The next morning, Shobha had her periods.
She was relieved because the forced abstinence would also give her body the time needed to fully recover from the soreness of her last sexual jamboree.
She also knew her libido would rise in the subsequent days, and she hoped the two men in the house would be in the same boat. She smiled to herself as the pun in that phrase struck her and she thought her situation wasn’t very different from the visual that the phrase connoted. Two adult men – horny and virile – on the same boat as her – a nubile, sex-hungry and uninhibited woman was a good description of the state in that household during the lockdown, she mused.
Bhola continued to look at her in the kitchen every day with a look that alternated between a puppy looking at a master and a Rocky(D) looking at a bone. That look alternated depending whether he thought Shobha was watching him or not.
Shobha had no trouble maintaining an imperious attitude with Bhola while supervising his household chores. After all, that attitude came naturally to her. Bhola made clumsy efforts to seek confirmation whether happy days – or happy nights – were going to visit him again, and Shobha drew silent pleasure in ignoring these hints and keeping him guessing. It then occurred to her that her stonewalling might lead him to ventilate his sexual frustration through masturbation. The delicious thought that she might be the subject of his fantasy was outweighed by the desire to ensure he kept his sexual energy bottled up only to be released at her pleasure.
Finally, sometime mid-week, she decided to end his suspense. She caressed his cheek with a long fingernail and whispered to him, “Weekend ko dawat ke liye tayyar rehna“, (Be ready for the feast this weekend) and then added in a softer tone, “Aur bhook bacha ke rakhna” (Save your hunger).
Message delivered, she walked out of the kitchen swinging her ass intentionally without giving him a chance to respond. She looked back briefly and saw his face light up like a slow tubelight. Like a kid getting a promise that ice cream would be served for dinner, she thought, giggling to herself. She had been tempted to caress his crotch while walking off – something she used to do with Chetan in the early days of their marriage – but felt it was too much intimacy and too soon for a kitchen setting.
On Thursday morning, she gifted Bhola a razor set, shaving gel and aftershave cologne from Chetan’s collection. “Thik se shave karna shuru karo …. aur ek dum poora, samjhe ….. poora“, her eyes gesturing that by “poora” she meant his entire body. (Shave properly. And … all over).
Chetan was an easier kettle to handle, distracted as he was with his bank work. His work during the lockdown was increasingly revolving around long video and phone calls with his clients and the bank, and he would often shut himself up in his study and don his noise cancellation headset for long video calls. After a couple of unwelcome interruptions from Shobha checking on him for lunch, he came up with the simple idea of giving her access to his office calendar and marking out his lunch. Shobha now simply had to check her smartphone to know when Chetan would be immersed in his calls, and when he would be distraction-free. She didn’t mind that the former took up much of his time during the week cooped up in the study room.
As Friday approached, Shobha felt the thrill of anticipation. When Chetan told her that his last call for the week would end at 6PM (and her smartphone confirmed the same), she began drawing up plans for Friday evening. It didn’t take long for Bhola to sense that Friday evening held the promise of something delicious.
In the afternoon, Shobha announced to him, “Aaj Friday hai. Dawat ke liye tayyar rehna. Dawat saheb he saath hoga“. Bhola again felt that the excitement that the Gods were smiling at him, but the repeated reference to saheb joining him for dawat worried him. The optimistic part of him hoped the evening would repeat the same script as last week.
The main course might be in the bedroom, but the dessert – Jharkhand style – would be enjoyed in his own room and in a private audience with the memsaheb, he hoped.
As Friday evening drew closer, all three members of the household felt a growing degree of excitement and anxiety that each tried to conceal from the other.
Bhola simply looked forward to another romp with his bhabhi. He had shaved himself completely early in the evening and rid himself of body hair everywhere. Having lost his virginity the previous week, he felt he was now qualified to aspire for a graduation. To do so, he was ready to work hard; most certainly he was very hard for most of the week. His prayer to the gods of Jharkhand was to not let Chetan rain on his parade.
Shobha felt she had all the ingredients with her to write a cookbook for weekend sex – a sex-hungry virile male drooling over her and ready to bend at her command, an indulgent husband who had finally consented to consent, a luxurious house with multiple rooms for her to play out her fantasies and an absolute promise of privacy for the key cast thanks to the lockdown. However, while she had the ingredients, her anxiety came from realizing she didn’t quite know the recipe to put it all together.
Chetan felt like the theatre-going audience who knows how the play is going to end, but is more curious about the start and the middle. He was uncertain whether the ticket he was holding was for just watching the play, or whether he was expected to jump on to the stage and join the rest of the cast.
Shobha invited Bhola to join the couple for dinner at the table. Actually, Bhola looked quite dashing. He was wearing one of Chetan’s old hand-me-down shirts that Shobha had surreptitiously passed on to him. A year back, driven more by ambition and neglecting the reflection in the mirror in the changing room, Chetan had bought an expensive black silk slim-fit shirt. Realization dawned later that he was neither slim not fit, and the never-used black shirt found its way to the bottom of a pile. It now flattered Bhola’s broad and flat chest, even as its previous owner pretended to not recognize his former possession and instead dug his spoon deeper into another round of kheer.
Shobha put her long legs to good advantage during the dinner. She alternated between teasing both men, playing footsie. She twisted and stretched her bare foot under the table, and scratched with her toenail the shin of both men – alternately, of course. The men responded, by turns, rubbing her leg back, not knowing that she was serving both of them as sincerely under the table as she was serving them food on the table. Shobha then raised the game – and her foot – higher and probed the crotch of both men by turns. Chetan noticed that by the time dinner ended, Bhola was in much better cheer – little did he know that his wife had a hand, or more appropriately a foot in it.
The threesome then shifted to the wide common balcony that adjoined the living room and the master bedroom and settled down for drinks. Night had settled over the Bangalore skies and it was uncharacteristically warm for an April evening in the city. Chetan setup his portable battery operated Bose blutooth speaker and played some old hindi songs. After about ten minutes of chit chat about Bhola and his family, and his plans, Shobha got up suddenly and announced, “Its hot here. Mein Bunty ko check karke and aur change karke aati hoon”
She disappeared into the bedroom through the sliding door, with two pairs of male eyes lazily following her sexy swinging ass until she drew back the curtains to the bedroom behind her. Both men became aware of each others subject of attention at the same time and felt mildly ambarassed as they caught each others eye.
Bhola felt embarassed but it was not just because saheb had caught him checking out his wife’s ass. That ass brought back fond memories of the previous weekend. He remembered bhabhi on her knees, on his bed, alone with him in his room, naked and him holding her by her hair, yanking back her head while his cock was buried and pumping into bhabhi’s pussy. The sight of Shobha’s swinging and retreating ass brought back vivid memories of that episode and he was scared that saheb would read his wicked thoughts.
Chetan felt embarassed that he had joined his servant in checking out his wife’s ass, but he also felt that strange kinship that men experience when they have a common object of lust. Never mind that the common object of lust was his own wife. It reminded about how way back in school the back bencher boys in his class shared gleeful looks at each other after checking out the shapely back of the English teacher. The pretty young teacher, writing on the board was unaware that the boys at the back bench were backslapping the winner who had correctly bet on the color of the bra she would be wearing that day.
Chetan recovered faster. He was lazily lounging on the cushioned armchair, his feet up against the balcony railing, cigarette in one hand and scotch in the other.
“Apni bhabi pe badi nazar rakhte ho, kyon Bhola”. (You keep a good eye on your madam, dont you?). Chetan had grown up in Delhi where throwing in a snide remark was a fine art.
Bhola saw the the pitch was not conducive for strokeplay and played with a straight bat, “Bhabhi bhi bahut achi hain, aur hamara bahut acha kyhayal rakhti hain. Hamare kaam pe unki nazar rehti hai” (Bhabhi is a very nice person. She takes good care of me. She keeps an eye on my work)
I bet she takes good care of you, thought Chetan drawing in a deep puff and releasing it lazily. And yes, she does have an eye on you, my friend!
“Toh abhi bhabhi ko ghoor nahin rahe the?”, he asked in an easy drawl making sure his tone was friendly and not accusative. (So you weren’t staring at your bhabhi just now?)
Bhola realized this this was an easy delivery, and took his chances, “Saheb, mein kahan ghoor raha tha! Mein to dekh raha tha ki bhabhi kahin andhere mein phisal na jaaye.”, (Saheb, I wasnt staring. I wanted to make sure she doesnt trip in the dark room) and ended with a flourish at the last moment, “Ghoor toh aap rahe the, saheb!”” (You were the one staring at her, saheb!)
Chetan guffawed loudly, and raised a high five which Bhola joined with a smile.
The ice had been broken between the two men. They went back to being back bench school boys staring at the sexy english school teacher’s low cut blouse and back, and commenting on the colour of her bra.
Having thus seen the tendency for the batsman to drawn the batsman out of the crease, Chetan flighted the next delivery. “Waise tumhari bhabhi kaafi hot hai na?!” (Isnt your bhahbi quite hot?!). It more more a comment rather than a taunt.
Bhola felt emboldened. He leaned forward closer to Chetan and whispered conspiratorially, “Ek baat bolein aap se, saheb. Bhabhi ki body bahut must hai. Aap bade lucky hain!”.
Chetan could have stumped the batsman and sent him back to the pavilion. But he had no desire to end the innings so quickly. It was more fun to let this batsman continue stroke play at the crease and figure out his technique. He smiled, clinked glasses with Bhola and did a bottoms up. Bhola refilled both glasses dutifully
Bhola then took a large sip. He wasnt used to the high quality stuff and his throat burnt and he felt momentarily woozy. That brought courage and he felt compelled to raise the quality of the conversation.
“Vaise maan na padega saheb, bhabhi must toh hai. Ek dum kadak maal” (I have to say bhabhi is hot! Super hot!), and then realized he had a good chance of clearing the ropes, “Us din aapne bhabhi ko accha choda saheb, ek dum must. Dekh ke bada maza aaya” (That day, you fucked her read hard, saheb. Had a ball watching it!)
Chetan watched him carefully. He blew a puff, and offered his cigarette to Bhola and said, “Toh aaj phir wahi program ho jaaye?!” (Shall we have the same program again tonight?)
Bhola readily grabbed the cigarette offered by saheb. Sharing a ciragatte seemed like a nice invitation to bond. Shared your cigarette today and perhaps you may share your biwi too, he thought. Of course, saheb didnt know that the biwi had already been shared. But Bhola was hungry for more.
Bhola drew a deep puff on Chetan’s ciragette and passed it back, “Shubha kaam mein deyri kyon, saheb!” and then went on to ask for more, “Lekin ek shikayat hai aapse saheb” (But I have a complaint saheb)
Chetan knew the fellow was pushing the envelope but he didnt mind. This was getting him excited too.
“Bolo Bhola, kya shikayat hai?” (Tell me, Bhola, what complaint do you have?)
“Saheb, hum bhooke khade hain. Kabhi kuch hamare liye bhi chod dijiye. Dua denge aapko!” (Saheb, I stay hungry. Sometime do leave something for me. You will have my gratitutude!)
“Sabr rakho Bhola. Sabr ka fal meetha hota hai!” (Be patient, Bhola. Patience will give you sweet fruits!)
