[samcuck2]

Hello guys, this story is inspired by an erotic novel. It is a cuckold story based on some real life incidents and some fiction. 
Disclaimer: This story includes characters from different cast, religion, colour. So if u get offended easily by these things , please don't read this story.
I'm going to start the story soon:

[samcuck2]

remove repeated lines

They both needed more from their relationship.....
about niine inches more

[samcuck2]

Part 1

Some girls kept their age a secret. Not Priyanka. She was twenty-eight years old.
She was, a Aishwarya Rai lookalike—not super-model material, but lovely. Even with her hair tied back, Priyanka looked fantastic. She hit the gym regularly and packed a body any woman would be proud of.





 The wedding had been a smashing success. Her husband Samarth or Sam, as everyone called him—came from a wealthy family, and his parents had taken on the cost of the whole wedding, sparing no expense.
Priyanka was a successful model. Samarth was following the footsteps of his dad, was a software engineer. He was a tall guy, thin yet surprisingly athletic. His charming yet caring way had convinced Priyanka to be his beloved. They had played the game of life correctly, and everything had fallen into place.

Today would be their first day as husband and wife. Everyone expected that there would soon be children on the way, that Samarth would excel at his job and that Priyanka’s modeling career would flourish. The wedding had been just about perfect. Priyanka wore a gorgeous
orange lehenga adorned with a necklace of rare rubies gifted by her in-laws. Man, was she a queen!
* * * *




In every marriage there are issues. Priyanka had a few. She loved to play on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and anywhere else where she could talk about her life. She wanted to be important. She was a “me” girl. She wore the latest trendy clothes, calculated her fat grams, and looked slim and put together. Samarth did his best to fulfill all her wants and needs. He, too, stayed in shape. He catered to her other whims and made her feel like a princess. Samarth’ position at his company seemed solid. The money poured in, and Priyanka could take the time off from her modelling carrier and get and do the things she wanted.

There was one secret Priyanka and Sam kept to themselves—one that concerned their bedroom activities. You see, Priyanka’s Sam was small in the penile department—very small—a fact that frustrated his bride. The newness of love, marriage and getting all she ever dreamed of only lasted so long. The couple had settled in. They had just moved into a wonderful house that suited them both perfectly.
Tonight was the first in their new home. Priyanka turned to her husband in bed. “Sam, I wish we could do better ... our love-making, I mean.” She
frowned, and even the little lines between her brows were adorable. “We just can’t seem to get on the same page.”
The husband shook his head, squeezed the hands of his pretty wife, and gazed earnestly into her eyes. He tried to comfort her. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. I’ll do anything it takes to make you happy.”
Samarth Tiwari had no idea he was about to become a cuckold.

[samcuck2]

Part 2

Samarth and Priyanka decided that they don’t want to live in the city anymore. They agreed that they want to live away from noise and traffic, so they bought a big house in Alibaug, it has a ocean view a big swimming pool. There were only 4 houses in this area, all of them were big and very costly. Samarth took a loan to buy this house. They both were very happy.

“I love you, Sam,” whispered Priyanka.

Samarth packed his briefcase, smiled, and grabbed his lunch as he headed out the door. Wintertime was Priyanka’s favorite. She had a time off from her work, lots of sunshine and good weather in Mumbai. Priyanka loved her fruits, strawberry was her favourite. Today she would sip black coffee, head out to take the sun near pool in her new black calvin klein bikni, and read a romance novel. This was a good day. They had just one neighbor, a real estate agent named Aman Furniturewala. Aman was never home, so Priyanka could frolic and pretty much do as she pleased.

Priyanka pranced about in her two-piece, which showed off her trim body to perfection. Sliding smoothly into her pool chair, she eased into the late morning sunshine. A pair of giant white sunglasses kept her green eyes shaded as drifted off to sleep.

Aman happened to drive up next door. He had left an important phone number on his counter and rushed out of his black Audi to grab it.

Aman wore a typical business suit, and his forty-something body still fit it well. His three football games a week had kept him fit. He rushed into his home, running his hand through his dark, semi-feathered hair. He was late already. Then he happened to glance out his window and see Priyanka. He grinned and licked his lips. She certainly was a looker for a married woman. He laughed again, keeping his eyes fixed on her. Man, she had the hottest body, he thought. Lucky guy, that Samarth fellow. He rushed out his front door. On his way back to the insurance office, Aman could not help but ponder how it would be to have Priyanka as a lover. Any normal, sane guy would love to taste that. When he arrived at his destination, the meeting had already begun.

* * * *

The company in which Sam was working had been around for nearly twenty years. Samarth recently joined this company. The tall, lanky yet attractive software enginner wore glasses when working and always had a studious air. His black hair, never overly perfect, was pushed to the left. Today his load was light, yet he felt the pressure of a newbie. He would do his best.

Vishal, a senior employee, approached his desk. “What a weekend,” he sighed, patting Samarth on the shoulder. Samarth looked at him and, smiling, brushed off Vishal’s neck. “You have lipstick on your neck.” Vishal laughed yet rubbed at his neck as he walked away. Before Samarth could say more, his manager entered the office. Pratap Mehta was a big-shot managing partner. He expected the guys to work hard. He was Samarth’s father business partner and a good old friend, He was a father figure for Samarth. As a manager Pratap was good to Samarth. Pratap was an alpha male. People respected him, at least at work.

In the hallway at lunchtime, Samarth overheard Vishal talking with another employee. “She is such a tiger on these escapades. I mean, she is on fire for weeks after.”

Taking a drink from the water fountain, Samarth had to wonder what the hell Vishal was raving about. He decided to call Priyanka and say hello before heading back to the office. He turned to leave, and the last words he could make out from Vishal were, “Swinger parties are not what they used to be. These people are wealthy and sexy and man do they throw a killer party.” Samarth hustled back inside. Face flushed, he sat down and thought, “Swinging party?” He heard about this term “Swinging party” here and there and knew about it.

He called his wife to check in. She told him she was enjoying the sun and making a sandwich wrap. Soon, she’d be heading to the gym. A little envious, but satisfied with Priyanka’s update, Samarth went back to work. The client, who arrived ten minutes later, found him more than prepared.

