Misc. Erotica Priyanka's Cuckold

[samcuck2]

Part 4

Samarth went to gym at the health club the next afternoon. Afterward, in the shower, he watched men enter and exit. He felt embarrassed by his small and thin manhood, but he had to shower after working up a sweat in gym. Several of the other men were not much bigger—maybe thicker. Then one who was huge dick in next to him. This set his mind in shock. What a monster cock!

Priyanka would be wild for such a tool. Another guy walked by as Samarth finally changed to leave the club. He, too, was well endowed and thick. Again Samarth could think of only one thing—his sexy, fit wife who craved more. This weekend would be the true test.

* * * *

At home that evening the couple watched a movie together. Priyanka cuddled with her man. She was horny, and Samarth knew what would follow. She rarely sucked his cock, but before he knew it; she was sliding his shorts down and giving him a killer blowjob. She was so lovely. First she pulled her tank top off to reveal her braless and perky 34Cs, brown hardened nipples. She was quickly out of her thong, showing a small landing strip of black hair. Wet, excited and ready, she jumped onto Samarth’ lap, and in one drop took him full.

This was too easy. She tried to ride his small cock, yet it wasn’t enough. She climbed off him, frustrated. “Do me like this,” she insisted, turning around and bending over the coffee table. Her smooth, round ass pushed her husband onward. He grabbed his

hard cock and plunged into her with one push. He would fuck her as hard as he could. She played underneath with her pussy, aching to orgasm.

He grabbed her hair and shoved hard and harder. She kept up her own efforts, taking everything he had. All in vain. “Damn it, I can’t get off!” Priyanka cried out. She pulled away, lying on the floor, urging him to join her. He slid on top of her and kissed her deeply, enjoying the sweet taste of her mouth.

She begged for more. “Make love to me, Sam, make me a woman!” He tried hard. Really hard. There wasn’t much friction. He hardly felt her swelled yet widened walls. He could not hold off any longer. She cried out again, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop, keep fucking me, yes, don’t ever stop!” He pulled out and came, on her flat tummy.

“Nooooooo,” she moaned. “I want more. I need more.” She played with her swollen clit. She kept pushing and teasing it ... Finally she exploded with, “Oh yeah, I’m going to come, yes, yes, here it is, oh baby, oh baby, yes, yes, yes!!” She relaxed on her back and collapsed on the floor. Samarth thought of the shower incident earlier. Things could have been so different. He was still turned on, but his penis as limp as can be.

* * * *

On Friday evening Priyanka chose what to wear for the party the next night with special care. Samarth loved every minute of the fashion show. He had not realized how turned on he’d be by seeing his sexy wife pick out and model outfits for others to see her in. This ‘see her in’ factor excited him most. He imagined the men stripping his beloved wife with their eyes, sizing her up for sexual relations. Wow, he thought, Wow! Her firm body was smoking. And soon others would perhaps be touching it. He felt a hardon. He was nervous about the swinger party, yet seeing Priyanka in all these sexy dresses and panties and bra combos was bringing him to unchartered heights. He loved the idea that he would not be the one to perform. He would be just an onlooker—or so he hoped.

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She settled on a brown, low-cut, slit cocktail dress. She was a total bomb, she decided to go without bra and panty. Not many twenty-something-year-olds could pull that off. 

Saturday could not come soon enough. Samarth was too hot not to do something. He whisked his wife to the bed and dive between her legs. She tussled with him, but he held his ground. “I don’t want you to do nothin’, hun. Just relax and enjoy my tongue.” Knowing there would be no pressure on his little dick this evening made Samarth eat her more vigorously than ever. He licked and kissed her cunt, flicked her clit with love. She loved it. “Oh Samarth, this feels so good,” she could not help but cry out, in between moans of passion.

However, what she really wanted was a cock, a cock that might fill her hole, her ever-so-needy hole. Even at twice its size, Samarth’s cock could never meet her needs. She was close now. He had to keep going. A wonderful orgasm would result from his nifty work. She could not hold back. “Oh yeah, baby, don’t stop, I’m going to do it, I’m coming ... oh yes, please don’t stop, yes, oh yes, ohhhhhhh!” Seeing his wife in various states of undress, Samarth had made it his mission to see her explode. He could say, ‘mission accomplished’!

