02-07-2022, 08:56 PM
(This post was last modified: 02-07-2022, 09:02 PM by Raki. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
My name is Rajesh Mathur and I was in deep trouble at work.
I was making ends meet, but barely. I work at a large family owned Indian company on the outskirts of Pune that manufactures electronics for security systems. I had recently been made permanent, and given a raise for my 4 years of hard work as an engineer, and immediately after that I had purchased a large house and a bigger car. I knew I was stretched financially with the mortgage and a car loan, but as long as I was employed, I was fine.
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My company had recently gone global, with offices in Korea and Sri Lanka, and I had worked my way up the corporate ladder and was a valued engineer, so I didn’t realize my job would ever be in jeopardy. Now, suddenly, I was in danger of losing my house, my car, everything!
It was my asshole of a boss, Gaurav. We were working on a project and Gaurav was the project lead. He was also the Vice President of the company, and he had made a series of bad deals with a foreign collaborator. Parts were ordered and paid for, but the quality delivered was below par. There were also rumours that Gaurav took kickbacks to seal that deal.
However, the deal was for engineering equipment, and as the senior engineer on this project the order had my authorization on it (not his), and now he was going to put all the blame on me. And even though everyone in the head office knew whose fault it really was, no one would come to my aid — because Gaurav, my boss, was also engaged to Devika Sarun, the daughter of the owner of the company, Mr. Hemant Sarun himself.
No one would publicly go against the owner’s daughter’s fiancé. One of the Board of Directors who liked me took me into confidence and urged me to find a solution quickly. If I could find proof of the kickbacks, he told me, I was safe.
If I thought my wife Vidya was not going to be happy when I would break the news to her, I underestimated the situation. She was furious.
“How could you have put us into this situation?” She screamed at me. “I can’t believe you would sign papers without knowing what your turd shit of a boss was doing!”
“Honey, please calm down. I will try to find a solution.”
“How?” Vidya knew our financial situation. “Our savings are close to zero and we are living essentially hand-to-mouth. Everyone in your company will kiss Gaurav’s ass and you will be the one put on the firing line. And with this huge mortgage, even if I get a job it will never match what you earn now.”
I knew what she said was correct.
Vidya was a housewife. She wasn’t employed, and until recently, with my salary, there was no need for her to work. She did run a small home business of designing and selling inexpensive jewellery and accessories for women through the internet, but that was more of a hobby than any serious employment.
“Honey,” I tried to pacify her. “Devika, the daughter of the owner, Gaurav’s fiancée, thinks he’s an angel. If only I could find some way to expose Gaurav to her and her father, then he would be gone, and they would be forced to keep me to repair the damage. It’s an engineering project and they need me.”
“Hmm,” was Vidya’s terse reply.
I spent the next few days trying to figure out how to expose Gaurav. I knew I had to do it without any help from the Board of Directors. I went over all the deals, but there was no legal proof of his involvement or of any kickbacks. Every night Vidya would force me to recount all of the happenings of the day, and I would have to confess to her of my futile efforts. It wasn’t looking good.
I also tried to find evidences of Gaurav’s philandering. We all knew he fancied himself a ladies man, and during the company trip to Goa when his fiancée couldn’t join us, there were rumours of two or three girls in his room at night. However, no one would testify to anything and the matter died there. Nevertheless, even this was an exercise in uselessness. Gaurav was simply too careful, and he had too much on the line, to leave any evidence of his infidelity lying around.
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After the fifth night, with me at my wit’s end and Vidya unable to sleep, she just blurted out, “I should just go to bed with him, and you can tape it and show it to his fiancée!”
I froze, and gazed at my wife to see if she was joking.
Here, I should pause and take a few minutes to tell you about my wife Vidya.
I feel very lucky to have a beautiful goddess like Vidya as my wife. At 5’8″, Vidya stood taller than most Indian women. She was my height, and that too without heels. She kept herself fit with regular exercise. Her breasts were slightly bigger than average, and she had wide hips and a broad ass. When she walked past any construction site, she always attracted whistles and catcalls, and when we went clubbing, men often hit on her, sometimes in front of me, asking her out for a “sexy time”.
