Both of us come from well-to-do families. Mala’s family is much larger than mine and quite close. She has a sister, Sonali (Sonu), older than her by some eight or nine years, but very very cute (and doesn’t look a day over 35). Mala is, as you can see, dusky and sensual. Sonu is fairer and cuter. Sonu is married. She and her husband (Hitesh) have no children either.

Mala

SonuBoth Mala and Sonu are very skilled and talented in bed, though Mala is unquestionably better. Sonu is softer, genter, more pliant, more giving and submissive. Mala can adapt herself to whatever the situation and the man of the moment needs. She can be aggressive, vocal and slutty like a porn queen with one lover, and the docile middle-class housewife being subjugated by a domineering lover the next. Mala knows how to tease her lovers and to draw it out so that the orgasms are staved off till breaking point. She is always willing to try something new and different. I imagine there’s very little she hasn’t attempted by new: group sex, swinging, anal sex, lesbian sex, the lot. She is something of an exhibitionist, too, and loves what she calls ‘risque fucking’ — sex which is risky, dangerous. Not physically, but socially, something that is liable to cause a scandal if found out. It adds zest to the fucking, she says, a claim that is frequently echoed by Sonu (and others). More than anything, it is this that has always made her hanker for the kind of sex that society frowns upon — especially sex with men that society considers ‘lower class’ or ‘socially inferior’. She sees it as a way of thumbing her nose at society: “They may be socially inferior, but they are sexually superior — and guess what, it’s this ‘socially superior’ lady who is willing to sweat and labour between those socially inferior legs … to suck that socially inferior cock and let it thrust into the memsahib’s cunt!” That’s pretty much an article of faith.

MalaEven while we were going together, Mala and I both had other lovers, she considerably more than me. It’s been an understanding of physical non-exclusivity between us from very early days. I did my usual rite of passage way back then — jealousy, envy, anger — but Mala rode it out. Eventually, I came around and came to terms with the fact that knowing that she was with another man was itself extremely erotic. Graduating from that to watching her and the other man (or men) was a small, quick step. This is something that has worked extremely well for both of us. We are totally candid and open about the other people we fuck with; but we know that, finally, the emotional and mental engagement is only with each other. There is a deep and fulfilling trust and confidence here. If there wasn’t, none of this would have worked as it has — not our relationship, not our marriage and, most importantly, not our friendship. I became a cuckold long ago, as you can see, in college itself. Marriage was a continuation of that, but with a difference.

As I said, Mala thoroughly enjoyed the occasional group sex/gang bang scene. She would send out word (often through me), a group of six or eight guys would get together with her (with me watching) and she would proceed to let them all take her, one after the other. It was timed, too, so that no one felt deprived. With each one, she reacted as if she was genuinely being pleasured and she really was. This didn’t happen very often, mind you, mostly because it was difficult to arrange. We’d have to find an empty house with no servants or anyone. Hotel rooms wouldn’t work, though we tried it once but soon gave up because it was much too expensive and no one had that much money. I was never one of those who took her in a group. Between us there was little fucking but a lot of love making.

Money. That’s the other thing. Both of us were from very well-off families, but the thinking was traditional and our allowances were always somewhere south of enough. For a brief while, Mala flirted with the notion of making money from sex on the side but I put my foot down at that, and she listened to me. That didn’t change the impression most guys carried of her, though — she was widely regarded not just as an easy make but very much the college slut. Somehow, she didn’t find that demeaning, nor did I. We were too involved with each other in ways that others couldn’t understand.

Back home, Mala had a torrid affair going with a next door neighbour; Sonu with someone in the chawl opposite their building. They had two live-in male servants at that time, and they were fucking both sisters interchangeably. They were both young, in their mid-twenties, hard-bodied, dark and sort of good looking I guess, in that cheap, Maratha way, but both were clean and otherwise decent guys. Seeing them fucked by a servant was always a special thrill, from early days.

MixoI vividly remember the hot summer afternoons at her house, when their parents were out. I’d sit quietly in a corner on a stool, my shirt off, stroking my dick slowly, fighting to keep off an orgasm. On the bed (or floor, or in the kitchen or on the dining table), the young servant would be fucking my girlfriend, right before my eyes. Let me tell you, it’s a kick and a thrill that I’ve fortunately never lost. Mala was (is) a complete knock out (in my eyes, at least), with absolutely wonderful breasts, a really sexy butt, slender and willowy. And there was this very dark, very lean servant, hugely hung, with her, kissing her like a lover, pushing his tongue in and out of her mouth, or licking her slit or making her suck his enormous cock … and fucking her unhurriedly. She’d moan and whimper obscenity after obscenity, begging him to fuck her, and he’d call her names. Mala on her back on a high bed, her hips at its edge, the guy standing between her splayed thighs, holding them apart and I’m seeing his huge cock driving heavily in and out of her cunt. Her body jerking with his thrusts, her swollen breasts bouncing; or on her front, on all fours and the guy mounting her from behind doggie-style. It was wonderful.

Where did all this happen? We’d use these cheap hotels or, when her parents were out, her own place which was fairly quiet. I was introduced to her sister way back then and, for some time, I slept with both, sometimes even together. Sonu, too, was sexually active, though perhaps less so than Mala. There was no need for a ‘seduction’ — Sonu knew Mala and I were an item and, one day, while Mala was in the bedroom with one of the servants, I walked out, found Sonu and asked her straight up if I could have her. “I thought you’d never ask,” she smiled and within minutes we were going at it like a pair of frenzied dogs in the other bedroom.

As you might know, Navratri in Bombay is a time when many otherwise ordinary Gujarati and Maharashtrian girls (but esp the Gujus) totally freak out. Sonu and Mala were no different. They both looked stunning in their outfits and we’d go off to one of the huge suburban dandiya raas affairs and, within no time at all, both of them were hooked up. I’d tag along for safety. For some weird reason, their parents thought I was a very decent chap (if only they knew) and only trusted the girls out if I was with them! If only they knew!

My parents died in 1988, when I was 25. I’d just finished studying and had to jump in and hold my father’s consultancy together. I did something that was considered weird back then — I put his senior associate at the helm of things and went to work for another company. Over time, I’ve scampered up the ladder in that (second) company. I own it now and I have merged with my father’s firm (the senior associate was very grateful for the handsome retirement package we gave him; he’d quite lost his nerve and drive in the increasingly competitive market place). It’s about a 140 people now, and growing. We’re quiet (“boutique”, I like to call it) but very well regarded.

Mala and I live in Bombay (mid-town). We have a very large flat on the top floor of a building in a fairly quiet lane near the seashore. I inherited the flat from my parents (I am an only child). It has three large bedrooms with attached baths, a HUGE hall with big windows overlooking the sea, a big kitchen with a separate servants’ room and bathroom. We are lucky to have the penthouse apartment (which we have maintained although the building is not one of the new ones it has lots of modern facilities like a gym and a pool). We also have an exclusive terrace garden which is a source of great pleasure to us. Two years ago I installed an ultra-modern hot-tub cum jacuzzi on the terrace under a big champa (frangipani) tree. The whole house itself is about 2000 sq ft and with the terrace garden it is an enormous 4500 sq ft or more.

Mala had her first affair in the first year of our marriage itself, very shortly after we returned from our honeymoon. I was ready for it, and accepted it happily. It has worked very well for us in all these years, and kept our marriage fresh and exciting and stopped us from getting stale or bored with each other. I truly enjoy watching her labouring under another man’s thrusts, especially if that man is a naukar. Mala and Sonu have a long line of naukar lovers.

A young naukar loverFor a long time, the true cuckold in all this was Sonu’s husband, since hers was an arranged marriage. He never knew that I was sleeping with my bhabhi or that she was continuing her antics with other men (including his two younger brothers). The same was true also for Mala, except that I was fully in the know. Now, of course, Hitesh has fully accepted it and is part of our group. I don’t know how Mala managed it but a few nights before Sonu’s wedding, she got Sonu ‘serviced’ by a favourite naukar-lover. Mala and I watched them. Sonu was in a frenzy and the guy took her over and over again. It was a major kick seeing her at the wedding, demure and chaste in all the bridal finery, her groom looking at her adoringly and knowing that, just a couple of days earlier she’d been whimpering and moaning and panting in a sexual frenzy while another man fucked her at will. I don’t know what excited me more — knowing that, or the innocence on Hitesh’s face.

Today, Mala and Sonu are not the only ones in our ‘group’. Two of their cousins are also a part of the group and so are another couple, Jayant and Madhavi. All these ladies are married, and all are quite clear and totally non-guilty about their sexual activities. They all take lovers, often from the naukar class and they enjoy being taken hard and long. For all of them them, it is not love or an enduring affair or emotional relationship, as I mentioned about Mala and Sonu. It is purely and simple animal lust. They love dirty talk and the naukar lovers are, typically, prone to use really dirty language with them. They enjoy lesbian and group sex too. In fact, Mala often says that the only thing better than one naukar lund to fuck her, is two, and better than two is three!

We also have two or three maid servants in the house whom I fuck regularly. Sunita is the elder one, about our age, but very slender and sexy, though not beautiful. She has a wonderfully slender body and she loves wrapping her legs around me. Another one is Suman, who is about your age I guess, but is really, really beautiful. Then there is Leela who (like Sunita) is married, but has a knockout figure and a very pretty face. And finally Hansa (she is Gujarati, the others are Maharashtrian) who is a complete knockout. In our household somebody is fucking somebody else almost daily and quite openly. I may be enjoying one of the maids or my bhabhi in one room while in the other my brother-in-law or maybe a servant is pleasuring my wife.

We are also members of a very expensive and very discrete gigolo club (it is just called a friends club) — and yes, there are such things in Bombay (where you can get just about anything now). They are too expensive to use regularly but they can provide an escort for almost any purpose. Since we have been among their first clients, we often get first choice of their best escorts. They are all clean and checked for infection, etc, and properly certified (and we also take the same care with our staff at home — the girls don’t like condoms, though they are all otherwise protected against pregnancy). Some of these gigolos are foreigners. Mala prefers dark (not white) men, and so do her sister and others. Luckily our service provides for that.

VinodIncidentally, for Mala (and I think for Sonu) size does matter — that’s a common mistake all these sex advisors make. Notice the curious disconnect here: for men, they say that visual imagery is important for arousal, but they never say that for women! Mala says it is as important. The size of the cock is irrelevant to the actual fucking; but there is a visual and mental stimulation that a big cock provides and which just can’t happen with a peanut-sized prick. Looking at it, caressing it, feeling it in her hand — she says it turns her on even before anything actually happens.

The photos: the ones of Mala and me are not recent. Both were taken shortly after marriage (so 12 years ago), and only later digitized. Not much additional weight on either of us, though in the course of working out in that time I have to confess to more musculature — and some grey hair! The young dude in jeans is one of Mala’s recent toy boy servant-lovers.

I realize that you might find much, if not all, of this strains credulity. But it is true, and this isn’t half of it. I’ve found that there are layers and layers to all societies, nowhere more so than here in India. We’ve chosen ours, and while it’s clearly not the one that is the ‘norm’, one that’s hidden below the surface, we’ve found some real happiness there. There are few things more sensual than waking up on a lazy Sunday morning to the sound of sex in the bed beside you — and the sight of your wife being pleasured by another man!

