Divya’s newfound assertiveness and her will to try and lead a decent traditional married life started serving her well. She had effectively neutralized the hold Jose had over her. The job did mean a lot to Jose, so after that time she destroyed his phone, he decided to abandon or at least suspend his plans to bed Divya again.
He taught her driving, without making any passes at her or even making an references to their brief fling. In a few days, our fast learner heroine felt confident enough to take the driving test and got her license easily. She was given one of the many sedans the family owned to use as hers. This meant Jose exited her day-to-day life.
On to the other fronts. Divya just avoided going to Patel’s grocery store altogether. When she was told to buy Indian groceries, she’d go to one of the many other Indian grocery stores that dotted the Dallas area.
Patel was so smug and self-confident in his easy seduction of Divya that he was sure she would come back and spread her legs for him again on her own. When a few days passed by and she didn’t turn up, he got a little worried. He had not taken her phone number, so there was no way to contact her. He knew where the family lived, but couldn’t think of a discreet way to contact her without raising questions. When a couple of weeks passed without Divya returning, he started getting antsy. And every time a woman walked into his store, he’d look up expectantly, hoping it was Divya.
Kelly sent some messages in the following days. But Divya just ignored and delete them right away. She finally set a screenlock password and always made sure to clear her trash folder too, having figured out how Jose was able to access those deleted messages. After Divya stopped responding to messages, Kelly took the hint and stopped messaging her Too. She and Chad had an active sex life anyway.
Divya soon got settled in the groove of her life as a dutiful housewife. Sex with Mayank was reasonably regular at 3-4 times a week. Some days, he would last longer than his usual 5 minutes. Other days, he’d cum in 2-3 minutes.
Divya had started sucking his modest dick regularly, which he loved. But he still hadn’t made any move to reciprocate the gesture by going down on her. Divya felt disappointed by this, but was too shy and diffident to demand it. She just got used to masturbating herself when she was at home.
Pretty soon, days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months. And Divya had completed six months as a married woman. With the exception of the wild adventures at the honeymoon and the dalliances with Jose and Patel, Divya had been a good girl.
Divya was happy with herself for sticking to her resolution of self-control for all these months very easily. She had been worried that Patel would make some moves but the old man, mindful of how rich and powerful her family was, had given up on her. Mehra sent her an email saying his visa had been rejected. So that took care of that problem too. At least until she returned to India. Divya was smart enough to remember that Mehra had hundreds of naked pictures and videos of her that he had accumulated throughout their affair. And that there would come a time when she would have to deal with the situation in a permanent way. But as long as Mehra was in India and she was in Texas, all she had to do was send friendly replies to his emails and he would not get upset enough to publish those pictures and videos.
In the seventh month of her marriage, there finally occurred some developments that first started creating rumblings of unease in the state of calm.
Over that period of time, through regular conversations with Mayank and his family, Divya had come to know that the family business wasn’t as hunky-dory as it appeared from the outside. The motels they owned were losing money to competition and costs kept mounting. The import-export business was also showing reduced margins. And the cleaning and maintenance service company they owned was facing problems with employee churn. Overall, the family was okay financially. But it wasn’t growing as rapidly as ambitious Mayank wanted. He had tried to close a deal during his trips to Seattle that would ensure them of an exclusive contract with a major corporation for their cleaning and maintenance service that would allow them to expand into other markets. But the deal had fallen through.
As Divya came to know about the problems of the business, her sharp brain was able to figure out a couple of solutions. But when she had mentioned them to her husband, she had been told to focus on running the household.
Mayank was still trying to get the deal going with a couple of other similar corporations. And it was in regard to this, that he came home and told Divya one day,
“Honey, I have a meeting at the country club tomorrow with a couple of potential clients. They’ve asked me to bring you along since it’s a casual social setting.”
“Oh, is this about the multi-state contract?” Divya curiously asked.
