That morning, as she got Pinky ready for school for Amar ready for work, made breakfast, and packed lunch for the two of them, Mansi kept checking her phone every few minutes. She wasn’t sure why she was doing that. Duttsahab never messaged her that early. But the two months had made her realize how much she missed his company. And how much she was looking forward to seeing him again.
As the events described above unfolded, she realized many more things about herself and her life.
Most importantly, she realized how much that short but intense experience with Duttsahab in his suite had added to her self-actualization in terms of sexuality. Until now, she had learned a lot from him, from matters of art to using chopsticks to general behavior in high society. That experience in that hotel suite had for the first time, expanded her horizons sexually. Although in its immediate aftermath, she felt conflicted and guilty, as time went by, she came to terms with it. She started exploring her own body and discovered the pleasures it could offer her. Now, she was not as encumbered by the thoughts of morality and propriety as she wondered what Duttsahab had planned next.
Secondly, she realized how important money was in her life now. And how much its absence could sting. In the first two months that she had known Duttsahab, the cash was always flowing in, and it helped her enhance her lifestyle and make her family happier. Especially her daughter. But the two months since, when the cash flow had dried up, she found herself returning to that same old famished state. When a bulk of Amar’s modest professor’s salary went towards their two biggest expenses – a Mumbai rent and Pinky’s exorbitant school fees. Whatever was left was enough for an austere existence, but not enough to fully relish life, much less save for Pinky’s future.
So unable to cut back on her newfound splurging lifestyle, she had ended up exhausting almost all the money she had managed to add to the college account. Amar was never going to change jobs. So it was up to her to keep earning and ensure her family’s wellbeing and especially, her daughter’s happiness, both present and future. So just from that perspective, no matter what her slowly disappearing reservations about morality, she had to continue her association with Dutt for the greater good of her family.
And thirdly, she was finding herself getting more and more dissatisfied with Amar. And not just in bed, although that was part of it. Before the chance encounter with Reena thrust her into this new world, Mansi had been mostly content with the hand fate had dealt her. She had always known that she would end up marrying the man her parents chose and the rest of her life would be dedicated to running his household. She knew she would never have a career and her own tastes or interests didn’t really matter.
But through Dutt, she had experienced a different reality. Where she was exposed to a wider and more interesting world. Where her own tastes, her own desires, her own interests got some breathing room. And the more she realized that, the more she started resenting Amar. She saw that for him, she was just a glorified maid and babysitter that he also occasionally had sex with. She always did what he wanted, but the one time she said no, she doesn’t feel like having sex, he made her do it anyway. That still rankled.
So it was a much more composed Mansi, having had all these epiphanies, who kept checking her phone that morning. She knew in her mind that Dutt would probably want to take things further. And she herself would not mind it. And it would mean cheating on her husband. But taking a sum total of all the epiphanies, she had, well, why not?
It was a little past 11. Mansi had taken a bath, masturbating a few times in the process. She came out of the bathroom and checked her phone. There was an SMS from Dutt.
That’s all it said. She was a bit nonplussed. usually he added more detail. Maybe he was busy catching up with work after his Europe visit, she told herself. Drying her naked body, she went to the cupboard. What should she wear? She thought about wearing one of the western clothes he had bought her. But eventually decided on a sari.
“Going to work, Mansi?” Deshmukh aunty asked.
“Yes, aunty.” she said, climbing down the stairs.
At 11:25, she was waiting for the car. It pulled up at 11:40. Purposely late, as per Dutt’s instructions.
“How was your…” Mansi started saying as as opened the door and got in. And stopped. There was no one there.
She heard a whirring sound. The partition separating her from the driver’s cabin lowered.
“Good morning, ma’am.” the driver said politely. “I am to take you to the hotel.”
“Oh…okay. Where is…” she started saying, but the partition had been closed again.
Mansi sat in the car as it sped towards Malad. She was a little surprised at being picked up like this alone. Usually, he was always in the car. Again she told herself, maybe he is busy catching up with work after his foreign trip.
The limo reached the hotel in Malad. The driver opened the door, and said,
“You know his usual suite, right?”
There was a slight hint of condescension in that question. But Mansi ignored it and nodded.
She walked into the lobby. This was the first time she had been there since that fateful day. Very little had changed, except for a new sculpture in the corner. There were still well-dressed people milling about. And a small line in front of the reception. She walked to the lift and went up to the same suite as last time. She knocked on the door.
“Yes?” a young man opened the door.
“Oh!” she shrank back seeing the unfamiliar face and got a sense of deja vu.
“Are you…Mansi?” he asked uncertainly.
“Please come in.” he opened the door. “Dutt sir is on a conference call.”
Mansi walked into a suite full of half a dozen people with laptops or tablets on their laps. Everyone was immaculately dressed in western clothing, including two young women, one of whom was sitting in the same single loveseat that she had been sitting in. Dutt was standing by the side with a headpiece on, back towards her, busy in conversation about business.
The young housewife felt after months that same old sense of not belonging where she was. She stood where she was uncertainly, not sure about what to do. When she came here, she wasn’t expecting such a big crowd. A few of them looked at her with blank expressions before looking at their screens again. What, she wondered, did they make of her presence there?
“One second.” Dutt said tapping a button on his headpiece, and said. “Mansi, you’re here.”
She just nodded.
“Wait in the bedroom.” she said and resumed his call.
Blushing a little, Mansi walked towards the suite’s bedroom. From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a few of the people sitting there, including both women smile and exchange knowing glances. That made Mansi uncomfortable and also a little angry. What did they think she was?
Mansi walked into the bedroom, but left the door open. She could overhear snippets of conversations. It was mostly business jargon that she had no idea about. She looked around the bedroom. Just like the suite, it was artfully decorated. There was a huge king bed with a couple of night stands. A glass desk and a chair. And there was a big screen TV. Mansi waited for a few minutes. Then sat down on the bed and turned the TV on, flipping through the channels.
She felt considerably more self-assured now than she was the last time she was in this suite. But these new circumstances made her doubt herself a little. The way some of those people had looked at her when Dutt told her to wait in the bedroom…she blushed again. But she tried to put it out of her mind and watch TV. She could hear that the conversations outside were getting lower and lower in volume and frequency.
About an hour passed like that.
And then she heard a door close. She had been intently watching a news bulletin when she heard that sound. Immediately she got up from the bed.
“Duttsahab.” she said in a soft voice.
“Hello, Mansi. How are you?” he asked in a businesslike voice, taking the headpiece off.
“I am fine.” she said. “How was Europe?”
“Europe was Europe.” he shrugged.
She watched as he then took off his suit jacket, carefully folded it and placed it on one of the nightstands. She watched as he took his watch off. And then took his tie off. Was this…was this it, she wondered.
“Which countries did you visit? I have always wanted to visit Switzerland.” she said trying to fill the awkward silence in the room.
As she said this, he walked slowly towards her. She felt a little uncomfortable as he stepped right in front of her.
“You look even more gorgeous than I remember.” he said.
She felt his big burly arms wrap her in an embrace. She had an instinctive reaction to push him away but she fought it. And placed her hands on his side. And then she saw his wrinkled puffy face come closer, with his lips puckered. She puckered her own lips.
And they were kissing.
Mansi was getting a masterclass in the art of kissing. With Amar, the kisses were almost perfunctory. He put his lips on hers, pressed and rolled a bit, the that was it. Dutt however was very skilled. He started by slowly brushing his lips against her, sideways, then up and down. He then placed tiny kisses all along the perimeter of her lips a couple of times. Even in that, he noticed that she seemed completely amateur in this. She just kept trying to respond with fish style lips. And she seemed tense.
He placed one hand under her jaw and gently massaged it to make her relax. That touch had an effect and he felt her exhale and her lips parted. Then he aligned his lips perpendicular to hers and softly started kissing her. Mansi felt a surge of passionate pleasure as the proper kissing started. She responded, mimicking his movements. He moved his hand from under her jaw to behind her head and pulled her in ever so slightly. And every few seconds he moved her head gradually tilting left and then right.
She felt weird when his tongue started probing her mouth. But soon she got used to it. And her own tongue started responding. She noticed that although this kiss was passionate and lasting such a long time, it wasn’t a slobbery saliva-filled experience like with Amar. She then felt Duttsahab’s other hand move from behind her back to her exposed side under her blouse. He gently stroked her skin, moving towards the front, stroking her stomach.
And then she felt his fingers deftly pull out the folds of the sari tucked into her petticoat waist. She was a little surprised and also impressed at this move. On the odd occasion that Amar took her sari off before sex, he did it the conventional way – pulling down her pallu and unwrapping all the folds. But the experienced Dutt with that one simple move had made half the sari unravel. He dug his fingers into her waist again and pulled out some more of the fabric and gave it a hard tug. And within seconds, the sari collapsed in a heap around her ankles, the pallu sliding down between their bodies.
Dutt felt Mansi inhale sharply even in the kiss and felt her fingers tightly grip his arms. He broke the kiss and raised his head. Mansi’s hand went down and clasped her waist and thighs as if to confirm that she really had been divested of her sari so quickly. She looked into his eyes, surprised. He smiled. She shyly smiled back. And blushed as it hit her that she was now standing there in a blouse and petticoat in the arms of the burly old man.
Dutt’s hand had been stroking her flat stomach all this while. He let her get used to being sariless for a few seconds and then quickly tugged at the knot of her petticoat. Soon, it too was lying in a heap and her legs were exposed. Such shapely legs they were. And she was wearing very simple, almost too modest panties. he made a mental note to buy her fancier underwear and lingerie.
Even though Mansi knew where things were going, standing there with nothing below her waist but panties made her feel very conscious and shy. Instinctively, she hugged Duttsahab and hid her face in his chest. His paunch pressed against her flat stomach. He smiled and wrapped his arms around her, gently stroking her back to make her relaxed. They stood like that for a while, hugging and stroking each others backs. And soon Mansi started noticing it. The pressure against her thigh. He was getting aroused. And feeling it so close unnerved her.
She reflexively tried to pull away but Dutt held her pinned to him. And then putting his hands on her sides, effortlessly lifted her up a few feet off the ground.
“Hhhhha!” Mansi sighed in surprise as she felt her feet being lifted from the pile of fabric around them. And then giggle as he threw her on the bed.
Mansi was talking big steps, but was at heart still a demure middle class girl. She looked at the bulge forming in Dutt’s pants and immediately covered her face with her hands shyly and closed her eyes.
Dutt chuckled at this. It amused and aroused him how this married woman, the mother of a 7 year old, was still so tender and innocent, almost virginal. Watching her laying on the bed, admiring the shapely smooth legs and the heaving mounds under her blouse, he slowly slipped off his shirt and undershirt. Then he took off his pants and got on the bed wearing just boxer shorts.
Mansi felt the mattress move as the big old guy got on the bed. She was still covering her face. And having a few conflicting thoughts. But the part of her saying she shouldn’t be doing this was getting smaller and smaller.
She felt her right ankle being grabbed and pulled up. And just like last time, she felt his tongue and lips on her toes. Then the other leg was lifted. And then her legs were pressed together but folded in the knees as Dutt sat on the bed sucking her toes one at a time, massaging her calves. He smiled when he saw one hand leave Mansi’s face. her eyes were still closed, but that right hand, as if moving my itself, slipped into her panties.
He was amused to see her playing with her clit so shamelessly. He let her do it for a few while and then sharply said,
“Don’t do that!”
her hand stopped. Then left her panties and lay limply by her side. Dutt let go of her legs and slid upwards, grabbing that hand. He started licking her fingers one by one, really hard, just like the toes, and stroked the back of her upper arm. That gave Mansi goosebumps. She had no idea something as banal as the back of your arm, if stroked properly, could make her feel excited.
Dutt took her other hand and repeated the procedure. Her eyes were still closed, but her face wore a happy smile. he looked at those luscious lips and was eager to see them wrapped around his dick. But he assumed, correctly, that she had probably never given a blowjob in her life. So he decided to leave it for later.
Mansi felt her hands being let go. And then she felt his fingers at the front of her blouse, unhooking it. Finally, she thought to herself, he is paying attention to her breasts. She she was in for a surprise. Once Dutt opened the blouse completely, he rolled her over on her stomach. No interest in her larger than average boobs, she wondered. His hands tugged at her blouse. She raised her arms so he could pull it off.
She then felt his stubble and lips as they started kissing her back, starting at her waist. She didn’t know that Dutt had this technique for first time seductions. Arouse a woman by stimulating all the other parts of her body before moving to the “main” items. This makes her almost anticipate it and long for it, and when it happens, she feels thankful.