Vijay

It was just after eight when Vijay rang the doorbell; I looked through the door peephole to make sure it was him, slipped the Ben-Wa balls out and, standing behind the door, let him slide in and quickly shut and locked it behind him. He saw me and burst out laughing. He could see the state I was in. I flung my around his neck and pressed against him, trying to kiss him and simultaneously begging him to fuck me, telling him my cunt was on fire. He slid his hands under my sari and I moaned into his mouth when I felt his big, rough, hard hands on my breasts. My nipples were hard as nails in his fingers. He pinched them and I gasped and kissed him fiercely, sucking his tongue into my mouth.

“Vijay,” I gasped, “chodh mujhe! Jaldi se … jor se!”

“Ahiste, rahnd,” he laughed softly.

He pulled my arms away from his neck, jerked them up around his neck and pushed me back against the corridor wall and pressed his body against mine.

“Chudhvayegi kya, mere se?” he growled, his tongue in my ear and then over my lips. “Mere se chudhvayegi apne aap ko?”

“Hanh Vijay hanh!” I moaned.

He released me and walked away into the hall, peeling off his shirt. He flung himself onto the deep sofa and sprawled on it, his arms thrown out along the back. He turned his face to me and beckoned with his finger.

“Eh, rundi, idhar aa,” he commanded.

I went across. I noticed he’d undone his fly and wasn’t wearing undershorts. His big cock was still in his trousers; I could see the thick shaft. He grinned when he saw where my eyes were. He reached up and put his hand behind my head and pulled it steeply down to his crotch. I moaned, nuzzling his groin, pulling his cock out. He squeezed my breast hard in his hand.

“Le! Choos mere lavde ko!” he ordered.

Groaning with excitement, I took it in my mouth, flipping back the foreskin and sweeping my tongue over the thick cock-head. I loved the feeling, being treated like a wench like this. He pulled my sari up over my hips and slapped my buttocks sharply. I gasped and moaned. He struck me again, and again. My butt tingled with his blows and I felt my cunt getting even wetter.

“Bas,” he said, pushing my head back. “Ab ja, aur mere liye drink bana.”

I lifted my head. His cock was upright, temptation personified. He scowled at me. “Ja bola na? Chul, jaldi kar, rahnd!”

I wiped his pre-cum slime from my lips with the back of my hand and obediently went to fix his drink. I know what he likes: a large rum with lots of lime, ice and soda. I fixed the drink and brought it back to him, properly, on a tray, with extra ice, soda, lime juice and slices and the rum bottle. I put it down on the side table at his elbow and gave him the drink, just like a naukrani would. He grinned and spread his legs again.

“Ab chul. Vapis choos. Yahan, saamne aa ke.”

This time he let me kneel between his legs to suck his cock. With the back of his hand, he brushed the pallu of my sari off my shoulder, exposing my breasts. He caressed my face as I took his cock in my mouth and began sucking it heavily and slowly, labouring over it. The musky taste and smell of it made my head swim with lust. I loved its heat and thickness in my mouth. I cupped and squeezed his balls gently, then dropped my head, dragging my tongue down his cock-shaft to suck and lick the heavy orbs. He grunted.

I reached across him and fumbled in the tray for some ice and popped a cube in my mouth and quickly took his cock deep into my mouth again. He gasped sharply. I ran the ice cube around his cock head, melting it against his hot, hard cock flesh.

“Hanh … rundi hanh … aise hi choosti reh!” he grunted.

Over my shoulder, he was watching the porn flick. He raised the sound a bit, and the sharp gasping moans of the woman filled the room. It added to my arousal.

Vijay made me slave over his cock for a long time. Soon, my fingers and lips and cheeks were slippery with his pre-cum jizz. I licked it lovingly, savouring the taste. I ran the cock-head over my nipples and pressed it between my breasts.

I was completely on fire now. All the cock-sucking, Vijay’s nonchalant attitude, his rough hands on my head and face and breasts, occasionally leaning over to whack me on my bottom, making me gasp and moan.

“Bas,” he announced at last. “Ab chul … mere lund pe chadh ja. Naach mere lavde pe!”

Whimpering gratefully, I rose, my sari sliding to the floor. He kicked his pants aside. I straddled his hips and leaned over him and kissed him hungrily. His hands moved from my aching breasts to my waist. He held me aloft while I moved his cock-head to my cunt. Slowly, I sank my hips. His cock-head burst into my cunt. I gasped, flinging my head back. My cunt began tightening involuntarily on his cock-head. He held me still, with just his cock-head inside me.

“Ahiste … ahiste … ab kamar gol gol ghooma … ahiste … hanh … aise … hanh … aise, rundi, aise!”

It was utterly incredible! I obeyed, of course, swirling my hips in circles so that his cock-head moved around in my cunt. The feeling was quite extraordinarily intense. I gasped and moaned, flinging my head back, biting my lip, throwing out my chest, my arms stretched out and hands on the back of the sofa behind his shoulders.

“Ab neeche aa … ahiste … lele mere lavde ko tere chuth mein … hanh … hanh rundi hanh … aise … ahhhhhhhhhh uhh hanh uhhh ahhhhh bahut khub rahnd, bahut khub … ab chul, tere chuth ko jor se dabaa mere lavde pe … hanh! OhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhAHHH hanh … ab chhod de … vapas dabaa … hanh uhh hanh … ab aage-peeche ragad … jorse rahnd! Hanh uhh hanh uhh hanh uhhh aise … chul … ab naach rahnd naach mere lavde pe!”

Picture it: the peon pulling me slowly deeper and deeper onto his massive cock, impaling me on it … then making me squeeze down on it with my cunt … release … squeeze … then grind my hips heavily back and forth, back and forth … and then, at last, allowing me to move, rocking up and down on his cock, sliding my cunt up the length of the shaft, then quickly jamming myself down on it … again and again.

I was beside myself with lust. I clung to his shoulders, flung my head back and howled my pleasure, my voice sounding strangely hoarse and guttural, my chest thrust out.

“OHHHHH UHH OHMA UH HANH UHHH OH GOD OH GOD VIJAY VIJAY VIJAY UHHH HANH UHHH HANH UHHH OHMAUHHOHMA UHH OHMA UHHH HANH CHODH MUJHE VIJAY CHODH MUJHE!”

My breasts jumped and bounced as I moved, my mangalsutra and gold necklace dancing and slapping on my skin. My breasts felt heavy and swollen to the point of bursting. My nipples were hard as little rocks. My cunt was on fire, in helpless spasms and convulsions on his cock. He rocked his hips up and down under me. His cock went in deep, piercing me.

Faster. He held my hips and began moving me, jerking my body violently up and down and leaned forward and sucked hard on one breast. I cried out again. He leaned back, released my hips and began to strike my breasts with the back of his hand. I gasped and moaned, each blow sending an electric current straight down into my cunt.

The peon fucked me for what seemed like forever, and I couldn’t get enough of it.

VijayA montage: he moves forward and carefully lays me down on my back on the large low square coffee table in front of the sofa. Kneeling on the floor, he fucks me unhurriedly, his hands squeezing my breasts, his hips rocking smoothly to and fro, his cock pistoning in and out of my cunt. On the table, I moan and whimper, my head flipping from side to side, begging him to fuck me like a whore.

On my front on the coffee table, Vijay kneeling behind me and making me do all the work, rocking myself eagerly back and forth, squirming my butt in his crotch, begging him again and again like a slut till, finally, chuckling, he takes over and begins to fuck me. He fucks me hard, holding my waist and whipping his hips back and forth and my cries are broken sobs and moans.

He is still not done with me. He releases me and walks away to the master bedroom with his drink, commands me to follow. Inside, he stands with his feet apart and makes me suck his cock again while he finishes his drink, one hand on my head, almost absently moving it back and forth. I have long since ceased to be a memsahib; I am now, quite simply, his slut, his whore, his rundi, his sex slave, unable to deny him anything he desires.

He stops me, makes me get on the bed on all fours facing the full length mirror and, standing at the edge of the bed, fucks me again from behind, his forearms crossed, hands on my buttocks, rocking my body back and forth before him while his hips grind to and fro. He begins to slap my butt again and his timing is perfect. I have yet another orgasm; I’ve had two already, but this one is also intense and overpowering.

Still he wants more. Lying on his back on the bed, he makes me mount him again, this time with my back to him, my feet on the bed and arms stretched out behind me. I groan tiredly, rocking heavily up and down, crying out as he thrusts up hard into me from underneath. My head is clouded and my senses are now numbed by the incessant pleasuring. I drown in the lust and the heat.

He pushes me off and turns me on my back and lifts my legs up high … and sodomizes me. I cry out, my arms flung out, my hands frantic on the sheet as he drives his cock deep into my rear channel, fucking me up the ass. The pleasure is incredible: sharp, searing, intense. He squeezes my breasts as his cock saws in and out of my asshole. I cry out with each thrust, my head flipping wantonly from side to side. He reaches down and bends his thumb into my cunt and I arch violently, and have yet another orgasm. He grunts and cries out, his handsome head flung back, his body rigid. My orgasm ebbs and he quickly jerks his cock out of me and, grabbing my head and hair, pulls my mouth to his crotch again. I kneel on the bed, bent forward and greedily suck his cock. I can taste all our juices on it. He groans, holding my head in both hands and pumping his hips to and fro at my face and then cries out, tossing his head back. I gasp, whimpering, jerking the peon’s cock, my fingers slippery with his cum-slime. I open my mouth eagerly. He explodes with a loud, shuddering moan. I whimper in pleasure. His cum spurts from his cock-head. It is a copious shower. The cum floods my mouth and spatters my face and eyelids and hair, my cheeks and breasts. It feels and tastes wonderful. I swallow what is in my mouth and smile lasciviously up at him and wantonly take his cock slowly in my mouth again.

His cum is on my mangalsutra too. I take the chain between my lips and lick it off, scoop it off my cheeks and eyelids and lick that too. I run my fingers through the puddles of cum on my breasts and massage it into my flesh. We sink to the bed, kissing. He can taste his cum off my tongue and lips. I squirm against him.

We fell asleep together, sliding into a deep and exhausted slumber. At some point in the early morning, he woke me with a caress and fucked me again, long and slow, making me whimper and gasp as his cock rocked stiffly in and out of my cunt. I took him eagerly. We came together, his cum filling my cunt and seeping over my thighs.

We woke late this morning and, within minutes, he was hard again, moving over me and into me and I sighed in pleasure, arching languorously under him as his cock drove into my flesh. I murmured lovingly to him, kissing him and caressing his hard body over mine, softly urging him on to yet another sweet release.EOP

And what wonderful pleasures these are! Last night, after so long I can hardly remember the last time, Mala and I fucked. This was a spontaneous carnal carnival, not our usual planned love-fest out of town. She didn’t have anything planned, and neither did I. We shared a half bottle of wine, and sat around laughing and chatting, catching up on the news in each other’s lives and such. It got quite late and we moved off to the bedroom. She went into the shower and, after a few minutes, I heard her calling for me. I went in and she asked me to come in and shower with her.EOB

“Fuck me,” she said. “Don’t make love to me … fuck me … fuck me like you fuck the others … like the naukars fuck me … fuck me like a whore, Mehul!” she gasped. “Fuck me hard!”

Her words inflamed me. We stumbled out of the shower, grabbed a couple of towels. We slowed ourselves deliberately, gently wiping each other down—it was a caress in itself. She groaned and fell to her knees in front of me and began sucking my cock.

“Oh god, oh god,” she mumbled. “I love your cock so much, Mehul! It’s been so long …”

I grunted, and fucked her mouth heavily, holding her head in my hands and moving it back and forth, pumping my hips to and fro. Mala loves sucking cock, and she’s really quite incredibly good at it. It’s hard to describe the things she does: the way she uses her tongue, sweeping it in circles around the cock-head, then lifting her mouth away slightly and just flicking her tongue rapidly at the cock-head; the way she gently scrapes her teeth up and down the shaft. She ducks her head, lasciviously runs her tongue down the underside of the cockshaft while holding it in one hand against her face and moves lower to gently suck and lick the balls. Moaning, she caresses her face with it. It’s an incredible feeling.

