This is the story of my beautiful wife – who is no less than a queen to me – and my life with her . We hail from an upper middle class family and have lived for most of our lives in the surrounding areas of Mumbai but not exactly in the city. It has helped us stay connected with the fast moving things in life but at the same time offered us solitude and privacy of the distance from the hustle bustle of a city life. We own a small business that has been doing reasonably well for past several decades, which now I have been managing for the past two decades.

Nishma, my wife is about forty-seven years old. My name is Adwait and I am five years elder to Nishma. We belong to a traditional Brahmin family – more specifically we belong to the Kokanastha caste, which is named after the coastal region of Konkan in Maharashtra, a state of India. It’s a fairly conservative community, in which inter caste marriages are still frowned upon but relationships between Brahmin castes are tolerated. Where we come from, it is still considered to be a social stigma and it was particularly so when we got married about 25 years ago. We recently celebrated our twenty-fifth marriage anniversary.

Women from this caste are incredibly beautiful. They are gifted with much fairer complexion and most actually have green or blue eyes. These characteristics make them look more caucasian than Indians. However, most have dark-brown or brown hair, which gives away their nationality. It is rumored often that the aboriginals mated with Portuguese and French people who arrived on the Konkan coast of India about five centuries back. There is no historical account of such things but it is not unreasonable to assume that some form of mixing must have happened due to which these traits were inherited or became more pronounced.

Nishma was no exception in this regard. Although she didn’t carry that specific genetic mutation, she was quintessential Indian beauty. Her big, dark eyes left a lasting impression on everyone she met. Her soft, blemishless skin with a sharp nose and beautiful features attracted men. Her pouty, pinkish red lips never failed to elicit a sexual groan from them. Her jet black, thick hair was so silky that even women envied her fortune. She never failed to capture interest of the people around her. Her complexion was perhaps a shade or two darker than the normal pale complexion that we believed to be the gold standard in our community. Yet, this only accentuated her beauty. It was quite common for my friends to be mesmerized by her beauty and they unabashedly congratulated me on my good fortune.

On the physical front, Nishma stood about 5′ 7″, a little above average for our times. Although, she isn’t very tall by current Indian standards, she was deemed to be so in our times. Due to her shapely, slender body, she was the favorite amongst the men, much to the dismay of the women, who rather chose to ignore her for her apparently darker complexion.

I wasn’t a perfect match for her in that regard as well; I was couple of inches shorter than her. It never bothered her but my insecurity always kept nagging at me. Nishma’s utterly feminine, slender body always captured the interest of men around her. Although, physically her body was quite slender, her breasts and butt were well developed for her age and built; no wonder the men folks were always captivated by her beauty. Over the years she had gone from being too frail to a little plump but has eventually settled into the perfect mold for past decade or so. She easily fits the MILF description today. She continues to attract attention of men even at this age; incidentally even the young lads are mesmerized by her beauty. Her bust size has increased over the years and so as her butt. She breastfed all our kids and hence her breasts have lost some elasticity but a supporting brassiere allows her to flaunt them. Her tummy only shows the scars of bearing many children but it doesn’t have an ounce of extra fat. She can fit into most of her clothes she wore during her twenties but most would struggle to contain her breasts and her butt.

On the dressing front, Nishma is conservatively dressed most of the time. She hasn’t worn pants for more than a decade. Nowadays she restricts herself to a Salwar-Kameez or a simple Saree. Both of them look splendid on her and usually highlight her beautiful features. She ties her hair in a braid most of the time. With Sarees, she chooses to tie her hair behind her head as most Indian women do.

Our’s was a traditionally arranged marriage. We both came from reasonably affluent families and it was commonly held belief to keep status on equal footing in such relationships. I was obviously smitten by her beauty. Little did I realize that she was also a sweet girl with a soft voice. Nishma didn’t take too long to make up her mind. A little bit of digging was in order. We learned that Nishma was little modern for our taste and had several friends who happened to be boys. I too had friends who were girls, so it didn’t strike odd but when the investigator chose to speak to me personally, I learned not everything was normal. I chose to hide it from my parents and made sure that he didn’t divulge the details to anyone else. Not wanting to nip this relationship in the bud, I took the initiative and broached up the subject with her. She looked relieved. We were alone but didn’t have adequate privacy and she hushed me and offered to talk about it at a more appropriate time.

We met alone a few days later without the knowledge of our parents.

“Thanks for not hesitating,” she started.

“It wasn’t my intention to hide it – but you know how parent’s are?”

“Your investigations may not have revealed many sinister things but let me be honest with you.”

“I am not a virgin anymore,” she added gathering some courage.

It wasn’t common those days for a woman to lose her virginity before marriage. And certainly, it wasn’t common for someone to confess in front of their prospective husband.

“You mean to say you were in love?”

I asked, “what happened?”

“Not quite,” she responded.

“I didn’t have any emotional attachment – it just happened.”

“Did someone take advantage of you?” I asked.

“Sort of,” she responded, “but it wouldn’t be right to blame them.”

“Them?”

“You see,” she said, tears welling in her eyes, “I am not comfortable talking about it.”

“Nishma,” I tried consoling her, “my apologies – my intention was only to learn the circumstances.”

“We often commit mistakes at an young age without realizing the far reaching consequences,” she added, remorsing over her past, but more importantly owning up her mistakes rather than simply blaming an outside influence.

“It’s all history now, I suppose,” I added tentatively. She nodded, trying to contain her tears.

