13-03-2021, 06:42 PM
My wife and the Shopkeeper by astrel.
All credit to original author.
I am writing this story with trembling hands. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it...which is in itself nothing to the pleasure I get every time I think about how it was to watch my good, faithful and dutiful wife take the seed of another man! My 35 year old wife had started to take classes in belly dancing. It is perfect for her, as she is very dark, has nice round breasts, broad hips and a beautiful rounded belly delightfully centred with a deep dark navel.
I had been looking for a present for her for our wedding anniversary and came across an oriental goods shop. I went inside the dark and actually, quite dirty little shop to find an old man of middle eastern style sitting behind the counter. The man wore a knitted cap, the kind many Pakistani men wear and he had a very long, very thick, grey beard. He was actually quite unfriendly and more than a little rude at first and asked me what I was looking for so I explained about my wife's belly dancing at which the rather crude and ugly old man became quite interested and started to grin and show me lots of clothes, belly-chains and such like.
He asked lots of questions about my wife...about what she was like, about her interest in dancing...about her body...After a short while, the man took a small box and showed me that it was full of small silver coins. He took one and gave it to me...
"Very rare" he grunted with an evil looking grin on his face..."For you sexy wife's lovely little navel"
I thanked him rather gingerly for the coin at which he laughed and informed me that it was a very rare and expensive coin and that I could only have it if I brought my wife to the shop in person so that she could see his wares for herself.
When I got home I went about my usual business, but I couldn't stop thinking about the small, dark shop...about the Pakistani owner...and about my wife trying on his wares in the dimly lit light of the room. That night we made love like we usually do. I wore a condom as my wife didn't like taking the pill and we weren't ready for any more children right then. Strangely enough, my thoughts kept turning to the old man in the shop and the way in which he leered and grinned as we talked about my wife...
The next morning, I told my wife Anita about the shop and suggested that we went to have a look around. She was a little surprised at first and said quite firmly that the old man would have to behave himself or she would leave at once. So it was that the very next weekend, my wife and I opened the door and entered the dark, shabby little shop to the delight of the fat old man...
There sat the same ugly old man at the same grubby little desk, yet this time his eyes lit up when he saw that my wife was with me.
My wife Anita was wearing a short green pullover and a long, loose-fitting gypsy skirt, leaving a large expanse of her shapely abdomen exposed and her deep dark navel bare...
The old man stood up and came around to welcome us. He shook my hand without taking his eyes off my wife's bare midriff for one second. Then he greeted Anita, putting his arm around my wife, his grubby fingers pressing and feeling the soft brown flesh of my wife's exposed waist.
"What can I do fo this pretty lady?" asked the man.
My wife explained that she was a student of oriental dance and that she wished to look around his shop to see if he had anything that may interest her. The man asked if there was anything specific that she was after...
"I want a dance costume" replied my wife.
"What kind of dance?" questioned the man.
"Oriental dance of course..." answered my wife, at which the man grinned.
"What kind of dance?" he pressed.
"Abdominal dance..." said my wife, turning a little red at the man's insistence.
He just stood there grinning and leering at my wife's exposed stomach and navel.
"Belly dance..." said Anita shyly to the delight of the dirty old man.
"Ohhhhhhhhh, of course" said the man, "...belly, belly, belly!" he laughed.
He took her by the waist and showed her to a changing room and where he pushed her inside, handing her a cheap looking costume to start with. He didn't even look at me while we waited for my wife to get changed. In fact, the man just seemed to vanish into a store-room behind the changing room for a couple of minutes...He returned looking quite excited and called to my wife to come out so that we could see how she looked in the dance costume. When she came out, he looked at her very seriously.
She had the oriental dancing costume on - she looked beautiful...her large, heavy breasts pushed up and thrust out and the belt on the bottom of the costume two inches below her navel.
"No...no...no!" grumbled the man suddenly, "This will not do at all...not at all..."
He walked over to us, roughly pushing me aside, and proceeded to push the bottom part of Anita's costume much, much lower....so low that the whole of her smooth brown belly was bared to our eyes...so low that the top tendrils of her bushy black forest of pubic hair almost peeked out!
"You must show the whole of your belly, you silly girl!" he snapped gruffly, adjusting her belt and managing to get his hands all over Anita's soft brown belly in the performance of this duty....the belly in which Anita and I had made our children and that was, until that moment, untouched by any other man since the day of our wedding.
"Go on girl...." he grunted, "roll your nice little belly for me...show me how well you can dance!"
With that, my shy wife Anita looked over at me, but I just nodded my head. I had a lump in my throat and felt quite hot and concerned about what was happening in this man's small dark shop. My wife began to undulate her fine brown abdomen right there in the dimly lit shop, clashing the small cymbals on her fingers together in time to her abdominal undulations as if to some eastern rhythm . She shook her breasts and danced the way her instructor had taught her.
