The Seminal Baptism

Rushing to the hotel, I felt a bit like Schumacher; I zipped and zagged, extending my rather superfluous control over the metallic cage in which I travelled. The car whined with a shrill urgency as I pulled into the drop zone, tires squealing their vulcanized rage, at my sudden break.
Chucking the keys, at the valet, I rushed into the hotel nearly bowling over the old couple in front of me. People gawked as I made through like a typhoon through a hapless forest, bodies parting, in seeming self protection.
I paid them no heed. I was late, very late and I feared my wife’s fury, more than the general public’s. I made it to the posh a la carte, restaurant with eagle-like ease.
My eyes skirted through the rows upon rows of well groomed diners, searching for that familiar face. My quarry eluded me.
Squinting hard, I dialed my wife’s cell-phone.
“Hey, where are you?” asked the tart voice.
I was a little delayed in replying. I had been late, and I expected her to be furious. But I detected none of the rote sarcasm in her voice.
“Hi, Sou, I…ah, got a bit delayed where are you?”

“Fourth seat, third row to the right,” said the crisp and impatient voice.
I walked with a little trepidation, wondering what she had in place for me.
I was able to find her after a few tries. And I realized why I had not been able to locate her table. I was searching for a woman alone, she apparently was anything but.
I espied, her dinner partner as I made my way to the table. Something about him was vaguely familiar.
The handsome man, sitting opposite my wife, rose towering above me, and reached out to shake my hand.
“This is Rajesh,” my wife said as she introduced us.
The reason for my wife’s non-responsiveness as to my being late turned a devastatingly handsome smile upon me. No wonder she had not been angry with me for being late, she must have been positively delighted!
In the manner of most men worldwide, I pretended to recognize him through out dinner.
I broached the subject that night in bed.
“Who was he?”
“What you don’t remember him? My wife asked, with that accusing expression women reserve for moments like these — when men do not remember something that was obviously important to them.
“Should I have?” I retorted.
“Yes…” she said, with certain softness in her voice that put me on my guard.
“Who?” I queried, persistent to the end.
“My…my first,” she said, eyes not meeting my own.
“Oh that guy…”
“Yes, that guy.”
A little background on us would be in order, at this point. We had an arranged marriage, but no, it was not a marriage of convenience; we genuinely liked each other, a quality so rare in arranged marriages, so as to be virtually extinct.
Being conservative my-self, imagine my shock on my first night, when I realized my lovely wife was not a virgin.
My uneasiness heightened, when I was able to enter her, as easily as a knife threw butter.
Why only the previous day I had received enlightening lectures, from more than a few people with my good will at heart:
“Do it slowly…”
“Take your time; everything doesn’t have to happen on the first night…”
“A lot of lubrication is required, particularly for a virgin…”
“First times are always difficult, it’s as hard for her as it is for you…”
With such advice reverberating endlessly through my head, I marched into the room where awaited my chaste bride (or so I thought at the time).
But the truth really, was quite the opposite.
We went through the rituals of the first night, and to my credit I said nothing. But inside I was very hurt.
That someone had fucked my wife to the point where her pussy, was wide and easily enterable, had my confidence wound up in painful knots.
As I went down on her, the loose labia mocked me further, thereby bespeaking past ravages by a manhood of rather gargantuan proportions.
In the morning I could not resist.
“You’re not a virgin are you Sou?” I asked my voice cracking slightly.
She shook her head slowly, her expression sullen. I realized with a start, she had thought me de-brained enough to not realize that.
She told me her tale then, with more detail than was really required. But she was young and inexperienced with this whole ‘wedded for life’ thing.
Rajesh had been the bull-stud in her college. With a multitude of girlfriends under his belt, and vast wealth to inherit, all the girls swooned for him. Sou had liked him in her shy, innocent way. But her innocence had lit a fire in his belly. He was, as it so happened, fed up with all the women who threw themselves on his cock.
His conquering gaze then settled on the ripe un-plucked flower, that was my future wife. He then serenaded, romanced and accosted his way, till she went out with him. She had dated him but resisted his sexual overtures. She had loved him, and wanted him to take her after she was married.
But Rajesh with his vast sexual experience was persistent.
Her first sexual encounter was when she blew him in his black Bentley.
“His cock was huge, and I mean huge,” gestured Sou, her eyes widening as she remembered the incident. “It was big when it was soft, but when it became hard…” she closed her eyes and unconsciously licked her lips.
Needless to say I was very, very disquieted.
But Sou went on and on, seemingly oblivious to her husband’s feelings — “He was not circumcised like you and so he asked me to pull back the skin and I almost jumped when the big pink thing came out.”
“Then he asked to lick it, but I couldn’t, no way, not at first at least, so he asked me to stroke it with his hands. I kept on massaging it. God it was so big it completely filled my hand and my wrist hurt because of the weight!”