“I like you,” she said holding my hand, “but I would understand if this were to change your mind.”

I thought for a few moments before saying, “it is certainly an unpleasant surprise – but I don’t want to take a hasty decision.”

“There’s is more,” she continued, trying to contain her emotions, “while I had no emotional attachment – there was plenty of sex.”

I nervously nodded, encouraging her to continue.

“There were five men with whom I have been intimate,” she added.

“Three were unmarried and perhaps a little elder to me. The other two were were married men in their thirties.”

“It was all over a period of four years – and it all ended about a year back.”

Nishma was twenty-two when we met. So, technically her relationships started when she was 17. The relationships may have started somewhere around her seventeenth birthday; not too early for her to be an immature person, I thought.

“It was sexual only with three of them,” she continued.

“The other two it was simply a little petting,” she clarified.

“You weren’t dating any of them were you?”

“No,” she said shaking her head, “It was purely based on sex.”

“The two were simply good friends and it just happened – may be couple of times each but nothing serious.”

“With the other three?”

“The last affair started about two years ago and it ended a year ago,” she answered.

“The other two were before this?”

“Yes. They began earlier,” she answered.

“When did those end?”

“About a year ago,” she replied.

That was surprising.

“You had three affairs at the same time?” I blurted. She remained silent; still trying to contain her sobbing. It was apparent that she wasn’t happy about it but she didn’t wanted to hide it either. As much as I liked her, her honest confession was a bitter pill for me to swallow. In retrospect, it was just my pride that wouldn’t allow to accept a defiled woman. However, I knew how aroused I was after I heard her confession. She was having an affair with three men for a period of three years and other two that were due to momentary lapses during this period.

“The first two – they were married. Did they have children?” I asked.

She tried to steady her voice before answering, “Yes, they both had daughters, one of them was a few years younger to me and another was about ten or so at the time it started.”

We went over some more details but essentially. The person who took her virginity was almost twenty years elder to her and the second was only a few years younger to him. Her second affair started soon after – within couple of months of the first one. She also admitted that it was fairly active during the early stages – about once a week with each lover but the frequency dropped progressively to as little as once a month.

Without a doubt by the time I headed back from my meeting with her, I already knew that our relationship had reached a dead end. I was surely aroused as hell just realizing the promiscuous lifestyle she lead for almost four years. It seemed that she was not only beautiful but also incredibly hot. My mind couldn’t come to terms with simply saying no to her. Rational person as I was, I understood the foremost concern I had was the stigma it carried and what it would mean to be a husband of such a woman. If my parents were to learn it they would have summarily rejected the proposal. I had already met several girls but none appealed to me as much as she did. And even after her confession, I couldn’t convince myself to forget about her.

We let things settle. After about 2 or 3 weeks later, our parents surprised both of us by announcing our impromptu engagement. Nishma knew about it a week earlier and apparently tried to reach me but she couldn’t. So, there I was with a ring in my hand in front of her and our entire family. Our parents knew each other for several years and hence they didn’t feel any need to delay it further. Nishma gave me a nervous smile as I slid the ring on her finger. She did the same equally nervously.

After the festivities were done, when we had a moment of solitude.

Nishma said, “I tried to contact you to warn about this but you weren’t traceable.”

“Sorry, I was out for a few days,” I responded.

“Don’t worry,” she responded.

“I will figure out something to break it later,” she said looking into my eyes, and after a brief pause added, “i.e. if you want it.”

“Nishma thank you for your kind consideration,” I responded with a little hint of irritation.

“Really. I mean it,” she assured.

We tried to ignore each other for the rest of the evening. I definitely was aroused around her as she was unbelievably gorgeous and I just couldn’t convince myself that she was capable of the things she shared with me.

Our marriage was slated three months after our engagement. I thought that provided ample time for us to figure out a way to end it. Although, we weren’t too keen to meet each other, our families made it a point to arrange dates for us on a regular basis. Strangely, instead of talking about our impending doom, we just spent time with each other. It didn’t take long for me to realize that she was indeed a nice person and someone with whom I wouldn’t have trouble leading my life. Now, the only question was whether I was willing to swallow my pride. She too liked me very much and it just didn’t seem worth looking into her past.

On the other hand, the dark-side of me had gravitated towards her much before. She was gorgeous and my sexual attraction to her was understandable but I knew that it had intensified into an obsession; primarily because of her promiscuous past.

Just like most privileged kids, I too had access to means of sexual gratification pretty early on. However, in my righteous mind, having sex with a prostitute just didn’t gel. I would always envisage of situations where a woman – usually it would be a married woman – who would transgress to mate with another man. Quite often the man would be me and usually the woman would be an acquaintance. Fortunately my privileged status allowed me access to local smut that was not easily available to kids of my age. Since the very beginning, only the stories of such illicit copulation excited me. In my fantasies it would always be me fornicating with the wife of imbecile husband behind his back. This appeased my appetite for a little while but then my yearning for excitement increased. Around that time I noticed that there were stories where the husband was aware of his wife’s affair and even encouraged her subtly. He would sometimes secretly watch his wife mate with the other man or even try to set up his wife for such possibilities. Those stories stuck in my mind and I found myself gravitating to the role of the husband rather than the wife’s lover. Unfortunately, those stories were few and far in the local smut available. Soon, I found myself fixated on such stories and would incessantly look for stories with such themes. The ones that fit that description made it into my treasure trove.

