Snared in Voyeur Sites

Extremely careful though he was Chandru knew his wife would one day catch him with the goods. It happened that Saturday evening. He heard Malavi open the door. He was not to blame; the mouse stalled and he was not able to get the cursor fast enough to the upper corner of the screen to close the file. Malavi was standing behind him staring at the monitor. The amply endowed woman on the screen was very pretty, and she was fully unclothed.
“So this is what you do when I am not in the house, watching this type of women,” she said. Chandru was strangely defiant.
“You are talking of them with scorn. They are not ordinary women. They are women doing a vital service to me and millions of other men whose wives are unmindful of their duties and responsibilities.” This was a topic on which they frequently have skirmishes, but today Malavi’s focus was on other things.
“Scroll up,” she said. Chandru did. “Scroll down.” He did. The same pretty woman appeared in different poses. “Stop,” she said. The image was particularly juicy. The woman sat on the steps of a building with thighs spread apart, and the photographer had taken the shot at such an angle that her pussy was visible. Malavi snorted.
“Please click the ‘back’ arrow. I want to see the title page.” Chandru did so.
“You mean on this date so many have contributed photographs.”
“Yes, and every day. I have highlighted the file we were watching.”

“Wife enjoying herself,” she read, and continued reading. “‘Wife first time’, ‘Hot wife’, ‘Shy Wife.’ Most seems to be photographs of wives.”
“Yes, many are indeed the wives.”
“Why should these men want to parade the nakedness of their wives?”
“May be models are expensive and…”
“And?”
“May be the men get a kick out of it.”
“What do you mean kick?”
“It turns them on.”
“Really. Very odd, I should say. And their wives, would they be turned on too?”
“Apparently so, or else why should so many of them pose.”
“May be it is acceptable in Western culture. Do Indian women take part in this type of practices?”
“The language of sex is universal, darling. Women of the Kama Sutra country are not likely stand back and watch others steal a march over them.”
“Could you show me one or two?”
He scrolled down the list. “Here is one, ‘Lovely Indian’ it says.” He clicked and waited for the display to download fully.
“Now see,” he said and scrolled down picture by picture.
The first picture was of a woman fully clad in a blue sari of shiny material standing with back towards the camera. In the next frame she was in her skirts and blouse, and in the next in bra and knickers and then in knickers alone, and finally totally naked. But she was all along facing the wall. Malavi did not comment.
“Is that all?” There was one more. This was different. It appeared as if the woman wanted to reward those who had been patiently with her till then. In this frame she was reclining on a sofa with face turned away as if in shame, but the rest of her body faced the camera with a particularly good view of her clean-shaven pussy. Chandru waited for his wife’s comment, but she turned about and left the room. The rest of the day she did not mention the episode.
The next evening when Chandru was surfing he found that in his absence his wife has been accessing both the voyeur sites he had book marked. She did not have the computer savvy to erase her tracks, and even if she had it as not in her nature to hide what she does. It was same the next day and the next. On the third day during the quiet hour after supper she came and sat by his side.
“Darling, it is about your naked women sites on the computer.”
“Easier if you say voyeur,” he said cautiously.
“OK voyeur sites.”
“What about them?”
“For the past three days I have been viewing everything they have to offer this month.”
“You mean you gobbled. I only surf.”
“Viewership they claim is in the millions,” she continued ignoring his slur.
“Why not?”
“Chandru, I do not know what is happening to me.”
“What’s the problem?”
“I have an overpowering desire to post in the voyeur site.”
“You mean you want to appear in them in varying stages of nudity?”
“That’s it, Chandru. I am shocked and I am sure you are too. I never would have suspected that I suffered from a paraphilia.”
“What paraphilia?”
“I am an exhibitionist, Chandru. Suddenly it has come upon me. I do not know what to do?”
“Did you have the feeling to expose before?”
“I suppose my desire to stitch blouses with half a metre of cloth can be classed as a manifestation, and my swim suit is pretty daring for this town.”
“But did it thrill you to be seen that way.”
“I am not sure Chandru, but I think I liked it, though not quite thrilled.”
“Why not post and be done with it?” Malavi was stunned. It was not what she expected her husband to say.
“You mean you would not mind my appearing in the nude in that public forum?”
“No one would know it is you. To be frank Malavi it would be fun, and a turn on for both of us.”
“I am confused, Chandru. We will sleep over it and discuss it later. Please do not broach this topic. I will, when I am ready for it.” She left for business in the kitchen.
For the next two days Malavi in his absence visited the voyeur sites, but did not speak to Chandru about it. Early morning of the third day Malavi shook him by the shoulder to wake him for a sound sleep.
