Am I Cuckold By Birth

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 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 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.

Eust 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 Rockys.

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. Rocky(D)s 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 Rockys, 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 Rocky, 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.

Nishma didn’t mention my uncle in the next two weeks. However, it was constantly weighing on my mind. May be a little bit more introduction of him is in order. As I had mentioned earlier, he was husband of my father’s cousin sister who was pretty close to our family at some point in time. She married a lower-caste man and hence my parent’s were not keen on keeping them in their inner circle. My aunt was pretty at one point and had was quite close to my parents. They visited us few times a year but after my Aunt’s sort of debilitating disease, which I never could understand, the frequency waned away. In the past few years, we drifted apart although my mother tried to keep in touch with them.

My uncle was not well educated and didn’t fit well in our family order. While he was brusque and insensitive at times, more often than not he spoke his mind. He had a more traditional thinking and thought of the society as well structured unit divided into various compartments. He found it difficult to resist criticizing something that was jarring to his eye. While growing up, he disciplined me more than my parents. My aunt was affectionate but didn’t disapprove of his methods. My parents were too busy managing their social status, so I didn’t mind it. While he had the right intention his ways were rather coercive and that became a problem once I grew up.

His persistent lechering nature flared up an ugly head in our relationship. Everyone in my family was fair and all the ladies were good looking, if not beautiful. My uncle on the other hand was quite dark and while he didn’t look bad there was nothing worth mentioning about his looks. Due to his low educational status and poor background, the men from our families didn’t like him much and were reluctant to form a bond with him. He would spend most of his time running errands and making things happen during festive occasions, which brought him in close connection with the women of our family. It took several years for the men to feel threatened but eventually everyone did.

The men didn’t mind their middle aged wives occasionally flirting back with him but they strongly objected when he carried his behavior with their daughter-in-law’s who were young and in their prime. Most girls of that age don’t really entertain such a man but one of my cousin brother’s wife didn’t mind. It is unclear what happened but my Uncle’s relationship with our family went sour soon after that. My cousin’s brother’s family relocated to distant place so there wasn’t much of real fear anymore but my uncle was made an outcast, in a subtle manner.

He still worked in a local bank but had been considering retiring after his two daughters got married and moved to different locations in India.

After that temple episode and our discussions far away from home, it was clear that my deepest fantasies could be realized with Nishma sooner or later. Even my lame description of my uncle didn’t deter her from entertaining thoughts of having an affair with him. There was no revulsion of having to make out with a complete stranger in her mind. Although, I tried convincing myself that it wasn’t this uncle in my fantasies, I knew that I was only trying to fool myself.

My uncle was about an inch or so taller than me and his pairing with Nishma may not have looked all that comical. He was much dark and over the years his complexion only worsened. Physically he was overweight and showed a nice belly but nothing that seemed out of the ordinary for his age. He still had lot of hair but it was all graying. My hairline had started to recede already.

At home, my parents were puzzled when I mentioned about visiting this uncle on some pretext.

I called up my uncle and had an awkward conversation with him. He congratulated me and joked that he should not hide his bride from me and definitely invite him to the wedding. The engagement ceremony was a private affair so he wasn’t invited and neither had he seen her picture. I mentioned to him that I may visit him over the weekend if time permits. He jokingly retorted who wants to meet you, send your fiancé instead. Such was his nature.

I resisted the whole week and finally called Nishma on Thursday to let her know about the plans for the weekend. She was thrilled and probed me further to learn about his situation, his likes, dislikes. She met me that afternoon to understand everything in detail in order to prepare for her meeting with him. My heart was beating wildly as she learned practically everything I knew about him. She even asked me to bring some of his earlier photographs. And to my surprise she wasn’t disappointed by what she saw. As we parted for that evening, Nishma brought back the topic of the main reason of our visit. All along she played little heed to it and perhaps behaved as if it was a forgone conclusion.

On our way back, she started the discussion, ensuring that we were in relatively private setting.

“Adwait you are sure about introducing me to him, right?”

“No – we are just swinging by,” I clarified.

“Yes but no one introduces their fiancée to a philandering uncle in such a private setting.”

“Would you rather not go?” I asked.

“It’s not about me – you do understand how your uncle may interpret it, right?”

“Why do you think he may misread it?”

“Come on Adwait,” she retorted frustrated with my clueless behavior.

“You introduce him as a domineering, persistent lecher and tell me that he won’t get your subtle message?”

“Even if he didn’t get it – you still hope that you set our relationship with him in right frame of context, don’t you?”

“Can you please speak clearly?”

“Relax,” she said, noticing my agitated state.

“Take a few deep breaths,” she urged and, “listen to me carefully.”

“Don’t masturbate the next two days,” she said abruptly. We did discuss about this aspect and she knew that I masturbated, which is tacitly understood in most cases anyway. The frequency was every other day and sometimes daily. Usually, it happened in the night before I went to bed.

“Listen to me; don’t do it tonight and tomorrow,” she urged.

“Let’s talk on the way to his place on Saturday,” she said and walked to her bus stop.

Nishma was keen on pushing the envelope as well but she wanted it to be our decision instead of hers or mine. It was apparent that she wanted to make up my mind and felt that it would be easier for me to do if I kept myself on the edge. No doubt it worked. My uncle showed up as the ruthless conqueror in my dream who subjugated all the neighboring kingdoms and not only did he do so in my case but also visited my queen’s bedchamber and mated with her as part of a reconciliation ritual. I resisted the urge to masturbate even though I thought I was on the edge already. It was a repeat the next night as well albeit this time I replayed it in my mind consciously again and again.

Nishma and I were to leave early the next morning. Uncle’s house was about 100km and in those days it meant roughly couple of hours or so. We had our own car – as we said we came from fairly affluent background and could afford one even in the license raj. I reached Nishma’s home about 6:00 am or so. The young maid was expecting me and she silently lead me to Nishma’s room on the second floor. She lived in a fairly big house that had had more than five bedrooms. Her bedroom was on the opposite corner from their parents; all other rooms very empty and used sparingly.

I froze instantly when I noticed a giant Rocky (English mastiff) blocking my way into her bedroom. The maid quietly lead him inside Nishma’s bedroom and urged me to join her.

“He is a nice boy,” she consoled.

NIshma was up. She was packing her bag with clothes, even though we planned for a day trip.

“Come Adwait,” she invited.

“Move him to the inside room,” she ordered the maid. He barked as I entered the room; his loud bark resonated through the house.

“Close the door,” she commanded the maid as the maid guided the Rocky into inside room.

“You didn’t tell me that you had a Rocky.”

“Why is he barking?” the servant girl remarked.

“He is quite gentle,” said the servant girl, “doesn’t bark much but don’t know why he is behaving this way now.”

Nishma asked her to leave and get our food ready.

“It is a friends – I went to visit yesterday but he didn’t want to let go of me.”

“Why?”

She smiled and said, “for the same reason he is barking right now.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He is being protective.”

With my puzzled look she felt obliged to explain. She looked inside the other room through the window. He had quieted and was sitting on the floor, his heavy tongue hanging down by the side of his mouth. He soon sniffed his penis and licked his genitals.

“He is a strapping boy – just two years old or so,” she whispered. I noticed that his penis was showing through the sheath.

“Do you see it?” she asked eagerly.

“He senses a lady in heat – and so has been guarding her since last evening.”

“He thinks you are a competitor so wants to drive you away.”

“You know,” she said excitedly, “invariantly during my critical phase he ends up in my room.”

“This is the third time now,” she added.

“You want to see how hard he tries?” she asked teasingly.

Nishma stepped into the room without giving me a chance. She quietly walked in and closed the door behind her. He didn’t get up and waited for her to approach. She knelt down and hugged him. He licked her face playfully, which she tried to evade unsuccessfully. She held his snout and kissed on his nose. Soon after he got hyper and tried to mount her. He practically knocked her down with his sudden movement and his weight. To my utter disbelief, instead of laying down completely, Nishma steadied herself by spreading her knees. The Rocky didn’t need much invitation as he frantically started humping her. The giant Rocky pinned her down and held tightly by her waist as he desperately tried to find the right spot.

Nishma giggled uncontrollably as the hapless Rocky tried to mate with her. Only when he couldn’t make any progress did he dismount but immediately pushed his nose into her pelvis. Fortunately she was wearing a tight fitting jeans that hopefully made smelling her pussy difficult. Nishma finally pushed him away and stepped out of the room.

“He is such an ardent one,” she added, admiring his massive build.

“Now hurry,” she said, grabbing her bag.

“Your uncle deserves my attention much more than him.”

Our plan was to do some sight seeing and then visit them late in the afternoon and head back in the evening to reach home before dinner time. We talked about sundry things and by the time with hit the main highway things were quiet and smooth. My amusement with Rocky was not quite done though, so I asked, “you really think he could mate with a woman.”

She laughed uncontrollably and said, “yes of course.”

“The pheromones that a female in heat emits are very similar so yes it possible for a male species of any kind to mate with a woman as long it is physically possible.”

“You haven’t?” I asked hesitantly.

“No, no,” she blurted trying to contain her laughter again. I just play with him and allow him some liberties but nothing that serious.

As I weighed her words, I realized that Nishma was in her fertile week, which meant she would be receptive to my uncle’s advances. Nishma seemed to have read my mind.

“Do you think your uncle would be as perceptive?” she asked.

“Don’t think so,” I replied casually.

“I bet that he would sense it,” she retorted.

“Did you think about how we should approach our relationship with him?” she asked.

“Wait you did not, right?” she asked hinting towards my bulge. I shook my head. She asked, “you did what I said, right?”

“Yes.”

“Now when I say that – our relationship with him,” she clarified, “I am referring to not the public sphere but private sphere of our relationship.”

“Can you elaborate?”

“There are certain boundaries our societal norms have laid down for us,” she elaborated, “and most of us obey those at least in our public life.”

“We may choose to do whatever pleases us in our private life as long as it doesn’t impinge on our public life.”

“So, when you think about the three of us – what boundaries you have in mind.”

“I still don’t get it,” I replied, getting increasingly uncomfortable due to stiff penis that was refusing to stay within the confines of my pants and her verbal foreplay. She sensed my discomfort as I shifted my weight and try to align my penis correctly.

“Good,” she said realizing the source of my discomfort.

“You need to think both with your head and that for such things,” she said pointing to my stiff erection.

“Let me ask you something before we discuss the boundaries of our relationship,” she said collecting her thoughts.

“Did you have any strange dreams in the past few days?”

“Uh…” I shuddered the moment she asked it. Instinctively she understood that she got immediately to the crux of the matter.

“Go on,” she urged, “don’t make me plead.”

“I had the dream of a king who had to surrender to his conqueror and as part of the reconciliation agreement the conqueror gets to visit the royal queen’s bedchamber.”

“Plausible,” she quipped.

“It wasn’t just any night – meticulously planned and orchestrated ceremony when the queen would be most receptive.”

“Not bad at all,” she said, slapping my thigh.

“All of such things must have definitely happened in the past,” she conjectured.

“If I could hazard a guess, you were the vanquished king, and Uncle was the conqueror that leaves me to don the duties of the queen.”

She laughed but contained it realizing my resentment.

“You know,” she continued, “in olden times the king had right to take the virginity of a newly married woman.”

“It was called ‘right of the first night’,” she added.

“It ‘s all fine in our fantasies,” she said looking at me, “in those I can be whoever you want me to be.”

“In real life, there are consequences and hence we need boundaries,” she said returning us back to our original discussion.

“If I may put words in your mouth,” she continued, “you don’t really intend to embrace public boundaries in our private dealing with him.”

“Am I correct,” she asked. I nodded.

“Now, that may mean many things but would it be fair to say that you wouldn’t object if I developed a strong bond with him. Something akin to what he had with some of the women from your social circle.”

“More or less,” I said agreeing.

“Now these women were perhaps never alone with him, so one wouldn’t know for sure.”

“But I would presume you would imagine us – Uncle and me – reducing the physical distance in private after having bridged the emotional distance.”

Nishma knew how to play with words and toy with my emotions.