As his lips planted kisses all over back back and shoulders, his fingers, she noticed, were stroking the back of her thighs. Not her butt or her private parts, but her thighs. And yet it was filling her with a surge of arousal. She felt his teeth stop at her bra. Then she had an odd sensation as she felt he was biting her bra. And suddenly it loosened. This really amazed her. Amar had to make half a dozen attempts even with his fingers to unhook her bra. And this old man had done it with one motion of his teeth.
Dutt unhooked the bra, but didn’t take it off. He let it rest like that between her boobs and the bed. Now for all practical purposes, the only item of clothing on her body was her panties. She wondered when they would come off. She felt a fire in her loins and was desperate for release.
But Dutt was in no hurry.
She felt him straddle her, knees on either side of her waist. She then sensed him moving lower until he was at her feet. And then she felt his thick raspy tongue at the bottom of her middle left toe. She cringed a little as his tongue started moving up the bottom of her feet. What was he doing? That part was unclean. But thoughts of hygiene were soon replaced by arousal as the tongue slowly made its way up the back of her left leg. Parallely, his fingers were stroking the same path up her right leg. When he crossed her calved and the back of her knee, she shivered. When it started going up her back with the fingers in tandem. She shuddered.
“Ohhh god!!” she softly said as the tongue gently flicked her shoulder blades and made its way to the back of her neck.
And when he kicked her neck ending at the back of her ear, she was shocked. Her body started vibrating and her loins were on fire. Was she…was shaving an…
Mansi cried out as her body quaked through a small orgasm. Dutt kept licking and stroking her neck throughout, feeling very proud of himself. This didn’t happen very often. In the dozens of women he had bedded over the years, he had managed to make only a couple of them have an orgasm by just stimulating the other parts of their body. Much like Mansi, they had been inexperienced and often sex starved repressed women. He had hoped to be able to add Mansi to the list and he had succeeded.
“Wha…wha…” Mansi said confused. The orgasm hadn’t been as big as the ones she had using her fingers or the phone on her clit. But it was a wave of pleasure nonetheless. Was this man a magician, managing to do it without once touching her down there?
He let her come to terms with the orgasm for a few seconds and then pulled her by the shoulder to turn her over. Her eyes were now open and a bit glazed, staring at her elderly lover. The unhooked bra stayed on the bed and Mansi’s breasts were revealed for the first time. He was impressed. They were big, but with no sad. Firmly shaped, and with prominent pink nipples which were rock hard. And nestled in her cleavage, was her simple mangalsutra.
“Take your panties off.”
This was another ritual he followed with first seductions. He may take off all other items of clothing, but he always asked the woman to take off the panties herself. To make her realize, consciously or subconsciously, that she was the one who wanted this.
Mansi put her thumbs in the waistband and hesitated for a few seconds. She had come very far already, farther than she could have imagined a few months ago. But this really was the last step. If she went through with this, she would be completely naked, in the company of a man who was not her husband. She had a moment of doubt. But then her eyes fell on the big tent formed in his boxers, and she knew she wanted it.
Dutt watched triumphantly as the once demure and chaste housewife raise her legs and slipped off the last vestige of modesty and fidelity from her body. He got a glimpse of how smooth and perfectly shaped her buttocks were. How her thighs were free of any cellulite or flab. And finally, her pussy.
She had a naturally sparse bush down there, which he appreciated. Many of the Indian women he slept with had such a thick jungle down there that it looked unseemly. Mansi was blessed with a more attractive set of public hair.
She saw him looking at her most private parts and that sense of shame returned. Again she closed her eyes and covered her face. She felt him move between her thighs and hold her knees apart. This was it. It was happening. From the bulge, she could make out that he was larger than Amar. Would she be able to accommodate him? Many times she felt stretched even with Amar’s penis.
Her thighs shivered in anticipation as she felt Dutt move. Soon his penis would be at her…
“What are you doing???” she cried out, and propped herself up on her elbows. Her eyes had opened at the shock of not feeling the hardness of a penis but the wetness of a…tongue?
Sure enough, she saw Dutt’s wrinkle old face and half band head between her thighs. He was licking her?? She was vaguely aware that people did such things, but always found the idea too westernized and perverted.
Dutt ignored her question and the tip of his tongue found her clit. And with one stroke, it made her shoulders fall back on the bed again. Another jolt of pleasure.
Dutt flicked her clit and played with it, but with restraint. He did not want her to have another orgasm. He just wanted to tease her to the edge of one, and then pull back. Keep doing that and she would literally be begging to be fucked. He liked it when married young women begged him for sex.
Mansi writhed and shivered in pleasure, waiting for the big climax. As she did, her mangalsutra jiggled around her boobs.
“And what are YOU doing?” Dutt raised his face and asked sternly.
Mansi paused and looked at him, the mangalsutra halfway up her head.
“Taking this off.” she whispered.
“No, you cannot take it off. It has to stay on.” he said with a tone of finality.
What did he mean it has to stay on? Is he crazy? As it is, here she was, naked on his bed, cheating on her husband. Surely he could understand why she would not want to have the ultimate symbol of her marriage in her sight when she did so. But he had said what he wanted. And she never seemed to be able to defy him. Soon the mangalsutra was back jiggling between her legs as she gave herself in to Dutt’s tongue.
Dutt took great pleasure in the calculated cunnilingus he was giving his latest conquest. He used the old tried and tested trick of using his tip of tongue to trace letters of the alphabet on her clit, gradually increasing the pressure. By H, he could see her boobs jiggle and heave as she breathed harder. By P, he saw her fingers tightly grip the bed sheet. By T, he could feel her hips pushing back and writhing, and knew that she was close to an orgasm. At W he stopped and took a break. Mansi let out a slightly disappointed moan when his tongue moved away.
He gently stroked the entrance of her cunt. He could literally see the wetness. He started again from A. This time he had barely reached L when he saw she was on the verge. He pulled away.
“Noooooo!” she said loudly this time. “Keep going.”
Her right hand reached towards her clit. He slapped it away. She looked at him. He was sliding how shorts down. An erect thick dick sprang up and down. Reflexively she looked away out of shame. She could sense his body moving higher. She felt his hands on her knees, folding her legs and then spreading them apart.
“Look at me.” he ordered.
She did, and saw his thick white chest hair a foot or two away from her. She looked up at his face, which was tranquil. She felt his paunch gently rest her flat stomach. That was a new sensation. Amar was a lean man. The belly obstructed her view of what was happening beneath. But she could feel his erect and slightly moist dick slap against her thighs.
Dutt grabbed her wrists and pulled her hand together up over her head. Then he lowered his face. She closed her eyes and opened her lips slightly. He kissed her and at the exact same moment, pushed the tip of his dick at the entrance of her pussy. Again, purely on instinct, he felt her hips try to pull away, but when push back. She was kissing him very passionately now, as opposed to earlier when he was doing most of the work. He kissed her back and kept his dick just like that.
Mansi’s brain was trying to comprehend everything that was happening. The kiss, the unfamiliar touch of his naked body on top of hers. The way his fingers were now interlocking with hers above her head. And of course the tip of her penis firmly resting at the entrance of her vagina. Why was it just there? Her butt and thighs were moving ever so slightly towards it but it didn’t proceed. She broke the kiss and whispered.
“Why are you…what are you…waiting for?”
“What?” Dutt smiled.
“Why don’t you…put it in?” she blushed even at that moment.
“Put what in?”
“Please what? I want you to say it.”
“Please…” she paused for the longest time unable to get the next few words out. “…just make love to me.”
“Are you sure?”
She eagerly nodded. And then closed her eyes and groaned as the thick head of the old man’s cock invaded her cunt. Her back arched and her thighs stiffened at the invasion. Dutt noted that she was tight, but wet enough.
“Slow…” she said as the thick shaft made its way inside her cunt. She realized what a significant moment this was, but was worried about pain.
And then she was pleasantly surprised when Dutt complied and continued the penetration at an almost glacial pace. She had a naturally narrow vagina. Even child birth had been hard on her. All these years later, she still felt a little pain when Amar penetrated her too fast. She often begged him to slow down. But Amar wasn’t really wired to listen to her in that moment. He would be in a hurry and often just rammed it in.
Dutt was cut from a different cloth. He knew that the best approach to such things is slow and steady, especially early on. So he was gentle in penetrating her, moving slowly, stopping often, letting her cunt get used to his girth. Which made Mansi happy and also a lot more aroused. There was a slight discomfort because of his girth. But no real pain. Her insides were getting enough time to adjust to his presence. And she was feeling the natural surge of pleasure that accompanies a properly done penetration. The real fucking had just barely begun and Mansi’s brain already declared that this was the best sex of her life.
Dutt looked at her open mouth and closed eyes, her flaring nostrils and heaving chest, as his dick surged in slowly. And then he felt his balls land against her ass. Mansi felt it too because she opened her eyes and looked into Dutt’s. She could not believe how gently and expertly he had penetrated her fully.
“Do you like that?” he asked.
She shyly nodded.
“Do you want more?”
She was confused. Of course she wanted more.
“Then…” he slid one arm under her shoulder. “…let’s see how much you want it.”
Mansi gave a startled cry as she unexpectedly felt her body being pulled up. Dutt’s torso was leaning backwards. He pulled her with him, dick still buried deep in her cunt. And soon was on his back. He let go of her shoulder and Mansi found herself sitting on top of her old lover, still penetrated. Her legs were in an uncomfortable postion so she instinctively folded them so her shins were on the bed. And she was straddling the old man.
Resting her palms on his paunch for balance, she looked at him confused. This was unfamiliar territory for her. Never in all these years had she ever been on top of her husband during sex. The weight of her body had made Dutt’s cock penetrate her a little deeper and she loved that feeling. But she wasn’t sure what followed next. In her universe, a woman just laid there and took it as the man did the fucking.
“Go on.” Dutt smiled and said.
“I have…” she said and stopped.
“You have never fucked in this position?” he simply asked. But the use of the word fuck made the chaste housewife blush.
He was surprised and amused when she just threw her face down into his hairy chest and hugged him. He gently stroked her thick hair and said,
“Just do what feels natural.”
He looked past her at the mirror at the head of the bed and admired how lovely her young tight naked ass looked resting on his hairy old legs. How his thick dick was entirely buried in her cunt. And noted how her big supple breats were mashed against his chest and tummy. She just lay there stuck to him, her hand on his shoulder, not moving. Semed like this shy gorgeous housewife was not aware of her own body’s potential and had no idea how to take the lead.
For a moment, he considered just flipping her over and starting it himself. But this was another ritual he took seriously. Always start with woman on top, so she is the one doing all the work. And realizes she is the one who wants it more than him.
He put his big hairy hands on her hips. Gently he pushed her ass downwards and inch, then pulled it back up. He felt her inhale sharply as this made his dick and the insides of her cunt gain friction. He did it again a couple of times and noticed that she was now moving her hips herself. He just placed his hands on her ample smooth ass cheeks without applying any pressure. And noted that she had started moving like that by herself.
Mansi had started off feeling confuse, shy, and conflicted about this position. But soon she got into the basic rhythm. Her face still resting on the old man’s hairly chest, she slid her ass towards his stomach and then away from his stomach. And noted how unfamiliarly great the sensation felt. Soon she got comfortable enough to raise her face. She looked at Dutt who was smiling. Then, continuing the motion of her hips, she put her palms on his chest and raised her torso.
And soon Dutt was looking at her ample tits and erect pink nipples rubbing against his chest as the young housewife on top of him started fucking him in an ever so slightly increasing tempo.
Here it is, old man, Dutt said to himself. Yet another young housewife willing fucking you on top. This one took a little longer than the others, but the wait was worth it, he said as he alternated between staring at her big tits swinging in front of his face and looking at the lusty expression on her face. He then locked his fingers into hers and held her arms up.
Mansi notice that this support from his thick burly arms raised her torso a little bit more and gave her even more leverage to move. She started moving her hips faster back and forth, relishing the sensations it was creating inside her. Why did this feel so much better than when Amar made love to her, she wondered. It couldn’t just be the bigger penis. There was something else. With this position, his penis stayed buried inside her the whole time and it pushed against the front walls and back walls of her vagina. With Amar it was different. Difficult as it was to, she tried to remember how Amar did it. That was in and out.
