Adultery Rain by QuantumTruth11

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Story :- Rain

Written by QuantumTruth11

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Intro: This is a truish short story with a bit of added spice. It is written in first person and involves an Indian American (me) and an Indian. So, if that is not your thing, I'd still suggest you to be openminded and read it. Lol. Be warned that this story comes under adultery between two consenting adults.

Foreign/unfamiliar words:

Varsha -- means rain in Sanskrit.

Bhayya -- means brother -- but can be used colloquially, usually towards older males.

NRI -- Non-Resident Indian.

Dowry -- It's a common practice in India, despite the age-old laws against it. Its entrenched in the culture and people don't think much of it unless the woman is really being harassed.

VPN -- Virtual Private Net -- Can allow you to imitate an IP address that is different from your actual location.

Salwar -- Indian female clothing. Google it :P.

*****

[Ramesh_Rocky]

I am a thoroughly whitewashed Indian. Not because I dislike my culture but because it is hard not be Americanized when you've surrounded by white friends since sixteen; through high school, undergrad, masters and a couple of years after that. My favorite music is alt rock and Beethoven, and I wear polos and khakis. Yep, totally whitewashed. Did I say I played tennis?

I moved to a dusty but pretty, coastal city of India in the summer of 2016. I was 27 and very single. The weather was hot and languid, but the view of the sun's glaring reflection off the surface of a vast dark blue ocean, from the balcony of my air-conditioned condo, was breathtaking. I loved sitting on my wooden chaise in the verandah and read a book on my kindle, as I was buffeted by the cool evening breeze that swept around the nearby hills and blew parallel to the rocky beach.

I am not going to say what I did for a living, but I had a flexible work schedule and I could be considered well off, though not rich enough to drive an Audi or a BMW.

Dinesh and Varsha moved into my neighboring condo a couple of months after I moved in. The ten-storied apartment complex was new, and the flats were quickly being sold to young rich doctors or successful IT professionals. I rented mine from an NRI, but Dinesh and Varsha bought theirs.

They were a newly married couple; Dinesh 30 and Varsha 26. Dinesh had done his master's in computer science from USC and after saving some money, working in the Silicon Valley, he decided to move to India and begin a startup. The dowry from his arranged marriage also helped in setting up his company.

Dinesh was an interesting contrast of character. He was quite open minded in a lot of things yet possessed an old-fashioned traditional outlook towards life. We quickly became friends. The shared back-ground helped and he was also comfortable with my accent, which was oftentimes perceived as snobbish by some.

Only a few inches over five, Varsha was a small woman. However, she was well endowed, and her petite frame helped in highlighting it. With long locks of curly black hair, large sparkling brown eyes, thick lashes that curved against gravity and a small button nose, she was a pretty woman.

But initially, I had no interest in her. Years of being whitewashed had changed my taste in women to white and yellow. All Indians are my brothers and sisters -- a part of the national pledge we used to repeat in school days, had become my motto.

Varsha was quite comfortable around me, despite her husband's and her own presumed traditional mindset. Indian women have strange comfort zone around men younger than them, even if it is only by a single day -- something about women not marrying younger men.

The couple had somehow come under the impression that I was at most 25. Despite my well-built body, my boyish looks didn't help. I did not have a six pack, nor did I ever want one, but years of martial arts and sport had given me a prominent musculature. At 5'9, I wasn't a small person in India, especially beside Varsha.

"Vicky!" she used to come knocking around lunch time, if I was around, with a homemade lunch of rice and curries. She was a damn good cook and she somehow always knew when I was around. Sometimes we ate together, and soon we formed a bond. She was talkative and I was a good listener, and in her endless babble I realized that there was a lot more to her than the bright-eyed naivety she donned in front of her husband.

However, Vicky changed to 'Bhayya' after my parents came over for a visit. My mum is as talkative as Varsha and my age was the least of the things that Varsha came to know about me. Once my parents left, she still came to offer me lunch, but she stopped sticking around.

