30-12-2018, 01:08 PM
Testing Indian Wife's Limits Ch. 02
Shama and I had met a decade ago at grad school. We were in different departments, but had a few friends in common, and soon were part of a group of Indian grad students who hung out together. I developed a crush on her pretty much instantly. She was intelligent, gorgeous, and just a genuinely nice person. She was also from the same community and caste as me, which is always important in the Indian mindset.
After one grad party, slightly drunk and quite stoned, I finally expressed my interest to her. She blushed and said she liked me too. And just like that, I had a girlfriend. We juggled the demanding grad school programs as well as our relationship quite well. Even though we were in our mid-20s, we were both inexperienced in the matters of romance. In my case, it wasn't from lack of trying. I had several crushes in high school and college in India, and had expressed my feelings to most of them. And I had always been turned down with the "I think of you as a friend" line.
Shama had been single because she grew up in a very orthodox and controlling middle class family that kept a watchful eye on their pretty young daughter. Although guys had hit on her all the time, she had always refused their advances, because her dad told her to focus on studies and her career. Now that she was in grad school and her mid-20s, apparently her parents had lifted the dating embargo, on the condition that she find a "nice boy from our caste, from a good family, and good career prospects". Fortunately, I checked all the boxes.
Our lives followed a predictably happy and prosperous path. Our relationship went well, and we told our families about each other. Of course, we pretended to our families that we were ultra chaste and did nothing more than hold hands. But us two virgins had started exploring the world of sexual delights together, tentatively. We were both shy and quiet by nature, so it took a few years before we really "got" sex.
Grad school ended and we both got jobs in Atlanta. Although officially we lived in different apartments with roommates, practically speaking, Shama was living with me. Tongues must have started wagging in our orthodox community back home, because a year later, both sets of parents made a coordinated demand that we get married. That was our plan anyway, so we flew back to India, had the 5 day wedding, and settled into married life with dual careers.
A couple of years went by and the parents started demanding a grandchild. Again, something we were thinking about anyway. After our apartment lease downtown ended, we bought a house in the suburbs on mortgage. Three levels, backyard, front yard, picket fences and everything. And started "trying". Didn't have to try too hard. Within a month, Shama was pregnant. Nine months later, Abhi was born, surrounded by loving grandparents who had flown in from India for the occasion.
Sounds like a mundane and predictable life, right?
Because it kinda was. It was happy of course. We both had good careers, good incomes, green cards, a great son, and pretty everything that an Indian immigrant couple in the US in their mid-30s could ask for. But it was still mundane and predictable. It was about working long hours, daycare and nannies, hanging out with other parents, shopping for groceries every weekend, watching the latest movies, traveling to fun locations on long weekends, and giving our son the best upbringing we could.
Our life was like a cruising airplane on autopilot. It was moving smoothly without any real effort, and we were sitting back in our seats sipping tomato juice and watching in-flight entertainment or napping.
That video of Shama being seen naked and propositioned by the resort employee acted like a jolt of turbulence.
I must have watched that video a hundred times in the next few weeks whenever I got a moment alone. And every time, I got hard and jacked off. My gorgeous wife, walking out naked in front of a stranger. The stranger complimenting her and hitting on her, flashing his dick at her. The pauses she took and the looks on her face before shooting him down. How she masturbated like crazy after he left. And how randy she had been with me afterwards.
The randiness carried over for a few days even after we returned to Atlanta. But the daily grind soon took over, and we were back in our old routines. In Shama's case, it meant that the brief flash of sexual aggression she had shown in Jamaica totally disappeared. Sex was back to once a week, if that, usually in a hurry because we had to wake up early.
I missed Jamaica Shama. Clearly, the experience had impacted her. It had boosted her sex drive. Maybe she had a streak of exhibitionism in her. And that accidental encounter had brought it out. Would she explore it further if given the opportunity? She had still not told me about it. And I had not told her about the videotape. If I had let matters lie, it would have been just a blip of turbulence.
But obviously, I did not, or you wouldn't be reading this.
As the weeks went on and the old rut set back in, I started thinking about ways to make something happen. And testing Shama's limits.
The first attempt was when we were driving to a friend's place for a party. We had gotten a babysitter for Abhi, so it was just the two of us. As I drove, Shama was looking at her phone. She was wearing an elegant evening dress with a low neckline and looking like a billion bucks.
"Mmmm...that cleavage is distracting me. I feel like pulling over and putting my face between your tits." I said.
"Hehe, you're such a cornball." she giggled and blushed.
"Flash me those big beautiful tits of yours."
"Now? Here?" she said, raising her eyebrows and wearing a smile that suggested she wasn't entirely opposed to it.
"Why not?"
"Hehe, ok."
We were going at 70 miles an hour, but she still carefully looked around as if to make sure no one was watching. Then she reached into her dress and pulled our her right boob, shook it at me, giggled, and then put it back in right away.
"Hey, I barely got a look."
"Fine!" she smiled and took it out again for a few seconds before putting it back in.
"How about both of them?"
"It's a tight dress. Won't be easy to flash both together." she said.
"Well, you can just roll it down to your waist. Sit here topless for me." I took a chance.