She rephrased it again to make it clearer, “If he were to eventually sleep with your wife on rare occasions – it would be acceptable to you, right?”

I didn’t know how to respond. She felt for my heart beat and took my excitement as an answer.

“You don’t want it to end – do you?” she asked. Once again my silence answered her question.

“And you certainly wish him to enjoy your wife’s youthful body sooner rather than later.”

She waited for my answer but didn’t really expect me to. It was rhetorical question.

“Now that we know our eventual goal – let’s talk about how you want to see this evolve.”

“If you really want this to evolve then we need to drop the hints right away.”

“Very first thing,” she started, “when we three are together you would allow or rather encourage him to pursue me in a subtle manner.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“Figure it out,” she retorted.

“How are we going to do all that – we will be out in an hour from their home.”

Our discussion moved away from this topic and we focused more on our day’s itinerary. Unlike myself Nishma could turn on and off her urges with relative ease. Although Nishma didn’t really say it in explicit terms, perhaps preserving the decorum of our relationship, I knew that if my disgusting uncle made a move on her and decided to mount her even in this trip, I would have allowed it. Perhaps deep down even Nishma knew this; her concern was more about secrecy.

We discussed more details about Uncle and Aunt. There were a few other aspects that I had left untouched. My Uncle was couple of years younger to my Aunt; in those days the wives would be at least five years younger to the husband and the normal usually was around 6-8 years age difference. It was a second marriage for my Aunt as the first one ended in a divorce, which had affected her relationship with our family. Although she was married for 5 years before she got divorced, she didn’t have a child and was perhaps the reason why her marriage ended in a divorce. However, my over zealous Uncle impregnated my Aunt soon after marriage and dispelled the myth of my Aunt’s infertility. In fact, he was so virile that within a matter of 2 ½ years, my Aunt gave birth to two daughters. If that weren’t enough, he impregnated her three more times but unfortunately, all the times my Aunt miscarried. The last one happened perhaps a decade ago and maybe the complications from this was the reason behind my Aunt’s illness. I noticed Nishma’s nervousness or anxiety as she shifted her weight in the seat incessantly as we talked about these aspects. Certainly, in my mind it was clear that his virility, his lecherous tendencies and his ability to seduce younger and gorgeous women allowed me to grant the ultimate status of the conqueror in my fantasies.

When it was time to head to my uncle’s home, she made me stop at a desolated spot so she could change into more comfortable but traditional attire. She was wearing jeans with a button down shirt on top. She changed to a tight fitting nice sleeveless Salwar Khameez. It was the modern styled Khameez that didn’t run all the way down and split on the side at the waist level or slightly above it. She avoided wearing perfume perhaps in an attempt to let him smell her willingness, I imagined. I noticed once again how big her breasts looked in that tight fitting garment.

“Do you think he would be pleased?” she asked teasingly. She took hold of my bulge as she pushed me against the car. As I tried to kiss her, she firmly said, “Don’t.”

“I don’t want your scent on me, right now,” she added. There was few moments of silence as she intently watched me while caressing my bulge. We were only 15-20 minutes away from his place. She didn’t say anything but continued massaging my penis. She stroked my penis with a clear intention of making me cum but my thick trousers didn’t give her enough leverage. After a long pause she sat back in the car.

“What was it about?” I asked, heading back to his place. She didn’t respond and chose to ignore my question.

Even though I was in a state of confusion, I knew that this was perhaps the moment where I could have called it off completely. Nishma’s categorical rejection to my kiss should have made it apparent that she was heading to his place with a mission. And my agreement to her behavior conveyed in no uncertain terms that I was willing to live with the consequences.

We finally arrived at their house. My uncle’s house was surrounded by a very big yard that was filled with lot of mango trees. The house was amidst these trees that not only provided with ample income but also complete seclusion.

“Here is the deal,” she said as we approached the house.

“If I like him then we look for an excuse to stay over,” she said breathlessly.

My uncle was enjoying the evening sitting on the veranda.

“Look who is here,” he yelled, looking at me. We were about 30-50 feet away. Nishma ignored me the moment Uncle laid his eyes on her. He looked at me only for a moment before taking in her sweltering beauty. She got out and gave him her charming smile and blushed as it struck her how mesmerized he was with her beauty.

“And who is the gorgeous lady,” he remarked having approached her. I wondered how he managed to descend those stairs without turning his gaze from her. Nishma stood tall proudly and quickly arranged her clothes to make herself presentable.

“How tall and gorgeous she is?” he remarked inspecting her overall body in rather obscene manner. Nishma, I thought, was used to such glances but for a change I noticed her face redden. She blushed and evaded his eyes for few moments as the lady in her recognized his lustful gaze.

“What made you fall for him?” he asked. It only embarrassed her even further but she mustered courage and responded, “You Uncle.”

Uncle was taken aback; perhaps he didn’t really expect a woman to answer such a question, at least not the way she answered. Nishma confidently admired their ancestral home after having unsettled him. He stood by side ignoring me standing on the other side of the car behind them.

“Come,” he said, trying to lead her and that bastard lay his hand on her instantly. Nishma looked at him and although she was a little nervous, she tried to conceal it with her pretty smile. To understand the gravity of this act – it is important to understand that men were generally not allowed to touch a woman and especially not the way he was leading her. Even though it was common in the movies, in real life it was still uncommon for even husband and wife to walk that way. A complete strange leading a woman that way meant that they were rather well acquainted.

“Why don’t you pick your stuff?” he suggested to me, while I lead her to your Aunt’s room. Almost instantly my uncle showed to Nishma that he was a jerk – not only was he leading my fiancée away but he was commanding me to take care of errands. Nishma ignored me completely and paid attention to him while ascending the stairs.

“How so,” I heard him ask.

“Oh no nothing,” she demurely replied.

“Come on,” he urged, stopping at the top of stairs. Nishma hesitated for a brief moment and my ever sharp uncle knew that my presence would make it difficult for her to speak up. Tactfully, he took a side step to take cover of the huge pillar that supported the roof. Pulling her even closer he encouraged her to whisper it to him.

While I couldn’t see them, Nishma filled in the details and what went through her mind right then. At first, she was enamored by his direct approach. For a man to disregard the presence of a woman’s husband whilst conveying his strong desire to mate with her unequivocally is no ordinary feat. And then physically encroaching her private space that apparently even I wasn’t supposed to until after I got married to her – right in front of her husband’s eyes – only reinforced her initial impression. If that weren’t enough, he pulled her into his arms as he tried to pry out the reason behind her witty retort. Nishma explained how his body’s pungent odor filled her nostrils and his stale breath smelled of tea. As disgusting as it sounded to her, she admitted that the effect on her was quite the opposite.

“It’s nothing Uncle,” she said evading him and trying to distance herself from him in vain. Uncle’s hand now had a firm grip on her waist and he had even pulled her towards him, so that she was facing him but not quite. As his hands dug in, they made contact with her naked skin, the short Kurta riding up offered a small patch of skin for grabs.

“Hurry now,” he urged her as I was about to grab our backpacks from the trunk and walk in.

“It’s just that,” she hesitantly spoke and then leaning forward whispered into his ear, “he said something about your ability to take care of women.”

His chest swelled with pride as her sensuous lips delivered sweet notes to his ears. Uncle laughed wholeheartedly. His bouncing belly against her waist reminded how perilously close she was to him. She looked at his face intently. He was dark skinned. The hard-work over the years and exposure to sunlight only made it much darker. His round face sported a thick, graying mustache and stubble that liberally covered the coarse skin of his face.. His thick graying eyebrows highlighted his complexion and smallish eyes. His hairline receded only a little but the grayish color of his hair gave away his age. His nose was ordinary and he had thick lips that very completely black.

Nishma was in a trance. She anticipated a rather covert approach and even then she felt not much may happen unless she subtly conveyed her desire to him. Nishma was tall and even though I thought my Uncle was taller than me that wasn’t the case; he was perhaps an inch or so shorter than me. This gave Nishma a vantage point as she looked at him from higher angle and could easily inspect him without his knowing. She found herself rounding her shoulders and stooping closer to him to hear what he was about to say. Only this time, instead of offering her ear, she just bridged the distance between their faces.

Uncle, looked up and blurted, “which I very much do.” His stale breath hit her once again but it wasn’t bad.

“But let’s talk about it in private,” he added, looking into her eyes. Here eyes that were locked with his lowered in acceptance.

“He won’t be able to take it,” he said.

“Sure he won’t,” she responded, locking her eyes with him and then sensuously suggesting that they separate themselves as she hinted towards my approach.

They stepped into the house not giving me a chance to catch up with them. Nishma later on shared that even though she had hinted, he didn’t let go of her until he lead her to Aunt’s bedroom. By the time, I reached, Nishma was sitting by Aunt’s bedside. We exchanged our pleasantries. Aunt was pretty impressed with my choice and showered praise on both of us. Even Uncle was beaming with pride for a change in a more fatherly manner.

Very soon the topic of length of our stay came up and as I tried to convince my Aunt, Nishma politely acceded to her request. It was a subtle hint to me that she approved of my Uncle and considered him worthy of her attention. My loins stirred as she stole a glance while talking to my Aunt. Uncle was missing for a little while and even I moved our bags to the bedroom where guests usually stayed.

The house was designed as an “U” shape. The entrance of the house was at the base of the “U.” The kitchen was on the far end of right side and Aunt’s bedroom was right next to it. Uncle slept in the bedroom next to hers bordering the living room. The other side of “U” was mostly used for guests. In the belly of the “U” was the big yard that most houses had for socializing with members of a joint family. The entire house rested on elevated base perhaps about 5-6 feet above the ground level. The steps behind lead to the backyard that was meant for private use. It was quite big; one could easily play hide and seek if they wished to. The bathroom was in the far left corner of this yard.

Aunt and Nishma spoke for what seem like 15-20 minutes when both Uncle and myself showed ourselves back. Nishma seemed a little unnerved as her flushed face and her irregular breathing confirmed. Aunt justified that it was just she was sad hearing about her illness.

“Let me make some tea,” quipped Uncle and stepped out of the room. Ever since Aunt had taken ill, Uncle took care of daily errands for both of them. The two daughters would occasionally visit and provide temporary relief but Uncle and Aunt believed in being self-sufficient. It was not easy to maintain such a big house; a maid visited twice a day to make food for them but the house largely was maintained by him.

“Why don’t you two freshen up?” suggested Aunt.

“Aunty let me make the tea instead,” she responded. Aunt smiled. I made way back to the bedroom to grab a towel so that I could freshen up. The bedroom was at the far left end of the “U” right opposite to the kitchen, across the yard. As I stepped out into the yard and peered into the kitchen, I could make out two figures standing near the kitchen platform. The voyeur in me descended the stairs into the back yard but instead of heading to the toilet, I moved towards the kitchen and climbed the steep platform to peep in through the kitchen window. It was quite dark and it was quite private so there was little fear of getting caught; besides I didn’t want to miss the best moments. Unfortunately, the kitchen itself was dimly illuminated with very little light coming from the two windows and the door that seemed to have been pulled together. It was open when I last saw, so my Uncle must have taken the initiative, I thought.

While I witnessed some of the scene, I couldn’t tell what they were talking about due to the noise of the burning stove. What I am about to narrate is what Nishma shared with me. She didn’t reveal all the details immediately but over a period of several years she elaborated on all the finer aspects of what transpired between the two and how they build their chemistry.

“Uncle let me make it,” she interrupted him as soon as she stepped in the kitchen.

“Thank you,” he uttered with a beaming smile. Uncle grabbed the utensil, the tea and sugar bins from the small cupboard. Nishma tied the scarf behind by her waist, essentially pulling it up a little until it was just around her neck. She did this to avoid having her scarf fall onto the stove that she was trying to light. The olden burning stoves that ran on kerosene needed quite some physical effort to light. She vigorously pumped the stove as Uncle stood by her side and watched her heaving breasts that were so obscenely visible. Nishma exclaimed how her pussy was inundated with her juices perhaps anticipating some kind of vigorous pumping from Uncle.

