18-01-2020, 08:37 PM
Vikram leaned back in the chair and stared appreciatively at his sultry wife splayed naked on the floor. Sonali's brown skin glistened with a sheen of sweat. Her legs were parted just enough to reveal her pussy, now used and wet with cum. From under the loose strands of disheveled black hair, her heavy-lidded eyes shined with sated lust. Her mouth was open as she panted and with each heavy breath, her full breasts rose and fell.
Six of his friends sat around the room. And, all of them had just finished with her. All naked, the men were shifting their glances between Sonali and Vikram, wondering what he would say or do now that it was over. The room was quiet except for the heavy beats of a Bollywood song coming from the television.
As for Vikram, he was thinking back over how this had happened ...
He was always excited for the return of football season for two reasons since it was a chance for his friends to get together on a regular basis, but this year it was even more so. First, his team held a lot of promise after a string of mediocre years. Second, and more importantly, they had just bought a large new flat on the outskirts of Delhi with a side sitting room with a new high definition television. He was glad that Sonali liked sports as much as he did otherwise he probably wouldn't have been able to get away with it.
Football season kicked off with the usual group of friends converging on their home. With the matches broadcast in the evenings, it was perfect for weekly get togethers. The football crew consisted mainly of six of Vikram's friends. Rahul was his closest friend, a classmate from his convent school. He had known Vinod and the brothers, Karan and Sunil, since before college; two, Harinder and Gaurev, he had met a few years ago at work. They all enjoyed football and became fast friends, Harinder and Gaurev quickly integrating into the group. They supported the local Indian league team, but their passions were with the English Premier League. As the season went along, a few others from work would occasionally show up, even bringing their wives, but that rarely lasted.
Vikram knew his friends loved seeing his wife and it wasn't just because she would get involved in the excitement of the match. They liked looking at her. Even aside from sports, Sonali broke a lot of stereotypes. She was fair skinned and taller than the typical Indian woman, standing just over five and a half feet. At 32, she remain fit and vibrant - full, firm breasts, a flat abdomen, and a nice, round ass leading to long, toned legs. Sonali knew she was attractive and regardless of whether she was in a salwar kameez or jeans and t-shirt, she dressed to accentuate her looks. On those rare occasions she wore a sari, she looked like she had stepped out of a Bollywood film. Her body always caught men's attention, and her looks kept it. The flawless lines of her face were enhanced by bright eyes and sensual lips, all framed by her long, raven hair. When she did wear make-up, it was usually only a touch of kohl to accentuate her dark eyes, or some rich color of lipstick. When a formal occasion demanded something more, she was simply breathtaking.
Most men would be jealous at the thought of other men lusting after their wives, but Vikram was aroused by the idea. As far as Vikram knew, he was the only man she had been with, but she was flirtatious with the right company. And, her lasciviousness had its perks. She wasn't shy about parading around the house naked while getting dressed. She was what the old aunties would call "a modern girl." And his friends found his modern girl fun.
And, the best thing - something only known to him until this match day - was that she liked sex. Even craved it. He remembered when the marriage was being arranged, they had connected immediately. He had been pleasantly surprised that Sonali become adventurous as they had spent time getting to know each other before the wedding. As she came to trust him, she had grown from flirtatious looks, to stolen kisses, to moments of hurried hands under clothes. For their honeymoon, they had spent more time in bed than touring Geneva. They had been married for nearly six years now and his friends continually teased him about how lucky he was to have Sonali. Vikram knew it. He was a relatively handsome man, young enough to keep fit, but he knew he probably wouldn't have landed Sonali if not for an arranged marriage.
Most match days, particularly when they knew just the usual guys were coming, were the same. Sonali had the cook prepare some snacks before the old woman was sent home for the day and Vikram would set the nearby table with a couple of bottles of whiskey and some imported beer. There was always some frivolous betting as the match went on. If it happened that the broadcast match involved a derby, it would get a little heavier. Sometimes, the wager would involve some special favor from Sonali, though this was never really fulfilled and became a running joke. His friends wouldn't want to insult their babhi or ruin their friendship. No matter how modern Sonali was, there were still boundaries that could not be crossed.