Dutt chuckled a little when Mansi stopped moving back and forth and suddenly raised her ass and dropped it back down a few times. He thought she was getting experimental. She was just trying to compare the two motions. Yes, she said to herself, when she went up and down in the air, it was similar to what Amar did. It still felt nice, but the back and forth motion felt better for her. And then she got experimental. Instead of back and forth, she moved her ass in a circular counter clockwise fashion.
Oooh, this feels good too, she said to herself, Dutt was delighted at how enthusiastically she was now committed to this act. Moving her ass back and forth, and in a circular motion alternately. He could also feel the insides of her cunt pulse as the muscle alternately gripped and relaxed around his dick. Her unlocked his fingers from her right hand.
“Put your palm behind on you on thighs.”
Mansi did as was told, with the eagerness of student. He let the other hand go.
“Now the other hand.”
Now she was leaning back, her hips still moving. That made his dick rub even harder against the front of her vagina, against the mythical g-spot. And it created an incredibly powerful sensation.
Mansi cried out and throwing her head back, sped up the back and forth motion. Oh, how great this felt. What a magician this man was. Everything he did and everything he told her to do just added to her pleasure.
Dutt looked approvingly at her sparse bush past his belly as the young housewife, leaning backwards on top of his, started fucking him harder and harder with each passing second. The motion made her boobs swing around in a circular fashion on her chest. How trashy yet erotic she looked. And how uninhibited and carefree her movements were. Gone was the shy diffident and repressed housewife. Here was a young woman in her prime discovering what sex really could be.
“Unhhhh unnnnNNHHHH…” Mansi started groaning.
Dutt knew what was happening, but Mansi’s lust-addled inexperienced brain was in the throes of pleasant confusion. Dutt had introduced her to the concept of an orgasm. She had had many thanks to her clit. And just a while ago, he had given her a small one by just playing with her back. But what new thing was this?
Ignorant of the concept of a vaginal orgasm, but still loving this new tsunami of pleasure that was approaching, Mansi kept doing what she was doing. Her boobs swung wildly and her hair moved back and forth like curtains during a storm. There was an odd squishy sound as both their thighs were now drenched in sweat despite the air conditioning.
Dutt saw where she was going. He decided to help her along. With the same old thumb that had first uncorked this fine specimen, he rubbed her clit. And that was enough.
Mansi started wailing and shuddering as she was hit by THE biggest orgasm of her life. She did not know where exactly it had come from. She only knew that it was sweeping over her entire being. And she was loving it. And in that moment, she was loving the man who was giving her this great gift as his erect dick rubbed hard against the front of her cunt walls.
Dutt was so mesmerized by this sight of the young gorgeous housewife having her first vaginal orgasm that he almost came himself. It took a great deal of self control to hold himself back. It was crucial to his strategy to keep on going even after the woman had her orgasm. For most women, it was a surprising experience, because their men came well before them on most occasions.
Mansi finally got done wailing and quaking through her orgasm, and then just collapsed on top of her old lover hard, the big paunch softening her fall. Her mind was still in a fog, so it took her a few moments to realize that her cunt was still being fucked. Even though she had stopped moving, Dutt had started pistoning his dick upwards. Mansi then realized that the old man had still not cum himself. And the sex was going to continue.
Dutt let Mansi get her bearings back for a couple of minutes. And then he rolled her over. He kissed her for a few seconds and then straightened, pulling his dick out. He was amused when her thighs almost tried to pull him back in. He spanked her ass gently and said,
“Get on your hands and knees.”
Mansi had to make some effort to raise her body up. She was still shivering a little from the aftershocks of her orgasm. She moved into a position she was more familiar with. Although Amar mostly preferred the simply missionary position, occasionally he liked to take her like this. With quivering limbs as Mansi got in position, she noticed the mirror. the sight she saw came like a wake up call. She saw her disheveled hair, her half open mouth, her glazed eyes, her big tits swinging from her chest, and the burly old man getting aligned behind her.
And she saw herself, a married woman, willingly cheating on her husband. And suddenly she was flooded with guilt and shame. She looked away.
Dutt could read the expressions on her face. He could read the shame, the guilt, the self-awareness, because she was so transparent. For a moment, he felt a surge of tenderness, wanting to talk to her, make her feel alright. But then he saw the big round creamy ass in front of him, and the wet cunt. And his primal instinct won over. he grabbed her hips and penetrated her hard in one go.
Even after the intense fucking she had just experienced, Mansi was a little discomfited by that sudden penetration. She groaned and the momentum made her lower her head. But Dutt wanted to see her face in the mirror as he fucked her. He reached over, grabbed her hair, and pulled her head up. And then he started banging her hard, really hard.
“MMMMmmmm!!” Mansi’s moaned as the big thick dick started pummeling her cunt at a harder pace than what had transpired before. In that moment, she felt sensations similar to what she did with Amar. Because the fucking was in and out. But the old man was stretching the cunt more. Soon he started spanking her ass hard.
“Owww!” she cried out as the spanks got harder.
“Fucking whore!” Dutt said instinctively and then bit his tongue.
He felt Mansi’s body stiffen. He paused for a second. But then continued pounding her hard.
That word ‘whore’ plunged Mansi into a bout of self-examination even as she took the fucking from Dutt Rocky(D)gy style. The sound of their thighs slapping hard filled the room as Mansi looked at herself in the mirror. And started thinking. That’s what she was, wasn’t she? For all that talk of friendship and companionship and potential and everything…when you distilled it down to its very basic…she was a whore. She had been paid handsomely when he first fingered her clit. And she knew he would pay her again. She was basically having sex for money. And by definition, she was a whore.
Dutt felt Mansi’s body language change and her shoulders slump a little. She didn’t fight back. She didn’t push him away. Her body still kept responding every time he increased the tempo or spanked her ass or caressed her back. And her cunt muscles still occasionally grab and release his dick. But she was no longer the willing and enthusiastic participant she was a few minutes ago.
Dutt didn’t care. He had done this enough to know that it was actually a healthy thing. In the initial days, when luring in chaste middle class women like this, it was important to not even hint at this being anything akin to prostitution. It was important to feed their ego. Important to foster their curiosity and sense of self-worth. But eventually, once the act was done, it was a good thing to let them come to terms with reality. And so it was with Mansi. The sooner she accepted what she was, the easier it would be on her in the long term.
Mansi kept wallowing in self pity while simultaneously enjoying the raw sex. A part of her berated herself, while another part marveled at how long and hard Duttsahab was able to keep going despite being so old. She loved how deep his dick went in, how the increased pace made her pleasure multiply. She even enjoyed how he was spanking her ass hard occasionally. And she she felt a second orgasm approaching, she was now more ready for it.
“Oh…it’s happening again.” she cried out.
“Dutt had suspected that. He reached under her stomach and stroked her clit again, now pounding her harder. And she started hollering and her boobs started swinging sideways. And the old man too started cumming inside her. And he groaned.
The two of them shuddered and shook through an intense simultaneous orgasm. And Mansi felt a flood of warm jizz fill up her insides. The intensity of her second orgasm made her arms bucckle and her shoulders and face landed flat on the bed. This made Dutt lean forward and land on her. And she was flat on the bed as the old man pumped the last of his seed inside her.
And the two of them lay there breathless, processing very different emotions, staring at their faces next to each other in the mirror.
Dutt moved first, after his dick shrank to its regular size and slipped out of his latest conquest. He rolled off Mansi, who was glad about it. He weighed almost twice what she did, and his body had put pressure on her ribs. She had been staring in the mirror at their two faces. As Dutt’s face turned, she turned her own. And then she felt tears streaming out of her eyes. Hiding her face in her arms, she started crying.
Dutt saw the finely sculpted naked body of his new whore lying there on her stomach as she sobbed. He could understand why she was crying. Until recently, she had been a conventional middle class housewife, who knew nothing beyond the narrow confines of her stilted life. And now she had just had presumably the best sex of her life with an old man who was not her husband. His instinctive comment had made her realize that she was basically just a whore.
Maybe, Dutt thought, it was time to drive that point home. Until now, he had been play-acting an elaborate ruse, as if she was some special flower that he was smitten by and wanted to nurture. The foreplay and the work it had taken to get her to this point had been challenging and fun. Dutt always relished breaking down defenses of women in a careful and deliberate way. But once this major milestone was crossed, he did not want to keep putting in more work. He wanted the women to dance to his tunes. After all, he paid them well enough.
Ah yes, the payment. Patting her naked ass slowly, he got off the bed. He went to the bathroom first to quickly wash up. When he came out, Mansi was in the same position, but had pulled a blanket on top of herself. He chuckled. As if hiding her nakedness now would change anything. He listened and realized that her sobbing was a lot less intense than before. He walked to the nightstand and pulled out a small pouch. Then with it in hand, he walked to the side of the bed that Mansi was facing towards.
“Hmm…let’s see.” he said.
Mansi heard that and looked up, wiping tears away. He had put his shorts back on. But looking at his mostly naked body still reminded her that this was the hefty old man she had just given herself up to and cheated on her husband with. She watched, with dazed eyes, as he pulled out a thick pink stack from the pouch. And started counting.
“You were great.” he said. “This is for you.”
His big hairy hands reached for her small soft ones and passed as small stack of bank notes in her hand. Mansi’s heart sank as she looked at the stack of thousand rupee notes. Usually the cash transfers were done to the account online. This was the first time Dutt had actually handed her money. It further drove home the point that she was basically just a whore now. Which is exactly what Dutt wanted to do. She felt another bout of tears coming on but fought back. And then she found herself counting the notes. It was fifteen thousand rupees. Much more than usual.
As Dutt watched the young housewife count the money, he knew that the last stage of her transformation to a whore was complete. He started getting dressed.
“I have a meeting to attend in Dahisar. I can drop you home on the way.” he calmly said.
Mansi nodded and with some effort, got off the bed. He watched her carefully put the money in her purse before going to the bathroom.
In the fancy bathroom, Mansi cleaned herself up, and then sitting on the toilet, cried a little more. What had she done? Why had she done that? She could not deny that whatever had happened, had happened with her explicit consent. It’s not like the old man forced himself on her. And whatever had happened had given her a great deal of pleasure. She had multiple orgasms. And in the end, she had made a good amount of money. So why did she feel like such a horrible person. She wallowed in self-pity, crying some more.
“Mansi, everything okay?” Dutt knocked on the door after 20 minutes.
“Yes, I’ll be out in a minute.” she said.
Mansi felt conscious of being completely naked even after all that she had done. So she wrapped a towel around herself before leaving the bathroom. Dutt was fully dressed by then, right down to his tie. He admired the curvaceous figure of the young housewife wrapped in a towel. He smiled as she walked around, the room, collecting her garments.
“I…I need to get dressed.” she said, hinting that he should leave her to it.
“So get dressed.” Dutt shrugged, checking his phone.
Mansi knew that the old man was still looking at her even though he had his phone in his hand. She felt ashamed at him watching, but had no choice as she first slipped on her panties, then put her bra on. Then the blouse, and petticoat. And then finally the sari, which she remembered he had divested her of with such little effort.
While in the lift going down to the lobby, they stood next to each other in silence. A young couple got on halfway down there. Dutt, feeling the male instinct to show off his latest conquest, gently slapped Mansi’s butt over her sari. She blushed and the couple chuckled, realizing that the immaculately dressed old man was either with a mistress or a whore.
In the car, as usual, Mansi was staring out the window when she heard the sounds of a zipper. She looked at Dutt who pulled his half erect dick out of his pants.
“What are you doing?” she asked, shocked.
“Can’t you guess?” he derisively said.
“Relax. I am not going to fuck you here.”
“Oh ok.” she felt relieved.
“I just want a blowjob.”
“Even you can’t be innocent enough to not know what that means.” he said.
“I am sorry but I don’t do that.” Mansi decided to put her foot down. This was too much.
“There’s a lot you didn’t do before that you have already done.” he said, grabbing her arm.
“Please Duttsahab!” she said in a sad voice.
“I will pay you extra if you want. Now open your mouth and come here.” he sternly said.
This was so weird, disgusting, and unhygienic, Mansi thought a few moments later as the old man’s thick dong was in her mouth. He did not undress her. But she was on her knees on the floor of the limo between his legs sucking his dick as he gave her detailed instructions on how to do it. Occasionally he would grab her head and push his dick deep inside. It would hit the back of her throat and make her gag or cough. But he kept going.
“We are almost there, sir.”
Mansi didn’t even realize when the driver had lowered the partition to say this. Surely he had seen her between his boss’s legs. What would he think of her?
“Thanks. We are almost done here.” Dutt said, grabbing Mansi’s hair harder.