As she kept the utensil on the stove, she realized that her breasts were not covered by her scarf and although she wasn’t really wearing a deep necked Kameez, it was tight fitting and exposed the top portion of her breasts. Uncle ogled at her beauty and suddenly realizing that he was making her uncomfortable said, “let me check on Aunty and see if Adwait needs anything.”

“It’s okay Uncle,” she replied as she poured water in the utensil, “Aunty should be fine and Adwait must be freshening up.”

“You don’t have to worry about me being alone with you,” she added, as he moved to the door that opened into the yard. He must have seen me descend the stairs into the backyard when he pulled together the door. Uncle tiptoed behind her and stood right by her, laying his hand on her waist once again. She nervously smiled looking at him as she added the ingredients to the water.

“Keep your voice low,” he said leaning forward into her, “Aunty’s hearing is very good.”

Nishma smiled as he made it clear to her that he didn’t want Aunt to find out that he was overstepping his boundaries.

“It’s fine Uncle,” she retorted, “I won’t tell on you.”

“You have to watch out,” she said, “getting too close to other women would get you in trouble – that’s what happened in the past,” she added, clearly hinting that she knew about his past. Uncle was surprised and slowly withdrew his hand from her waist. There was a little bit of disappointment on his face.

“Sorry Uncle, I was joking,” she said turning towards him. His hand now rested on her back and her heaving breasts were right in front of him. She once again realized how naked she felt in front of him.

“Forget about that,” he asked lowering his voice and taking a tiny step towards her.

“You are so tall – what made you choose him?”

“What’s in height uncle besides there is no point crying over spilled milk,” she replied jokingly.

They both giggled trying to contain their laughters. I had perhaps entered the scene at this time. Even from the behind view I could see Nishma’s right breast jutting out obscenely; I could only imagine how irresistible she must have looked from front.

“And you are so beautiful – wish I had such a luck,” he uttered without any emotion.

“You are so kind uncle. You are lucky yourself with such a pretty wife.”

“I wish she was healthy too,” he added with a little resentment in his voice.

“I hope she recovers fast too,” responded Nishma.

“I still envy his fate,” he quickly said turning into more jovial discussion.

“Uncle he is just a husband – although a woman dreams of a charming and dynamic husband like you – not everyone is fortunate,” she quickly retorted with a mischievous smile. I thought she meant it as a sly remark and perhaps that was her intention too but Nishma is not quite certain about this anymore. Uncle should have backed off but he instead he took one step closer and pulled her into his arms. She was caught off guard with his sudden move. She moved her one hand to his shoulder and with the other hand she grabbed the the platform. She was in his arms; her right breast met his shoulder and she could feel his manhood against her thigh.

The situation had escalated much faster than we imagined. I evaluated my options and thought of intervening, yet at the same time I knew that this was the moment I had been longing for. Uncle confidently responded, “and what she can’t find in her husband she looks for in other men of her family!”

Nishma was silent. Except for the burning sound of the stove there was practical emptiness in the room. Uncle inspected her breasts in a direct manner. She desperately tried to avoid his eyes and turned to adding the milk to the tea. As soon as she put back the cup on the platform, he swiftly pulled her into his embrace. Nishma supported herself with her hands on his shoulders. His hands moved southwards from waist and caressed her large butt. I could clearly see how small his hands looked while trying to knead her butt.

Uncle then moved his hand up and untied her hair. She had tied her hair behind with a simple band. He let her hand loose and played with it feeling the soft, silkiness of her hair between his fingers. The aroma of the tea was permeating through the room. Uncle pulled her head down and I saw my beautiful wife leaning forward to offer her lips to him. Nishma played coy but submissive. Uncle confidently parted his lips and pushed his tongue into her mouth. She reluctantly kissed him back but more in amateurish way. Uncle held her head in place with his hand on her neck and continued kissing her. Uncle squeezed her left breast. She winced with his rough move and engaged in her kiss more actively. His one hand kneaded her shapely butt. Nishma must have entertained him for a minute or so but it seemed like an eternity to me.

Aunt called for Nishma. It broke the trance they both were in. He quickly stepped out in the yard and Nishma tidied herself after wiping her mouth. The tea was almost done and it was time for me to run back lest getting caught by Uncle. Fortunately, Uncle didn’t head to the toilet instead he headed back to the living room.

When I returned, Nishma had already served tea to both Aunt and Uncle. Nishma’s face seemed unusually flushed and when Aunt asked her she remarked that it was quite hot here.

It was hot and humid. The errant electricity didn’t alleviate the pain but only ridiculed the local population. They had gotten used to it and opted for their hand fans and lanterns in the night time. Nishma was hesitant to stay over but she had concealed her apprehensions. Besides, it just seemed as if the sparks were about to fly. Nishma avoided looking at Uncle directly but every now and then I saw her inspecting him inconspicuously. I was amazed

Finding an opportune moment, we sneaked to our bedroom, which was at the far corner of the house, opposite Kitchen.

“Why are you so nervous?” I asked.

“Don’t you know – your Uncle already fancies me,” she retorted.

“Well you wanted to encourage him, didn’t you?” I retorted.

“He didn’t need any,” she fumed.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked a little frustrated.

“Figure out how to head back,” she shot at me.

“I thought you agreed with Aunty,” I objected.

“Well you could have objected,” she quickly retorted.

“But it is not safe to drive so late in the night.”

“I don’t feel safe here either,” she replied and stepped out into the yard, heading towards kitchen.

Nishma’s sudden change in mood surprised me. It seemed as if she wanted to stay for the night but perhaps she wanted an excuse if things didn’t go out as planned, I thought. At the very least I thought she was uncomfortable with the notion. Regardless, Nishma looked simply irresistible; especially after her brief episode with my uncle. All the while we were talking I was only inspecting her well shaped body. Her tall and slender figure looked so appealing. The dress she opted for outlined her bust and figure perfectly. It was apparent that she knew what attracted men about her and she knew how to put on a good show.

Even though Nishma was uncomfortable and should have not encouraged him any further, she decided to make his favorite dish to please him. Nishma got busy in the kitchen, along with the maid. Uncle asked me to buy a few things from the nearest shop, so I left immediately. Not much happened while I was gone but around the time I returned, Nishma was with Uncle in his study room. It was on the other side of the living room, two doors down from the bedroom where we stayed that night.

Uncle was not really a learned man but he had developed this reading habit over the years and was an avid collector of books. At some point, this became his private library where not many entered. The room was the same size as his bedroom, which was exactly opposite on the other end of the living room. The room had a small bed by the window right opposite to a small entrance that had split door opening inwards. The doors were not perfect and were only meant for providing some security but not really any privacy. A metal chain hanging at the top of the door usually locked in the buckle at the top of the door frame. This was standard for houses built around those times.

When I returned, I was surprised to not find Nishma in the kitchen. Instinctively, I veered to Uncle’s study room. It was quite and not much could be discerned, so I didn’t understand but waited for her to come out. Nishma filled in the details about what transpired inside over the years.

Aunt had suggested that she offer Uncle the special dish. Reluctantly, she walked to Uncle’s room with the dish in her hand.

“Uncle that was a big mistake earlier,” she mumbled, handing over the dish to him. Uncle was too excited to see her alone again and especially with his favorite dish in her hand. Surprisingly he didn’t pounce on her; instead his behavior was much more cordial. He sat on his chair savoring the dish before he responded to her. Nishma stood a few feet away and exercised unusual caution with him.

“It was a good one,” he mumbled with his mouth full of food.

“I am glad you weren’t offended,” he added.

“Uncle I am very sorry about what happened; I shouldn’t have let down my guard.”

“You only did what was natural,” retorted Uncle.

“Uncle please,” she pleaded.

“Come on Nishma”, he interrupted, still comfortably seating and eating, “you know that this would have happened sooner or later.”

Nishma was dumbfounded with the calmness he was talking to her about such scandalous behavior.

“Look,” he said, looking up, “I know his type,” he said referring to me, “they cannot do justice to your beauty.”

“But more importantly he is docile enough to tolerate your indiscretions.”

“Uncle what are you talking about?” Nishma blurted. She was certainly annoyed by his demeanor; he was taking her for granted. Yet she understood that the reason for his behavior was her own weakness.

“Keep calm Nishma,” he said hushing her.

“Even though Aunty is ill, she can hear very well.”

Nishma was getting increasingly nervous as she felt that it was getting out of hand. While she bravely ventured to seduce my uncle, she wasn’t quite ready for the immediate consequences. She felt that she could tease him for several months or perhaps years. Even though we did talk about a possibility where things may move too quickly for our comfort, we never anticipated this.

“No one has to know anything,” he said getting up from his seat.

“And nothing has to happen without your consent,” he assured.

“You are subject to “right of the first”, right?” he quickly asked.

Uncle was referring to the same custom that Nishma alluded to me in the morning. It was “right of the first night.” Nishma shuddered as she heard those words. She wondered how Uncle would know about it. It was to be kept a closely guarded secret. She felt a little wobbly and Uncle expertly once again took her in his arms.

“Although the custom is waning,” he quipped supporting her, “there are several merits for pretty women like you.”

“I can assure you,” he added, “that it would be a much better experience with your dhani than your husband.”

“Dhani” was a local word used to refer to your master in master-slave relationship. Usually, it referred to the feudal lord and often house-wives addressed their husbands as “Dhani” especially if they came from affluent families. The later didn’t imply a master-slave relationship between husband and wife but rather implied the elevated status of the husband as the primary bread winner for the house.

Nishma was quite ashamed to confess of her quandary to a stranger, whom she hardly knew. Yet Uncle didn’t behave indecently and neither was he bullying her. It was his way of assuring that even though it seemed like a stigma, there were benefits to be had. Nishma knew some of the benefits already and hence had embarked on such a relationship with me but perhaps it is best left for a later time.

Nishma didn’t share this tidbit with me at that time. All of this was a closely guarded secret and I learned it after quite a while.

“If you can have a relationship with your Dhani and your husband, there is no reason why you can’t have it with me as well.”

“Dhani’s move on to greener pastures and husband’s are simply no good – I can assure you about your one,” he added confidently.

Nishma was practically shivering with fear and sexual anxiety. It was one thing to act slutty in a remote, private place and quite another to do so at my own Uncle’s place with him. Was he for real? Did he really wanted to have an affair with me or was he simply testing my resolve, she thought.

“Uncle you are embarrassing me,” she pleaded.

“I am making it easier,” he answered assuredly.

“There is nothing for you to fear from me,” he added, “irrespective of whether you agree to my proposal or not.”

It relieved Nishma a little bit but her sexual anxiety wasn’t gone.

“Uncle how do you know about this?” she asked.

“The other girl with whom I got in trouble,” he whispered into her ear practically, “I had foiled “right of first” for her.”

Nishma was getting comfortable with him yet again. He was already supporting her by holding her by her waist. Although Nishma was still standing sideways to him, her body now made a V with his and she was increasingly leaning forward to bridge the gap between them; quite essential since she was quite taller than him.

“It was closely guarded secret but eventually things got out and it wasn’t pretty,” he continued.

“Uncle you slept with her even before she got married?” she whispered with a sense of amusement.

“Yes.”

“How is that possible?”

“Adwait thought it was something else,” she mumbled.

“Nishma if you are consenting then it may happen yet again,” he replied confidently, “but I would rather have an affair with you than a one night stand.”

“Uncle you are embarrassing me,” she quipped. Nishma realized how close she was standing to him and instinctively tried to retreat but Uncle was in no mood to let go of her.

“There is no shame in it,” he said lowering his voice again.

“This tradition has been going on for generations and even if the families are not as enslaved as they once were, the women have simply opted to continue it in the name of family tradition.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” retorted Nishma.

“It does,” he quipped. Uncle was inspecting her body in the faint light of the candle. She became aware of his intentions and froze for a moment. Uncle was so lost inspecting her body that he simply pulled down her scarf to expose her sizable bust.

“These are quite sizable,” he said, looking up at her; his hand gently caressing her breasts. Her face had reddened with nervousness but she didn’t stop him. She lowered eyes in shame as Uncle’s actions only became bolder. He squeezed her right breast.