Or at least they all thought. On this night, though, lines would be crossed and taboos irrevocably broken. What would begin as a playful little wager would change everything. It would be the proverbial pebble in a lake.
Six of his friends sat around the room. And, all of them had just finished with her. All naked, the men were shifting their glances between Sonali and Vikram, wondering what he would say or do now that it was over. The room was quiet except for the heavy beats of a Bollywood song coming from the television.
As for Vikram, he was thinking back over how this had happened ...
He was always excited for the return of football season for two reasons since it was a chance for his friends to get together on a regular basis, but this year it was even more so. First, his team held a lot of promise after a string of mediocre years. Second, and more importantly, they had just bought a large new flat on the outskirts of Delhi with a side sitting room with a new high definition television. He was glad that Sonali liked sports as much as he did otherwise he probably wouldn't have been able to get away with it.
Football season kicked off with the usual group of friends converging on their home. With the matches broadcast in the evenings, it was perfect for weekly get togethers. The football crew consisted mainly of six of Vikram's friends. Rahul was his closest friend, a classmate from his convent school. He had known Vinod and the brothers, Karan and Sunil, since before college; two, Harinder and Gaurev, he had met a few years ago at work. They all enjoyed football and became fast friends, Harinder and Gaurev quickly integrating into the group. They supported the local Indian league team, but their passions were with the English Premier League. As the season went along, a few others from work would occasionally show up, even bringing their wives, but that rarely lasted.
Vikram knew his friends loved seeing his wife and it wasn't just because she would get involved in the excitement of the match. They liked looking at her. Even aside from sports, Sonali broke a lot of stereotypes. She was fair skinned and taller than the typical Indian woman, standing just over five and a half feet. At 32, she remain fit and vibrant - full, firm breasts, a flat abdomen, and a nice, round ass leading to long, toned legs. Sonali knew she was attractive and regardless of whether she was in a salwar kameez or jeans and t-shirt, she dressed to accentuate her looks. On those rare occasions she wore a sari, she looked like she had stepped out of a Bollywood film. Her body always caught men's attention, and her looks kept it. The flawless lines of her face were enhanced by bright eyes and sensual lips, all framed by her long, raven hair. When she did wear make-up, it was usually only a touch of kohl to accentuate her dark eyes, or some rich color of lipstick. When a formal occasion demanded something more, she was simply breathtaking.
Most men would be jealous at the thought of other men lusting after their wives, but Vikram was aroused by the idea. As far as Vikram knew, he was the only man she had been with, but she was flirtatious with the right company. And, her lasciviousness had its perks. She wasn't shy about parading around the house naked while getting dressed. She was what the old aunties would call "a modern girl." And his friends found his modern girl fun.
And, the best thing - something only known to him until this match day - was that she liked sex. Even craved it. He remembered when the marriage was being arranged, they had connected immediately. He had been pleasantly surprised that Sonali become adventurous as they had spent time getting to know each other before the wedding. As she came to trust him, she had grown from flirtatious looks, to stolen kisses, to moments of hurried hands under clothes. For their honeymoon, they had spent more time in bed than touring Geneva. They had been married for nearly six years now and his friends continually teased him about how lucky he was to have Sonali. Vikram knew it. He was a relatively handsome man, young enough to keep fit, but he knew he probably wouldn't have landed Sonali if not for an arranged marriage.
Most match days, particularly when they knew just the usual guys were coming, were the same. Sonali had the cook prepare some snacks before the old woman was sent home for the day and Vikram would set the nearby table with a couple of bottles of whiskey and some imported beer. There was always some frivolous betting as the match went on. If it happened that the broadcast match involved a derby, it would get a little heavier. Sometimes, the wager would involve some special favor from Sonali, though this was never really fulfilled and became a running joke. His friends wouldn't want to insult their babhi or ruin their friendship. No matter how modern Sonali was, there were still boundaries that could not be crossed.
Or at least they all thought. On this night, though, lines would be crossed and taboos irrevocably broken. What would begin as a playful little wager would change everything. It would be the proverbial pebble in a lake.
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