Nishma’s own admission of her past had perhaps fuelled my imagination and strangely I envisioned her mating with her past lovers even after she was married to me. It wasn’t as if I preferred her to have sex with others only but my principal fantasies revolved around that theme. The fact that she was physically so attractive made the fantasy compelling.

Let me share a few things about her demeanor that perhaps encouraged my views. We grew up during conservative times and much before the advent of television and internet. It was uncommon for women of our times to wear jeans and trousers and yet Nishma wore them on a regular basis. Although, she wasn’t skimpily dressed ever; she was provocatively dressed most of the time. It was a mixture of her attire – that was uncommon for women – and her voluptuous body that tantalizingly was exposed to men in the tight fitting clothing. Even more important was her high heels that she wore most of the time. She towered over most men of our times even without those and that naturally gave her sense of superiority over them. Yet, she was a sweet person and didn’t mind interacting or helping men, often disregarding their lecherous glances.

Our marriage was pushed out by another two months due to various reasons and so that offered us even more time to understand each other. By now, Nishma had realized that I wasn’t planning on ending our relationship. Things started to change after that and quite unexpectedly we got physical for the first time in a very crowded place.

We were in a long queue to offer our prayers in a prominent temple. The queues were quite long and often one would wait for hours at stretch in the wee hours to get a glimpse of the statue. We had been standing in the queue for several hours and reached much inside the temple where it was dark and dimly lit by meagerly powered incandescent bulbs. We were getting worked up as our bodies were rubbing against each other. We stopped pretending that it wasn’t bothering us. The hot humid weather was exhausting and the tightly enclosed narrow lanes didn’t make it any better. On that day she was wearing a dark colored, cotton, sleeveless Salwar Khameez that adorned her fair complexion. Usually, she chose to wear very tight dresses but this one was a little on the loose side – it was more on the pathani style than the traditional style.

We both accepted the state of affairs to be normal and Nishma let me embrace her from behind. It was the first time she let me hold her by her waist. I couldn’t feel her naked waist but that didn’t stop me from having a stiff erection. To my dismay, although she gave me ample opportunity to wedge my bulge into her crack from behind, I could barely reach her height. Even without her heels, she was quite taller than me, enough to make it difficult to take her from behind without her cooperation. After realizing that it may not be as effective, she guided my hand to her breast. My hands shivered as I try to get hold of her breast. She was much better equipped and despite my best effort, I could hardly cover her breast with my hand. Nishma tolerated my imbecile moves and let me explore her body. Our amours foreplay went on for quite a while and then we entered a section that was quite dark. As my pelvis lurched forward in an attempt to impale her, she balanced herself and subtly buckled her knees to provide a much better angle. It was a humiliating moment for me. I realized how much shorter I was; although I believed she was taller by an inch or so until then, I soon learned that I was at least three inches shorter, if not more.

The warmth of her body felt incredible; my pelvis perfectly lined up against her crack and that’s when I realized that her hips were much wider than mine. It wasn’t as if she was fat and I could recollect vividly how well proportioned she looked in all kinds of attire. I later learned that it was her height and large frame that made things look normal but clearly she was a sizeable woman than what I imagined her to be. She leaned back against me and offered her lips to kiss. Her breath was a little stale but understandable given the circumstances. She was a terrific kisser and it was apparent that she was way more experienced. We weren’t afraid of getting caught in the dark alley that we had entered. However, I noticed some movement behind me and it seemed there was man, perhaps in his thirties as I recalled from seeing him earlier, who was intently watching both of us. I tried to alert Nishma but she had other ideas as her hands crept to my bulge. She fondled it delicately as her tongue danced in tune with mine. Between this amorous foreplay, I noticed that the stranger took a bold step by moving his hand to her left breast. I tried to push it away but he was persistent. Realizing this, Nishma broke the kiss. It took a few moments for her to realize that the hand that was fondling her boobs was not mine.

She turned around and started kissing me. Once again I realized how tall she was as she practically took me into her arms and planted her lips on mine. Her kiss was passionate and intense and now the stranger moved his hand to her butt. Despite my valiant attempts his hand had crept into her butttline. As I struggled to fight his invasion, Nishma broke the kiss and fell into my arms. It just seemed as she was enjoying and perhaps she was but when she whispered into my ears.

“Don’t make a scene,” she whispered and pushed my hand away from his.

“If we just let him play, he won’t let anyone know that he caught us in the act.”

“Are you crazy?” I seethed.

“He is taking advantage of you right in front of him.”

“Try stopping him then,” she retorted.

Just when I thought I had mustered the courage to stop him, I heard the man whisper into my other ear, “your girl likes it; don’t be a spoil sport.”

“If you make a scene, I will cut your prick,” he said as a sharp object poked into my stomach. It was the first time I was dealing with a goon and my whole body shivered. Nishma sensed it and said, “It will be alright; nothing much he can do once we get out this dark hallway.”

Her reasoning made sense but the circumstances were simply too scary for me to stomach. I was petrified at that moment. The stranger took our silence as a sign of compliance and started taking advantage of Nishma. He didn’t seem to be in a hurry as his hand caressed her body. My mind tried to recollect how he looked. He was probably very dark as was usual for most folks in that area; mostly a single guy and perhaps older than both of us. He was perhaps as tall as I was or even shorter. As these images drifted through my mind, I realized that my penis that had shrunk was now inflating back to its original proportions. I learned about my dark side that harbored thoughts of having his girlfriend serviced by another man. It was perhaps a clear indication about what I truly desired even though I found it hard to admit.