“…when he came for the first time, I thought he was in pain, I didn’t understand these things you see….all this creamy stuff exploded with such force on my face and clothes as I stoked and squeezed him. He said it was his personal cream, and asked me to lick it. It actually tasted quite good. I had to take a long shower to…”
She droned on and on, and somewhere I had stopped listening to her ruminations. Here was a woman who after her wedding night, was gushing about how big her lover’s manhood was, to her newly married husband.
Tact, as you might have deigned to notice was not my wife’s strong point.
“…then he did this thing with his mouth, and I was so wet…”
What was my life going to be like with this woman? Was she really this naïve or was she fucking crazy?
“…a little went in but, not too much and then with a ‘plop’ all of it went inside. Oh the pain… I was screaming by then…”
Sitting there staring rather sightlessly at the canopied bed, listening to how she had been deflowered by Rajesh, I made a firm decision.
“…when he pulled out, my blood was on his cock, mixed with some other white stuff, I thought it was mine too but I later realized what it was. Rajesh had come inside me. I was too tight for him you see, and he had lost control…”
“Sou stop!” I screamed.
She froze, and I threw her on the bed, strangely her descriptions of her sexual exploits had fired me up and I fucked her senseless.
Fast forward ten years and one kid later, and we had not discussed Rajesh even once.
Until now.
She had kept a few poems he had written her, and one dog-eared photo of the two of them in some park (which she kept carefully hidden from me.)
“Tell me honestly, do you still have feelings for the guy?” I extorted.
“I have some feelings, but not what you’re thinking”
“You know what I mean.”
“What do you mean?” I asked innocently.
“Oh shut up, I have apologized a thousand times, for that night; I was young and innocent and I did not know what to say.”
“And…” I persisted.
“You’re a very understanding husband who did not take it out on me. There- you happy?”
“Very” I said contented.
But a part of me was not sure; I felt that I was shaky ground here. The cock that my wife probably still adored (in spite of everything she said) was in town.
I decided to do a bit of moon-lighting.
I found out that Rajesh had a habit of visiting his exes and showering them with gifts. He did not seem to want to renew his relationships. There was no specific pattern here. Only one thing stood out- he went out of his way to pursue the exes who were married- chance meetings with said exes in restaurants; hallways, old college reunions, sudden visitations at homes, all of which had married heartbeats quickening.
And unfortunately I came to know through the grapevine that Rajesh had set his sights on Sou.
The next few weeks I began to follow her closely, checking her email, her cell phone messages. I even went to the extent of taking the day off and following her to work.
Rajesh and his legendary manhood loomed like a shadow I could not step out of.
But things calmed down, when Rajesh left town. He was never discussed further.
Until one day, at a party thrown by my boss a Black Bentley pulled up, and a gorgeous woman in a red dress, curves everywhere, got down.
I was ogling at her till I realized it was my wife, escorted by none other than Rajesh.
She made straight for me, her face glowing.
“See what Rajesh bought for me,” she said excitedly.
“Its Dolce and Gabbana,” said Rajesh smoothly, hinting at the fact that I could never buy my own wife such things. Naturally I seethed.
I pulled her aside, excusing myself from my business associates, all of whom were also ogling at my wife.
“What are you doing?” I hissed.
“I told you I was going to get dropped by a friend,” she answered tartly.
“Not him!” I snarled viciously.
“And what are doing wearing something he bought you?”
“Oh. It’s just a gift, stop being petty”
“Where did you meet him exactly? For him to buy you stuff?” I rasped.
“Its no big deal, I met him at the mall, he was shopping too. Did you know he is one of the major investors in your boss’s company?”
Here she was, wearing what probably turned him on, and then praising his financial prowess, at the same time pissing on my own. It took me back to that first night. Tact. It seemed to elude my wife completely.
I stormed away, dark thunderclouds forming over my head.
I could hear her calling my name, but I did not care.
At around ten o clock at night, after I had put my son to bed, I heard the unmistakable roar of a Bentley engine, driving away.
My wife entered, still clothed in that sexy (though I would never admit it Rajesh had good taste) red dress.
“Blow him yet?” I asked acidly.
“Oh please stop, lay off, I am not in the mood for this.”
“That’s where you first sucked him right? That Bentley?”
She had no response to that.
We argued a little, some she managed to convince me that, she loved me and was now faithful to me. She was a mother now, she added and she would not do anything with Rajesh.
Then we made love, I was fired up by that red dress. It was good, but I was getting the feeling that my wife was wishing that the man on top of her was somebody else.
Rajesh continued after my wife, persistent as ever. Sou repeatedly thwarted his efforts, as if trying to prove something to me. But sexually she was as malcontent as ever. After one such episode of listless lovemaking, I had it.
“Just sleep with him already.” I roared.
“WH…what…?” Sou’s face bore a look of genuine shock.
“You and I both know you want him. Fine, you can have him, but on my terms.”
“What terms?” asked Sou puzzled.
The fact that she did not deny me outright, betrayed the truth of her needs.
“You can fuck him, but as I watch,” I replied.
I waited for some hesitation from her, some modicum of doubt, but she gave me nothing.
“He will never agree to it.”
“It’s the only way. No argument or you can never fuck him.”
