Misc. Erotica Swati's Downfall (Original Story)

[S Darko]

When they’re almost home, Ashok awakes. 


They discuss their plans for the week ahead, and Swati wonders again how they have avoided talking about the events of the last couple of days at all. It isn’t as though they hadn’t been involved in an impromptu orgy in the kitchen just the previous day. She has no idea how many women Ashok has fucked in the last forty-eight hours, although the upper limit had to be eight. She figures they will talk about it later, perhaps in bed. 

It isn’t that they haven’t talked about it at all. There have been snide and sly mentions of the last couple of days. Ashok saying, “That was something, wasn’t it?” And she replying, “Yeah, wasn’t it?”

Ashok saying something about Menaka’s boobs, or perhaps it was Sudha’s. How Abhi had probably spiked the drinks with ecstasy and possibly Viagra or perhaps something even more potent—“I lost out after ten orgasms!”—Something about Baldev’s staying capacity. The way he had stacked the women in the kitchen, fucking now one pussy, now the other, then the assholes in turn, while he, Ashok, had himself had been sodomizing the hostess on the kitchen island and Abhi had maneuvered himself into Sudha's mouth. 

“That scene will stay with me for a long time,” he says. 

Swati adjusts herself in her seat, wishing she were home. All the friction the car ride is generating is just adding to that edge. She isn’t sure how long she can go without getting her itch scratched. Perhaps as soon as they get home, she will attack Ashok. Hopefully he isn’t too fucked out, and there is still some Viagra left in his system. If not, well, there are toys. She watches as Ashok adjusts his crotch in the passenger seat. Hmm. Maybe he too is thinking similar thoughts. 

“So…that’s the lifestyle, huh?”

“It would seem so,” says Ashok. For him, too, this has been a first.

After a moment of silence, Ashok turns on the radio, tuned to an easy listening jazz station. The volume is turned low, so they can still speak with a background of music. 

“Babe,” he says. “The last few days were fun, but you think we should do it again?”

“Visit Abhi and Menaka again, or do this…swinging?” Swati keeps her eyes on the road. 

“Well…either. Or. Not sure. It could be both ways. We could go back to Abhi’s or find closer, um, playmates. What do you think?”

Swati knows about Ashok’s extracurricular activities, especially about the woman in Singapore or wherever. Perhaps this is a way for him to legitimize fucking other women. Perhaps a way to share his penchant for extramarital affairs as a joint hobby, little knowing what his own wife has been up to in the last several months. Kind of like a couple who is drifting apart, suddenly finding a shared middle ground. 

Before she can say anything, Ashok’s phone rings.

She can hear only half the conversation, something about oxygen, ventilators and the ICU, so Ashok switches it to speaker.

“Beta,” his mother is saying, “It’s been twenty-four hours and the doctors are still not sure.”

Evidently something has happened, probably to her father-in-law.

“Bauji?” She whispers.

Ashok nods, still on the phone. Her father-in-law, a businessman, had just returned from an overseas trip. Where had it been? Vietnam? China? Someplace like that.

“I’ll come over in a few hours. I was at a friend’s house, and the phone was on silent so I didn’t notice, but I’m almost home. I’ll drop Swati and come right over.”

He gets the address of the hospital and hangs up.

“Damn. I have to go see what’s happening.”

Swati has already understood the gist of the conversation. Ashok’s father is sick and in hospital. The details can wait. 

“Isn’t your brother there?”

“Yeah, but you know Arvind. Unreliable as usual.”

Arvind, Ashok’s younger brother by ten years, is flighty, unmarried and forever chasing pussy. In fact, even in the early days of their marriage, he had made a pass at her in classic Indian porn fashion. Ashok wasn’t home, and she had just stepped out of the bathroom in only a towel. He’s entered the room, pretending that he had come in accidentally. Swati wasn’t sure what he expected. Perhaps that she would drop the towel and let him play with her body? 

She’d screamed at him and kicked him out of the room in no uncertain terms. But, she muses, today, things might be different. He had a hard, chiseled body. Who knew? But now, her main emotion was irritation at the boy when she had a whole week planned with Ashok.

“So where the fuck is he?”

“No one knows. Been gone somewhere with friends for the last couple of days. Phone is switched off.”

“Fuck.”

They reach home in silence. Dhruv is still with her parents and will likely remain there until this business with Ashok’s dad is settled. One way or the other. Either will likely take more than a week. 

Fuck! Swati screams in her mind.