“Your dhani would not wait to impregnate you,” he whispered. Nishma shuddered hearing him explicitly describing what was perhaps intended of consummation.

“You are quite ready for it,” he added winking at her. Nishma gave him a nervous smile.

“Although I am tempted,” he added, “I wouldn’t foil it for him this time.”

“It would allow us a chance to have an affair that you surely would want it.”

Nishma hesitantly leaned forward and offered him her lips. Uncle latched onto her lips and kissed her voraciously. Unlike the last time where she only parted her lips and used her tongue sparingly, she indulged him wholeheartedly. Uncle squeezed her breasts several times, which only intensified her kissing. Nishma took him in his arms as Uncle’s hands moved to her butt and pulled her into him. She passionately explored his mouth and tongue conveying her strong desire to become his mate in the illicit relationship he had proposed. Uncle squeezed both her breasts vigorously, which only intensified her kiss. She was practically drooling into his mouth. Making a bold move Uncle led her hand to his crotch. She willingly fondled the sizable bulge and learned that he was quite well endowed.

“Uncle you are getting me into a lot of trouble,” whispered Nishma breaking the kiss.

“I may get a divorce even before getting married,” she added.

“Far from it – the worst that can happen is that you get pregnant even before marrying,” he added jokingly.

Uncle was holding her in a tight grip now. She could feel his penis trying to climb up to her snatch but she was clearly was a much larger woman for him. His boldness and confidence had certainly struck a chord with her. She offered him her lips once again and this time their kiss was rather languid as they explored each other’s tongues and bodies.

“We should meet again after Adwait is asleep,” he said breaking kiss. Nishma continued kissing him.

“It is not a good idea,” she whispered. Uncle pulled her further into his groin until she lost balance. His hands gave a good squeeze to her butt.

“You are too short Uncle,” she said chuckling. It didn’t dent his ego. He simply pushed her against the wall and in a swift move he lifted her up and held with her thighs. Her legs splayed open hinged onto his butt bringing his pelvis in contact with her pussy. Nishma confessed how vulnerable and how connected she felt to him that very moment. His thick, taut penis was lined up against her pussy, all the way from the bottom and reached just below her navel. The thin cloth of the Salwar allowed for that close connection. As she adjusted her weight to allow for my diminutive Uncle to hoist her carefully, she felt her pussy lips itch to experience the girth of his equipment. She mused to herself – this man lacks everything when it comes to courting pretty woman except for his character and sizeable equipment.

“Allow me a chance,” he replied confidently and aggressively kissed her. Nishma was lost in her lust filled passion for him. Even though she approached him with circumspection, he had definitely rocked her world.

“I am not the first one I suppose,” she quipped between her kisses, “to fall for your charms.”

“You certainly are the prettiest,” he responded.

“We should stop this now – Adwait may be back,” she whispered catching her breath.

“Would he mind?” he asked. Nishma was speechless. The only response she had was to offer her very best to him. Her instinct told her that Uncle was not an ordinary man; he definitely deserved her physical attention. Nishma lowered herself and standing tall she took Uncle in her arms and offered him her sloppiest and perhaps the deepest of kisses. It was as if she wanted his breath to permeate her nostrils; her body to carry his odor. After what seemed like an eternity – perhaps well over five minutes – at Uncle’s insistence, she knelt before him and nuzzled into his crotch. Nishma had a fascination for the natural odor of loins and especially when they were unwashed for a day but not much longer than that. She also liked the slight pungent odor of an unwashed anus but she never strayed southwards if she suspected it was unclean. She was okay with the odor but never rimmed them in such a state. Uncle then untied the knot of his pajamas and let his short pajamas fall down. Nishma’s hormones had taken over her completely by now. She nuzzled into his crotch and inhaled his musky aroma that had a mild stench of urine. She moved upwards and kissed the top of his penis that was peeping from the top of his underwear as the tight elastic held it tightly hugged against his abdomen. The bitter taste of his precum hit her as soon as she flicked her tongue across exposed peehole. Nishma exclaimed how long his penis was that could peep out of his underwear despite a very thick elastic band at the top. As she eagerly licked on his knob, Uncle freed up his monstrous equipment. She suckled on his knob as a baby would on mother’s nipple. Occassionally she tongued his peehole. Uncle moaned in pleasure and instinctively pushed forward. Nishma made no attempt to stop him and opened her mouth wide to facilitate the penetration. She has been instructed well in the art of pleasuring men. Nishma let him continue his futile attempts but soon he gave up. Nishma was young and a novice at performing fellatio, although she did receive good training on it. She quickly moved to his large testicles and bathed them with her saliva. It was a subservient gesture of hers to show the man that she treasured his seed and would be privileged to receive it in her womb.

In that pitch darkness, all she could sense was his humongous size – both the length and girth. Compared to his skinny legs, his appendage felt huge. She imagined how a stallion’s penis look when it dropped on sighting a female in heat. Her hormones had already amplified the effect of the aroma she was experiencing and his oversized equipment further instigated her subservient tendencies. She continued pleasuring him with her tongue and encouraged his futile attempts to drive more of his penis into her mouth. He didn’t seem to have much of staying power and released his semen in a hurry. She tried to catching it in her mouth, instead of letting him spray her clothes with his semen. Nishma quickly tidied her clothes and stepped out quietly and directly headed to our bedroom where I was waiting for her.

It was dark in the room with only a lantern kept in the corner. She stepped inside and promptly closed the door. I was standing in the corner trying to hide as I didn’t have time to step out. She caught her breath for a few moments. I noticed her breasts heave as she inhaled and exhaled through her mouth. She whispered to me as she realized me standing in the corner. She didn’t move but waited for me to step towards her. She had a mischievous smile on her face as I took her in my arms. Without any thought I planted my lips on her. She parted her lips and let my tongue slide in to taste my uncle’s fresh semen that she had just gulped. Her lips were smeared with her bitter tasting, sticky liquid that she offered me to relish on.

Nishma continued to kiss me passionately even as my hands squeezed her breasts roughly. Her breath was so intoxicating that it only fuelled my hunger for her. We must have been wrestling with each other for over five minutes, when she whispered, “do you want to lick me?”

It wasn’t a question but an order. I hastily knelt in front of her and helped her pull down her Salwar. She was soaking wet and for a moment I wondered if Nishma had sex with Uncle. On the other end, I had convinced myself that she had fucked him already but was only entertaining the thought as it would been adventurous for Nishma to do so. Nishma’s wet juices devoid of his semen confirmed that she had note mated with yet. Nishma stumbled to the bed and laid back, spreading her legs and let me eat her to my heart’s content. Nishma squirmed and moaned as I tried to pleasure her. It took a little over five minutes for her to orgasm.

She lazily got up and tidied up her dress as I looked at her earnestly. My to be married wife had made out with my dominating Uncle. The sheer thought itself made me shudder in excitement as my penis would drip semen without any physical manipulation.

“Are you happy?” she asked, breaking my reverie.

“Your Uncle knows how to recognize a bitch in heat,” she quipped, trying the knot on her Salwar.

“He is a terrific kisser,” she added sensually.

“Not to mention the long dong he possess – every woman’s dream.”

“So you approve of him?” I quipped.

“Very much,” she responded, arranging her clothes and checking her hair in the mirror.

While I was resigned to the life of a cuckold the moment I allowed her to make out with a ordinary local back in the temple, I didn’t expect to have such casual conversations about such a sensitive topic. Nishma showed no qualms of such illicit things and very soon I too was desensitized. More importantly, however, was how scandalous this was considered during our times. This was in the early eighties, when the black and white TV sets started appearing in houses. Color TVs were rare and to be found in affluent houses. There was practically no programming on TV’s most of the week but for Saturday’s and Sundays. A closed society such as in Indian didn’t even allow for live-in relationships and generally frowned up on any kind of premarital sex. Sex itself was a hurried affair in the dark with not too much of physical intimacy as men and women were not comfortable with their bodies to flaunt them openly in front of their partners. This was true for a majority of the population leading a normal life. French kissing as it was called then wasn’t practiced between couples. It was quite uncommon. So for woman of Nishma’s caliber to make out with my Uncle was no ordinary feat!

“He is quite a charmer,” she added as my mind was weighing the gravity of her approval.

“Has he bedded other women from your family?” she asked.

“What about your cousin’s wife?”

“I don’t know,” I replied shaking my head.

The dinner was uneventful but I noticed the chemistry between them work like magic.

Immediately after the dinner, Uncle made out with her in the kitchen as she tidied up the kitchen. They kissed passionately as I watched them secretly from our bedroom opposite kitchen. Not much was visible but it was evident that Nishma was an active participant. Their activities had several interruptions due to Aunt’s requests but they continued where they left off. It was actually working much better for them and even though Nishma would reconsider it every time they had an interruption, she would soon indulge him upon his return. Uncle showed special interest in her breasts and she gave him plenty of opportunities to play with them. This went for a long while – perhaps half-an-hour or so and eventually I saw Nishma kneel down and fellate him. Most of it was not visible but I could imagine that Uncle immensely enjoyed her act. Uncle had much better control and although Nishma tried her best, he could control his ejaculation much better.

Eventually Nishma stepped out after bidding Uncle a good bye. She spent some quiet time with Aunt while I fiddled with sexual anxiety inside our bedroom. Uncle had stepped out of the house to run a few errands. Perhaps it was his regular trip to spend some time with his local friends. It was only around eight or so in the evening, yet everything was quiet. I visited Aunt a few times but didn’t feel welcome so left leaving both of them alone. As I fretted inside our bedroom, little did I realize about the impending doom.

Nishma did emerge from the bedroom after almost an hour or so. There was no sign of Uncle, so I was by myself eagerly waiting for her to return.

I pounced on her as soon as she stepped in the room. Bolting the door, I shoved her towards the bed and kissed her frantically. Nishma was a little surprised but she kissed me back leisurely.

“You have to slow down Adwait,” she said after allowing me to kiss her for couple of minutes or so.

“What is with you men?” She blurted irritated by efforts to squeeze her breasts. It was as if I was besotted by them. Words could not describe my fascination for her breasts and her butt itself. She was like a sex goddess to me and I felt that she always deserved the best.

“Look how bruised they are already,” she exclaimed as she removed her Salwar quickly and then untying her brassiere in a snap.

Even in that darkly lit room by lantern, I could see how reddened her skin looked. She had a few dark marks right around her areolas; almost as if Uncle sunk his teeth into her flesh. Instinctively, my lips pursed and enveloped her bruised areolas. As my teeth tried to nibble on them, Nishma urged, “just suckle them.”

“Your Uncle has ravaged them already.”

Nishma moaned as I swirled my tongue around her nipple and occasionally gently tugged on her tit with my teeth. Her nipples were quite perky for an unmarried woman or even a woman without children. She moaned in pleasure as I pandered to her needs. My hand reached into her Salwar, the knot of which she had untied subconsciously. My fingers traced the opening of her pussy. I had caressed her pussy a few times earlier with my fingers but never attempted to insert my finger into them. Funny thing was that even though Nishma was sexually very excited at times, she never encouraged me to do so. She herself did it a few times, if I recollect it correctly. Nishma’s one hand strayed to my penis, which she held in her hands lightly and gently stroked it. Nishma’s other hand moved to her pussy and after gently caressing my fingers, she proceeded to finger herself. Within moments, Nishma shuddered. It wasn’t as if she was frigging herself aggressively. Later I realized that it was just her imagination that allowed her to orgasm with very little physical manipulation.

“Oh Adwait,” she exclaimed, “I can’t wait to feel his big dong.”

“Did you know,” she said excitedly, “that your Uncle indeed enjoys a special status in your family.”

“I mean in the families that are very closely related to yours,” she clarified.

“What special status?” I asked as my ears perked up.

“You have to promise me,” she immediately responded. Her tone quite serious and businessmanly as she looked at me intently.

“What?”

“These things are closely guarded secrets of the family,” she said, “usually it is the mother-in-laws who share it but strangely she didn’t.”

“Instead it was your aunt who spoke to me.”

