My Indian Wife Vidya

My name is Rajesh and I am married to my sweetheart Vidya. We have a one year old son Aakash and soon (in a month), we would be celebrating our sixth wedding anniversary.
It was past 10.30 at night, and my son was asleep in his room. Vidya was lying on the bed reading, and I was working on my laptop on a project.
“Oh my fat lover,” Vidya called out from the bed. “Leave your laptop and come here. I need a good lick and then a good fuck.”
That was one great thing I loved about Vidya. Sex with her was very efficient. She was explicit and blunt about her needs. A nymphomaniac by nature, she would tell you exactly what she wanted to you do — no hunting around for “subtle hints”.
“Yes, darling.” Obediently, I shut my laptop and stood up. Walking over and standing beside the bed, to her left, I started to undress. My shirt came off first, followed by my watch. I then reached down and unbuckled the belt. Rolling down my jeans to my ankles, I stepped out of my pants. Vidya caught hold of the waistband of my underpants, slowly pulling them down. My small penis sprang free and hit her in the face. She laughed, and continued to roll down my underwear until I was completely naked.

You see, one year into our marriage, Vidya had implemented the Clothed Female Naked Male policy. That meant that whenever we would retire for the night, or get into bed for sex, I would have to completely strip before I was even allowed to get into the bed. Vidya, on the other hand, could be wearing whatever she wished. Tonight, Vidya was wearing a pink negligee of translucent material, which covered her till her knees.
Let me briefly describe our physical appearances here. I am thirty four years of age, and Vidya is thirty two. I am your typical average height and built. Though physically healthy and fit, I have a paunch around my tummy area — that Vidya had recently started to make fun of. She would lovingly call me “Fatty, come here” or “Oh my fat lover, suck my vagina”, and so on. My penis isn’t anything to write home about either — Vidya calls it ‘small, cute and functional’. My wife, of course, has seen and played with much larger cocks than mine. I am a shy, introvert, bookish kind of guy who was a virgin until our wedding night.
Vidya, on the other hand, is my polar opposite. She remained completely physically fit, even after her pregnancy. She exercised religiously, and at 5’8″ was taller than most Indian women. She was very proud of her curves, with humongous breasts (28DD), wide hips, a broad ass, and a fleshy, milky white, well-toned tummy. And yes, to say she was sexually active before our marriage was understating it — her legs were open to anyone she fancied. Students, professors, janitors, labourers, accountants, and even a pujari — almost someone from every profession had deposited their semen in her cunt.
I snuggled against Vidya and hugged her tightly. My tongue found her lips and we kissed deeply, exploring each other’s mouths with passion. She moved her arms around my back, and slowly, gingerly, caressed my behind. Then she smacked my bum.
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
I started to slide against her body, slowly going down on her. My face came to her breasts, as I licked each nipple and sucked on them gently. She pushed my head down further as I inserted my tongue into her navel and covered her tummy with kisses. I rubbed my face against her inner thighs as her pubic hair hit my nostrils. She wasn’t wearing panties. My tongue flicked out as I started to lick her clitoris.
“Mmmmm… mmmm…” Vidya grabbed my ears with either hand and started to twist them, as she moaned and writhed with pleasure. “Oh, fatso! Keep doing it, my love, oh my!”
My face was now between into her thighs, and she was gushing like a waterfall. Each lashing of my tongue provoked further moans of ecstasy and secretions of her love juice. My face was now glistening with her dampness. I kept inserting my tongue into the folds of her vulva and swirling it around her love hole. With a final shriek, her body arched and she started to cum.
“OH MY GOD! OH YES! OH YES!” Gripping my head in a vice-lock with her thighs, and holding my ears firmly in her hands, Vidya bobbed up and down in the throes of her orgasm. Finally, after oozing out huge amounts of wetness, she subsided.
“Wow.” She remarked, finally catching her breath. “Good job, fatty. Come here. Let me reward you.”
I crept up her body. She cupped my wet face in her hands and kissed me. While I lay passively there, Vidya licked the base of my mouth and deep French-kissed me, rolling her tongue into me. Bending down one hand, she grabbed hold of my rigid shaft and started to stroke me.
“Ready to put your little dickie into use, darling?” She asked me, with a coy smile.
“Yes, dear.”
“Would you like to put your small wee wee into my pussy, dear, or my butt?”
“Whatever gives you the most pleasure, darling.”
Vidya seemed to consider my answer for a while, before she slowly raised her hand to my face and gingerly rubbed my cheeks. Grimacing, I got ready for what was coming.
SLAP!
SLAP!
SLAP!
Vidya slapped me again, and again, and again. My cheeks flushed bright red, partly from the pain, partly from shame as my Indian wife, who is supposed to respect her husband, slapped me endlessly. Finally, she decided I had enough, and then she made me slowly suck her nipples. Vidya then grabbed my hand and led it to her love tunnel. She was leaking again! Slapping me had gotten her off. I slowly fingered her to her second orgasm of the night. Writhing, thrashing around, she moaned until the peak of her sexual excitation subsided.
“Oh, honey!” She gushed, covering me with kisses at the exact same spot as where she had slapped me momentarily ago. “You are the best husband I could ever have wanted!”