The two men laughed uproariously, and clinked glasses again.
Still laughing and his belly jiggling, Chetan laid back on his armchair and drew a large sip and closed his eyes, “Sewa karoge toh mewa milega!” (Work hard, and you will get the reward), and laughed again loudly at his own wit. He was still laughing when he realized he was laughing alone and no longer had Bhola’s attention.
He opened his eyes, and noticed that Bhola was staring to his right at their bedroom french window sliding door. Chetan followed his gaze.
When Shobha walked back into the bedroom leaving the two men alone, she had closed the glass door and pulled the curtain. behind her. Like many apartments, the sliding doors from the bedroom to the balcony had two curtains – a thick night curtain and a thin linen day curtain. The thick curtains were open, and the thin curtains had been drawn up. When the bedroom was dark inside, it didn’t make a difference and the thin curtain blocked out everything from outside.
After putting their son to sleep, Shobha had dashed into the bathroom for a quick shower. The shower done, she had now come out into the bedroom, clad in a single white towel wrapped around her body and another small towel around her head. Finding the bedroom dark, she had switched on the yellow bedroom lamp next to the bed bathing the entire bedroom in golden yellow light.
The thin linen day curtain immediately transformed into a transparent sheet giving the two men a peek at what was happening inside the bedroom.
It seemed Shobha didnt know the thin curtain didnt offer privacy. Or didnt care.
Shobha dropped her body towel and began drying herself. Her shapely breasts, her plump curvaceous ass, flat stomach and long legs could be seen in silhouette from outside by the men lounging in the balcony. The drying done, Shobha had tossed her towel aside and walked, stark naked but for a towel wrapped around her wet hair, to the wardrobe on the other side of the room. Standing in front of the mirror, she pulled off the towel around her hair. She bent her head forward and the wet hair sprawled all over her front. She then gently used the towel to rub her hair observing herself in the mirror. The action of shaking her head to rub her wet hair into the towel caused her ample breasts to jiggle hinting at their fullness. Dropping the hair towel, she then admired herself in the mirror and took her time. She then put her arms on her waist, thrust her breasts forward and twisted on her heels to check her profile in the mirror. For the appreciative male audience in the balcony, her breasts once again came into sharp silhouette with her naked body illuminated by the golden lamp. Her breasts were large, well proportioned and without a sag. Sitting in the balcony, the two men watched open mouthed at the erotic spectacle in front of them, The thin curtain acted like a veil blocking out the finer details but letting just the right amount of erotic imagery coming through.
Shobha then turned around and checked her back and ass in the mirror. She then patted her ass cheeks, and seemed satisfied at the firmness. Unknown to the two men, she was also relieved that the marks from last week’s brutal sex session had all disappeared.
Then she opened the wardrobe and picked a bra and panty to wear. She seemed to be taking time to make her choices and sifted through a few options in her wardrobe. The two men continued to watch as she slipped into her panty. She then put on her bra, hooked it up, and then turned the clasps to the back. She adjusted the cups of the bra unhurriedly and seemed to take care that cups covered her precious globes correctly. She then selected a pink silk kimono-styled nightgown that reached up to her thighs, pulled it over and buttoned the front. The nightgown had a sash which she tied tightly around her waist accentuating her hourglass figure. She went back to admiring herself in the mirror, seemed satisfied and walked towards the balcony french doors.
The entire spectacle lasted perhaps five minutes but the two men – her husband and her servant – watched it without blinking an eye.
The curtain parted, the balcony door opened and a glowing and freshly scrubbed Shobha walked out from the bedroom to the balcony.
Her arms raised and pushing apart the sliding doors, her legs crossed one infront of the other, head tossed back – she struck a pose like a diva making an entrance onto a stage. With the golden light from the bedroom illuminating her from the back, outlining her wet hair and hourglass figure and with her naked legs thigh downwards, glowing in the reflected light, she looked like a goddess emerging from an apparition.
Having made an impactful entry, she walked across to where the two men were seated staring at her.
“Hi Guys”, she said cheerfully, “Missing me?!”
Hands on her hips, breasts thrust out, she turned facing Chetan and then pivoted to Bhola exhibiting herself.
“Bolo boys, Mein kaise lag rahi hoon?” (Tell me, boys! How do I look?!)
Looking at Bhola, she twisted a little bit and pouted, and then turned again showing her profile making sure he had a good look at her.
Bhola gulped speechless, and then placed his hands, still carrying his drink between his legs in an instinctive action to hide his hard on. Shobha didnt fail to notice.
Chetan was the first to recover. He took a deep breath and said, “Ek dum hot!”, and then added cheekily, “Abhi koi keh raha that ki tum ek dum maal ho! Must maal!” (Too hot! As Someone was saying just now, you are quite a piece.)
Shobha didnt take offence, didnt care and choose to take the crude phrase as flattery.
“Bhabhi, aap ekdum top model lag rahi ho!” (Bhabhi, you look like a top model), Bhola chimed in trying to make the right impression.
“Really!”, she said, her smile brightening several degrees. She then flung her arms around Bhola and sat down in his lap. She then turned to Chetan and said playfully, “You know aaj se Bhola mera boyfriend hai. Kyon, Bhola, mera boyfriend banoge?” (From today Bhola is my boyfriend. Why, Bhola, will you be my boyfriend?!)
Poor Bhola felt he had a heart attack and died and gone to heaven. He gurgled in happiness not knowing of any appropriate response.
Chetan smiled drily and raised his glass in a mock toast, “Acchi jodi hai!” (You make for a great couple!).
Shobha flung her arms playfully around Bhola’s neck, hugged him and snuggled close to his cheeks. She mussed his gelled hair and kissed him on his cheeks. The cologne on him smelt great and she inhaled deeply. He took advantage by snuggling his face against her breasts. Her freshly showered hair was still wet, and had the intoxicating fresh smell of her shampoo. The silk of her kimono-like nightgown, against his chest and the warmth of her naked thighs felt unlike anything he had felt since last week. Shobha was however perched on Bhola’s lap in an awkward position and she adjusted herself to get a little comfortable. She immediately felt Bhola’s hardness. She deliberately grinded her ass against his hardon, and he had a sudden intake of breath as his cock hurt from the weight of her pelvis.
I am between a cock and a hard place, she thought smiling to herself at the pun in her situation.
She pulled her head back to look at Bhola’s face. He actually looked quite handsome in a very earthy way. His thick hair shone from the gel – perhaps a tad too much. He was clean shaven and she could now notice that he had a hard set jaw with high cheekbones. His neck and shoulder lines were clean, and very masculine. If only he were more polished, she thought, but his rustic demenour had a quality that she found attractive in an animalistic manner. And his lips. He had thick lips. Very sexy, she thought. Very kissable.
And then she kissed Bhola on the mouth.
She had, of course, kissed Bhola earlier too when she had him entirely to herself. She had also kissed him in front of her husband last week when they had a mock pillow fight but that was more of a peck.
This kiss was different.
She forced her tongue inside Bhola’s mouth. His mouth opened readily welcoming her tongue and met it with his own. She chewed on his lower lip, biting him gently and stopping only when he squirmed. Her arms squeezed together around his neck. He pulled her closer. She felt his palm trying to snake its way around her. She knew where it was headed, but it was trapped in an awkward lock around her shoulder. She eased back slightly to allow him space, then covered his hand with hers and guided it to his target – to her left breast.
Greedily, he squeezed hard on her breast through the silk kimono and her bra while he continued to suck on her mouth. She shifted the angle of her head to try a different angle to the kiss. He learnt the technique quickly and shifted to sucking her lower lip. His left hand was cupping her large breast and his fingers now searched for her nipple. He found it quickly and joyfully discovered it was erect even through the kimono and the bra. He pinched it and she squirmed. She shifted the angle of her head, but he didn’t let go of her lips. Shobha opened her eyes but found Bhola had his eyes still closed in passion. She twisted her position slightly to check on her husband, and in the process grinding her ass once again against Bhola’s hardon. She continued kissing Bhola, one arm around his shoulder, the second now guiding his free hand that was now squeezing her breast harshly.
From the corner of one eye, she found her husband looking calmly at her making out with her new lover. Her eyes locked into her husband’s gaze, and he acknowledged her with a gentle nod. She was relieved that he wasn’t upset. As if to reassure her, she saw him flash a thumbs up sign discreetly with one free hand while he held his half-filled glass with the other. Even in the throes of passion, kissing her lover, and having her breast squeezed by an unfamiliar hand, she felt a surge of love and gratitude to her dear husband.
She abruptly broke away from a reluctant Bhola, pushed him back to disentangle from him and much to his surprise and disappointment, rushed towards her husband seated at the armchair at the other end. The last two steps of the dash to her husband’s chair were almost a sprint and she flung herself breathlessly at him.
Chetan was calm, didn’t seem surprised and braced himself at the last second before she jumped onto him. Bhola watched blankly from the other end.
An armchair isnt a comfortable option to seat two people, especially if one of them has a somewhat generous paunch like Chetan. The best Shobha could do was to straddle Chetan on his knees with her legs on either side of Chetan’s thighs. This caused Shobha’s nighgown to ride higher and even in the dim light of the balcony, Bhola seated at the other end could see her black panty snug against her ass.
Shobha brushed her lips with the back of her hand to wipe out Bhola’s saliva, and began kissing Chetan all over his face – initially with tiny kisses on his forehead, eyes, nose, cheeks and then with growing passion on his mouth.
“My Baby, My Jaanu, My darling”, she kept murmuring softly again and again. Chetan greeted the impetuousness of her passion with the calmness and patience of a husband who knows his wife’s mind only too well.
“Fuck me, Janu! Fuck me! Now”, she whispered softly in his ear.
Chetan may have been a bit obese but at nearly six feet tall, he was a strong man. He hugged Shobha tightly against him, and got up from his armchair. She put her arms around him just like she did with Bhola a while back, but how she also wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. Chetan supported her weight, his arms holding her by her buttocks unmindful of her exposed panty and headed for the bedroom.
“Chalo, bedroom mein chalte hain abhi!”, he announced to Bhola indicating to the latter that he should follow him. Bhola grateful that the invite included him, jumped from his armchair, raced ahead of his master and helpfully opened the sliding door to the balcony for the amorously intertwined couple to pass through.
Chetan carried Shobha past the sliding doors into the bedroom, her legs still tightly wrapped around his waist, her arms around his neck, and head reclining on his shoulder. As Bhola followed them inside, shutting the sliding door behind him and drawing the curtain, he caught Shobha’s eye as she looked up from Chetan’s shoulder.
And Shobha winked at Bhola.
Chetan carried Shobha inside their bedroom, with Bhola following obediently and dropped her on their bed. She rolled over to the centre of her bed, pulled herself into a half-sitting half-reclining position, resting her weight on her hands behind her back, breasts thrust forward and knees curled up with her heels against her thighs. That posture caused her kimono nightgown to ride up on her thighs exposing her black panties against creamy thighs. The bright yellow lights in the bedroom gave her thighs a golden sheen that contrasted with the sheer black stretch material of the panties.
