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Hindu Wife Degradation – Sex Stories

Hindu Wife Degradation – Sex Stories

The long awaited day had arrived—Kayalvizhi’s wedding. Her parents were incredibly relieved. She was the black sheep of the family, as her grades had always been poor. Her family had money, but unfortunately for her, their Tamil Brahmin community valued education more than wealth. She had failed out of school, and though her parents told people she was getting a degree online, they had secretly sought a groom for her. Her relatives commented that it was lucky she was at least beautiful. Unlike most of her cousins, she was getting married at a young age of 20 years.

Her fiancé, Anand, was from an upper-middle-class family, and worked for an international company that produced machine tools. Anand and Kayal’s wedding ceremony was performed in late morning in the sumptuous Thanjavur Brahmin style, and all of their relatives enjoyed a good feast.

The reception started around 5:30, and it was going well. Family and friends took many pictures with the couple, and there was music and dancing.

After a few hours, when the reception was winding down, Anand answered a phone call from a friend. During the call, his facial expression changed from happy to shocked. Kayal, standing beside him, noticed.

“Anand, is there a problem? You look tense.”

“Yes, a big one.”


“Because today is our wedding, I gave my work project to my friend Jacob to handle. But that idiot has ruined my project.”

“What are you going to do?”

Anand was silent. Kayal asked again.

“He needs my help.”

“Then see him tomorrow and make everything right.”

“Tomorrow I must submit the project; I’ve been working on it for almost three weeks!”

Kayal didn’t say anything.

“Please dear, if you let me, I will go to his house and return in about an hour.”

Kayal thought for a while. She had been anticipating her wedding night for a long time, and if Anand didn’t go now, he would be blabbering about this all night. Her dreams of a romantic wedding night would be ruined. But if he took care of the problem now, he would be more relaxed, and they might have an excellent wedding night. So Kayal allowed him to visit his friend. Anand informed his parents and left on his bike.

Almost two hours passed with no news from Anand. All guests had left, and Anand’s parents and his new bride were worried. They called his cell phone, but found it was switched off.

Kayal was beyond worried.

Anand’s parents tried to placate her, saying that he often switches off his phone when working, as he doesn’t like distractions.

Another hour passed, then the house phone rang. Anand’s father answered.

“Noooo…” he shouted, dropping the receiver.

Anand’s mother and Kayal, alarmed, asked him what happened.

“We must go to St. John’s hospital now” he said.

They drove to the hospital. On the way, Anand’s father informed his wife and his new daughter-in-law that Anand had met with an accident and was in the hospital. Hearing this, the women started crying.

In a few minutes they reached the hospital. When they got there, Anand was being treated, so the family was not allowed to see him. They waited outside the room, tension visible in their faces.

In a few minutes the doctor emerged, and Anand’s father inquired, “How is my son, doctor?”

“He is okay. He was injured around his stomach and thighs. He looks fine on the outside, but we have to take some scans to confirm.”

Anand was taken into another room, and after a half hour, the doctor called Anand’s parents and new bride into his office.

“Sir, is everything all right?”

“Yes… but…” While saying this, the doctor noticed Kayal in her kancheepuram silk saree, which indicated that she was a just-married bride.

“Who is she?”

“She is my son’s wife; they were married today.”

Hearing this, the doctor regretfully said,

“His health is fine, but there is a blood clot near his groin. So . . .” He stopped and looked at Kayal.

“So, what doctor.”

“He can’t have any sexual activity for a year or more.”

Kayal was momentarily stunned. She had been waiting for this day for so long, and she felt her dreams were crushed. All day Kayal had been nervously anticipating her first night of marriage, but now she would be an unsatisfied wife, waiting almost 15 months for her first time.

In two days, Anand came home from the hospital. The couple stayed with Anand’s parents for another week before Anand and Kayal left for Trichy, where Anand had bought a house in which to start their married life together.

After moving in, everything was nice for a few days. At first, Anand was good to her. He took her shopping and to the cinema, and even though Trichy was a small city, it was much bigger than the small village where Kayalvizhi was from, so she enjoyed the outings.

Kayal also didn’t have many issues in the beginning, despite the disappointment of their first night as husband and wife. She assured him that since she was only 20 years old, it wouldn’t make any difference. Many of her older cousins weren’t even married yet. Besides, the challenge would only strengthen their relationship. But, secretly, she had hoped that Anand would at least kiss her or touch her romantically. Yet he didn’t even want to see her naked. They lived like roommates.