The partition closed again. Mansi felt a small sense of relief that at least the driver wasn’t going to keep looking. The next few minutes were tumultuous as Dutt said,
“Don’t pull back. Don’t fight it, Mansi. Remember, I gave you oral. Yes, good girl.”
“You have to swallow it, Mansi. This is a nice car. We don’t want to mess it up.”
“Here, have some coke. It will wash down the taste.”
Getting out of the car, Mansi felt like running home. But there were so many people around, it would look weird. So she calmed herself down and walked slowly. Entered the building and started climbing the stairs. Just as she reached her floor, Deshmukh aunty was sitting on the stairs outside her house sorting dal.
“Back from work already?” she said.
“Hmmm.” Mansi said, keeping her lips pressed together. She had rinsed her mouth with coke but could still smell the ejaculate herself.
Deshmukh aunty crinkled her nose and said,
“What is that smell?”
But by then, Mansi had already entered her apartment and shut the door. The distraught young housewife ran to the bathroom. Turning the shower on, she stood under it with all her clothes still on. She felt the water wash over her, and willed it to wash her sins away. She opened her mouth wide and let the shower water wash her mouth thoroughly. As she started taking her clothes on, she felt something under her blouse. It was the 5000 rupees Duttsahab had given her as extra remuneration for the blowjob. In the hurry to leave the car, she had just tucked it there instead of putting it in her purse. The currency notes were soaked.
She put them on the sink and then stood under the shower again, crying.
As time passed, Mansi got some control over herself. The guilt and shame subsided a little, although they stayed at the back of her mind. She had deposited the money in the bank account, which again started looking healthy. And as she masturbated regularly, she found herself thinking of everything that had happened. Everything that had given her so much pleasure.
A couple of days later, Mansi was home alone doing chores when a courier delivery guy showed up at her door. She was confused, because she hadn’t ordered anything. maybe it was for Amar. He frequently got textbooks this way. But the small package was addressed to her. After signing for it, she curiously opened it. There was a small note with it.
– A small gift. The next time we meet, I would like you to wear this. love, ND
She unfolded the red garment and held it up. Was he insane? A “small” gift it truly was. It was smaller than even Pinky’s dresses. There was no way she could wear this in public. She would look extremely trashy, like an item girl. She was tempted to throw it away. But knowing Dutt’s tastes, it was probably expensive. She would just give it back to him the next time. But she did not want to risk Pinky finding it again. So she rolled it up and put it in her purse. Again, she noted how small and revealing a dress must be to so easily fit in a purse. Maybe he didn’t mean for her to wear it in public, but only in his company.
A full week passed as Mansi kept checking her phone to see if Dutt was summoning her. She felt very conflicted about her feelings. Did she want him to call her again just so she could make more money? Or was she craving more sex? And if it was about sex, what would he expect her to do next? She had felt revolted at the blowjob initially. But by the end of it, she found herself coming to terms with it. She even did some online searches to watch a few porn videos with blowjobs. In them, the women seemed to enjoy it a lot. Maybe she would too, eventually.
On Dutt’s side, the delay in summoning her wasn’t a tactic this time. He truly was busy with a lot of work. He longed to bang his latest conquest again. he was also keen on pushing her boundaries further. The car blowjob had been a whim. But if he planned carefully, he could lead her even more down the path and relish her body fully.
Mansi finally got a text the following week. She was overjoyed, because she was feeling horny. Even Amar hadn’t tried to make love to her in recent days. She had been satisfying herself with her phone masturbation, but having gone all the way with Dutt, she craved the real thing more. With the small dress in her purse, dressed in a simple sari, she went downstairs at the designated time.
Once again, the car was empty. Once again, she was taken to a hotel. But this time, it wasn’t Reena aunty’s hotel. It was a different one and was in Bandra. Even posher. She stared at the decorations as she took the lift up to the room Dutt had texted her.
Mansi knocked on the door. An unfamiliar face opened the door.
“You must be Mansi.” the face smiled.
“Please come in. Navin is on a call.”
This experience was getting all too common for Mansi. She would knock on the door, and someone she didn’t know would open and usher her in. She walked to the living area and sat down in her familiar old single love seat, with her purse in her hands. She saw Dutt on the phone across the room, talking busily. He absent-mindedly waved at her.
“Hot and humid, right?” the man asked as she wiped her sweat.
“Yes.” she said politely, looking at him. He was an old man, roughly the same age as Duttsahab as far as she could tell. But he was short and wiry, with a thick head of hair. And he was dressed in jeans and a plain tshirt.
“Can I get you something to drink? Water, coke, juice,…whiskey?” he asked.
“Water is fine, thank you.” she said.
The old man went to the fridge and fetched her a glass of water. As she drank it, he smiled, and looked at her.
“Navin will be done soon.” he said. “My name is Bhaskar, by the way. You live in Mumbai?”
“Yes.” she said.
“Terrible weather. Although I live in Delhi and our weather isn’t a lot better. At least Mumbai doesn’t have real winter.” he laughed.
“That’s one thing I don’t miss about Meerut. The winter.” she said.
“Oh, you are from Meerut? How nice.”
And the small talk continued that way for a while. Weather, cities, some personal background, and so on, the way it would go for any two people meeting for the first time. Mansi was annoyed that Duttsahab had made her drop everything and rush over, but then he was busy on the phone while some random ugly old man was chatting with her. She was always polite and nice towards elders so she talked with Bhaskar for a while, occasionally glancing at Duttsahab. But as their conversation progressed, she felt a little awkward. Although Bhaskar had started off being very polite and formal, she got the feeling that he was staring at her a little to much.
Finally, Dutt’s call ended. He walked over towards them.
“Hello, Mansi. I see you have met my old friend Bhaskar. He and I have been friends since our childhood.” he said, sitting across from her.
“Yes, he told me.” she nodded.
There was silence for a while. Bhaskar smiled at her and then at Dutt.
“I have to get going soon.” Mansi said, hoping that it would be a hint that maybe Dutt should get rid of his friend so they could get on with what she was there for.
“What’s the hurry?” Dutt calmly said. “Would you like a drink?”
“No, it’s fine.” she said trying to signal to him with a subtle facial gesture what she wanted.
“Why don’t you change into that dress I sent you?” Dutt said, and she almost fell off the couch in shock.
“Now?” she said, now not even trying to hide the fact that she was hinting at Bhaskar’s presence. She was surprised that he expected her to walk around in that short dress in front of his friend.
Dutt started laughing and said,
“Don’t worry about Bhaskar. Like I said, he is an old friend. And besides, he knows about us. So no need to be coy.”
Mansi was first shocked. Then angry. Then she looked at Bhaskar’s smiling face and she felt embarrassed. What was wrong with Duttsahab, she wondered. He was going around telling people about their relationship? She had just spent almost half an hour making small talk with this man as if everything was on the up and up. And all along, he knew that she and Duttsahab had slept together? What the hell?
She was overcome with embarrassment and shame, and rushed out of the living room, her cheeks red. Both men chuckled a little at her awkward state. That made her even more angry. In the bedroom she grabbed her forehead and pondered over the situation. Duttsahab was getting a little too cavalier. Didn’t he realize how weird it would be for her to be introduced like that to someone like Bhaskar? What should she do? She should just leave, she decided.
That’s when Dutt walked in. He saw his mistress/whore fuming on the bed and chuckled a little. She threw him an angry look.
“What’s wrong, my dear?” he asked, sitting next to her.
“What’s wrong? WHAT’S WRONG??” she pretty much lost it and exploded at him. “What’s the matter with you? You’re going around telling people about us? Why? Don’t you know how horribly embarrassing it is for me? You said this would be a discreet relationship. And now this? And you ask what’s wrong?”
She said her piece and started to angrily get up. He grabbed her by her arm and pulled her down.
“Don’t touch me!” she said. “I am leaving.”
“Just listen…” he started speaking but she cut him off.
“Don’t try to talk your way out of this. You have gone too far.” she said.
“SHUT UP!!” he yelled at her louder than he ever had. Louder than anyone ever had. And she shrank back in shock.
He stared at her with flaring eyes and continued.
“Don’t forget your place, Mansi. Who do you think you are?”
“Duttsahab…” she said, shocked. No one had ever screamed at her like this.
“So what if Bhaskar knows? He is my friend. He lives in Delhi. He will never talk about it. Hell, there is no chance he knows anyone else you or your pathetic husband know. So why are you acting as if I have splashed this news on the front page of the Times of India?? Why???”
Mansi had never seen him this agitated. And this assertive. She found herself unable to say anything in response.
He grabbed her by the shoulder and made her turn towards him.
“Tell me, Mansi, why have you come here today?”
“I…” she simply said, not sure how to respond.
“Tell me!” he glared at her.
What was she suppose to say? To sleep with him? To make more money? Even with all the limits she had crossed, she couldn’t say that.
“Because you asked me to come here.” she finally whispered.
“Hmmm, good. You came here because I asked you to come here. And now you will do what I ask you to do. So stop throwing a tantrum, and behave. Put on the dress I bought for you, and come out. Soon!”
“Why are you doing this to me?” she meekly whispered.
“I am not doing anything to you, Mansi. We both know you will benefit from this. Financially and otherwise. So stop being so stupid. And put the fucking dress on.”
He almost spat out the last words and stormed out.
It was a few minutes before Mansi’s heart rate returned to normal. A small part of her wanted to storm out and leave. What could he do if she left? Nothing. But once again, she found that she was almost compelled to obey him. And it wasn’t just the money. There was something more. A lot more. She honestly wanted all this.
Slowly she got up and unwrapped her sari. She stepped out of the thick roll of fabric around her ankles. Then she took off her petticoat and then her blouse. She looked at herself in the mirror, clad in just bra and panties. Sighing, she reached into her purse and took out the dress. If it could fit into her purse, how much of her would it cover? She looked at the slinky red garment. It was stretchable and she was petite, but surely he had gotten the size wrong?
A minute later, she had put the dress on. She looked at herself in the mirror again as if staring at a stranger. The dress fit perfectly. That saleswoman all those months back had gauged her size to the T. As she looked at herself, she wondered what effect she would have on Dutt and even more so, on Bhaskar. The red material was clinging to her tighter than a sock. The outlines of her bra and panties were poking through. Most of her legs were on display below the dress. And above it, several inches of her cleavage. The straps were so thin that her bra straps were visible. She looked like a tart.
Why did Duttsahab want her in front of her friend like this, she wondered? Unless…wait…did he plan to share her with him? How disgusting, she cringed.
Unnerved, she started pacing around the room dressed in the skimpy outfit. Was that Duttsahab’s plan? Is that why Bhaskar was there? To join in? Why would he want that? This was too much. No, she could not even risk that. She should just change back into her sari and walk out. Then a part of her said…two men together. Duttsahab’s childhood friend must be as talented as him. And both of them will be focused on pleasing you. Isn’t that exciting? No no, it’s horrible. I can’t imagine something like that.
Mansi continued pacing and debating with herself for a while longer. Finally, Dutt got impatient.
“Mansi!! Get your ass out here!!” he yelled.
“Navin!” Bhaskar whispered. “Aren’t you going too far?”
“Shhh!” Dutt responded. “Just be assertive.”
Finally Mansi walked out taking small uncertain steps. Both men stared at the gorgeous hottie dressed in that skimpy outfit. She felt them almost undressing her with their eyes. She walked to the couch and sat down. She kept her legs pressed together and sideways, so Bhaskar wouldn’t get to see anything more. And she hoped he would leave soon.
The two old men openly ogled the young woman in the skimpy red mini dress. Dutt was a little put off by how her bra straps were showing. Again, he made a mental note to buy her nicer lingerie, including strapless bras. Bhaskar sat there admiring the young hot item. He had seen the pictures but in reality, she was even more impressive. And he was tickled at how uncomfortable she seemed. Mansi for her part, sat there feeling very nervous, but also feeling a little tantalized.
“So Mansi.” Dutt finally spoke up. “How is your family?”
“They are okay.” Mansi was surprised at how he could make casual small talk in such a tense situation.
“Bhaskar here is also a family man.”
“I am.” the old guy said, still staring at her.
She just nodded, and nervously pulled the hemline of the dress down.
“You look stunning in that dress, by the way.” Dutt said. “Why do you seem so uncomfortable?”
“I am not used to wearing such things.” she said, pulling the top of the dress up a little to hide more of her cleavage.
“Would you like a drink to help you relax?”
“No, I am okay.”
Soon Mansi found herself holding a glass of scotch on the rocks. She took a small sip and cringed.
“It’s bitter.” she said.