Nishma was getting fidgety and I realized that the cheap thug had his hand inside her Salwar. The situation was awkward for both of us. We were trapped in a dark hallway; leaning on one side of the railing. The thug had carefully wedged himself into the space between us and the railing. On the other some elderly women were standing facing away from us.

“What’s he doing?” I whispered into her ear. We were speaking in a different language and hence I wasn’t worried of him overhearing us.

Between her ragged breaths, she answered, “poking the wrong hole.”

Nishma leaned against me; her breasts crushed into my chest and her parted lips hovered on my nose. She moved her left hand to my butt and massaged/squeezed it, periodically pulling me into her. Her rest other hand rested on my shoulder. I supported her with my hands on her waist. The thug stood on my left side, more sideways now. From the perspective of the folks, in front and on the other side of us he was quite shielded.

Nishma separated her upper body from me. The thug snaked his hand between our bodies and massaged her breasts. She was in a delirious state; her breath blowing right on my nose had intoxicated me already. Despite the utterly humiliating situation, my sexual excitement helped me enjoy every moment of it. I felt his hand feel her sizeable breasts. Nishma was enjoying his mauling, even though she had tried to separate her upper body, she leaned forward on my shoulder and whispered into my other ear, “he is pushing all the right buttons.”

And then I felt Nishma lurch forward suddenly; it felt as if she was trying to hump me. She hugged me as if she was begging for her dear life but her labored breathing on my earlobe narrated an entirely different story. The thug had moved his hand back to her ass and this time it just seemed as if she was feeling discomfort due to his ministrations. I tried to evade his hands for a few moments. It only annoyed him as he tried to take what he felt was his right.

“You are not going to win it…” she seethed.

“We should focus on minimizing our losses,” she added. I didn’t quite understand how to do that but she slowly guided my hand back to her waist. I noticed that Nishma had lowered her stance and it was mostly because she spread her legs to provide better access to her butt. It annoyed me and I immediately try to fend off his vulgar attack. Nishma took her next step fearing an escalated situation. To me it was her willingness to engage in such a perverse act in front of her fiance, only reinforcing the truth about her past. She shifted her weight and moved to my other shoulder, stopping briefly, offering a peck on my lips and whispered, “I love you.”

Even though she leaned towards my left to face him, I held onto as dearly as I could, trying desperately to keep my pelvis glued to hers. It reminded me of those ungainly sights we as children were subjected to in India – the mating of street dogs.

Growing up we really didn’t need much of sexual education as we witnessed a lot of animals mate openly on the streets or on the countryside. And perhaps this is where some of my earlier fantasies stemmed from. Dogs were special; they were everywhere and more importantly they didn’t shy away when indulging in such acts.

While none knew I always watched them intently especially when I noticed males showing special interest in a female. I had no exposure to books on mating behavior back, so most of my knowledge was gained only by observing their behavior in real life.

The bitch when in heat was the most sort after and even more so by the juvenile males, who are eager to lose their virginity and leave their mark in the world. An experienced bitch entertained the dominant alpha male and mated with the juvenile males as their last resort. Due to lack of a total pack structure among these street dogs, interesting developments would happen if one of the juveniles or beta males was able to mate with the female. It would end up in injured beta male and a very annoyed female. The alpha male having subjugated the beta would want to mount the female, which only drove her mad and she would usually lash back at him. On a few occasions I did notice that the female would allow the alpha to mate with her in less than an hour. Usually once the alpha male takes interest in her he ends up ensuring that she only mates with him, unless there were other opportunities for him.

The experienced females in their prime sometimes courted some of the juveniles who had the potential to take the role of alpha. There was one instance where a female pursued a male who was not even physically ready to mate. She kept on licking genitals and offered him plenty of chances but he was unable to mate. Eventually, the local alpha inseminated her. It was so interesting to me that I kept a close watch on this couple and I noticed the juvenile male eventually showed his readiness when the females puppies were five or six months old. Although she wasn’t ready yet, she played with him and sniffed and licked his genitals just the way she did it last time. He claimed her as his bitch within couple of months after that. She exclusively mated with him and the previous alpha was driven away. He was an exceptionally large male, modeled more after a mastiff than the street dog, so it was evident why the female chose him over other males.

On occasions, such females would run into an interesting quandary, where couple of juveniles would push their luck and she would fancy them for some reason. The first to tie her would win – at least for the moment – until the second one try in vain to mount her while she is tied. The second having lost his first chance would incessantly court her until she yields to him. This cycle continues she is disapproves of both of them. I had witnessed at least one instance where the female endured more than a dozen or so sessions with the males within two days.

I was imagining a very similar episode between the three of us. In this case, although I had gained the lead, the female was favoring the other one. She rested her head on my shoulder and for a moment it just looked as if that would be it but then I felt that the thug was fondling her face. I turned towards them and was stunned to see that Nishma was actually kissing him. I could even smell his bad body odor now that he was so close to me. Nishma snaked her other hand down and cupped my bulge. It was quite dark and I was struggling to see what they were doing and even though I didn’t want to believe it, I realized that she was french kissing the thug. It was a bridge too far for me. In those days french kissing was not that common and Nishma was indulging a complete stranger. I noticed that her other hand was either massaging his bulge or stroking his cock.

She leaned more towards him pretty soon as I struggled to keep my pelvis glued to hers. I noticed that she was making it increasingly difficult for me and I reluctantly let her step out of that position. She swiftly pushed her hand into my pajamas that was part of traditional attire and convenient for such activities. She had moved into his arms or rather took him into her arms as he was perhaps a little shorter than me as well. I was a little worried about getting caught as Manisha was getting fidgety. I took a step back and allowed the thug and Manisha more space and privacy.