* * * *

Pratap watched Samarth through the glass doors and nodded. Samarth had no idea how much this company was struggling. The bad economy had put a huge damper on the business.

* * * *

That evening Priyanka and Samarth went to see a film. There was mall around 15 km from their house, they went to see a romantic Bollywood movie. It was a sweet love story, and both of them had a good time. Later, the newly married couple joined each other in bed. They kissed, and Priyanka slipped out of her tank top and panties and straddled her Sam. In no time his t-shirt was removed, his boxers next. The sexy woman, now aflame, rolled to his side and took his penis in her warm mouth.

Samarth was semi-erect, yet small. Samarth, sadly, had a thin, almost headless cock. Priyanka sucked him vigorously, and when he was hard

enough jumped back on top, sliding his member inside of her now moist hole in movement. She bounced happily. He came too quickly. The couple, now both on edge, tried to console each other. “I was too excited, honey,” Samarth said, not for the first time. “It will get better.” Priyanka wanted more, much more. “Lick me then,” she insisted. “Make me cum.” Sam dove in, eager to make up for his premature ejaculation. He wanted his wife to be happy.

* * * *

As months passed nothing really changed in the bedroom. She started modelling again. Priyanka’s work kept her busy, and she was much more tired in the evenings. Sex had become less and less a priority. Samarth worked hard and held his own at the office. He made it a point to listen to Vishal’s swinger tales whenever possible. Vishal liked to talk, and every so often Samarth would eavesdrop in the hallways of the office. He had to wonder. Maybe, just maybe, he and his darling Priyanka could try something as extreme as swinging. He thought about it long and hard.

* * * *

To amuse herself, Priyanka played online. Once some fashion projects were complete; she browsed Facebook. Her college friends would chat up a storm with her. They all needed attention, and this place let them feel popular even though they were in their late twenties. If Samarth worked on a weekend, Priyanka made sure to go shopping. It was like a drug to her. She liked to exercise, eat well, chat on Facebook, and shop.

It was on one of those shopping trips that Priyanka ran into their next-

door neighbor, Aman. The mall had been quiet for a change and, while she was looking over a selection of new shoes, Priyanka and Aman came face to face. She acted surprised, smiled, and said, “Well, hi, stranger, what are you doing in the women’s shoe section?”

The sturdy Aman smiled back, “I was actually across the way looking at gym shorts. I saw this very pretty woman and just had to say hello.” Priyanka blushed and said, “We haven’t seen you in quite a while now. I thought you might have moved.”

Aman shook his head, “Nope, the company had me on one long training

program. We were in Kolkata for three weeks.”  The two exchanged a few more pleasantries. Priyanka invited Aman to come by sometime to have dinner with her and Samarth. Aman said he was up for that and would drop by when he got the chance.

“Well I’m out of here. I have a date tonight, first one since ... you know.”

Priyanka knew of Aman’s loss. Word had spread that his wife had died in a car crash on the first day of summer two years earlier. She was surprised he had waited so long to date. “I hope it’s a smashing success, Aman. You deserve a shot at love again.” Aman himself now blushed. “Well, thank you, young lady. I appreciate that.”

The two parted ways and Priyanka, fondling the latest style in shoes, came to the conclusion that she had to have them. They might feel a little uncomfortable, but they would look fantastic. She made her purchase and exited the store, wandering over to Victoria’s Secret. It took her no time to locate a sexy green bra and panties. She would wear the ensemble tonight for a special evening with her Sam.

That evening Samarth and his wife enjoyed fine wine, good dinner, and a wonderful salad Priyanka had prepared. They sat and shared good conversation. Then came the phone call. Samarth answered. Pratap Mehta was on the other end. “Son, I have something I need to talk to you about.”

Samarth said, “Okay, sir, what is it?”

Pratap hesitated, stuttering slightly. “Perhaps we should do this inperson? Meet me at the office in 30 minutes.” Samarth was stunned as he hung up the phone. Hoping not to spoil his wife’s dinner, he casually rose and said, “I need to run to the office for a few minutes, honey. Be right back.”

Priyanka had big plans once the meal was complete. The fridge held whip cream and her favorite, fresh strawberries. Under her skirt and blouse was the new lingerie set she had purchased earlier. Hiding her disappointment, she touched his shoulder and asked, “Is everything okay?” Samarth reassured her that all would be fine, that he’d be back before she knew it.

* * * *

The office was dim. A single light illuminated the main room as Pratap and Samarth spoke. The Mehta began, “Samarth, it is with great sorrow that I must relate some bad news. The company is on the brink of bankruptcy; we are hurting, son. We’re also being sued by a major client.” Samarth was in shock. How could he be so clueless? “Sir, how can this be?”

Pratap walked about, lost in thought, before facing Samarth. “I thought we’d come out of it, that the economy would turn ... but now this! Samarth, we can’t afford to keep you on.”

Samarth got defensive. “But sir, I just started ... Priyanka and I have major payments, a house loan, and too many big bills. What will we do?”

The men stared at each other in silence. Pratap finally said, “Samarth, hopefully this is only a temporary situation. I can sugar-coat it all you want. It doesn’t change the fact that you, as the new guy, had to be laid off.”

Samarth didn’t want to go home. He kept seeing the happy face of Priyanka. She was always happy. How could he share this news with her?

What would they do? He could get another job for some other company, but with whom? He stopped at a coffee shop, where he stayed for several hours. As he opened the door, he expected to see his wife sitting there, waiting for answers. She was nowhere in sight. The kitchen table was cleaned up. He made his way upstairs to find Priyanka reading on their bed. He did not want to share anything tonight. He felt bad enough. She, her brow creased with concern, said, “Sam is everything okay? Why did the meeting take so long?”

He lied. “Everything’s fine. A big mess on a major deal and there were too many loose ends to tie up. Sorry it took so long, babe.”

Priyanka snuggled up to her husband, kissed his neck, and rubbed his chest. He was hardly in the mood for anything, let alone trying to please his horny wife. He couldn’t handle failure twice in one day. Priyanka slid her delicate hand along his body, inside his boxers, until she reached his cock.