“Nothing is wrong with me,” she said. Chandru stared blankly with bleary eyes.
“Darling, please. You can’t wake me up at five in the morning and come out with a statement like that. It’s not fair. Anyway who said anything is wrong with you.”
“I did. I thought I was an exhibitionist. Now I know I am not.”
“Why do you say that?
“Say what?”
“That you are not an exhibitionist?”
“Because I am not.”
“But you want to post in those voyeur sites.”
“Yes, I want to post.”
“Then why do you say you are not an exhibitionist?”
“Because I am not.”
“Are you OK Malavi?”
“Perfectly. Listen carefully. I’ll explain.”
“Women want to be appreciated.”
“Men too.”
“Yes men too, but women crave for it. One easy way for women to do so is with their bodies, man’s mind being what it is. That is why we have sleeveless blouses, and padded bras, and minis and all that.”
“So?”
“Posting in voyeur web sites comes in that category.”
“Why is it not exhibitionism? You have not explained that.”
“Because she derives no sexual satisfaction from it.”
“But it is a turn on. That is sexual satisfaction, is it not?”
“No. It is just a stimulant to have sexual satisfaction in the usual way. To an exhibitionist the act itself is satisfying.”
“So.”
“We are going through the voyeur posting without any qualms.”
‘OK, now let me sleep. I have an important presentation to do this morning. You keep thinking about it. We will plan it after supper today.”
“You can also do some thinking.”
“Darling not today. I have more important things to do.”
After supper Malavi cleared the dining table and came straight to the drawing room. She plucked the newspaper out of Chandru’s hands and sat in front of him. She had a sheet of paper in her hand that she was waving like a banner.
“I am going to talk about posting in the voyeur site. Listen carefully. If you have any objection this is the time to tell. OK?”
“OK.”
“Say ‘no objection.’
“Must I swear?”
“Yes. You are permitting your wife to appear in the nude for millions to see.”
“OK, I have no objection.”
“First in the list is concealing my identity, rather our identity. That has to be rock solid. If that fails we may have to emigrate.”
“Don’t you think it is unlikely that a visa would be granted if we state that as the reason for emigration.”
“Funny, darling, very funny. First the dress I would wear.”
“And discard one by one.”
“I’d be thankful if you do not come out with your silly comments, darling.”
“Proceed.”
“What I wear must not be anything I had worn before or will wear in the future.”
“Reasonable. We can buy some cheap stuff and then give it away for some charity.”
“Yes, and the same with the jewels I wear.”
“You mean we make a new set and give that away also.”
“We buy gilded jewels my dear. The room must not be identifiable as well, and everything in the room, carpet, furniture, curtains, everything must be something our friends and relatives would not able to connect with us.”
“Good thinking. We can’t do it here at home. A hotel room would do nicely.”
“When we go to Bangalore next month we will be staying in a hotel. That would be an ideal opportunity.”
“Quite simple, once we get into the nitty-gritty of it.”
“You will have to work on the technical details like posting methods”
“I have partly. I’ll perfect it. Malavi I am already turned on. Are you too?”
“Hmmm.”
They celebrated.
A week later Malavi brought in a suit case one evening and opened it as if she was a conjurer about to produce a rabbit out of it.
“Guess what,” she said. Chandru did not know. Thereupon she opened the box and produced a cream coloured sari with red border, blouse to match, red knickers, and a beige coloured lacy bra. In a small case there was a set of gilded jewels. Chandru inspected the lot and expressed his satisfaction with the selection.
“They would photograph nicely,” he said.
“Want to know what it cost?”
“For a second honeymoon cost is of no consequence,” he said spreading out his hands expansively. She put it all back in the box and took them away. When she reappeared she was dressed in that finery.
“Wait. I’ll photograph it.” He did and they viewed the picture. It was good.
“Now strip,” he said.
“Not now. We have rehearsal another day.”
* * *
Chandru was able to get a large room in the sixth floor of the hotel with a balcony and ample windows. He was against use of flash even for fill in. He got more than a hundred exposures. Not all were for voyeur webs. Many were for his treasure trove. He downloaded them into the laptop and then he had them copied in two CDs. He then deleted the images in the camera and the laptop. He had one CD in his coat pocket, and Malavi had the other.
They came home and spent hours viewing the photos and selecting some for the voyeur site. Finally they had an agreed set. Both were pleased with what they had done.