Nishma leaned towards me and whispered, “use the shawl to shield us.” We were carrying a warm shawl but it was in the bag. I hurriedly pulled it out and covered myself providing shelter to the two lovers who seemed to have completely ignored their surroundings. The guy was pitch dark and even in that darkness I could see Nishma’s fair complexion contrasting his. Nishma completely ignored me and for the next perilous few minutes she pleasured him as if it was her moral duty to do so. Nishma didn’t take long and had a quick chat with him and turned around leaning on me but offering him her ass.

She whispered breathlessly, “don’t worry this should end soon – he would only grind his pelvis against my butt to get relieved.” She lowered her butt in order to provide better access and then I sensed his rhythmic strokes. She was gently stroking his penis lodged between her legs. Nishma initially tried to focus on experiencing the humping but very soon started kissing me passionately. I was so worked that it didn’t matter that she was kissing the thug only minutes ago. Breaking the kiss, I asked in a concerned tone, “is it safe?”

“Don’t worry – I am not allowing him to penetrate me.”

We were expecting him to ejaculate within minutes but he didn’t seem to be on the edge. On the other side, we were kissing and making out frantically as the friction he provided was working like a charm for Nishma.

“Should I hasten it?” she quipped. I wasn’t sure what she was implying but without waiting for a response, she turned around and offered him a kiss and then to my utter disbelief I found her kneeling down to fellate him. I was not only stunned but utterly humiliated by her sudden gesture. That cheap bastard was using my fiance’s mouth as a cunt and was humping it. Nishma took only a minute or so and returned to her earlier position. She did not hesitate in latching to my lips again. All of it was surreal for me. There was a little bit of shuffling while we kissed and soon his rhythmic strokes began. Not having the support of the hole, he couldn’t really frantically hump her so it was a rather deliberate pattern of moving back and forth. With every forward movement, Nishma would transfer more of her weight, conveying his rhythmic movements. It took perhaps another couple of minutes to ejaculate. I wondered if his semen splattered on her Salwar but thought that she would cognizant of it and avoid it.

She turned around and bid him goodbye and as a gentleman he promptly retreated and even moved back in the queue providing us our privacy.

“What have you done?” I whispered to her.

“What was required?” she replied.

“You took his penis in your mouth.”

“So, it is part of sex,” she justified.

I was speechless. She rearranged her clothing and kissed on my lips and whispered, “I love you.”

We kept quiet most of time. It was easier to do so in that dark alley but at other places where we would see each other in the faint light, it was difficult. Nishma didn’t have any remorse on her face and neither was she embarrassed. My mind raced through all that transpired in the short span of 15 minutes or so. My perversions took a strong hold of me and forced me to imagine her with her past lovers. If she could show such passion for a cheap thug what would she do for her past lovers. I imagined what it would have been if he insisted on penetrating her. Would he not try to cum inside her and perhaps impregnate her? Although, she said it was safe, did she really mean safe from the point-of-view of pregnancy or diseases? Not much was known about sexually-transmitted-disease during that time. Much of such knowledge started spreading a decade after that with the advent of internet and rapid expansion of TV. The more I imagined the more stronger the fantasy became and I craved for her to see impaled on his cock. Even though I had no idea about his size, I imagined him to be much bigger than me both in length and girth. I yearn to be a cuckold. The simple thought of me taking the vows at the marriage ceremony with his baby in her stomach made me shudder.

All through Nishma had a mischievous smile on her face as she lovingly glanced at me and blew kisses through the rest of the way. We were out of the temple in few hours and my heart was beating wildly as we stepped out. I looked for him but I hadn’t even seen him so didn’t know how to identify him. But he was nowhere to be found and neither could we even if had walked right past us.

“Why are you worried?” she asked looking at my harried state.

“Did he notice who you were?”

“Perhaps,” she quipped, looking around.

“Did you see him?”

She shook her head. Holding my hand she lead me, whispering, “don’t worry he won’t bother us anymore.”

We made way back to the hotel without much further discussions. Once safely inside, she asked, “are you upset?”

I didn’t respond as the sweat on forehead clearly conveyed my state.

“You seem to be having a nervous breakdown.”

“Please don’t be mad at me,” she pleaded, “I did what seemed right and even though you may think I may have gone overboard from my experience anything less would not have appeased him.”

“Why don’t you sit down?” she urged and fetched a glass of water for me.

“Relax,” she said, scooting next to me, “I am not going to judge you based on what happened.”

She rested her hand on my chest to feel my heartbeat. She rightly understood that I was stressed by the situation. It was the first time I was facing Nishma in solitude and I wondered if she thought about me as a spineless man.

“You may be doubting my manliness…” I said. My lips quivered as each word weighed heavily on my tongue.

“Sh….” she silenced me and hugged me.

“I would never do that,” she assured.

“What matters is that we love each other and are not afraid to expose our not-so-good-side to each other.”

“It is only possible if we trust each other and have complete faith in our relationship.”

“Still didn’t you expect me to put up a fight?” I weakly replied.

“No…” she tried to console, still hugging me.

“It wouldn’t have been prudent; perhaps we should not have indulged in such risky behavior at a public place.”

“Once we were down the slippery slope it was not possible to preach him.”

“He would have either taken me forcefully or publicly humiliated us.”

“Didn’t he do that already?”