Don’t ask me how we got to the bed. I don’t remember. One minute we were in the dressing, Mala on her knees in front of me, sucking my cock hungrily and the next we were on the bed, me on my back, legs spread wide and Mala was on her knees between my legs, her soft hair cascading over my thighs, her head bobbing up and down over my lap. I surrendered to her, groaning, holding her head in my hand and moving it up and down over my crotch. She sucked and jerked my cock eagerly. She lifted her head, her eyes glassy with lust, her lips parted and lasciviously dragged her swollen breasts over my throbbing cock, then squeezed her breasts over it while she nuzzled my belly.

“Fuck me,” she moaned again. “Oh god, Mehul, I’m so wet … please … fuck me!”

“Keep sucking, bitch!” I snapped. “You just keep sucking my cock till I tell you to stop! C’mon! Do it!”

She moaned despairingly but obediently went back to work on my cock. I sank back into the bed, revelling in the wonder and beauty of it, bending my head to watch her. It was a treat to see her face distended with my cock, to hear her thick moans and to watch her sucking and licking, her hunger and lust palpable.

I thought of our naukars, each one of whom fucks her regularly, each one of whom I have seen fucking her. Visions of her and them flooded my head, and I remembered how, the last time I had watched, three naukars had fucked her together, in cunt, mouth and ass simultaneously, pinning her thrashing, trembling body between their dark sweating ones. I could see it vividly, her body quivering between theirs, one cock stuffing her mouth, the other two sawing rhythmically in and out of her cunt and ass. The image aroused me intensely.

I went to work. I pushed her head away and rolled her on her back sideways across the bed and moved over her. I pulled her hands up high over her head, pinning them there, and levered her legs open. We have a high four-poster bed, originally designed for a mosquito net, but now draped with attractive coloured swathes of crepe fabric. It has certain modifications and additions to meet our requirements. For one thing, it’s fairly high, so a normal sized guy can stand on one side and fuck a woman lying on her back on the bed.

But more interesting are the fitted restraints around the legs and upper and lower frames of the bed — wrist and ankle cuffs that are secure and firm, with enough play, but padded to avoid damaging the skin.

Before Mala knew what was happening, I’d snapped a pair of cuffs around her wrists, high over her head, and, pulling her legs wide, one over each ankle, attached to the posts at the head and foot of the bed. There was enough slack in the cuff chains for her to move up and down the bed; other than that, though, she was captive.

I tormented her. God, how I tormented her. And there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. Grinning in delight, I moved over her, lazily kissing her, teasing her lips and tongue with mine. I swept my tongue through one ear, then dragged it down the side of her neck, over her shoulders, through her exposed, shorn armpits. She moaned, her face turning to one side, her back arching in deep pleasure. I swept my tongue up the curve of one breast, carefully avoiding her hard nipple. With my fingers I traced patterns on the swell of her other breast, also keeping away from the breast tips. She gasped, her back stiffening in a bow. I ran my tongue in circles around one nipple, my fingers around the other, and then whipped one with my tongue and flicked the other with my fingernail.

“OHGOD uhh OHHHHH uhhh OHHHHH!” she cried, her head jerking back. “Oh fuck yes yes oh god yes!”

I scraped my teeth over her nipple, pinching the other one in forefinger and thumb, and then drew the mound into my mouth and began sucking on it. I sucked hard, let go, sucked again, then gently laved it with my tongue. Mala’s moans were thick and heavy as I moved to the other breast.

“Oh god fuck me fuck me fuck me Mehul fuck me!” she gasped.

I chuckled, moved lower, sliding down her flat belly. Her pussy was smooth and clear of hair, and dripping wet. I gazed at it for a moment, entranced by the sight of her cunt-juice on her cunt-lips. Bending between her legs, I slowly forked her cunt-lips open in my fingers and slid my tongue into the soft moist flesh within.

“OHHHHuhhhOHMAuhhhhOHHHHHHHH!” she went.

Tenderly, I ran my tongue up and down her cunt-lips. They were swollen now, and her gorged clit quivered at my lips. I flicked it to and fro with my tongue. She cried out and, looking up, I saw her biting her lower lip. Her head flipped from side to side. Her back arched, her breasts thrusting out. I saw her wrists straining at the cuff. Slowly, I slid a finger into her cunt and began tongue- and finger-fucking her.

“OH uh OHH! Uhh oh god ohuhhahhhhuhhhhOHfuck yes oh fuck yes fuck yes fuck fuck yes uhhh ohma uh ohhh uhh oh god oh oh god oh god!” she wept.

Her body jerked gently to and fro on the bed. Her breasts looked huge, swollen to bursting, her nipples hard and little rocks. I swivelled over her and lowered my cock into her mouth. She moaned thickly, took it deep in her mouth and suckedit feverishly, her head rocking up and down. I contined to tongue- and finger-fuck her. She whimpered beneath me and I felt the heat building in my loins.

I rolled off her. “Now,” I announced. “Fuck time, bitch!”

“Oh god yes!” she moaned, trembling in her restraints on the bed.

I positioned my cock over her cunt and bent over her on my knees with my arms outstretched.

“C’mon! Fuck me!” she gasped up at me. “Fuck me hard, baby! Fuck me like one of your whores!”

I rammed my cock deep into her without warning, in one long piercing stroke. She shrieked, her body bending under mine, her limbs straining at their bonds, her mouth tearing open, her face contorting, her head jerking back. I thought she looked ravishingly beautiful in that state. Her cry was music to my ears. Her cunt went into frantic spasms on my cock. I buried myself inside her and held still, flinging my head back and closing my eyes, savouring the powerful sensations in my loins.

“OHHHHHHHHHHH uhh oh god you fuck oh god that’s so good Mehul baby yes!” she went as her cry turned into a moan.

I began fucking her then. Not making love, just fucking her, like I fuck the others. Powerful ramming thrusts, lifting my hips and sending them crashing down again, moving faster and faster, flexing and unflexing my buttocks, swinging my hips, enjoying the muscle burn in my arms and shoulders. Beneath him, helpless, she moaned and thrashed, her hips bucking in a frenzy under mine, her head whipping from this side to that.

“C’mon whore, take it!” I cried. “Take my cock, you whoring bitch! Chul, saali rahnd! Lele mere lavde ko! _Hanh … chul, rundi, chul! Ye le!”

“Ohhh uh ohma uh hanh uhh oh uh hanh uhh oh god Mehul yes oh god yes fuck me! Fuck me baby fuck me oh fuck yes uhh oh yes uhh ohma uh hanh uhh ohhhhh uh hanh uhh hanh uhh chul … chul … chodh mujhe … jorse chodh!”

On and on I went, keeping a rapid, yet steady, rhythm. Her body jerked under mine, her swollen breasts jiggling with my thrusts, bouncing up towards her shoulders with each thrust, then lowering, then bouncing up again. Her gold necklace glittered on her tawny skin.

“Oh fuck yes c’mon!” I gasped. “C’mon you slut, take it! Take my cock!”

“Ohh yes baby yes!” she responded. “Fuck me … oh god yes … oh god that’s so good … fuck me … ahhhhh uhh yes oh god yes yes yes!”

I kept at it for a good ten minutes or so before I paused and released her. She moaned, her voice thick and tired, but didn’t resist when I turned her over on her forearms and knees. She whimpered, her swollen breasts pendulous, her gold necklace running against the bed. I knelt behind her and thrust myself into her again, gasping at the fierce heat and tightness and wetness of her cunt. She cried out, rocking and jerking beneath me, her breasts bouncing heavily as I stroked powerfully in and out of her. Leaning over her, I crushed her breasts in my hands and jammed my mouth to hers, thrusting my tongue into her mouth.

“I fucked your new peon yesterday,” she gasped into my mouth. “The tall one. Manoj. He was fantastic … fucked me nice and hard … just like this … called me his rundi …”

It inflamed me, as she knew it would. She generally doesn’t spring such surprises on me. I didn’t mind. The thought was intensely erotic. I rose, held her hips and began fucking her harder still — which was just what she wanted — slapping her buttocks with my hands. Her orgasm was intense, blowing through her like a cyclone, making her cry out and gasp and claw at the sheets, her body tensing in every fibre, her cunt going into demonic convulsions on my cock. I kept pounding in and out of her till it passed.

Gasping, streaming with sweat, I lurched to my feet on the bed and pulled her up to her knees before me again, pushing my cock into her face. Moaning, panting, she sucked it eagerly and swiftly. I moaned as the heat rose higher in my groin. The eruption neared and I gripped her head and pulled it into my crotch, filling her face with my cock. My cum seared from deep within and shot into her mouth, clamped over my cock, down her throat. I released her. Her mouth was full of my cum, and I was still creaming, spattering her face and cheeks and eyelids and breasts, cumming in a huge, copious load.

We fell to the bed, panting. I lapped my cum off her breasts and kissed her, feeding her my cum off my tongue, massaging the rest into her flesh. She smiled gently, wantonly. We curled into each other’s bodies, contented and sated.EOP

Jayant

MehulBTW, I was much fatter when those pics were taken, have shed some weight since and got more muscle. Only thing we told them that the ladies must either come over to my place or we do it in some hotel. I’m not taking any chances going to their house or anything! It’s been agreed at a hotel at 2 pm on Tuesday. Quite charged up about this. Determined to put up a good show! Will tell you how it goes. — M

PS: feeling odd to be offered money for this. Neither of us wants to take it of course but the escort guys will insist because otherwise it’s unprofessional. Weird. Also, both of us don’t want to use rubbers so the escort guys have assured us of clean chits on medical tests. More later.

April 7. Bugger, change of plan! Got another call late last night. They’ve moved it forward to today, 3-6 pm! Don’t know why. Good thing they called last night—otherwise I was planning another morning fuck-fest with Sonu. She was disappointed, but very understanding. She is also very excited about this. Will write after. Bit nervous. wish me luck, chief, I’m on show!

We’d dressed simply, in casual pastel shirts and loose slacks, no underwear, and slip-on loafers without socks. We worked out in the gym before to get the muscles nice and tight and pumped up, took a long steam to get rid of all the bad smells and tighten up the skin. Back at our place, we got our bodies cleaned — shaved armpits, shaved cocks and balls. Sunita did mine and Suman did Jayant’s. It’s a good feeling. I lay down on a towel on the bed and she sucked my cock till it was nice and hard, then lathered it and carefully shaved it down, trimmed my jhaat. In the next room, Suman was doing the same for Jayant. We left in good time, in my car.

As you know, the escort guys are very high-flying. No expense spared. So not some cheap sidey hotel, but a suite at a swank hotel (which I won’t name, of course) in which the escort chaps have a stake. It’s a lovely hotel. Jayant and I met the two guys from the escort service, Rakesh and Javed, in the coffee shop. We had coffee and some general chit-chat. We ordered coffee. Jayant and I had double-shot espressos so we’d be nicely wired. We’d taken our pills earlier — useful to delay the cum and both of us had Viagra and scored some X also. We’ve used it before and it doesn’t do us any harm since we’re not regular with it at all.

They asked about our ladies, remembering them fondly and promising to have them on very soon. They’ve both fucked all of them, and we’ve seen them in action. Javed is quite a stud, hard-bodied and with a nice big cock our ladies seem to adore. They need a pair for a live-show, they said, for an audience of about 15. We could select any two of the four (Mala, Lajja, Sonu or Madhavi). We asked why not all four for the same rate and they were very pleased with that. Said they could do maybe two shows, back-to-back.