Shobha smiled at Chetan first and then at Bhola, aware that her panties were exposed to both men. She made a weak attempt to cover up and pulled at the hem of the kimono to cover her panties. But with her knees pulled up to her chin, the thigh long kimono fell short on length and her effort fell short on sincerity.
“So, boys? Kya plan hai abhi?”, (Boys, whats the plan?) she asked boldly looking at both men alternately. Chetan was close to the foot of the bed, and looking at Shobha with a half-smile. Bhola stood a few feet behind, his back to the wall, uncertain and glancing alternately at Shobha and Chetan waiting for Chetan to make the first move.
There was a brief silence in the room with Shobha too now looking at Chetan to make the first move.
Chetan reached out and grasped Shobha by her ankles. He then pulled her roughly towards him and to the edge of the bed in a sudden, strong move. Taken by surprise by the sudden action, Shobha fell on her back. The kimono rode even higher on her torso, and now her navel and panties were fully exposed.
Chetan took off his t shirt in a single swoop and carelessly threw it across the bed. His torso was podgy but his bare chest was hairy and puffed up. Keeping eye contact with Shobha, his face expressionless, he again caught her by her ankles in a tight grip and raised her legs up at ninety degree to her back now flat on the bed. He kissed Shobha on both soles alternately. The ticklish sensation caused Shobha to curl her toes, and she winced and closed her eyes. Chetan then started sucking and kissing her toes, one by one, gently, confidently and taking his time. Shobha watched him fondly. It had been a long time since Chetan had been this relaxed in his foreplay.
Shobha too began to relax and stretched her arms into a Y position on the bed. She looked at Bhola who was watching wide eyed while supporting himself on the wall and trying to get comfortable with the unfolding erotic scene being playing out in front of him by the lead actors. Bhola felt like a bit actor waiting at the sidelines and he hoped would get called out soon to play his part.
Chetan continued his licking, and now began sliding a wet tongue gently down her ankles towards her inner thighs, taking his time on the journey and making sure both legs received equal attention alternately. Shobha squirmed, her legs in the air and still in ninety degrees but now supported against Chetan’s shoulders and the kimono staying bunched up high against her mid-stomach and above her belly button.
Chetan gradually let his head sink lower between Shobha’s thighs. Shobha continued to be on her back on the bed, but had her legs on each of Chetan’s shoulder. As Chetan’s head slid lower towards its inevitable target, Shobha bent her legs below the knee to get them comfortable and secured them rin a lock around Chetan’s head. As Chetan sank lower – taking his sweet time about it and much to Shobha’s impatience – Shobha also instinctively spread her thighs wider.
Bhola drunk in the sight with wide open eyes. Here was his beautiful mistress, only partly clothed, her still wet hair sprawled over the bed, her arms spread away from her body, the lower part of her silk kimono parted on either side on her flat stomach, exposing her delicious belly button, her thighs splayed out now in an obscene but wildly erotic pose, her black stretch panties snug against her pussy, her husband holding her now just below her knees and pushing her thighs further apart and licking her upper thighs and moving slowly – centimetre by centimetre – towards the panty clad pussy.
Bhola was now beginning to sport an uncomfortable hard-on and shifted his hands from behind to folding them in front of his crotch. This caught Shobha’s eye and with her eyes she gestured to him to come and side by the side of the bed. Bhola hesitated, and then taking confidence with the recollection that he had the same ringside seat for a similar act last week, and noting Chetan’s preoccupation with licking his wife’s inner thighs, obliged. The bed felt soft and sank gently under Bhola’s weight as he sat gingerly next to his supine mistress’s shoulder.
Chetan’s tongue was flicking in and out like that of a snake, tasting and teasing Shobha’s inner thighs. Shobha began squirming and rotating her waist with growing impatience. Her fingers sank into the bedsheet looking for something to grasp and brace her body for the inevitable assault on her pussy as Chetan’s tongue drew closer much like an enemy battering ram inching towards an enemy door. In anticipation of the assault, a damp spot started spreading on Shobha’s panty.
The first contact of Chetan’s wet tongue on the pussy was right at the centre of the damp spot on her panty and just below the clitoris. Bhola saw Shobha grimace and shut her eyes. Her face contorted, her body shuddered and her fingers dug deeper into the bed mattress. Chetan continued his licking, taking care to keep it irregular and also using his nose to gently massage the pussy through the panty, and also gently inhaling the intoxicating feminine odour. He raised his head a bit to take in the sight of Shobha’s contorted face. Her eyes were now tightly shut, and she was gently thrashing her head from one side to the other as the throes of passion began to build up.
Just when her passion seemed to have reached a certain threshold, Chetan abruptly paused action. Raising his head, he moved up and kissed Shobha hard on her mouth. Shobha opened her eyes with surprise at the kiss but disappointment at the interruption to a climax, but reciprocated the kiss before protesting.
“Janu, don’t stop doing that …..not fair!” she said throatily coming up for air in-between the kiss.
Chetan didn’t reply and began squeezing her firm breasts through the silk kimono and her bra. Shobha began moaning gently. Chetan was tempted to open the sash around her waist and part the kimono to expose her breasts but that would be too much too soon. He now had a script to how he wanted this to play out.
Chetan went back to kissing, licking and teasing her on her panty clad pussy. Shobha, still impatient, tried to pull down her panty to allow him freer access but he slapped her wrist away. His tongue added to the wetness on her panty, now licking a wide damp arc from the point to where he judged her clitoris was and right down to where he thought her anus lay. Just when he reached a certain tempo, he broke off and began kissing her on the mouth and kneading her breasts.
“Unnhhhhhhh…….!”, Shobha moaned at the slow torture of the sexual tease and growing frustration of not being able to climax.
Finally, she could take it no longer and moaned, “Jaanu, make me come ….please!?”
Chetan broke off the licking, smiled at her and said, “Jaanu, sabr karo. Sabr ka phal meetho hota hai!” (Darling, be patient. Patience has a sweet fruit!), and then turned to Bhola and asked the young lad, “Kyon Bhola, Sahi bole na hum? Sabr ka phal meetha hota hai?”. (Bhola, do you agree that patience has a sweet reward?)
Bhola’s eyes and attention were glued to Shobha’s panties, and he was a bit taken aback at being suddenly included in the conversation. He desperately wanted to stay on in the good books of Chetan, who he sensed held the key to the casting couch for this evening. Bhola would have readily agreed to anything Chetan would have said.
“Ji saheb, bilkul sahi kaha aapne” (yes, saheb, you are absolutely right!), he said obsequiously.
And then Chetan asked him, “To tum try karoge?” (Do you want to try?)
Bhola was suddenly confused at what he was expected to try, and Chetan gestured with his eyes that he was offering Bhola to take his place between Bhabhi’s thighs.
Bhola jumped in haste, nearly falling off the bed.
“Itni jaldi nahin Bhola, aaram se. Bahut aaram se. Abhi toh raat jawan hai. Aur haa dost, pehle apna shirt utar ke aao!” (Not so fast, Bhola! Take your time. The night is still young. But first, take off your shirt!)
Bhola readily obliged, nearly tearing off his shirt buttons in the process. As he pulled off his shirt, his broad and fit shoulders came into view. Shobha looked at him appreciatively and hoping the entry of new cast to the stage would bring the plot – not to mention herself – to a climax that she now realized Chetan was deliberately withholding from her.
Bhola placed his palms down on the bed just below Shobha’s buttocks and took a second to soak in the landscape. His face was inches away from Bhabhi’s pussy, and the unmistakable aroma of her sex and the deep damp patch on Shobha’s panty and the dripping saliva on her inner thighs marked the message that “Saheb was here”. Not that he minded second helpings. Bhola dove right in with his tongue lapping fast and furious. Chetan had settled into the spot on the bed vacated by Bhola. Watching Bhola’s industrious effort in contrast to his lazy measured strokes, Chetan was reminded of a Rocky(D) furiously licking spilt milk on the floor before it got soaked away.
Every Rocky(D) has its day, and its yours today, my friend, he thought sardonically to himself.
Shobha winced at the sudden change in licking tempo. Chetan stepped in like a coach to a young athlete trying a bit too hard, “Bhola, dost, thoda aaram se… pitch pe tikke rehna. Yeh batting lambi chalegi!”, (Bhola, my friend, slow down … stay on the pitch. We need you to bat for long!”)
Bhola slowed down obediently. Shobha looked at Chetan gratefully not just for the coaching tip to her young lover industriously serving her cunnilingus but also because the bonhomie between the two male cast indicated delicious possibilities ahead. Without disturbing Bhola who continued to labour on, she raised her chin to her husband who kissed her again and squeezed her breasts. Shobha reached out to untie her sash and was gently held back. She tried to pull down her panty but Chetan thwarted that too.
When he felt from Shobha’s facial contortions that she was approaching the “zone”, Chetan asked Bhola to stop. The hard working young lad was a tad slow to heed the advisory, and found his head yanked back by Chetan. At being abruptly forced to disengage from intimate contact with his mistress’s pussy – the closest he had come to it in the last one week – the lad looked up surprised and frustrated, and checked to his how his bhabhi was doing. In fact, she was gulping air deeply, and also distressed at the interruption.
For a brief moment, our young warrior was tempted to mutiny and switch sides, but the breathless state of his queen told his foggy mind that she was in no mind to assume command. So the moment for rebellion came and went and our young lad from Jharkhand resigned to continued servility and pledged obedience to Chetan to also show him the path to his sexual salvation. The path, of course, lay between bhabhi’s thighs.
In short, he stopped licking Shobha’s panty-clad pussy at Chetan’s command.
This continued for a couple of rounds more, and Chetan expertly and accurately called on pulling the plug just when his beautiful wife neared a climax and kept thwarting her every single time she neared her orgasm. Finally after 15 minutes of torture, Shobha could take it no more. She pushed aside Bhola – the latter was now beginning to accurately resemble a bunny rabbit toy that would start and stop when his master played the remote,
She begged, “Not fair, Jaanu…..this is so baaad…..Dont do this to me, na! Plzzzz! Mein mar jaaongi” (Not fair, darling. This is bad. Don’t do this. I will just die).
Chetan sensed his wife’s sexual frustration with some delight but kissed her on the mouth to hide his triumph, and whispered into her ear gently, “Baby, let me do this my way. Just listen to me and go with the flow”. His hand pushed Shobha’s head towards him, and Shobha’s lips kissed his and closed her eyes. He opened his mouth and forced his tongue into her mouth. She readily met his tongue with hers and in its urgency he guaged her elevated arousal. His right hand confirmed it when he pushed it deep under her panty, parted her pussy lips and discovered they were soaking wet.
The bitch is truly warmed up, he thought to himself!
Now we need to move to a different party game.
Still kissing Shobha, he pulled her up into a sitting position. She was slowly recovering her breath, and leaned against his chest, her left palm pressed against his right shoulder. She broke the kiss and looked at him quizzically. A bare chested Bhola was sitting at the edge of the bed, mouth slightly open, his hands crossed against his crotch and waiting for the next command to follow.
His left hand now around Shobha, and holding her against his chest, Chetan seeded the next part of the script, “To Bhola thodi der pehle Bhabhi ke bare mein kya keh rahe the?“.