The first one was innocent enough. Malavi sits at the breakfast table fully clothed in the sari and blouse with head turned away as if watching something out of the window. Both Chandru and Malavi did not want to hide the face with a deliberate blob as is often done. Instead they used some ploy – different in each picture – to cover the face. In the next image Malavi is at the washbasin. The pallav of her sari has fallen off displaying her valley. In the next she is at the dressing table in skirt and blouse. In the next she is in her bra and skirt, in the next without her bra, but in spectacular red knickers, and finally totally naked. She stands at a slight angle in front of the mirror doing her hair and thereby covering her face. But the mirror reflection adds an extra dimension to the picture. The mirror view of the breasts is quite splendid, and pussy is visible with a thin line of the cleft. Chandru took the final one, the pussy shot, after much planning. Malavi is leaning over the table with legs spread. The clean-shaven pussy is seen from below with great clarity, and so are the breasts, hanging like Malgova mangoes.
The two sat and admired their handiwork, but hesitated to post. After two days one morning they decided that they had to do it, and they did. Two weeks later as Chandru was entering the gate he saw Malavi on the balcony. She saw him and smiled so broadly that at once he knew that not only that voyeur had published the pictures, but also they had come out in a way that the star of the show (under the assumed name Sonali) was fully satisfied. As he entered she hugged him. The pictures had come out magnificently. They celebrated just as they have been doing frequently from the start of this exercise. In predicting that it would be their second honeymoon Chandru was smack on target.
Early the next morning Chandru was at the computer searching for comments. There were some. Mostly of them were complimentary. One was frankly obscene, and no less than three viewers wanted to have sex with Malavi. Chandru did not know what to do with them. He felt that Malavi would be shocked when she sees them, especially the ones were she is invited by unknown men for sex.
“There are some comments for your posting,” he said hesitantly. She rushed in to read them, and to his surprise she was not shocked but immensely pleased. Chandru could not understand why she should be so pleased at men inviting her to have sex with them.
“I am fifty, but they must have thought that I was in the early thirties,” she said.
“Hmmm,” he said. He was not sure that fully explained her attitude.
The next day there were a few, and again on the third day. With new postings flooding in daily it was hardly surprising that comments came in only for a day of two after posting. The honeymoon phase was wearing off too. There was some talk of a second posing from material left over from the first session photos. Malavi went so far as to make a selection. Then came this email.
Chandru was the first to read it. He told Malavi that an interesting email was waiting for her. After Chandru had left for his office Malavi checked her mail.
Dear Sonali,
Greetings from Kavia. I posted in the voyeur web last Monday. Please view it. The title is ‘Wife in for Adventure.’ It thought it was good, but your posting on Thursday before that was superb. Just a thought. Why not we meet. You are from a southern city. So are we. My husband travels a lot in the southern states on business. I join him occasionally. If you could mail your willingness we can arrange the details.
Please take time to answer. You would need to think it over, as we did before mailing this letter.
With warm regards
Kavia.
Malavi clicked on Kavia’s photos and viewed them with a practised eye. They were good. Kavia was more daring. In no less than three photos she displayed her pussy.
She refrained from broaching the topic till Chandru had washed and changed before joining her for evening tea. In the event it was he who started.
“What do you think of that letter, Sonali,” he a said and laughed.
“I am not for it. Of course we acknowledge the letter, but we say no.”
“Why.”
“The idea of facing the man who had seen me in the raw is unthinkable.”
“One probably in a million.”
“One in the flesh is one too much. What about you?”
“I want time to think it over.”
“Your first reaction.”
“To say yes.” They acknowledged receipt of the letter but did nothing for one week. Kavia did not follow up. One Sunday morning Malavi out of the blue suggested that they could meet Kavia and her husband.
“Why this change of heart,” asked Chandru.
“You are right. When millions have seen why strain at a gnat.”
“Good thinking,” said Chandru. Malavi wrote to Kavia suggesting their willingness to meet them.
The next day itself Kavia replied. They had a plan. They were for keeping their true identities secret. Sonali and Kavia had already assumed names. Kavia’s husband said he would be Talim. They wanted ‘Sonali’ to suggest the time and place of their meeting. Malavi wrote back suggesting that they meet in the breakfast room of the Taj Hotel on the first Monday of the month following. Kavia wrote back agreeing. She said would be in a blue sari holding a rose in her hand.
* * *
As they wound their way towards the Taj Malavi was sweating.
“I feel terrible. The very idea that that man would see me in the flesh gives me goose flesh.” In the event the meeting went off well. Both women were homemakers, and both men were pen-pushing executives of the more sedate type. Malavi and Kavia became friends straightaway. While the men spoke mostly about their photographic equipments, the women, to judge from their body language, clearly were into topics related to what had brought them together. They squirmed and they blushed, and coquettishly darted glances at the men who sat across the table. They took leave of each other promising to meet again next month when they wanted to have a photographic session. Kavia’s husband Talim felt, and Chandru concurred, that taking photographs without assistance was difficult and not conducive for the best results.