“Did you tell at home that we two are traveling to Uncle’s place?”

“Yes.”

“And did they know that we may stay over the night?”

“Not quite but they suspected we would due to the distance we had to travel.”

“You know,” she said after a lot of deliberation, “your mother may have talked to Aunt and requested her to explain it to me.”

“What are you trying to say?” I asked.

“Look – this may be very hard for some men,” she continued, “and hence it is kept secret from the men.”

“Do you think you can take it?”

“You are quite liberal in perhaps encouraging your wife to have such illicit relationships.”

“I never encouraged you,” I objected.

“But you did,” she quickly replied, “by not objecting to it.”

“Nevermind it is better left a secret between the women,” she exhaled.

“No – tell me,” I pleaded. Nishma was onto something that perhaps had suspected but never entertained as a real possibility. Maybe there was something that all the undercurrents that I had noticed in the presence of him. It was evident to me that I wasn’t going to like what I was about to hear. Maybe it was better left as a secret but Nishma felt comfortable sharing with me because of the unusual relationship we had embarked on before even getting married.

“Are you sure?”

There was a pause. Nishma only looked at me as her hand gently stroked my penis.

“I have a feeling,” she whispered, “that although it may hurt in the beginning, you may actually like it.”

“Adwait was your cousin’s wife pretty?” she asked after some thought.

“Why?”

“Well you were right,” she responded, “your Uncle did court her and was successful.”

“Who told you that?”

“That’s just rubbish – people just misunderstand her.”

Nishma stayed quiet but continued to stroke my penis and after a few precious moments, she whispered, “do you want to hear it or not?”

“Go on,” I grudgingly encouraged her and leaned forward to suck on her tits again. Nishma moaned as soon as my tongue flicked against her taut nipple. She was incredibly aroused as her grip on my penis tightened.

“Your Uncle was able to court her,” she went on, “it took much longer but within a year he broke her resolve.”

“What more,” she continued.

“He has possibly slept with most women you saw him interacting with.”

“That is quite outlandish.”

“Precisely,” she said.

“And that’s the reason why it has to be true,” she added.

“I don’t understand.”

“Look,” she explained, “it is easy to make small lies and pass them as truth – if telling lies were the intention then one would stay away from such exaggerations.”

“Your Aunt was only telling the truth and hence she never bothered about how it could be interpreted.”

“But why did she tell you this?”

“She never told me – I don’t think even my parents know about it.”

“Adwait,” she responded with a little bit of frustration, “you are not getting it.”

“Only the women are trusted with this secret. Men have been left out mostly. Exceptions like you are rare you know.”

“Why would all the women entertain an old hog like him?” I retorted.

“Firstly, when he started courting your aunts, he must have been quite young and secondly, he is very gifted you know,” she said as she jerked my penis. It took me a moment to realize that she was referring to his size.

“Still why would my cousin’s wife entertain him?”

“It is the tradition.”

“You know there are some tribes still in India where the newly married bride appeases elderly men before consummating marriage with her husband.”

“So you are suggesting that aunt was introducing you to our family tradition and that Uncle is your paramour for this?”

“Isn’t that strange?”

“I mean you imagining him to be the main guy allowed illicit relationship with your wife and then this strange tradition.”

“Are you serious?”

“What did she exactly say – you are meeting her for the first time after all – no one can directly jump to such conversations.”

“When we were alone – soon after meeting her – she asked me if Uncle had misbehaved.”

“Nervously I shook my head and decided to ignore his overzealous nature with her.”

“But Aunt said if he did misbehave then don’t mind it – it is to be expected.”

“I felt she was complaining of Uncle’s lecherous behavior,” continued Nishma.

“But she wasn’t – she was actually validating his behavior as normal and expected.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing – I hinted that he was trying his charm on me.”

“She wasn’t amused but only asked if I was perturbed by his direct approach.”

“She also told me that my mother-in-law already approved of him as my potential bedmate.”

“What?”

“Did your mother know that we would be visiting Uncle?”

“Yes but she didn’t know that we may spend the night. In fact I told them that I would return by night time.”

“Didn’t you ask her – why would my mother say such a thing?”

“Yes I did.”

“She said it was the family tradition and it was the duty of every daughter-in-law to mate with a well endowed stallion on a more or less regular basis.”

“The stallion was carefully chosen by the family – essentially the mother-in-law – who is closer to the family and can be trusted with a scandalous family secret.”

“More often than not it is a married man who is not particularly good looking to ensure that no other kind of bond develops between the daughter-in-law and this man.”

“You can’t be serious?”

“That means even my mother was subject to such a tradition?”

“Aunt said that your mother was more of an exception but over these years she has realized that the tradition has deep roots and must continue.”

“She didn’t have the courage to say this to me directly and hence asked Aunt to do it for her.”

“So to be honest I don’t know if your mother did live such a life or not but it is clear that she knew about it and was encouraging me to not commit the mistakes she committed by abandoning the family tradition.”

“You didn’t have a chance then – neither to refuse nor to choose another man if you wished?”

“In the olden times – the choice was made and that was it.”

“It was very common, she said, for these stallions to introduce the newly wedded daughter-in-laws to the pleasure of sex.”

“But now things have changed and the decision was left to daughter-in-law’s.”

“Aunt told me that Uncle will be pushing his luck as was expected of him.”

“I have the option to either yield or resist him.”

“Of course resisting wasn’t much of an option especially when we came here with a clear intention of yielding.”

“You agree don’t you?” she whispered seductively and pulled me into a kiss. My taut pecker of course left nothing to her imagination. Just realizing that my own mother had rolled the dice in favor of my Uncle struck a chord in me. Perhaps my feelings to be cuckolded weren’t as perverse as I used to think. It just seemed that my fate was sealed the day I was born. Nishma too was equally worked up and kissed me voraciously while vigorously stroking me. I had to contain her excitement by holding her hand. There was a subtle push from her hands soon after and I found myself gravitating to her pussy. Nishma writhed in the pain and pleasure as I devoured her pussy eagerly; perhaps she desired for Uncle’s thick penis but instead had to be content with my tongue. I must have pleasured her for twenty minutes or so when she finally started showing signs of climaxing. We dozed off soon after that. Neither Nishma nor Uncle tried anything fancy that night, although I was fully expecting them to.

We slept blissfully for a little while perhaps a few hours but soon my erect penis and pervert dreams broke my sleep. After fighting my urge for half-hour, I moved to Nishma’s bed. I fondled her bare stomach that was exposed due to her short Kurta ridng up. I imagined how her milky waist must have tempted Uncle last evening. How he may be already envisioning her belly swelling with his child. After all, it took almost no time for him to pounce on her and for her to convey her willingness to entertain him. Why wouldn’t she? If such a union was blessed by her in-laws and the stallion was overly endowed then surely any woman would entertain such a thought. But then what she described was so outrageously far fetched that I was still not able to grasp it. Even as she explained it that it was a closely kept secret between the women folks of the family made it impossible for me to find out without creating yet another scandal. Why would such young, pretty women mate with such elderly men, who weren’t even good looking? Nishma did make a reference to the size of his penis – was I really small compared to him? I gently tugged at my bulge. It looked okay to me. I soon pulled it out and wondered how Nishma gazed the size of his equipment. Perhaps she just felt it with her hands. I positioned my penis on the top of her hand, lining it up from the tip of her fingers touching my scrotum to the base of her hand. I imagined mine would reach the base of her palm quite easily. But I reached only half way with a little difficulty. Nishma was a large woman and it had started dawning on me rather gradually or perhaps I reluctantly accepted it. Most pornographic pictures that I had seen showed women inspecting very large penises in this manner. The tip would easily stretch beyond the base of her palm and onto her wrist. Maybe that’s what meant to be well endowed I thought to myself. In inspected the girth of my penis in the dim light and could clearly see wide patches of pale white palm skin of hers visible on either side; perhaps Uncle’s penis might have exposed slivers of her palms on either side.

It was evident to me that I would acceded to her illicit matings even after our marriage. Hence, there was no point making a fuss over it. If Uncle was well endowed as she made me believe it then he certainly deserved to mate with her at least a few times in reality and perhaps several times in my fantasies. And if all of this was pre-ordained then it certainly made a lot more sense for Nishma to mate with one of my family members instead of an outsider. I had heard rumours about Uncle having impregnated my cousin’s wife, although I didn’t share this tidbit with Nishma; perhaps the result would be the same in Nishma’s case.

My hands caressed her whole body and eventually rested on her breasts. She was fast asleep. It was the first time I had almost free access to her breasts. She was always sensitive about them and the reason was that it was easy for her to get sexually excited to the point of practically orgasming by simply playing with her breasts. As elaborated earlier, Nishma was a woman with big frame and even on her largish frame, her breasts looked sizeable. As my hands liberally felt her breasts, it was apparent that my hands were small enough to cover only half of her breasts. Her breasts were so soft and ripe that they almost deserved to be feasted on as Uncle had no doubt done it. I gently kneaded her breasts in a state of stupor. I could only imagine how ripe her breasts would be once she becomes pregnant. Nishma showed signs of waking up. She smacked on my hands after regaining consciousness. It was as if she was enjoying the pleasant sensations as well.

“Haven’t you tried to be naughty?” she whispered. Her hand reached to my pecker that was already close to her hand and she stroked it gently. My hands became more adventurous as they started generously kneading and squeezing her breasts. Nishma moaned and squirmed as the pleasant sensations started taking a hold of her. As my hands got rough with her, she eventually, pushed my hands away and pulled me into her arms. With one hand she grabbed my hair and pulled me in for a loud smooch. Our breaths were stale but neither of us complained as our sexual desire for each other had been simmering the whole night. She slapped on my butt with her other hand.

“Rascal – do you think you can Pervert Exploit without impunity?”

Her hand pushed my trousers away, exposing my butt and slapping it once more, she soon pushed her middle finger into my butt crack. Her kissing became languid and she played with my tongue as her finger probed my anal opening. Within moments I started enjoyed that feeling. Nishma sensed it and whispered, “don’t you like that Adwait?”

She wet her finger soon by pushing into my mouth and then used the saliva to make the massaging and eventual penetrated even more enjoyable. As her finger made inroads and was logged into my tight anus up until her second knuckle, she started working it playfully inside and continued kissing me aggressively. Nishma soon settled into a steady rhythm and alternated between kissing and massaging the sensitive part inside of my anus, which I later learned was the prostate. As the crescendo built up, Nishma started talking dirty.

“Can you imagine how Uncle’s fat penis would have felt?”

“Would you like that?”

“No,” I quickly replied in disgust. Such a thought had never crossed my mind. Yet, it was very true that I had a lot of fascination for large penises but it primarily stemmed from their ability to pleasure the women of my dreams effortlessly. My pleasure was through her pleasure and never directly.

“Perhaps you would like to taste in your mouth,” she continued.

“You are talking so vulgar Nishma,” I grunted as her finger continued massaging the erogenous part.

“Would you let him cum in your mouth?”

“No,” I revolted as I tried to push her hand away but Nishma muscled her way to keep my other hand in check. It was the first time I learned how strong Nishma was. Nishma could have easily carried me if she wished.

“Come on Adwait,” she seductively whispered, “after having pleasured your wife don’t you think he deserves at least that?”

“How bad it can be?”

My penis twitched involuntarily as it spurted semen into my own underwear. Nishma had arranged for it – anticipating my impending climax.

“That was fabulous,” she whispered and kissed me. Nishma then slid forward and took my well spent and shrunken penis in her mouth and sucked the remaining juices into her mouth. She wiped her soiled finger using a kerchief and whispered, “I think it is disgusting – let me go and clean it up.”

She stepped out fearlessly in the dark and walked to the small open cleaning place that was built right next to the kitchen. She quickly cleaned herself and hurried back in. She clung to me and slept right next to me on my bed.

“Do you really want me to perform such perverse activities with Uncle?” I asked with a hint of resignation in my voice.

“No – it was just for fun.”

“I do understand you want to give him full freedom in terms of whenever, however, and how many ever times he takes me,” she added.