For Bhola, the change in context from cunnilingus to conversation was a little too fast, and he could only manage, “Hunhh?”
Chetan repeated his question slowly as if speaking to a child, “Thodi der pehle Bahbhi ke bare mein kya bole?” (Some time back what did you say about Bhabhi?)
Bhola wasnt prepared for this viva voce and desperately scanned his lust-clogged brain for the answer to the quiz question. He ventured cautiously, “Yehi ki bhabhi mmm.mmm maal hai?” (That she is a hot piece) The young lad was perturbed that while the right answer could keep him in play, the wrong answer could eject him from the stage.
Chetan patiently cued him with the answer, “Maal toh hai. Woh to mein ne kaha tha. Tum bole ki bhabhi ekdum top model hai? Bole ki nahi?” (Of course, she is a hot piece. And I said that. But you said Bhabhi is a top model, no?)
Bhola gladly latched on to the cue and nodded his head happily, “Haan, saheb! Bhabhi ekdum top model hai“, and added rather unhelpfully given his limited repertoire. “Ek dum Poonam Pandey ishtyle top model!”
Chetan winced and chose to ignore the reference though he could understand what drove the similarity,
Patiently, he continued “Toh, top models kya harti hain, Bhola?” (So what do top models do, Bhola?)
Bhola thought furiously and guessed, “TV pe modeling karti hain“.
Chetan gritted his teeth at the moron’s imbecility and took a deep breath to calm himself. Shobha sensed his exasperation. She too was frustrated and wanted the next act to kick in quickly.
She pulled Chetan’s face close to her and wispered fiercely in his ear, “Janu, just ask me to fuck me quickly! You can check his general knowledge later!”
Chetan forced himself to be patient. “Top models, catwalk pe chalti hain, Bhola. Bhabhi se catwalk karwayeein?”, and then added so that Bhola didnt have to suffer further challenge to his comprehension ability, “Catwalk matlab fashion parade! Bhabhi se fashion parade kaywayeein?” (Shall we get bhabhi to do a fashion parade on the catwalk!)
Bhola’s eyes lit up with anticipation. He could recall that fashion TV channel when some foreign models did a fashion parade. What he recalled was that they were skimpily clad. If babhi was going to do this, he was all for it! Bhola grinned in happy endorsement.
“So its decided! Baby, you are going to do a fashion parade for both me and Bhola!”, Chetan announced looking at Shobha. He was beginning to enjoy playing the game master in this bedroom reality show with a cast of two.
Shobha pushed herself back, and eyes blazing hissed angrily, “Jaanu, what the fuck are you upto? What fucking catwalk do you want me to do?!”
Chetan patted her patiently, and asked Bhola to get the wireless Bose soundock speaker they had left behind in the balcony. Bhola obediently left the room to fetch the speaker from the balcony giving a couple a few moments of privacy.
“Patience, baby, just go with the flow! I know what I am doing.”
“But why cant you just let him fuck me?”, and then added hastily lest she be misunderstood, “And you too, of course!”
Chetan ignored the suggestion and resisted a quip to educate Shobha that he wasnt debating the end, and was but focused on getting the means to an end,
“Baby, just trust me.” and decided to try the same line he pitched to Bhola, “Sabr kao, baby! Sabr ka phal meetha hota hai!” (be patient, honey. Patience has a sweet fruit.
By now Bhola had made a re-entry helpfully carrying the Bose soundock. Shobha kept quiet, took a deep breath and thought hard about what what she could do. Maybe, I can turn the tables on both these dicks, she thought to herself and gleefully brightened at the thought.
The issue sorted, and domestic consensus reached, Chetan connected his mobile to the sound dock, and busied himself with choosing an appropriate song for the occassion.
Shobha rolled off the bed and decided to take a couple of minutes to brush her hair and touch up her makeup. She decided to retain her kimono but decided to wear a pair of high heels. By now Chetan had selected his songlist and foot-tapping catwalk friendly music was blaring through the speakers. Chetan dimmed the lights to the room to get the mood right. Shobha walked to the far end of the room, and took a couple of deep breaths to get into the mood herself. She mentally lined up the stretch of the bedroom she was going to walk down, and asked the boys to clear the path and step back. She had done a catwalk at fashion shows in her college days, but it seemed bizarre – and also a turn on – to do this in the house in front of her husband and a very horny male servant.
Fuck it, she thought, just let me go with the flow!
And then she started her catwalk.
Both men sat on the two arm chairs by the side of bed watching the spectacle. Shobha was a natural. The high heels forced a natural and sexy gait with her hips swinging seductively. Striking an imperious look came naturally to her. She exaggerated the swinging of her hips – against something that didn’t need much practise for her to perfect. After walking the stretch of the bedroom and back a couple of time, she paused, hands on her hip, head tilted back, lips pouting, struck a couple of poses and without breaking a stride even threw in a couple of kisses to the hooting men. Bhola had been clapping his hands lustily and when Chetan began whistling, two fingers hooked to his lips, Bhola joined in and gave an even better and lustier whistle. After all, he had plenty of practice in the front benches in the theatres in Jharkhand in his teenage days. Watching a sexy Shobha haughtily walk the stretch in her high heels, bare thighs and gyrating hips challenged him to bring out his hootiest best. He didn’t disappoint.
Just when Shobha thought she was done, Chetan had another surprise.
“Baby, let’s end with a strip tease!”
Without missing a beat, he began playing Joe Cocker’s “You can leave your Hat on” from the movie Nine and a Half Weeks.
Shobha was getting into the mood and was equally determined to give it back. She had no intention of doing a full monty but was quite cool about stripping down to her lingerie. She was also now getting turned on with the prospect of teasing two leering men.
She cast her mind back to Kim Bassinger’s moves in the movie and felt she could raise the performance standard. She repeated her catwalk, and came to a halt just a few feet from the two men. Standing still, she twisted and rotated her waist and struck a few poses while playing with the sash on her kimono. She teasingly opened the kimono, gave the men a quick peek before striking another pose and wrapping the sash back.
And then finally with a flourish, just as the song ended, she threw off her kimono completely on the bed, bent her back, and hands on the hips, struck a pose clad in just her black bra and inner wear.
“Statue!”, said Chetan at the exact moment that the music came to a halt.
The room was filled with complete silence. Chetan reached out and turned the lights back brighter.
Shobha stood immobile like a statue, hands on her hips, one knee slightly bent, head angled and looking past the men at the corner of the room, breasts thrust out. Even Chetan sucked his breath and stayed frozen – Shobha looked like a sculpture from Ajanta except that she was clad in just bra and panties.
“Statue” was a game Shobha and Chetan played in the early days of their marriage to spice up their sex life. When one of them said “statue”, the other had to freeze for two minutes. In that two minutes, the other partner calling “statue” was free to do anything to the statue’s body but immobility had to be maintained by the statue. The game led to delicious outcomes, but in subsequent years as commonness of marriage set in, and especially after motherhood happened, the game was forgotten.
This time they had an extra player thrown in.
Bhola was the first to react at the frozen erotic spectacle. “Saheb, Shobha bhabhi ekdum must maal lag rahein Hain” , he said unmindful that Shobha may be frozen as a statue but was within earshot. Andd then turning to Chetan, his eyes bright and shining in lust, Bhola asked, “Saheb, bhabhi ko haath lagaoon?” (Saheb, Shobha bhabhi is looking like a bomb. Can I touch her?”)
Staying immobile like a statue, her gaze focused beyond the two men, eyes unblinking, Shobha gave no sign of having heard Bhola. A speechless Chetan took a few seconds to nod. This wasn’t part of his script, and he had thought of it almost at the last moment but it wasn’t a bad finale to the catwalk at all and he was glad that Shobha had caught on quickly. Separately, Chetan also noted with satisfaction that Bhola had addressed the question to him and not to Shobha.
Bhola, his heart beating wildly, got up from the armchair and gingerly approached Shobha. She stayed immobile like a statue, eyes staring into the distance and ignoring an approaching Bhola. Bhola, childishly and gleefully waved his hands in front of Shobha’s face.
Shobha didn’t blink, playing her part of a statue to the hilt.
Bhola felt encouraged and circled his bhabhi now boldly and shamelessly drinking in the sight of every square inch of her exposed skin as he walked around her. Shobha’s chest was heaving a little bit with the excitement of the catwalk and the exertion of the strip tease. The black bra fitted her snugly and accentuated her breasts firmness and shape. There was generous cleavage on display and Bhola lasciviously peered at the cleavage disappear into the bra. The bra moulded itself around her alluring globes. Bhola got closer to the cleavage, his nose a few inches away from Shobha’s gently heaving bra-covered bosom as if examining the skin for any blemishes. Gingerly, and mustering courage, he touched Shobha’s right breast over the bra with a stretched index finger and feeling for the spot where he judged the nipple would be. And repeated the touch for the other breast.
Shobha, the statue did not move.
Encouraged, the lad dipped his finger between the bra and the breast, following the curve of the cleavage. Her skin felt warm and firm to touch and he felt a shiver of excitement. The bra was snug and fitted tightly to the globes. Bhola’s finger disappeared a couple of inches inside the bra and touched the nipple.
The nipple was erect.
Bhola teased the erect nipple with his index finger. It felt firm like a rubber tip. For a moment, he felt like grabbing the breasts with both hands. Something told him the spell would break, and he would in any case get a chance later.
His gaze shamelessly and boldly traveled down her flat and fair stomach, the alluring cavity of her bare navel and the curve of her waist. The matching black panties formed a snug triangle at the junction between her thighs. As he walked around behind her, he saw she had a smooth, fair back with the thin black strap of the bra again contrasting with the smoothness of the skin on the back. He checked out the way the back of the panty moulded to her ass cheeks.
He stuck his finger where he judged her anus would be and rubbed the cloth of the panty at the spot. Shobha flinched but just a wee bit.
His perambulation completed, Bhola reached out with an index finger to touch Shobha’s lips. Her lips were luscious and moist. She continued to look past him and didn’t move or bat an eyelid. Encouraged, he pushed his finger in between her lips. Shobha parted her lips, and his finger went into her mouth.
“Two minutes up!” Chetan announced.
Shobha broke her statue spell, and smiled back at Bhola. That startled Bhola a bit and he stepped back, disappointed.
That’s when Chetan stood up and came around and took up position behind Shobha’s back. Chetan, bare chested, stood silently just behind Shobha. Bhola realized that Chetan had dropped his lounge wear bottoms, and was now just in his inner wear. Chetan rested his chin on Shobha’s left shoulder and put his arms lightly on her waist. Then sliding down his arms, he encircled his palms with Shobha’s locking both her palms in his.
“That was awesome, honey!”, he gently whispered into his wife’s ear. “The audience would now like to thank you for your performance. Please accept a token of our thanks”. Shobha smiled at her husband.
She hoped the vote of thanks was not all she would get in appreciation for being a sport.
“Bhola, apna pant utaro!“, (Bhola, take off your pants!) Chetan said loudly and firmly to Bhola.
Bhola quickly took off his pants, and stood in just his striped underwear facing both Shobha and Chetan. He had a distinct bulge that invited scrutiny from both Shobha and Chetan.