When she wore a sari, Vidya could rival any Bollywood actress. Since Vidya was voluptuous, she loved to wear tight clothes that showed off her curves. Vidya usually wore a flimsy almost see-through blouse with no bra, and thin chiffon saris that left her ample midriff bare. She loved to flaunt her toned tummy and her navel. Several times this factor has gotten us better service at restaurants as waiters would rush to serve us, just to catch a glimpse of her fabulous boobs constrained against a tight blouse, or the sight of a perfect milky white belly. When I would go shopping with her, sometimes I let her walk ahead, just so I could catch other men checking her out, their gaze fixated lustfully on her sashaying buttocks which her sari would tightly cling to.
I knew Vidya was no virgin when we got married, whereas I was (Vidya is my one and only). Ours was a quick courtship — we dated very briefly — yet Vidya made sure I knew what I was getting into. In her own words, she was a prime slut and a “randi” (crude Hindi for ‘slut’) at college.
“I probably had more guys deposit their cum in me in a week than most women have in their whole lives.” She once told me, when I had asked. “In college my legs were open to many. I loved to fuck and had a string of lovers, and I was used by everyone — from the students to some of professors to even a couple of the night time security guards.”
Sometimes, when we would meet up with her old friends, in particular her best friend Lata, new tales would emerge of the legendary Vidya Sharma (her maiden name) and her sexual exploits at college.
Of how once, when partying after exams, in a shady night club, a Pathan guy Lata had been seeing for a week had alleged that he had the biggest dick amongst all students on campus, and how no girl had ever managed to take it all in her mouth at once. Vidya had immediately challenged him, and in front of her friend Lata had not only gone down on him then and there, she managed to swallow his monster cock completely (Vidya could deep throat like no one else — she was a born cocksucker). Not only did she blow him, and suck every drop, but cheered on by Lata, Vidya had immediately turned around, pulled down her pants and bent over, presenting her bum to him. The Pathan (and three of his friends) spent the night with her and Lata, fucking them in the ass (and other holes) all night.
These stories, and many others, I had gotten from Lata, and from Vidya herself. For example, there was Vidya’s college cricket team. Vidya had invited all these guys who were on the cricket team when she was in college — all fifteen of them — to our wedding. When we were standing on the dais for a group photo, Vidya had leaned in and whispered to me, “Take a good look at all these guys, honey. Each of these guys knows my pussy better than you!”
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My jaw must have dropped, for Vidya grinned, discretely pinched my butts and continued, “In my last term in university, there was this big final match. I was seeing the coach at that time. He promised the team that I would be the celebratory fuck if the team would win — and they did! After the victory party, every one of these boys lined up to get a blow job from me, and the guy who was Man of the Match had the first use of my pussy. Say hello to the guys who have fucked your wife before you, honey.”
It was quite surreal as each guy shook my hand to congratulate me, and gave a beaming Vidya a peck on her cheeks, to know that each of them knew Vidya’s intimate folds, and I, her husband, was still not granted that privilege.
So that was my Vidya. However, in our two and half years of marriage, she has been the ideal wife. She was polite and dutiful to my parents, loving and respectful to my family, a real fun person to be around with friends, and a real wild tigress in bed.
Mrs. Vidya Mathur.
I still could not believe I had landed such a hot desi maal as my wife.
I have no shame in admitting that Vidya controls every aspect of my life — and I happily let her. What man would mind, knowing that such a sex goddess was awaiting him in bed every night? Vidya wanted sex, and she wanted it often. I was clumsy at first, and used to cum quickly, but she patiently trained me to build up my stamina and staying power. Vidya knew all the tricks and she wasn’t afraid of trying new things. Recently we started experimenting with light BDSM, and so sometimes Vidya would spank me in bed, and other times she would have me lick her feet. I was simply happy to do whatever I could to give her pleasure.
Vidya had developed one strange fetish one year into our marriage — that I was only too happy to indulge — she would insist I undress completely before I came to her. Unless I was completely naked, she would not even take off a stich of her clothes.