“You don’t worry your pretty little head about that.” Mayank kissed her on the forehead and said. “Just wear a nice elegant sari and be my eye candy.”
Divya felt disappointed at being shut out of the business decisions again, but made her peace with it.
The next day, Divya, dressed in a black sari with golden sequins stepped out of the posh country club with her husband as the valet took their car for parking.
“Mr. and Mrs. Vyas?” the attractive young woman at the reception smiled and asked.
“Yes.”
“Welcome to the club. Mr. Bashir is at the tennis court. Mark here will escort you.”
Divya and Mayank followed the smartly dressed attendant through the massive and ornately designed country club. Divya had never been to such a huge place full of rich and powerful people. Although Mayank’s family was rich, they led a pretty simple life. Divya noticed that all the people in the lounges, seating areas, restaurants, and other rooms they passed through, were wearing designer clothing. She felt glad that she had chosen such an elegant sari or she would have felt out of place.
Finally they were taken to the tennis courts outside. Just a minute in the outdoor harsh sunlight of Dallas’ 45 celsius heat made Divya feel not so glad to be wearing a sari. It was scorching.
“Mr. Vyas!!” a lean tall man with a tennis racket in his hand called out as they were led to the edge of the court.
“Salam-alekum, Sheikh Bashir!” Mayank waved and said.
Divya looked at Sheikh Bashir. He was a tall wiry man in his 60s wearing crisp white tennis shorts and a crisp white polo short. She noticed that he was also wearing a red and white checkered kufiya around his head like most Arab men do. Divya first thought it looked odd with his tennis clothes, but then as her hair started feeling warm with the intense heat, she thought it was actually a smart choice.
Bashir came over and shook hands with Mayank.
“So glad you could join us.” he said affably.
“Sheikh Bashir, my wife Divya.”
“Namaste, pretty lady!” the sheikh folded his hands and smiled. Divya noticed that he had a gaunt face with high cheekbones and a carefully manicured goatee.
“Namaste.” she smiled. He seemed very charming.
“You are looking absolutely stunning in that sari, if you don’t mind me saying so.” Bashir said as he led them to some lawn chairs under wide umbrellas.
“Thank you.” Divya politely said taking a seat. Mayank sat down next to her.
“This is my personal valet Musa.” Bashir said as the young Arab who had been playing tennis with Bashir walked over from the other side of the net and joined them. “Please let him know what you would like to drink. It is a hot day.”
Mayank and Divya both told the strapping young man that they’d like iced teas and he left to get them.
Mayank and Bashir talked shop for a few minutes as Divya sat there quietly, occasionally dabbing the sweat off her forehead. She realized that Bashir was occasionally stealing glances at her and smiling. Musa arrived with their iced teas and Divya sipped on hers, feeling glad to have something cool to offset the heat of the sun that even under the umbrellas, was strong.
“…so I will need to take a look at your books. And have my accountants also discuss things next time.” Bashir said.
“Sure. I will send them over later today.” Mayank said.
The initial discussions seemed to have been concluded. The two men shook hands and smiled. Mayank seemed happy at the positive response he had received from the rich Arab.
“How about a game of tennis?” Bashir asked, reaching for his racket.
“I’d love to.” Mayank said. “But I am not dressed for it.”
“That’s not a problem. The club has a lot of clothes in the locker room for visitors. Pick out what fits.” Bashir said. “You too, Mrs. Vyas.”
Divya was taken aback. She thought the invitation to play tennis was only directed at Mayank.
“I don’t know how to play tennis.” she said.
“What’s there to know? You’ve seen it on TV, right? You know the basics?” Bashir responded.
“Yes.”
“So just give it a try. We don’t want to make you feel left-out. And it’s a wonderful game to at least try.” he was politely insistent.
“I am not…” Divya started objecting again, but Mayank interrupted her and said with a tone of finality.
“She’ll play.”
Mayank didn’t want to offend his potential client. And he knew that Arabs were generally quick to take offence if rebuffed on minor things.
