said instantly.
"Then what the hell are you saying?" I was getting really annoyed.
"I am just saying that you Mumbai people don't understand how things work here in these parts." he said.
As I tried to make sense of what he said, the mini-bus started slowing down. It had pulled off the highway and was going into a narrow rural street.
"Where are we going?" I asked in a panicky voice.
"Relax, memsaab." he said. "I told you already. I have to pick up some people."
He was right. He had told me that and I had said it was fine.
"Okay." I said as the bus came to a stop on a narrow countryside road with trees all around.
He turned the ignition off and got up from his seat, stretching. As he turned around to face me, I was shocked to see that his zip was open and a thick 6 inch dick was poking out.
"What the hell?" I shouted.
"Don't worry, memsaab. I am not Jamal!"
He said languidly and then sat down on the seat next to mine.
I was a little worried about safety as he answered the phone. It was risky talking on the phone while driving, especially on such dangerous roads. I paused my music. Instantly, I heard something that made my heart skip a beat.
"...yes, that one. The bank manager's wife. I am driving her home."
I heard the driver's voice say, as he presumably seemed to think that I was listening to music and couldn't hear what he was saying.
"Yes....yes she is alone. No.......no......I don't think so. Where?.........okay." was what I heard next.
My heart started racing as I tried to derive meaning out of the words I had heard. By themselves, they didn't seem too incriminating. That could be what he would say even if he didn't have any ulterior motives. At the same time, there was enough ambiguity there to suspect that I had again unwittingly thrown myself into a compromising situation.
I took my earphones off and put my phone in my purse. By then, he had ended his call.
"You shouldn't talk on the phone when you're driving." I said in an authoritative voice.
"Sorry, memsaab." he said, keeping his eye on the road. "It was the owner."
"What owner?"
"The owner of the mini-bus. My boss. So I had to answer."
"Okay." I said.
"He told me I have to pick him up with some people on the way. Won't be too long. Hope that's okay." he said, politely.
There was no edge to his voice, nothing suggestive, and other than the occasional expected glance, he had been a decent guy. So I had no reason to suspect him.
"That's fine." I said.
We drove along in silence for a few minutes. I was just sitting there looking out the window, trying to decide if I was in a vulnerable position again. A few minutes later, the driver spoke.
"Was it a good party, memsaab?"
"Yes, it was." I said.
"Did you have a good time?"
"It was okay."
"Did you meet ALL of your husband's colleagues?"
The stress on the word ALL made me pause. What was he implying?
"What are you implying?" I asked, suspiciously.
"Implying? Who is implying anything?" he shrugged innocently, then looked back at me and smiled.
But the way he said it, it made me think that he knew something.
"Are you.....are you asking if I met Barkha?" I asked pointedly.
"Did you meet Barkha?" he asked me a question in response.
"Yes, I did."
"Pretty girl, right?" he said, turning back to look at me and smile again.
"I suppose." I said, feeling my insecurity acting up. "Do you know her well?"
"Barkha? I have known her since childhood. She's always been a pretty and adventurous type. Especially in the last couple of years. Word around town is that she likes older handsome men. Usually married men with decent wives. Mostly decent wives. But then some wives think differently."
He said cryptically, looking back at me whole time with a wry smile.
"Look at the road!" I said urgently as I saw a truck approaching.
"Don't be scared, memsaab. I am a good driver. I promise you won't end up in some muddy pit that you can't get out of."
My heartbeat quickened. It could not be a coincidence. He was clearly referencing the first time the nukkad guys had laid their hands on me. I sat silently, just thinking. He kept driving. Despite that quip about the muddy pit, my mind was focused on my husband and his assistant.
"Tell me more about Barkha......" I paused and then said what was on my mind. "Is she having an affair with my husband?"
He kept driving silently for a few seconds, focusing on the road. Finally he spoke.
"Barkha is an adventurous girl for sure, memsaab. She has a fetish for older married men. Most wives are clueless about it. Sometimes the wives find out. Some wives just meekly accept it. Usually wives who have gotten fatter and uglier as the years have gone by and they had kids. They know they aren't as attractive anymore. So these wives don't mind if their husbands have a little fun on the side with someone like Barkha, as long as their husbands come home to them and provide for their families. And then there are some wives like you."
"Like me?" I asked, surprised by that last statement.
"Yes, memsaab. Wives who have no kids, are still hot, and want to experiment a little with other men in their free time. So they are okay with their husbands enjoying themselves elsewhere so they get the time to do their own thing."
What the hell was this guy saying? My mind was in a state of confusion. Was he implying that Vinay and Barkha were having an affair, and that I knew about it, and that I let it continue because it meant I could fuck men on the side myself? More than Vinay and Barkha, the foremost question in my mind was, did this guy know everything about me? The muddy pit comment certainly suggested that. I decided to bell the cat.
"So that's what you think of me? A woman who wants to experiment a little with other men in her free time?" I don't know how I managed to sound offended when I asked this question, despite its substance being true.
The driver didn't answer right away. He drove silently for a few seconds. He then looked back at me, smiled, and checked out my boobs over the sari before looking ahead. Finally he started talking.
"I can understand why you are feeling so upset, memsaab. You are from Mumbai, a big city. You big city people are very old-fashioned."
"Really? WE are old-fashioned?" I said incredulously.
"Yes, you are. In big cities, if a woman sees her husband talking to some unknown hot woman, she wants to find out what's going on. She doesn't know the woman. She doesn't know what's happening. It's all about being pure and old-fashioned."
This logic sounded bizarre to me.
"And how are you people different?"
He thought for a few seconds before answering.
"We are different because there are no unknown people. Everyone knows everyone. There is no suspicion of the unknown and no wish to destroy someone's life by tattling on them. We know that everyone had temptations, everyone has limitations, and everyone had constraints. We live in a society and we have to keep up appearances."
"I have no idea what you are talking about." I really didn't. He laughed.
"What I am saying is, memsaab, let's say there is a bored hot wife who wants to sleep around with lots of different men. Everyone in town knows everyone. So other men who might have a shot at sleeping with her will come to know about it. But again, everyone knows everyone. So we don't want to destroy any lives. So we keep those facts hidden from people who might get hurt. And those people involved are okay with the facts being hidden because it serves their own purpose. Their partners might or might not have their own secrets, so it's a good system to maintain"
I tried to digest what he was saying. It sounded too convoluted.
"So you are saying that my husband IS having an affair with Barkha, thinking that it leaves me free to have my own affairs?" is the best I could come up with.
"Not exactly." he said, shaking his head.
"Then?"
"Then what?"
"My husband is sleeping with Barkha?"
"I didn't say that!" he said instantly.
"Then what the hell are you saying?" I was getting really annoyed.
"I am just saying that you Mumbai people don't understand how things work here in these parts." he said.
As I tried to make sense of what he said, the mini-bus started slowing down. It had pulled off the highway and was going into a narrow rural street.
"Where are we going?" I asked in a panicky voice.
"Relax, memsaab." he said. "I told you already. I have to pick up some people."
He was right. He had told me that and I had said it was fine.
"Okay." I said as the bus came to a stop on a narrow countryside road with trees all around.
He turned the ignition off and got up from his seat, stretching. As he turned around to face me, I was shocked to see that his zip was open and a thick 6 inch dick was poking out.
"What the hell?" I shouted.
"Don't worry, memsaab. I am not Jamal!"
He said languidly and then sat down on the seat next to mine.
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