“Thank you, Vidya.” I swelled with pride. I may have had a small penis, but I kept her happy.
“Most men I have been with have just used me as a piece of ass to pump their meat into.” Vidya was effusive in her praise. “Yet you! You are the most submissive husband I could have ever dreamed off. You give me pleasure, the way I want it, and you treat me gently, like a lady, not a slut, and you just obey, no questions asked.”
“Thank you, Vidya.”
Vidya continued to rub my penis up and down before answering, “Right now, as your reward for pleasuring me, you will get to fuck me, darling. Then, if you can get it up again, my husbandji, my ass is open for business.”
“Thank you, dear.”
Vidya sat up in bed. “Fatty, I will be right back.”
“Yes, dear.” I wondered what was up as Vidya got out of bed and walked over to the cabinet. As she opened the cabinet door, she jiggled her body so that her negligee slipped off her shoulders and onto the floor. Now the only piece of cloth remaining on her firm, juicy body was her bra.
“Honey, let’s watch this movie. You can cum in me after that.” Vidya had grabbed a DVD and inserted it into the player. She grabbed the remote and switched on the TV before flopping down next to me on the bed. “It’s the G and V show.”
“Oh,” I realized which DVD she had put in. “Is this the edited or the unedited one?”
Vidya grinned. “Uneditted.” She snuggled against me, one hand around my neck and one hand on my prick, and the video started to play.
A naked woman came on screen, her back to the camera. The view focused on her gyrating, fleshy buttocks. I knew who that woman was, of course. I have seen this video millions of times. It was Vidya, from two years ago.
The onscreen Vidya was now dancing to some music, swinging her expansive hips to the tune. The camera then showed a man, sitting on the bed, watching her. He was naked too. I also knew who this man was — he was my former boss, Gaurav.
Gaurav sat on the bed, in the buff, with a beer in his hand, watching my equally naked wife dance. We could see him stroke his hard, rigid, monster cock with one hand. He then leaned forward and smacked Vidya on her butt. It was a resounding smack, and the slap left a red handprint on Vidya’s left butt cheek. Non-plussed, she continued to dance.
“He really loved spanking my ass.” Vidya told me, as she nibbled my ear while we watched her get spanked, again and again and again, on the video. “Gaurav fucked me several times daily, and almost every time we had sex he would spank my buttocks. Oh, he was not gentle with me at all.”
On screen, Vidya was now gingerly rubbing her very sore, and very red, ass. She then turned back to look at the man who had just thrashed her ass — and manage a smile. Gaurav laughed cruelly and told her to get in position again — the spanking wasn’t over.
“He loved using me as a 50-rupee-whore.” Vidya told me, stroking my hardness, as her onscreen version lay over Gaurav’s knees while he raised a hand and struck her butt cheeks, again and again. “It was very exciting for him that you, his employee, was away working for him, he was in your house, in your bed — using your wife as a fuck toy and cum dump. Oh, the things he made me do in those 5 days!”
Gaurav then pulled her sharply to him and made her sit on his lap. His hands went to her breasts, pinching and kneading them, while he rubbed his hardness against her clit.
“Look how rough he was with me.” Vidya told me, “You are so tender, so gentle, and you listen to me and obey me. Whereas your boss pretty much used me like a rag doll, to serve him as he wished. If he wanted to spank me, I would bend over and present my bottom. If he wanted a blow job, he would snap his fingers and I would be at his feet, taking his cock in my mouth. And if he wanted to fuck me, he just grabbed me and did it — whether it was my cunt or my ass, he was a brute — a real man’s man.”
As she spoke, Vidya turned herself around. Her mouth was now on my dick, while her pussy was in front of my face. It was a classic 69 position. I kept licking her choot (cunt in Hindi) as she sucked my member into rigid hardness. Vidya was now cumming again. We both kept an eye on the video.
Gaurav now had Vidya on the bed, on her hands and knees, as he got behind her. He was going to ride her, doggy style. Once again, with her buttocks on display, he couldn’t help himself, and Vidya got a couple of sharp slaps to her ample derriere. The camera showed her grimace, but she held her position.
“If I moved, that was extra slaps.” Vidya told me, as her own screen version’s ass had crimson marks across it. Gaurav laughed, and then used his hands to part Vidya’s buttocks so that her asshole was clearly visible. He then spit into her ass a couple of times.
The man who used to be my boss then spit on his own hands and rubbed his monster dick. He was using his own saliva as a lubricant as he positioned the bulbous head of his cock against Vidya’s ass. Slowly, he started to push his huge rod inside her.
“Oh, Sir! My ass! Ooooh, it hurts, Sir! Aaaah!” Vidya cried out as Gaurav, with a firm grip on her buttocks, pushed his dick, inch by inch, into her ass. He repeatedly thrust in and out of her while Vidya continued to moan, half in pain, half in pleasure.
“Sir, please Sir, cum in me, oh Sir!”
Finally, I could see Gaurav’s butt cheeks clench, as emptied his cum into her.
Vidya got off my body, paused the video to a shot that showed her on screen version screaming in ecstasy, turned around to face me and asked, “Hubby, ready?”
“Yes.” I answered her, my cock erect.
Vidya lied down on her back and spread her legs. I climbed over her, and in one move plunged my hardness into her. I was completely aroused seeing Gaurav maul her butts, so a couple of strokes and I exploded in her.