"Very good! Very good...you have learned well my girl!" he said to my wife, slapping her playfully and lecherously two or three times upon her bare abdomen almost as if I were not there in the room....
"You dance well but you are not truly relaxed. Lay on your back across my desk and put your hands behind you head and let me massage your belly for you!" the old man demanded.
My wife looked at me again as if seeking assistance but I was so taken with what was happening that all I could do was nod my head again and tell her to do as the man said..."Do as the gentlemen says darling...let him feel your belly..." I groaned.
Anita followed the man's instructions and stood there with her breasts thrust out...soft belly curving in, then out, then in again beneath them. She walked over to the table and lay down on her back as he had told her...her head resting on her hands...her body stretched out...her belly bare and sunken, rising and falling with each breath like a creamy sea of stomach flesh indented with the deep dark island of her navel. The old man began kneading and rubbing my wife's warm brown belly right in front of my eyes!
"Hmmmmmmmmm! What a nice soft belly you have my girl...and oooooohhhhh such a deep navel too!" he groaned, his grubby fat fingers playing with Anita's deep, dark, belly-button hole.
The man kept on rubbing and kneading the different sections of my wife's bare belly...I both saw and heard how he groaned under his breath. He even noticed a couple of stray hairs peeking out of the by now very low waistband of the costume and he tickled them! The impudent old man actually pulled the bottom of my wife's costume out and took a quick peek done at her thick, bushy forest of black pubic hair.
After a couple of minutes, the man stopped rubbing my wife's soft warm flesh and told her to stand. She did so. The old man then stared at her large breasts.
"Nice titties you have my girl...like big soft melons!" said the rude old man, "and fine fat nipples too, I'll be bound! You must have a different top with your costume...one with coins to jingle when you shake....Take of your top now!"
My wife stared at him, open mouthed and then looked at me.
"Don't look at him, you silly girl!" he snapped, "do as you are told and take of that top so that I can see your titties!"
My wife started to object to the man's growing sexual dominance and turned to me for support. "Do I have to show him by breasts now darling?" she cried out..."Can't you do something?"
"Go on..." I said, hardly able to speak, "do as the man says now..."
I was as if in a trance. The man's dirty, dominant nature seemed to fill the whole room. It was as if I was powerless to resist, incapable of changing what was to happen...
All credit to original author.
I am writing this story with trembling hands. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it...which is in itself nothing to the pleasure I get every time I think about how it was to watch my good, faithful and dutiful wife take the seed of another man! My 35 year old wife had started to take classes in belly dancing. It is perfect for her, as she is very dark, has nice round breasts, broad hips and a beautiful rounded belly delightfully centred with a deep dark navel.
I had been looking for a present for her for our wedding anniversary and came across an oriental goods shop. I went inside the dark and actually, quite dirty little shop to find an old man of middle eastern style sitting behind the counter. The man wore a knitted cap, the kind many Pakistani men wear and he had a very long, very thick, grey beard. He was actually quite unfriendly and more than a little rude at first and asked me what I was looking for so I explained about my wife's belly dancing at which the rather crude and ugly old man became quite interested and started to grin and show me lots of clothes, belly-chains and such like.
He asked lots of questions about my wife...about what she was like, about her interest in dancing...about her body...After a short while, the man took a small box and showed me that it was full of small silver coins. He took one and gave it to me...
"Very rare" he grunted with an evil looking grin on his face..."For you sexy wife's lovely little navel"
I thanked him rather gingerly for the coin at which he laughed and informed me that it was a very rare and expensive coin and that I could only have it if I brought my wife to the shop in person so that she could see his wares for herself.
When I got home I went about my usual business, but I couldn't stop thinking about the small, dark shop...about the Pakistani owner...and about my wife trying on his wares in the dimly lit light of the room. That night we made love like we usually do. I wore a condom as my wife didn't like taking the pill and we weren't ready for any more children right then. Strangely enough, my thoughts kept turning to the old man in the shop and the way in which he leered and grinned as we talked about my wife...
The next morning, I told my wife Anita about the shop and suggested that we went to have a look around. She was a little surprised at first and said quite firmly that the old man would have to behave himself or she would leave at once. So it was that the very next weekend, my wife and I opened the door and entered the dark, shabby little shop to the delight of the fat old man...
There sat the same ugly old man at the same grubby little desk, yet this time his eyes lit up when he saw that my wife was with me.
My wife Anita was wearing a short green pullover and a long, loose-fitting gypsy skirt, leaving a large expanse of her shapely abdomen exposed and her deep dark navel bare...