“Are you serious?” she asked incredulously. “You’re going to stand and watch as he fucks me?”
“Yes. At least this way, I know what’s happening and when.” I retorted, thereby offering myself, a small pathetic measure of control.
“You won’t be able to do this,” she said chuckling.
“Listen Sou, your going to fuck him whether you realize it or not. Just let me handle this.”
She watched me and I could see all the wheels turning in her head.
This way she could have her cake and eat it, literally!
She had reached a decision.
“Fine, but I think you are going to chicken out.”
“No I want to see this as much as you,” I bared my teeth. “I want to see what he’s got.”
Sou said nothing but smiled a knowing smile that withered my already battered fortitude.
I installed cameras throughout my house – in the bedrooms, bathrooms, and kitchen. I choose the bedroom, where things were supposed to go down and commanded my wife to fuck in no room but this one. Naturally it was our bedroom. Another reason would be the cabinet near the bed to the left side of the room. An earlier re-structuring had removed an air conditioner, and now there was a potential space within, that could house a person of my size. It would not be comfortable but it was a start. I got a carpenter to hollow out and chip a bit of the wood. It would give me enough access of the bed and other goings- on.
However one can never predict where a fucking would take place.
I lent Sou a free hand. She met with Rajesh in coffee shops, restaurants and malls. But I would always monitor the time and make sure she got back.
Things came to a head.
I sent my son away (as his mother was in absentia most of the time, romancing with Rajesh). Rajesh was told that I was gone overseas for work. I knew this would get his blood up. See, people like Rajesh want to fuck their women in the husbands place. It’s where their sense of domination, is at its zenith.
I was prepared completely (in mostly mechanical terms), when Rajesh and Sou arrived that fateful night.
I had requested Sou to build up the tension slightly. She had played with him to the point where he was never sure, if he could get under her skirt or not. She would entice him, but he would never be sure what happened next.
As the two came into my bed room, I tensed.
They were whispering to each other softly and seemed quite taken with each other.
As Sou reached for her drink, she stumbled. I had purposely brought dim bulbs so that the room was shadowy, but not quite dark. I could see them quite clearly. The stumbling was part of the plan, and the ever gallant Rajesh reached out and my wife was in his arms.
In my hidden cabinet I started sweating. Doubts and fears began to assail me. Was this really what I wanted? I wanted to be in control sure, but what was I really in control of?
Opportunist that he was, he gathered her for a kiss. She drew back and he kissed her again, hungry and persistent.
They kissed softly at first, and then with the rising passion of old lovers. Their arms wrapped around each other, and they began swaying gently. Rajesh’s hands slipped slowly from her back and rested on her buttocks.
She drew him closer to where I was secreted, so I could get a better view. But I was seeing too much already. There were no pretences here, I could smell raw lust in the room and I knew that my wife was ready, ready to betray me with her former lover. And she did it with an ease that startled me.
A dance of kisses and they were right in front of me.
“Your so beautiful Sou,” moaned Rajesh, the words slightly distorted as her tongue was in his mouth.
His one hand was busy unbuttoning her shirt at the top, whilst the other fumbled with the button and zip of her jeans. Halfway down he stopped, as if impatient and slipped his hands into her shirt. She moaned softly, eyes closed lips moving.
His other hand found its way into her panty.
“No, no… please Rajesh,” gasped Sou with what passed for sincerity,” I am married now.”
“You belonged to me once,” said Rajesh softly, through a mouthful of my wife’s neck.
I cursed inwardly as their bodies thumped against my cabinet. Sou had miscalculated the distance and Rajesh had smashed his body against hers with a lover’s impatience. All I could see now was her ass, as her thighs ground against Rajesh.
Unwittingly Rajesh helped me out by pulling her towards the bed.
Sou’s shirt was now unbuttoned down to her belly, exposing her black bra; which Rajesh must have accomplished when I was blinded.
A small movement by Rajesh that I could not see and her silky blue shirt slithered fluidly to the floor.
Sou kissed him again and managed to turn their bodies so both their profiles were visible to me.
Rajesh placed my wife’s hands on his crotch.
“See how hard you have made me?” he croaked.
He rubbed her hands up and down his pants and even in the gloom, I could see the dent his hardening member was making against his pants.
She unbuckled his belt, her movements shaky; and it slid to the floor in a clatter of leather and metal. His pants followed next.
Rajesh answered in kind and soon the two were in their undergarments.
Rajesh relieved her of her bra with practiced ease. His hands closed on her ample mounds and squeezed softly.
“Gods it been so long Sou,” his breath was a soft hiss.
He then bent forward and began suckling on her nipples with sick slurping sounds. He hooked his thumbs on her pantyhose, trying to move it down, but most of his energies were divested, on feeding on my wife’s breasts. The result was that the undergarment dangled a little below her buttocks. This posture presented her with un-seeming sensuality.
As he was sucking on her tits, his face buried in her chest, my wife cast me look.
She struggled to keep her face expressionless, but she could not for long, as Rajesh worked on her.