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As days passed, he became increasingly busy with work, and Kayal started to feel unsettled. She was more and more unsatisfied with her married life. The human body reacts to the presence of pheromones; she was getting horny as she lay in bed next to him, but couldn’t tell him directly.

One day Anand came home early from the office, in a hurry.

“Kayal darling, today is the happiest day of my life” he said, giving Kayal a tight hug.

“What Anand—I have never seen you this excited!”

“Do you remember the project I was working on when we got married?”

“How can I forget? That fucking project shattered my dreams” Kayal thought.

But she forced a smile and said only: “Yes Anand.”

“That project got approved, so I am going to Dubai for a while to present the project. If I succeed, it means a big step up in my career.”

“Wow, Dubai! When are we going?” Kayal asked excitedly.

“Sorry dear, you are not coming with me. It is a four week trip, and my company is paying all expenses. And . . . my boss is a very strict man. He won’t allow wives to travel with employees on business trips. He thinks it may distract us from our work”.

“Oh. When are you leaving?”

“The flight is later today.”

Hearing this, Kayal cursed her stars and started packing Anand’s bags for the trip. In a couple of hours, Anand left for the airport in a cab, and Kayal stayed in the house, staring at the walls.

The next morning, Kayal awoke early, opened the window, and saw a man in his early forties approach the front door wearing a vest and a lungi (a garment that covers the legs). She immediately went downstairs. As she reached the door the doorbell rang, and Kayal immediately opened it.

“Ma’am, vessel?” he asked.

Kayal had no clue what he was talking about until she saw a bicycle standing outside with an attached milk can. She realized he was the milkman, asking for a container in which to pour milk. Usually Anand would get up early in the morning to do office work, and he would place the vessel in the door. Kayal, who woke up later to prepare breakfast, had never seen the milkman before.

Kayal immediately went inside, got a jug, and came back. When she bent down to get the milk, her pallu (the sash part of a sari) slipped slightly, revealing her deep cleavage to the milkman. He stared at her breasts while pouring the milk.

“Wow, what knockers she has.”

While she had been a student, Kayal’s breasts were big enough to show prominently, even in her loose uniform. She was called ‘kolu molu maami’ (an expression describing something soft and round), which she initially thought was about her cheeks. She fumed when she found out it was about her breasts. She had 34D breasts while her waist was just 28″, giving her a pleasing hourglass figure.

Kayal didn’t notice the milkman’s stare. With the vessel filled, Kayal straightened, and the milkman quickly shifted his gaze. Kayal then took the milk into the house, closed the door, and returned to the bedroom to close the window. But when she neared the window, she saw the milkman stop his bicycle near a bush. Suddenly he raised his lungi up, put his hand inside, and pulled his dick out. Kayal was shocked when she saw his penis, long and thick. The milkman started pissing on the bush and Kayal unblinkingly stared at his dick, which poured urine like a fire hose. After finishing, he rode off on his bicycle. Kayal closed the window and started her housework, but the image of his huge dick was now fixed firmly in her mind.

That night, Kayal thought about the milkman and his dick. She couldn’t wait for sunrise so that she could meet him.

At 5:30 in the morning, Kayal opened the window and watched the gate, eagerly awaiting the milkman. In a few minutes the gate opened, and she saw him approach. She waited in excited anticipation for the door bell’s ring. The moment she heard it, Kayal brought the vessel from the kitchen and went out to fetch the milk. This time, Kayal observed the milkman’s muscular body. She felt a vibration between her legs.

“Ma’am, isn’t your husband home?” the milkman asked Kayal.

“No. He left for a business trip, but he’ll be back.”

They continued to talk for another 15 minutes. During this conversation, Kayal learned that the man’s name was Selvam, he had been married for 12 years, and had two children. Kayal also told him about her family. After their little chat, Selvam left to deliver milk.

Kayal felt happy talking to him—she hadn’t had a good talk to anyone since she’d moved to Trichy. Most of her neighbours had jobs (both husband and wife), and the rest would go to nightclubs or other places she couldn’t go. The conversation with Selvam brought her some relief.

After that, Selvam lingered often with Kayal, talking to her about his work, his wife, and personal matters. Kayal felt increasingly close to him. He started making his milk delivery earlier and earlier to spend more time with her. As weeks passed, both Kayal and Selvam were attracted to each other—but neither had the guts to express their feelings.