I was concerned that the ladies might feel timid or shy, but they assured us that there was no reason to worry. They, too, had been given a cocktail — mostly X and some Ginseng and our Ashwagandha. Works beautifully. They explained that both were married, in their mid/late-30’s. Now they showed us some photographs, not nudes, but shots of their faces and them in saris and salvar-khameez and other types of Indian dress. Both were Gujjus, they said. One’s name was Shilpa, the other was Nisha.

Fuck, they were knock-outs! Shilpa was dusky, Nisha was fairer. Shilpa was the shorter of the two and had a really cute, rounded face with a fine, straight nose, lovely lips, perfect teeth and dazzling dark eyes full of mischief, lined with kajal. Her hair was mid-length, and silky black. Nisha was maybe a year or two older and had a beautiful, sculpted face with fine features, waist-length dark brown hair and large, dark-brown eyes. Both had knock-out figures with really lovely breasts, large and high and firm. Shilpa’s belly was slightly rounded, and her hips were slightly fleshier than Nisha’s.

We were both quite excited. I asked Rakesh if all the action for both was in the same room, and he said yes, but not together. He explained that I had been paired with Shilpa and Jayant with Nisha. I would go first, and then Jayant. The others would be watching, he said.

“Others? What others?” I asked, looking at Jayant. “Nobody said anything about ‘others’.”

Javed and Rakesh looked down. Javed cleared his throat. “Yes, um, well, see, there’s a slight variation … ”

I could have killed the bastard. “Variation?” I hissed, bending over the table. “You fucking morons. What variation? We don’t do this kind of thing regularly, remember? It’s a one-off. A special favour. No variations. C’mon, Jay, let’s walk. We’re out of this.”

Jayant was looking at the other two. “Hang on. Let’s hear him. I want to know what this variation is.”

“Whatever it is, it’s unacceptable!” I said. “This could be a set-up for all I know! I can’t take that risk! Neither can you.”

“It can’t be a set up,” Jayant pointed out in a reasonable tone. “How long we known these guys? They’d be setting us up for, what, 10, 12 years, for some pissant take down like this? Somehow, I don’t think so.”

He was right, of course.

“Listen to your friend, Mehul, please,” Rakesh said, speaking very softly and fast. “There’s no set up, no take down. It’s just a small kink. It’s like this. The only variation is that the ladies’ husbands are going to be there.”

It took my breath away. “What!” I gasped. “In the same room?”

“Yes,” Rakesh nodded. “That’s why we had to advance it. The men aren’t free on Tuesday. The two couples are good friends. They swap. No other outside fucking. Not that we know of anyway. But they’re very tight, very close. Got married on the same day, same venue. They share an anniversary. Today. This is the 10th anniversary present to their wives. They all want it like this, and they’ve taken membership with us. At a huge premium. This is the, um, sort of inauguration of their membership.”

“It’s not that big a deal,” Javed shrugged. “It’s not very different from your lives anyway, is it now? C’mon man. Do it, this one time.”

I looked at Jayant. “Jay?”

He looked at me and nodded slowly. “I’m cool with it. No problem here.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay, me too.”

The guys grinned, visibly relieved. “Good show guys. Thanks a lot. We owe you big-time. C’mon, shall we make this happen?” Rakesh said.

“Lead on, my lord,” Jayant grinned.

Rakesh paid in cash, and we all got up and took the elevator up to the twelvth floor. The corridor was deserted. Rakesh led us down the carpeted corridor to a corner door. He stopped, with his key card at the door.

“Oh, before I forget. There’s a camera crew too. The husbands want a film as a memento.”

I was livid. “Anything else we don’t know about?” I snapped. “You’re way off the edge, guys.”

“Cool it, dude,” Jayant said to me. He turned to the other two. “Mehul’s not wrong. You can’t keep springing surprises on us like this. It’s not fair.”

“Sorry, guys,” Javed mumbled. “We’re a little stretched here. Try to understand. We really want these guys on our side, and we’re going out on a limb for them. We really want your cooperation.”

“Good,” Jayant said. “We’ll cooperate. But before we go in, tell me this. How many guys you got in there, total?”

“The two couples. Film director cum cameraman. Two spot boys.”

“Names.”

“Subodh and Deepak are the spot guys. Deepak is the taller one. Das is the camera guy. They’re inside, setting up.”

“Okay. So five guys inside. And four of us. That’s nine. Okay. You said the girls have been primed?” He meant given some of the potions.

“Yes, that’s correct. A couple of hours ago.”

“Good. Now. Here are our ground rules. And they’re not negotiable. We do anything we like, no exceptions. Clear?”

“I guess, but … ”

“Trust us. We’re not going to cause any damage. Just give them the ride of their lives. They want a spectacle, we’ll give them a spectacle. Any experience with gigolos?”

“No. I told you. This is their inaugural run. We hope to keep them in a steady supply,” Rakesh said.

Jayant nodded. “What about naukars and such? Any history of that?”

“No. Not that they told us in the disclosures and interviews.”

He nodded again. “Butt fucks?”

“No.”

Jayant grinned. “But you hosed them, right?”

He meant had they been given an anal douche. Most of our women prefer it and take it a couple of times a week to keep the rear channel clear. It can’t (and shouldn’t) be done too often because it can cause irritation during penetration with the lining sloughed off; but at least two or three hours before is good, since it leaves the bowels clear and clean and makes penetration easier.

“Yes,” Javed was grinning now. I knew how much he enjoyed a butt-fuck. “Standard procedure.”

“Excellent,” Jayant beamed. “Finally. Your spot boys. Any potential?”

Rakesh was grinning, too, now, and so was I. “Oh yeah. They’ve done time standing in when one of our regulars can’t make the call.”

“And we’re there too,” Javed chipped in.

“No, that’s the thing. You two keep out, get that? That’s critical. Give me the layout of the room.”

Rakesh explained. “It’s the biggest suite in the house. We keep it permanently for ourselves.” That didn’t surprise me. “There’s two full baths with showers and tubs. One big bedroom off to the right. In front as we enter, first a small hall with a passage off to the right that also goes to the bedroom. Then in front of the passage, a large living room with a big couch, sofa, centre table, seating for ten, twelve easy. A dining area beyond that and on the left is another smaller living area like a den with a full entertainment system.”

“Fancy,” I said.

“It was built as a presidential suite. No president ever comes to this end of town. They gave it to us at rock-bottom rates. No problem since we own forty percent of this property anyway.”

“Ah. The legit cover.”

“Something like that, but you didn’t hear it from me.”

“Hear what?”

“Good.”

Jayant jumped in. “Good, that’s very good. Now here’s the play. You go in first, prime the couples. Tell them what’s what, sequence and all. Start the tape rolling, get the conversation on. And remember to tell the hubbies that no matter what happens or what they see, they are not to interfere. It’s strictly hands off from the time we get in to the time we leave. Look no touch only. And your job is to to keep the hubbies on a very, very short and tight leash. It’s a first for them all and for us, so things may get unpredictable. You two only get in on our call, clear? Got all that?”

“Yes,” Rakesh nodded.

“We all go in, but the two of us wait in the passage for your call. You do the talking, get it all on tape and then call for us. Clear?”

“Crystal,” said Javed, looking glum.

I laughed softly. “Have faith, mianbhai. You may still get to do some gaand-maaro-ing. Have faith.”

“Okay guys. Rock-n-roll,” Jayant said. “Time’s a-wasting.”

Rakesh took out his cellphone and speed-dialled. “Das. We’re coming in. Start rolling.”

Rakesh slid his keycard into the door. It opened with a soft click. We let Rakesh and Javed through and slipped in behind them, stepping quickly to the right into the little passageway that held a mini-bar, an in-room tea/coffee maker, had a door to a half-bath, and led to the bedroom beyond.

We leaned against the wall and waiting. Jay and I have been together for a long time and we’ve learned to wait for hours. No tension. Both of us went into our slow, deep-breathing mode, focussing our minds. We were treating this like work. Not just a fun fuck. Serious stuff.

I heard Rakesh and Javed greeting the guys. “Hi Shilpa, Deepesh. Hi, Nisha, hi Pankaj.” I guessed those were the hubbies. I heard the chorus of greetings. “So, all set?” There was a chorus of yes-es. “You girls look great. You feeling nice and hot?”

Again the yes-es, and this time one of the hubbies spoke up. “Oh man, they are so excited, these two!”

“And you’re sure you want to do this?” Rakesh asked.

“Oh yeah, man. Deffy.” The other hubby.

“It can get pretty raw, you know. Hot stuff.”

“It’s what we want,” the first hubby said. “That’s why we became members.”

“And for a lot of money too.”

“Yeah, but we offer a full refund. You can say no now if you want.”

A minute’s silence and then the first guy said, “No, it’s okay. We want to go ahead.”

“Good. Okay, we have some things we need you to note. First, you know the camera crew is here, right?”

“Right,” the second hubby said.

“As you requested. This is Deepak, and this is Subodh. They’re the spot boys. Say hello guys.” I heard two more voices in greeting. “And this is our cameraman and director, Das. He’ll be shooting the movie.” Das said hello. “Javed, you want to lay out the rules?”

“Sure. You know what’s going to happen, but let me just say it once again so we’re all clear, and for the record. You’ve told us that the ladies are hot and, yeah, they look real hot.” Giggles. “But you also told us that they love being fucked and want to be fucked hard by some good studs. Because you two guys can’t fully satisfy them, right?” I guess they must have nodded. “But you love your wives, right gentlemen?” Soft voices mubling yes. “You want to see them being fucked by other men. Strangers. Sexy strangers. Fucked hard, like pornstars. And you all want this?” Another chorus of yes-es. “Okay, now in just a few seconds our two studs are going to be with us. Shilpa will go first with Mehul. Okay?” They must have nodded. He went on. “Nisha and Jayant will follow later. But you guys have to stay right there. No interference once it starts, no touching. Whatever happens, happens. Even we don’t know what will happen. You just don’t get in between. If you do, we call it off, refund your money in full and it’s over. From beginning to end. You can only watch. Is that agreed?”

Everyone said yes. Javed went on. “Okay, shall we bring in our bulls for the evening? Mehul, Jayant? We’re ready for you.”

We stepped out and into the breathtaking living room. It sprawled before us the entire width of the floor with a stunning view out over the top of the city to the sea. Floor to ceiling glass windows on the far side with lots of green stuff outside the window glass. Beautiful half-drapes down the glass panels. The dining table was a large rectangular affair with six chairs, all of solid Burma teak. The floor was a thick white plush carpet. The living area had a large, knee-height, square-shaped Burma teak coffee table swept clear of all magazines and the usual five star hotel junk. There was a huge Roman couch — the kind with curved ends and no back — on one side of the coffee table, between the living and dining areas. On two sides of the coffee table, against the wall were deep black leather sofas with a square side table fitted exactly in the corner, holding a brass lamp with a silk lampshade. Opposite the sitting arrangement was a bureau with drawers, and two large original art paintings on the wall on either side of a sixty inch plasma. The wall that held the plasma ended half-way down the room and, beyond that, was the entertainment den with deep sofas in white fabric, a thick white throw rug, another huge plasma, DVD player, Bose music system, a computer with a huge LCD screen. The den also had floor-to-ceiling windows with drapes and a pair of sliding French windows led onto a small open-to-the-sky space with a round white wrought-iron table, four matching chairs and colourful sun umbrella. I guessed there’d be another huge TV in the bedroom. It was beyond opulence.