She stroked him just the way he liked it, coddled his balls. None of her usual moves could make him hard. She wanted to fuck. She whispered in his ear, “Honey, I want to make love to you.” She slithered off the bed to show her sexy new bra and panties for her man. Watching her, Samarth marveled at the beauty of his wife. Priyanka was a looker. She was firm and downright lovely. Priyanka paused mid-strut to give him her best smoldering look. Then

she moved in for a deep kiss. Samarth could not respond. He said, “I really wish I had the drive, but after today, with all the stress and shit that has gone down, I just want peace.”

* * * *

Priyanka was not happy. There would be no satisfaction. She stood in the bathroom and spoke to her reflection in the mirror. “I’m sexy. I work hard at keeping my body nice. I love my husband, and I want to have passionate sex as much as possible. What am I doing wrong?”

The next morning, the married couple sat together at the breakfast table in an odd silence. After a while Priyanka could no longer contain her emotions. She blurted out, “Things have to change, Sam. When a woman hits her stride sexually, she needs ... she needs ... satisfaction.” He looked up at her from his newspaper, his eyes void of emotion. She wanted his full attention. “Sam, are you listening to me? I’m going crazy here.”

He still did not reply, so she went on, “Since you won’t even acknowledge what I’m saying, let me put it a different way.” She ran her hands up her face and through her blonde hair. “If we can’t find a way to improve our sex life, I will ... I will ... look elsewhere.” It was clear how difficult this declaration was for her. She started crying, and it hurt Samarth so much that he stood up, took a deep breath and let it all out. “You will not be the only one looking elsewhere these days. I lost my job.” Furiously he wiped the tears from his eyes and raked his fingers through his short brown hair.

“You what?!” Priyanka shook her head in shock. “It’s your father’s friend company. How can you lose your job?” The couple held each other most of the afternoon. Their conversation had lasted for most of the morning. More tears were shed, followed by loving embraces. They would find a way to work it all out.

Samarth had a lot on his mind ... his unemployment, the loan, the bills, and his wife’s expensive tastes. As the evening settled in, everything had changed. Samarth could not erase the words of his sweet Priyanka. “I will look elsewhere.”

[samcuck2]

Part 3

Losing a job, as awkward as it can be, can actually make a couple closer or it can create some tensions. So it was for Samarth and Priyanka, they became more closer. The search for a new job was slow in this poor economy, but Samarth kept looking. Priyanka picked up extra modelling assignments and agreed to do some assignments away from Mumbai, too. The sex was, at best, loving and comforting. Several times, while inside his attractive wife, Samarth would hear her say things like, “Don’t cum yet. Fuck me good and don’t stop.” He continued to struggle with keeping his erections, and his small size did little for his wife’s deeper cravings. He had no answers; no clue as to how to make it all better. He had no job, and she was the one working. His worries about his inadequacy—his awareness that he was a failure as a lover—ran constantly through his head. He was going nuts.

One evening he was sitting in a pub, that night changed his mind set. Vishal, one of the employe in his previous job, met him over to the bar area. The evening had been a busy one, and laughter was in the air. Vishal himself was in a giddy mood, and they chatted up for a while. He, too, was working less these days and spending more time with his wife, Madhuri.

The subject turned to Samarth and whether he had had any success in his job search.The answer was, of course, a firm negative. Vishal, being a tad tipsy, made a comment that got Samarth excited. “You know what, Mr. Tiwari? When a woman makes the bread, all us guys get is a power struggle. The only way to please her is kick-ass sex. Never forget that one, young man.” Vishal ordered up two shots for them and chuckled.

Out of nowhere Samarth replied, “That’s the problem. Our sex life.” Vishal, wearing his trademark silly bow tie and suit, laughed and said, “Life is never easy.” The liquor helped him blurt out, “My solution was to take my Madhuri to swinger parties. That way she had all she ever wanted and could never again complain.” Both men were silent, perhaps realizing that the subject of the conversation wasn’t one to drink and chat over. Samarth knew that Priyanka liked the finer things in life. She was his sunshine, his princess. He wanted her to be happy ... or—he would never get her words out of his head—“I will look elsewhere.” More drinks followed, and the guys spoke of everything, from sports to computers. Then Vishal asked simply, “By the way, how’s that beautiful wife of yours these days?” Samarth hesitated, rubbing his chin. “She’s good, positive as always.” “She still keeps that bod in shape, I imagine?” added Vishal sipping his long glass of light beer.

Samarth shook his head, rolled his eyes and replied, “Yup, she still looks great.” The younger man contemplated his next question deeply before saying, “Can I ask you one thing, Vishal sir?” Vishal, with serious eyes and, adjusting his long mustache, nodded “Sure.”

Perhaps the gray in Vishal’s medium dark flowing hair held the wisdom Samarth so badly sought. “How did you find out about these swinger parties?” he asked. Later, as he left the pub, Samarth had many things to consider.

* * * *

At home, Samarth felt renewed passion. He found Priyanka reading some latest fashion magazine in bed. He neatly removed them from her grasp, slid her bikini panties down and buried his face between her legs. She was speechless. He went down, tasting her sweet juices. She became inflamed with desire. He flicked his tongue at her button, licking it up and down. She moaned, intensely excited. She called for him, ‘Oh Sam, I want you in me! Come to me, make love to me.”

The husband slid off his trousers. He was hard and entered her in one thrust. She cried out, “Oh yes, my husband, my lover, my prince.” The couple were horny, made love, passionately and with great resolve. Sam would hold out. He would not shoot. He would be strong. He kept his control for ten minutes—a long time for him.

“Oh yeah, I’m coming!” Samarth yelled, pulling out and spewing whiteness all over his sexy wife’s flat tummy. Priyanka loved it all. She was happy. She hugged her man, her husband. But she was still horny and wanted more. She masturbated when Sam showered. She had to extinguish her scorching fire.

In the morning, Samarth opened his laptop to find advertisement for work. He posted his resume online at even more places. He made calls, too. Priyanka prepared to head to her work. She always looked so good. Today she thought she should wear something Indian and wore a black saree, a sleevless black blouse. Sitting in a chair, she slid on her small, high-heeled black sandals. The photographers had themselves a hottie for this model, Samarth thought.