I was making ends meet, but barely. I work at a large family owned Indian company on the outskirts of Pune that manufactures electronics for security systems. I had recently been made permanent, and given a raise for my 4 years of hard work as an engineer, and immediately after that I had purchased a large house and a bigger car. I knew I was stretched financially with the mortgage and a car loan, but as long as I was employed, I was fine.
Advertisements
My company had recently gone global, with offices in Korea and Sri Lanka, and I had worked my way up the corporate ladder and was a valued engineer, so I didn’t realize my job would ever be in jeopardy. Now, suddenly, I was in danger of losing my house, my car, everything!
It was my asshole of a boss, Gaurav. We were working on a project and Gaurav was the project lead. He was also the Vice President of the company, and he had made a series of bad deals with a foreign collaborator. Parts were ordered and paid for, but the quality delivered was below par. There were also rumours that Gaurav took kickbacks to seal that deal.
However, the deal was for engineering equipment, and as the senior engineer on this project the order had my authorization on it (not his), and now he was going to put all the blame on me. And even though everyone in the head office knew whose fault it really was, no one would come to my aid — because Gaurav, my boss, was also engaged to Devika Sarun, the daughter of the owner of the company, Mr. Hemant Sarun himself.
No one would publicly go against the owner’s daughter’s fiancé. One of the Board of Directors who liked me took me into confidence and urged me to find a solution quickly. If I could find proof of the kickbacks, he told me, I was safe.
If I thought my wife Vidya was not going to be happy when I would break the news to her, I underestimated the situation. She was furious.
“How could you have put us into this situation?” She screamed at me. “I can’t believe you would sign papers without knowing what your turd shit of a boss was doing!”
“Honey, please calm down. I will try to find a solution.”
“How?” Vidya knew our financial situation. “Our savings are close to zero and we are living essentially hand-to-mouth. Everyone in your company will kiss Gaurav’s ass and you will be the one put on the firing line. And with this huge mortgage, even if I get a job it will never match what you earn now.”
I knew what she said was correct.
Vidya was a housewife. She wasn’t employed, and until recently, with my salary, there was no need for her to work. She did run a small home business of designing and selling inexpensive jewellery and accessories for women through the internet, but that was more of a hobby than any serious employment.
“Honey,” I tried to pacify her. “Devika, the daughter of the owner, Gaurav’s fiancée, thinks he’s an angel. If only I could find some way to expose Gaurav to her and her father, then he would be gone, and they would be forced to keep me to repair the damage. It’s an engineering project and they need me.”
“Hmm,” was Vidya’s terse reply.
I spent the next few days trying to figure out how to expose Gaurav. I knew I had to do it without any help from the Board of Directors. I went over all the deals, but there was no legal proof of his involvement or of any kickbacks. Every night Vidya would force me to recount all of the happenings of the day, and I would have to confess to her of my futile efforts. It wasn’t looking good.
I also tried to find evidences of Gaurav’s philandering. We all knew he fancied himself a ladies man, and during the company trip to Goa when his fiancée couldn’t join us, there were rumours of two or three girls in his room at night. However, no one would testify to anything and the matter died there. Nevertheless, even this was an exercise in uselessness. Gaurav was simply too careful, and he had too much on the line, to leave any evidence of his infidelity lying around.
Advertisements
After the fifth night, with me at my wit’s end and Vidya unable to sleep, she just blurted out, “I should just go to bed with him, and you can tape it and show it to his fiancée!”
I froze, and gazed at my wife to see if she was joking.
Here, I should pause and take a few minutes to tell you about my wife Vidya.
I feel very lucky to have a beautiful goddess like Vidya as my wife. At 5’8″, Vidya stood taller than most Indian women. She was my height, and that too without heels. She kept herself fit with regular exercise. Her breasts were slightly bigger than average, and she had wide hips and a broad ass. When she walked past any construction site, she always attracted whistles and catcalls, and when we went clubbing, men often hit on her, sometimes in front of me, asking her out for a “sexy time”.