They all stood up when we entered. Deepesh and Pankaj were in their mid-forties, maybe. Both of them looked pathetic. Deepesh had a narrow face with bulging eyes and thick lips and very bad teeth. He had narrow sloping shoulders, a sunken chest and a perfectly round little pot belly. He was balding prematurely, exposing the front half of his misshapen head. What little hair he had was limp and oily. He wore a big gold ring with an ugly stone on his right forefinger — something I detest, simply because it’s so damned ugly. There was a thin red string around his right wrist.

Pankaj was just plain fat. He was shaped like a brinjal. His neck had sort of disappeared into rolls of fat and his belly stuck out over his belt and his hips and butt sagged and his chest was so loose and fat he needed a bra. His hair was slicked back. His shirt was open three buttons and he wore at least three thick gold chains on his fat, hairy chest. There were three ugly gold rings on his fingers, including his forefinger. There was a chunky gold watch on his left wrist, and, on the other, a thick copper kada and a bunch of dirty faded red threads wrapped taut around it. His forearms and the backs of his hands were matted with curly dark hair. He looked like everyone’s worst nightmare image of a pimp.

I couldn’t help feeling sorry for their wives, being condemned to these guys. And swapping? With these guys? Like it was a choice, man. A toss up between the pathetic and the ridiculous.

The wives were as stunning as their hubbies were utterly gross. Shilpa was simply bewitching: not very tall, but with the sweetest, round face with a really cute nose and a lovely mouth — the lower lip full and straight, the upper lip slimmer and curved sexily over the lower. Her teeth were very white and even. She wasn’t very tall, and she was slimmer in real life than in the photographs. It was just her breasts that made her look heavy. They were gorgeous. Full, high, ripe, bra size a 38 D cup at least.

She was sexily dressed in a western outfit: a white pullover type top with a round plunging neckline. The pullover clung to her curves and showed the fullness of her breasts, and the tight curve of her belly. The neckline showed a lot of deep and sexy cleavage. Beneath, she wore a skirt low on her hips. It reached just above her knees, and it was cut close, clinging to her full, but not heavy, buttocks and hips. Her skin was dusky and smooth as satin. Her nose was slim and straight and her eyes were large and lined with kajal. She wore a bindi and, around her neck, a gold necklace, no mangalsutra. Her dark hair was silken smooth and held back with a simple clip. She had small pearl and gold earrings and a matching pearl and gold loop on one wrist. Her shapely feet were in pretty sandals with a backstrap, the front cross-straps with little sparkling studs. Her fingers were slender with well-shaped nails, lightly varnished, but without colour.

Nisha was fair and tall and slender with a knock-out figure. Her belly was totally firm and flat and her body was shaped like an hourglass. Her hair was thick and glossy and tied up in a bun. She wore a light dress that came just above her knees, with two sphagetti straps over her slim shoulders. The front yoke was cut low, so that a lot of cleavage showed. Her neck was long and slender, and so were her limbs. She had a gold bangle on one wrist and a simple diamond ring on her ring finger. She had small diamond ear-studs. Her feet and hands were very shapely. She looked extremely fit and slim.

We introduced ourselves, shook hands with the guys. Deepesh’s handshake was limp and he pulled it away quickly. Pankaj’s hand was a fat, clammy paw. Rakesh re-arranged the seating. Jayant and Nisha and Javed on the black leather sofa that faced into the room. Pankaj and Deepesh on the other, the one to the right as we entered. Rakesh stood, while Shilpa and I sat down on the Roman couch. It was one of those things that has no back, but sweeps up on both side in a curve.

It was the right set up. From where they sat, the guys could see me and Shilpa on the couch and Jayant and Nisha on the other sofa. They wouldn’t miss a thing.

Rakesh smiled at the guys. “Guys. You’ve told us what you’re here for and we’ve told Jayant and Mehul. Why don’t you do a proper intro, if you know what I mean? Just to break the ice. Given that this is the first time and all. Deepesh?”

Deepesh nodded, swallowed. He had a large Adam’s apple, like a goiter. He looked down at his hands. He was dressed in a short-sleeved shirt and I saw that his wrists and forearms were thin and undeveloped. He had no biceps whatever.

“We … we’re … we’ve been married for ten years,” he began, faltering. His voice was thin and without depth. “Today is our tenth anniversary.”

I jumped in, trying to speed it along, keeping it cool. “Arranged marriage?” I said softly.

They both nodded. “Yes. Both of us.”

“And what do you do?”

“I work with a finance company. Pankaj has an import-export business.”

Smuggler, I thought. That explains the debauched look.

“And you’ve all been friends for a long time?”

Pankaj spoke. “Yeah.” He had a loud, harsh, rasping voice. “Deepu and I were in school together.”

“Both Bombay-based?” Jayant asked.

“Yes,” Deepesh said. “We live in the suburbs. Our offices are there also.”

Javed. “Tell them why you’re here, boss. Talk sex.”

The hubbies looked at each other. Deepesh jerked his chin at Pankaj, as if to say you go. Wimp.

Pankaj was breathing heavily. “Yeah. See, it’s like this. Our wives are much younger than us. And … ,” he faltered.

“Sex is a problem?” I went in, gently. They both nodded. “Tell us how, exactly. We need to know this. See, if you’re not open about this, if you’re not sure, we can’t help you.”

Rakesh looked at me, nodding. Thanks, Mehul.

Pankaj spoke again. “See, it’s not like we don’t, ah, have sex with them. But we know they want more.”

Jayant looked at the ladies. “Is that true, ladies?” he asked.

The two ladies nodded.

“Go on,” I said to Pankaj.

“We … we feel we can’t satisfy them. I … I’m too fat. I can’t manage for very long. I can’t do many positions. Only one in fact. Nisha has to get on top. Fucking belly gets in the way.” Nisha looked down.

“Nisha? Is that true? Look up and tell us please,” I said.

She turned and looked at Jayant. “It’s true,” she said, and her voice was soft and almost musical. “Every time I have to be on top. He doesn’t last long either. Few minutes only.”

“You don’t have orgasms with him?”

“Hardly ever.”

“And you, Deepesh? What about you and Deepesh?” I asked.

He looked down again, said nothing. Shilpa beside me spoke. “He won’t tell you.” Her voice was husky and rich and low, very, very sexy. There was a distinct trace of bitterness in her tone. “Deepu isn’t … he isn’t terribly … well endowed. In fact, he’s … he’s very small.”

I nodded. I felt very bad for her. “Go on,” I said softly.

“He tries. He really does. But it … somehow it’s never worked. He can’t last long either.”

“Orgasms?”

She shook her head. “Not unless I really try. He … he finishes very fast … and I have to work for it. Sometimes it happens.”

Deepesh seemed to have gained confidence. “It took us time to accept the problem. Even to see there was a problem. We talked about it, Pankaj and me. And with Shilpa-Nisha privately and then as a group. We asked them to open up. We thought maybe swapping would help, so we tried that. In a hotel in Khandala.”

“Did it?” Jayant asked. “Help, I mean?”

All four shook their heads.

“It made us very disappointed,” Shilpa said, and I noticed her voice shook slightly. “We really wanted it to work. All of us. But it didn’t. It was just … just … ”

“It was horrible,” Nisha said. “We didn’t think it could be worse than it already was, but it was. Much worse.”

“I mean the guys tried. They really did. But … ”

There was a minute’s silence, full of tension. This could break even now, I thought. I tried to save the situation.

“And you got in touch with Rakesh and Javed after that?”

Pankaj nodded. “I found a mention on some site. Then another. I couldn’t find a number to call. I kept digging. Then I found a number from a guy who’d been with them and wrote about it. He gave his cell number. I called him and met up. He wasn’t like us. They were doing it for fun. I was very jealous of him. But he called Rakesh in front of me. We had a meeting. Rakesh came alone and took my details, office and home numbers, addresses. He said he would get back.”

“We had to run the usual background checks,” Rakesh clarified. “Standard procedure, you understand.”

“Of course,” Jayant nodded. “May I ask a direct question to the ladies?” They nodded. “Do either or both of you masturbate?”

They looked at each other. Then Nisha spoke. “Yes. Yes we do. Constantly. It’s the best we have.”

The husbands looked stunned.

“Dildos, vibrators, sex toys?”

“We know of such things. We have never seen them,” Shilpa said. “I saw one once in a shop and I knew what it was but I was too shy to buy it.”

“You find the idea arousing?” Both women nodded. Jayant went on. “Lesbian sex? With each other?” The women hesitated. “Please,” he said. “You must tell us. You have nothing to fear here. Be frank. Be bold, candid. You can only win. There is nothing to lose, you understand?”

Shilpa nodded. “Yes. Yes, we do. Quite often. We started talking, then sharing fantasies. We love each other and making love to each other gives us great pleasure.”

The men looked almost comical, partly stricken and yet deeply aroused. Shilpa took a breath. “You asked about sex toys? Well, we don’t have any. But we use other things.”

“Go on,” Jayant said.

“Vegetables. Cucumbers. Doodhi. Carrots. A smooth stick. Things like that.” Nisha said. “It helps a lot.”

I grinned. “Next time try a peeled karela.”

“What?” Shilpa looked stunned.

“Works wonders. It’s an astringent. That means it makes your skin tighter.”

“That’s right,” Nisha said. “My beauty parlor has karela face lotions.”

“When you masturbate with it, it makes your cunt tighter.” There, I’d said. The C word. I wanted to see the reaction. The men flinched. The women didn’t. Good, I thought. There’s hope yet. “You mentioned fantasies. What are your fantasies? Can you tell us a little about those?” Silence. I waited. “C’mon, ladies! Okay, let’s do this. Jayant and I’ll ask, you say yes or no. Fair enough?” They nodded. I looked at Jayant, who was trying to hide a big grin. “Jay?”

“Thanks. Okay. Fantasies. Dark men?”

Both nodded.

“Muscular men?” I asked. They nodded again.

“Big cocks? Big dark cocks?” Jayant asked, and they nodded with more enthusiasm. “Dirty words?” Another yes. “Whoring? Being paid to fuck?” Double whammy. Yes again.

“You’ve watched porn?” I asked. They nodded. “Interracial is your favourite, right?” Yes. “And you dream about being fucked like pornstars by muscular black men with big black cocks?” Yes, yes, yes!

“How about more than one man? Group sex? Gangbangs?”

Shilpa had edged closer to me. “Every night,” she said, very softly. “Every single night I dream and I dream about this … about being … fucked … like that … by a big handsome sexy man … with a big cock … by two, three men … being fucked till I scream … I love that dream … ”

The men looked like they’d been hammered. “You, too, Nisha?” I asked.

She held my eyes. “God,” she said. “Yes. I can’t tell how much. Every time I see one of those movies I imagine it’s me.”

“Your favourite things in fucking? Your favourite fantasy things? In your own words, if you please.”

It came in a rush, both of them spilling it now, speaking fast, the words rushing out. Sucking cock. Sucking two cocks. Tongue-fucking. Being fucked by two men. Rear entry. Being fucked hard. Sucking cock and being fucked at the same time. Being fucked in the ass. Being fucked in all three holes. Being fucked like rahnds by strangers. Every word was like a slap on the husbands’ faces.

“What about fucking the naukars? Taporis? You have sexy fantasies about that?”

“Oh god yes,” Shilpa moaned. “I’d love to!”

“So would I!” Nisha cried.

“We both have full-time naukars. Two guys, one lady. Hari and Mohan at her place, Shiva and Baban at mine. They’re all young. We’ve been wanting to forever!” Shilpa said.