“Yes, but it is stronger than champagne.” Dutt casually said. “Now be a good girl and drink that while Bhaskar and I finish discussing our business. So Bhaskar…about the Greater Kailash location…”
And the two men started talking about what to Mansi were strange incomprehensible things. She sat there, gradually sipping the scotch. The more she sipped, the less offensive it tasted. From never drinking in her life until a few months back, she had now worked her way up to scotch. She started feeling a little buzzed and warm as well. The two men droned out about their business, but they still kept admiring Mansi’s attractive body. Bhaskar was getting more and more shameless. Mansi hoped that the discussion would end soon and he would leave.
“Alright, so it is settled then.” she heard Dutt say and then he got up. Bhaskar got up too and shook hands with him.
Finally, thought Mansi, the guy will leave. But she felt disappointed when he sat right back down.
“How is the scotch?” he asked her.
“It’s okay.” she said, and was surprised at how slurred it sounded.
“You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you.” she said.
“How about you get on your knees and suck my cock?” he casually said.
That question almost shocked Mansi sober. What the hell was he saying? She stared at him wide eyed, and then looked at Dutt. Her original lover was looking at his phone as if he hadn’t heard what was just said.
“Didn’t you hear me? Get over here!” Bhaskar said sternly. She was surprised at the tone of his voice.
“Please don’t talk to me like that.” she said indignantly, still staring at Dutt who was still looking at the phone.
“Why are you being so coy, whore?” Bhaskar chuckled. “Navin has tasted you. We have shared everything since childhood. So why not you? And don’t worry, I will pay you too.”
He patted his wallet.
“Mansi.” Dutt finally looked up from his phone and spoke. “Bhaskar just told you to do something.”
“Please don’t make me do this.” she pleaded.
“Stop being such a frumpy old sow, Mansi.”
Dutt said and got up. Approaching her, he thrust his hand up her dress and easily found her clit. As he flicked it, she squirmed. Bhaskar chuckled. She felt embarrassed. And again, she felt unable to defy the old man. Gently, he pushed her off the couch. She was kneeling on the floor.
“Here, between my legs.” Bhaskar said and spread them.
An invisible force seemed to be at work as she found herself crawling towards this man she had just met. Dutt admired how alluring her ass looked under the fabric as she crawled.
“Stop acting like it is the end of the world.” Bhaskar said as the young housewife kneeled in front of him. “Now, unzip my pants and take my cock out.”
She looked at Dutt again, with an uncertain expression. On one hand, she felt really demeaned and violated. On the other hand, here was yet another man and yet another penis. She had until recently experienced only one. Now that she had a glimpse of the possibilities, a part of her was eager to try new things. Dutt just stood behind her and stared back.
At that moment, neither Bhaskar nor Dutt were sure if she would actually go through with it. So both were relieved when she reluctantly but on her own, reached with her hand and fiddled with the old guy’s pants. She was not very experienced at this, Bhaskar could tell. So he helped her. And soon his erect dick sprung out of his pants. She looked at it. It wasn’t as thick and big as Dutt’s. It was roughly the same dimensions as Amar’s penis, she thought. Uncertainly, she wrapped her fingers around its base. And cringed. It felt so weird.
Dutt sensed her hesitation and decided to help her along. He kneeled behind her and put his hands up her dress again. She inhaled sharply as he played with her clit.
“What are you looking at, Mansi?” Bhaskar said. “Open your mouth and suck it.”
She grimaced and opened her mouth, shuddering at what Dutt was doing with his fingers. She was getting randier by the minute. She remembered the blowjob videos she had seen online. She stared at the erect dick in front of her, surrounded by salt and pepper pubic hair. Then closing her eyes, and cringing, she lowered her mouth. The penis first struck her nose, then her chin, until she finally aligned it correctly. Still holding its base, she took the tip of the cock in her mouth. But she kept her mouth open. Yes, she had given Dutt fellatio. But this ugly old man she wasn’t attracted to. Dutt meanwhile was expertly stroking her clit over her panties.
“Close your lips.” Bhaskar said and she obeyed.
Now the tip was in her mouth. Tentatively, she sucked it. It tasted different from Dutt’s cock had. It felt saltier.
“Take your hands off and lock them behind your back.” Bhaskar said. “I want to teach you the proper technique to give a blowjob. Navin said you are not very experienced at it.”
As instructed, Mansi put her hands behind her back and grabbed one wrist with the other hand.
“Now, take it all the way in until my pubes are in your nose.”
Cringing and feeling disgusted but also aroused, she lowered her head. The hard cock was completely in her mouth. Unlike Dutt’s organ, it did not hit the back of her throat, which she was glad of.
“Alright, now suck it.” he said. “And Navin, pull up her dress please.”
Dutt stopped fingering her clit and slowly raised the red dress up, revealing her panties inch by inch. Mansi could not believe how casually her lover was exhibiting her to his friend. And she could not believe that his dick was in her mouth and she was sucking it.
“Take her panties off.” Bhaskar said.
Mansi stiffened for a second as Dutt reached for her waistband. This was yet another boundary being crossed. Her nakedness being displayed wantonly. But she felt oddly thrilled about it. Her body relaxed and Dutt started pulling her panties down. All the while, her head was bobbing up and down on Bhaskar’s crotch, sucking his dick.
“Wow, that is a nice ass!” Bhaskar sighed.
And he smiled as Mansi voluntarily raised her knees one at a time to allow Dutt to take her panties off completely.
Bhaskar leaned back and looked at the young housewife kneeling on the floor with his cock in her mouth. As her head bobbed up and down, her open hair formed a curtain around her face and his crotch. He liked looking at their faces. So with one hand he held the hair together to the side. Every time her head went down, he could get a glimpse at her curvy naked ass cheeks. The tight red dress on her complexion looked very fetching. And she had still obediently kept her hands locked over her waist.
He watched his old friend kneeling behind her and gently fingering her clit. And Bhaskar felt very lucky to have known Navin Dutt. Thanks to him, he had gotten to share many such whores over several decades. Many were as beautiful if not more beautiful than Mansi. But there was something so deliciously forbidden about someone so orthodox and traditional being led down the path like this.
Mansi was starting to feel saliva drip out of her mouth as she kept sucking the old man’s modest cock. The blowjob part she wasn’t really enjoying. Her attention was focused more on what Dut’s fingers were doing. Dutt was again careful not to finger her all the way to an orgasm. He kept teasing it but always pulled short. Soon Mansi’s ass started swaying sideways on its own as she tried to push back against his fingers more.
“You really are a country bumpkin, aren’t you?” Bhaskar said lightly but firmly slapping her cheek. “Who told you to wear this kind of a bra under this dress?”
Mansi’s ears turned red at the insult and she pulled her face away from the old man’s cock. She stared at him with a frown on her face.
“What the fuck are you staring like that for?”
Another slap. This time a bit harder. Bhaskar’s fingers stopped. He knew he had told Bhaskar to be assertive. And he knew one of Bhaskar’s fetishes was slapping women. But slapping her around like this might be a little too much. Thankfully, he hadn’t slapped her too hard, not hard enough to hurt. But the symbolic and demeaning value of a slap was still evident. He was afraid Mansi might explode in anger and walk away.
And Mansi herself was thinking just about that. But Bhaskar read her expression well, and before she could react, pulled her forward by her hair. She felt his hands slip down the back of her dress. His fingers fumbled a little before they found the bra hooks. Soon her bra was loose. Before Mansi could react to what was happening, Bhaskar had pulled down the twin straps of the bra and the dress on her left arm. And then her right arm.
“Pull your arms out of this.” Bhaskar said arrogantly.
Why am I obeying this stranger, Mansi wondered as she unlocked her hands behind her back, and then pulled her arms out of the straps. Yes, he says he will pay me too, but he is an ugly nasty old man who had just slapped her. Even Amar, for all his flaws, had never raised a hand on her. The slaps didn’t hurt, but they still made her feel humiliated. What made her feel confused was that with every slap, she had felt an odd twinge in her loins. Like she actually enjoyed it.
Bhaskar reached down the front of her dress and pulled the bra out. As Mansi felt the twin cups holding her boobs in place get pulled up, she reflexively put her arms across her chest. The bra had been pulled out and thrown on the side. And that motion had made one breast, the left one, spill out of her dress. The right one stayed partially hidden under the dress.
“What are you holding your arms like that for? I can already see your ass and cunt.” Bhaskar chuckled.
Quietly, Mansi lowered her arms. Her face was red with shame and arousal. Dutt had been watching all this unfold, a little surprised and also pleased that the young housewife was playing along. She still did not seem enthusiastic about Bhaskar’s presence. But she had already taken his dick in her mouth, let him manhandle her, and even after that, was kneeling their quietly.
She tried to pull her dress up to cover her exposed tit, but Bhaskar said
“Leave it the way it is. And get back to sucking my dick. Hands behind your back.”
Dutt looked blissfully at his latest conquest. He remembered the woman she had been a few months ago, too shy to even let him hold her arm in public. And that same woman was here, practically naked with that red dress pulled up over her ass, her underwear removed, and one tit hanging out of the dress, sucking the dick of a man she had just met. He noticed that the exposed nipple was hard. From his fingers, he already knew she was wet and aroused. He realized that maybe being treated in this dominant and demeaning way turned her on even more.
He raised his hand and spanked her on her right ass cheek hard. She let out a little yelp but still kept bobbing her head up and down, sucking Bhaskar’s dick.
“I love the way her ass jiggles.” Bhaskar smiled. “Do it again. Yeah, now the other one.”
Dutt rained down spanks on the young woman’s creamy buttocks like she was some errant student. He loved how the complexion of her ass was such that after each spank, his palm print would appear on it in pink. He had been rock hard for a while. He couldn’t wait any more.
Mansi was grimacing and yelping at each blow on her ass, but also enjoying what Dutt was doing. Until a few months ago, her sex life was limited to the shortlived sex, mostly missionary style, with her husband in a dark bedroom. Here she was, acting almost like a porn star, practically naked and sucking one old man’s dick while the other rained blows on her ass. And the part of her that felt guilty or shameful about this was growing smaller with every second.
Finally she heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper behind her. She knew what that meant. Dutt smiled when she instinctively raised her ass up and spread her legs a little. Even Bhaskar noted this and smiled. She was Dutt’s whore first and he deserved the first turn. But Bhaskar could not wait to experience himself what had been described as an incredibly tight cunt.
“Mmmmmmm.” Mansi opened her mouth and let the dick slide out as she felt Dutt line up his nice thick cock and push it into her cunt.
“You like that, huh?” Bhaskar chuckled.
“Hmmmm.” she smiled, resting her face sideways on Bhaskar’s thigh. And then she inhaled and closed her eyes as her lover’s dick invaded her pussy.
She loved that she didn’t need to tell him to go slow. The old man was experienced. Grabbing her waist he entered her gradually, feeling the insides of her cunt clasp his shaft. He was delighted to note that she was in fact pushing her ass back a little, as if her body was saying, no need to be THAT slow. But he kept going slowly anyway.
Mansi’s mind was flooded with a sense of relief and pleasure at the penetration when she felt a slap on her cheek. She opened her eyes and looked up. Bhaskar raised his eyebrows. Reluctantly, she lifted her head and took his dick in her mouth again. Just as she was doing it, Dutt let go of the slow pace and in one motion, rammed the rest of his dick into her. The moment pushed her forward and all of Bhaskar’s dick was in her mouth again. Until his pubes were in her nose, as he had said earlier.
And thus, the previously chaste and demure housewife crossed another level of debauchery. Being fucked at both ends, being spit roasted by two old men over twice her age.
Even with the dick firmly in her mouth, Mansi’s moans and groans were clearly audible. And sounded very erotic as Dutt started banging his whore Rocky(D)gy style in deep strokes. Her hands were still obediently locked behind her back, which meant that Bhaskar’s knees had to give support to her shoulders even as she sucked his dick. The old man noted that every time Dutt pistoned her cunt, the slut’s mouth would suck his dick harder. He looked at the contrast of Dutt’s big hairy belly resting on top of her shapely voluptuous ass. He could feel her exposed left boob rubbing against his shins. Shit, I am going to cum soon, the old man realized.
Mansi was surprised when he suddenly pulled her head away from his dick. Bhaskar did not want to shoot his load so soon. Even with the Viagra he had taken, it would take him some time to get hard again. And he really wanted to fuck this bitch. So instead he bent his head and started kissing Mansi. She was in such a randy state by then, that she kissed back passionately, herself poking her tongue in his mouth. And while she continued being banged hard Rocky(D)gy style, she found herself making out with this strange old man without any compunctions.