Chetan was was meanwhile caressing Shobha’s waist with the finger tips of his left hand, while still holding her right palms in his right hand and standing behind her nuzzling her neck and shoulder. His lelt hand index finger traced the gentle cavity of Shobha’s belly button, while his right palm, gently holding Shobha’s right palm moved up and caressed her right breast over the bra.
“Bhola, apna underwear utaro“. (Bhola, take off your underwear)
Bhola kicked off his underwear and now stood stark naked in front of the couple, his thick dark cock rising at half mast. He had previously taken Shobha’s instructions on grooming etiquette for the evening and had shaved completely. That had the effect of making his erect organ seem more prominent than before. Still nuzzling Shobha’s neck on the left side of her shoulder, Chetan felt her draw in her breath sharply and she took in the sight of the handsome specimen of manhood now on display.
“Bhlola, pass aao!” (Bhola, come closer)
Bhola, his heart beating wildly, stepped forward. He was now less than a foot away from Shobha, facing her and Chetan was standing behind Shobha gently caressing her. Bhola’s own nakedness in close proximity to his mistress and her husband now made him feel suddenly shy. He couldn’t make eye contact with Shobha standing just a few inches in front of him and clad only in her bra and panties.
Still holding Shobha’s right palm in his, Chetan guided Shobha’s hand and moved it to touch Bhola’s half-erect cock. Both Shobha and Bhola audibly drew sharp breath. Bhola’s cock twitched suddenly, and Shobha’s fingers freed themselves from Chetan’s hand and they curled around Bhola’s shaft. This was the same grip she used a week back in her interlude with Bhola, though her husband probably didnt know it. The cock felt hot to touch just as she remembered it. Bhola let out a hiss at the contact of Shobha’s hand with his erect blood gorged organ. Shobha’s gaze was now focused on Bhola’s thick brown cock, and she slowly traced its girth and hardness moving her fingers along the curvature. She was careful not to make any sudden moves, or squeeze too hard – she didn’t want a happy ending too soon.
Chetan continued to rest his chin on Shobha’s left shoulder while gently kissing her neck. and earlobes His fingers, now freed from Shobha’s, gently scratched the side of her waist. His finger dipped inside her panty and pushed deep. The finger parted Shobha’s thick pussy lips and found satisfaction in discovering wetness. He then shifted his palms to gently massage her buttocks.
Seeing that Shobha was comfortable at the buildup of sexual tension, Chetan dropped his own underwear and used one free hand to remove it and toss it away.
The two completely naked men drew closer to Shobha, encircling her from her front and the back. Shobha continued to be clad in her bra and panty, stood still except for her fingers which were hard at work.
At least, they were working on something hard.
Her husband standing just behind her, his arms lightly caressing her waist at the outline of her panty and nuzzling her neck while her handsome servant, his cock proudly erect , was standing in front of Shobha and was getting his cock gently massaged by her.
Chetan unhooked Shobha’s bra from behind and slipped the thin straps off her shoulder.
Shobha took a deep breath, half-closed her eyes and rested her head against Chetan’s right shoulder. Her right hand continued to grasp Bhola’s erect cock.
“Bhola, bhabhi ka bra utaro…. dheere se”, (Bhola, take off bhabhi’s bra), said Chetan softly and in a calm tone. His fingertips were lightly rubbing Shobha’s belly and navel, and the touch was enough to send delicious pinpricks through Shobha’s body.
Bhola happily caught hold of Shobha’s bra by the strap and pulled it down. Chetan had unhooked the bra from the back, and slipped the straps down her shoulders;. So when Bhola tugged at the bra, it came off easily . Bhola, his eyes wide and heart beating wildly, let the bra drop on the floor and stared at his bhabhi.
Her magnificent breasts now freed from the bra, stood firm without a sag. The globes were large, well proportioned and symmetrical and the nipples coin sized with an erect brown areola. Bhola had seen the sight before, and it seemed even more erotic now in a brightly lit room and with her husband standing just behind her. Shobha had her head nested against Chetan,. Her eyes were still half closed in a dreamy way, and she continued caressing Bhola’s cock in a slow lazy way.
“Sss…Saheb….Bhabhi ko tttt.ttt touch karoon?” (Saheb, can I touch Bhabi?), stuttered Bhola, his eyes now locked into the sight of Shobha’s mammaries. Chetan noted with some satisfaction that the request for permission was addressed to him, and not to the owner of the body.
Chetan nodded granting approval.
Bhola gleefully reached out with both hands to grab Shobha’s naked breasts. They felt warm to touch and surprisingly very firm. He first pinched her nipples, one after the other and then both together. Shobha winced but smiled gently and this seemed to only encourage him. He fiddled with the erect nipples, holding them between his thumb and index finger and then turning them clockwise and then anti-clockwise as if they were radio dials. He then grasped both breasts by the underside, lifting them gently as if weighing them. They felt full and firm. He then squeezed one breast, and then the other as if squeezing a rubber ball.
Meanwhile Shobha continued to tease and torment Bhola’s cock. The rhythm of her ministrations matched with the way Bhola was playing with her boobs.
Chetan brought his lips close to Shobha’s ears and in a whisper so that Bhola couldn’t hear, asked her the question he was curious about.
“Baby, do you want to take his cock into your mouth?
Shobha shook her head vigorously. Chetan smiled to himself. His wife was sexually aggressive and uncommonly bold, when the right triggers were activated but he had always sensed she had certain frontiers that were difficult for her to cross.
He was fine with it.
Atleast for now.
It was time now to move the act to the final scene.
He pulled down Shobha’s panties. She helped him, lifting one leg and then the other but not letting go of Bhola’s cock. Bhola wide-eyed followed the descent of Shobha’s panties as her husband pulled it down. Her jet black silky pubic hair jumped into view contrasting with the golden light reflected on her skin. The pubic hair seemed to glisten with tiny beads of moisture from the wetness of her pussy. Chetan noticed the damp spot on her panty as he pulled it off. Instead of tossing away the garment, the husband gave his wife’s panty to their servant. Bhola let go of Shobha’s breasts and began sniffing Shobha’s panty. Chetan’s own cock was now erect and pressing against Shobha’s ass.
Chetan took advantage of Bhola’s release of Shobha’s breasts and picked her up in his arms. Shobha let go of Bhola’s cock, and let herself go limp in Chetan’s arms. Chetan threw her on the bed on her back for the second time that night. Quickly, he crawled over on all fours, naked, to take position by her head. He quickly held her by her hands and began kissing her on the mouth. At the same time, he gestured to Bhola to join them on the bed. Bhola obliged, dropping the panty presumably for attention later, and crawled onto the bed.
Shobha spread her legs wide signalling to Bhola the position he should take.
“Bhola, Bhabho ko chato. Bilkul jaise pehle kiya tha!”, commanded the husband. (Bhola, lick bhabhi. Exactly like before!)
Bhola, on all fours, obliged readily. The pussy was joyously wet and oozing, with her feminine odour now driving him crazy. Shobha had spread her thighs shamelessly wide allowing free access. Bhola noted the brown and thick pussy lips, and hiding within the lips , saw the pink coloured opening to her vulva jump into view. This was his gateway to heaven. For a horny twenty-something sex starved male from Jharkhand, his throat went dry and his cock twitched at the sight. Bhola lowered his head between Bhabhi’s legs and attacked her pussy with his tongue.
Shobha arched her back as Bhola went slurp, slurp, slurp…… Chetan stopped kissing Shobha on the mouth and raised his head to soak in the erotic spectacle of his wife being eaten by her handsome servant. He added to her ecstasy by squeezing her breasts the way Bhola was doing earlier. Bhola himself didn’t seem like a novice. After all, he had made his acquaintance with babhi’s pussy a week back – though her husband probably didn’t know it – and had just completed a dry run a short while back. All this practise helped him raise his game, and bhabhi seemed to be thoroughly appreciative judging by the moaning sounds emanating from her.
And saheb seemed to be indulgently encouraging his effort. It couldn’t get better than this!
Chetan sensed, yet again, that Shobha was nearing climax and tapped Bhola on his shoulder to stop. His jaw wet and smeared with the juices from Bhabhi’s pussy, the young lad looked up. Realizing that this was an interruption and not a termination of the activity, he sat back on his haunches. Chetan noticed that Bhola’s cock was erect with a prominent bulging knob-like tip.
Shobha slapped her forehead and groaned at this torment. “Jaanu, mein mar jaoongi….. dont be so cruel!“, (Darling, I will die!) she pleaded, writhing on the bed. Chetan had to hide his glee at her sexual distress. He waited for her ardour to cool a bit, continuing to massage her breasts, and then felt it was time to ask her the big question.
“Jaanu, do you want Bhola to fuck you now?”
Shobha whined in exasperation and said in a little girl tone, “Of course, Jaanu….. Yeh bhi kya poochne ki baat hai?” (Is this even worth asking?!)
Chetan brought his mouth close to Shobha’s ear, and told her, “So ask me nicely, baby”
Shobha moaned in her baby girl tone, “Yes, Jaanu, I want Bhola to fuck me.”
“No, that wont do! Ask me nicely!”
In that state, Shobha would have agreed to say or do anything Chetan wanted her to. Her pussy was on fire, and she was writhing on the bed on her ass, rubbing her thighs together. Chetan continued to squeeze her breasts and a bemused Bhola, seated on his haunches on the bed, hands on his knees watching the couple and was trying to make sense of the family mini-squabble. He happily noted his name mentioned, and sensed someone was pleading for his case.
Shobha tried to get the words right slowly, “Jaanu, can Bhola fuck me?”
“Say please”, insisted Chetan.
Shobha gritted her teeth and pleaded, “Please, Janu, Please….. Can Bhola fuck me?”
“Once more! And loudly this time!”
An exasperated Shobha shouted, “Jaanu, please can Bhola fuck me now?”
Chetan smiled. This felt good to hear. “Go ahead, baby!”.
And then to Bhola, “Bhola, Bhabhi ko choRocky(D)e?” (Bhola, wll you fuck your mistress?)
Bhola’s face lit up with joy. Without waiting for further invitation, he lined himself up between Shobha’s legs and brought his thick cock up against her pussy.
Shobha hadn’t lost all her wits. She wanted to make sure that Bhola didnt come across as being on familiar territory. She raised her head, eager to guide his cock. Bhola did need that help. He had done Bhabhi more than a couple of times last week, but never in missionary style. It didn’t seem difficult, but he was glad when bhabji’s eager hand grabbed the tip of his thick swollen cock and escorted it to the valley of pleasure.
With a deep breath and in a single stroke, Bhola’s cock parted Shobha’s pussy and went in all the way.
“Unnnnhhhhhhhhh…….Uuuuiii“, Shobha moaned with pleasure, her eyes closed and drawing in a deep breath. Her hands stretched out, looking for Chetan, found his hand and gratefully intertwined her fingers tightly with his.
And Bhola began pumping.
Shobha’s mouth opened like an “O”, her eyes widened but in an unfocused way and she found herself gasping from breath. She grasped Chetan’s palm tightly with her fingernails digging into his wrist, as he held on firmly to both her hands.