‘This is your last chance’ the look said.
I could have got out then, I could have ended this demeaning feast, and I could have shown my wife that I was a man that I stood for her. Perhaps that was what she wanted from me, to make my stand; to claim her as mine. But I did nothing, heart hammering in my chest; I did nothing as another man took control of my wife, as he had done in the past.
A sudden loud moan from Sou shook me from my reverie. Rajesh’s fingers were now inside her underwear and were slowly moving up and down the front. He kissed her, struggling with the panty, which was denying him; his complete access to my woman.
As the struggle continued, pleasure soaked breaths gasping through the gloom, I was faced with an extraordinary view of my wife’s buttocks as they jiggled and danced, freeing her body of the last shackles of civilized clothing.
She was on her knees so fast; I could hardly blink, tearing away at his underwear almost ripping the fabric off, till his dick smacked her in the face.
She began working on his erecting organ, her fingers neatly pulling back the foreskin; like a candy wrapper, and started licking at the fleshy pink candy. She was rewarded by an almost immediate expansion of the bulbous mushroom. Rajesh guided himself, rubbing the cock and caressing it across my wife’s face.
She now positioned herself so that I could see Rajesh’s profile, but I could see her enface. Her eyes fixed on me, with an unreadable expression, as she nuzzled the monstrous protrusion, from root to tip. She took the cock in her mouth sideways, and made nibbling motions along its entire length. Knowing my wife she was trying to make me jealous, by displaying a certain possessiveness of her penile prize. And also by sinking her teeth into that throbbing mass of muscle and vein, she was reminding me that I could never hope to give her the same taste, she was savoring.
As if annoyed that her attention was elsewhere, but on his cock, Rajesh grabbed a fistful of her hair dragging her, rather roughly to the front, where he force-fed himself to my wife. He needn’t have bothered, before the night was through, the bacteria on the tip of his cock would be dancing their way down her throat. 

The way she was sucking him was something she had never done with me. Sure she blew me, but the aspects were very different.
To take me in her mouth was more of a chore for her, something she did as I liked it.
But with Rajesh it was very different.
She was clearly enjoying the size, the girth, the smell, why, the mere presence of Rajesh’s lusty manhood.
She was delighting in the meat, they way a child delights in his ice cream.
Most painful of all she wanted me to know, that in pleasuring her lover, she was in turn pleasuring herself, a sequence of events I could never hope to emulate.
Even as Rajesh angled her neck, and plunged himself fully into her gullet, her eyes never left me. She wanted to show me that she would not choke, would not gag, and would not flinch, like those people on television who liked to swallow swords. She preferred cock, and certainly not mine. I was a short sword and Rajesh was a two handed bastard blade.
Rajesh started fucking my wife’s mouth, his pelvis grating against her nose.
Things were getting too intense for me, and I turned away, from the oral impalement that Sou was so enjoying, as to watch any further was to invite madness and despair.
The sucking, choking and grunting sounds continued for a while, but my eyes would see no evil. My wife squeaked, a bitch in heat. I wanted to hear no evil, as well.
A few moments later, my curiosity was piqued by a squeal of pleasure from Rajesh, and I dared a glance his way, only to see that his right testicle dangled, from my wife’s mouth.
I turned away again.
Another shrill squeal from Rajesh, Gods what was she doing to him? He sounded as if all his pleasure centers were being fired at the same time. I had to look.
She was under his legs, which were spread wide apart, her head bent backwards at an almost impossible angle. NO, she was not still working on his balls, she had moved posteriorly.
Her nose lips and tongue rubbed and played with Rajesh’s anus, her head shaking furiously with the effort. Her body was contorted like a damned pretzel.
Rajesh’s shouts of surprise were proof enough that even he had not been a recipient of such wild pleasures, in the past.
Damn that bitch was going all out. She was inventing new stuff! Every primal need or desire she had ever felt, she was delivering now, with unfettered gusto. And that cuckolding bastard Rajesh was the lucky beneficiary of such wayward affections.
Not only was my wife, willing to destroy my sanity, she was completely giving herself to Rajesh as well.
She was not just pulling the rug under my feet, but also my life as I knew it. Everything I had believed about her was fictitious. I had always presumed her a creature of low libido, but I knew now that I simply did not interest her enough, was simply not worth the effort. She had spread her legs for me simply because the rules of marriage and society demanded that she do just that. But for men like Rajesh she would spread her legs (much wider) because she truly wanted too. The realization was devastating.
Only a cock which was truly, truly carnal and possessed Adonis like properties, like Rajesh’s, could unleash her full womanly potential.
Rajesh was so erect now (small wonder that), that the tip of his penis was level with his belly button.
He gently pulled at Sou till she stood and whether she climbed into his arms or he swept her off her feet, I would never know, the motions were too quick, too eager for my aching eyes. I could almost feel Rajesh’s strength as he carried her and dropped her nubile frame on my bed.
When he finally climbed on top of her, I craned my neck and struggled, for want of a good view. My wife had near magically; almost completely disappeared beneath the sprawled massive form, of her favorite lover. A little flashes of white thigh were all I was given leave to see, as she struggled underneath him.