While tying back her silky black hair, Priyanka smiled at her husband. “I Love you, Sam.” She got up to leave. “Have a great day.” Samarth gave his wife a kiss. He smiled, too. Watching her leave the house, he knew tonight would mark a big event in their lives.

He resolved to bring up ‘swinging’ as an opportunity to meet other couples and perhaps even just men. Men for sex, men for satisfaction. She would either say, “You are freaking nuts,” or perhaps find the idea arousing. Later on he was nervous just thinking about it.

* * * *

Later that afternoon Priyanka and her best friend Menakshi went shopping. Menakshi— her beautiful model friend—was also a looker. Main attraction of her body was her butt, she had an amazing ass, Priyanka used to tease her. She had just gotten engaged and, with her wedding coming up, the girls needed a theme.

Meenakshi

First they stopped at a cafe for iced coffee. Menakshi, tossing her long hair out of her face, was excited and spoke first, “I can’t believe I’m getting married. Time sure has gone by quickly, Priyanka.” Sipping her drink, Priyanka nodded in agreement. “I like being married,” she said. Menakshi smiled at such a nice statement. “I just hope nothing changes once we’re married,” she replied with another grin. “I mean, things are really steamy and all.” Menakshi licked her straw suggestively, as though teasing it.

Priyanka shook her head. Menakshi elaborated, “We do it a lot, a real lot. Masood is, like, always wanting it.” Menakshi paused, then blurted out: “I want it, too.” The friends laughed. Inside Priyanka felt awkward. Her sex life was nothing to shout about, and she had little to add to this conversation.

However, she was curious, curious indeed. “So tell me, is Masood like really good in bed? Does the M&M’s couple match up well?” Priyanka often called Masood and Menakshi the M&M’s couple. The two were very much alike in temperament—sweet as candy. At Priyanka’s question, Menakshi could only lick her lips. She looked about, watching to see if others in the shop were listening. None seemed intent on the conversation. So she nudged in closer to Priyanka and spilled the beans. “Let’s just say he has a big tool and knows how to use it. It makes me feel so amazing. I could fuck all night long.” Menakshi settled back in her chair. She drank more iced coffee, and the smile on her face seemed permanent.

Priyanka, deep inside, was jealous. Masood was a pahadi guy from Himachal Pradesh with 6’3 height and amazing physique. Priyanka used to work with Masood in the past but later he quit fashion industry to focus on his carrer in fitness world, she knew how hot and muscular Masood is, she was jealous but also happy for Menakshi that she is getting satisfied on bed, while thinking all this she thought she and Samarth were not so

compatible in bed. The friends hit the clothing shop next, then Victoria’s Secret. They had a ball picking colors and props for Menakshi’s upcoming soon to be  girl party and, of course, clothing for the big night.

* * * *

The night had come, and Samarth was nervous. He was roaming in the kitchen, cleaning and picking things up and putting them back in place. His wife was changing upstairs. How could he explain such a wild idea to his wife? He went into the hallway, where he continued to pace up and down.

Priyanka came down the stairway, happy as can be. “Oh honey, what is it you have been dying to talk to me about?” She was calling out to him, still out of view. Then Samarth saw his wife. She wore Capri, her butt was looking so much amazing, with the blue bra. These were Victoria’s Secret, a brand Priyanka had always adored. Her proud breasts stood high, and with her long black hair tied back from her face, she looked adorable. “Hey,” she said.

The couple stood face to face. Samarth looked her in the eyes and changed his mind and retreated to the living room. She was quick to follow. Together they sat down on the couch, and she cuddled up to him. Herhead rested on his lap and her pretty eyes gazed upward. “Sam, tell me what you’ve been wanting to say.” Samarth hesitated but decided he had no choice. This had to be said. She popped up and kissed him, still lighthearted. Samarth sat her up and made it clear that he was serious. In the twenty minutes that followed he said it all. Priyanka said not a word. “I want you to have fun,” he said, over and over. She could live it up. He knew she needed more sexually. Why not explore? She stayed silent. He wanted her to say something. He kept going. “I never thought about swinging, Priyanka. It was the last thing on my mind.” He got up to get a bottle of water.

Priyanka followed his movements with a clueless expression. “Please grab me one, too,” she said. He sat back down with her. “I love you so much,” he said. “I only want the best for us, darling. If we think the scene is stupid, we can drop it and pretend like it never happened.”

Priyanka was dumbstruck. How could a man who claimed to love her so much be willing to do something like that? Having sex with other people was serious business. They were married, after all. They had vows, words that committed them to each other alone. The pretty, twenty nine year old wife sat frozen, assailed by conflicting emotions. How could he ask this of her? She wanted to say, Are you crazy? How can you even offer to make me available to others?

She had been preparing a “you’re nuts” speech, but what came out of her mouth was something else entirely. “I guess, Sam, if this is something you want, and if you think it could make our marriage better, I’ll try it. Just this once.” She could not believe what she had just said. She thought of Menakshi and her hot sex life. The hung bf who gave her all she desired. Perhaps she, Priyanka Tiwari, could experience such longing, such splendor. Samarth was shaking inside. His beloved wife had said yes. She had said yes! His world was about to be turned upside down.

[samcuck2]

Fabulous update! I loving it!
hoping that this will be quite dissimilar from the others in this category.

I kindly request that you take this story to its conclusion, and not abandon it halfway through.

Keep it up.

Yeah I will complete this story....I read a erotic western novel and that inspired me to write this story. You can say it is an Indian adaptation of that story.

[samcuck2]

Thank u so much for such beautiful narration,
Loved your way of writing and realistic approach.
Just keep updating new episodes and keep it in full swing and make the plot more innocent and shy kind of amateur swing for Priyanka

Thank u so much, thanks to the original writer of the story, I really liked his style of narration and thought there should be an Indian story on the same theme.

[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.”

[samcuck2]

This is just my opinion...story is an Indian adaptation, right?
I feel like it would've been cooler if the black guy was actually Indian guy (with all quality and features of a Bull). We could've got a bit of desi flavor from it.

I agree it could have been a Indian guy but there is a kink for black guys in Indian society too...

