Adultery UNFAITHFUL MOTHERS AND HOUSEWIVES --- stranger_women

[ddey333]

I reached for my cellphone and was about dial my home number when I saw the scene on the screen change. My wife had stopped struggling and now had her hands around his back. She was no longer being forced into the kiss, but was a willing, even enthusiastic participant. I watched, undeniably angry as well as turned on, as the kiss continued. The fire of fury in my head was matched only by stirring in my loins. What was wrong with me, I wondered. I was watching a man kiss my wife, and I was feeling turned on? I finally sorted out of my feelings and was about to dial the home number, when I saw Ketaki finally break the kiss and push him away. This time, he let go.

"Damn it, Fahim!" she said, sounding angry. "Why did you have to do that?"

Fahim laughed in response, and then said,

"Just as I thought. It's the same story as with those college boyfriends of yours. When I had to come to Delhi every few months to satisfy you on the side."

"No, this is different!" Ketaki almost screamed. "Samir is the best, He is perfect. He is not like those idiots."

"Isn't he? Then why did you..."

"Just get out, Fahim. Get out at once." this time Ketaki did scream.

"Alright, alright. Calm down. I'm going." Fahim said and started walking away.

Ketaki plonked herself on the couch, put her face in her hands, and started crying. I heard the door click shut as Fahim left. As I watched my wife cry her heart out, I was overcome with a sense of guilt. I was responsible for this. I had orchestrated this whole situation, even when she had specifically told me she didn't want to meet him. So what if she gave in to desire and kissed him? If I met again the girls I had a crush on in high college, and got an opportunity to, who is to say I wouldn't have done the same? Overcome with guilt, I decided to call up Ketaki. Console her. Maybe even apologize. But how could I do that without giving away the fact that I had set up this whole situation to spy on her? Maybe she'd tell me herself. Would she?

My train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing again. Ketaki quickly wiped her face with her sleeve and said,

"Who is it?"

There was no answer.

"Who is it?" she repeated.

Still no answer. She clucked her tongue, got up and went towards the door. I heard the door open. A few seconds later, I heard the door close.

I could hear some muffled noises for a while. A good minute or so, there was no one on the screen. And then I was Fahim walk into view triumphantly, carrying my wife in his arms. And the two of them were kissing. He walked past screen, when I heard Ketaki's voice say off-camera.

"No no, don't." the relief of hearing my wife refuse his advances lasted only half a second, because then she said, "The couch. Take me to the couch."

Fahim came into view again, and he gradually lowered her down on to the couch. My wife propped herself up by the elbows as she lay on the couch, watching Fahim as he stood straight. He unbuttoned his shirt, took it off, and threw it on the floor. He then took off his wife beater and threw it on the floor as well, revealing a hairy muscular chest. I felt a pang of jealousy as my wife let out a moan of delight at the sight of his chest. I was not unfit by any means. I exercised regularly. But I was no match for Fahim's body.

Bare chested, he got on his knees next to the couch and started kissing my wife again. She kissed back hungrily. Fahim's wall-like back then blocked my wife's torso from the view. all i could see were were skirt covered legs stretched out on the couch, and her toes curling and uncurling alternately. There was absolutely no resistance to the proceedings from Ketaki's side. In fact, quite the opposite.