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One day, Selvam came almost an hour later than usual.

“Why are you late today, brother?”

“Last night I went to sleep very late, so I couldn’t get up early”.

“Were you milking the cow all night?” Kayal teased.

“No—my wife. She’s a sex fiend and never lets me sleep when she’s in the mood”.

When Kayal heard this she was shocked, and her face become vacant. Selvam noticed.

“You miss your husband, don’t you?”


“Not really . . . even if he were here, he wouldn’t be able to do anything to me,” Kayal said without thinking.

“What do you mean?” Selvam asked, surprised.

Kayal came back to her senses and struggled with what to say.

“Oh, he’s always busy with his work. He carries his laptop everywhere like it’s his conjoined twin.”

“Don’t worry, it will all work out as time passes,” Selvam offered.

The conversation went deep into Selvam’s sex life with his wife. He talked about her physique and her reaction to having her tits fondled, etc. Kayal felt awkward, but enjoyed it.

That night, Kayal was unable to sleep, thinking about the things she and Selvam had talked about that morning. The sight of Selvam’s huge dick appeared in her mind, and she started masturbating thinking about him. While fingering her pussy, she fantasized about his powerful dick. She massaged her breasts harder and harder, and let out some wild moans. She reached a couple of desperately needed orgasms before going to sleep.

From that day on, their conversation mostly revolved around sex. Selvam started admiring about how beautiful Kayal was and making sexy comments about her figure. He would often compare her with his wife and talk about things he liked to do to his wife in bed. At first Kayal felt awkward, but now she teased him with sexy replies. This continued for a few days, Selvam now visiting whenever he had free time. Kayal became more excited every time he visited.

One day Selvam rang her doorbell around 4:30 in the evening. As usual, Kayal welcomed him in, sitting with him in the hallway.

“You came early today; are you already done delivering the milk?”

“No, I may not have work for a few days. The cow at my house is sick, so if we milk her now it won’t be good for her health or for those who drink the milk. So I won’t be working for at least a couple of days”.

“And how is your wife doing?”

“She and the kids are at her mother’s house; they went to attend the wedding festivities of a close relative, and will be back in few days.”

“Then you’re alone in your house? Why didn’t you go with them?”

“If I went with them, there wouldn’t be anyone to look after the cow.”

“Oh, I forgot about that.”

They talked for another 20 minutes.

“Kayal, could you bring me some water to drink?”

“Oh sure. Wait here, I will be right back”

Kayal stood, entering the kitchen a few seconds later.

“Aaaaawwwww…” Selvam heard Kayal scream.

He rushed into the kitchen, where Kayal lay on the floor. He immediately went to help her up. While leaning on him, the side of her boobs pressed into his arms. Selvam, feeling their soft fullness, got an instant erection inside his lungi. So close to his body, Kayal could smell his sweaty musk, and with her breasts pressed against his tensed muscles, she was getting aroused. Selvam slowly helped her into the bedroom and made her lie on the bed.

“What happened!?” Selvam asked her.

“I slipped on some water on the floor.”

“Where does it hurt?”

“My back and legs. I think we should call the doctor.”

Hearing this, Selvam realized he had a unique opportunity to feel the smoothness of her skin. He couldn’t let this opportunity slip away.

“Kayu, why do you need a doctor when you have me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I am good at treating this kind of thing. I learned ancient ayurvedic massage methods from my grandfather.”

“Are you sure you can help me? Because it really hurts.”

“Trust me, I am positive. I’ve treated many people in my village with my massage.”

Then Kayal agreed to let him work on her. Selvam immediately went to the kitchen to find oil for the massage. On the way back to the bedroom, he noticed that the front door was still open, so he quietly locked the door.

Selvam returned to the bedroom with the oil, where he saw Kayal lying on the bed with a pained expression on her face . . . which was so sexy. Seeing her like that drove him crazy with need to touch her smooth skin. Selvam wasted no time and immediately stepped close to Kayal.

“What is that on your hand?” Kayal asked.

“It’s just sesame oil.”

“I thought you would be using balm.”

“No, the oil will do fine. Now turn around and lie on your stomach.”

Kayal did as she was asked, resting her face on a pillow. Selvam moved closer and got a good look at her back.

“Kayal, if you don’t mind, could you please remove the pallu of your saree.”

“What? No, I can’t.”

“How can I apply the oil if your saree is in the way?”