After a long pause, she whispered, “just know that he is a virile man and I am fertile young woman!”

Nishma was up very early next morning. Due to my nocturnal activities I didn’t get up but Nishma had other important activities to take care of. After taking a nice bath she made hot tea for both Aunt and Uncle and of course Uncle visited her in the kitchen one more time. Nishma kissed him even more eagerly and willingly kneeled down to give him an arduous blowjob. Having cum last night he was in no hurry. She paid homage to his testicles by lathering them with her saliva and sucking on them. She practically tried everything for well over twenty minutes when even she got worried about getting caught with him in an awkward position. Eventually he did yield and after furiously pumping her mouth, deposited his semen into her mouth, spurt after spurt, practically overflowing her mouth if she hadn’t been eagerly gulping it. As expected, soon after that she promptly made way to our bedroom, where I was still fast asleep and planted her lips on mine after waking me up. She had practically gulped all the semen but I did taste the remnants.

Our fascination for semen had developed at the time when there was very little outside stimuli. Nishma was very much attracted to men’s semen – particularly other men’s but she was even more interested in giving me a taste of what she had tasted recently. There was no precedent for such a rancid behavior at that time and today we do understand that we weren’t as uncommon as we thought we were. The important part was that we both felt it was a completely normal to act the way we did even though our entire story may seem out of the ordinary.

Uncle had a smirk on his face on that day as he locked his eyes with mine a few times. Aunt was quite ecstatic having learned the progress Uncle made with Nishma in a such a short timeframe. Apparently with my cousin’s wife it took almost six months before she even let Uncle hug her. On the drive back things were quiet for a little while, so mustering courage, I broached up the subject finally, “So, Nishma are you thinking of continuing the tradition?”

She was caught off guard but she was ever ready to converse on such illicit topics.

“What do you propose Adwait?” she asked me instead, in her rather innocuous voice. There were times when she could annoy me by acting rather innocently but perhaps it was a rhetorical question. My intention was of course to understand her feelings and share mine with her.

“It is your family tradition first,” she argued.

“I am not even sure of it yet,” I replied. I was hinting about the validity of such a tradition but Nishma interpreted as my unsureness about whether to continue such a tradition or not.

“A tradition that has survived the test of time surely must have some merits to it.”

“I too had similar concerns and was glad that Aunt was there to explain me about it.”

“If it helps, we can talk about it – my only request is that you be non judgemental and keep it strictly with yourself.”

“Don’t let anyone else know about it – ever, do you understand?” she again suggested.

“Of course,” I assured her.

“Aunt explained how – like all customs that favor the men – it started as a specific favor to bestow on the male members of the family.”

“The elderly and perhaps the powerful men were very specifically offered such opportunities – to mate with the newly wedded daughter in law of the house.”

“It is not clear how the tradition evolved but the one night stand bonanza gradually morphed into opportunistic benefits.”

“You know – in those days,” she added, “even that only meant a handful of opportunities in a year!”

“Did the women really tolerate this stuff?”

“Yes they did – although the initial men they entertained were well past their prime, however, the later ones more than compensated for it.”

“What do you mean?”

“The first mates were old enough to be their grandfathers – late fifties or early sixties but once the tradition blossomed they were subjected to middle aged men, who could better capitalize on such opportunities.”

“The women in late twenties and early thirties – who were considered to be middle aged – were more than eager to mate with men in their late forties and early fifties.”

“Any kind of sex was welcome – after twenty years of marriage and several children, men usually lost appetite for their own wives.”

“You see – it was parasitic at times but largely a symbiotic relationship.”

“So the only criteria for the men was that they were elderly people from the husband’s family?”

“Yes, at the beginning, but soon it became difficult – the guilt, the constant attraction to their son’s wife, and the complexity of managing such a difficult relationship.”

“Hence – there was an introduction of slightly distant relationships to this equation.”

“But what is the point?”

“The original purpose behind the tradition is not served.”

“Precisely my question,” agreed Nishma.

“This is where nature took its own course.”

“Women realized that such a splendid tradition that afforded some solace in their married life that otherwise was mundane apart from the rigors of managing a large family and bearing children was about to slip away.”

“Interestingly, by then women had developed a taste for men and no longer aspired for the solitude of monogamy.”

“So you are saying they had multiple partners apart from their husband?”

“Yes – usually the father-in-law and his cousins; sometimes the eldest brother of husband – the frequency increased significantly after 15-20 years of marriage, which usually meant an otherwise sexually dissatisfied wife in her early thirties.”

“The chemistry often worked as well and the abundance of time on her hand made it more fruitful.”

“Isn’t it interesting?” she remarked.

“Today when we think of a characterless woman, we imagine her to opportunistically mate with other men in rather infrequent manner.”

“Yet a woman who mates with multiple men on a more or regular basis even if infrequently doesn’t project same kind of image – it’s as if she is married to multiple men.”

“Anyway, the tradition took a new meaning – the satisfaction of women that in turn keeps the men happy.”

“And this is when the role of the men in such relationship defined more clearly in sexual terms.”

“Men who knew how to take charge but more importantly in such intimate manners and who were particularly gifted in the art of love making.”

“It seems natural – doesn’t it?”

“I mean the men should be much better than the partner she already has otherwise what is the point.”

“Not just better – much, much better given the risk she runs.”

“And if the men were so much better, then they deserved even better – much younger and prettier women,” I added involuntarily.

“Absolutely – and hence the process for looking up for an appropriate daughter-in-law became even more intricate.”

“In the past – they only needed loyalty to the family, a strong sex drive, and intellect to manage such affairs privately and amicably.”

“Now – they had to be incredibly beautiful and a strong ability to procreate multiple times!”

My thoughts ran through the checklist to see if Nishma qualified as a good candidate. She of course had a strong sex drive as was evident with our rather adventurous beginning to our relationship. She was very beautiful with a body that men lusted for. Physically she was well developed and did seem to have the ability to live through multiple pregnancies. And lastly – but not the least – she had a strong desire to please the men who mattered in bedroom.

Nishma kept silent for a little while allowing me to digest everything that she shared. If any of it were true then it was quite scandalous and if all of it were true it wasn’t short of the biggest conspiracies that the families were able to pull it off for such a long duration.

We pulled over to a small joint to have dinner as we both were getting hungry. It was a small restaurant but quite deserted and remote. Nishma was getting frisky as we walked towards the dingy restaurant. She dragged me to the toilets on the pretext of having to go but then pulled me inside the ladies toilet and kissed me passionately. Her raspy breath left nothing to my imagination. The discussion had a similar effect on her as well. She mumbled to me between her kisses, “my pussy is on fire, please soothe it with your tongue.”

I knelt down in that dingy toilet and proceeded to pleasure her. She was wearing her traditional Salwar Khameez and had little difficulty in presenting her pussy for my pleasure. It was a rather quick and aggressive session for both of us as she grinded her pussy on my mouth and I in turn I tried to probe the remotest corners insider her pussy with my tongue. Very soon I latched onto her clit and sucked on it for what it was worth. She came down with a shuddering climax within five minutes. Her knees buckled and she straddled my mouth looking for support. From the top of the pussy, my tongue moved to the bottom and it was now on the perineum. She held onto me as she caught her breath. I sensed the musky odor emanating from her anus and involuntarily darted my tongue towards it. Nishma chuckled as I made a few futile attempts to reach her anal opening.

“You just can’t get enough of me, isn’t it?” she whispered, catching her breath. She delicately scooted forward allowing my tongue to reach the source of musky odor. She was clean so I had no hesitation and licked her immediately. Nishma let out a low moan in a few moments.

“Adwait,” she whispered, as I continued my task, “Uncle is very interested in my butt.”

“He would love to learn that you are prepping it for him!”

I continued to pleasure for another five minutes. Nishma gave me a loud smooch after we wrapped up. Nishma’s sexual overtones didn’t subside even though I had relieved her. She constantly played with me by massaging my bulge under the table in an inconspicuous manner. We spent well over an hour at the restaurant sampling various dishes but more importantly talking about the exciting half-a-day we spent at our uncle’s place. She divulged more during that brief interlude – much more than she wanted to.

Firstly, she reinforced the notion that everything that Aunt must have shared was completely true. She did so in classic Sherlock Holmes style by constructing a coherent picture from the tidbits shared by both Aunt and Uncle. Aunt shared that Uncle had established a similar relationship with my cousin’s wife. But Uncle shared that he managed to get her pregnant in almost no time. It took more than a year and half to score with her and Aunt was hoping that with Nishma it would be much faster. We even speculated that Uncle may have sampled my mother as well. As mentioned earlier, we had special bond with them for a long time and even after things turned sour, my mother would occasionally visit them on some pretext or another. In terms of impregnating women, Uncle wasn’t as prolific as we thought him to be. He had only one child with my cousin’s wife. Secondly, she revealed about how my mother had conducted a private interview with Nishma before we officially met. She asked her seemingly private questions about her health, her sexual health but even more intimate questions to assess her sexual drive and her knowledge about sexual activities. Nishma concluded that my mother had planned it all along and the trip to my Uncle’s place was part of a well orchestrated strategy. Surprisingly, I never felt that she ever urged me to visit Aunt and Uncle but Nishma’s confessions seem to all fit together well. Nishma was of course happy to oblige and deepen the roots of our family tradition. She told me in clear terms that she very much expected Uncle to sow his seeds with her just as nature would have intended. She even reasoned how that would keep her adventurous behavior in check as she was destined to err sooner or later – this provided a vent for her sexual hunger and longing for sexually promiscuous lifestyle.

Nishma alluded to elaborate plans on how to arrange our affairs after getting married. Uncle’s house was perhaps the best to have uninhibited sex as Aunt was practically bed ridden and access to the large house with total seclusion allowed complete freedom to them. Although they lived only a few hours away but traveling every weekend was not an option. Nishma also hinted if he could visit us regularly on the pretext of helping us with our business. Nishma was attracted to the notion as a Bee was attracted to honey.

It just seemed my fate as a cuckold was preordained.

Chapter – 5 – Realisations, affirmation and a sweet treat

My life was in a turmoil for the next few weeks. I was sexually excited at the prospect of learning my predetermined cuckold status; visualizing Nishma and Uncle having frantic sex soon after our marriage and even her getting pregnant by him. Yet on the other hand, learning my family history felt humiliating. I looked for rejecting everything that I had learned during that trip.

I looked at the plausibility of the story first. Women from our inner social circle did have plenty of opportunities and perhaps even incentive if they wanted to indulge in such affairs. Husband’s usually mansge some or other businesses and were traveling quite frequently. Yet nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I then turned my attention to my cousin’s family. He had two sons now and everyone had noted how they looked very different from each other. The elder one had a tad darker skin complexion while the younger one was very fair just like her mother. I tried very hard to look at the pictures and soon enough I could see my Uncle’s features in the elder son. Not sure if it was my mind playing tricks or there was some truth to the story. Each passing day only reinforced my initial conclusion.

Even if it weren’t true, my mind by now wanted it to be true. I would have nervous breakdown thinking about the consequences. What if Nishma too got pregnant by him and someone else was able to spot the differences. Nishma was supportive as I discussed my quandaries with her during the next two weeks. We spoke about her having extramarital sex with not just one but potentially many partners during our lifetime. This definitely had its own challenges but I was concerned about her getting pregnant by them. Even though it seemed that Nishma wasn’t stable or patient, I learned that she could listen with empathy. In her mind, it wasn’t such a big deal – as I learned about it later – but she never brushed aside my concerns as superfluous or baseless.

I have tried to condense the gist of our conversation that practically spanned across two weeks for the benefit of readers. It may seem concocted and perhaps it is because of my attempt to concisely capture our dialogue during that brief period. Keep in mind that this conversation happened much before the advent of Google; even Televisions were just making their way in.

It is also an attempt to capture the angst that a new cuckold goes through. He wants all of it to be true and yet aspires for redemption by finding that it was completely baseless to begin with. You may have read such stories where the climax of the story is the realization that it was all a dream. It is an attempt to protect the fragile ego of the readers and perhaps even the writers.