As I laid back and caught my breath back, Vidya hugged me tightly and whispered, “That scene always makes you so hot, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.” I admitted. “The way he used you, and ripped you apart with his huge prick, and you begged for more; I loved watching that part.”
Vidya nodded. “Darling, he used your wife like a real man — something you can never do. It’s bound to turn someone like you on.”
Vidya had never cheated on me — except once. It was two years ago, and it was with my (former) boss Gaurav. It had been a one-off situation where she had to go to bed with him to save my job. For a week she had been his sex toy, fucked in every hole and used in every way sexually as possible. I had kept my job. Now Gaurav was gone, and I was promoted to his position, and it had all turned out well.
I then blurted out something that I had been thinking for some time.
“Vidya, sweetheart, I would love to watch you again with someone.”
Shit! I thought, what am I saying?
We both knew that the idea of someone else fucking my wife turns me on. But, save for a desperate situation with Gaurav, Vidya has never cheated on me, and now I was telling her I would love to see her screw around with another man, where there was no need to do so.
For a minute, Vidya was quiet. Was she angry?
“Are you … sure?” She finally asked. She wasn’t angry! I thought I detected a curious (and hopeful?) tone in her voice.
“I …” I decided to come clean to Vidya. That was one of the advantages of being a submissive husband. I could tell her any time what’s on my mind. I didn’t have any ego or false bravado to live up to — Vidya knew I was no macho man and I didn’t have to pretend. I could just surrender to her completely, and let her make the decisions. It was very liberating.
“You know I love you completely, Vidya.” I told her, as she nodded and kissed me in acknowledgement. “I could never bear the loss of losing you; of not having you in my life. But sometimes, when I think of what Gaurav did to you, that whole week, and sometimes, when you tell me about your previous boyfriends, I really … want to see you with … another man.”
“I see.” Vidya had now taken my flaccid member in her hand and was gently rubbing it, knowing I was now in a vulnerable position. “Go on, my dearest.”
“So I was thinking, if you … if you … did it with someone …”
“You mean fuck another man on your marital bed? Cuckold you? Have another young, big, dick in my pussy?” Vidya was smiling like the cat that got the cream.
“Forget it.” I realized it was a bad idea. “I am sorry I put you through that, darling. Please forgive me. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Yes, yes. It’s better to forget it.” Vidya seemed lost in thought. Then she turned her attention to another matter. “Let’s get you up again, fatty. My ass still needs a cock — no matter how small.”
“Yes, dear.”
Vidya forwarded the video to a section where Gaurav was eating her out on the sofa, before slapping her face several times, and finally giving her a good fuck. A few minutes later, I was hard enough to cum in Vidya’s buttocks. Vidya often let me cum in her ass, as my small dick did not cause her much pain. After kissing each other good night, with the smell of semen all over the room, we both fell asleep.
I forgot our conversation as work kept me busy, and Vidya too was involved with an interior decorating course she was taking from home. I wanted to plan a weekend getaway for our anniversary, but my wife wanted to stay home. She told me to leave all planning to her; she would pick out a nice restaurant and so on. I gratefully acquiesced.
Soon, it was the day of our anniversary. It was a Tuesday, and I was at work. Around 10.30 in the morning, just when I was having my coffee break, Vidya called me.
“Honey!” She was panting. “Can you take the rest of the day off and come home?”
“Vidya! Is everything OK? Why are you panting?”
“No … no … everything is fine.” Vidya gasped. “I am just … masturbating.”
“Oh.” Was the only thing I could say at my wife’s behavior.
“So, this is what I want you to do.” Vidya instructed me. “Come home around 12 sharp. I will be going out soon, dropping our son at my mom’s.” Vidya’s widowed mother lived just down the street, and every morning Vidya dropped our son off at her place so she could go to the gym or go shopping. “And so the house will be empty. Do you understand?”
I was the VP of a multinational firm, so of course I understood this simple instruction.
“Yes, dear. I will go to our house at 12 noon sharp.”
“Good. Now fatso, listen to me carefully.” Vidya’s voice almost dropped to a whisper. “You will enter the house, and go up to our bedroom. Remember the huge walk in closet you were hiding and watching me as Gaurav pounded me, again and again, with his giant cock? Good! You will hide there, close that door. Take your iPad with you too — the one that has the camera app.”
“Yes, dear.” I wondered what elaborate scheme Vidya was planning. She sometimes had this sexual role play games that she made me participate it, which were quite detailed. I wondered if she was planning something similar to those.
“Ah! Ah! Ah! Harder! Harder! Ah!” Vidya was now screaming into the phone. No doubt, she was fingering herself to an orgasm.
“Ok! Where was I?” Catching her breath, Vidya continued. “So yes, you will remain hiding in that closet like the little fucking pervert you are.”
My dick was rising at the condescending tone Vidya was using towards me, and at the noises of her orgasm.
“Now, listen to this, honey. This is important. NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS, YOU WILL REMAIN INSIDE THE CLOSET until I specifically, remember, SPECIFICALLY, ask you to come out. Do you understand?”
“Yes, dear.” My cock was now erect, wondering at the “no matter what happens” part. What did Vidya have in mind?