“But . . . but . . .!!”

“I know what you are thinking. Think of me as a doctor—you would certainly do this if a doctor asked you to.”

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Kayal considered it. Feeling more assured, she raised her body slightly, allowing Selvam to pull the pallu off her shoulder and put it aside. Kayal returned to her prone position, and Selvam once again gazed at her pale back. Moving closer, he noticed her boobs pressing against the bed. The sight was too much for him. He just wanted to take his dick out and shag her right then and there, but he controlled himself. He took the bottle and poured oil in one palm before applying it to the other. Then he slowly rubbed it on her back. As Selvam’s hands moved to and fro over, Kayal started to relax. She closed her eyes and let herself enjoy it. Selvam first worked only on her back, but, seeing her relax, he slowly moved his hands to either side of her waist and pressed gently.

“Mmmmm…” Kayal moaned as he touched her waist.

He continued that for a while and then stopped.

“Kayu, now turn around and lie on your back.”

Kayal said nothing, but turned around and lay on her back. She observed that he suddenly had a nickname for her. In this position, her smooth and creamy tummy, along with the two luscious peaks barely hidden inside her blouse, nipples poking through the sheer fabric, gave Selvam’s eyes a treat. He wasted no time climbing over the bed to kneel over Kayal’s upper legs, his knees on either side of her thighs. Seeing Selvam in this position made Kayal a little more nervous, but she didn’t say anything and simply watched his movements.

Once comfortable in that position, he took the oil and poured it into Kayal’s belly button, filling it. Kayal’s body started to shiver as the oil slowly filled the depression of her belly button. Selvam could feel her body tremble underneath him, and the vibration in her body made his dick even harder.

After filling her belly button with the oil, he placed the bottle aside and slowly dipped his middle finger into her navel. The oil overflowed and started running down her tummy. Selvam then slowly rubbed the oil all over her tummy, using gentle pressure. Suddenly a question arose in Kayal’s mind:

“Why is he applying oil on my tummy . . . I was hurt on my back!”

But she realized she didn’t mind—in fact it felt very satisfying. She almost forgot about the pain as she felt his hands slipping over her tummy. As he continued, Kayal stared at the milkman’s muscular body, shining with sweat. Selvam slowly increased his pressure on her body.

“Mmmmm . . . aaaahhhh.” Kayal closed her eyes and started moaning, unable to control herself, which Selvam enjoyed

Before the massage, Selvam hoped only to feel Kayal’s smooth skin. But seeing all of this, it occurred to him that he could easily seduce her and get her to sleep with him.

So he made a plan to take this to the next level. He stopped massaging and got off the bed.

“Is it over?” Kayal asked.

“No! We have not completed even 50% of the treatment.”

Kayal was both surprised and excited that there was more to come.

“Then why did you get off?”

“I am a little thirsty. Let me get a drink of water, and when I come back, I’ll work on your legs. Do you need something to drink?”

“Yes, there is a cup of cold coffee in the refrigerator. You could bring me that.”

“Oh sure.”

Saying that, he entered the kitchen and took the cold coffee out. Then he removed his underwear and dropped it in the corner. He noticed that his dick was rock hard and standing erect inside his lungi. Too erect. This wouldn’t do. Suddenly an idea flashed in his mind.

“Hey, Kayu, is there any hot water in the kitchen? I have a mild sore throat,” Selvam called from the kitchen.

“I don’t think there is, but if you need it you could boil some water” Kayal replied.

Selvam knew she would say this.

“Okay Kayu, thanks.”

Selvam immediately started masturbating thinking of her. He knew if he had stayed in the bedroom for another minute he couldn’t have trusted his own hands not to do something naughty. He silently hummed “Iyengar Veetu Azhage”, a song from the movie Anniyan, while masturbating. Within 5 minutes, he came, shooting his load into the sink. He felt a huge release—in his mind as well as his body.

But now his mind wanted more. He initially only planned to find an excuse to touch her. But now he wanted desperately to fuck her. He knew it had to be done very smoothly, or his name would be spoiled. He tied up his lungie so high that the tip of the penis could be seen. He hoped raw animal lust could break the defense of this sophisticated Brahmin woman.”Here is your coffee” said Selvam the milkman to the higher-caste beauty who waited for him, partially undressed, in her marital bed.

#Hindu #Wife #Degradation #Sex #Stories

Hindu Wife Degradation – Sex Stories

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