Ten minutes later, the young Indian couple was back on the tennis court, having changed into the proper gear. Mayank was in a white polo shirt and shorts like Bashir and Musa. Divya had picked the longest skirt she could find, which went down to her knees. And ta white polo shirt as well. Although the shirt she picked for her body frame was a little snug around her huge tits. She was feeling a little self-conscious but did not want to disobey her husband.
Mayank loved how hot his young wife looked even in these simple clothes. How smooth her calves and shins looked under the skirt. How the sides of the skirt bounced around when she walked giving glimpses of her thighs. And how splendid her tits looked tightly contained in the white shirt. He made a mental note to have Divya buy more such clothes to model for him in the privacy of their bedroom.
Musa fetched the couple some rackets. And soon the four of them were positioned to play doubles. Bashir and Musa on one side, and the young Indian couple on the other side.
Mayank served first. Bashir hit back a simple backhand shot towards Divya. Our young heroine had never played tennis, but knew the basics. She sprinted towards the ball, stretched out her racket arm, and hit a forehand shot as hard as she could. Her boobs bounced up and down generously under the shirt. The ball flew over the net at a decent pace and landed right in front of Musa who couldn’t return it properly.
“15-0. Nicely done, Mrs. Vyas.” Bashir clapped. “Are you sure you’ve never played before?”
Divya blushed.
“Good shot, darling.” Mayank rubbed her back proudly.
Mayank’s next service was directed at Musa. He returned it powerfully towards Divya’s left. And this time she whipped out a backhand shot, surprised when it landed properly. Bashir was able to lob it over the net. Divya ran forward faster than Mayank and tried to return it but it hit the net.
“15-all. Good effort.” Bashir said.
During this point, Mayank had loved how Divya’s skirt flew a little in the back when she ran ahead of him, giving the faintest glimpse of her panties. And he loved how her big boobs swayed as well. Bashir and Musa had also noted appreciatively how alluring this young Indian beauty looked.
The four of them played a few games. Although Divya was competent at the return game for a newbie and Mayank, who had played tennis before, was quite good, they were no match for the two Arabs. Divya had trouble with the service as well, which is always the toughest part of tennis. Soon the Arabs had won all 4 games.
Throughout the game, Divya had tried her best to play well and had partly succeeded. Running around on the court, showing glimpses of her thighs and with her big boobs bouncing around, she made quite a sight. Bashir had been admiring her beauty without trying to stare too much. He felt envious of Mayank for having such a hot young wife and decided to take the opportunity to spend some time close to her.
“It’s been very one-sided so far.” Bashir said when they won the next game too. “Why don’t we mix the teams?”
“Sure.” Mayank said, happy at the opportunity to play next to Bashir and bond with him a bit more. It was sure to help his chances in the deal. But Bashir had a different configuration in mind.
“Musa, you go join Mr. Vyas. And Mrs. Vyas, you can come over to this side. I’ll give you some pointers about your service.”
Divya looked at her husband to seek approval. Mayank, not wanting to offend Bashir, nodded. And Divya walked across to the other side.
“Let me give you one pointer about how to stand when someone else is serving. See, you position yourself in the middle. Now, bend over, almost 50 degrees in the waist…”
Divya did as was told. Her breasts swung forward straining against the fabric. Bashir appreciated the close-up look and rightly surmised that they were double D. He moved his eyes to her big round butt which was jutting out. The skirt fabric shaped the contours of her hips and buttocks nicely. And now that she was bent over, her ass looked even more inviting. Bashir felt a primal urge to just start humping her right there, but he stopped himself.
“Now make sure your knees are nice and limber. So you can move in either direction. Move your hips sideways to make sure. Yes good. Now your grip.”
Divya felt a jolt of electricity surge through her as Bashir gently put his hand on her hand to correct her grip. His kufiya swayed above her head and she could smell the musky sweat of the lean tall old man. It had been months now since a man apart from her husband had come so close to her. Her body, on a diet of only Mayank, reacted greedily. But she controlled herself.