[samcuck2]

Part 5

Samarth dragged his feet as he made his way slowly over to the table. His mind was whirling, but he couldn’t put a finger on what he was thinking or feeling. It was all happening too fast. He was about to ask this african guy—a stud—to join his wife and him. Then what?

Is this guy going to fuck my wife? Maybe this was all a dream. He closed his eyes to try and block out the all the noise and ended up bumping into another guy. “Sorry,” he said, opening his eyes again. He would just have to go with it, whatever “it” was. At the table he put his hand on Yusuf’s shoulder. “Um ... ah ... could I speak with you in private?”

The tall african man stood up, towering over Samarth. “Sure,” he said.

The two walked far enough away from the table to be out of music. “I don’t know how to say this,” Samarth said. “Priyanka ... my wife ... thinks you’re, uh, great-looking. Would you by any chance be will-, I mean, interested, in joining us in our room? I don’t know if you have plans or—”

“Well, well,” Yusuf said, with a smile at his lips, “that dress on her tight little body sure has my mouth watering. What exactly are you offering here, Samarth?” Samarth swallowed hard. The guy knew Sam was uncomfortable and didn’t seem inclined to make this task any easier. “I mean,” Yusuf went on, shifting his feet to assume a more swaggering stance, “are you asking me to come to your suite, undress your hot wife, and fuck her hard?”

Samarth knees just about gave out, as Yusuf’s words hit home, rocking his world. He caught himself on the chair, nearly sitting it, as the man loomed over him, still managing to keep a straight face, more or less. Was that really what he was asking? “Um, yes, I guess so,” he heard himself say, “ah, I guess it’s ... it’s what she wants.”

The african man was enjoying the banter. “You think she can handle a man like me, Samarth?”

Samarth was taken aback. Was the guy mocking him? Probably. Think of Priyanka, he reminded himself. This is about her. The words tumbled out, “She’s very sexual and can handle a lot.” 

“Oh really,” Yusuf laughed. “Can she handle a ten-inch fat circumcised cock, one that goes all night? I’ll bang her off the walls, my friend.” Samarth was dizzy. How much alcohol has he consumed? No, this wasn’t about being drunk. In some sick way, the guy’s words were turning him on. What the hell was he doing? He took a step to walk away, but then heard more words come out of his own mouth. “She always wants more from me, and I can’t ... she craves more ... a deeper satisfaction.”

Yusuf got right to the point, “Oh is that so? Well, I must say, I’m honored to be the chosen one. However, the couple I’m with are my dates for the night. I’ve been providing a ‘deeper satisfaction’ for Sakshi over there for almost two years now. She, too, wants more than her pathetic husband can give.”

Samarth heart sank. Here he was humiliating himself, and he still wasn’t going to get Yusuf for Priyanka. He tried to act if it was no big deal, and the two parted with a friendly handshake. Samarth headed back to his anxiously waiting wife.

“Honey,” he said, “the guy was tempted, but he’s already been ... claimed for the night. He did call you ‘mouth-watering’ ...” At the compliment, Priyanka’s lips parted. Her little gasp of passion soon turned into a sigh of disappointment.

Just then Prashant and Muskan butted in. “Okay you two,” Muskan said, “our suite is waiting for some wild sexy couples’ party play. Let’s get a move on.” She grabbed Priyanka’s hand and the four left the party. A silence fell over them as they made their way to Prashant and Muskan’s room. Samarth was so preoccupied with what had just happened that he didn’t think to suggest they take a protection(condom).

Once they were at the suite, Prashant made drinks and turned the music up high—more pop music from the 80s and 90s. After two drinks on top of all the wine he’d drunk earlier, Samarth started to experience the scene through a surreal haze.

Another couple…I think they were south Indian—short but attractive enough had entered the suite. Had someone turned up the heat? Everyone but Samarth had stripped down to their underwear. They were touching each other casually, smoothing fingertips down arms, sliding arms around waists. Light kisses were followed by a deep, merging of tongues. Priyanka was no different, she was peeling off her bra to reveal her perfect breasts. Samarth shut his eyes. Oh God ... he was going to have to perform in front of four other people.

The South Indian couple was already completely naked. He was a solid guy with a dark tan. His hot wife was sucking his thick cock before all their eyes. Her face was ordinary, but her body was smoking, especially her two big melons down in front. Kneeling on the floor, she slurped at his fat cock with almost theatrical enjoyment, murmuring words like, “Oh, that’s so good ... that’s it, fuck my mouth ...”

His cock jutted straight out, flowing in the air, as she escorted him next to the armchair. He sank back into the chair, and she mounted him, guiding his cock in and riding him hard.

Meanwhile Prashant was stripping off Muskan’s frilly white thong to reveal a neatly groomed pussy.  She’s a real swinger, Samarth thought blearily, wishing he hadn’t drunk those last two martinis. The next thing he knew, Priyanka was kissing him passionately, thrusting her tongue deep into his mouth.

They were rolling on the king-sized bed next to Prashant and Muskan. What do I do now? Samarth thought, feeling his mouth go dry. Priyanka rolled away from him and latched on to Muskan. The two kissed. Holy shit this party is getting crazy, Samarth thought. Muskan pulled down Prashant’s underwear and pulled out his cock. He was larger than Samarth by at least two inches. The thickness, too, was impressive. Muskan licked his balls for a few minutes, then turned, smiling, to Priyanka. “Now, you,” she said. Priyanka’s head lowered onto Prashant, and both girls licked and sucked, tongues and lips occasionally meeting. Samarth, awed by the scene, started to forget his own self-consciousness. Prashant’s eyes were rolling back in his head as he gasped and urged them on: “Yeah, baby, do it, oh God, yes, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck ...”

The couple on the chair had turned up the volume, momentarily distracting Samarth from the two voracious girls. They had a free-loving fuck going on; the girl tossed her head about, long dark hair flying everywhere. She rode his man’s cock with such fury that their movements were a blur. On the bed Muskan could not hold off any longer. She pulled Prashant onto her and thrust his thick cock inside. He buried his face in her hair then found her face, planting kisses on her cheeks and lips and exploring her mouth with his tongue. Muskan grasped his ass cheeks and urged him to fill her, grunting and moaning all the while.