Soon, I took half the day off work and left, timing it so that I came home just around noon. Vidya and my son was nowhere to be seen. The house was freshly cleaned (Vidya could be a finicky cleaner when in the mood), and our bedroom was also properly made up. I took my iPhone with me, grabbed a stool and entered the huge walk-in closet of our bedroom. Placing the stool so I could sit and watch all the action on the bed through a crack on the closet door, I sat down and turned on my iPad.
In addition to viewing the bed through that crack, I could also see it on my iPad. Two years ago I had installed secret cameras in the bedroom and in the living room, and they were all wirelessly connected to my iPad. Those cameras helped me tape Vidya and Gaurav’s affair, which we edited and gave anonymously to Gaurav’s fiancée — the daughter of the owner of the corporation I worked for. Our plan worked perfectly — Gaurav was fired and I took his place. I switched on the iPad now, plugged in my headphones so I could listen, and switched to our living room camera.
I could hear a voice. Yes, Vidya had just entered our home, and someone seemed to be with her. I could hear a man’s voice! Vidya soon came into the living room, and thus on my screen. I could see she was wearing a simple blue sari, wrapped nonchalantly around her body, with her waist and navel exposed. Her blouse was a small, low cut one, giving anyone a good view of her ample cleavage. Her hair was rolled up in a bun at the top of her head. Vidya’s guest followed her into the living room. My jaws dropped in shock.
It was our doodhwaala Ramu! Our milkman! Ramu was a low-class labourer who went door to door on our street every morning delivering fresh milk to the housewives. What was he doing here? His delivery time should have been in the morning, I thought.

Ramu was very dark. He could almost be called black, so dark was his complexion. He was slightly tall, and I could see that he was built — lugging around heavy cans of milk up all those flights of stairs was a physically demanding work. Ramu was wearing an old shirt that fit him tightly, and I could see his ripping muscles. His bright white shirt contrasted brilliantly with his ebony skin, and he wore a lungi (think of a lungi as a full length kilt that reached to your ankles — it was a dress worn by the lower class outside as it was cheap).
Ramu followed Vidya into the living room, and I could see him sauntering in as if it was his house. And then Vidya turned, and they embraced! A pang of jealousy hit me as I saw his hands roaming all over her ass and squeezing her buttocks, while she hugged and kissed him, with her tongue deep inside his mouth. My surprise turned to arousal as Ramu reached up and squeezed Vidya’s tits. He unbuttoned her blouse and made Vidya raise her arms. The blouse was soon on the floor, with Vidya’s bosom hidden only by a small bra. My wife only threw back her head and purred as he continued to maul her chest. He then worked all over her, turning her around and kissing her buttocks, before playfully spanking them as Vidya laughed.
Watching the amorous couple make out, I realized they were very comfortable with each other. Ramu didn’t call Vidya the usual respectable ‘memsaab‘ but was referring to her by name as he aggressively groped her. Vidya also seemed very familiar with Ramu’s touch. As my dick surged, I realized they must have been having this affair for some time now. I wondered how many times they had done it on our bed.
Finally, Vidya and Ramu took a breather.
“I will get you some tea, Ramu.” My wife offered.
“No, Vidya.” Ramu told her. “I want you.” He grabbed at her boobs. Vidya playfully slapped his hands away.
“Later, Ramu. Let me go get some tea for you.”
Vidya left for the kitchen, and Ramu sat down on my sofa, picked up the remote, and switched on the TV. Here was my doodhwala, a guy whose social standing was way below mine, and he was sitting in my house, watching my television, while having just enjoyed the charms of my wife. Vidya soon returned with the tea.
“Milk?” She asked, bending over to pour some sweetener into the tea.
“Hold on.” Ramu lurched forward and grabbed her boobs. “Let this doodhwaala milk his favourite cow.”
He reached into her bra, fumbled, and gently popped out one of her breasts. He repeated the action with her other one, as Vidya froze in position, bent over, remaining still. Her boobs were now hanging out of her bra, swinging pendulously. Ramu squeezed one tit, and then the other one. He pretended to milk her breasts as one would milk a cow. I had my dick out of my pants and was rubbing myself as I watched the scene through my iPad.
So there was my wife, bent over, with her bare boobs being fondled by our milkman, and he was calling her a cow, pretending to ‘milk’ her, while she was laughing and enjoying (even making “moo” sounds).
Ramu finished his tea as Vidya sat beside him, watching him. She made no move to make herself respectable and place her breasts back inside her bra, and they now hung out. She and Ramu made small talk, mostly about politics and the weather. Occasionally, while drinking tea, Ramu would reach out and squeeze one of her nipples, and Vidya would squeal with glee.
Ramu finished his tea, put down the cup and looked at Vidya.
“Vidya, this morning I had coffee. Then I have tea. Now I will have you.”
“Yes, Ramu!” Vidya reached her arms around her back, and unhooked her bra, and threw it across the room. The pallu of her sari fell from her shoulders. She was now topless, locked in a passionate embrace with my milkman.
This morning I had coffee. I just realized the meaning behind Ramu’s words. He was here this morning! So Vidya had lied to me, she wasn’t masturbating — it had been Ramu, fucking her!