“If he thinks that I would bare before him he is sadly mistaken,” said Malavi later.
“Hummm,” said Chandru.
“Where do you think they are from?” asked Malavi
“Bangalore probably.”
“Chennai itself?”
“Not impossible.” He found it so amusing that he did not stop laughing for a minute.
It was the girls who prepared for the next meeting. They decided that each must have theme, and after much discussion they decided that what Chennai was famous for must be the themes. Kavia chose the beach, and Malavi the eight-century archaeological wonders at Mahabalipurum. They gave themselves two mornings, one on the beach and one in Mahabalipurum. It had to be early morning before the crowds and the tourists arrive.
One cold December working day morning before daybreak they met at the agreed trysting place under Gandhi statue in the beach. They walked an expanse of clean sea sand to the water’s edge a quarter of a kilometre away. A few fishermen were readying their catamarans. Kavia stood on a catamaran fully clothed and her husband snapped from many angles. Chandru had his camera but it was only for back up if the other should fail. All four crowded round to see the result. Some shots were very good, and one of them they all agreed was spectacular. In that Kavia stood in silhouette against the sky her splendid rear and her matching bust seen to perfection. The next picture was with the pallav off. She is seen reclining on a heap of nets with the low-necked blouse showing a deep valley.
Now they were against the problem they know they had to face: Kavia had to bare her chest in the open beach. Though it was very early in the morning the beach was not quite deserted. Chandru was not the problem. The girls had decided that they would not mind exposing their breasts before their men, but for pussy shots it would be strictly husband, wife and the other girl. What about reviewing those shots? Well Malavi’s attitude had softened. She once again applied the camel and gnat formula to Chandru’s great relief.
The leeward side of the mass of nets was ideal for some shots. Chandru stood on one side holding one of the two large umbrellas that they had brought for hiding the subject from interested spectators, and Malavi stood at another point with another of the umbrellas. Kavia bared her chest with professional aplomb. Talim was quite an expert with the camera. He shot rapidly from several angles. They reviewed the shots. They were excellent. They shot several more amongst the boats, catamarans and nets. Only the pussy shots remained. This was not too difficult. Chandru withdrew. Kavia had her blouse on, and loosely wrapped a skirt round her waist. When Talim was ready Malavi whisked off the skirt leaving Kavia bare below the waist. Talim shot from many angles getting excellent back and pussy shots.
The visitor’s job was over. It was the turn of Chandru and Malavi in Mahabalipurum the next day. Malavi’s task was cut out for her: she would have to compete with sculptures of voluptuous models of a thousand or more years ago and come out even.
They made an early start for Mahabalipurum was a two-hour drive. The broad expanse of the East Coast Road was tempting for speeding, but Chandru kept to a steady pace. The sun was peeping from the horizon when they reached Tiger Caves that was to be the site of their shoot. These caves were some kilometres away from the usual tourist spots like the Shore Temple and the rock carving called Arjuna’s Penance. They did not expect many visitors at that time of the day, and so it proved. 

By the time they had parked the car and reconnoitred the site the soft red globe of the sun was half out—a magnificent sight. Chandru could not resist the temptation of having Malavi in silhouette against the glowing skyline. He suggested it.
“Nude?” said Malavi.
“Yes, there is no one about. Just ideal.” Malavi looked doubtfully first at Kavia and then at Talim.
“He would be behind the rock on the look out for stragglers,” said Kavia answering her thoughts. Malavi paused for a moment and then agreed. Kavia covered her with a large sheet and Malavi undressed. The two walked up to the place where Chandru wanted her to be. Meanwhile Talim had disappeared behind the large rock dense with carvings. Kavia removed the sheet and moved away and Chandru started shooting. Finally he got all the angles he needed. He asked Malavi, still in the nude, to come up closer to the rock. He wanted her beside the sculpture of a big-breasted nymph. At one point Malavi had to climb up the rocks, and as she was crawling up Chandru shot from below. Later during review they found these shots were extremely seductive. Chandru wondered if the web site administrators would shunt the pictures to their explicit section for the pussy lips were slightly parted. But in the event it was this picture that was to bring in a flood of comments.
That over, with Talim giving assistance, Chandru took many +shots of his topless wife. They reviewed the lot and agreed that it was a good collection.
“How did I manage it?” asked Malavi later.
“Quite professional,” said her husband. Yesterday after watching Kavia I wondered if she was a model. Now I know she was no more a model than you are.”