"Don't be crazy!" she just laughed and shook her head.
"Come on, we are zooming along on the highway in the dark. It's still fifteen miles before the exit. Just get topless."
"No way. What if someone driving past us sees me?"
"Doesn't that...turn you on? Some random stranger seeing your tits?" I sent a feeler.
She paused for half a second and looked at me. I was feeling optimistic when suddenly she frowned.
"Ewww no! What's wrong with you?"
"Relax. I was just kidding." I said.
"Crazy idea. Crazy. What's wrong with you?" she sounded angry.
"I'm sorry. Really, I 'm sorry."
She sat scowling for the rest of the drive. I dropped it. Her mood improved at the party. Things were back to normal.
I was thinking about how Shama, usually a very quiet and chill person, had gotten so upset at my suggestion of getting topless. Me did think she doth protested too much. It seemed like the forceful reply was as much to her own urges as it was to me. It was all on tape. Being seen by that guy, seeing his erect dick, being propositioned by her had clearly turned her on. She sent him packing, but then fingered herself like crazy and then was in heat for the rest of the day. Obviously, the idea of exhibitionism wasn't as scandalous to her as she had made it seem.
But I didn't want to rock the boat too much. So I didn't push it. A few more weeks went by. And then came my second attempt.
It was a pleasant clear night and we were on the swing in our backyard having wine and talking. It was well past midnight and Abhi was fast asleep. Both of us were a little tipsy and we were exchanging work-related rants. Shama looked so cute and hot even in a simple t-shirt and shorts that I couldn't help myself.
"And then Sarah said we should...hey...hehehe..."
She stopped mid-sentence and giggled as I pulled her towards me and slipped a hand up her t-shirt.
"You're gorgeous." I said, kissing her.
"Mmm...you wanna go inside?" she asked as I unhooked her bra.
I ignored her question and kept kissing and pawing her. And then slowly I started raising her shirt.
I felt her freeze as her tits were exposed. And then she went back to kissing me. We made out for a couple of more minutes in our backyard swing with her tits hanging out g her shirt. And then I decided to go for the kill. I leaned back and in one swift motion, took off her t-shirt and bra, leaving her topless. I threw the clothes on the grass behind the swing.
"Parth!!" she whispered angrily and put her hands on her magnificent tits.
"You look so..."
"However I look, the neighbors can also look!" she said, pushing me away.
"Relax, it's late. It's dark. No one is around."
Shama sat there, still topless, staring at me for a couple of seconds. Her tits heaved so seductively. For a few moments, it seemed like she was also seeing the appeal in being topless outdoors.
Shama and I had met a decade ago at grad school. We were in different departments, but had a few friends in common, and soon were part of a group of Indian grad students who hung out together. I developed a crush on her pretty much instantly. She was intelligent, gorgeous, and just a genuinely nice person. She was also from the same community and caste as me, which is always important in the Indian mindset.
After one grad party, slightly drunk and quite stoned, I finally expressed my interest to her. She blushed and said she liked me too. And just like that, I had a girlfriend. We juggled the demanding grad school programs as well as our relationship quite well. Even though we were in our mid-20s, we were both inexperienced in the matters of romance. In my case, it wasn't from lack of trying. I had several crushes in high school and college in India, and had expressed my feelings to most of them. And I had always been turned down with the "I think of you as a friend" line.
Shama had been single because she grew up in a very orthodox and controlling middle class family that kept a watchful eye on their pretty young daughter. Although guys had hit on her all the time, she had always refused their advances, because her dad told her to focus on studies and her career. Now that she was in grad school and her mid-20s, apparently her parents had lifted the dating embargo, on the condition that she find a "nice boy from our caste, from a good family, and good career prospects". Fortunately, I checked all the boxes.
Our lives followed a predictably happy and prosperous path. Our relationship went well, and we told our families about each other. Of course, we pretended to our families that we were ultra chaste and did nothing more than hold hands. But us two virgins had started exploring the world of sexual delights together, tentatively. We were both shy and quiet by nature, so it took a few years before we really "got" sex.
Grad school ended and we both got jobs in Atlanta. Although officially we lived in different apartments with roommates, practically speaking, Shama was living with me. Tongues must have started wagging in our orthodox community back home, because a year later, both sets of parents made a coordinated demand that we get married. That was our plan anyway, so we flew back to India, had the 5 day wedding, and settled into married life with dual careers.
A couple of years went by and the parents started demanding a grandchild. Again, something we were thinking about anyway. After our apartment lease downtown ended, we bought a house in the suburbs on mortgage. Three levels, backyard, front yard, picket fences and everything. And started "trying". Didn't have to try too hard. Within a month, Shama was pregnant. Nine months later, Abhi was born, surrounded by loving grandparents who had flown in from India for the occasion.
Sounds like a mundane and predictable life, right?
Because it kinda was. It was happy of course. We both had good careers, good incomes, green cards, a great son, and pretty everything that an Indian immigrant couple in the US in their mid-30s could ask for. But it was still mundane and predictable. It was about working long hours, daycare and nannies, hanging out with other parents, shopping for groceries every weekend, watching the latest movies, traveling to fun locations on long weekends, and giving our son the best upbringing we could.