Truth is never at the extremes; it is always found in the middle, sitting comfortably in the grayest of areas!

“Nishma aren’t you afraid of social consequences?” I broached up the subject.

“What if someone learns about our clandestine activities?”

“What if you get pregnant?”

“What if someone learns the child is not mine?”

There were a zillion questions and perhaps many different ways I must have said it.

“Adwait calm down,” she responded in the most assured fashion.

“The foremost thing is that I love you. I understand that no matter how many times I say it; it just won’t be enough,” she started.

“Whether it is our family tradition or not, it seems that we would have opted for such a lifestyle eventually.”

“And if it indeed was our destiny then why fear it?”

“Why did we want this?” she continued to elaborate.

“I loved the thrill of sex – and you fantasized a well endowed man ploughing my pussy.”

“Life is providing such an opportunity – why refuse?”

“Suppose we decide to refuse – do you really think it is possible?”

“Don’t think so,” I mumbled.

“Once you start playing with fire, nothing less adventurous appeals you.”

“Adwait whether this is the lifestyle for us should be a foregone conclusion. What matters is how we orchestrate it and who we choose to entertain us as the lead characters in our life.”

“But what if this tradition was completely untrue – something of a ploy to suck us into this dark web?”

“Even if it were untrue then also it serves our purpose?”

“How so?”

“As I said, it is our realization that the traditional monogamous or rather monotonous life is not for us.”

“If the traditional structure of our culture forbids it then this tradition offers us a solid foundation for our alternative lifestyle.”

“If this tradition were true then it should be apparent that it was socially acceptable in our families – even if on the face of it everyone feigns ignorance.”

“If it weren’t true then at least we have it as cover and can claim that we did it to continue the tradition and were misled.”

“Aren’t you worried about real consequences – diseases, pregnancy?”

“I am.”

“But you don’t show it?”

“Perhaps because I have given sufficient thought to it.”

“You see,” she continued, “diseases are not a concern if we remain in the trusted circle.”

“Social stigma should be the foremost concern in mind,” she added, “when it comes to such clandestine affairs.”

“That is of course mitigated by the fact that he is from the trusted circle; even if you reject the validity of the tradition itself.”

“Pregnancy is perhaps the last concern I have, if I may call that.”

There was a little relief hearing her accede to at least one concern even if she seemed non committal on it.

“Condoms may help but aren’t foolproof,” she continued, “I mean thinking that something of his size can be found here.”

Nishma mentioned it quite casually and it didn’t even seem as if she was boasting about his equipment. She was only hypothesizing that such penises were uncommon in India. I had some guess about his dimensions but mostly it was based on her description itself. I didn’t feel it was worth arguing over. Besides I had hoped him to be well-endowed as well. Thinking of the central issue – about pregnancy – it was only relieving to learn that Nishma had some apprehensions about it. It made sense to not overcomplicate such relationships by bringing in little ones. On the other hand, we both knew, that if there was a zenith to cuckolding then it was allowing alien seed to take root in her womb

“Besides insisting on such a flimsy barriers only increases the distance between us without really offering any security.”

“I am a little old fashioned – prefer everything natural – just the way nature intended it!”

“But I am digressing – pregnancy is a concern but we are predisposed to that risk already.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Accidents can happen right?”

Even though in today’s world avoiding the use of condom can only be called stupid, the situation then was far different. AIDS was only a rare form of disease that had recently descended on the planet and we hardly knew much about about it. Condoms were a recent phenomenon. Even after the government’s persistent encouragement, to use condoms, have only 2 children and keep a minimum of 2 years between the two children, most couples practiced natural sex and perhaps tried very little to avoid pregnancy. It was common to have at least 3 children in any family and 6 was not as uncommon as it is today.

“Nishma but why would you complicate things with such considerations in an already complex relationship?”

“You are right but we are discussing possibilities here – and we can’t seriously deny such a possibility.”

“In fantasies, it was given – a privilege bestowed on the well endowed by virtue of his sexual prowess.”

“Yes but in fantasies living the wildlife is much easier.”

“True but not many are like us, who have the courage to enact them in real life.”

“And surely none has the courage that you have to let your fiance play with a stranger or lecherous uncle and actually risking intercourse.”

“You even risked pregnancy by taking me to uncle’s place during my fertile period.”

“No one could be that courageous,” she exclaimed.

“Or foolish,” I remarked.

“Living life on your own terms is a privilege that not many can afford. You should feel proud and not ashamed,” she countered.

Nishma was a free spirited person. She never let circumstances or traditions dictate her life. You would be naive to conclude that she was subjugating herself to such a demeaning role for simply carrying on the tradition. She would break most traditions in a heartbeat but not this one. She believed in this tradition and felt it was coherent with her own aspirations.

Sex was an important consideration for her. She never really confirmed if she was a virgin or not as she constantly kept on vacillating between yes and no on some pretext or another. I did learn later that she was in fact a virgin since she had no penetrative sex yet; although that shouldn’t put her in the innocent category.

Nishma had a conventional outlook towards life. She believed that it was meant to be lived fully – morality was not much of concern as this was the only life we would live; there were no favors to be reaped for the next life. Sex had a very important place in her routine – without it everything fell apart for her. I learned this soon after getting married but then I had suspected that it is simply her young hormones that were acting up. It was just wishful thinking on my part. Perhaps I am jumping ahead a little.

“What is important that you have the character to admit your strengths and weakness without having an inflated opinion about yourself – and although it may seem that you have rather inferior feeling about yourself at the moment, it is something that shall soon pass.”

“Why do you say that?”

“What strengths are you talking about?”

“You are bold Adwait,” she replied, stunned with my ignorance.

“Who would hold the hand of a woman who has lost her virginity before marriage?”

“Even then who could even admit having such perverse thoughts to their better half, so early in their life.”

“Most men die with those desires securely stashed in the deep corners of their hearts.”

“And if that were not enough, who would have the courage to live it out?”

“Unfazed by the social consequences.”

“I am concerned Nishma,” I interjected.

“Yes and so you should be. It is not something that should be taken lightly.”

“What is it that bothers you the most Adwait?” she asked in her calm voice.

We were restarting the conversation again. This happened so many times during that period as we indulged in long discussions but without resolving anything. Eventually Nishma took it in her hands and tried to pry it out from me.

“I can see a few things that are bothering you,” she continued and enumerated them.

“1. You don’t like me choosing your Uncle.”

“2. You are afraid of the consequences – pregnancy and social stigma to be specific.”

“3. You are not sure if you could handle it once everything is set in motion.”

“Is there anything else that bothers you?” she asked.

“Oh yes and that you don’t think this tradition is true – it would bug you if it were indeed true.”

It was not clear to me at that time but the truth was that it was the “social stigma” that bothered me the most. I had danced around enough and thought it was the best to be direct and talk about it rather openly.

“I agree,” I said.

“Let’s ignore the tradition aspect for now,” she started.

“You knew that I may fall back to my errant behavior, right?”

“I had only promised to try my best to curtail it but I wasn’t sure if it could be controlled,” she added.

“Yes but this is far more than what I had imagined.”

“But isn’t it because of your tacit approval and encouragement – you could have stopped everything but instead you chose to only support me.”

I couldn’t fault her logic so acceded, “perhaps you are right.”

“It doesn’t mean that your concerns are not valid but the truth is that you have paved the path to my sexual engagement with two men in less than a month’s time and yet you have abstained from having actual intercourse with me.”

“You see – it says a lot,” she emphasized.

“Needless to say that your worry about your ability to live in such a lifestyle are misplaced if not unwarranted,” she added.

Nishma had snatched the veil from my face. My initial missteps had guided her on this path – there was no turning back.

“Now,” she continued, “these things have been going for generations and if they have been successfully able to guard it, I don’t see why we should be worried about it.”

“What I did in the temple was scandalous and I admit that,” she elaborated, “but what I did with Uncle is at the best a humane gesture and at the worst an adulterous behavior.”

“He has an ailing wife for more than a decade – how much of sexual satisfaction do you think he has received.”

“But don’t you think Aunt already knows about it?” I asked.

“She does but not the complete truth unless Uncle himself has shared it with her.”

“You didn’t tell her anything?”

“Not that I gave him a blow job,” she frowned.

“She only knows that I let him romance me and that he took advantage of me by kissing on my lips.”

“Aren’t you worried that she knows?”

“Not at all,” she quipped.

“What if Uncle boasts about his latest conquest among his friends circle?”

“He is smarter than that,” she retorted.

“Why do you presume so?”

“I know so.”

“He has the best opportunity to have a young, beautiful woman practically as his wife for the rest of his life – why would he jeopardize that?”

“Sharing the secret with others puts an end to such illicit arrangements – isn’t it?”

“So you don’t think anyone would know?”

“People may learn if we do stupid things – not if we are well aware of it and preserve the decorum of our relationships consciously in public.”

“What if they talk behind our backs?”

“Which they always will – whether we do such things or not.”

“Don’t you think Uncle would suspect that I know?”

“He may and perhaps he would learn that sooner or later.”

“Does it bother you?”

“Shouldn’t it?”

“Why should it?”

“It is up to you – if you want to pretend ignorant then you can. Either way he will have some opinion that you may not like.”

“Maybe. What about getting pregnant then?”

“What about it?”

I rolled my eyes and sweared to myself on the phone. Nishma didn’t really hear it but understood that I wasn’t agreeable.

“Let’s first accept that your Uncle or anyone else for that matter who mates with me will try to impregnate me,” she said after a little though; perhaps changing her tact.

“There is no point refuting it. It is simply human.”

“Now bringing a child in this world is not an easy task and we may have only a handful of children and hence closely guarding the privilege for impregnation makes a lot of sense.”

“Exactly my point,” I added, realizing for once Nishma was agreeing with me.

“Three or four is the norm – if we really want to push then we can consider five or six but not more than that.”

We hadn’t talked about children but as a modern, educated woman, I expected her to aspire for not more than 3.

“With my age and health it should be possible to have half-a-dozen if it makes sense.”

“What we should make sure is that they have best genetic heritage that is possible,” she added.

My heart skipped a beat as I heard that. She didn’t want our children to be genetically necessarily our children; instead the very best that we could get. There was no way she would adopt a child, so it only meant replacing my genes!

“Uncle should get couple of opportunities, you a couple and perhaps one another – that much diversity should suffice.”

“Are you sure Nishma?” I asked.

“Why you don’t want any?” she retorted quickly.

“After all I love you!”

“I didn’t mean that but …”

“Listen Adwait,” she continued, “If he really is what he is and is able to fulfill our wild fantasies then I would rather treat him as my second husband and allow for all the liberties than rather lose him to some other young bimbo.”

“But we are getting ahead – let’s not worry about who it is for now but clearly understand this is in the realm of possibilities.”

“You mean getting pregnant by other men?”

“Yes but not accidentally – intentionally.”

“Accidents can always happen but I would rather risk it with the people whom I prefer,” she clarified.

There were pensive moments of silence.

“You mean to say you would like to get pregnant from the men with whom you may have affairs?” I asked hesitantly.

“No – I mean only with the men with whom I feel that strong bond and desire to be their lifelong mate.”

Even though it sounds strange, I was a little relieved. First, it just seemed that she intended to have long affairs with only a few people. And secondly, it just seemed that she would not err with everyman she meets. Contrary to popular belief, having your wife associate with very few men for prolonged periods may be a more fruitful strategy for an aspiring cuckold. It is a foregone conclusion for a cuckold that his wife would mate with potential alphas as and when the opportunity arises. More men only increase the risk on all the dimensions – diseases, pregnancy, social stigma. The biggest challenge, however, is the uncertainty it brings to your life. A husband’s wife spending a night with another man is a gnawing feeling in itself, having to worry about what this new man would do to her and your relationship with her is only making it worse. And here is where Nishma’s wisdom and intelligence had far surpassed her age.

After further deliberation, she turned to the final point of her choice.

“Adwait,” she started, “let’s not talk about him in particular.”

“It could be any other man who you don’t quite like.”

“And this is the point,” she emphasized, “the choice for a mate is solely mine – not yours.”