When she wore a sari, Vidya could rival any Bollywood actress. Since Vidya was voluptuous, she loved to wear tight clothes that showed off her curves. Vidya usually wore a flimsy almost see-through blouse with no bra, and thin chiffon saris that left her ample midriff bare. She loved to flaunt her toned tummy and her navel. Several times this factor has gotten us better service at restaurants as waiters would rush to serve us, just to catch a glimpse of her fabulous boobs constrained against a tight blouse, or the sight of a perfect milky white belly. When I would go shopping with her, sometimes I let her walk ahead, just so I could catch other men checking her out, their gaze fixated lustfully on her sashaying buttocks which her sari would tightly cling to.
I knew Vidya was no virgin when we got married, whereas I was (Vidya is my one and only). Ours was a quick courtship — we dated very briefly — yet Vidya made sure I knew what I was getting into. In her own words, she was a prime slut and a “randi” (crude Hindi for ‘slut’) at college.
“I probably had more guys deposit their cum in me in a week than most women have in their whole lives.” She once told me, when I had asked. “In college my legs were open to many. I loved to fuck and had a string of lovers, and I was used by everyone — from the students to some of professors to even a couple of the night time security guards.”
Sometimes, when we would meet up with her old friends, in particular her best friend Lata, new tales would emerge of the legendary Vidya Sharma (her maiden name) and her sexual exploits at college.
Of how once, when partying after exams, in a shady night club, a Pathan guy Lata had been seeing for a week had alleged that he had the biggest dick amongst all students on campus, and how no girl had ever managed to take it all in her mouth at once. Vidya had immediately challenged him, and in front of her friend Lata had not only gone down on him then and there, she managed to swallow his monster cock completely (Vidya could deep throat like no one else — she was a born cocksucker). Not only did she blow him, and suck every drop, but cheered on by Lata, Vidya had immediately turned around, pulled down her pants and bent over, presenting her bum to him. The Pathan (and three of his friends) spent the night with her and Lata, fucking them in the ass (and other holes) all night.
These stories, and many others, I had gotten from Lata, and from Vidya herself. For example, there was Vidya’s college cricket team. Vidya had invited all these guys who were on the cricket team when she was in college — all fifteen of them — to our wedding. When we were standing on the dais for a group photo, Vidya had leaned in and whispered to me, “Take a good look at all these guys, honey. Each of these guys knows my pussy better than you!”
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My jaw must have dropped, for Vidya grinned, discretely pinched my butts and continued, “In my last term in university, there was this big final match. I was seeing the coach at that time. He promised the team that I would be the celebratory fuck if the team would win — and they did! After the victory party, every one of these boys lined up to get a blow job from me, and the guy who was Man of the Match had the first use of my pussy. Say hello to the guys who have fucked your wife before you, honey.”
It was quite surreal as each guy shook my hand to congratulate me, and gave a beaming Vidya a peck on her cheeks, to know that each of them knew Vidya’s intimate folds, and I, her husband, was still not granted that privilege.
So that was my Vidya. However, in our two and half years of marriage, she has been the ideal wife. She was polite and dutiful to my parents, loving and respectful to my family, a real fun person to be around with friends, and a real wild tigress in bed.
Mrs. Vidya Mathur.
I still could not believe I had landed such a hot desi maal as my wife.
I have no shame in admitting that Vidya controls every aspect of my life — and I happily let her. What man would mind, knowing that such a sex goddess was awaiting him in bed every night? Vidya wanted sex, and she wanted it often. I was clumsy at first, and used to cum quickly, but she patiently trained me to build up my stamina and staying power. Vidya knew all the tricks and she wasn’t afraid of trying new things. Recently we started experimenting with light BDSM, and so sometimes Vidya would spank me in bed, and other times she would have me lick her feet. I was simply happy to do whatever I could to give her pleasure.
Vidya had developed one strange fetish one year into our marriage — that I was only too happy to indulge — she would insist I undress completely before I came to her. Unless I was completely naked, she would not even take off a stich of her clothes.
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