The old man stood up and came around to welcome us. He shook my hand without taking his eyes off my wife's bare midriff for one second. Then he greeted Anita, putting his arm around my wife, his grubby fingers pressing and feeling the soft brown flesh of my wife's exposed waist.
"What can I do fo this pretty lady?" asked the man.
My wife explained that she was a student of oriental dance and that she wished to look around his shop to see if he had anything that may interest her. The man asked if there was anything specific that she was after...
"I want a dance costume" replied my wife.
"What kind of dance?" questioned the man.
"Oriental dance of course..." answered my wife, at which the man grinned.
"What kind of dance?" he pressed.
"Abdominal dance..." said my wife, turning a little red at the man's insistence.
He just stood there grinning and leering at my wife's exposed stomach and navel.
"Belly dance..." said Anita shyly to the delight of the dirty old man.
"Ohhhhhhhhh, of course" said the man, "...belly, belly, belly!" he laughed.
He took her by the waist and showed her to a changing room and where he pushed her inside, handing her a cheap looking costume to start with. He didn't even look at me while we waited for my wife to get changed. In fact, the man just seemed to vanish into a store-room behind the changing room for a couple of minutes...He returned looking quite excited and called to my wife to come out so that we could see how she looked in the dance costume. When she came out, he looked at her very seriously.
She had the oriental dancing costume on - she looked beautiful...her large, heavy breasts pushed up and thrust out and the belt on the bottom of the costume two inches below her navel.
"No...no...no!" grumbled the man suddenly, "This will not do at all...not at all..."
He walked over to us, roughly pushing me aside, and proceeded to push the bottom part of Anita's costume much, much lower....so low that the whole of her smooth brown belly was bared to our eyes...so low that the top tendrils of her bushy black forest of pubic hair almost peeked out!
"You must show the whole of your belly, you silly girl!" he snapped gruffly, adjusting her belt and managing to get his hands all over Anita's soft brown belly in the performance of this duty....the belly in which Anita and I had made our children and that was, until that moment, untouched by any other man since the day of our wedding.
"Go on girl...." he grunted, "roll your nice little belly for me...show me how well you can dance!"
With that, my shy wife Anita looked over at me, but I just nodded my head. I had a lump in my throat and felt quite hot and concerned about what was happening in this man's small dark shop. My wife began to undulate her fine brown abdomen right there in the dimly lit shop, clashing the small cymbals on her fingers together in time to her abdominal undulations as if to some eastern rhythm . She shook her breasts and danced the way her instructor had taught her.
"Very good! Very good...you have learned well my girl!" he said to my wife, slapping her playfully and lecherously two or three times upon her bare abdomen almost as if I were not there in the room....
"You dance well but you are not truly relaxed. Lay on your back across my desk and put your hands behind you head and let me massage your belly for you!" the old man demanded.
My wife looked at me again as if seeking assistance but I was so taken with what was happening that all I could do was nod my head again and tell her to do as the man said..."Do as the gentlemen says darling...let him feel your belly..." I groaned.
Anita followed the man's instructions and stood there with her breasts thrust out...soft belly curving in, then out, then in again beneath them. She walked over to the table and lay down on her back as he had told her...her head resting on her hands...her body stretched out...her belly bare and sunken, rising and falling with each breath like a creamy sea of stomach flesh indented with the deep dark island of her navel. The old man began kneading and rubbing my wife's warm brown belly right in front of my eyes!
"Hmmmmmmmmm! What a nice soft belly you have my girl...and oooooohhhhh such a deep navel too!" he groaned, his grubby fat fingers playing with Anita's deep, dark, belly-button hole.
The man kept on rubbing and kneading the different sections of my wife's bare belly...I both saw and heard how he groaned under his breath. He even noticed a couple of stray hairs peeking out of the by now very low waistband of the costume and he tickled them! The impudent old man actually pulled the bottom of my wife's costume out and took a quick peek done at her thick, bushy forest of black pubic hair.
After a couple of minutes, the man stopped rubbing my wife's soft warm flesh and told her to stand. She did so. The old man then stared at her large breasts.
"Nice titties you have my girl...like big soft melons!" said the rude old man, "and fine fat nipples too, I'll be bound! You must have a different top with your costume...one with coins to jingle when you shake....Take of your top now!"
My wife stared at him, open mouthed and then looked at me.
"Don't look at him, you silly girl!" he snapped, "do as you are told and take of that top so that I can see your titties!"
My wife started to object to the man's growing sexual dominance and turned to me for support. "Do I have to show him by breasts now darling?" she cried out..."Can't you do something?"
"Go on..." I said, hardly able to speak, "do as the man says now..."
I was as if in a trance. The man's dirty, dominant nature seemed to fill the whole room. It was as if I was powerless to resist, incapable of changing what was to happen...
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