Adultery Indian Wife and the Nukkad Guys by shiprat

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Although I had just been bathed at length with cold water, my whole body felt like it was on fire from arousal. Those two strong virile men with erect cocks poking huge tents in their langots had handled me roughly and delicately by turns. I could see that they were extremely horny. But for some reason, they weren't whipping their cocks out to have their way with me. The old man was just giving mundane instructions like "dry the underside of her breasts". And Birju, who usually seemed to take great pleasure in sharing me in humiliating situations, wasn't egging them on either.


"What are you two gawking at???" Guruji yelled.

His remark wasn't aimed at the two guys drying my body but behind him at the other two wrestlers who were peeking at me.

"Haven't you ever seen a naked woman before?" he continued.

"No..." one of the other lunks said in a deep voice.

"Well, too bad. Go back to practice! In fact I want you two to start bouting. I will come and check your progress." he barked and the two big brutes scampered away.

The two guys attending to me had meanwhile finished their jobs. I was breathing heavily, feeling randy beyond belief. I had made a few more attempts to reach for their dicks, but had been slapped away at every turn. What the hell was going on? Why wasn't I being bent over and fucked like I expected to? Like I wanted to?

"Ok, you two also go and start bouting." Guruji sternly told my attendants.

They each threw a long look at my heaving tits and my glistening pussy and trudged away. I looked at Birju, who caught my eye but then looked away. I stood there naked, assuming that now I would be ridden. Instead, the old man barked at me,

"You really are a shameless harlot, aren't you? Standing in front of two men naked without a sense of shame or shyness. Don't you know that shyness is a woman's ornament?"

"Well, what the hell am I supposed to do? My clothes are filthy!" I angrily snapped back.

"Don't take that tone with me!!" he wagged a finger and forcefully said.

"Sorry." I found myself suddenly compelled to apologize. He had a forceful personality and as we know by now, I have a thing with authoritative old men.

"But you are right. Your clothes are filthy. So wash them quickly. Leave them here to dry. And then...." he slipped off his white kurta and threw it at me. "Wear this and come to the cot."

I caught the thin cotton garment. Before I could say anything, he turned around and walked away. I tried calling out to Birju, but he also followed the old man like an obedient puppy.

Standing alone naked in that corner of the akhada, I wondered if I was having a surreal dream. Here I was, a high class, educated, accomplished woman standing without a stitch on her body in this utterly foreign and rustic location. An old man I had just met was barking orders at me and heaping insults on me like I was his servant. And I felt obliged to play along. Which by itself wasn't an unfamiliar thing anymore, thanks to Bajwa and Jamal. But this time, there had been no sex involved. And now I was looking at my skimpy western clothes to figure out how to clean them.

I rinsed the mud off the leather skirt and then wiped it dry with the towel so it would not get warped. I dunked the tube top in a bucket of water to wash it clean. And then I kept the two things on the edge of a short wall to dry. As much as they could dry in that humid rainy environment. Then I slipped on the kurta. It reached barely an inch below my crotch. But considering that all the men had seen me naked at length, I didn't really feel conscious about it.

When I walked back to the main area, I saw the two pairs of wrestlers bouting in the red mud circle. Their sweaty oily bodies glistened even with the red mud on them. They were making a lot of loud grunting sounds as they sincerely tried to best each other in the oldest sport in the world. Second oldest if you count sex. I stood at the edge of the circle, watching their muscles flex and their manly bodies mingle.

"Stop staring at them like that like a slut." Guruji said to me. "Come here and sit in my lap."

What an odd guy, I thought. In the same breath, he had called me a slut and then asked me to sit on his lap. I found myself simultaneously annoyed and aroused. I walked over to him, walking past Birju who just gave me half a smile and shrugged. Guruji was sitting on the cot with his legs parted, his hairy wrinkly torso bare, now that he had given me his kurta. Even as I walked towards him, he kept looking at the wrestling men and barking instructions to them.

I approached him and perched my big round ass on his left thigh. As I sat, the kurta pulled up from the back and my naked butt made contact with his pyjama. I giggled. He said nothing. I felt the old man's left hand wrap itself around my waist and hold me in place. I could feel the heat from his body radiating towards me. And I felt his erection poking against my thigh. I knew what that meant. I reached over with my hand.

"What the hell are you doing?" he barked.

"What?" I innocently asked.

"Why are you rubbing my genitals over my pyjama, young lady?" he scolded me.

"I...thought....it was...I mean..." I was so confused. I took my hand away. I had assumed that once he asked me to sit on his lap, I was expected to pleasure him. And now he was yelling at me for doing so.

"Shut up!" he yelled almost into my ear. "Just sit quietly."

"Okay, okay."

For the next ten minutes or so, I sat in the old man's lap as his erect cock kept poking at my thigh through his clothes. His firm grip on my waist stayed the way it was, but he did nothing more. I kept thinking he would make his move sooner or later, but he didn't. I started getting bored. I tried looking at Birju but he was pointedly avoiding eye contact. So I started watching the wrestlers. And I noticed that even in their bouts, they were looking at me. At one point, I realized that they could see up my legs and at my naked pussy. So I parted my legs a bit to give them a better view.

"You are just a shameless trollop, aren't you?" Guruji noticed what I was doing and thundered.

"I didn't do anything, Guruji." I said earnestly.

"Shut up! I am not your guruji." he yelled. "Get up!"

Instantly I got off his lap.

"Give me my kurta back."

"What?"

"You heard me!"

I discarded the garment and handed it back to him.

"I know the problem with you high class city types. Lack of discipline. If your parents had punished you properly, you would not have become a characterless whore."

"Don't bring my parents into it!" I yelled back at him. There was a limit to how much insult I could take.

"Don't talk back to me, young lady!" he yelled even louder.

We stared at each other angrily.

"You need to be punished for your insolence." he finally said.

"Oh, what are you going to do?" I turned around and thrust my ass at him. "Spank my ass? Bugger me? Is that what you want, you dirty old man?"

Turns out the weird old man really was a weird old man. He did not want to lay a hand on me. Soon I found myself holding my ears and doing squats. Naked. The wrestlers kept staring as my huge naked tits swayed and slammed against my knees with every squat. And how my pussy seemed to open and close.

What is this bizarre new mess I have gotten myself into, I wondered. Why am I, a sophisticated urbane woman in her 30s, doing naked squats at the behest of some random geriatric?