The husbands were white with shock. Pankaj’s hand was trembling. Deepesh looked like he was going to burst into tears.

“I spied on Shiva one time,” Shilpa said. “While he was having a bath. I saw his cock and I wanted to give myself to him and beg him to fuck me.”

“So the idea of cheap, sleazy fucking excites you, right?” I asked. They nodded. “And have you?” I asked. “Been fucked by the naukars, I mean?”

They shook their heads. “No. We can’t. Too many people. Our in-laws and all.”

There was a minute’s silence. I looked at them. “Are you nervous? Excited? By this? Being here and all, I mean?”

“Nervous. And excited,” Shilpa said firmly. “Very excited. Deep down.”

“You’re feeling relaxed and nice and sexy?”

“Bit tense. But very sexy,” she said.

“Same here. Me, too,” Nisha said.

“Okay, relax. Nothing to worry about. We have everything we need to know. Das, my man. You got all this?”

“All of it,” he nodded. He was a smart man and he’d been moving around with the camera. “We’ll edit later.”

“Sure,” I nodded. “You got a relay to the plasma?”

“Sure,” he said and called to one of the guys who were trailing his cables and carrying his light. “Deepak, remote.”

I looked at the two assistants. Already I had an idea for them. I was happy with what I saw. Deepak was tall, slightly round-faced, but lean. Subodh was shorter and more muscular. Both had dark, hard bodies. Both were dressed in dark trousers and loose white short shirts outside their pants. Deepak hit the remote and the plasma came to life, showing us ourselves from Das’s viewpoint.

“Great,” I said. This way, the husbands wouldn’t be allowed to miss a thing, even if their view was obstructed. They were facing the gigantic display.

I turned to Shilpa, smiled, put my arm around her shoulder. She was still tense. I rubbed her shoulder gently through her pullover top. “Relax, baby,” I whispered. “It’s okay. You’re going to have fun. The kind of fun you’ve always wanted. Trust me.”

I felt the tension ebbing. She closed her eyes and leaned her head sideways against my shoulder. I had seen the glitter in her eyes and I knew she was turned on. The X and the Ashwagandha and the ginseng were doing their magic.

Slowly, I turned her face and tilted it back and to one side and put my mouth to hers. I heard her moan and her mouth opened instinctively and I slid my tongue in and out of it, opening my mouth wide so that the others could see, and could see her response. Her body arched. I half-turned my body to hers. It gave her the confidence she needed. She arched further, thrusting her breasts out. I kissed her again, sexily, playing with her tongue.

“Like that?” I smiled into her mouth. “Feels sexy?”

“Mm,” she said, and I felt her hand on my thigh. Good. Postive sign.

I slid my hand down over her breasts. She had worn no bra under it. I could feel her breasts getting heavy and swelling at my touch, her nipples shooting out erect. They were very long and stiff. Slowly, I pushed my hand down and lifted up her top. Up and up, and then over her breasts, exposing them completely. I heard her husband gasp and, at the same time, her thick moan. I bent my head and began sucking and licking her beautiful nipples. She groaned and clenched my head. She was already in the zone now, wanting it.

“You’re a beautiful, sexy lady, Shilpa,” I said. “And I’m going to fuck your brains out. I’m going to fuck you like a whore. Right in front of your husband. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

She didn’t protest at all. “Yes!” she gasped. “Oh god yes!”

Moaning, she opened my shirt and I heard her groan feverishly as she ran her hands lovingly over my body, caressing the muscles. It was obvious she craved for a man with a good body. “Oh god, oh god,” she said.

I pulled her top off, lifting it off her head and flung it aside and pushed her back against one of the rising side curves of the couch. Kissed her again, squeezed her breasts, sucked them hard. She moaned, her eyes closed. I began to pull off her skirt. She didn’t resist. I tossed it off her feet. She kicked off her sandals. I was very pleased. She’d shaved her pussy clean. I love it like this. Her pussy lips were fleshy and perfect. I pulled her legs apart. Her husband and his friend were looking right at her cunt.

“Sweet pussy, your wife has,” I said. I moistened my finger and ran it lovingly down her crack. She gasped and shuddered, eyes closed, head back. “And wet already! Man, your wife’s one hot slut, Deepesh!” I kissed her again. Her hand went up and down my thigh.

Her head was flung back. I pulled her legs wider open and went down on my knees between them. The moment I put my tongue into her juicy pussy, she hissed and moaned loudly. I murmured in pleasure. Her pussy nectar was musky and heady. Her cunt-lips were swollen and they unfurled. I rolled my tongue up and down her crack, over her cunt-lips, then into the moist open flesh.

“OHHHHH!” she moaned, and I looked up with my eyes and saw her caressing her swollen breasts, saw how they were bunched heavily between her crossed arms.

I reached up and fondled her breast, then moved my hand to her mouth and slid a finger in and out of her mouth like a cock. She sucked on it lovingly. This was going to be very good.

I put the same finger into her cunt and she gasped, arching, holding my head. Her hips bucked and lurched under my face. I tongue- and finger-fucked her slowly. Moved my finger back up to her mouth so she could lick her cunt-juice off it, then went back to finger-fucking her again. She was moaning incessantly now. I found her gorged clit and whipped it with my tongue.

“AH uh AHH uhh OHMA uhh hanh uhh OHHHH uh OHHH uh OHHH!” Shilpa cried, her body lurching on the couch, her breasts bouncing heavily. “Oh god oh god oh my god ohhh god yes oh yes oh god yes!”

Das had moved to one side so he could get a close up of my tongue and finger in her cunt. It was being relayed on the plasma. I heard Javed chuckling softly.

“See that, Deepesh? See how your wife likes having her pussy licked?”

I burrowed deeper, now pulling her clit between my lips and sucking on it, letting go, sucking on it, nibbling it. She screamed thinly, arching her back violently, clenching my head fiercely, her hips bucking and heaving in a frenzy under my face.

I stopped. She moaned, despair and frustration in her voice. “Oh god, Mehul please! Please!” she begged.

I grinned. “Long way to go, baby,” I said softly, licking her nipples and kissing her again, pushing my tongue sexily in and out of her mouth. “Now I need you to suck my cock.”

I dropped my shirt and got to my feet. Without hesitation she slipped off the couch to her knees in front of me.

Her excitement was visible — flared nostrils, dilated pupils, open mouth, breathing heavily. She fumbled with my belt and clasp and then succeeded in pulling down the fly and opening my slacks. They fell to my feet and my pride and joy hung out before her face. I swear she gave a cry of pure joy.

I grinned at Deepesh over my shoulder. “Hope you heard that, chutiya!”

Before me, Shilpa moaned. She jerked my cock eagerly, fisting it, flipped back the foreskin, began licking and sucking it feverishly.

“Ohh yes, that’s good!” I grunted. “C’mon, baby! Suck it! Suck my cock! Ahhhh yes … fuck that’s good … c’mon! Take it in deep! Ahhh yeh … oh fuck yes!”

I couldn’t believe how good she was. Constantly jerking my cock, using a surprisingly expert twisting motion of her hand, she sucked me hard and deep, taking my cock fully in her mouth, tormenting it with her tongue, sucking hard, letting go, sucking hard again. I felt her teeth raking my cock-shaft. I felt her tongue slithering sexily round and round my cock-head. Her head moved back and forth between my legs. I groaned, genuinely, flinging my head back, pumping my hips to and fro. The fire in my groin was intense. I held her head and moved it back and forth before me.

“Ahhhhhh yeh oh fuck yes, baby yes!” I groaned. “C’mon! Suck my cock! Oh fuck yes!”

I hardly noticed Das hovering close by, low down, taking close up shots. But I saw the relay on the plasma. It looked fucking sexy. I looked over her shoulder at the two men. Deepesh looked like he had been hit by a truck, slack-jawed, pop-eyed. Pankaj was openly squeezing his cock.

“Fuck, man, Deepesh! Your wife gives one hell of a blow job!”

Rakesh sniggered. “Obviously likes sucking a big cock, you can see that.”

“You do, eh, Shilpa, my bitch?” I said. “Like sucking my cock, eh, slut?”

“Oh god yes, yes!” she moaned, licking my balls, caressing her face with my cock. “God I love your cock! It’s so big! Oh god yes!” And she took it in her mouth again, and now she was frantically squeezing her big breasts, tugging at her long dark nipples. Her fingers and lips were slippery and sticky with my pre-cum gunk. I saw her licking it lasciviously.

Over her head, I saw Jayant gently caressing the side of Nisha’s neck. She turned her face to his and I saw them kiss. Her hands were fondling her breasts through her dress. Pankaj turned his head to them, nudged Deepesh. Jayant slid the straps of her dress of her shoulders.

I steadied my breathing, focussed, centred myself. I regain control. I continued fucking Shilpa’s mouth but the fires were contained now. I could hold on. I pushed her head away and brought her to her feet, kissed her again. I could taste my pre-cum gunk on her lips and tongue.

“What position does your husband fuck you in?” I asked.

“From top,” she said. “He’s almost always on top. Sometimes I am. Nothing else.”

“What position do you want first?”

“You on top,” she said immediately. “So I know the difference. So he can see you fuck me in the same position he uses.”

I chuckled. We moved to the couch again. I laid her down transverse, with her hips at the edge away from the audience, her head upside down to them. She opened her legs, pulled her cunt-lips open and flung her head back.

“Fuck me,” she moaned. “Please, Mehul … fuck me! Fuck me hard!”

I got between her legs, laughed over her body at her husband. “Hear that, bhadva? Hear your wife moaning like a slut? Begging for my cock? Now see what happens! Now listen to her!”

I bent over her and squeezed my cock-head between her cunt-lips. It popped in. She arched violently, her mouth tearing open.

“OHHmauhOHHH god you’re cock’s so big oh god oh god oh god!”

I went in fully in one long, deep thrust and she shrieked, her hands clawing at my biceps and forearms, her body bending like a bow.

“OHHHHHHHHUHHOHMAUHHOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

I began to fuck her with long slow thrusts, letting her get used to it. Her cry subsided to a constant moaning. Her head flipped over the other edge, upside down to her husband. Her breasts were thrust out. I sucked on them, and moved my legs wide, spreading her thighs for deeper access.

“Oh yeh … c’mon! Take it! Fuck, your cunt’s so tight! C’mon! Take it! Ohhh yeh, baby! C’mon! Take my cock! C’mon whore, take my cock! Ahhh yeh … that’s it … oh fuck yes! C’mon! Talk to me bitch!”

She moaned. “Ohhhh uhhhh yes oh god yes yes ohh god yes!”

“Can’t hear you!” I said and, reaching up, slapped her cheek lightly. “Talk dirty to me, whore!”

She seemed to love the rough stuff. She cried out and her hips bucked heavily under mine. “Oh fuck yes yes fuck me baby! Fuck me! Fuck my cunt! OHHHH uhhh yes … fuck me like a dirty whore Mehul … ahhh uhh yes … oh god yes!”

“Hindi mein bol, rundi!” I shouted.

“Ohhhhh uhh ohhhh chodh mujhe … hanh … please … chodh mujhe!”

I knew, suddenly, at once, that she’d lied. She had been fucking the naukars. Where, when, how, how often, I didn’t know. But there was no way she could be used to such fucking, such language, such rough stuff if she hadn’t.

“Abbe, kutti!” I said. “Jhoot bola na? Kya kaha tuney? Tere naukaron ko chodhti nahin? Jhoot hain na? Chudhvati hain na tu apne-aap ko unse? Bol, rundi! Sachh bol! Batah de tere marad ko!” I slowed down deliberately.