This wasn’t the first time that Bhola was fucking his bhabhi, but this was the first time he was doing it in old fashioned missionary position. The position gave him much better mobility, and being able to see Bhabhi’s round breasts flapping in rhythm as he shoved his cock in and out of her pussy was all the motivation he needed. He was also able to pump deeper and harder in this position.
Chetan gazed at the sight before him. His naked wife had her head between his own naked thighs. Hie own erect cock was pointing in the air, and just a few inches away from Shobha’s face and mouth. But she wasn’t focused on him. Or his cock .Her eyes were staring unseeingly at the ceiling, her magnificent breasts naked and glistening in the yellow golden light of the bedroom. Her nipples were fully erect.
And the cause of this condition was the young handsome stud from Jharkhand, whose thick dark brown swollen cock was going like a piston in and out of Bhabhi’s pussy. The shaft was beginning to glisten with reflection from the bedroom light on the wetness that it picked up from her wet pussy. Bhola’s hands were on either side of Shobha’s waist, pressed hard on the bed to give him leverage and his lithe back was arched upwards, his broad chest and strong shoulders – muscled but not too bulging – and his back tapering off into small, tight, rounded buttocks a lighter shade of brown compared to the rest of his back.
Bhola looked like a greek statue come to life, carefully sculpted and now copulating with his delirious mistress.
Chetan was observing carefully. His young athlete, he realized, was running a sprint when he should be pacing a marathon.
“Dheere, Bhola! Dheera! Yeh T20 match nahim hain, abhi to tumhe test match khelna hai”, Chetan placed a hand on Bhola’s shoulder to slow him down.
Bhola was looking down on Shobha’s contorted face. He now looked up at Chetan, but his eyes were glazed and his pelvis still going like a piston drilling into Shobha’s pussy. He showed no sign of having heard his coach’s advisory.
Chetan let go of the restraint on Shobha’s palms, and slapped Bhola firmly on his cheek twice – not too hard, but hard enough to break through the fog in his lust-laden brain.
Chetan paused suddenly in mid-hump, and looked at Chetan who evidently seemed annoyed with him but relieved that he had the young stud’s attention. Chetan mimed slow motion movement with his palms to cue Bhola the slow pace he wanted Bhola to pump.
“Dheere, Bhola, Dheere!”, Chetan broke his words into syllables, (Slow! Bhola, Slow!)
Bhola over corrected for the instructions. And stopped completely mid-stroke, looking at Chetan for the next cue.
Chetan slapped his forehead.
Lying below Bhola, and her head ensconced between Chetan’s thighs, Shobha shrieked at the rude and sudden interruption.
“Bijli chali gayi kya?! Jaanu, what the fuck is this! ” (Did the power just go off?!), and then calming down a bit, “Janu, cant you just let him do me without applying the brakes!”
But Bhola was a fast learner. He learnt that the game was to tease and torment, and not to just hump and pump. Chetan cued him, “Bhola, tumhe bus toh nahin pakadni hai na?” (You dont need to catch a bus, do you?!).
Like an orchestra conductor, Chetan used his hands to indicate when Bhola should speeden up, and when he should slow down!”
For Shobha, this was a new experience. She was by nature used to exercising control. This was in built into the deep exhibition streak she had. She derived a sense of power by displaying, offering and withholding her femininity to men around her, including her husband.
The urge and desire to sexually dominate at various times resulted in behavior that would seek her to tease, shock, seduce males around her.
This evening, things were running differently. Both men, acting in tandem, had ganged up on her and her writ was not working. The only consolation was that her husband appeared in control.
Shobha gave up trying to suggest an alternate script, and let her body respond to the rhythm of Bhola’s pumping. At Chetan’s command, Bhola slowed down and to an almost slow motion pace. To both Chetan and Bhola, this meant the slow sight of Bhola’s cock penetrate and Shobha’s thick, wet pussy lips and pulling back. Bhola slowly pulled out his entire cock from the pussy. Shobha’s pussy lips squeezed the cock, reluctant to let go and it came out with a small “pop” sound. Bhola lost no time in slowly inserting the cock back into the pussy. For Bhola, this was a new experience and he realized the slow motion pumping gave him a chance to soak in the visual details of his bhabi’s named body in the throes of passion, and gave him a much greater sense of control.
Shobha could finally take no more of it and grabbed Bhola’s round, tight buttocks hard with her fingernails, leaving angry scratch marks on his brown skin and began moving her own pelvis up and down to make up for Bhola’s lack of kinetics.
In a distant part of Shobha’s passion-racked brain, she realized the irony that a week back, Bhola had mauled and ravaged her body by the brute force of his coupling, and now it was she who was scratching and squeezing Bhola demanding urgency and vigor.
Finally, as both men watched in fascination Shobha began to spasm and contort. She began to gasp for breath. Her eyes shut tightly, she tossed her head back and her naked body began trembling uncontrollably as waves of orgasm swept over her.
And finally peace descended on her.
t took a few minutes before Shobha opened her eyes. If she had opened them earlier, she would have seen the sight of her husband high-five his co-conspirator and their servant, now promoted to a lover,
As her breathing slowly returned to normal, she looked around at both men. Both had the gloating look that comes for men with the vanity of having served a large orgasm for their woman.
Never mind that there was teamwork involved here.
Still on her back on the bed, a naked and glowing Shobha smiled at both men. She also noticed that both men still sported a hard-on. She curiously looked from one cock to the other, making a mental comparison.
Bhola’s cock was thick, with a shaft the colour of chocolate brown and had a round knob of lighter shade of brown at the tip. The neighbourhood to the cock was clean shaven, but instead of giving his apparatus a neat freshly scrubbed look, it accentuated the bulging veins and leathery texture of the shaft which could not hide its working class character. Distinctly hard working, weather beaten and rugged – that’s what the cock signaled about its owner. It was the kind of cock, a woman would like to package into a handbag, and would love to show off at a kitty party where it might draw a mix of giggles and envious looks.
If you looked past the hairy convexity of Chetan’s belly, you saw that he had a fair, nearly pinkish cock. The mix of baby pink complexion and blue veins gave it a posh upper class look. Unlike Bhola, the foreskin covered the full length giving it a sausage appearance. You could make out by the cock that its owner was sophisticated, genteel and likely to be found travelling business class or someone you would encounter in a five star hotel. Definitely white collar, without much exposure to the weather, the organ seemed accustomed to being bathed in milk and honey. Definitely the kind of cock, whose owner – if you had a choice – you would love to introduce to your grandmother, confident that you would get her approval.
Shobha’s contemplation of the anatomical diversity of male genitalia discoverable in proximity of her immediate neighbourhood was cut short with both males stretching out and taking station on either side of her nude body. Both seized common interest in her breasts and began subjecting it to competing ministrations but contrasting styles.
Bhola began sucking her left breast greedily and noisily making up in vigour what he clearly lacked in technique. As if oral attention to the object of pleasure wasn’t enough, he put his large palms to good use rhythmically squeezing those firm globes. Shobha was faintly reminded of his efforts kneading dough in the kitchen but this initiative from him definitely brought her more pleasure. Despite having drowned in a shattering orgasm minutes back, she found herself getting aroused once again.
Chetan’s approach was more akin to a maestro, and one who had been around the block a few times unlike his less experienced rival occupying territory on Shobha’s left breast. Lying down adjacent to Shobha, he cupped her chin with his palm turned her towards his face and gave her a deep kiss. His fingers then teased Shobha’s right breast, outlining the nipple with an index finger that he moistened by first inserting in her mouth. His fingers then traced the curve of the lower part of her breast, taking care to stay away from the other breast yielded to the younger rival. The fingers then caressed her abdomen, played with the gentle cavity of her navel, traversed the silky forest of Shobha’s sparse pubic hair, parted her thick and wet pussy lips and made a pit stop at the clitoris. Using his three fingers, Chetan massaged and teased the swollen bud. His mouth then latched on to Shobha’s nipple and gently bit the areola.
Shobha shuddered at the multiple assaults on her naked body. Two horny men we simultaneously sucking, locking, squeezing and massaging her erogenous zones. In a few minutes, Chetan sensed that she was nearing a second climax and this time, he let nature take its own course and made sure he was kissing her and fingering her pussy when Shobha erupted in another noisy climax.
“Uuuui…maaaaa……“, Shobha again arched her back, eyes tightly shut and each of her hands clutching tightly the head and hair of her two lovers. As Shobha erupted in a noisy orgasm for the second time in ten minutes, Bhola was watching in fascination her facial contortions and the way her magnificent naked body was spasming. In his earlier sexual episode with Shobha, the young lad was crazed by the selfish but powerful instinct to quench his own lust, and hadnt paid much attention to the satisfaction of the female partner. He now watched and observed, realizing that sexual power could be commanded by the male by withholding one’s climax and tormenting and teasing the female partner to push her over the abyss of feminine bliss.
The young lad was getting a masterclass on sex.
Chetan himself was amazed by what he had pulled off. His own monogamous marital life had, until now, slipped slowly but surely into the boring morass of familiarity that afflicts all couples once they descend into parenthood. His weekly sex with Shobha was good, but nothing great. With the introduction of a virile, and docile – or so he thought – male into the mix, Shobha seemed to have re-ignited her latent streak of exhibitionism. The spark had led him – and Shobha – to push the sexual boundary beyond passive exhibitionism. The resulting flames from exhibitionism seemed to produce heat and lust beyond what he had previously contemplated. The flames had resulted in Shobha and he orchestrating a threesome, and resulting in Shobha getting fucked by a handsome virile male in his presence. The trick, he mused, was to keep the flames under control. They were still an upper-class couple, well recognized in social and professional circles, though they might be now locked down for the time being. He had to make sure the threesome remained an experience that didn’t spiral out of control.
All that pondering aside, he still had a hard-on and sensed it was now beginning to slowly wilt. He craned his neck and peered past the voluptuousness of Shobha’s naked and heaving breasts as she lay recovering from her second orgasm and saw that his rival’s organ was suffering similar fortunes.
As Shobha’s breathing returned to normalcy for the second time that evening, she too sensed with gratitude that her male partners had been selfless in catering to her pleasure. They deserved a treat.
She decided to take things into her own hands.
Shobha reversed her lying down position so that she was now facing the naked men, though still lying between them. Bhola helpfully assisted her with a couple of pillows to support her back so that she was half reclining. She adjusted her position so that each of her ankles was locked into the armpit of each of the men. This also caused her to spread her thighs wide exposing her pussy obscenely to the two men. The two men continued to lie down but facing her now, and they too adjusted a pillow under each of their heads to enjoy the erotic view. Shobha slid down a couple of inches so that her waist was now between the hips of the two men.
Comfortably ensconced in a half-reclining position, her feet locked in the armpit of the two men, her naked breasts up for display, her legs parted exposing her pussy to the two pairs of male eyes, she now reached out and grabbed both cocks simultaneously one in each hand.
Holding one cock in each hand, she started rhythmically squeezing and pulling the two shafts in perfect unison.
For the first time that evening, Chetan and Bhola surrendered themselves to Shobha.