However, more of her bare torso was revealed, as Rajesh descended downwards, and came to a sudden halt, with his face between my wife’s thighs.
He worked soundlessly. A near absolute silence followed as he drank from her honey pot. A silence that was soon dispelled; by the jungle like animal groans, that erupted from my wife, steadily rising in intensity as her pussy was being devoured by a starving and feral creature. Rajesh was consuming her privates as if he was a lost and wandering man of the desert, yet to taste a drop of water, and the only liquid he had found palatable after an eternity of thirst, was my wife’s sweet warm nectar.
Her body writhed bucked and arched, shaking and shivering until the sounds coming from her were barely human. I watched in disbelief as my wife, screamed moaned and tore at his hair as he ate her sex, like it was dinner. Her hands beat on the bed with rabid viciousness, her thighs and belly convulsing as if she was having seizures.
The screams built up to a crescendo, until I thought my ear-drums or the window pane would shatter.
Her howls ripped through the room, loud and dripping with want. There was no cessation as her back arched and her head slammed against the bed post multiple times, with near concussive force, and a savage orgasm laid waste to her thrashing body.
Sexual shudders tore threw her as she lay gasping for breath.
Rajesh rose slowly above, like a hero of old; light glinting of his teeth as he flashed a satisfied smile. I could see vaginal fluids dripping from his mouth, like blood in the moonlight, reflecting off a beast’s maw, just after a kill. In fact I could smell them even from this distance. They awakened a primal need in me and I felt myself stirring.
As Sou lay gasping and unable to move, Rajesh advanced on his prize, after all had he not earned it? I don’t think I would ever be able to give my wife the earth shattering orgasm he had so succinctly delivered, thereby proving without a doubt, that my wife’s descriptions of his sexual prowess were not exaggerated.
He, with slow and purposeful deliberation separated her thighs, grasping them by the toes and placing them on far sides of the bed. Rajesh then placed his knees directly in the middle, and there was no getting around the fact that my wife was seconds away from getting fucked.
Sou’s eyes were closed as he folded her legs, until her knees were resting, on her shoulders. He watched for a moment and then sank into her with a sudden swift thrust.
I did not at that moment question how such a huge member was allowed such easy entry. She must have been positively dripping with lubricants at that moment.
As Rajesh fucked her, she responded little, and with feeble tired sounds; so spent was she. Rajesh thrusts started becoming more savage and powerful, as if he had started taking umbrage to her non-responsiveness.
A few moans…
The fucking became wilder more chaotic, his hips slamming into her with bone breaking force. The bed creaked sorrowfully barely able to withstand the assault that Rajesh was launching on my wife.
Louder groans as Rajesh ravaged her, to me it looked like she was being violated, she would definitely be sore in the morning.
Suddenly Rajesh withdrew, his breathing was labored and I knew he was tired. But I noticed with disappointment he was still ramrod straight. His sexual stamina was astounding!
He rolled my wife onto her belly, and then grabbed a few pillows. He lifted her and placed the pillows under her stomach.
Gods, she was like putty in his hands, he was able to mould her into any shape or position.
I noticed surprisingly that she was clawing under some pillows; then it hit me, she was supposed to offer him protection. Rajesh being a chronic womanizer was sure to have a few sexual diseases under his belt. I had insisted that Sou have safe and protected sex. But in the melee of debauchery, and the unleashing of her long pent-up sexual desires, she had forgotten. Who could blame her?
We had hidden a few condoms under the pillows. But what was the point now I wondered; Rajesh’s unprotected penis had already penetrated her in its full muscular entirety.
She could already be flush with any and all STD’s.
As she offered the condoms, Rajesh batted them away. They landed a few feet away from me.
“You want protection, from me? After all that fucking I gave you?” he snarled.
“If you’re worried about diseases, that ship has sailed,” he said in an icy and almost satisfied tone.
“I know that,” muttered Sou, in a weak voice, “I just don’t what to get pregnant.”
I got the uneasy feeling she was saying this more for my benefit than hers.
“So you’re saying you don’t want my seed?”
Sou shook her head, with an almost palpable reluctance.
“Is that a yes or no?”
“What if I wanted you to bear my child?”
At this her face turned, buttocks swimming lazily into view.
Hey, come on, things were getting seriously, I mean seriously out of hand. It was one thing to allow a wife to fuck her ex, but here they were discussing future (or current) impregnation. He had just told my wife he wanted to have a baby with her.
My throat was dry, my lips parched and my sense of self shaken, as I waited for her response.
She shrugged as if it meant nothing either way. And somehow her nonchalance cut deeper than any knife.
‘Oh just get on with it’ her body language seemed to say, ‘you’ve done everything else to me already.’
Rajesh sick smile will ever me plastered in my memory- a searing defeat of my soul; as he promptly positioned himself behind my wife’s lovely ass cheeks.
And he entered her from behind.