And I began to miss my time with her. Our conversations had never been deep, but they were fun, flighty and uninhibited. We had talked about the silliest of things: stuff we did as children, my impressions of America as a sixteen-year-old, how she loved to get drenched in the rain but no longer could, and so on. They had always brought joy to my heart and removed the heaviness from other things I had going on in my life.

So, one Sunday morning at ten, I went and knocked on their door. Dinesh was away on a weekend trip and I wanted to use the chance to rekindle our friendship; My intentions were completely pure. I can't claim that I had never checked her out, but I am after all a man.

"Bhayya?" Varsha opened the door after a minute, drying her wet hair with a towel. Her large pretty eyes widened in surprise. I had never taken the initiative to seek her out when she was alone.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

"Hey Varsh. Have you cooked yet?" I asked her, trying to seem casual. I usually ate with the couple during the weekends. If we ordered food for delivery, it was on me. If Varsha cooked, it was on them.

"Naa. I was just about to start. Why? Do you want something particular?" she asked. She was sweet like that. Always trying to make something we wanted.

"Good! I have a craving for pasta. I know you liked the pesto sauce the last time we ordered Italian," I said, trying to sound like an enthusiastic younger brother. If it made her feel comfortable, I didn't mind putting on the persona. "Can we order some, please?"

"Er... sure. I didn't really feel like cooking, anyways," she replied in her thick but cute English accent. My Hindi wasn't the best, so we usually spoke in English.

"Awesome! Do you want to watch a movie or something until then?" I asked, not giving her a chance to get rid of me.

"I guess so. Come in," she replied, making way for me to enter.

The tech savvy Dinesh had hooked up his flat screen TV to Netflix and a VPN to replicate a US IP address. Netflix had recently come to India, but the Indian version did not have access to all English movies.

So, we hung out together and watched 'Bridesmaids', laughing our asses off at the antics of the characters. And by the end of the day, the wall Varsha had built up slowly started crumbling.

***

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Days went by and Varsha still called me 'Bhayya' but our friendship had returned to our previous comfort. Dinesh seemed to be aware of it, but he didn't really seem to mind or harbor any doubts. Not that our behavior ever indicated a need such doubts.

"Are you a virgin?" Varsha suddenly asked me during one of our lunch 'dates' when Dinesh was not around. It came out of nowhere and surprised me out of the chicken leg I was gnawing on. Sex or anything to do with had never been involved in our conversations. It was almost forbidden.

"What?" I exclaimed as heat began to rise in my ears. I had never been overly conscious about such things, but it was different with Varsha and Indian women.

"Are you a virgin?" she asked again. A blush began to creep up her cheeks, but she did not avert her gaze.

"No. Far from that," I replied, unable to figure out where it was going.

Varsha nodded, rather gave me the Indian bob of her head, seemingly satisfied with my answer. "Do you think Dinesh was, before we married?"

"Varsh. I don't know," I replied honestly. "Even if I did, you should know that I would've said the same."

Varsha bobbed her head again, taking a finger to her lips and biting on her nail in contemplation. She was a quick eater and she had already finished her food and washed her hands. "I was a virgin. You know... before we married. I really need to know if Dinesh was."

"You really should talk to Dinesh about that. Asking his friends is not a good idea... But why does it even matter? I would've thought that you were above such old fashioned views. Are you afraid that he is going to cheat on you? I really don't think Dinesh is the type, even if he wasn't a virgin before," I said, trying to give a quick but harmless conclusion to the topic.

"You don't know that. Besides, I am not asking because I care about his virginity. I just think he is a hypocrite sometimes. He always talks about purity and such nonsense, but I know he's had girlfriends in the US. Anyways, I am sorry about putting you in a spot. I won't ask you such things again," she said in a pout, her ears and eyes flaring in anger.