As Priyanka was cleaning up, she announced, “I need more clothes, Sam. I need to buy new panties and bras.” She stood naked in front of her husband, demanding his attention. “We need to go shopping together.” Samarth could only nod his head at this long list of her ‘needs.’

* * * *

The big day had arrived, and both Samarth and Priyanka were on edge. The party was in a some private farmhouse near Pune. The two-hour drive to the party seemed to last twice that long, stretched out by the tension in the air. Samarth was worried that he would be put on the spot. He didn’t want to perform. He felt inferior to most males because of his small size, difficulty lasting and problems keeping an erection. Priyanka seemed calm enough, though she was noticeably not herself. There was none of the usual happy chatter that always made their time together pass quickly, and her bright-eyed smile was noticeably absent. He knew she never would have come up with the idea of a swinger party on her own.

The gathering was at a big 4 star lodge with art deco fixtures, an oversized hearth and black leather couches in the lobby. The couple stood in line for check-in. With growing excitement, Samarth noticed other couples and single guys milling about. He wondered if they, too, were there for the party. He was proud to see them look their way, their eyes sweeping over Priyanka.

They had time to spare and, after checking in, decided to get a bite to eat. The lodge had a restaurant that would do the trick. Samarth and Priyanka spoke little. They were both more preoccupied with watching people than eating. They continued to speculate over who would be going to the so-called swingers’ ball later on. What about the men sitting at the bar? They looked presentable enough, but who knew what they really had to offer under their well-cut suits?

Priyanka was convinced that she was no swinger. She was doing this for her man. However, deep within, she felt something stirring. Since this was obviously a one-time thing, she might as well make the best of it.

The time had come. Samarth and Priyanka started to walk towards hall. A table was set out in front of the double doors, where two women were passing out nametags and taking money. The large banquet hall, with its elegant black and white décor, would have worked for the retirement party of a wealthy executive—nothing at all to indicate the nature of the event. A warm buffet was served on one end, not far from a circular dance floor.

It was well decorated, and clusters of black and white helium balloons attached to simple square weights formed the centerpieces of the round tables covered with white tablecloths. A DJ spun music at a booth in the corner, while an already impressive number of guests—enough to make moving about difficult—mingled. The pair made their way quickly to one of the few open tables.

In a matter of moments three people joined them. The one they noticed first was the woman—a beauty whose sleek, black hair fell halfway down her back. Her black sleevless blouse barely covered her back, and in front, blouse showed enticing display of cleavage.

Her husband, in contrast, was the type who was easily overlooked—about as colorless as the room but nowhere near as classy. He wore all-black—black slacks and a button down shirt—and his gray-flecked black hair was thinning on the top. He was about the same height as his wife, she was wearing three-inch heels. He greeted them with a simple handshake and a mumbled greeting.

The third person was a dashing black man—muscular and around 6ft3. He had a shaven head and a square jaw and greeted them with a smooth “Hello.” 

Despite the crowded room, many more people joined the gathering. Most were couples like Priyanka and Samarth, but a few single men roamed about as well. Priyanka locked eyes with Usman, and Samarth noticed how her eyes were continually drawn to him. “Priyanka, do you see something you like?”

She blushed, tearing her eyes away from the black gentlemen at their table. Then she smiled and grabbed her Samarth by the hand. “Let’s dance, darling.” After a few songs the pair returned to the table and chatted with the others. They learned that the couple were married and their “friend” was just that—a friend. The woman’s name was Sakshi and her husband’s, Shivam.

“Usman is my boyfriend, he is from Nigeria” Sakshi said. “Her bull, actually,” said Usman.

Samarth was at a loss for words. “Her b-bull?” he stammered. “Kind of new to this, aren’t you?” Shivam said.

Samarth nodded. “You don’t mind being called a bull?” 