“Oh, Ramu!” Vidya was now stroking a big bulge in Ramu’s lungi with her hands. Ramu had by then unwrapped the sari off Vidya, so she only had her petticoat and panties on. Soon the petticoat was violently ripped off her body, and I could see that Vidya’s panty was really a thong, so thin that it slipped into the crack of her butts, leaving the round globes of her ass in full view. This was a complete reversal of our situation, where it would be I who would be naked and Vidya clothed. Here, Vidya was completely exposed to our milkman, while he still had all of his clothes on.
“Ramu, pick me up, and take me to our room.” Vidya urged him. She was now very horny, her voice hoarse with desire.
“Yes, memsaab.”
Laughing, he picked up my wife easily. Vidya threw her arms around his neck, and her legs wrapped around his waist, essentially straddling him. I could see that Ramu had no trouble keeping his balance and walk, so strong was he, as Vidya remained attached to him. His hands supported her buttocks, and he would slap and spank at her ass while she continued to kiss him on his eyes, his ears, his nose, and of course, his mouth. My wife was now moaning as Ramu groped and squeezed and played with her butt cheeks, and he was carrying her out of the living room, and thus out of my view.
I could hear him walk up the stairs and soon they were in our marital room. Vidya’s ass was now quite red from Ramu’s spanks. It was her fault really, she had straddled him, leaving his hands free and her bare butts exposed and vulnerable — and Ramu had taken advantage.
Vidya slipped out of her thong and lay down on the bed, completely naked, with her long legs spread wide open, giving Ramu a perfect view of her already wet pussy. Ramu untied the knot that held his lungi together and it dropped to floor. I gasped as I saw his tool — he was hung like a horse. Next came off his shirt. He had a washboard stomach and a beautiful chest. In the words Vidya would later use to describe him, he was a hard working dark skinned stud.
A great pang of inadequacy hit me, as I realized this blue collar worker, who could be working for years to earn what I earned in a day, was soon going to (again!) fuck my wife. And I was powerless to stop it, hiding in the closet and wanking off to the sight of my wife getting a good old fashioned pounding by a stud.
Ramu pushed himself against Vidya. He moved his hips up and pressed the head of his giant cock at her opening. He pushed forward and Vidya pushed back. She was so wet that in one motion, Ramu slid the entire length of his cock into her pussy. He soon had a rhythm going, Vidya matching him thrust for thrust.
I realized that I was now, for the second time in my life, watching another man take my wife in our bedroom. With my full consent, my wife was now being penetrated by another well hung stud, a bull, while I massaged my dick in the closet.
A message from Vidya suddenly lit up my iPad, breaking my thoughts. I realized Vidya had sent a timed sms to me, pre-programming her phone to send me this message at a specific time. Ignoring the loud moans from the bed, I clicked to read her message.
“CUCKOLD (noun) — a man whose wife has committed adultery, often regarded as an object of scorn.”
So there it was, my wife was telling me in no uncertain terms what she thought of me, at the same time as our milkman was exploring her innermost depths. The words made me flush red with shame, as I realized her description was true — she was getting a thorough fucking by our milkman and I was incapable of stopping her, and she was scorning me. I was a cuckold.
As he pumped her, Ramu was complimenting Vidya on her breasts, taking them in his hands and squeezing them up to lick each nipple in turn. He then told her, “Look at you, Vidya, moaning like a cheap prostitute, getting a fuck from me, your milkman. Doesn’t your husband satisfy you like this?”
“Mmm…mmm …” Vidya was in her own zone. “My husband has a small cock, Ramu. It’s not even fit to be called a cock.”
“Then I,” Ramu declared with an evil smile as he drilled her, “am reaching parts of you that your husband has never been.”
“Oh yes! Oh yes!”
I came in my pants, shooting into my hand, at the same time as Ramu ejaculated in her. Vidya was in heaven as Ramu pumped, and pumped, and pumped, his seed into her. As his balls slapped against her ass, he kept calling her all types of names — randi (prostitute), chudail (witch), chutiya (pussy), kutti (bitch), bhos (cunt) and so on. Vidya, the wife of a senior executive of a global company, was lapping it all up, as she writhed around on the bed in ecstasy. Our milkman was insulting her with the vilest of insults, and she was content to be impaled on his monster tool.
Afterwards, as they remained on bed entangled in each other’s arms, with his cum running down my wife’s thighs, Ramu ran his fingers through her hair and asked her, “Vidya, what will happen if your husband finds out I have been fucking his wife for the last couple of weeks?”
“He won’t.” Vidya adamantly replied, knowing full well I was watching them from within ten feet away. “I have no intention of telling him.”
“Yes, but what if I tell him?” Ramu had a sinister grin.
“No, you … won’t … please tell me you won’t.” Vidya pleaded with him, while rubbing his phallus. “Please don’t.”
“Why not?” Ramu was enjoying my wife begging him, and giving him a gentle hand rub while doing so. “I have seen how he behaves with me — as I don’t exist! I want to hold him by the collar and tell him, I am man enough to fuck your wife in your house, over and over, for many days! Oh he will like that!”
“No, please don’t do that.” Vidya was now licking his member and cajoling him. “Please. He’s a nice, kind man and I don’t want to hurt him. Please.”
“Then I won’t fuck you again, randi.” Ramu decided. “I am not going to be your little toy coming here every day for your amusement.”