For both of them, this was eroticism at its best. Both men lay on their back, head upraised on the pillow. Chetan had his hands locked behind his head. Bhola reached out and began playing with Shobha’s breast, squeezing the breast and pinching her erect nipple. Shobha had her back supported against a pile of pillows, her foot giving her leverage against the shoulders of the two men, her knees partly pulled up and spread apart and her glistening pussy, still dripping with juices from two orgasms opened up for inspection to the two men, and firmly giving both a hand job.
This continued for about five minutes. Chetan was the first to sense that he was about to .cum, and didnt want to do so before his male rival. He reached out to cover Shobha’s grip over his cock with with his own hand. Shobha quickly realized her husband’s imminent climax and sensed he didnt want it to end this way without a fuck. Also, her hands were beginning to tire.
The time for foreplay was over. Shobha wanted to get back to fucking.
The dilemma was who should she fuck first? Her husband or her lover?
Shobha made her choice. In a single, smooth action, she got off her half-reclining position and straddled Chetan’s waist. Still holding Chetan’s cock and letting go of Bhola’s cock, she adjusted the angle of her hips and slowly lowered herself on Chetan’s erect cock. Chetan drew a deep breath not just in elation at being the chosen consort for copulation but also because he felt his cock part his wife’s tight pussy lips and slither into her tight tunnel. Bhola watched, his eyes wide open. Shobha had done the same favour to him last week, but watching her do it to her husband in front of him, and watch her take in her husband’s cock, and see the cock slowly disappear into her pussy was a million times better than the sleazy porn shows he had watched in smelly dimly lit theatres. Shobha initially ignored him completely. She leaned forward, her full breasts crushed against Chetan’s hairy chest and she kissed Chetan on the mouth. Both husband and wife sucked each other’s lips hungrily, with Bhola staring wide-eyes and just inches away.
Chetan broke the kiss first. He held Shobha’s head between his hands, looked at her lovingly, caressed her thick black hair that was partially covering her face as she lay over his chest. His cock still snugly parked into her pussy, Chetan lovingly tucked in Shobha’s wayward locks of hair behind her ears. Shobha smiled at him and they both touched their nose tips together more like romantic teenagers and oblivious of the leering servant.
Chetan discreetly pulled her head aside and whispered softly into her ear that was away from Bhola.
He asked Shobha the same question for the third time that evening.
“Baby, do you want to take his cock into your mouth?”.
Shobha shook her head once again, “No Janu”, she said softly, and then whispered after a pause, “Not now”.
She then raised herself and looked at Bhola finally giving him her attention. Ever since Shobha chose to favour Chetan’s cock over Bhola’s, our lad from Jharkhand was feeling a bit left out and the intimate from the tete-a-tete and romantic canoodling between the husband and wife made him feel jealous. He may have been a servant but even servants have egos. Even when he, their servant, had been invited to share the marital bed with an upper class couple for that evening.
Resigned to his fate, he consoled himself that the evening still had plenty of promise and if the dish was as good as what was on offer – he had the sexy bhabhi in mind, of course – he wasnt complaining about having to settle for left overs.
What Shobha did next made him feel much better and raised his drooping spirits. Not to mention his drooping staff.
With her husband’s cock still nestling snugly in her pussy, and continuing to straddle him, Shobha leaned across and kissed Bhola on the mouth. Chetan reached out for Bhola’s hand and placed on his wife’s exposed breast. The young lad greedily began squeezing the globe as if it were a long-lost rubber ball that he has just found, and simultaneously began sucking bhabhi’s lips. Shobha opened her mouth and let Bhola’s tongue lap hers.
Still wet-kissing Bhola, and moaning with the way Bhola was squeezing her breasts, Shobha raised her waist and began humping her husband.
Chetan reached and grabbed Shobha’s naked buttocks, helpfully supporting her up and down bobbing movement while also watching his naked wife play tongue hockey with her lover who was also squeezing her breasts lustily.
The room was filled with the sounds of Shobha’s buttocks slapping against Chetan’s thighs, the slurping sound of her kissing Bhola and interspersed with her moaning. After several minutes of humping, Chetan tried another variation. Holding Bhola by the neck, he gently pushed the lad to break the kiss with his wife and instead suck her breasts. Bhola welcoming of coaching interventions all through the evening, welcomed the change and began sucking as noisily as he was kissing earlier. This now left Bhola’s hands idle, and Chetan guided him to Shobha’s pussy to just where her pussy lips began. Bhola began caressing the thick and moist pussy lips, but did not know much of what else to do. With perfect husband-wife coordination, Shobha took over from where Chetan left off. Holding Bhola’s fingers in her hand, she guided him to her swollen clitoris and began cuing a rubbing motion. Bhola had been a fast learner on all matters sexual, and realized that he should start doing with his fingers the same magic he had rendered to bhabhi with his mouth that evening last week in his room just before bhabhi took his virginity.
Bhola began rubbing Shobha’s clitoris while simultaneously sucking her breasts. Shobha, impaled on her husband’s cock, began moaning and continued to bounce up and down fucking her husband. Beads of sweat began forming over her forehead, neck and breasts.
Ten minutes later, Chetan felt he was about to burst. He sensed Shobha was still a bit away. He was still holding her buttocks. He quickly put his hands in his mouth, made sure the fingers were coated with dripping saliva, parted Shobha’ buttock cheeks and gently used the wet finger to probe Shobha’s anus. even while she was bouncing up and down on his cock. His thick and now wet middle finger partly teased the puckering hole, and as Shobha lowered herself while bouncing, Chetan’s wet finger partly penetrated her anus.
Shobha reacted as if hit by an electric shock. Her mouth opened wide in form of an “O”, and she half-shrieked and half-moaned. Chetan immediately withdrew the moist finger and now began grazing the sensitive skin between the base of her pussy lips and the anus.
Both husband and wide erupted almost simultatenously into an orgasm.
Shobha had her third orgasm that evening.
Her body shivering spasmodically, her eyes rolling and gasping for breath, she collapsed on top of Chetan’s chest with a loud noisy moan,
Like scores of men before him, Bhola vaguely wondered why some women at that precise moment of sublime sexual bliss vocally invoke their mothers instead of thanking their bed partners for delivering them to their climax.
That left Bhola now as the last cock standing.
Shobha had collapsed over Chetan, breathless and sweating but tightly embracing her husband. After a couple of minutes, she rolled over off Chetan. Chetan’s cock, now limp and wet and covered with her juices and his semen, pulled out of Shobha’s pussy with a faint “pop”. Shobha stretched out naked between the two equally naked men. Almost without missing a beat, Shobha’s hand reached out and possessively grabbed Bhola’s erect cock and began gently massaging it.
Chetan rolled over to his side to watch how his wife would take down the last standing soldier. He was sure it would begin as hand-to-hand combat, but he was curious which party would come out on top.
He didnt have to wait long. Shobha made the first move. Her hair towel that she had discarded earlier that evening after completing her shower, lay at a corner of the bed. Letting go of Bhola’s cock, she used the towel to quickly clean up her dripping juices and Chetan’s cum from her thighs and pussy.
Then, she straddled Bhola by sitting on his thighs but pulled him up into a half sitting position facing her and tightly embraced him.
Bhola was now sitting naked on the bed, his legs stretched out. Shobha sat astride him, her arms around Bhola’s neck, hugging him tightly against her, her breasts squashed against his chest just as Bhola’s erect cock was painfully squeezed between both their bellies. Shobha kissed Bhola on his mouth, barely letting him breathe. Bhola responded back with passion, his own arms wrapped around his bhabhi’s beautiful back and pulling her tightly against him.
After a few minutes of passionate kissing and both lovers letting their arms explore each others back, neck and shoulder, Shobha broke off.
She held Bhola’s face between her palms, touched her nose tip to his and locked her eyes deep into Bhola. Because she was squatting on Bhola’s thighs, her face was at level with him. Without breaking eye contact with Bhola, she lifted her waist while resting her weight on her knees. Bhola’s erect cock pushed against her thighs. She freed one hand from its clamp on Bhola’s cheeks, used it to guide the cock into her pussy and slowly sat down once again, now impaling herself on Bhola’s cock. The hot erect cock slithered into her well lubricated pussy and a moan and a sigh erupted simultaneously from both lovers.
Both Shobha and Bhola were sitting on the bed, facing each other, with Shobha’s thighs wrapped tightly around Bhola’s narrow waist and his cock now buried in her pussy. Her hands went back to holding Bhola’s face between them and her eyes again looked deep into Bhola’s with her nose tip again back to nuzzling Bhola’s.
Both Shobha and Bhola began rocking gently. Very gently and very slowly. At first, both were uncoordinated but like two graceful dancers finding their rhythm in a ballet, their pelvis began grinding into each other in perfect tandem. And eyes stayed locked into each other.
Chetan, the husband, found the lovers position evocative of a sculpture from Khajuraho. It was simultaneously both incredibly sexy as well as romantic. Shobha locked her eyes with Bhola. This completely mesmerized the young lad who found it more intimate that the physical penetration his cock had accomplished of his bhabhi’s pussy. The gentle rocking of their bodies in tandem – rather than the vigorous humping that Shobha used previously to fuck her husband made their couple seem more divine rather than seem debauched.
And Shobha began cooing to Bhola, while continuing the gentle rocking.
“Mere pyaare Bhola raja“, (My dear Bhola) she murmured repeatedly, her slender fingers framing Bhola’s slightly sweating face, her mouth intimately close to Bhola’s but just refraining from a kiss. Her naked breasts were mashed against his chest. Bhola could feel his bhabhi’s erect nipples against his bare chest. His palms massaged her bare back pulling her tightly against him into an embrace.
“Bhola, mazaa aa raha hain na?”, (Bhola, are you having fun?) Shobha asked him hoarsely, her eyes locked into his.
Frankly, it was a pointless question. The young lad was visibly inching towards the doorstep to sexual heaven.
“Bhola, bhabhi pooch rahi hai ki tumhe maza aa raha hai ki nahin?”, (Bhola, bhabhi is asking if you are having fun) Chetan helpfully amplified the question seeking to play interlocutor between the two lovers. He was stretched out naked next to the intertwined lovers, lying on his side, his head resting on one palm supported on his elbows and the other palm absent-mindedly playing with his flaccid freshly-discharged and sticky cock. He was watching the Khajuraho-like spectacle on his bed. For all you know, he might have been stretched out on the sand in a nudist beach playing with his cock and watching the sunset instead of watching his naked wide copulate with her lover and their servant right next to him on their marital bed.
Bhola always had a struggle trying to make polite social conversation when his libido was engaged in top gear, but this was his master speaking. He found it difficult to break hypnotic eye contact with his mistress who was gently rocking on his naked thigh, while his cock lay buried inside her wet pussy. Our man could manage a feeble effort.
“Haan, saheb“, he panted, “Bada maza aa raha hai. Bhabhi ekdum must hain“. (Yes, sir. Am having fun. Bhabhi is hot!)
Chetan noted Bhola’s limited repertoire of words to describe his mental and physical state. Bhola was interwined with his naked bhabhi in what was looking like an enactment of a long-forgotten posture from the Kamasutra, and a bit more prose would have done justice to the scenery.
“Tumhara toh sapna such ho raha hai na, Bhabhi ko chodne ka?“, (It must be a dream come true for you to fuck your bhabhi like this).