“Correction,” said Malavi, “now both of us are models.”
* * *
The day was warm. Chandru and Kavia were cosily in bed after a light lunch. Both were in the nude playing with each other’s bodies.
“Chandru, I was wondering if your were hard-on when Kavia was baring herself.”
“Most certainly I was.”
“Why?”
“What a strange question. Because I am not impotent.”
“Then Talim must have been hard-on too when I was baring myself.”
“No doubt he was.”
“Chandru, were you harder-on when Kavia was baring or when I was?”
“You, of course darling.”
“Was it because it was I or was it because he was watching me when I was bare chested?” Chandru had no answer. “Chandru,” continued Malavi, “you men are strange creatures. If you caught a man peeping when your wives are bathing you would blow his brains out. But tons of you men are eagerly posting photographs of their nude wives in websites so that millions can see and enjoy. Absolutely paradoxical is it not?” Chandru again had no answer
They were crawling about each other rubbing their naked bodies in sensual parts. At one point she was on top with his head between her thighs. Thereupon Chandru embraced her rear and quickly positioned himself under her pussy. He folded a soft pillow to bring his lips comfortably closer to her clit and started licking. She spread her thighs and pressed to bring her clit in firmer contact with is lips and tongue. She gyrated back and forth gently.
“I have never seen it this big Chandru.”
“I can feel it is big too.”
“Chandru you know I do no like to blow,” she said as she played with the shaft.
“You don’t have to blow, honey. Have I ever asked you to do anything you do to like to do?”
“Never.”
“Please do not let me ‘come’. I want to get inside you, and stretch you.”
“I’ll kiss your rose. Nothing more.”
“You like my licking from below don’t you?
“When it comes off it is unbeatable. But often you are unable to reach the sensitive spot.”
“Today the sensitive spot is likely to be so widely spread out that there is no chance of missing.”
“How do you know?”
“Because of this and that. You know what they are?”
“This and that? I know nothing of that sort,” retorted Malavi with some heat.
“You remember you asked me whether I was harder-on when I saw you baring because he was also watching, and I did not answer. Maybe the same cause is making you sensitive all over.” Malavi pretended not to hear.
Her thighs were parted to the utmost, stretching her pussy lips thereby leaving the clit standing like a lonely sentinel, tense and turgid, inviting to be licked. With the clit facing him Chandru gripped it between his lips and played his tongue on it. As he did so Malavi vibrated with greater and greater vigour. Chandru licked, taking time out now and then to come up for breath for when lips and nostrils were pressed to the pussy there was no space to breathe. Malavi was bobbing up and down. Then he judged that she was ripe for it—he held the clit firmly between his upper lips and tongue and swiped with gentle force. She had a massive orgasm and her ejaculate poured down his throat by gravity. He drank it. It was the first time, and he liked its salty, tangy taste. She moaned, and then she screamed in frenzy. She wanted more. She rolled over and Chandru got on top of her and entered her.
“Chandru darling you have never filled me so much before,” said Malavi and then they had orgasms together, and then she had two of her own. Both lay hugging each other in total exhaustion. Soon they were soundly asleep.
Just after dawn Malavi woke him up.
“Chandru just now I had a most disturbing dream. Please hold me tight I am shivering.” She was indeed shivering.
“It is only a dream, don’t bother.”
“Don’t you want to know what it was?”
“No, Malavi. I can guess. It would be painful for you to tell, and not a pleasure for me to listen. Unless you want to unburden do not tell.”
“Chandru darling, I don’t want to meet Talim and Kavia again.”
“Never again?”
“Never, ever.”
“OK, no problem. When they seek another meeting we can put them off with one excuse or other.”
“I like Kavia, Chandru. I would miss her.”
“You can mail.”
“Am I a wicked woman Chandru for having such a dream?”
“No, you are not wicked. I have wicked thoughts too. It is nature.” Malavi was soon asleep. Her face had the calmness of one who had no care in the world. Chandru felt very tender towards her. He kissed her gently so as not to disturb her sleep.
The next day Malavi received mail from Kavia.
‘Dear Sonalu,
Thank you for giving us the most wonderful time we have ever had. But unfortunately Talim’s office has posted him to Assam and we cannot possibly come again to the south. We can email, and see each other on the web. Our friendship unfortunately has to be by emails alone. What a pity. I have no doubt that Talim and I would never ever have two more enjoyable days in our lives. It was too good Malavi, just too good.
Love
Kavia
“What do you say to that, Chandru?”
“Kavia must have had the same horrible dream that you had, Malavi,” said Chandru strutting about like a barnyard cock.

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