He began his ramming and fucking, and by his third or fourth thrust, her rump lifted up, automatically to meet him. His pumps were deep and calculated, prone to inciting pleasure. He wanted her to feel this, this vile cum-letting.
He did not fuck her for very long, as the fuckery was simply to stimulate him, to spill his seed. He placed his hands on her shoulders, pushing his full weight on top of her as he gave it to her, animal-style.
His love-making started becoming erratic and of complete abandon, unlike the precise near surgical pounding he had delivered to my wife a few seconds ago. Like a man who knows he’s reaching the end of his journey, and can rest satisfactorily on its successful completion.
“I am going to come Sou…” he shouted trying to make himself heard, over the slick splat ‘splat sounds of his fucking.
I could see his ass cheeks clench with every brutal thrust, his balls lapping against her asshole.
Sou was responding as well, and I wondered if she was nearing her second orgasm.
He reached out pulling her backwards, his left forearm wrapped around her pale neck. He turned her face and kissed her he continued his cramming of her sloppy wet twat. She was bent over backwards, and I knew it must have been painful for her, but she had previously as well, displayed alarming alacrity for such contortionist love making. I continued watching as my wife’s flexible booty was getting smashed.
His moans got louder and louder as he began blithering and blabbering.
“I am going to fuck you, oh god I am going to come, fuck…I wanted to fuck you for so long…ooooh…..oooooooo….ahhhhhhhhh….!”
With such exclamations to punctuate his climax, I watched huddled and forlorn in my sweaty cabinet, as the most hated man in my life, released his pleasure into my faithless wife.
His hands squeezed her breasts pink, his hips bucking; as wave after wave of his love juice flooded my wife’s welcoming pussy.
After an eternity of convulsions the two lovers collapsed on top of each other, panting like dogs after a grueling hunt.
I listened to the murmur of their, post-fuck conversation with a kind of detached interest. Sweat glistened on their bodies; they were a tangle of naked arms and legs, clutching each other with exhausted embraces. When all sounds died I realized they fallen asleep.
I felt tears sting my eyes as; I watched the rise and fall of their chests, in tune with their breathing. My wife had fallen asleep with her lover, knowing that I was with her, in that room, sweating in the cabinet.
The plan had been to release me after Rajesh had fallen asleep. But I think by know that she was past me completely. I simply existed like a speck of dust from her past, which she would carelessly brush off her shoulder.
Dark thoughts swirled threw me in a miasma of hate and betrayal. I could get out easily. It was unlikely either of them would awaken (so good had the sex been). I could find that kitchen knife and…
No, I couldn’t. I had a son and he would be ruined by all this. For his sake I would have to bear the embarrassment, the disgust and dishonor my wife had just put me through. I would have to continue as if nothing happened.
I don’t know when or how, sleep took me, but it was small relief.
I awoke in the night, cramped beyond measure. I could hardly feel my legs.
Just as I was wondering what had awoken me, I saw Rajesh in action again. My wife was asleep but he fucked her anyway. She must have still been wet from his previous foray into her. She made a small sleepy sound, head lolling to the side, as Rajesh pounded away.
The bed creaked rocked and thumped, a final groan, as Rajesh pleasured himself, inside my sleeping wife. The hidden man in his cabinet should only give a wistful shake of his head.
A fuck in the middle of the night? I mean, come on; my wife was never that submissive with me. The deference that was being shown to Rajesh was almost reverent in its worshipful extreme.
Dawn light shone through waking me up. Tears and semen filled my cramped space. Yes, the lovemaking I was witness to had made me horny as hell and I had whitewashed my four walls. Don’t reserve any pity for me, just disgust.
I heard them talking, and was thankful for the absence of any physical interaction. I fell asleep again and woke up once more when I heard the shower being turned on. A squeal and a laugh of womanly delight followed. I checked my watch.
The two lovers had disappeared into the bathroom somewhere around ten. The sound of the shower running made me for the first time escape my self made prison, and stretch my self. Clothes, bra and underwear were scattered on the floor, the juxtaposition leaving little doubt as to what had taken place. I was a bit worried that one of them may come out of the bathroom, but from the sounds of lovemaking that drifted outside, there were going to be in there for a while. I was able to get some food, dress a little and have a drink. I also smuggled a bottle of alcohol with me.
I had finished using the rest room downstairs, when I heard foot-falls descending down the stairs. I hid in the guest bathroom till they had passed me by. As I slipped out, I heard clanking noises from the kitchen. Quick as a ghost I flitted past, my peripheral vision catching the silhouettes of two naked people, one male, the other female. I paused for second, eyes on the two pairs of buttocks, and realized Rajesh was fondling her ass, as she prepared breakfast for him. I silently climbed up the stairs.
Once inside I again hid myself, waiting for the farce to unfold further. You may have asked me at this point, why I did not run screaming, from my house. Was I actually beginning to enjoy this? I can’t really say. I could feel a knot of acid in my gut. So, no. My wife’s little flamboyant display, had dissected any feelings or affections I may have possessed for her in the past.