“No way – what happened was private; besides he didn’t really penetrate me – I think that was a fair deal.”

“You seem so be calm and composed,” I said, feeling the shame.

“It’s only my experience – I don’t see it as an insult to myself and neither should you. If at all, it helped us getting introduced to our kinkier sides.”

“Don’t you think?” she asked, looking at me.

“You look embarrassed,” she added and quickly got up to pull all the curtains and even closed the bathroom door to make it dark and similar to what it was in the temple. It wasn’t quite dark but definitely helped me feel comfortable discussing such topic with her.

“Are you okay now,” she asked as she sat next to me. She turned towards me and dropped her hand into my lap as she leaned into kiss me on my cheek. I tentatively leaned back as my shameful feelings hadn’t completely abated.

“Are you still mad at me?” she asked

“No.”

“Then why are you hesitating?” Her hand gently cupped my bulge; I realized that even though I was ashamed about it my body was hyperactive.

“It is fine,” she understood as I cringed with this realization.

“All you have to do is make love,” she whispered leaning forward. Her lips few inches from mine.

“Let your wife know that you still love her – even after her promiscuous behavior,” she quipped. Her hand was getting more active. Even though I hadn’t fully recovered from my emotional state, my hormones made up my choice. Nishma’s lips tantalizingly brushed against mine. She was the aggressor as she slowly melted my resolve and coerced me into kissing her back. I soon pushed her back on the bed and voraciously swapped saliva with her. She welcomed my kiss and pulled out my penis in no time.

“Do you still love me?” she asked breaking the kiss. My penis was straining inside her firm grip. I didn’t reply and continued kissing her. After frantically kissing for the longest time; much longer than even that cheap thug kissed her. In my mind, I was competing with that cheap bastard. Even though I didn’t have much experience with kissing, I kissed her for well over five minutes. Nishma reckoned it was ten minutes. The next logical step was to get on top of her but Nishma had other ideas.

“Do you know how to pleasure a lady?” she asked. I froze for a moment and she got up and quickly got rid of her Salwar and panties. My heart was wildly beating as I felt that she would let me mount her just the way she allowed him with the exception of actual penetration.

“Move back,” she said and straddled my waist. My naked penis made contact with her skin. She adjusted it to be wedged between her pussy lips and ass cheeks. Her hand caressed it from behind.

“Are you ready?” she asked. I nodded.

She played with the tip of my penis for a few moments and then pulled forward onto my stomach and then finally onto my chest. A very strong musky odor hit me as she finally made it to just around my neck. I thought it was her unwashed anus that was stinking but I wasn’t quite experienced then to discern between the various smells. It smelled different.

“You know what to do?” she said as she finally lifted herself and placed it right on top of my lips. The stench became very strong and although it wasn’t disgusting, it was different. She gently raised my head to her pussy lips and I tasted her juices for the first time. She was soaking wet and her juices practically drooled into my mouth. Her pussy didn’t taste salty as I had imagined, if at all it was mildly bitter. After lapping up her juices for a minute or so my apprehensions went away and I started enjoying the taste of her pussy. Strangely it no longer felt bitter. After a few minutes or so, I asked, “shall we change positions?”

She smiled looking down at me.

“Why don’t you suck it more?” she urged. I realized that she wanted to climax on my tongue. Without much encouragement I kept on lapping her pussy for the next ten minutes until she groaned with intense pleasure.

Amidst all the excitement and my insecurities I realized that Nishma’s pussy was quite small and not as flared up as I expected it to be after learning of her past indiscretions. I held my relief in suspension as I expected to finally mount my would-be wife and test it out first hand. She sat next to me catching her breath.

“That was fantastic,” she exhaled.

“Now your turn,” she said and tugged on me. I didn’t quite understand so sat up. She whispered, “you know that we can’t really do that yet – need to reserve the best until after marriage.”

She straddled me from behind and hugged me lovingly and kissed on my neck. Once again I felt overpowered by her size. Although she wasn’t really plump or even stocky; her frame was large enough to easily envelope me from behind.

“Now I really want to hear from you,” she whispered into my ear, “how much you liked the temple episode.”

Her hand got hold of my penis and she started stroking it. She sucked onto my neck. I noticed that she was trying something funny and asked, “what are you doing?”

“You shall see,” she replied.

“You have to talk,” she urged, “otherwise we may be sitting here for hours…”

“I am serious – I won’t let this have any relief,” she added emphatically pointing to my penis.

“Go on,” she urged, “even though it doesn’t seem appropriate I know that you enjoyed it.”

“There is no need for us to hide such things…”

As I weighed my options, she moved back to grab something and then moved back. I noticed her hand caressing my butt from behind. Within a few moments her middle finger sneaked into my crack and poked my anal opening.

“It’s okay…” she seethed as she hugged me again and got hold of my penis again.

“You should like it,” she whispered, gently nibbling on my earlobe. Her other hand now was massaging my testicles as the hand behind gently massaged my anus. I had seen this in some movies but didn’t think anyone would indulge in it until they were sure about its hygienic state. She continued kissing my neck in that funny way but this time at a different location.

“Don’t think, I will allow your silence,” she quipped. Her gentle massaging was feeling so pleasant that for a few moments I even lost track of what she had asked. When she pushed me again, I asked, “What do you want to know?”

“For first, did you ever fantasize about me making out with someone else?”

“Uh,” I groaned as her finger tried to make in. I tried to hold her hand but she pushed it aside saying, “don’t worry.. I know what I am doing.”