“Ohhh uhh hanh uhh hanh uhh OHHHHH!” she gasped. She lifted her head, clinging to me and I saw a fierce heat in her eyes I hadn’t seen before. “Hanh!” She switched to Gujarati. “Banne naukar mhane chodhech! Darroj! Jyaare emna mummy-pappa baporna aaram karva jai tyaare banne naukar hamara room ma avine mhane khup chodheche! Bau saaru lageche emnathi chodhi levanu … koi vaar banne saathe punh chodheche mhane … ane koikvaar amme traneyjun hotel ma punh jaiyeche.” She smiled wantonly at me, her body rocking back and forth with my thrusts. “Emna lund ne hoon etlu chahoonchu … etli maja aveche … jorma chodheche banne mhane … barabar rundi ni jem!”

Deepesh moaned, buried his face in his hands. Rakesh slapped his hands down.

“Watch, motherfucker!” he snarled. “Watch her! Watch your slut wife! Listen to her! This is what you paid for, chutiya, and now you’re going to take it! All of it! Like a man, for once in your fucking miserable life!”

Deepesh cringed, whimpering, closed his eyes. Rakesh grabbed his chin and jerked to towards us, slapped him. “I told you to watch, bahenchod!”

It was beyond what I expected, but I guess he was right. The two had to get used to it. They had to accept it. It was in Rakesh’s interest to make sure they did. And the only way to get used to it was the hard way. It’s never easy. Never.

By now, Nisha was sucking Jayant’s cock, kneeling on the floor in front of him, his trousers at his ankles, his head flung back. She was moaning and whimpering, her head bobbing up and down over his lap. He caressed her face gently, fondled her gorgeous breasts, which were shaped like ripe mangos.

I laughed in delight at Shilpa and bent over and kissed her sexily, pushing my tongue in and out of her mouth. She gripped my buttocks and heaved her hips eagerly under mine. I felt her heavy breasts flattening against my chest.

I kept stroking. She moaned. I kept at it slowly for a bit, then moved faster and faster and faster till I was thudding brutally into her, my thighs slapping loudly at hers. Her body jerked under mine, her big breasts bouncing heavily.

“OHHHH uhh OHMA OHMA OHMAuhhOHHHHHHH!” she howled, her voice getting higher and shriller.

I continued ramming and plunging into her without respite. I was surprised and pleased to see that she was not just enjoying it but was able to do so without orgasming in a rush. I slowed and stopped and pulled out of her.

“C’mon, slut! Ride my cock!” I grunted.

We moved quickly and I sat on the couch, spreading my legs and leaning back against the curved armrest. Whimpering, gasping, not looking at her husband, Shilpa spread her legs across the couch, her back to me. She drew her legs up and I positioned my cock at her cunt-hole. She reached down for my cock, guided it and, without any hesitation, sank her cunt right down on my cock, taking it fully within her.

“OHHHHH uhh OHMA uhhh OHHHHHH!” she gasped, flinging her head back, her arms behind her on the couch on either side of my chest. “Oh god oh god oh god yes oh fuck yes baby yes!”

For a second she moved her hips sexily back and forth, grinding her cunt with my cock and then we began to move in unison, her hips and buttocks rising and falling, her cunt sliding up and down the length of my cock. I held her hips and pumped my own steadily under her. Round the curve of her back I saw the relay on the plasma. Das was doing a hell of a job, alternating between close-ups of her cunt and my cock and shots of her face, filled with lust, her big breasts bouncing heavily.

“Ohh baby yes oh fuck yes!” she gasped. “Oh god Mehul you’re cock feels so good in my cunt! Ahhh uhh yes oh god fuck me, baby! Fuck me! Yeh! Ohhh yes!”

I grinned. “C’mon, slut! Take it! Take my cock!” I grunted.

Turning my head, I looked at the others. Jayant was now tongue-fucking Nisha on the coffee table. She lay there, superb, naked, her legs spread wide with Jayant’s head moving between her thighs and her husband watching them, pop-eyed. She was almost delirious with pleasure, moaning and keening incessantly, begging for more. He had started finger-fucking her simultaneously. Deepesh couldn’t take his eyes of Shilpa and me. I enjoyed the look of mesmerized horror on his face. I cranked it up a notch, moving faster, forcing her to slam her buttocks down loudly on my thighs, each downward plunge making her cry out shrilly — music to my ears — and the entire movement making her breasts bounce and jump like tightly inflated balloons.

Over on the coffee table, Jayant was fucking Nisha now, on her back, on his feet between her legs, keeping them stretched high and wide in his hands, his own knees bent low in a half-squat. His massive cock plunged in and out of her cunt like a piston. On the screen, I caught a close-up of her shaven cunt-lips, swollen and distended, and his huge cock pile-driving up and down, going in to the hilt, rising up, scrunching back down again and again. She gasped and cried out and thrashed on the table, her hands flung up over her head, her lovely swollen breasts bouncing, her hips rising and falling eagerly.

“Oh god yes fuck me! Fuck me Jayant fuck me fuck me fuck me!” she groaned, her head flipping erotically from side to side. “Oh god yes! Fuck my cunt baby! Oh god yes ohhh god yes fuck me oh god youre cock’s so good … so big … ahhh uhh yes oh yes oh baby yes!”

Her husband, not two feet away, stared in disbelief. Next to him, Deepesh, still stricken-faced, couldn’t take his eyes off Shilpa bouncing frantically on my cock. She was about to come. I jammed her down on my cock, held her still, pulled her back against me, turned her face and thrust my tongue into her mouth, my hands on her breasts. She flung an arm around my head, kissing me hungrily. With my other hand, I fingered her clit.

“Beejo lund lese?” I asked. “Take another cock?”

She smiled wantonly, her eyes glittering. “Oh yes, baby! Please!”

Over her shoulder, I called to the two light boys. “Subodh! Idhar, mere saath! Deepak, Jayant ke saath! Chulo, jaldi karo, yaar!”

SubodhThe two lads didn’t waste a minute. They whooped in excitement, and, in seconds, Subodh was naked, standing on one side, his cock — a nice thick seven incher — out and probing for Shilpa’s mouth. Deepak had similarly stripped and was kneeling on the other side of the table, fondling Nisha’s breasts and pushing his really long eight incher into her mouth. I heard the two husbands moaning, Deepesh going oh god, no, no please … please make them stop and Pankaj moistening his dry lips with his thick tongue, slack-jawed.

DeepakFrankly, I didn’t give a shit. The ladies wanted it, the guys had bought it for them and we were giving them their money’s worth. Just doing a job. Just another day at the office. Das was going wild with his camerawork, swearing under his breath because he needed someone to run the second camera and the lights, and Rakesh and Javed, grinning, jumping up to help him.

Deepesh lurched up from the sofa and staggered to the lattice-work grill by the entertainment den. Instantly, Das shouted “Cue relay 2, relay 3!” and hit a remote. The plasma in the den came to life and I heard the sound running from the TV in the bedroom too. There was no place they could go and not see this. You can run but you can’t hide. Rakesh slid backward, camera to his eye, took a shot of Deepesh’s face and then, from behind the camera, shoved him back towards the couch.

“Down!” he bellowed. “On your knees, chodhu! Right there! Right up close where you can smell your wife’s pussy! Don’t want to miss a thing now, do you?”

Deepesh moaned, rocking back and forth on his knees, his hands across his belly like his stomach was hurting. He was right next to the naked Subodh, who was fucking his wife’s mouth. Subodh sneered down at him, put one hand on Shilpa’s breast and squeezed, moved her head deeper into his crotch with the other.

“Abbe, chutiye, dekh! Dekh kaise teri rahnd biwi mere lavde ko choos rahi hai! Saala marad hai ke hijda? Dekh raha hai na aurat ko kaise chodha jaata hai?”

Shilpa was moaning and mumbling thickly as she bounced on my lap and frantically sucked Subodh’s cock. On the coffee table, the other three had split up and moved to the sofa. Now Deepak was on one knee behind Nisha, who was on all fours, slowly stuffing his cock into her cunt, while Jayant perched on the thickly padded armrest and pulled her head into his crotch. Deepak started fucking her hard, slamming his thighs at her buttocks, making her moan and cry out. She fisted Jayant’s cock, sucked it, moaning and groaning in a muffled voice.

On the couch, we changed positions too. Subodh got onto the couch, spread his legs and pulled Shilpa down onto his cock on all fours while I positioned myself at the other end and lifted her face to my cock. Her bouncing breasts were inches from Deepesh’s face. Subodh began fucking her hard, and I could hear the loud slap-slap-slap of his thighs against her buttocks. He slapped her buttocks too, loudly, making her cry out.

“Chul, rundi, chul! Le mere lavde ko!” he grunted.

We drove them hard, we drove them wild. We kept switching, swapping. Now it was Subodh and Deepak fucking Nisha while Jayant and I raided Shilpa from both ends. Then the boys came over to Shilpa and Jayant and I unleashed ourselves on Nisha.

We were getting close to it, and I wanted it spectacular. I looked at Rakesh, Javed, Das. “Manage one camera?” I asked. He nodded, understanding. The other two dropped their gear and joined in. Deepesh sobbed. Pankaj was trembling. The girls were ecstatic. Without hesitation, I lifted Nisha, her back to me and slowly sat her ass on my cock. She cried out thinly, arching and trembling, but not saying no. I pulled her down deeper. Deepak pushed her legs open and went into her cunt. I held still and let him do the stroking. She went frantic, crying out shrilly, her body tensed like a drawn bow between ours. And Rakesh materialized, over her head, his big cock bending down to stuff her open mouth.

The others were on the coffee table. Subodh on his back, Shilpa’s cunt impaled on his cunt, bent over him, bouncing eagerly. Jayant coming up behind her, holding her still, opening her buttocks and slowly invading her ass. Her face twisting and contorting, inches from Deepesh’s as the two cocks entered her together. And then Javed, coming out of nowhere, right in front of her face, pulling her head up and pushing his cock into her mouth.

They’d asked for one lover each. They’d got three. But they got a whole lot more. We took them again and again and they were going crazy, one orgasm hitting after the other, still wanting more. Finally, we ended, three guys to one girl, two of us groaning with the girl on her knees in front of us, jerking our cocks and cumming hugely into her open mouth, spattering their breasts and faces with thick gobs of our cum, Subodh and Deepak holding back because I told them to. I had an inkling of what would happen next. I wasn’t wrong.

It was over, and it wasn’t. We stepped back and the girls smiled lasciviously up at us, their bodies and face shining with our gunk. What happened next took my breath away. Shilpa got up, took Subodh’s hand in hers and began to head to the bedroom. Nisha smiled and held out her hand to Deepak. He helped her to her feet. They stepped around the furniture, heading for the den.

“What the fuck?” Pankaj cried. “What’s going on?”

Nisha stopped at the door, looked back at her husband over her naked shoulder. “What’s going on?” she hissed. “Look at you, you fat ugly repulsive toad! I’ll tell you what’s going on! I’m being fucked, that’s what’s going on! For the first time in my life, I’ve been fucked like I wanted to be fucked. What just happened was incredible, fantastic, fabulous. But I want more. And I’m going to get it. With him. The light boy. The naukar. You want to sit there, sit, you want to watch, get here. It’s the best you’re going to get.”

From the floor, Deepesh looked up at Shilpa, imploring, begging. She looked at him coldly, shrugged, indifference in every vein and walked through into the bedroom.