She was lost to me, and only a hollow space existed in my heart, where she had once belonged. Only a perverse sense of curiosity held me in place.
I was just in time, back to my hiding place. I had noted with a glance that during my absence a small table and chairs had been set up.
Rajesh and Sou were coming back up the stairs carrying, plates filled with fruits and honey…and they were still naked. Sou’s hair was wet from the shower and curled round her shoulder in wisps.
They sat down at the table and started munching. The soft murmur of their conversation drifted to me, their happiness burning into me like venom. Sou laughed at something he said, crossing her thighs deliciously. If I knew him it was some lewd joke directed at me. I found my self shaking in anger.
I was able to hear snatches…
“….he going to say if he finds out?” came Rajesh’s voice.
“He already knows about you.”
“Yeah, from before,” said Rajesh, with a mouthful of food, “but what about last night?” he said gesturing at the bed and its rumpled sheets. “Or today?” he said shooting a look filled with incandescent glee at the bathroom, from whence they had just come.
“I don’t know,” said Sou with a tone of resignation, looking down and unable to meet his eyes.
“Come one, Sou” said Rajesh placing a hand on her naked thigh, “when are you finally going to leave him?”
Again, a shake of the head.
“He doesn’t satisfy you, he cant buy you the things you want, you don’t love him…need I go on?”
After a long moment she finally looked up- “I feel sorry for him.”
A small gasp came from the hidden closet- this was the deepest cut yet: pity. Pity, from my whore of a wife.
“Let me put it this way, you’ve been leading him on for three years now, why? It’s because of pity.”
…Three years? Why did that number strike a sudden cord?
There was something very, very wrong going on here, and I am not talking about the fact that my wife was eating breakfast with a naked man. I could not put my finger on it. Then it hit me. She was not at all shooting furtive glances at my hidden location. I knew how she behaved when she thought I was watching her. It was very obvious now, she thought I had left.
She must have checked my perv-peeping cabinet when I had gone downstairs to relieve myself, and on not finding me, had assumed that I had left. Well, well…when you assume you make an ass out of you and me. This fitted the picture perfectly.
Rajesh had now elected to place his foot on my wife’s chair, in-between her thighs.
She gasped, and I realized that he was rubbing her pussy with his big toe. Up and down, up and down, and her pleasure was audible. He angled his knee, and pushed his toe into her vagina. In and out, in and out, he was slow and tender, careful not to hurt her with his toe-nail. Moans once again filled the room.
From my crouched down position, I saw viscous fluids dripping onto the floor from Sou’s chair. I thought that she had displaced the plates, in her heightened state, and some honey was trickling down from the table. But no, these liquids were white and not honey colored.
The bastard was pleasing her with his toe so much that my wife was leaking fluids from her pleasure pot! I mean was this even anatomically possible? It shouldn’t be should it?
The toe-fucking continued unabated, Sou’s hands were now beating down on the table. Fruits scattered in her wake. Uncaring, she thumped harder, her moaning becoming louder, until a final smack with both her fists, that almost had the table overturning, she howled her orgasm at the ceiling. Breasts heaving she collapsed on the table, her eyes rolling into her head, soft mumbling still escaping her parted lips.
“I can’t Rajesh,” she panted, “I can’t do this anymore, I think.”
Rajesh gently patted her on the head, retracted his toe from her orifice and rose smoothly, moving over to her side of the table. He waited patiently till she recovered and sat up. And then he shoved his erection in her face.
“Then what am I to do with this?” he asked, offhandedly pointing at his member.
Gods, but he was big as a horse. His brown genital sausage spanned the entire length of my wife’s face.
I could see by the slump of her shoulders that she was tired. She had had a long night.

But she gathered his cock in her wet sticky fingers, stroking the brown meat. He pushed the back of her head; with a ‘plop’ he was inside her mouth. But Sou was simply not up to the task.
Rajesh withdrew from her mouth and looking around, grabbed some butter off the table and began smearing it on his cock, and his balls. He then took two slices of bread and placed his penis in-between; this make-shift sandwich he presented to my wife.
Stunned, she reluctantly bit on the bread, her tongue flicking at the buttered cock, and chewed. Whatever she tasted she liked as she swallowed immediately. With her next bite of the buttery cock-meat sandwich, her earlier reluctance vanished completely. Hungrily my wife devoured the sandwich tearing into the bread and meat like a starved dog. Rajesh winced and shouted, as her teeth sometimes sank too deep into his cock. When the bread was done she smacked her lips, and began sucking and licking the butter off his cock and balls he rubbed bread crumbs smeared with honey on to his cock, and the process was repeated.
Rajesh rubbed finger-full’s of butter on his anus, and turned his behind to my wife’s face. He bent forwards and parted his ass cheeks, with his fingers. I had the sickly sweet pleasure of watching his buttery salad tossed, by my humble, servile and obedient wife.
Whatever culinary decorations Rajesh added to his privates and unmentionables, my wife ingested with gusto. When he started pounding her mouth with his slick buttered and honeyed cock, her mouth was hanging open, and I could see bits of bread, fruits and other foods swirling around in a whirlpool around the cock and mouth, messily dripping onto her breasts.