"Varsh," I said to her after a moment of consideration. She was a good friend and I didn't want leave things at that, despite my discomfit. "You can talk to me about anything, and I will always lend you my ear. But please don't ask me things that Dinesh may tell me in confidence. It is not going to do any of us any good."

***

[Ramesh_Rocky]

I don't usually smoke, but I need a drag at times. I went out for a smoke that evening and I heard shouts from their condo. It went on for a while before I heard a loud smack of their front door. I presumed Dinesh had left.

Contemplating for a moment, I jumped over the railing that separated our two balconies. I peeped in through the glass doors and found Varsha weeping on their sofa. She seemed unharmed, so I chose to go back. I wanted to comfort her but didn't want to make things worse if Dinesh decided to return.

***

Neither Varsha nor Dinesh discussed their spat with me, but Varsha stopped calling me Bhayya from that day onwards. She just called me Vicky, even in the presence of her husband. I wasn't sure if it was to piss him off or if she was just tired of the façade behind the word. Nevertheless, I didn't ask her, nor did she talk to me about it.

Although my friendship with them wasn't adversely affected, I could tell that their relationship was under strain. Dinesh spent more time away from home and Varsha spent more of her free time in my company, and our friendship blossomed even more; Almost to the point that I sometimes felt that Varsha saw me as a female friend, discussing things like how she was on the pill and such.

But my own feelings for her began to change. As I spent time with her, I began to notice her form: the twinkle in her eyes when she smiled; the sag of her heavy lower lip; the way she brushed her curls behind her ear; the ravine off her cleavage when she leaned forward; the gentle curves of her waist; and the width of her hips when she bent down.

And, when I woke up one night after a wet dream starring Varsha, I knew I was in trouble. I remember cursing myself, for she was a married woman and I had no interest such dramas.

So, when I came to know that I would be moving that April, my feelings were mixed. I was saddened that I'd be leaving my new friend, but glad that I could leave before my feelings towards her became even more intense. I had lived in the town for 9 months and known the couple for 7.

When I told them about my impending departure in three weeks, Dinesh's response was mixed but Varsha made her sadness evident. She spent even more time with me.

That weekend, Dinesh once again went away for a business trip and Varsha came over as soon as he left on Saturday morning.

"Pesto Pasta?" she chimed. Dinesh loved home cooked meals, despite being unable to cook himself. So Varsha loved ordering out when he wasn't around.

"Sure. Movie?" I returned.

"Yeah."

"Come on in then. I need to take quick shower. Pick a movie for me," I told her, leading her to my living room.

"Yeah sure," she said, flopping herself on my couch. She had become quite comfortable around me.

After my shower, I realized that I did not have any underwear in my room.

"Varsha! Do you mind if I come out in my towel? My underwear is the laundry," I shouted from behind the door.

"I don't care!" she shouted back.

I stepped out and noticed that she was looking at me. I gave her a smile and waddled my way across to the kitchen, where the laundry lady left my basket. I felt her eyes following me, but when I turned around with my trunks in hand, she was back to browsing on Netflix.

I cam back fully clothed and flopped down beside her. I only had a double couch and a chair, and I wasn't going to sacrifice comfort for prudish notions. Our shoulder brushed against each other and I felt her warmth through her clothes. She showed no inclination to move away.

We watched 'The Proposal', and as the movie ended, I noticed the slow drizzle of rain outside. Nostalgia of the past seven months set in as the concept leaving my beautiful friend sunk in. I walked up to the glass door and opened it.

An earthy smell wafted in, despite us being on the seventh floor. The humid breeze contrasted with the chill of my heavily airconditioned apartment.

I stood at the balcony entrance, gazing at the grey ocean, and Varsha came and stood beside me in silence. I suddenly remembered something she'd said a long time ago.

"Wanna go out and get wet?"

As if in response the drizzle turned into a downpour.

"Log kya kahenga? -- What will people say?"

"Let's go to the terrace. I am sure no one will be around," I said, turning to her.