“This is not even something that I can clearly articulate,” she continued, “still I would like to.”

“When it comes to choosing a man with whom you spend the rest of your life – most women understand the process and the criteria very well.”

“However, when it comes to making a choice of such men with whom you only want to indulge in sex, most women fail miserably.”

“The usual criteria – good looks, charms, etiquette, social standing, etc have almost no significance.”

“I prefer – and even other women would have preferred if they knew better – a man who has the courage to court a woman with a clear intention of bedding her right in front of her husband or her family.”

“Most men fail this test quite admirably,” she added giggling.

“And women reject such men vehemently even if they were more inclined to indulge in promiscuous matings.”

“When they find such a man, who is not only well endowed but also has a little bit of character to invest for long haul then they should not resist but succumb.”

“Even if he happens to be not particularly good looking,” she continued, “perhaps I should say more so when the person is not good looking.”

“Why?”

“Because it allows you an upperhand in the relationship – a not so good looking man would treat a beautiful woman well. And perhaps may even be more inclined for a longer term association.”

“And if that man happens to be middle aged and the woman much younger then the odds of a fruitful relationship increase quite significantly.”

“Finally, if there is little complication from his side then it makes it even more promising.”

“He should be a married person though,” she added

“So you are saying that a person with all the right characteristics but ugly looking should still qualify?”

“Firstly Uncle is not ugly looking; true he is rather ordinary looking and much darker than either of us but not ugly.”

“Secondly, these principles will only aid in your selection. The eventual decision has to be made by the woman.”

“So, Nishma are you saying that you don’t consider Uncle to be quite the opposite of who we are?”

“He is very much the opposite of who we are – and perhaps that’s why the attraction between us is so strong.”

“According to the tradition, he was the chosen alpha,” she continued justifying, “but he didn’t get the same privilege from your mother. Not at first.”

“With me, however, he didn’t waste any time.”

“The way he held me the moment I ascended those steps with utter disregard for your presence, I knew that his position in your family was well earned.”

“And in the kitchen when he confidently made his move – without much regard for his perspiring body and his pungent odor, I knew that he was quite capable of taking charge of our lives.”

“And then when I noticed his very large specimen – there was no turning back.”

Nishma was absolutely smitten by my uncle. There was no other way to describe it. It was one thing to accept a liking for someone but shamelessly confessing sexual desire for their paramour was quite another. There was a human side to it as well. Apparently, despite being gifted with such a majestic equipment, his sexual life hadn’t been as exhilarating as it should have been. My Aunt had been ill and bedridden for more than a decade, so I presumed that there wasn’t much of sex life for him for the past 10 years. However, Nishma’s claim was that he had scored with my mother perhaps half a dozen times per year during that period and maybe half-a-dozen time overall with my sister-in-law. Both of these I refuted vehemently; it was rather humiliating to accept such a scandalous behavior on their part for me. Nishma was sold on the concept of making out with my Uncle on a frequent basis. She wanted to increase that frequency to perhaps half-a-dozen times every month. It just seemed fair to her that the failure of mother-in-law (and even her mother) had to be compensated by the daughter-in-law. Even though at that time I made quite a scene of objecting to her adulterous behavior both of us knew very well that this idea tremendously excited me. Nishma had thought through her future life quite carefully and I thought I understood what she had in mind but I had just begun to comprehend her grand plans.

It wasn’t her desire to pursue this lifestyle that surprised but it was her choice of the man and the way she justified it. My uncle was anything but good looking and even though she tried to describe him as plain looking, it was due to her politeness. Still her willingness to surrender herself to him stumped me. Surely, there could have been other good looking, younger men, who possessed what he did. Nishma was determined and had made the choice already.

After having elaborated on her preference for my Uncle, she turned her attention to the topic of tradition itself.

“If you don’t believe in the tradition then why don’t you wager on it?”

“How are you going to prove it?”

“That’s easy – if your sister-in-law clandestinely meets him – then would that convince you?”

Based on the history between them, I knew that there was some chemistry between the two. Such a meeting would be quite possible but I wasn’t sure if one conclude much from that.

“Not quite,” I retorted.

“How about she makes out with him passionately?”

“Really you think that’s even possible?” I replied with disdain in my voice.

“Attitude?” she casually remarked with utter disregard in her voice as well.

“May be the odds should be higher if you are so confident then,” she added.

“What do you have in mind?”

“If you win,” she said, “I will be your slut for the next 5 years – nobody touches me without your consent and if you demanded I would be completely monogamous.”

“Why 5 years?”

“Let’s be realistic – it is practically impossible for me to lead such a life.”

“What if I lose?” I asked, trying to clear my throat.

“I would be the dominant person in our relationship and lead a sexually fulfilling promiscuous life for the next 5 years.”

“If your sister-in-law only meets him – alone – but doesn’t indulge in sex then I would simply offer opportunities for him to pursue me but won’t voluntarily yield to his advances. However, the responsibility of thwarting his attempts would be up to you.”

“And if she makes out with him passionately then your Uncle would become the primary person in our sexual lives for the next 5 years. He would get to mate with me whenever he desired.”

“And finally, if she allows him to take her bareback then your Uncle – possibly other chosen men – would be allowed such a privilege with me as well.”

“If she doesn’t meet him alone then you don’t entertain him at all for the next 5 years?”

“Yes; him and for that matter any other man unless of course you would like me to,” she replied.

“Please note though,” she quickly added, “even if she meets him alone then whether she entertains him in a physical manner or not, I would allow him to romance me.”

“And just like the way he did it this time,” she continued, “if he pushes his luck, he would be able to reap the rewards unless you actively put a stop to it.”

“And if she does sleep with him then?”

“Oh then he would have a very willing partner to indulge him. I would take care of him just as a newly wedded wife would.”

“Deal,” I said confidently.

Even though I knew I would lose or perhaps I wanted to lose, I made that bet with her. Don’t get me wrong – I still hated him with the same passion but now understood that was the very reason I wanted him to take my wife and impregnate her.

Knowing Nishma, she would not have accepted the bet unless she was confident of winning it. For her to prove though, my sister-in-law had to come down for our marriage. I had heard from my parents that they wouldn’t be able to make it for some reason. I was satisfied that I had pushed my fate back by at least a year. However, to my dismay later that evening, I learned that my sister-in-law was already in India and it was her husband who could not make it. I waited for Nishma to make the move with unabated breath. I didn’t have to wait for long. She showed up that Friday – mere two days after we agreed on that wager – unannounced to our place and dragged me out on the excuse of shopping.

I wondered, how she would do it. For her to show that Uncle had taken my sister-in-law without a condom would require her to collaborate with him. Would she be willing to do that? If she was indeed collaborating then on what pretext? Did she tell him about our tacit understanding or the wager? My body was in a hyperdrive; constantly producing semen, something that I later came to understand was a natural reaction to competition. I had stiff erections all the time last few weeks; ever since we visited my uncle’s place.

As she lead me to a hotel, I managed to ask – feigning ignorance of what she had on mind, “Nishma can’t you wait until after our marriage?”

She grasped what I was saying but her mind was more on making sure that we remain inconspicuous.

“Stupid,” she quickly retorted, “it is not what you think.”

We ascended the stairs and Nishma unlocked the corner room that was just right by the stairs and closed the door behind us.

“Sit quietly,” she whispered and tiptoed to the window to peek down. Nishma hushed me as I tried to talk to her. There was an air of nervousness and excitement in her mannerism. I suspected that she was about to deliver a blow to my inflated ego. I wondered, how, she would prove it; perhaps she would show me both Uncle and my sister-in-law entering the hotel from the window. What if they were already in the hotel and were about to exit the hotel any moment? After a few minutes, she quietly tiptoed to the door and beckoned me to join her. I sauntered aimlessly to her as she peeped into the eyehole. Nishma was wearing a nice long skirt with a short and tight top on it. Since she was quite tall, she was sort of stooping down to peep, jutting her butt rather obscenely. In a rather rash move, I lunged forward and embraced her from behind, trying to align my stiff erection between the her butts. Once again, I realized how large she was. Her waist was slimmer than mine but her butt was quite wide. Since she was tall, I would have to lift myself on my toes to mate with her in that position. Usually a man would have to bend his knees if he was evenly matched to her. My hands cupped her handful breasts. Nishma was engrossed in watching the scene outside and apart from pulling my butt into her, she practically ignored my antiques. I nuzzled into her neck and kissed her. Mustering courage I started squeezing her breasts as if I was trying to milk her. Nishma seethed and pushed back against me. Our interlude was quite brief as she ushered me to look outside through peephole.

And there she was. Even though I knew who the lady was my heart skipped a beat. My brother’s wife stood outside our door or rather outside neighboring room. She was simply dressed, wearing a Saree and without any makeup, as was her nature. She checked her hair, wiped her lips and then carefully checked her breath. There was an air of nervousness or perhaps it was the sexual excitement that was delicately wrapped in feminine charm. I was seeing her after several years. She had put on a little weight but was quite slender. Her physique suited her height and she still looked attractive; I believed she was a little over thirty by then and her body although quite young clearly indicated that she was a mother of two. She was still attractive in a traditional sort of way; there was nothing that stood out in particular about her. She was short, with a frail build but a well proportioned body, pale white complexion and attractive facial features. I definitely fancied her and was hungrily trying to take in her picture. While I was lost in my thoughts observing her, Nishma was playing with my pecker.

Our next door neighbor opened the door and she nervously smiled and blushed. The person next door, which I presumed to be my Uncle, grabbed her hand and pulled her inside the room.

“Now you believe me?” she asked as I turned around.

“What does that prove?” I retorted.

“Still cocky huh?” she remarked and latched onto my lips. Nishma was quite worked up; her raspy breath and her actions confirmed that. The kiss was deep but quite short; she lead me inside to the common door that separated our room and the neighboring room into which she had stepped. I had obviously missed it completely. She removed the towel that was hanging on the door knob and urged me to peep into the next room.

It was just like the one we were in. The bed was opposite the door; perhaps a little to the right. Within moments I saw my cousin brother’s wife walk to the bed along with my Uncle. He had already got rid of her Saree and she was standing only in her blouse and petticoat. My cousin’s wife was considerably shorter and quite petite even after having stacked a few pounds. He kissed her aggressively while she undressed him. It was unbelievable!

She was pale and attractive per our community standards. Her curly hair was jet black and her lips deep red. Her tummy had bulged out a little, having delivered two kids but still was quite taut. Her waist showed the hip bones quite visibly but her butt was fleshy and very well shaped. It was her shoulders that were a little narrower than expected but her chest was quite full. While not in Nishma’s league, she was pretty!

I heard some commotion behind me. Nishma had moved behind me and whispered into my ear, “enjoy it,” and started unbuckling my trousers. I focused on the scene in front of me ignoring Nishma’s actions. My sister-in-law was in a comfortable embrace kissing him actively. Even though I had harbored strange thoughts of the women skipping on kissing him, I was surprised to see that they rather indulged him. The color contrast between their skins was arousing. Soon I saw her hand massaging his sizeable bulge as he was playing with her breasts. My attention was riveting to her breasts that were sizeable but comfortably fit in his palms. She seemed queasy as he played roughly with her but soon latched onto his lips. She was the aggressor. It lasted for a few more moments after which he let her play with his bulge. My attention drifted to his bulge that was concealed inside a loose pajama. She was lovingly petting his snake that must have poked out of his underwear but still confined in it, comfortably resting against his leg. The more I stared at it the more apparent it became. Even though I had some clue about his dimension, it was different this time as he was perhaps only 3-4 feet away from the door.

“Did you miss me?” she asked.

“Not really,” he responded rather callously. There was a smile on her face; perhaps she fully expected that response from him. Her attention drifted to his rather long penis that didn’t seem quite stiff yet but was now rearing its head.

“In case you are wondering,” she said, looking at him briefly, “I didn’t miss you as well.”

She then carefully kneeled down and untied his pajamas. His penis sprang up languidly from it – almost as if he was woken from slumber. It was semi-flaccid but already much longer and thicker than my penis when fully erect.

writer : vyasya