“Yes, this way. And hit the ball by moving your arm in the shoulder, not the elbow.” the charming Arab felt the smooth skin of the nubile young woman’s hands under the guise of correcting her grip. He had detected how Divya had reacted to his touch. He was pleased to note that she didn’t seem to find his touch unwelcome. He spent a little longer than necessary touching her hands and arms to give her tips.
Mayank watched from the other side as the old Arab was authoritatively giving his wife tennis lessons. He could see that Bashir found Divya attractive. As someone who knew tennis himself, he saw that the advice Bashir was giving her was correct. In fact Mayank himself could have done all that. But he saw that the touching and stroking was a little more than needed. Anyone else in Bashir’s place, Mayank would have ticked off. But the contract played on his mind. Besides, Bashir wasn’t doing anything excessive or obscene.
The newly formed teams started playing. The game was indeed a lot more competitive this way. Musa was quite good and he and Mayank established a nice rhythm soon. Bashir kept saying positive things to Divya, giving her relevant tips, and her game also improved. After every few points, Bashir would touch her again on her arms to correct some technical aspect. Bashir was also loving the fleeting glimpses of Divya’s panties and the look at her creamy thighs he got when she would run or jump in front of him.
Divya herself was having a hard time controlling her baser desires. Every time Bashir stood near her, touched her, spoke to her, something inside her cried out with happiness. He had a confident and charming personality. She could feel the strength in his arms every time he returned a shot or served the ball. And the worst part was, she found her eyes curiously wandering towards his crotch a couple of times and wondering what he was packing down there. She mentally kept scolding herself to focus on the game and not send any signals to the powerful old Arab.
“Let’s take a break please.” Divya said breathlessly. She had been sweating a lot under the hot Dallas sun.
“Good idea.” Bashir said, and led her to the lawn chairs.
Mayank and Musa joined them from the other side. Musa left to fetch everyone some drinks.
“You’re a very lucky man, Mr. Vyas. You have a wife who is not only beautiful, but also athletically talented.” Bashir said, making Divya blush.
“Thank you.” Mayank smiled politely. “Does your wife like to play tennis?”
“Which one? I have six wives.” Bashir smiled. “The youngest is 25. She prefers art. The oldest is 63. She can’t even spell tennis.”
Divya wasn’t surprised to hear that the Arab had multiple wives. She knew it was a custom in the community. However, she was a little surprised to hear that his youngest wife was 25. The old man looked fit of course, but to have a wife less than half his age seemed unusual.
As they all had drinks that Musa brought them, Mayank turned the topic to business again. Divya felt that he was making a tactical mistake. She felt he was over-selling the abilities and coming across as too desperate. She could see that Bashir was getting a little bored at the discussion. He kept stealing looks at Divya’s ample bosom. But Mayank was too engrossed in his pitch to notice.
“What do you think, Mrs. Vyas?” Bashir suddenly said.
“About what?” Divya asked, taken aback.
“Do you think a relationship between us…I mean our companies…makes sense?”
“Of course.”
“What about the specifics?” he asked.
“Whatever my husband says is right.” Divya dutifully replied.
“Hmmm.” Bashir said and took a long pause.
Mayank looked at the pondering Arab expectantly.
“Mr. Vyas, I am quite impressed with your pitch. And I also get a good personal vibe from you, which I consider very important. I see the potential, not only of giving you the maintenance contract, but I might also be interested in investing in your company and helping it expand into other markets like California and Florida.”
“That…oh my god…that would be fantastic!!” Mayank stood up, excited. This was an additional bonus.
“Yes, but I still have to do all the due diligence. It’s not a done deal yet.” Bashir cautioned him.
“Of course.” Mayank said.
“How about this?” Bashir said. “I plan to spend the weekend at my lake house about an hour away. Some of my managers and accountants will be there. Why don’t you and Mrs. Vyas join us?”