Priyanka was circling her fingers around her nipples, making them stand out, large and protruding. Samarth took them in his mouth one at a time, sucking, pulling, and nibbling while his wife moaned in pleasure. Things had gotten so crazy. Priyanka suddenly sat up and looked her husband in the eyes. They both seemed to wake up at that moment. She hugged Samarth and kissed him with more affection than passion. They shared a laugh.

“Sam, I think we should head to our own room,” Priyanka whispered. Samarth, who had finally gotten into the spirit of the action, almost said no way. But he also knew he’d never be able to perform in this public situation. “I love you,’ he told his wife. He took her hand and helped her off the bed.

 The other couples didn’t appear to notice as they took their clothing from the piles strewn around the room and quickly put it back on. “Thanks guys,” Samarth called out as he opened the door for Priyanka. “It’s been fun, but we’re going to have a personal party in our room.” They were out the door in a flash.

Priyanka had stripped Samarth naked almost before the door to their room shut behind them. On fire, she sucked his small penis near room gate. She shrugged off her own clothes, and Samarth kissed her neck and licked her everywhere. They kissed and kissed.

“I want you so bad,” Priyanka cried out. “This night has been so fun, honey.”

Samarth, relieved to find that he was hard, mounted his wife and pushed in. She was very wet and hot. “Oh baby,” Priyanka moaned. “Take me, Sam, take me.” Samarth had never been so excited. The party and the nakedness in the other suite had fired him up. He could hardly contain himself. Priyanka latched on and would not let go. “Don’t stop,” she cried out. “Give it to me, deeper, harder, don’t stop. I love you, Sam, oh God, I’m so horny ...”

 Samarth came. He could not last any longer. Priyanka, still semi-drunk, howled in fury. “Are you fucking kidding me?” she screamed. She got up off the bed and stomped around the room. Samarth was humiliated and suddenly sober. “I’m sorry honey,” was all he could say.

His wife was still fuming. She grabbed a pillow from the couch and tossed it at Samarth. “For God’s sake, Sam, we just started. I want sex, I wanna fuck! It’s bad enough your cock is a little weenie, but at least fuck me for five minutes with it.” What should I do? thought Samarth. Should he go to the other suite and ask one of the men to come back and satisfy his wife? She really did needbetter sex. She needed it to last longer and she needed to taken, really banged, he thought.

“I need a cold shower,” Priyanka said, disappearing into the bathroom. Desperate to please his wife, Samarth knew he had to find her a stud—tonight. He dressed and left the room. People still roamed the hallway, but he found no one of interest. He wished he knew where to find Yusuf. The tall black african guy would be perfect. Perhaps he had finished doing his buddy couple. From a fellow swing party guest, he learned about the rooms that were available to all partygoers at this late hour. In these open rooms, people could play or just watch.

Beyond the open doors Samarth found mostly older couples and a few single guys frolicking about. The men were pounding into these older, slightly overweight women. Seeing nothing that he desired for his Priyanka, Samarth left and continued to wander about the hotel. He was amazed at how casually these swingers engaged in sex and flaunted their nudity. He was wracked with guilt. He had failed his wife. He found no one in the halls, lounge, or anywhere. It was too late now. He went back to his suite. He joined Priyanka in bed and faded off to sleep, unaware that she was masturbating. A black stud’s handsome face was the last thing Priyanka saw as she, too, finally drifted off to sleep.

* * * *

In the morning Priyanka, fully sober, sat her man down for a heart-to- heart talk. “I’m sorry, Sam, about last night. With all the drinking and partying and people ... You know I love you, right?” Samarth hugged her. “It’s okay baby. I’m fine. It was a wild evening.” Priyanka reached out and held both his hands. “I love you will always love you. We’ve been through so much. Nothing can change that. I know you thought this swinger stuff could enhance us lives, but to be honest all we really need is each other.” She leaned in to kiss him.

They packed up and headed to the elevator. “I want ice cream,” she said. “I crave ice cream!” He laughed, telling her to be patient. They would find a place to buy her ice cream on the drive home. Walking down the hallway, he sang, “Ice cream, ice cream, we all party for ice cream.” Samarth and Priyanka laughed all the way to the elevator. While Samarth paid for their room at check-out, Priyanka noticed Shivam from the night before coming toward them. He was the older husband with the pretty hot wife and “hot” black stud lover who had sat with them early in the evening.

“Hello Priyanka,” he said walking up to her. “It’s Shivam, remember? We met last night.”

 “I remember,” Priyanka said. “I was hoping to catch you before you left. I guess you are a model, Am I right?" Priyanka nodded in yes. He pulled out a business card and handed it to Priyanka. “There are not a lot of models that look like you. Those people run a very special service you should know about.”

She tried to pass the card back to him. “I’m not sure what you’re offering,” she said. “Samarth and I are not really swingers.”

He nodded. “I understand. But take it anyway. You might change your mind. They run an elite swinger model escort service. I mean, top of the line. You could make megabucks. A gorgeous sexy woman like you would be a goldmine for them.” Priyanka shook her head no. “It’s not really for me Shivam, but thank you.” Again she tried to give it back, but he waved her off. Not seeing a waste can nearby, she tucked the card in the side pocket of her purse and watched as Shivam made his way out the front glass doors of the hotel. Samarth joined her. “What was that all about honey?” “Oh nothing,” she said. “He was just saying hello and all.” Thus ended Samarth and Priyanka’s first ever experience in a swinging lifestyle. While getting into the vehicle, Priyanka pulled a card out of her purse, dislodging the business card. It found a safe, hidden spot beneath the seat of the car.

* * * *

A week later, Samarth was coming after giving a interview in a company when tragedy struck. A van, running on red light, had smashed into his car. He was rushed to the hospital. The situation was not good. Priyanka and the entire family waited in the hospital lounge. Few words were spoken and many tears were shed as they waited for some message of hope. The doctor finally arrived. Priyanka held her breath. “Samarth is going to make it.”

The entire room let out a sigh of relief. The doctor pulled Priyanka aside. “Samarth has suffered severe trauma. He has injuries to his body and head.” The doctor hesitated. Priyanka’s heart sank. “I need to explain this in much further detail, Priyanka. It would be best if you actually come up to my office where we can talk in full privacy.”