“No, no, no! Ramu, please don’t!” My wife tried to stop him as he stood up, his cock half erect. I marveled at his power, he had just dumped a gallon of cum in Vidya’s vagina, and here he was, Vidya’s sucking has managed to get him ready to go again. She was still pleading with him. “Please don’t say you will leave me, Ramu.” She started to cry. “I need your cock in me. Please.”
“Ok, kutti.” Ramu sat back down on the edge of the bed and caught hold of a crying Vidya. Holding her firmly by her hair, he made her get down from the bed and kneel down in front of him. Vidya chocked back her sobs and looked up at Ramu in apprehension.
I admired Ramu’s position. He was just an ordinary milkman, who in his life probably never had fucked someone as fair skinned or as high class a woman as Vidya. And here he was, with admirable self-control, having a woman like Vidya at his mercy, begging with him, cajoling him, all to get laid.
“Admit it, saali,” He told her roughly, “You are a slut and you need my manhood.”
“Yes. Sob. I need you in me, Ramu. Sob. I need a real man’s meat inside me. I am a slut.”
“OK.” Ramu decided, “I won’t tell your husband, and I will keep you on as my rakhail (mistress). But rakhails have to do what their master tells them to do.”
He slapped her hard, twice. I was surprised to see him do that, but Vidya didn’t even flinch. It looked like she was used to being used as a mere object of pleasure by this blue collar man, and she was relishing it. He slapped her a few more times, leaving dark red marks across her cheeks. Then he roughly pulled her up and positioned her on the bed, face down, with her butt up. Ramu’s cock was now completely hard. I was astonished at his recovery powers — by my calculations this was the third time he would be fucking my wife Vidya today.
He rubbed some saliva onto his dick, as Vidya cocked her head back to look expectantly. With a grunt, he plunged his hardness into the welcoming, fleshy cushions of her ass, this time penetrating her anally. I could hear Vidya gasp as he ploughed his way through, and no doubt she could feel the beginning of another orgasm. Ramu proceeded to fuck her ass hard and fast. He grabbed Vidya’s hips with either hand and pulled her closer to him, thrusting deeply into her. Vidya was now crying out with what could only be the cries of unbelievable pleasure. With each thrust, he slapped her ass and they jiggled with the blow. Ramu suddenly went stiff and let out a primal howl as he started to cum in her rear tunnel. When he was finally through, Ramu pulled out and rolled onto his side, leaving a trail of semen across my wife’s caboose.
“Vidya, madam, I am leaving. I still have to visit a few more houses to deliver milk.”
“Yes. Yes.” Vidya was still moaning, her eyes shut, cum oozing out of her every orifice. “When will you come tomorrow again, Ramu?”
“I will come when I will come.” Ramu told her, putting his clothes back on. “You will remain home all day to wait for me.”
“Yes, Ramu.” Vidya was still lying face down, her hand rubbing her crotch area. “I am your rakhel. I will be ready for you all day.”
I heard the main door shut and Ramu leave. I wanted to come out of the closet, but Vidya had asked me to wait.
“Oh my fat cuckold, are you there?” Vidya asked me in a sing-song voice. “Come out now.”
I opened the door of the closet and walked out. I was now wearing only my underwear and a T-shirt. And what a sight greeted me. It was the vision of my wife, fresh from fucking another man, with the room reeking of his sweat and cum.
“Did you wank off, my little cuckold?” Vidya asked me, turning around and sitting up. As she did so, more cum leaked out of her openings.
“Yes, dear, once. The first time when he entered and started to cum in you today.”
“You mean the second time.” Vidya grinned. She was no fool — she knew I had now deduced Ramu had my wife impaled on his dick when she made the call. But, that meant, I thought suddenly, while Ramu was fucking her, if she made the call, then he must have known I was hiding in the closet?
“No.” Vidya clarified. “Remember, I spoke to you in my mother tongue. Ramu doesn’t speak that.”
Vidya then asked me to undress and come to bed. I complied meekly. Once I was in bed, Vidya grabbed my ears.
“Do you want to hear about how our affair started?” She asked.
“Yes, dear.”
“Well, since you just wanked off, you will need time to recuperate. After all, you are not Ramu. So I’d better tell you how a milkman got to fuck his malkin, and perhaps that will get you going again, eh, hubby darling?”
“Yes, dear.”
Vidya slapped me, hard.
SLAP!
“You are nothing but a cuckold!”
“Yes, dear.”
SLAP!
“All you wanted was to see another man fuck your wife. You are not a real man.”
“Yes, dear.”
SLAP!
“And now, you want to know how your wife started to be the rakhail of an ordinary milkman.”
“Yes, dear.”
SLAP!
I was now breathing hard, as was my wife. With each slap my cock rose up just a little. When Vidya was satisfied I had been thoroughly punished for being a cuckold, she started her story.
“You remember, darling, the conversation we had the other day, about a month ago, when you admitted you wouldn’t mind seeing me with another man in bed?”
“Yes, dear.”
“That got me thinking. I mean, sex with you is, I admit, pleasurable. And you do manage to make me cum. But it’s a lot of work on my behalf. Ever since Gaurav, I missed having someone just, you know, take me. Use me. Fuck me. I missed having a REAL dick in my pussy.”