“If you two want to kiss like teenagers, maybe Mansi should be on her feet.” Dutt said and withdrawing his cock, patted Mansi’s ample behind.
Without breaking the kiss, Mansi laboriously got on her feet. Bhaskar stayed sitting in the couch. Dutt was right, this was more comfortable. Now Mansi was standing, bent in her waist forward at 90 degrees, kissing the wiry old man as the big burly Dutt bent his knees a little and penetrated her cunt again. The motion made her second breast pop out as well and both jugs were now hanging off her chest, swinging back and forth like two mangoes on a windy day. Bhaskar reached over with his hands and started playing with her nipples, flicking them one at a time.
Dutt increased the tempo of his fucking and Mansi had to put her hands on Bhaskar’s shoulder for support. She started groaning again as this new position gave her new sensations of ecstasy. Dutt sweated with the effort and a few drops landed on Mansi’s naked ass. He admired how trashy she looked. The already skimpy red dress was now serving no real purpose, just rolled up around her stomach. Her body was also covered in a sheen of sweat. Fucking her harder, slowly ran his fingers up and down her back. That gave her goosebumps. And Mansi wondered how talented a lover the old man was, to elevate her pleasure even while having sex.
Bhaskar broke the kiss that had now lasted several minutes. Mansi stared at him with glazed eyes, her groans louder, now that her mouth wasn’t covered by his.
“Navin, can I have a turn?” he asked, breathless. Playing with those tits had made him want her bad and want her now.
“Sure.” Dutt shrugged and withdrew his dick.
No one asked Mansi if she was okay getting fucked by this other man. But even if they had asked her, she was in such a randy state that she would not have refused. Bhaskar leaned back and grabbing his dick, shook it a little. It was still hard. But that impending orgasm had subsided. Mansi stood straight, arching her back a little. being bent over all this time had made it a little tender. She looked down at her exposed tits, below them, her rolled up dress, and then below that, her naked pussy and legs. It felt like she was looking at someone else’s body.
“Turn around, and sit on my lap.” Bhaskar said.
Mansi wasn’t really well-versed with different positions, so she did not know how this would work. But obeying him, she gently placed her ass on his crotch. The dick rubbed against her inner thighs.
“What are we, sitting in a bus? Sit properly, slut. Put it in.” Bhaskar slapped her face.
Dutt knew what an amateur she still was in the ways of sex. He watched, smiling as Mansi squirmed around uncomfortably, parting her legs and then reaching down with one hand. It took her a few moments to align the dick properly with her cunt, and then she finally sat down on it such that it penetrated her.
After being banged by Dutt’s thick sizeable cock, you would have expected her to take Bhaskar’s modest organ easily. But she had an unusually tight cunt, so even this penetration, she grimaced a little during.
“You were right Navin. This whore is tight!” he spanked her ass which was just an inch above his thighs. “Well, what are you waiting for?”
Mansi was yet again put in an unfamiliar position, literally and figuratively. But the harsh was in which he said it indicated that she was supposed to be doing all the work. Remembering the way she had done it when on top of Dutt the other day, she started sliding her ass back and forth. And was instantly amazed that even this guy’s cock, in that motion and position, was giving her pleasures. She leaned back a little. Bhaskar reached around and grabbed her boobs.
“That’s more like it.” he said, biting her shoulder hard.
“Owww!!” she cried out.
“Easy with the biting, Bhaskar.” Dutt said moving closer. “We don’t want to leave any telltale marks for her husband to discover.”
“Oh right right.” Bhaskar said as Mansi started moving a little faster. “The poor sap doesn’t even know his wife is whoring herself out like this, huh?”
Mansi felt insulted but also turned on. She started rotating her hips in a circular motion.
“Oh that is good.” Bhaskar said throatily. And laid back and enjoyed one of the best fucks of his life.
Mansi’s eyes had been closed as she fucked this stranger and was actually starting to feel her orgasm approaching. Dutt realized it too, so to help things along, he bent down started stroking her clit. And a few seconds of that, combined with an accelerated bucking motion, pretty much did it.
“Wow, she is a screamer.” Bhaskar said grabbing her waist as she started hollering. That was too much for him. He started cumming as well, shooting his seed into the young tight shuddering cunt.
About halfway through her hollering, Mansi felt like she heard a strange noise. Like a knocking. But she thought she was imagining it. Maybe it was her brain knocking against her skull. But as she felt that ultimate release and her senses started registering reality again, she saw Dutt pulling up his pants and walking away. her cunt was sticky with Bhaskar’s semen. But she was thinking about the noise. And this time she heard it clearly. It was knocking indeed. Someone was outside the room. And they must have definitely heard her shriek like that.
“Yes?” Dutt said, reaching the door.
“Your food, sir.” a voice said.
“Oh right.” Dutt said, and with his hand on the door looked at his two companions.
Mansi felt Bhaskar roughly pushing her off his lap. She staggered a little but retained her balance.
“Make yourself decent, whore, unless you want to flash the waiter.” Bhaskar said, pulling his pants up quickly.
Mansi had just a couple of seconds to roll down her dress to cover her thighs and then pull up the front and slip her arms through the straps. It was a race against time, but she just about made it, standing there breathing heavily as Dutt opened the door.
The waiter walked in, feeling a little uncomfortable. Just as he knocked, he had heard that wail of a woman having an orgasm. Either that or being killed. And when he walked in pushing the food cart, his suspicions were confirmed. He saw a young woman in a sweat stained skimpy dress, her hair a mess, and her chest heaving as she stood there staring at the floor.
“Ummm…should I just leave it here, sir? I can come back later for your signature.” the guy asked, wondering if they wanted privacy. Dutt was about to say, yes, come back later.
But Bhaskar was a pervert who was loving how uncomfortable this was making Mansi. So he spoke up.
“No, please put it on the table and serve us.”
Mansi thought she would die of embarrassment. What must that waiter be thinking? That she was some whore who had just been fucked by these two men? Well…it was true, wasn’t it?
The waiter behaved very professionally, taking care not to stare at Mansi. But he remembered her. He had met her briefly in the lobby when she asked him where the lifts were. Then she had been wearing a simple sari. Now she was dressed like a whore. Dutt was mildly amused at how Bhaskar had engineered the situation. he took his time signing the slip.
“Thank you sir.” the waiter said after he got a generous tip and left.
Mansi was still rooted to the same spot. It was embarrassing. But she had also just had an orgasm, which felt great.
“Come, let’s eat.” Bhaskar stood up and tapped her on her ass.
“I’m not hungry.” she said in a sullen voice.
“Shut up and eat. You will need your strength for the post lunch session.”
The two men walked to the dining table and sat down. Reluctantly, Mansi went and joined them. And the 3 of them started having lunch quietly.
The more Mansi ate, the more she realized how hungry she was. She ate like a starved person, having twice the number of rotis as usual. Throughout lunch, Bhaskar kept staring at her and fondling her. Dutt kept his hands to himself though. Halfway through lunch, Bhaskar demanded that Mansi roll down the top of her dress and eat with her boobs exposed. She complied at once. That made Dutt feel something he often did. Boredom. Once a wife was bedded and broken, there was no sport left in it any more. He would still enjoy fucking her, of course. But he knew that soon, he had to move on to his next conquest.
Soon they all finished eating. And Mansi found out that Bhaskar was right about her needing strength for the post lunch session. As soon as she got out of the bathroom after washing her hands, she was dragged to the bedroom. This time, her dress was slipped off completely and her fully naked body was thrown on the bed. Dutt was a little disappointed that she had left her mangalsutra home this time.
Dutt got the first go at her cunt again. She was laid down sideways with her legs together and folded up as Dutt banged her cunt from behind. Bhaskar laid down near her head and made her suck his cock. After ten minutes in this position, Dutt made her ride him again, while Bhaskar sat next to them playing with her tits. She was handed over to Bhaskar for another round next. He just fucked her missionary style, slapping her occasionally, while Dutt attended to some business calls. Bhaskar wanted to cu in her mouth this time, and she had to swallow. Then Dutt returned and the burly brute fucked her standing up and her arms and legs were wrapped around his body, suspended mid-air.
It continued this way for a couple of hours. Both men were on Viagra, so there was no limit to how often they could get it up, going alternately. She was banged in every conceivable position by the two men, and had more orgasms than she could count. She was also slapped around by Bhaskar and spanked by both of them more times than she could count, although they were careful not to leave an marks. Her cunt started feeling sore and her thighs were hurting. But above all, she was feeling satisfied.
Finally the two men grew tired as well. Mansi’s cum splattered and sweat drenched body was curled up on the bed as the two men sat outside drinking scotch. After twenty minutes of taking rest, Mansi got up and looked at the clock. It was time for her to get going if she had to be home before Pinky returned from school. But she could not go back smelling like this. She took a long shower in the bathroom. But this time, there were no tears.
The two men looked up when she came out of the bedroom, dressed in the same sari she had worn when she arrived. Fully showered and cleaned up, she looked a far cry from the naked slut they had just ravaged. But she was walking a little funny, as was to be expected after the prolonged fuck session.
“I need to get home. Pinky will be home soon.” she said, avoiding eye contact with either of them. Bhaskar did reach over and gently fondle her round ass over the sari though.
Dutt nodded and said,
“I will have the money transferred to your account.”
“Oh right, money reminds me.” Bhaskar said. “Do I give you the full amount and you give Reena her cut or do I pay her separately?”
Dutt gently slapped his head. He knew that Reena planned to come clean to her about the whole thing soon, but at a time of her choosing. His big mouthed old friend had mesed things up. Mansi just stared at Bhaskar with her mouth open.
“Well?” he said, grabbing her boob playfully.
“Duttsahab.” Mansi said in a tense voice. “What is he saying?”
“Mansi…it’s okay.” Dutt said.
“What happened?” Bhaskar was confused.
“What does he mean Reena aunty’s cut?” Mansi said, now almost shouting.
“Come on, Mansi. Do you really need it spelled out?” Dutt asked.
“Yes.” she said angrily, although reality had dawned on her.
“Fine. Reena is like…a facilitator…an agent…” he said.
“A pimp.” Bhaskar chuckled. “She really had no idea?”
“Shut up, Bhaskar.” Dutt said. “But yes, that’s basically the fact. She is like a talent spotter, but for…well…prostitutes. High end prostitutes though. Her specialty is finding educated college students or housewives or struggling actresses or…”
“Enough.” Mansi raised her hand. “So all this time…I was just a whore to you?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say it quite that bluntly.” Dutt said, sipping his scotch. “But yes, from day one, it was my intention to get you into bed.”
“All that stuff about art and how I had so much potential and wanting to be more than a friend and all that other nonsense…”
“I meant it all, Mansi.” Dutt said and got up.
He tried to hug her but she pushed him away.
“And how much does Reena aun…madam charge for luring young women for you?”
“There is no fixed rate as such. It depends on the particular…talent. And the work involved from her end. Some women are easily willing to do this for some extra cash. Some even approach her for it. My tastes are a little different. It requires a lot more planning and work from her end. For you, I gave her a flat initial fee of fifty thousand. And then after that, 25% of whatever you get.”
“I don’t believe this. I feel so…betrayed…and used.”
“It was your choice though. Yes, she hid the true nature of her interest in you. But be honest Mansi. You have enjoyed the ride thoroughly. The last couple of hours in that room…that wasn’t just a woman objectively using her body to make money. That was…that was you.”
She stare at him. He had a bit of a point. Although the thing had started and then after a short break continued with money in mind, she could not deny the way her heart skipped a beat every time he touched her. And she could not deny how orgasms with him were the most memorable ones, like they meant something more. Which made this all the more difficult to swallow.
The clock on the wall bonged.
“I really need to get going.” Mansi said.
Dutt tried to kiss her. But she pushed past him and walked away.
Mansi walked out of the room and got in a lift. Her thighs hurt and her pussy was sore. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling. Her brain was a stew of conflicting emotions. On the physical and carnal level, she could not deny that she was very thoroughly satisfied. Her first ever threesome had been even better than her first time with Dutt. Bhaskar wasn’t as skilled as his friend, but boy could he keep going on and on. She also found herself liking his brusque arrogant manner. By the end, she was starting to positively enjoy his slaps.
But that final revelation had soured her mood. How could she have been so naive as to think that some random woman she didn’t know too well even in Meerut would be genuinely concerned about her well-being? How did she not see that it had been an elaborate scheme all along? Reena had betrayed her trust, and that hurt more than anything.