“Yes,” I groaned as she finally barged her middle finger in past the sphincter muscles only to pull it back out again.

“Was it really me or some other woman?” she sensually posed, kissing me on my cheek and trying to reach my lips. Her finger tried to probe deeper once again; there was much less resistance this time.

“You,” I exhaled as her actions were edging me closer to my orgasm. She still only massaged my testicles and didn’t really touch my penis but it was already jerking involuntarily.

“Did you imagine a threesome or just some action between the two of us?”

“Just the two of you,” I quipped.

“Who would be the guy in your fantasies?” she asked.

“Someone imaginary or …”

I wondered about it and strangely it was a rather rhetorical question. For me it was always someone I knew that would be manhandling my woman; never an imaginary person. Even if the person was imaginary he would resemble someone I wished was the person. Nishma pulled my face and kissed me languidly. Her tongue sensuously massaged mine; her hand after giving a few strokes to my penis moved to testicles again. And this time she inserted her middle finger into my anus and it was in perhaps up to the first knuckle.

“Tell me Adwait – don’t hesitate,” she whispered.

“They are usually someone I know,” I groaned, containing the pain her finger was causing me.

Immediately, my mind rummaged through the profiles of the people I imagined making out with my women. At first I thought these were simply the things that I borrowed from the stories I read but later realized that the ones that fit the images in my mind always stood out. While the stories always had young, handsome, and charming characters seducing the women, I always clung to the most undeserving men who got their unfair share of women. Quite often in these stories they were perhaps literally undeserving as they neither had the charm nor the guile and definitely not the physique to enamor a woman of Nishma’s stature. Yet these were the same characters who would win the hearts of such women in my fantasies. They still didn’t have the physiques but were gifted in where it mattered – the copulating equipment. Most were middle aged and yet retained their youthful vigor and fertility – both of which were important as procreation was one of the main reasons they courted other men’s, pretty wives in my fantasies.

“Don’t know Nishma,” I mustered.

“Oh come on,” she urged with a childish sense of excitement.

“Is it someone near and dear?”

“A friend – member of family?”

“There are several,” I retorted.

“Tell me the one who gets to sleep with me the most.”

She once again stroked my penis a few time to perhaps encourage me and her finger made it much deeper; perhaps until her second knuckle. She started doing something that was sending pleasant sensations from inside. It was the first time I felt those sensations.

“A near and dear one?”

“No,” I quickly replied.

“Thank god,” she quipped.

“Come on honey – it won’t take much long,” she said hinting towards my impending ejaculation.

I strained more to think about the one person who would usually fuck my Nishma in my dreams. Even before Nishma I had imagined him to be taking the girls I fell in love with or fantasized about. It didn’t become evident in flagrant terms until then. The person I always imagined was an obnoxious sloth, constantly leching at women and perhaps utterly unworthy of any female companionship as evidenced by all the ordinary women who despised him and rejected every courtship attempts of his. Yet some young, inexperienced, but pretty women would not summarily reject him. More often than not he would get a rather unfair share of her company even though quite a few young men and lads would be vying for her attention. Now I wouldn’t say that they would eventually yield to his advances but the very fact that he could even push them to that edge made me wonder what would have happened if he indeed was successful in seducing them. These were not unmarried women; they would be married to good looking husbands. This was the profile of the person who would bed my Nishma the most in my fantasies. There were others who would get a handful of opportunities but she would always return to him as her steady lover. And steady lover it was in my mind. It was not to be the case of an unfortunate accident that she shuddered to remember but rather an accident that she wished had happened much earlier.

The closest person who came to that description was an overbearing uncle of mine. He was husband of my father’s cousin sister. Not sure what it was about me but it seemed he always detested me and had exercised a lot of dominance over me during my childhood days. However, he perhaps took on that role once I grew up a little and started understanding the dynamics. Even my aunt would discount him but some of the younger women married into our families but not directly related to him were enamored by him. In particular, my cousin brother’s wife who was elder to me by 8-10 years offered him the most solace. Unfortunately, I wasn’t around their home enough to notice their chemistry but every passing festival I noticed her warm up to him.This became more apparent after the first or second year of her marriage; early on she kept her distance.

“It is a distant uncle of mine,” I reluctantly responded.

She whistled.

“How old is he?”

“Forty five or so.”

“And looks wise?”

“Not good,” I whispered.

“What do you imagine him doing honey?” she asked seductively.

“Takes me forcefully or you hand me to him?”

“He pursues you,” I said.

“Nice. And I eventually yield.”

“Do you know? Or it’s all behind your back?”

“I know it.”

“You set it up?”

“No I try to interfere early on but he is persistent and charms you.”

“Interesting..”

“Who is next?”

“Others but he is always in the picture.”

“You mean to say he is a permanent fixture?”

“And perhaps the most important.”

“Very nice…” she seethed.

“Where do we meet?”

“How frequently?”

“In our house – as much as possible.”

“Does he know that you know?”

“Not really but he suspects.”

Nishma was surprised by my weird fantasy. She expected some naughty stuff but nothing of this sort. We later on talked about at length.

“And what else?”

“What else?”

“Who else knows?”

“No one but one or two innocuous relatives suspect.”

“Sounds a little lame isn’t it?” she finally said disdainfully.

“Why?”

“A man is his late forties not even good looking have a life long affair with a young, beautiful, married woman.”

“But he pleasures you very much,” I reasoned.

“Much more than my husband I believe,” she chimed.

“Much much more,” I exhaled as her finger finally was massaging the right spot.