She hesitated a moment before nodding.

We took the elevator to the tenth floor and climbed up the final set of stairs to the terrace. I boldly walked into the rain and the downpour quickly drenched my clothes. I turned around and gave her a smile, blinking to keep the water out of my eyes. Varsha held a hand against her forehead and hurried towards me.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Loud music flared from the streets below. Street music is a thing in India.

Woh Lamhe Woh Baatein. It was an old rain related song from my childhood; One of the few hindi songs I still listened to.

"This is such a terrible idea. I love it," her voice lilted in her accent.

The rain quickly seeped through her modest salwar, making it stick to her curvaceous body. I could see the clear outline of her bra and her fulsome breasts. Spurred by the music, I impulsively took her hand in mine and placed another on her waist.

She blushed but did not push me away.

I led her around in an unpolished waltz and she didn't seem to mind my clumsy footwork, as she followed.

"I need to teach you some Bhangra or something," she laughed. But soon the two of us were lost in the music and the unsteady flow of our bodies through the rain.

As the song came to an end, I twirled her around and pulled her in. Her body crashed into mine and her breasts pressed into my chest. She looked up, eyes wide in surprise, and I came to my senses.

"I am so sorry," I hurriedly said and tried to pull away from her, but she clutched onto my soggy shirt.

"Vicky... Do you like me?" she asked shyly, her eyes averting for a millisecond before coming back to mine. Another song began in the streets, but the music somehow went into the background as I simply gazed into her eyes. All I could hear was the pattering of the heavy raindrops.

Her rain drenched curly hair looked lustrous and her thick lashes were heavy with water. A big drop of water flowed down her forehead, ran down her nose crease and dripped down her upper lip. My eyes were pulled to her heavy reddish-brown lower lip as the droplet hung for a moment, before splashing on her chin.

I responded to her question the only way I could. I leaned down and kissed her.

She hesitantly sucked on my upper lip as I grasped her lower lip between mine and lightly ran my tongue across it, tasting her. I never felt lips so full and the sweet scent of her breath drove me nuts.

I pulled her closer and sought entrance with my tongue. She lightly parted her lips and I dove in for her tongue. She responded by meeting my tongue with hers and they rolled and intertwined as our lips devoured each other's.

It was only after the song ended that we remembered to breathe and pulled back gasping for breath.

"Compared to you, Dinesh is definitely a virgin," she panted with a wry look on her face.

In another world, I may have grinned at her compliment, but Dinesh's name brought me to my senses.

"Varsha. This is wrong. We shouldn't."

She looked at me and I gave her a sorrowful smile, letting her know my desire for her, and my inability to proceed further.

She studied me intensely before turning around and heading for the door. I quietly followed her, but contrary to my expectations, Varsha locked the door and turned around.

"Vicky... Do you remember the question I asked you a few months back?" she asked, leaning against the door and looking down. I remained silent and she continued, "I took your suggestion and directly asked Dinesh. Turns out he had a girlfriend in the US. Apparently, she is now married to some sorry sap who thinks she is a virgin. I made a ruckus that day even though I realized that I should be happy that he didn't lie to me.

For all his faults Dinesh is nice and truthful. But I am a terrible woman, Vicky," she said, tears leaking down her face. "I am jealous, and I hate him for having been with another woman. I tried, Vicky, but I can't reconcile with the fact. I have been treating him poorly for the past few months and I hate myself for it. The only solution I can think of is to sleep with another man."

"Varsh..."

"And you're the only one I could do it with, Vicky. Do you know why?" she asked, finally looking at my face. I could see the raw emotion in her now reddened eyes. The rain water merged with her tears and flew down in larger globules.

I shook my head, completely dumbstruck by her words.

"Because I think in another life, if I had met you earlier, I would've fallen in love with you. Maybe I already do."