“Yes, dear.”
“So, next morning, since you seemed open to the idea, I started to think who could fuck me, who would I grant the privilege of making you a cuckold — again! At first I thought of your friends, but they are all like you — fat, geeky, shy. Not a real man. Then I thought of my old boyfriends, particularly Mohan. But I realized part of the thrill I was getting was that I needed to feel a new dick.”
“Yes, dear.”
“And then, the doorbell rang. I knew it was Ramu, who had come to deliver our milk. A thrill ran through my legs as I realized that Ramu could be my next lover. He was dark skinned, which I like, and I could see he had a ripping physique. And I have heard these lower class labourers can be pretty handy between their legs. And now we know he was good, eh?”
“Yes, dear.”
“I actually felt more comfortable with the idea of letting a 100-rupee-a-day labourer fuck me like a streetside whore, than to let one of your middle class friends insert his dick into my pussy.” Vidya confessed. “Does that make sense?”
“Yes, dear, it sounds cheap but it’s making me more excited.”
SLAP!
“That’s because you are not a real man, darling. That’s why Ramu can cum in me as he wants, while you need help.”
“Yes, dear.”
Vidya kept rubbing my dick, which was getting harder and harder. In particular, I was now eagerly awaiting the story of how Vidya seduced Ramu, once she decided it was him.
“You remember, darling, my bathrobe, the one that just comes up to my hips?” When I nodded, Vidya continued. “I decided to ditch my saris, and wear that. So, wearing just this flimsy bathrobe, and a small thong, I opened the door.”
“He must have gotten a shock,” I commented.
“Yes.” Vidya confirmed. “Ramu’s eyes were wide open as he stared at me. I then asked him to follow me to the kitchen to put the milk in the fridge. I could tell his eyes were on my ass, and my shapely legs, as I led him to the kitchen. As I bent over and opened the fridge door, I am sure he must have gotten a good look at my panty covered moist pussy.”
I could picture it in my mind. An average milkman would have certainly thought of nothing else the whole day after Vidya had flashed him.
“This continued for a few days.” Vidya went on with her story. “I would tease him with different clothes. Once I wore your dress shirt, and nothing else. Then one day, I tried to get a glass from the top shelf and Ramu saw me unable to that. He had gotten a bit bolder by this time, so he decided to help me and reached for the glass. But while doing so, he pressed his body close to mine, and his arm was touching mine. My hand was already shaking and he pressed his hand onto mine. And then he just stayed like that. His body was almost spooning mine, and I could feel his hard cock against my ass. I could tell he was a giant there, and I knew I made the right choice.”
“Were you scared?” I asked her.
“Not really.” Vidya laughed. “What’s the worst that could happen? He would rape me? That would make my job easier.” She laughed again, and I cringed. Vidya then continued, “Ramu stayed like that, and so did I for a few seconds. I think he was testing my limits. I didn’t push him off or scold him, and so he stepped back reluctantly. Remember, I was just wearing a shirt, so his hardness was actually rubbing against my bare clitoris.”
“Wow, that must have been something for him.” I remarked.
“Yes, but more importantly, I could feel his throbbing manhood.” Vidya answered. “I was so wet, I almost wanted to rip his lungi off and ask him to fuck me there. But I knew this had to go on at its own pace. The next day, I asked him to stay for tea. I was wearing one of your old T-shirts that day. Ramu, who was a bit apprehensive whether I would be upset, lit up into a smile when I asked him for tea. So there I was, dressed just in a loose T-shirt that barely covered my butts, making tea for our milkman, when out of the blue, he grabbed my right butt cheek and pinched me.”
“Wow, he has some cheek — no pun intended!” I was, once more, amazed at Ramu’s audacity.
“Yes,” Vidya replied. “But even then, I didn’t do anything, just glare at him and continued to make him tea. The next two days, the same thing happened. He would pinch or spank my ass, and then actually knead my bum, before I would give him tea. Remember, this was my bare bum he was playing with. I don’t think Ramu ever thought he would be spanking a gori mem like me on her butt and she would allow him to do so without repercussions. I think letting him have his way with my ass now made him now quite bold. However, this was nothing compared to what happened the next day. Things moved fast.”

Vidya now ran her hand up and down my shaft. I was now very hard. The story of Vidya’s teasing and eventual succumbing at the hands of Ramu was making me very horny. Vidya continued her tale.
“The next day, I had very little on. I wore one of your big, dress shirts, with few buttons buttoned to give Ramu a good view of my cleavage. Ramu arrived on time, and this time he said he needed money. I had completely forgotten that it was that time of the month, when we paid him for a month’s milk and cleared the tab. I told him to come to the kitchen while I got the money. I was really enjoying the hungry looks he was giving my butt as we walked to the kitchen. He smacked my bum a couple of times as we walked through the hallway. I even froze and let him knead my bare ass cheeks with his rough hands, before we proceeded to the kitchen. However, after looking around the kitchen for a bit, and while he followed my chest with his eyes, I told him I didn’t have any money on me. I couldn’t find enough change. Ramu then asked me if I would like to, in his words, ‘pay another way’.”
“We all know what he meant.” I said drily.