“He is a push aside I suppose,” she added with a twist.

“Perhaps taking your wife even in your bedroom, even when you are at home?”

“Maybe.”

“He certainly is not using any protection,” she added tantalizingly.

“Never.”

My penis sputtered with white liquid. She looked at it approvingly and gave me a loud smooch.

“Isn’t that amazing?” she said proudly. She had hardly touched my penis and I had ejaculated with almost no help from her. She handed me a towel and asked, “So honey what’s the deal with this uncle of yours?”

“Do you seriously have such visions?”

I nodded shamefully.

“Come on Adwait – it is fine. Let’s talk like adults.”

“You should introduce me to him soon and maybe I can encourage him to pursue me.”

“Come on Nishma – it was just a fantasy.”

“It is – I am not suggesting anything more. We can talk dirty later,” she added giggling.

We let the matter at rest. Nishma headed to her room after that and didn’t show up until much later in the evening as per the agreement we had. Both of us were tired. Nishma’s persistence had finally etched that image of my uncle mating with her. No matter how hard I tried it wouldn’t got away. I really didn’t think he had any vigor left in him after all the years but that didn’t dissuade me anymore.

We had a sumptuous early dinner that evening. Nishma’s constant chatter went on and eventually the topic turned back to sex again. Her focus was more on my fantasy and my choice of person to fulfill it. She peeled layers after layer to understand my intense desire for it. Why it wasn’t a gang-bang, a string of random guys, accidental setups? Why it had to be a very small set of specific people? Why they would take on the primary role in our sexual realm and why they may even impregnate her several times. She was very smart and a great listener. She didn’t perhaps grasp everything but had a clear understanding about the intensity of my yearning.

“So, if I ever to encourage your uncle – it would open your old wounds,” she asked tantalizingly. We were still at the restaurant and discussing freely in our native language without any fear of being understood.

“But also give a lot of fodder for your fantasies.”

I nervously chuckled.

“Although I haven’t met him I shall certainly try to not disappoint you.”

“Nishma don’t,” I objected.

“Adwait, I have to be nice to your relatives and so I would be with him as well.”

“If he deserves to be the man in your fantasies then I have to do nothing,” she reasoned.

“Nishma I find it rather surprising that you don’think it is odd for me to harbor such thoughts.”

“Adwait it is completely normal,” she assured me.

“A man who puts his wife on a pedestal and only dreams of providing the best doesn’t stop at anything.”

“And why should he?”

“He trusts his wife and believes she would never think unwise of him and if she has the capability to endure or perhaps entertain more than one man in her bedroom then why not?”

“He imagines the best man – even if he thinks him of undeserving of her in worldly terms – in terms of his ability to pleasure her and more importantly inseminate her.”

“And when one is not sufficient he allows for another one and perhaps another – more potent, more able.”

“Adwait women do have this ability,” she said emphatically.

She went on to describe some of the things she learned as a biology major. Although not much about mating was taught there were plenty of books in the library that described a lot of things in excruciating detail. Certain things that I hardly knew she knew it like the back of her hand. She understood the mating behavior of lions, wolves, and hens. She explained how in the case of lions, the lioness may sometime court attention of males by licking their genitals. The sheer number of mating sessions – about 40-50 stupefied me. And the willingness of a pregnant lion to mate with a new pride owner to protect her unborn litter also surprised me.

“Our discussion turned to whether she herself would be receptive if men approached her.”

Nishma shook her head but confessed that there was nothing amoral as long as we had mutual understanding. Keeping it a closely guarded secret was her primary concern. She worried about my Uncle not able to contain his excitement and blurting about his sexual conquest. She considered the temple opportunity as there was little fear of dealing with societal repercussions and perhaps it was even prompted by my willingness.

Our discussion continued till late in the night but we decided that it would be prudent to not engage in any more sexual activity. Jokingly, she suggested that I better introduce her to this uncle so that she could make him understand what was at stake. Upon asking the reason, she blurted, “you really don’t think he has many years ahead, right?”

“The sooner he understands his chances the sooner he gets back in shape.”

“You surely wouldn’t consider starting a family without giving him a fair chance.”

That night a lot of dreams floated through my mind. They were only about the dominant male members of my family trying to take my place in bed with Nishma.

In the morning, I noticed my neck was covered by a few reddish spots; these were the spots that Nishma was sucking on yesterday. Later I learned that they were hickies and were used to sometimes mark their mates. It would remind onlookers about how privileged or lucky the person receiving it was and how sexually charged was his or her night.

We headed back after having our breakfast. Although not a private setting, the train compartment allowed us to continue our conversation. As our discussions progressed, the focus shifted to her lovers. Was blackmailing a real possibility? Did she even consider reigniting her affair in light of recent findings.

Blackmail was out of the question. Affairs were a possibility but she wasn’t keen; what sparked her interest were the men in my life. The only two were my father and my uncle – my cousin brother had been away for past several years. Only Uncle remained as a potential mate from her perspective. His description and my troubled relationship made it appealing for her; although she didn’t say it that explicitly. She didn’t discount someone outside our relationship but the criteria would be have quite different. There was a familiar twinkle in her eyes as if she knew who she was talking about.

Our discussions only stopped after we felt that it was getting too risky in the train. Nishma and I became comfortable about discussing these ideas. We didn’t meet as much, the next two weeks, but talked over the phone. It was difficult to find solitude in those days as these were landlines and Nishma herself didn’t feel as comfortable discussing such things over the phone.