Misc. Erotica Shwetha - My Sweet and Sour Wife

[novelistcasanova]

As we were picked up by our 5 Star Hotel Cab, the cab driver was openly ogling at my wife who was in her tight t-shirt and jeggings, at the same time welcoming us with a fake smile.  As we got inside the cab, she was telling me about how friendly the people of India were, and she was loving the feel of being in India.  “Dumb bitch, they were not friendly, they were ogling at you,” I said to myself.  That night we partied at a nearby Pub, and my wife got too drunk, and the same Cab driver who picked us up at the Airport had come to drop us at the pub and was waiting outside to pick us up.  Out of excitement my wife drank too much, and was finding it hard to walk.  Putting her left arm around my shoulder and grabbing her waist for support I started helping her walk outside the pub, “Gopi, am I too drunk?” my wife asked with her slurred speech and an unsteady gait.  “Shwetha, it's the Indian alcohol that has got you too drunk, let's go back to our Hotel now,” I said, and was helping her walk.  As we reached the exit of the pub, we had to get down the narrow stairs to go to the ground floor where the Driver was waiting for us.  “Gopi, don’t blame the Indian alcohol, you know I love everything Indian,” as my wife was talking in slurry speech, the Driver who was at the ground floor saw me helping my wife walk and started coming towards us for help.  Since he was a middle aged guy, he was feeling a bit difficult to climb the stairs to reach us.  “Oh my god, I left my handbag,” my wife exclaimed.  Right next to the place where we were standing was a window and through that window I could see my wife’s handbag at the table where we were sitting.  “Come sir, let’s go,” the Driver said, trying to help me hold my wife.