Then there was the growing self-realization that she had been deluding herself about what she really was. All along, she had fooled herself into believing that what she and Duttsahab had between them was something special. A forbidden kind of relationship, but real and passionate. She had often asked herself if she was falling in love with the man, and if he too was falling in love with her. In idle moments, she would daydream about being with him full time. Leave Amar, take Pinky with her, and spend the rest of her life with the charming suave lover who satisfied her in a way Amar never could.
But that day’s events had shown her that she wasn’t something special to him. How easily he had shared her with another man. And never spoken up to stop Bhaskar from doing whatever he wanted. She wasn’t a mistress or lover that Dutt showered gifts on. She had been, all along, a whore to him. And now that she had willingly let another guy fuck her with him, she was just a whore. Full stop.
The lift stopped on one of the middle floors. The door opened and she immediately looked away. It was the waiter from before, pushing another cart. He smiled politely at her, trying not to laugh. Look at her, he thought silently. Looking so innocent and decent in this sari. And yet he remembered how she looked in that slinky dress up in the room. Sweaty and just-fucked. Dress stained with who knows what. And he remembered how sticky her legs looked. Must have been the old men’s semen. He wondered how much she charged. Not that he could ever afford her, but it might be a good way to make some extra money.
“Excuse me, ma’am.” he said.
Mansi kept looking away and pretended not to have heard him. It was embarrassing enough being in his company after how he had seen her. She did not want to talk to him.
“Ma’am…if you have a number or something, let me know. Lots of rich businessmen stay here, and they are always asking for good company. I could…ma’am ma’am?”
The lift stopped at another floor and Mansi just ran out and took the stairs. This was further confirmation that she was just another whore now. Yes, a well paid one. But a whore nonetheless.
Amar came home that day with his friends, but found his wife in bed. She said she wasn’t feeling well. She had come home, showered again, and then after Pinky got home, given her some food and sent her downstairs to play without doing her homework. And she just lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, letting her aching limbs rest. Her phone rang. It was Reena. She didn’t answer. She assumed Dutt had told her everything by now. Reena tried calling her a few more times before giving up.
The exhaustion and tension was very clear on Mansi’s face. So Amar didn’t try to goad her into cooking anyway. He close the door of the bedroom and told his friends they should all go out somewhere else. She heard them all leave.
Amar got back late, and seemed tired himself. Mansi was glad when he didn’t initiate sex. Despite being so tired, she slept fitfully that night. Events of earlier in the day kept appearing in her dreams and waking her up. Finally in the middle of the night, Mansi found herself in the bathroom, sitting on the stool and fingering her clit.
The next day she logged into the bank account from her phone. It was richer by 40,000 rupees. Just as she was looking at the balance, the phone rang. It was Reena aunty again. She pressed ignore. A while later, Dutt called. She pressed ignore.
“She ignored your call too?” Reena said angrily, sitting in the limo.
“Who does the slut think she is? I am going to send her an SMS. And then we will see.”
Reena started typing. Dutt looked over her shoulder. It read
– Stop being so high and mighty and answer the phone. If not, I will go to your husband’s college and in front of his students I will
“Don’t.” Dutt grabbed her phone and deleted the message. “Just let her be for a while.”
“Duttsahab, her behavior is unacceptable. It’s not like anyone held a gun to her head. And it’s not like she has returned any of the money.”
“I know, Reena.”
“And you yourself said she enjoyed the sex.”
“Then what the fuck is her problem? Useless little small town bitch, no qualification, no skills, always whining about her life. I showed her a new world. And helped her make money than she could ever dream of. And now…”
“I know. But just give her a few days. I know how her mind works. She needs to cool off and process her emotions. If you try to push her too hard right now, she might break. Give it a week or two.” he said.
Reena sat in the car fuming. Dutt let her calm down and after a couple of minutes, said,
“It’s not like you have no other sources of revenue. You were saying you had a new one for me?”
“Oh right. This Mansi nonsense made me forget.”
She took the phone back from Dutt’s hand and pulled up a picture.
“Gayatri. Age 36. A lawyer in Pune. Met her at a corporate event in the hotel. She’s well educated and highly qualified, not like that small town bitch. But stuck in an unsatisfying job. Says she has hit the glass ceiling at her law firm. And her husband recently got laid off. They have a big mortgage payment that eats up most of the salary. I don’t think it will be too difficult to reel her in. Seems like the flirtatious type already from what I saw.”
Dutt looked at the picture.
“Not bad. I guess I could visit my Pune offices soon. And might come up with the need for a lawyer.”
“Great.” Reena said. “Umm…what about Mansi?”
“I told you, give her a few days.”
“Yes, that is fine. But do you…I mean will you…”
Dutt shook his head.
“She’s a sweet little thing, but I am done with her. No more challenge in it.”
“So once I bring her in line…”
“Yes, you may take her to others. In fact, here’s a lead for you. Talk to Reddy from FineMedia. He was really ogling her at an event when she was with me.”
“Reddy from FineMedia.” she noted down on her phone.
Three nights later, Amar woke up to a strange sensation in the middle of the night. A hand was at his waist. Drowsily he opened his eyes. He was shocked to see his wife, completely naked, hunched over his crotch. Instinctively he looked to the right.
“I put her in the living room obviously.” Mansi said, in a husky and almost hungry tone of voice he had never heard her use.
“What are you doing?” he said as she untied the pyjama and fished his dick out.
“Shhhh.” she said.
And then Amar laid back and sighed happily as his orthodox wife started sucking his dick. He had seen it in porn. He had read about it. He had fantasized about it too. But Mansi had always been so old fashioned. All these years of marriage and he couldn’t even bring himself to ask her about it. And here she was in the middle of the night, doing it herself. It was like a dream come true.
Mansi sucked the cock hungrily and it was soon fully erect. It felt strange to her that her husband’s was the third cock she was sucked. How unfamiliar it looked from close quarters. How strange it tasted. Very different from Duttsahab and Bhaskar. She gently touched his pee hole with the tip of her tongue like Bhaskar had taught her. Amar visibly shuddered. Not wanting him to cum too soon, she immediately got on top of him.
Although feelings of betrayal and guilt had ebbed as the days had gone by, the one feeling Mansi could not shake off was horniness. She masturbated every hour, but her body craved something more. It craved actual penetration. It craved a man. By that night, her desires had reached boiling point. She woke up in the middle of the night from another sex dream. Then she had slowly picked Pinky up and taken her to the living room. And quickly stripping naked, joined her husband on the bed.
Amar got his second shock of the night. His usually shy wife was being really adventurous. With the grace and agility of a nymph, she got on top of him, and holding his shaft erect, lowered herself onto it. They had never had sex in this position before. And yet she was moving with so much…expertise.
“Mansiiiii!!” he moaned in confused delight as she started moving back and forth. He reached up and grabbed her boobs.
And was surprised again when she bent down and started kissing him passionately.
Amar didn’t last long. How could he? As it is, he came pretty quickly. The pleasant erotic surprise of his wife attacking him like that, seeing her big tits heave and sway, all that was too much for him.
Even after he ejaculated inside her, she kept moving her hips. Kept moving them until his dick fully shrank back to normal. She felt disappointed. Dutt and Bhaskar had both made her cum before they came themselves. With Amar, she was just getting into the groove of things before it ended. But it was still better than nothing. She stayed like that on top of her husband.
He gently pushed her off. But didn’t go to the bathroom to clean up like always. He pulled his naked wife into an embrace.
“Where did you learn that?”
“Just…read it online.” she blushed.
“What else did you learn?”
Mansi smiled, and turning her husband over on his stomach, started licking his back.
Dutt had advised Reena to wait a week or two. She waited ten days. And called Mansi. This time the young housewife answered.
“Look who found their phone.” Reena sarcastically said.
“Sorry aunty, I didn’t feel like talking.” Mansi said in a flat voice.
“So what changed? Let me guess. More expenses at home, more demands from the daughter, more meals at fancy restaurants.”
Mansi didn’t say anything. Reena aunty was partly right. It wasn’t like she really needed the money. But she wanted the money. She had called up Dutt a couple of times, but he had politely brushed her off saying he was busy and traveling.
“Have you calmed down by now? Ready to meet and talk?”
“About what? About how you make money by pros..”
“Hey! Hey!” Reena interrupted. “Not on the phone. Come and meet me at the hotel in an hour.”
An hour later Mansi was sitting in the lobby of the hotel where it had all started. The receptionist had told her that Reena ma’am was in a meeting, and she would call for her when she got out. Mansi picked up a newspaper and browsed it absent-mindedly.
“Is that you, Miss Meerut?” she heard a man’s voice say.
She looked up. It was a young man in a suit. He looked slightly familiar.
“Don’t you remember? A few months ago, we were talking in this very hotel.” he said, sitting on a couch across from her.
“Oh…were we?” Mansi started remembering a little.
“Absolutely. Who will forget a face like yours?”
That’s when a second young man walked up to them staring at his phone. She vaguely remembered him too. he saw her and smiled. Then he turned to his friend.
“So dude, the lunch meeting got postponed.”
“Hmm. Remember Miss Meerut?” he pointed towards Mansi.
“Who will forget a face like hers?” the other guy chuckled and sat down next to his friend.
There was an awkward silence as Mansi started remembering the awkward conversation they previously had. It was right after a white woman had complimented her sari. She remembered getting a creepy vibe from the guys then. And she was feeling the same way as they checked her out in a barely hidden manner.
“So…here to meet a “friend” again?” he put air quotes around the word friend.
“Yes.” she said and hid her face behind the newspaper hoping they would take a hint.
“We can be your friends too, you know.” he said and giggled.
“Please leave me alone.” she said.
“Come on, sweetheart. We are just asking.”
“And what exactly are you asking?” Mansi lowered the newspaper and scowled at him.
“Just asking…if we wanted to be your friends…we would be really good friends. Really good. We are investment bankers. We live in London. We make good money.”
“He is asking how much you charge.” the other friend getting impatient said in a casual way that only investment bankers can say stupid stuff in.
What the hell…Mansi thought. Had she now started giving off a whore vibe? Getting randomly propositioned like this? But then she remembered that he had made a similar suggestion even all those months ago. She had not realized it back then, but now she did.
She just threw them a dirty look and got up.
“Name your price, darling. You are worth the annual bonus and more.” he said as she walked away.
That’s when the receptionist beckoned her over and told her Reena was ready for her in her office. As she walked towards the office, she saw that the two arrogant guys were still laughing and looking at her. But then she thought about what she wanted to say to Reena and forgot about them.
“Before you say anything.” Reena herself had prepared a small speech. “I am sorry I kept you in the dark. I am sorry if you feel violated or manipulated or used. But like I said before, you had a good time on the way. And you made good money too. If I had told you what I was…recruiting you for, you would have stormed out. So I decided to let things play out slowly. And they played out well. So if you want to throw a fit and yell at me, go ahead. But remember that in this arrangement, everyone has benefited. And your daughter’s college fun looks a lot healthier.”
“I still feel betrayed.” Mansi frowned.
“And I am sorry for that.” Reena nodded. “But you are here, so obviously, you are not retiring from the game.”
Mansi didn’t say anything for a few moments. Then she spoke.
“When is Duttsahab coming back? I called him a few times but…”
“He brushed you off? Yes. I know. Forget Duttsahab. He has moved on to another woman.”
“So to him I really was just a…”
“A whore? Yes. If you want to keep using that demeaning word. I prefer escort or companion. Remember Mansi, it’s not like you are turning tricks on the bylanes of Kamathipura. You provided company to a rich gentleman. You had mutually enjoyable sex with him. You made a good amount of money.”
The young woman nodded.
“And you will continue doing that if you cooperate with me. Duttsahab is gone. There are hundreds of other Duttsahabs.”
“But will he…”
“Will he want you again? He might. Who knows. But until then, we have to think of the future. And fattening up that bank account even more. And living the good life.”
“So…here we go.”
Reena turned her laptop and showed Mansi the screen. There was the picture of an old gentleman with a mustache and glasses shaking hands with Bill Clinton.
“Hahaha no, not Bill Clinton. Although the next time he is in town, I could show him your picture. I am talking about the other guy. Mr. Reddy who is a bigshot in the media.”
“Oh…” she looked at the face.
“If it looks familiar, it’s because you have met him with Duttsahab at some event. He remembers you very well. Was quite taken by you. So in two days, in this very hotel. He has an hour free. He will pay five thousand. My standard commission is 20%, so that leaves you with four…what?”