He said.“Why would I mind? I’m proud of it.” Usman glanced briefly at Priyanka. “He’s her play toy,” Shivam said, which seemed even more demeaning to Samarth, although Usman didn’t seem to mind.

Another couple came to the table, putting an end to this particular subject. The new couple was friends with Sakshi and Shivam and they steered the conversation away from sex to ordinary topics—house renovations and vacations—that excluded Samarth and Priyanka.

Priyanka and Samarth left to help themselves at the buffet. “He’s so hot,” Priyanka gushed. Samarth laughed. “Who are you talking about?”

“As if you didn’t know,” Priyanka said with a giggle.

Just then the DJ made an announcement. “The karaoke content is about to begin,” he said. “I’d like to welcome all the sexy ladies who think they can sing as good as they look out on the dance floor.”

Samarth pushed his wife ahead of him and started to back away. “You have to do it, hun; you’re a natural.”

Several of the wives and ladies at the party of nearly two hundred joined the contest. The music began to play various popular easy-to-mimic songs. The DJ handed the mic to the first woman to accept his challenge and, even though she could barely carry a tune, she and everyone appeared to be enjoying themselves. At first Priyanka tried to rejoin Samarth, but he kept urging her on. Eventually she shrugged and fell into line.

Standing alone, Samarth was admiring his wife and eagerly awaiting her turn when, out of nowhere, a man introduced himself. “Hey there, I’m Prashant,” he said.

Samarth reached out to shake his hand. He was a solid fellow who might have once been a gym guy but obviously didn’t hit the gym quite as often as in the past. He look in the lineup of wives then looked back at Samarth. “My wife is out there,” he said. He pointed to a sexy woman. “She’s right there. Her name’s Muskan.”

Samarth liked her longish hair and the way her royal blue skirt hugged her curves. “She very pretty,” Samarth replied.

  But Prashant had his eye on Priyanka. “That your lady? She’s quite the babe.” Samarth smiled. 

"Let’s see how well the girls perform,” he said.

“Here, let me buy you a drink,” Prashant said. When he returned from the bar, he said, “I have to admit, of all the wives and singles at this party, our wives are the hottest.”

“You’re telling me,” Samarth said.

“What’s her name, by the way?”

 “Priyanka,” Samarth said with a smile.

 We both sipped our beer

Priyanka and Muskan sang well enough, but mostly they stood out because of their looks and charm. Prashant is right, Samarth thought, most of the people here are overweight or not that great looking. They certainly aren’t in Muskan or Priyanka’s league. Though Sakshi—the woman at their table—came close. The four of them chatted after the singing ended, comfortable, despite the newness of the friendship. The couples danced next to each other, exchanging glances and smiles, so that it seemed perfectly natural to change partners during one of the slow songs. The mood was lighthearted, and no one acted possessive or insecure. The girls got along well—no hint of rivalry or jealousy.

Later Prashant insisted they join them in their suite. The night was getting old and there really was no one else to interest Samarth or Priyanka. Samarth dragged his hand across his mouth, “I’ll have to see if my wife is up for it,” he said. “Give us a minute.”

The couple convened in the corner. “What do you think, Priyanka?” Samarth said. “They seem cool. I mean, there’s really nobody else we can party with, right?”

Priyanka, still dancing in place, was only giving him half her attention. In her hot dress and high-heeled sandals, she reminded him of someone else. “I can think of someone else,” she said. Samarth followed her gaze to where Usman stood, talking to another couple.

“Oh really, who would that be?” he said. Priyanka licked her lips and pointed at Usman. Samarth didn’t know how to react. What was his wife implying? Did she want to get with that tall, handsome black guy? She had to be kidding. He felt sickly, jealous.

“Go over there, honey,” she urged, “and ask him if he wants to party with us. Tell him we can have a private party in our suite.” Samarth stopped. “I’m not sure what you mean, Priyanka.”

“Come on, Sam,” she whined, “I want to have fun, to get crazy.” She flung her blonde hair from her face and moved even more provocatively to the music—as though putting on a private show. She’s drunk a few too many, that’s for sure, thought Samarth.

“Go Sam,” she teased. “Go ask him.”