Her confession hit me a like waterfall and I stared at her stupefied. I did not know how to respond, and I struggled with my conscience. I was quite liberal with my sexuality, but such egregious cheating was a step a below my bottom line. However, the look of extreme vulnerability on her face made me reach a decision. I knew her thinking was convoluted, but I understood the bipolarity it arose from. Maybe it would really help her.

"I would've loved to date you if you were single, Varsh," I told her honestly, and I saw her visibly cringe, expecting my rejection. I sighed and continued, "We can do this, Varsh, but only on one condition. This can be the only time and we should never talk about this if you plan on continuing your relationship with Dinesh."

Varsha nodded, looking almost relieved. But facing the fact that she was going to have sex with someone other than her husband, she suddenly lost all the confidence the movie seemed to have given her. She stood there awkwardly, glancing at anything but at my face.

So, I walked up and scooped her up in my arms. She was light as a feather, and I was strong. The size of my arms easily covered her biceps.

She gave a light squeal and clung onto my neck as I took her to the granite round table. I placed her on the table and pulled the parasol away, chucking its collapsed form to the side.

"For today, you're unmarried and dating me," I told her, lightly caressing her wet cheek. I sneaked my hand under her hair and pulled her towards me by her nape, kissing her again.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

She held on to my neck as my hands roved down her body, caressing and feeling her skin through her clothes. And her breasts! They were so damn big and soft.

Varsha had her knee against my groin and she felt my shaft lengthen, and her kiss became even more energetic. Needing more, I pulled back.

Her loose salwar was already down her pale shoulder, never touched by the sun, and I fumbled with the clothing, trying to pull it down.

"You take it of like a shirt," she giggled at my inability to remove such a simple piece of clothing. I was used to tops and skirts, but not these.

She grabbed the hems of her top and pulled it off, revealing her bra covered upper body. The bra I knew how to deal with. It only took me a moment to pull it off and throw it away.

Two large, fluffy breasts of perfect curvature and light brown nipples started back at me.

I almost fell on them but Varsha stopped me. "Let's get out of all our clothes," she ordered me, and I complied without complaint. But as we stood naked and our eyes roved over each other's bodies, I realized something.

"Condom!" I cried. I didn't have one.

"It's alright Vicky, I am on the pill and it is also on my safe day. So, unless you're carrying something, we should be good."

"Nope," I said quickly, before pouncing on her lithe form like a cat. My body enveloped her, but I didn't put too much weight on her.

I took her bugling breasts in my mouth and ravaged them with my lips, circling her wide areola and nipping at her elongated protrusions. She loved it and quickly started moaning.

Unable to wait any longer, I moved my shaft down to her slim brown crevice. I caressed the width of my member along its length and felt the tickle of her neatly trimmed pubes. I flicked her clitoris with my tip, and she squealed. But before I could take things further, she rose up and pushed me away.

"I heard you experienced folks need to be prepared. Blowjob?" she asked me coyly.

I didn't know if it was an act, but I wasn't going to correct her even if it wasn't. "Yep that's true. You need to get on you knees and suck my massive member. I was a little over six inches long, but my girth was a lot wider.

"So, get on the table," she told me.

Varsha pulled up a chair and I made myself comfortable on the cold surface of the granite. The heat from my arousal making it seem even cooler. I craved for the warmth of the body in front of me. "Oh my!" she exclaimed as she sat in front of me and observed my raging prick. Wet from the rain, her body shivered, either due to the cold or fear or guilt. "How do you put this in a real virgin?"

I simply shrugged.

She slowly leaned in and planted her plush lips on my uncircumcised tip, her lips barely covering its surface. I sucked in a deep breath as pushed down, stretching her lips and dragging them along my skin. It didn't seem like she was unfamiliar.

Her slimy tongue caressed my hole for a second, before it slid down my length. She looked at me with her almond eyes and gripped my member with her cheeks as she took it all the way to her throat.