In his office, the Doctor continued the conversation. “I have to be up front about this,” he said. “The main injury is to the lower part of the body Shaking and crying, Priyanka asked, “What does that mean?” “The consequences of lower body injury vary depending on the type, level, and severity of injury,” the doctor explained. “It appears that Samarth has suffered a complete injury. His function below his waist level is lost.

“Oh my God,” Priyanka cried out. She nearly fainted. She could not stop crying.

The family was devastated. They were told that less than thirty percent of people with “complete” lower body injuries recovered. That morning Priyanka sat staring at the paperwork. In addition to loss of sensation and Dysfunction of the bowel and bladder. Sexual dysfunction. Loss of breathing capacity, Spasticity (increased reflexes and stiffness of the limbs). Osteoporosis (loss of calcium) and bone degeneration.

The list and paperwork went on and on. She could read no more. Several pages covered the use of drugs, listing all sorts of medications. Another page concerned occupational therapy. Priyanka could not stop crying. She thought her life would never be the same.

[samcuck2]

Part 6
The last year had been hell on earth. I was like a child or a needy, helpless little old man. Before my accident, I was healthy and in shape. I used to played badminton and worked out at the gym. I felt like a good man. I had my M.Tech degree and everything was looking up. Now I struggled every day just to stay positive. Initially it looked as if I would lose all lower body function, but the one blessing in all this was that my injury was inflicted just below the hip. My arms, shoulders and hands were reluctant participants, but they were not completely useless, and there was hope for further healing the nerves had not been severed. My understanding was that the key was to relieve the pressure and hope for further healing. I could do simple tasks, but I exhausted easily, and I was clumsy beyond belief.

My gorgeous wife had been all too kind. She took care of me and was now the only moneymaker in our household. Sometimes I felt worthless, but I had to keep the hope. She had hired a nurse a few months earlier, and Anita was helping with everything. So things were now a little easier for Priyanka. The worst part was that I just couldn’t get around by myself. I couldn’t even wash myself. It was so embarrassing. I was also bored, stiff. I hoped at least to be able to work from home someday, but at the moment everything was on hold. Another major issue: our sex life was non-existent. I couldn’t get an erection and might never be able to again. My young, nearly 30 year-old wife had no real man to make love to her. This, above all else, broke my heart and spirit. I had to put it out of my mind. We had enough problems. The bills were adding up and the insurance covered too little. We were about to lose our home, and I had no clue what would come next. We could lose our vehicles.
Priyanka had needed to get a work a lot. Her modelling career was okay, but now she was working on the weekends as well. She was so tired, but we had no other choice. I was waiting for my light hug and kiss. I got this every day before Priyanka went to the work. She leaned into me and whispered in my ear, “I hope your day was okay, dear.” She kissed my cheek and turned to leave. “I have a busy night as a fashion week was starting. “I hope you get some rest.”
I couldn’t help but wonder about all the guys that must hit on her at that fashion event. It made me a little sick. She was so pretty and fit. She deserved the attention, at least. Where the heck had my life gone?

[samcuck2]

Part 7

It being Saturday, Priyanka was around and about the house. Anita, our home healthcare nurse, fed me a decent breakfast and later helped bathe me. Even as she ran a washcloth over it, my little shriveled penis stayed flaccid—as usual. No sensation at all. Anita was friendly, and I thought she was attractive enough that I might get hard if this torn body would allow it. She was in her late thirties and slightly overweight, but her face was pleasant, her hair healthy looking and brownish—not too much gray. She had a shapely round ass, and her tits were pretty big. As she leaned over me, she thrust them only a few inches from my face, and I couldn’t help wishing life had not dealt me such a hard hand.


ANITA

Priyanka was doing her makeup before going to work this evening. After getting cleaned up, I was wheeled into the kitchen. There she stood, braless, and her thick nipples visible through her tank top. She loves to be braless. Her denim shorts were looking good on her ass. She was holding a small white plastic bag.



She smiled and said, “You look better today, honey.”
I asked “Car all clean?” “Yeah, I’m just getting rid of all the junk that’s collected in the glove compartment and under the seats.” She tossed the bag in a nearby wastebasket. But she still had something in her hand. A card. She was about to toss it, but then she said, “I found this under my seat. Do you remember Shivam from the swingers’ party last year? He gave it to me as we were leaving. The card has been there for a year.”
I asked her to bring it over to me. “It’s just junk, hun,” she insisted. “I’ll throw it out.” She dropped it into the wastebasket. “We need to talk about the bills,” she said. “If we keep putting off the hospital bills, I think I can manage the others. For now. But it’s been tough,” she added. “I don’t know how long I can keep up this schedule.”
I hated these talks. Over the next hour we went back and forth, debating how we were going to manage without me working. Before we knew it, we were both raising our voices.
“I’m working 70 hours a week,” she said. “Sometimes I’m up until 5 a.m. doing some irrelevant shoots. I can’t do this forever.” I can’t do this forever was becoming her mantra. I felt horrible and so did she.
“We need to win a lottery,” I said, knowing how stupid that sounded. My wife smirked at me, too frustrated to respond. Little did I
realize that my ridiculous statement was the trigger that would start us off on the next phase of our lives.
* * * *
After she got home that evening, sometime after midnight, Priyanka must have dug through the trash and retrieved Shivam's card. The next morning I saw it on the shelf near the bed. It was Anita’s day off and we again faced each other at the table in the kitchen. Priyanka said nothing while she helped me eat my breakfast. As she wiped my mouth, I had to ask, “I see you took that card out of the trash?”
She nodded, sipping her orange juice and tapping her fingers on the table. Then she stood up, and I noticed how cute she looked in her green shorts and green tank top.