Jayant and I grinned and then the five of us, Jay, me, Rakesh, Javed and Das, were all laughing. I picked Deepesh up by his collar and shoved him to the bedroom. “Go on, wimp! Get in there. Go watch the light boy screw your wife.”

Jayant had the obese Pankaj on his feet. “You heard what she called you? A toad? Well, Mr Toad, what’s it going to be? You gonna sit here and cry or get in there and maybe get your rocks off watching the fuckin’ naukar bang your wife’s brains out?”

Pankaj looked at Rakesh. “Tell them to stop!” he cried. “Tell them to stop! They have to stop! We only paid for one each! Not this … this … three guys … and then this … ”

Javed chuckled. “Compliments of the service, boss. This is on the house. No extra charge. Enjoy.”

We stayed, helping ourselves to a good long drink from the minibar. What the fuck, the two wimps were paying. We had a second. In the bedroom, Shilpa was going wild with Subodh, thrashing frantically as he fucked her mercilessly for another forty five minutes. She was on her forearms and knees, her big breasts bouncing and slapping together while he knelt behind her, holding her hips and yanking her body fiercely back and forth, jerking her cunt up and down the length of his cock.

“OHHHH uh OHMA uhh hanh uhh hanh uhh OHHHH Subodh uhh hanh uhh OHHHHHHH … chodh mujhe! Jorse chodh Subodh uhhh hanh oh god oh god ohhh fuck yes yes ohhh god yes c’mon! Fuck me fuck me fuck me!”

And the young stud, cackling, squeezing her breasts, calling her a rahnd and a kutti, fucking her harder and harder. Deepesh on the floor beside the bed, his back to the wall, his head in his hands, moaning and sobbing pathetically, but unable to take his eyes off the two on the bed. Subodh laughing at him and, lifting his hips, thrusting even harder into Shilpa from behind, growling at her like an animal and then, knowing Deepesh was watching, bending over her back and Shilpa turning her face to Subodh, both of them in profile to Deepesh who couldn’t miss a thing, and had to watch as his wife sexily ran her tongue in and out of the naukar’s mouth, smiled wantonly and begged him to keep fucking her … to keep fucking her hard … like the rundi she wanted to be.

Across in the den, Nisha, whimpering and moaning, mouthing an endless litany of obscenities, begging Deepak to keep fucking her, to fuck her harder, and the young naukar, cackling, obliging with unabashed delight, bouncing her furiously up and down on his lap, crashing his thighs loudly up against her body, which was bent forward over his, her breasts bouncing over his face, her face bent over his, her tongue constantly seeking his, and the gross Pankaj kneeling on the floor, bent over the bed with Javed making sure he didn’t get up, Javed holding his head up, making sure he was watching everything, not missing a single detail.

And Das filming it all, with Jayant, Rakesh and I taking turns with the camera.

What a way to confront your demons.

Mala’s cleavage

The memories are vivid and fresh still. I remember the look on her face, her voice, hoarse and ragged with passion, the words she used. I remember her kneeling, naked, on the wooden sun-deck, slowly and heavily sucking my cock. I remember fucking her standing up from behind, bending her forward over the waist-high handrail, slowly squeezing my inflamed cock into her cunt, holding her hips and fucking her deeply, the way her cunt crushed down eagerly on my cock. I remember her sitting on my cock, riding it heavily, moaning and gasping, fondling her breasts, flinging her head back and crying out. I remember fucking her on her back on the dining table, spreading her legs apart and thrusting hard in and out of her cunt and then picking her up and carrying her over to the large, low divan, and continuing there, and the way she moaned and cried out, her body jerking and heaving under mine, her big swollen breasts bouncing with my thrusts, her face flipping from side to side, her hands flung back and clawing at the sheets. I remember cumming in her mouth and her swallowing all my cum, and cumming on her breasts and in her cunt. I remember her begging me to fuck her up the ass and my doing it, heavily and slowly, and her soft shrieks of pleasure as I buried myself in her rear channel. I remember her tongue in my mouth and on my cock.

Mala’s cleavageDo I miss it? Not really. I know it is something we will always have and can always have whenever we both need it. I know that neither of us will refuse the other, and, equally, neither will demand it of the other. We know, instinctively, when we’re ready for it, and the time is not now, not as yet. For the moment, we are content with our many other lovers.

Late this morning, I watched her with one of her newer naukar lovers. He’s been recently hired and the attached picture shows you his primary qualification for the job. I woke late; after many months, I’ve had a relaxed weekend. Last night, we were at one of our regular swinger parties. A small group, six couples in all, and all of them in our swinging circle. The evening’s entertainment had to, of course, include a naukar element, since every one of these ladies routinely gets laid by a naukar or three. For a bit, it was hands-off for the husbands. Turn by turn, each couple was brought forward. There were five naukars, one from each household, in attendance — and, of course, our ‘rules’ include naukar-swinging, which means that no memsahib is allowed to get laid by her own naukar. The husband was positioned in a chair to one side of what was, really, a slightly elevated platform in the middle of the room, made from two beds joined together and lifted up on wooden chocks. On that, the naukar proceeded to fuck the memsahib while everyone else watched.

As always, I was thoroughly pleased with the expressions of lust on the faces of my friends as I watched them watching Mala with her chosen naukar-lover. There was nothing staged or put on about it; the ladies were totally uninhibited, and the sex was very immediate and real.

Dinner followed, a lot of general conversation and laughter and then the usual pairing-off thing. Mala had drawn a handsome well-built man named Deepak, a relatively new entrant to our group. He’s about 10 years younger. As luck would have it, I got his wife, Seema. Deepak went off with Mala to our place, and I went off to Deepak and Seema’s. It wasn’t her first time swinging, but it was my first time with her, and I was very pleasantly surprised by her eagerness and enthusiasm. She’s fair-skinned, slim, with a lovely figure and deeply passionate about recreational sex. She loves sucking cock and gives one hell of a blow job. She had me turned on in no time at all, kneeling before me and sucking my cock hard. I slowed her down and then tormented her steadily with a thorough tongue- and finger-fucking before mounting her. I fucked her in three or four different positions — she loves doggy-style — and finished up cumming in her mouth. We showered together (involved one more fuck for the road), and then I kissed her good night and left.

Deepak and Mala were still at it when I returned. They were in one of the spare bedrooms. It was his first time, too, with her. I walked in and watched them for a bit. Of course, they didn’t stop — that’s another one of our rules. The husband is allowed to come in and watch, but can’t interfere. She was on her forearms and knees and he was fucking her heavily from behind. Both were streaming with sweat. I got massively turned on watching them, seeing the way her big, swollen breasts bounced and slapped together, hearing her moans and cries, seeing the muscular young man thrusting his big, dark cock in and out of her cunt. I watched them through to the end, seeing him cream in her face, seeing her swallow his jizz and moan happily.

“Good fuck,” he said to me as he left and we shook hands.

“Thanks,” I said. “So’s yours.”

“She satisfied you?”

“Fully. Truly magnificent.”

He grinned. “Good, I’m glad. Let’s do it again. How about a four-way?”

“Sure. Any time. Some time this week?”

“Great. I’ll call ahead and fix it up.”

“Look forward to it.”

We went to bed, Mala and I, happy and contented, murmuring softly to each other, holding each other close, the aircon going full blast. This morning, I woke late, lazily. More accurately, I was woken, by Sunita, the maid, drawing back the curtains. I groaned and told her to let me sleep.

“It’s past eleven,” she said firmly. “You need to get out of bed now.”

“You’re a damned tyrant,” I grumbled.

“Somebody has to be.”

She smiled and came across to me and sat on the bed by me. I felt her hand move under the sheets, her slender fingers curling lovingly around my cock. “Shall I wake you properly?”

“What a good idea,” I grinned.

I slid out of bed, did my loo thing and came back to find her under the covers, her sari off. I slid in beside her, enjoying the cool smoothness of her slender body. We kissed and I felt the hunger in her as her tongue worked its way into my mouth. Seconds later, her mouth was on my cock and I lay back, arching, surrendering to her gentle cunning. When I was ready, she mounted me and I groaned at the fierce, tight heat of her cunt. I cupped her lovely breasts, squeezing them and she leaned forward over me so I could suck them. Her cunt moved deftly up and down and round and round. I felt her orgasm nearing, and took control, holding her high and hammering my hips rapidly up and down under her, making her cry out and gasp. She came hard and I let myself go, cumming violently inside her cunt. Panting and gasping, she fell over me, her lips warm on mine, her tongue moving gently over my lips.

“Where’s Mala?” I murmured.

“Outside. Fucking the new servant.”

KisanI laughed. My wife really is incorrigible. Sunita and I moved out of bed. She dressed at Mala’s dressing table. I pulled on my loose boxer shorts and sauntered out. I found them in the spare bedroom, the naukar lying on his back and Mala straddling his lap in a deep squat, balanced on her toes, her knees splayed wide apart. Her head was flung back and she was gasping and moaning, leaning forward with her fingers steepled on the bed on either side of his hips. I leaned against the door jamb and watched, enjoying the spectacle of her cunt sliding up and down the naukar’s huge cock, seeing her breasts bouncing heavily. He grunted and heaved his hips up and down under her, his hands on her hips, sliding up to her breasts.

“Ohhh uhh hanh Kisan hanh … chodh mujhe!” she gasped, moving faster and faster on his cock. She moved onto her knees and began rocking her body back and forth over his, sliding her cunt back and forth on his cock. Her breasts bounced over his body. He crushed them in his hands and started tossing her hard on his lap, heaving his hips powerfully up and down, and then threw one arm around her hips, controlling her movements.

“Chul rundi chul! Lele! Le mere lavde ko!” he growled.

His dark body shone with sweat. His big hands slapped her buttocks loudly. I watched her lean forward and jam her mouth to his, wide open, thrusting her tongue greedily into his mouth. They continued for a long time and then she lifted her cunt off his cock, kissing him again lovingly with wide-open mouth and lots of tongue. They rolled over and, on her back, she opened her legs eagerly for him like a cheap whore, calling his name and begging him to fuck her. They’d seen me at the door by this time, but they carried on as if I wasn’t there. Kisan shoved a pillow under her hips and, bending over her, slid his cock down deep into her cunt. She cried out and arched under him, her fingers digging into his sinewy biceps. He began fucking her heavily, with long, deep skewering thrusts. She moaned and cried out, her body rocking and jerking under his, her breasts bouncing with his thrusts. He reared up on his knees, his heels under his buttocks and pulled her legs wide apart and high by the ankles so that his own arms were flung out wide on either side.

“Hanh, rundi, hanh! Lele! Le mere lund ko!” he shouted, flinging his head back. His hips snapped smartly back and forth and his huge cock pistoned furiously in and out of her cunt. Beneath him, Mala cried out, her face twisting in agonised pleasure, her hands lifting and crushing her breasts. He continued fucking her heavily for a long time and she came, moaning and gasping. He kept going for a while longer and then, with a loud cry, jerked out of her and came hugely, splashing his cum all over her belly and breasts, the jizz arching from his cock and settling gently on her trembling body. As his orgasm waned, he slid his cock into her cunt again and they fell together on the bed, moaning and kissing each other.

When she came out a while later, looking fresh and clean, it was hard to believe that this modest, sedately clad woman was the same creature who’d been writhing and moaning like a slut just a few seconds before with the servant.

She squealed in delight when she saw me at the door, and I swept her up in my arms, laughing, and we stumbled into her house. It’s a lovely terrace apartment in a brand new high-rise, fitted with every conceivable gadget and gizmo. Being what she is, she’s put in a stunning rooftop garden, too, complete with a jacuzzi.

She’s not overtly randy; in fact, like Sonu, she gives