Chetan helpfully cued him chancing a bit of coarseness. After all, readers have been previously acquainted with his provenance from Delhi.
Bhola grabbed the conversation opener, “Haan, saheb, bahut dinon se bhabhi ko dekh ke hum pagla jaate the…….. bhabhi ekdum garam he….Bhabhi ko chodne ka hamara sapna tha … Abhi sach hua. Saheb, appko bahut dhanyawad)”
(Yes, sire! I would go crazy watching bhabhi! She is a hot piece! It was my dream to fuck her. Today its come true! Thanks to you, sir!).
The lad had his cock nestling in bhabhi’s pussy and he felt giving a vote of thanks to the bhabhi’s husband would let him keep his peace for now. Not to mention help him protect his posture.
“Kyon, kabhi bhabhi pe muth mara hai kya tumne?”, Chetan baited Bhola with more coarseness. (Have you ever masturbated thinking about your bhabhi?)
“Haan, saheb, bhabhi ko soch ke hum muth marte the. Har raat ko!”, (Yes, sir! I used to masturbate while fantasizing about her. Every night!) Bhola confessed naively thinking honesty would get him to conclude this conversation more quickly. After all, he wanted to get back to the business of banging his beautiful bhabhi.
“Suna, Shobha? Tumhara aashiq tumhe sock ke tum pe muth marta tha bechara!”, (Did you hear that, Shobha?! Your lover used to fantasize about you when masturbating! The poor guy!) Chetan tagged Shobha into the conversation.
“Bhola, tum toh ekdum badmash ho ……….. Koi bhala apni bhabhi ke bare mein aisa sochta hai kya! Naughty boy!“, (Bhola, you are an evil man! Does anyone fantasize about their own bhabhi?! Naughty boy!) Shobha slapped Bhola’s cheek playfully while continue to rock gently on his cock.
Bhola was meanwhile becoming aware of another strange sensation. Shobha was alternately tightening and relaxing her pussy muscles over Bhola’s cock. This unfamiliar and yet delightful feeling, and Shobha’s gently rocking motion and her naughty talk made Chetan’s cock swell even more. His cock ached deliciously in its captivity, and begged relief. He looked at Shobha. Her hair seemed wild now, and she had a wanton look on her face. Her lips seemed so juicy – so near and yet so far. Shobha wasnt even letting him kiss her. He tried once again, but she put her slender finger coyly between their lips and nudged him back, while continuing to rock gently.
Bhola now began to grow exasperated – he was fully aroused but couldn’t have his way with her. These high society niceties be damned, he wanted to just throw a naked Shobha on the bed, flip her around, shove his swollen cock into her pussy from behind and just fuck her violently Rocky(D)gie style. He gritted his teeth and kept up the nicety of rocking back and forth. The effort of having to make polite conversation with the husband was beginning to grate on his nerves.
Bhola’s sex partner was forcing him into some silly ball room steps, when all Bhola wanted to do was to dance a wild bhangra
Bhola’s sex partner was forcing him into some coy Khajuraho foreplay when all he wanted to do was to fuck her Jharkhand style.
Bhola’s sex partner’s husband was forcing him to strain his brain with some polite conversation when all he wanted was to grunt and pump.
Shobha sensed that Bhola was chafing at the restraint. It secretly delighted her – after all, this is what she yearned for – to tease and torment a man. A bit like showing a starving man delicious dish, make him smell the aroma and yet offer him but a morsel.
She decided to twist the knife further. A n amused Chetan stopped speaking and fiddling with his flaccid cock and watched the sexual tension build up between his wife and her lover. He sensed the bitch in her was beginning to bloom, and was going to charge through the chink he had mischievously opened up in his sexual rival’s armour.
“Mere badmash Bhola! Jab muth marte the toh mere bare mein kya sochte the? Bolo, mein bhi toh sunoon!”, (My naughty Bhola! When you were shagging, you were fantasizing about me! Tell me about your fantasy! I want to hear more.) Shobha teased Bhola with some baby talk in a little-girl voice. She continued to look deep into his eyes while rocking herself gently, the movement producing gentle to and fro motion on Bhola’s cock. She touched the tip of her nose with Bhola’s.
Bhola tried to kiss her, but she pulled back like a coy damsel.
Which she most definitely wasn’t.
“Haain, bhabhi, aapke muth marta tha! Aaj chod raha hoon!”, (Yes, bhabhi! Its true that I would fantasize about you when masturbating.) Bhola voice rose a few octaves as he self-incriminated himself with this confession. Better to brazen it out, he thought, and conclude the distraction.
“Badmash! Naught Boy!”. Shobha again playfully slapped him on his cheeks.
This was when Bhola lost it.
There is only so much a full blooded male can take. Especially when a significant percentage of your blood is flowing into your favorite appendage. Here he was, patiently waiting in the queue for fucking the queen of his dreams. He had come so close, but hadn’t yet come and he wasn’t in a state of mind to appreciate the pun in that thought. First, he had to watch her do some silly catwalk. True, it was sexy as hell but he was forced to sit and clap his hands like it was some silly school play when all he wanted to do was to jump at the bhabhi doing the catwalk, rip her clothes apart and just fuck her right there on the silly catwalk in front of her snooty upper class husband. Then he had to wait with an aching hard-on and get teased while the husband and wife played some dumb statue game. Again, he had to hold himself back and be content with inspecting her in her bra and panties when he was badly itching to just rip her fancy under garments off and shove his cock in. As if that wasn’t enough, he had to twiddle his thumb and watch while the husband fucked his hot wife within sniffing distance of him, while had to sit and play audience and that too after he was the one who had warmed her up. And the last straw was now when he finally thought he was getting his turn, and his bhabhi was instead playing coy and giving him some lecture about why he shouldn’t shag on her. That that too after her husband made him come up with a premature vote of thanks for a romp that he hadn’t yet consummated.
He had his cock inside her pussy but the dame wasn’t letting him fuck her.
Instead here she was giving him a moral science lecture. What was this world coming to!
Bhola grabbed Shobha’s hands by the wrists, pinned them behind her back and began smooching her wildly. Turning on his full strength, he found he could use just one large left hand to pin both of Shobha’s wrists together in a pincer grip. Having freed his right hand, he grabbed her large breasts and squeezed them hard. One after the other. He then pinched her hard on the nipple.
Shobha wasn’t entirely caught off-guard. She had sensed the sexual frustration building up in his eyes, and the way his body was stiffening when she rocked back gently. He knew that the way she was using her vaginal muscles to clench and unclench his penis was causing him unease, and the buddha-like posture she was seated in with her legs wrapped around his thighs, he couldn’t exercise physical control over her.
Her wrists and breasts hurt, but beyond drawing in a sharp breath, she denied him the satisfaction of a shriek.
Instead, she leaned back away from Bhola, supported her upper body weight on her elbows on the bed, tightened the grip her legs had around Bhola’s buttocks and pushed her waist forward. Bhola’s cock was till then only half-buried in her pussy. This action caused her to take in the entire cock into her pussy. And she tightened her pussy muscles.
Her facial expression transformed from being a coy, teasing damsel to an angry, domineering bitch.
I wont let you fuck me! This is how I am going to fuck you! That’s what her face and body posture seemed to scream at her lover.
Instead of Shobha shrieking, it was Bhola who sucked in his breath sharply with the surprise at this unexpected counter attack.
Bhola wasn’t the one to give up so easily. Unable to wrest free from the way Shobha had pinned her powerful thighs around his waist, he subconsciously mirrored her posture. He too leaned back, let go of his hold on Shobha’s breasts and rested his upper body weight on his elbows behind his back. When he leaned back to rest on his elbows, his cock withdrew partially from Shobha’s pussy. Immediately, he rammed his lower body and pelvis against Shobha’s pelvis. That sudden sharp motion caused his cock to ram hard into Shobha’s pussy.
Both Shobha and Bhola moaned but neither wanting to give the other the satisfaction of audibly doing so.
And that’s how I am going to fuck you, memsahib! Bhola gritted his teeth and said this with his feisty look.
It was Shobha’s turn to repeat the move. With identical effect. After having absorbed Bhola’s hard thrust, she pulled back her waist and this caused her pussy to partially release its grip on his cock. Before he could do anything about it, she rammed back and his cock buried it’s full length back into her pussy.
Both Bhola and Shobha started dueling and duetting in a synchronized and animal like manner. This was pure passion and primal lust in motion. Neither wanted to yield sexual primacy to the other and each had an instinct to take the pole position. Yet in a base and equally primal manner, each knew that they could selfishly get sexual pleasure – and exert dominance – by overpowering the other with sexual delight. Where Chetan was striving to deliver ecstasy to Shobha by caressing and pleasuring her body selflessly, Shobha and Bhola were trying to establish dominance and extract pleasure for themselves by trying to sexually dominate the other’s body.
Chetan watched the sexual combat between two gladiators- each neither asking for quarter nor expecting it. What started as romantic rocking and genteel intertwining of limbs and torso between two lovers became old fashioned carnal humping.Both Shobha and Bhola now descended into undisguised animal-like fucking. Gone was the divine Khajuraho embrace.
This was now a naked virile man fucking an older and classier woman, as if there was no tomorrow.
This was also a bitch in the heat fucking her slave into submission.
Pure lust at its finest!
Shobha and Bhola began both mashing and grinding their waists against each other in an battle crazed manner as if there was no tomorrow. It wasn’t clear who was fucking whom, and that precisely was what was driving the carnal power packed encounter.
Each wanted to fuck the other.
And then finally, in a frenzied breathless and sweaty crescendo, both erupted into an orgasm at the same time. Bhola felt her Shobha’s body tighten, her eyes now rolled back, and her breathing became rushed and noisy. Even in that state, she refused to yield and dug her fingernails into his cheeks leaving angry red marks behind. He redoubled his humping, now tightening the grip he had over her, but his triumph was short-lived. Less than a minute later he too discharged, shooting copious cum into her pussy. Even in that moment of bliss, they did not let go of each other. Like gladiators locked in combat even in their final moments, Shobha rolled on top of Bhola, who pushed her over – and as an awestruck Chetan made room on the bed for the slithering lovers by sliding out of the way – Bhola pushed Shobha down and got on top of her. Only to be pushed down when she rolled over.
Finally, peace was restored as each ended their somersault by coming to a rest side by side, facing each other, legs intertwined around each other, their bodies covered in sweat and panting for breath.
Chetan watched the spectacle with fascination. After a few minutes of shuddering and squirming, once he realized that the last of Shobha’s waves of orgasms had subsided, he gently assisted in uncoupling her from the tight embrace from her lover. He lifted her from the lovers body, who now seemed equally spent and breathless, and lovingly helped her lie down next to him. Like an affectionate husband, he bushed her hair carefully off her face – it was sweaty and sticky, and carefully pulled a pillow under her hair.
Shobha, her eyes half-open and half swooning, reciprocated her husband’s tenderness with a look of intense gratitude.
No wife could have asked for more.
From her husband and from her servant.
Individually or together.
The lockdown had made them come together in more ways than one.
Definitely she had cum more than once.
BY : Ravi Shikha