Adultery Plight of an Indian Housewife by 7inchjunior

[Ramesh_Rocky]

At the same time, his hands roamed down to my stomach and then to my waistline. He inserted two fingers into my petticoat and undid the knot holding it onto my waist. As he released the knot, my sari and petticoat dropped in a heap to the ground. He then asked me to lie down on the grass. I was feeling really cold on the wet grass. He saw my shivering body and said- "You need my heat".


Then he positioned between my spread legs. He simply pulled the panty away from my cunt lips and dug his cock into my body.


This was the first time; I had another penis inside me; other than my husband's. This made me really sad and I started to weep. This almost seemed to excite him, as his pumping increased speed. He let out a loud grunt as his semen released into my cunt. I did not experience any climax.

As I lay on the grass exhausted, he dressed up and said-

"How was it babe? Want to meet again sometime?"

I stared back at him blankly. This angered him. He called me a whore and left in a hurry. I looked at my watch. As it was dark, I could not make out the exact time. But it was somewhere around 7:30 p.m. I got up and adjusted my panty. It was thoroughly wet with my and his juices. Then I tucked my breasts back into the bra. I looked around to make sure that no one was around. Then I got into my petticoat and dbangd my sari. But all except one hook of the blouse were broken. So I carefully adjusted the sari covering up carefully.

I walked the distance to my house in 15 minutes. As expected the building was busting with activity as every evening. I walked up the stairs to the third floor apartment, keeping a really straight face and even greeting anyone I met. As soon as I closed the house door I dropped on the couch and started crying, digging my face into the pillow.

"What am I going to do now? What if the person from the bus finds me? What if the TC blackmails me? Should I talk to my husband about this? He won't trust me anymore. What if my daughter comes to know about it? She will think I'm a slut."

These were the thoughts in my mind as I walked up to my bedroom and entered the bathroom. I removed my clothes and stood under the hot shower. I kept crying as I rubbed my body vigorously with soap, cleaning every part of my body touched by various men. And then I washed my panty vigorously even as the tears kept rolling down my cheeks. After I turned off the shower, I looked at myself in the mirror and composed myself. Then I wiped myself with the towel and came out to the bedroom with the towel wrapped around my body.

The good part about our bedroom is it has long sliding windows on two sides, one overlooking the garden behind our building and the other facing the bedroom of our neighbors. This gives a feeling of openness to the room. Also we have tinted glass put up on all the windows, ensuring our privacy. I walked up to my cupboard and took out my clothes and threw them on the bed. As I was about to remove my towel, I saw a figure sitting at the opposite window. I recognized it to be Mr. Patel, our 65-year-old neighbor. He could, may be see the outline of my body even through the tinted glass as the lights were on. So I reached out for the switchboard and switched off the light. This came as no surprise to me. I had seen him staring at our window many times before. In the darkness, I threw my towel on the bed and wore my clothes, thinking of how many times I had told my husband about the bastard. But my husband never believed how such a respected resident could do such a thing.

Mr. Patel was a retired security officer officer and now worked as a social worker, especially fighting for women's rights. He lived in the house alone after his wife died and daughter got married. I too knew that nobody would believe me if I said that he was a voyeur and a peeping tom. I had no option but to ignore him. I wore a simple white cotton panty (I wore the bikini panties outside only on my husband's insistence, though I felt really comfortable in these). Over it I wore a white loose slip with thin shoulder straps and came up to my upper thighs (I never wore bras at home). And finally wore a long white housecoat tying up the waistband.