“ahhhh….ahhhhh.ahhhhh….” groaned Rajesh monotonously as he fucked the food filled mouth. He clutched her shoulders as he fucked away, and suddenly…
Rajesh exploded, and even from the distance I could see the thick white gouts of semen as they were released from his spout, again coalescing with the swirling food. He still pounded away, his cock acting like a grinder cum mixer, compounding the fruit, bread honey and semen into a palatable pulpy mass. He withdrew and clamped shut my wife’s lower jaw, forcing her to swallow pretty much everything. Which she seemed more than happy to do.
Rajesh led her to the bed, where they kissed, cuddled and fondled. Rajesh then pulled up a bunch of cold purple grapes, from the remains of the breakfast. I knew they were cold as I liked them cold. They were mine of course.
Plucking of a grape he placed it on her lips, and she held it there. He then rubbed the bunch of grapes, along the centre of her body, from her chin, in-between her breasts, along her belly, and over her belly button. Sou gasped, as the cold grapes left a trail of condensation, on her skin. Rajesh dangled the bunch, in-between her legs, rubbing them along her pussy. Her legs tightened, and were in danger of inadvertently crushing the grapes. He lifted them up and gently ran them along her right breast and then her left. Her nipples instantly became erect and taut. Fishing again, he found a cup of what looked to be ice-cream. Again I knew what it was — vanilla, my favorite.
Rajesh rubbed a scoop of the ice-cream onto his index finger, and applied it to Sou’s right breast. She hissed biting her lips, as the cold probably hardened her large brown nipples further. He rubbed, a little more around the areolas, a look of concentration on his face. He applied another generous scoop to her left breast as well. Her body shivered, and I could see her mounds, moving up and down rapidly, the white tipped ice cream peaks quivering perilously and in danger of avalanching down.
“Gods, Rajesh…that feels so cold,” chattered my dear wife.
He did not respond, focusing instead, on applying a third much larger scoop onto the depression of her deep navel.
Her hiss this time was loud enough to challenge a nest of snakes.
Next he slapped more cold vanilla ice, across the insides of her thighs. Her body shook uncontrollably and the Rajesh made breast and belly ice cream-construction was in danger of toppling. But as his impeccable luck with all things feminine would have it, everything held.
Rajesh frowned at my wife’s vanilla covered body, as if something was missing.
Four purple grapes were plucked. Two he stuffed into the tops of the heaving ice-cream mounds. One he placed at top of the mound residing in her belly-button. And one he inserted like a pessary into her vagina.
Then he set about to the task of eating desert.
He sucked at the grape, and then bit into the underlying nipple of her right breast
First disappeared the vanilla pudding on the right breast, and he sucked and bit on the nipple and areola, thoroughly devouring every last drop. Careful not to dislodge anything he worked his way meticulously to her left side, and finished the creamy delight that was her left breast. He sucked and ate at both breasts again, making sure there was nothing left.
“Rajeeeeeeshhhhh…” she moaned, biting her lower lip, as her lover ate the desert off her wet body. Her body temperature must have been on the rise, as the ice cream on her body was melting leaving milky white trails, from her navel to her vagina. Rajesh started on these next, licking the melted cream, as it ran its way down her thighs.
He ceaselessly licked and ate off her thighs, and began applying generous amounts of the vanilla to her pussy; he opened the labia with his fingers and using tongue, sucked in the grape he had inserted earlier. Using the spatula in the cup, he began coating the insides of her warm moist love tunnel with cold dripping cream!
“Rajesh please it’s too cold,” begged Sou.
“You’ll be warm enough soon,” he replied nonchalantly. His face resided, in her love, for a long, long time, feeding off the vagina turned ice cream holder. Needless to say, as the temperatures alternated so quickly inside her body and out, a blood vessel rupturing orgasm followed. And then she was fucked to the very edge of her consciousness.
The bed had become their home, and received the brunt of the passionate and not uncommonly violent couplings that they engaged in. It was as if neither of them had fucked for years. They would have done some chimpanzees very proud indeed. I stopped watching after a while as the love-making become monotonous, thereby lacking its earlier variety. It was quite primal, with proclivity for the more basic positions.
A deep sleep took them both.
My cell phone chose to vibrate at that moment. I tip-toed silently passed the two dozing lovers, opened the door and was out.
I had received a phone call saying that Sou had not arrived to pick up our son from college.
“I can’t understand why madam,” I lied to the college teacher, “she’s always on time.”
“Perhaps she’s a bit busy with her new project?” said the voice on the phone, a little too easily.
‘Yes madam,’ I wanted to say, ‘she’s busy having an illicit sexual liaison, with her greatest boyfriend.’ That struck me as a tad too forthcoming.
“I’ll be there madam.” I said with a sigh.
It was one thing forgetting the husband, but how could she forget the child she had carried for nine months? It baffled me, the lengths of my wife’s sexual depravity.
I finally decided to leave the house. 

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