She picked up the card. “When you talked about the lottery yesterday, I remembered that conversation with Shivam. He said that I
could earn good amount,’ that a woman like me would be a ‘goldmine’ for these people.”
She sat and we just stared at each other. The card lay between us on the table. It read, “EMSE, A service for the Adventurous.” Other than that, it contained nothing but a phone number and email address. The silence stretched out. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore.
I blurted out, “What the fuck does EMSE mean, anyhow?” Priyanka’s voice was soft and gentle as she replied, “Elite Modelling Swinger Escorts.” I hung my head in thought. Was she serious about this shit?
She poured herself more coffee and walked back to look me square in the face. “After one of my photoshoot I plan to email them.” She waited for me to comment, but I said nothing. Without another word, she finished her breakfast and left the house. The rest of the morning and afternoon all I could think of was that card and the email she would write. Although the thought was worrying, it was also strangely exciting. I didn’t really believe she’d follow through, although I couldn’t wait to find out if she’d at least sent the email.
At 1 a.m. Priyanka had still not returned home. She must have many shoots again. Finally I drifted off to sleep.
* * * *
With some help from Anita, I can handle my own email correspondence. The week after Priyanka told me she was considering
emailing the swinger service, she had still not mentioned whether she had actually done so. After Anita set me up, I was able to search my wife’s sent email folder. She once told me her password and never changed it, so she either trusts me or has nothing to hide. The letter she wrote to EMSE read as follows:
I was handed this card a long time ago. The gentleman who gave it to me said I had the right look for your company. He mentioned that the pay was amazing, and I’ll admit that money is a major incentive for me right now. I am attaching a picture with this email and hope to hear more information at your earliest convenience. Thank you. Holy shit, my wife is a nut, I thought. In the picture, she was wearing
her sexy white saree with blouse smaller than bra.








She was fucking serious about this. But she’d chicken out once she heard more details, I was certain. Me ... In an odd way I was turned on by it all. Well, not literally, of course, but the idea excited me. At least I wasn’t quite so bored. I searched her inbox every day for the next several days. I had gotten a little better in my wheelchair as the time passed. I even found a way to do a few more things myself. Anita, my nurse, kept saying, “You will get better if you think positively, Samarth.” I kept her words in the back of my head day in and day out. Priyanka, though still overworked, was in a good mood most of the week. Late one night, she kissed me and even rubbed my chest. She too had noticed I was better. As bleak as it was, the whole situation had taken a turn for the better, and we all felt it.

She had the next night off for a change. She headed to bed. We had not slept in the same bed—not even the same room—since the accident. Having remained in the spare room by myself, I checked her email once again about an hour after she’d gone to bed. She finally had a reply from EMSE.
Hello Priyanka,
Thank you so much for contacting the EMSE. Our policy is that if anyone gives out our card, the person who receives it is taken seriously. That said, your picture is also delicious. The only way to truly inform you about our services and what would be expected of you is to meet in person. I will say this, however: you could probably make more money in one or two days than you are making now in a month. We have scheduled an appointment for you with a local representative in your city and state. Please arrive at 2:00 p.m. on this coming Saturday at the following address: —Be well, The EMSE Team
The next day, unaware that I had already read her email, Priyanka had printed it out for us to discuss. We discussed it at length, cried together and argued. Our emotions were all over the map. “I love you and always will,” she told me, time after time. Those words would ring in my ears for quite a while. But what she said afterwards would never go away: “Sam, I need sex, plain and simple. I’m too young to give it up forever.” “This is not just about sex, Priyanka,” I yelled. “The whole idea is downright dangerous.”
But she wouldn’t listen to reason. “If I can be successful at this,” she said, tears streaming down her face, “we would be able to pay the emi of this house and your medical bills easily.” That evening we went at it again—the same arguments, the same retorts. It was almost Saturday, the day of her appointment, and there was no time to spare. Wearing nothing but a lavender bra and panties set—the panties thong style—my wife made her way to the spare room. “Samarth, I promise I will be careful. In fact, why don’t we try and include you in the work?” She leaned down to kiss my cheek. I was unable to say anything.
How could I let my beloved bride, my young precious wife, be a swinger alone in the dark of night? An escort?
She got up on the bed and pressed her crotch into my face. “Lick me, my love,” she demanded. “I want more affection, more sex.” She slid her thong aside and my mouth probed her excited pussy lips. I did my best with my tongue, licking it about her clit. She was quickly aroused and panting. She grabbed my head and held on tight. ‘This is what I miss,” she whispered. “I need this, desire this. Oh honey, make me scream.” I could not breathe, yet kept going. She was wet, burning for my mouth. This small effort on my part had inflamed my wife. Perhaps I should agree to her new job, I thought. I loved seeing her like this. She was sexy and had a horny look on her face that said, I love sex. This was enough to make me try harder both at eating her lovely swollen pussy lips and, yes, giving her my
blessing to be an escort model.
“I’m coming,” she exploded. “Oh yes, Sam, you have me, you have me, oh yes, yes, yes!” She collapsed on the bed. Soon she snuggled up to me, and we held each other. “Sam, no matter what happens, let’s try and go through it together,” she said. “I just want you happy”
“Priyanka, I can handle it. Just look what I have to handle every day.” She squeezed my arm even tighter. Looking up at me with her big,
puppy dog eyes, she added, “I want you involved. I want you to travel with me, be a major part of the encounters.” She lay her head down now and we drifted off. We traveled away to another reality where our lives could be the way they used to be.
* * * *
Priyanka was tired. When Saturday finally arrived, she had just worked two hours. I arranged for the SUV to be adapted for a wheelchair; I hadn’t traveled in vehicle since the accident. The setup would be ready in a few weeks. Priyanka had the day off and cleaned the house. Anita came by to wash me; she also helped Priyanka clean. No one said much all day. I made the arrangements for the wheelchair access, settling on the proper lift via the company’s website. They came over later in the day to take measurements. We arrived at the point where she needed to dress and prepare for the EMSE meeting.
Priyanka showered and started to apply her makeup. Her black hair was getting longer and turning brighter in the summer sun. She had an amazing body and looked awesome buck naked in the mirror. Who wouldn’t want a hot model like that, right? Man I wished I had my cock back. Even my little dick would have sprung to life at what I saw in the mirror. She slipped into a blue denim and a white top. She accessorized the outfit with high heels. She was lovely. She assured me that, once home, she would recount everything in great detail. As she left the house for the meeting, I peered out the window, missing her already. I wished I could masturbate. But I had to experience my sexual agenda in my head now.