“Just five thousand???” Mansi felt almost insulted. That’s how much Duttsahab paid her for just going to an event.
“Not everyone is as generous as Duttsahab. Besides, you have to remember that you are starting off as a rookie. I know the ridiculous amounts you got paid, but that is an exception. Once you build up a reputation and a wider client base, sure, you can charge ten twenty even fifty thousand.”
“Sorry, but that sounds too low.” Mansi’s middle class haggling side came out. “To sleep with a stranger and then I take home only five…”
“You take home four thousand. My commission is 20%.”
“You make one thousand for what?” Mansi said sarcastically. “Just making a phone call?”
“Mansi!!” Reena raised her voice. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to. I earn my commission. With me, you will get to meet the best…”
“I am sorry, but that amount is too low.” Mansi shrugged. “Ask for ten thousand.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are? And what do you think this is, haggling over a kilo of onion? I have been in this business for decades. Don’t let Duttsahab’s splurging make you think you are some hot shot. There are actresses and models who are okay starting off at that rate.”
“Then I don’t need you.” Mansi said and got up.
“Mansi…MANSI!!” she shouted but the young woman started walking out.
Reena was about to follow her when her phone started ringing. It was an important client so she had no choice but to answer it.
Five thousand…what nonsense. Mansi was sure that the actual payment was a lot more. And Reena was just taking a heftier cut. What did she do anyway? Just sat on her fat as and made contact with businessmen. Mansi could do that herself. Hell, even a waiter could do it. She remembered how that waiter had offered to set her up. Surely he wouldn’t charge 20%. In fact she herself had just been propositioned. Without any agent or middlemen. After all, she was someone who had just been paid 20,000 rupees each. How dare Reena try to undersell her?
Mansi thought about this angrily as she walked out of the lobby. She looked around for a cab and was about to hail it when,
About twenty feet away, were the two arrogant young men from before. They were standing there smoking cigarettes. She looked at them. They were lean well dressed guys. Not handsome but not bad looking either. Besides, they were young. She took a few steps towards them.
“Hello.” she said.
“Already done with your…friend?” the other guy snickered.
“That was fast! Trust me, we will last longer.” and he started laughing hard. His buddy gave him a high five.
Mansi waved the cigarette smoke away from her face. And then thought about it. They had said they were rich bankers of some sort from London.
“Offer still stands, by the way.”
“What offer?” Mansi looked into his eyes and asked.
“To be your friend.”
“For how much?” Mansi couldn’t believe she just said that. Instantly she blushed.
The two guys stopped laughing and their faces got serious. So far they had been just having fun.
“Are you…are you serious?” he asked.
“Were you serious?” she asked him back.
The two guys nervously looked around to make sure no one else was listening.
“What is your standard rate?” he asked almost in a whisper.
Mansi remembered how bargaining was done at the places she usually shopped at.
“Fifty thousand rupees.” she confidently said.
“For one or for both of us?” the other guy asked.
“Both of us together?”
“That will be extra.” Mansi realized she had a knack for this. “One lakh twenty five thousand.”
“Shit!” the first guy stamped out his cigarette. “One moment.”
The two guys came really close to each other and started whispering. Mansi stood there, feeling strangely confident. See, she didn’t need Reena. If she had to sell her body for the sake of her future, then she could do it herself.
“How about…ten thousand?” the taller of the two confidently said.
“What do you think this is? Haggling over a kilo of onion?” Mansi used the same line Reena had. “The lowest I can go is…one lakh together. Forty thousand each if separate.”
“Is there…someone else we can discuss this with? Your…manager?” he said looking around.
“No, I am on my own.”
They whispered some more. She even heard them chuckling. For a moment she felt self doubt. But then they turned around and said.
“Okay. One lakh. Done.” he extended his hand.
“Deal.” she offered her hand. He pressed it gently and chuckled.
The three of them walked back inside the hotel. Mansi hoped she would run into Reena aunty again, so she could rub her recent success in her face.
When they got out of the lift and opened the door to the room, Mansi noted how much smaller it was than the suites she had been in. It was still nice, but definitely smaller. Suddenly her view was blocked by the taller of the two guys.
“What’s your name?” he asked, pulling her pallu down.
“Mansi.” she said. “Yours?”
“Jay.” he said, fondling her boobs.
She felt other other guy behind her grab her ass.
“And I am Veeru!”
The two of them, with Mansi sandwiched in between, started disrobing her as they pushed her towards the bed.
Mansi was too excited and horny to realize that they had given her fake names. The strong stink of cigarettes from their mouths was very off-putting for Mansi. So she tried to concentrate on the positives. At least she was having another threesome. After that afternoon with Bhaskar and Duttsahab, try as she might, did not achieve the same kinds of orgasms. What she wasn’t prepared for was how clumsy and inexperience the guys were.
Their hands kept bumping into each other. There was no skill or finesse in the way they were feeling her up. The kisses they attempted were slobbery and skill-less. Once her sari, petticoat and blouse had been all but ripped off from her body, the guy calling himself Jay roughly shoved his hand between her legs and rubbed his pussy. No attempt to find her clit or to pleasure her. Just eager and inexperienced roughness. Veeru was struggling with her bra clasp. It took him almost a minute to get it off.
This really didn’t feel as good as Mansi had hoped. Without an ceremony, her panties were pulled down. And she was thrown on the bed.
“Fuck man, she’s hot!!” Jay said, taking off his suit jacket and unzipping his pants.
“Why do you get to go first?” Veeru asked.
“Because I talked to her first.” He said, pulling down his underpants in a hurry.
His dick was average sized. Nothing to write home about. Mansi was on the bed, her legs spread as she played with her clit. She wasn’t as wet as she would have preferred to be. She was used to the long foreplay from Dutt. This seemed more like what Amar did. Except there were two of them.
“Then she can suck my dick. After all, we are paying her extra for the two of us together.”
“Cool.” Jay said getting on the bed and grabbing Mansi’s knees. “But don’t you have to…make that call first? Remember?”
“Oh right, the call.”
Mansi looked at the dick dangling between her legs as Veeru went off to the side to pick up his phone. Jay held her legs and spat on her pussy. Some of it landed on her fingers as she was playing with her clit. He looked towards his friend who gave him a small nod.
“So then Miss Meerut.” Jay said in a sneering voice. “Want to get fucked?”
“Say it. Say you want to get fucked.”
“I want to get… fucked.” she said, hoping he would get on with it.
“You want to get fucked by both of us?”
The dick penetrated her cunt and the young man’s chest was on top of hers. She had been waiting for it and let out a moan of delight. Although the guy didn’t have technique like Dutt did, he did have stamina. He grabbed her hair and pounded her cunt hard as there were slapping noises filling the room.
“Nice, dude.” she heard the other guy say. Her eyes were closed. When a thought popped into her head. Wasn’t he supposed to be making a phone call?
She started turning her head to look at Veeru. But Jay kept his grip on her hair tight and held her face in place. Then he started kissing her roughly. This wasn’t as enjoyable as with the older men. She felt the other guy getting on top of the bed and move next to her head.
“Hiiiiii Mansi.” she heard him say in a playful voice. “Ready to suck my dick?”
“Yes.” she said. Jay’s grip had loosened as he was lost in the pleasures of fucking this incredibly hot young woman. The way her tight cunt grabbed his dick was heavenly.
Mansi moved her head to see two naked legs next to her. She looked higher, and a decently sized dick was dangling there. And then she saw something that made her throat go dry.
“You’re filming this?” she shouted.
“Fuck yeah, we’re filming this. For a lakh rupees, you should be giving us the DVD yourself.”
The two started laughing in that arrogant way again.
Mansi started protesting, but by then the guy, still holding his phone in record mode, had shoved his dick in her mouth. She knew she would have to do it, but again, it initially felt weird. She gagged a little. But at that moment, the bigger concern for her was the filming. She tried to reach up with her hands and flailed for the phone. But it wasn’t in her reach.
Veeru handed the phone to Jay who straightened and took a shot of her jiggling boobs before taking a close-up shot of her face with the dick in it. And then down to show his dick ramming her pussy.
“Fuck, I am about to cum!” Jay said. “Bitch is unbelievably tight for a whore.”
He took a close-up of their entwined genitals. And the screen showed some semen oozing out around the shaft. Even Amar lasts longer than this, thought Mansi.
Before she knew what was happening, the dick left her mouth and was between her legs. Veeru did not care about the creampie his friend had left in there. He just rammed his cock in and let out a triumphant cry.
“You’re right dude! This is one tight cunt!”
“Please don’t film this.” Mansi managed to say again.
“Shut up, whore!!” the guy spat on her face.
Mansi cursed herself for not laying down some ground rules. The news was full of MMS scandals all the time. How could she have been so stupid to not ensure that? She had done so much stuff with Dutt and Bhaskar. Neither of them had even attempted to take pictures. She just tried to put that problem out of her head and focused on the relatively bigger dick hammering her cunt. But again, there was no real pleasure in it.
Ten minutes later, Mansi was sprawled on the bed with a cunt full of cum, but no satisfaction. By now she had gotten used to the phone recording her. She just hoped the men were trustworthy enough to not post it on the internet. After all, they were in it too.
“Hey whore!” Jay said, cackling. “Get the fuck up. We both have meetings to get to.”
Mansi pulled herself up off the bed. She went to the bathroom, and by the time she came out, they were both dressed and putting their ties back on. She went around the room gather her clothes and putting them on. Once again, Veeru fished out his phone and filmed the whole thing.
“What are you looking at, whore?” Jay asked as she stood around expectantly.
“Umm…the money. Do you have cash or do you want to send it via internet?”
They both started laughing and exchanging high fives.
“Via internet? That’s precious. A whore who takes paypal.” Veeru said.
He reached for his wallet. He fished out a thousand rupee note. Jay did the same. They held it up for her.
“Is this a joke?” she angrily asked.
“The joke, you slut, is that you think you can charge people one lakh rupees for sex. Who do you think you are? Sherlyn Chopra?”
“We had a deal!!” she shouted.
“Don’t shout. And don’t be stupid. Why should we pay you even a paisa? be thankful that we are giving you at least this much.”
“Unless you pay me, I will call the cops.” Mansi said hotly.
“And say what? I am a hardworking whore who did not get the agreed upon price?” Veeru said. “And before you make anymore threats, remember what’s on my phone.”
Mansi’s heart sank. She felt defeated. From feeling so proud just a while ago for negotiating such a great price to this. And the sex hadn’t even been good.
“Do you want this two thousand or not?”
Reluctantly, she took the money and put it in her purse.
“Now get the fuck out.” Jay opened the door and pushed her out.
“Jay and Veeru?” Reena chuckled as Mansi sat in front of her, face in her hands.
She was doing her best not to cry.
“Haven’t you seen Sholay?”
“I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“And really, one lakh rupees?”
“They said they were bankers from London.”
“By now you should know that men will say anything to get a woman in bed.”
Mansi nodded and looked up.
“Now do you see the value of the service I provide? Why my commission is worth it?”
She nodded again.
“I vet all clients. No one is going to force themselves on you. No one is going to stiff you on your payment. And most importantly, you stupid little bumpkin, no one is going to record you on film!!” Reena yelled the last part. “Jesus, I mean it’s not even like we are in 1999 when no one knew that there are cameras all around. This is 2016. Everyone has camera phones.”
Mansi finally started crying. Bawling, more like it.
“Do you at least remember the room number?”
Mansi nodded, and between sobs, said,
Reena picked up the phone.
“Hi Carol…who is staying in 434? Who? Okay, I see. And they are from…okay. Alright. When they come back, let me know.”
Mansi had stopped crying by now and looked up.
“Your so called London bankers are insurance salesmen from Delhi. Here for a conference. They conned you and you got conned.”
“I am so sorry, Reena aunty.” Mansi said.
“Hmmm…anyway, it must be time for your daughter to return from school. Go home. I will take care of this. I will get the recording back. And I will make them fork up a more… reasonable amount. Not one lakh. But reasonable.”
“You leave that to me.” Reena said. “All it takes is a couple of phone calls.”
“Thank you so much, Reena aunty.”
Mansi got up to leave.
“Two days later. Mr. Reddy.”
“He has a couple of specific requests though. First, you need to be completely shaved down there. Second, you are to be completely naked when he comes into the hotel room.”
“Okay aunty.” Mansi blushed. Completely shaved? She had never done that before.
But then she had never done a lot of things before. Was she doing the right thing? Should she still get out of this mess? What if Amar found out. And that’s when she again remembered that painting Drowning Girl.
Big fan of your stories, can I have your email address