Our life was like a cruising airplane on autopilot. It was moving smoothly without any real effort, and we were sitting back in our seats sipping tomato juice and watching in-flight entertainment or napping.
That video of Shama being seen naked and propositioned by the resort employee acted like a jolt of turbulence.
I must have watched that video a hundred times in the next few weeks whenever I got a moment alone. And every time, I got hard and jacked off. My gorgeous wife, walking out naked in front of a stranger. The stranger complimenting her and hitting on her, flashing his dick at her. The pauses she took and the looks on her face before shooting him down. How she masturbated like crazy after he left. And how randy she had been with me afterwards.
The randiness carried over for a few days even after we returned to Atlanta. But the daily grind soon took over, and we were back in our old routines. In Shama's case, it meant that the brief flash of sexual aggression she had shown in Jamaica totally disappeared. Sex was back to once a week, if that, usually in a hurry because we had to wake up early.
I missed Jamaica Shama. Clearly, the experience had impacted her. It had boosted her sex drive. Maybe she had a streak of exhibitionism in her. And that accidental encounter had brought it out. Would she explore it further if given the opportunity? She had still not told me about it. And I had not told her about the videotape. If I had let matters lie, it would have been just a blip of turbulence.
But obviously, I did not, or you wouldn't be reading this.
As the weeks went on and the old rut set back in, I started thinking about ways to make something happen. And testing Shama's limits.
The first attempt was when we were driving to a friend's place for a party. We had gotten a babysitter for Abhi, so it was just the two of us. As I drove, Shama was looking at her phone. She was wearing an elegant evening dress with a low neckline and looking like a billion bucks.
"Mmmm...that cleavage is distracting me. I feel like pulling over and putting my face between your tits." I said.
"Hehe, you're such a cornball." she giggled and blushed.
"Flash me those big beautiful tits of yours."
"Now? Here?" she said, raising her eyebrows and wearing a smile that suggested she wasn't entirely opposed to it.
"Why not?"
"Hehe, ok."
We were going at 70 miles an hour, but she still carefully looked around as if to make sure no one was watching. Then she reached into her dress and pulled our her right boob, shook it at me, giggled, and then put it back in right away.
"Hey, I barely got a look."
"Fine!" she smiled and took it out again for a few seconds before putting it back in.
"How about both of them?"
"It's a tight dress. Won't be easy to flash both together." she said.
"Well, you can just roll it down to your waist. Sit here topless for me." I took a chance.
"Don't be crazy!" she just laughed and shook her head.
"Come on, we are zooming along on the highway in the dark. It's still fifteen miles before the exit. Just get topless."
"No way. What if someone driving past us sees me?"
"Doesn't that...turn you on? Some random stranger seeing your tits?" I sent a feeler.
She paused for half a second and looked at me. I was feeling optimistic when suddenly she frowned.
"Ewww no! What's wrong with you?"
"Relax. I was just kidding." I said.
"Crazy idea. Crazy. What's wrong with you?" she sounded angry.
"I'm sorry. Really, I 'm sorry."
She sat scowling for the rest of the drive. I dropped it. Her mood improved at the party. Things were back to normal.
I was thinking about how Shama, usually a very quiet and chill person, had gotten so upset at my suggestion of getting topless. Me did think she doth protested too much. It seemed like the forceful reply was as much to her own urges as it was to me. It was all on tape. Being seen by that guy, seeing his erect dick, being propositioned by her had clearly turned her on. She sent him packing, but then fingered herself like crazy and then was in heat for the rest of the day. Obviously, the idea of exhibitionism wasn't as scandalous to her as she had made it seem.
But I didn't want to rock the boat too much. So I didn't push it. A few more weeks went by. And then came my second attempt.
It was a pleasant clear night and we were on the swing in our backyard having wine and talking. It was well past midnight and Abhi was fast asleep. Both of us were a little tipsy and we were exchanging work-related rants. Shama looked so cute and hot even in a simple t-shirt and shorts that I couldn't help myself.
"And then Sarah said we should...hey...hehehe..."
She stopped mid-sentence and giggled as I pulled her towards me and slipped a hand up her t-shirt.
"You're gorgeous." I said, kissing her.
"Mmm...you wanna go inside?" she asked as I unhooked her bra.
I ignored her question and kept kissing and pawing her. And then slowly I started raising her shirt.
I felt her freeze as her tits were exposed. And then she went back to kissing me. We made out for a couple of more minutes in our backyard swing with her tits hanging out g her shirt. And then I decided to go for the kill. I leaned back and in one swift motion, took off her t-shirt and bra, leaving her topless. I threw the clothes on the grass behind the swing.
"Parth!!" she whispered angrily and put her hands on her magnificent tits.
"You look so..."
"However I look, the neighbors can also look!" she said, pushing me away.
"Relax, it's late. It's dark. No one is around."
Shama sat there, still topless, staring at me for a couple of seconds. Her tits heaved so seductively. For a few moments, it seemed like she was also seeing the appeal in being topless outdoors.
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