“Yes,” Vidya replied. “With that, he suddenly made his move. I guess I had been teasing him enough and Ramu decided to hell with the consequences — he would have me. He came from behind me and grabbed me. His hands automatically went to my breasts as he pushed me face down on the kitchen table. So there I was, bent over the kitchen table, wearing only a shirt but with my bum naked, wet from all my teasing, and ready to be taken.”
I whistled. It was some mental image. Vidya continued, “Ramu dropped his lungi, pulled out his prick and started to fuck me all in seconds. It happened so fast! I wanted to mock scream in anger and indignation, but his pounding and oh, how he fucked me!”
Vidya paused as she vividly recollected the scene in her mind.
“Darling, it was an amazing feeling as he drove his penis deep inside me.” Vidya recounted. “And honey, when I say deep, I mean deep. I had never been penetrated so far and I had to brace myself as he lunged in and out. Well, except for Mohan. You know, I have often talked about my old boyfriend Mohan, and how he had a huge dick?”
I nodded. I knew all about Mohan, and the various sex positions he used on Vidya.
“Now imagine Mohan’s size, given how huge Ramu was. Of, if only Mohan was here now, and he and Ramu fucked me together …” Vidya began to rub her clit as she started to fantasize being taken by two monster cocks. After a while, hastily, she went back to her story.
“After a few strokes of his meat, my anger and indignation turned to a huge craving, and I began to beg Ramu to fuck me as hard and as deep as he could. I was beyond caring, I was shouting! And then he came all over me. I couldn’t stand up, my knees were buckling at his fucking, and he had deposited a gallon of cum inside me! It trickled down my legs on to the floor — everywhere! Ramu then told me to get up and make him tea. He was ordering me about! And I made him tea, and boy did he slap my behind whenever I walked past him.”
“You do have a very nice ass, darling.” I told her.
“Why thank you.” Vidya smiled. She ran her lips on my dick, helping it become more rigid, and continued her tale. “Even though he liked my ass, I would find out later Ramu was more fascinated with my boobs. I guess, coming from a lower class background, the women he has screwed don’t wear bras, so their breasts lack support. Mine are big, full, perky, bouncy, and no doubt I am much fair skinned than he is used to. He just can’t stop squeezing them!”
“You do have wonderful boobs, darling.” I acknowledged her busty rack.
Vidya then lied down on her back, and told me to mount her. Her cunt was completely wet, and Ramu’s cum was sloshing around in her cavity as I plunged into her.
“I can hardly feel you darling.” Vidya told me, as I started to grind against her, feeling another man’s cum in my wife’s vagina. “That Ramu has stretched my cunt like anything. Anyways, so as I was saying, after he had his tea, he told me to get ready, again. I was amazed at how fast he was up again. I then told him. ‘Let’s move this into the bedroom.’ I fucked Ramu twice that morning. And he has been coming back, every day, since then.”
“How long will you continue to see him, darling?” I asked Vidya, as she moved her hips in tune to my thrusts.
“Honey!” Vidya laughed. “You saw the size of Ramu’s monster. Do you have to ask? I thought that’s what you wanted? You think you can pretend you don’t want me to see him anymore, but that tiny dick of yours that’s so hard now inside my clit isn’t lying, my little cuckold.”
I must have made a face, for Vidya then taunted me, “Awww, what’s wrong honey? You look so scared and sad … hehe … I know, I know, baby, it’s tough to see me with a real man’s dick. I know it looks like you could never please me again, but that’s why I wanted you to watch, sweetie.”
That did it. Vidya’s taunts put me over the edge. With a grunt, I started to cum in her. When I was finally done, I collapsed on her, drained.
Vidya gently cupped my cheeks, kissed me a deep, long, loving kiss.
“Happy anniversary, darling.” She said, hugging me tightly. “I love you. Hope you loved your present.”
“Happy anniversary, sweetheart.” I gushed, grateful for a hot, slutty wife like Vidya.
The next morning as I left for work, I ran into Ramu at the gate. He greeted me with a polite smile and a nod. My emotions and feelings were confused as I answered and headed out, now with the secure knowledge that this ordinary milkman had actually fucked my wife every day for the last 2 weeks, several times daily, and moreover, was heading up to do the same again in my absence. What really turned me on was that my wife was being penetrated by a guy with a huge penis, much larger than mine, and he was fucking my wife in my house, on my own bed. Sometimes I wondered if Ramu was stretching my wife’s cunt beyond recovery. When she asked me to fuck her at night, she complained that she could hardly feel my tiny dick.
This continued until Ramu had to go back to his village because of some family crisis, and he wasn’t going to return to the city in the near future. My wife Vidya had been Ramu’s mistress for nearly three months by then. The last day he came to visit her, he had her four times, once cumming in the mouth, once shoving it up her the ass, and twice she did him in the kitchen, taking his monster cock up her cunt for one last, good-bye fuck. When I came home, I found her sleeping on the sofa, covered in love bite marks and dried cum.
Both of us are glad that our lives are now back to normal. Vidya says she misses her lover, but it was just a nice distraction in our daily lives, and I have nothing to worry about from her. Sometimes though, in the middle of the night when I would be into her, she would take his name. Or Mohan’s. And I would wonder just how long it would be before I encouraged her to find yet another lover.
 

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