I couldn't help but slide my hands through her hair and cover her ears as I pushed her head away. She dragged her lips over my skin and plopped it out of her mouth, saliva connecting her lower lip and my tip. Noticing the desire in my eyes, she went on it again.

Soon, she was bobbing her head over my prick, and the sounds of sucking and smacking lips played a duet with the sound of rain.

She blew me for a few minutes before I need more. I took her under her arms, our wet bodies colliding as I placed her on the table.

She lay their coquettishly, arms and legs curled. I opened her legs up and dove for her lower lips. The smell of the ocean pervaded my senses as I returned her favor. She was wet, slimy and flowing and I took her without inhibition; Playing her clitoris with my lips, flicking it with my tongue and lapping against her lips.

"Fuck me now!" she finally gasped, and I rose up to meet her lips.

I kissed her while teasing her entrance with my shaft, parting her lips but not actually penetrating.

"DO IT," she screamed at me when I flicked her clitoris with my tip.

I penetrated her in a single thrust and her back arched in my arms like a wave; Her mouth open in a lusty, silent gasp.

Ours was the tallest building around and there was no one to see us. But the concept of fucking out in the open with only the sky as our witness, titillated me to the extreme. Especially with the sharp rain drops constantly striking against our bodies and stimulating every inch of our skins. I was sure she felt the same way.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Once inside her, I didn't bother taking it slow. Both of us were being driven by our lust and her walls gripped me with a fervor I hadn't experienced in a long time.

I lay her full against the granite table and pressed myself onto her soft body, roughly grinding my groin -- feeling our pelvic bones and the springiness of our stomach. I felt her large and squishy breasts against my chest and felt her nipples chafe against mine as I kissed her and slowly rotated my hips.

After a moment, she broke our kiss and wrapped her arms and legs around my body, bringing my head to her neck. I wanted to suck on her skin, but I was sane enough to stop myself. I couldn't leave a hickey.

Instead, I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and began pumping into her as I raised my head to look into her glazed eyes. But her eyes were unfocussed, and her mouth lay open as she moaned continuously. The wet smacking of her hips, the timbre and pitch of her moans, and the splashes of rain, made better music than the one from the street below.

Finally, I felt the telltale signs of a female orgasm. Her body tensed and her fingers dug into my back. Her walls clenched and I felt her grow damper as she let out a tiny scream and shuddered.

A surge of electricity raced through my body and I tried to pull out, but she gripped me with her legs. So, I dug into her body and let go, releasing myself into her depths.

***

We went back downstairs, took a shower together -- in silence, and ate our Italian lunch. Varsha came back later that evening and we fucked again. I did say she was my girlfriend for the day.

However, as promised, things went back to normal the next morning, and we never spoke about it again. Varsha cooked Dinesh an elaborate meal when he returned, and their relationship seemed to improve over the next couple of weeks, despite the flashes of guilt that passed over Varsha's face whenever I was around.

We had a small party with friends, the day before I left, and Dinesh and Varsha accompanied me to the cab. I shook Dinesh's hand and Varsha came up to me before I got on.

"Goodbye Bhayya! Visit us when you can," she said, standing tip toe and planting a quick kiss on my cheek.

*****

Author's thoughts: I certainly don't think that what we did was right, but I do not know how bad it was. Either way, I guess most of you won't be reading this if you were averse to adultery :P. Regardless, I do believe that it is awful to intentionally hurt your loved ones, especially when they place their trust on you. So please don't use this story as a justification to cheat, whether you're a man or a woman.

Feel free to critique my writing and comment on my morality, but please don't go into a tirade about it.

If people like this story, I may have other's to tell.

Read the next part only if you're interested in knowing which part was made up.

1. We didn't actually fuck in the rain, and we went back to get a condom. But it is more risqué to write a bareback scene out in the open.

2. There was no blowjob involved.

3. Her real name isn't Varsha, but I thought it'd go well with the rain.

4. The dialogue is not exact. I can't remember the exact words that were spoken a couple of years back.