Divya’s sixth sense flared up. She had no say in business decisions. Why was she expected to go along?
“What will I do there?” she politely said. “Besides, I will have chores to do at home.”
“I insist, Mrs. Vyas.” Bashir said. “It’s a lovely lake house. I promise you that you will have a good time.”
“We’ll both be there.” Mayank replied, not wanting to let this opportunity slip because of something minor.
“It’s settled then!” Bashir said, getting up. he shook hands with Mayank.
He then offered his hand to Divya, who politely shook it. Even as she did, she felt another tiny jolt pass through her entire being.
That Saturday morning as Divya drove with Mayank to Bashir’s lake house, she felt an uneasy foreboding. She was wearing another elegant but simple sari.
Just in the couple of hours at the country club, there had been palpable sexual tensions between her and the lanky old Arab. He was clearly a very charming and skilled man, well-versed in dealing with women. After all, he had six wives! Even without doing anything explicitly erotic, he had managed to get Divya’s engine running. She felt really paranoid about what would happen spending an entire weekend with the man.
Mayank though was excited like a little child. His original plans had been to just lock up a lucrative contract. Now the old Arab had gone ahead and expressed interest in investing in his company. He knew Bashir was a billionaire. If he wanted, he could easily transform Mayank’s company into a global force to reckon with. Mayank had brought all the relevant account books and other records, in hard copy as well as on his laptop. He was hoping to seal the deal as soon as possible.
The Indian couple were very impressed at the lavishness of the lake house when they reached it. Musa met them at the door, and after handing off their keys to a valet to park, they followed him to their room.
“The Sheikh would’ve loved to be here personally to receive you.” Musa said, focusing his gaze at Divya. “But he is busy with a board meeting.”
“No problem.” Mayank said.
They put their stuff in an elegant bedroom and then followed Musa as he gave them a tour of the property. It wasn’t just a “lake house”. It was a sprawling house with extensive grounds on the banks of a big lake. The house had over a dozen rooms, and the grounds had huge lawns, woods, a stable of horses, a couple of swimming pools, and of course, a tennis court.
“The Sheikh asked me to tell you that he hopes you would enjoy playing tennis with him today as well. He has procured tennis clothes for the two of you.”
“We’d love that.” Mayank answered.
Again, Musa had directed this statement primarily at Divya. And she started feeling nervous. She couldn’t help but sense that Bashir planned to make a pass at her over the weekend. Would he do it in front of her husband?
Musa took them back to the house and to a dining room for brunch. A couple of attendants in crisp uniforms brought delicious Indian food for the young couple. They were halfway through the meal when the booming voice of Sheikh Bashir broke the quiet.
“Mr and Mrs. Vyas! So good of you to come!” he walked in.
Divya looked at the wiry Arab. He was wearing a tailored suit and on his head was his signature kufiyah. He gave her a warm smile and pressed her shoulder gently. He then shook hands with Mayank and joined them at the table.
“I hope the food is okay. I told our chef to make the best vegetarian Indian dishes he could.”
“It’s very tasty.” Mayank said.
“And you Mrs. Vyas? Do you like the flavors of whatever you have tasted so far?”
“Yes.” Divya shyly said.
“I hope you are ready for a lot more tonight. I love the taste of Indian.”
Divya thought she detected a double meaning in the sentence but Mayank didn’t seem to have noticed.
A waiter brought a plate of fruits for Bashir. He chomped on apple slices as he talked to them.
“Here’s the plan I have in mind. After you’re done eating, Mr. Vyas, you can come with me and my team of managers and accountants will go over the details of our deal. In the meanwhile, Mrs. Vyas, you have free rein of the house and the grounds. You can take a walk, swim, watch movies, or anything you like. I expect the discussions and negotiations to take all day. After that, we will have a dinner party and cocktail reception with some of my colleagues.”
“Sounds great.” Mayank said.
After the meal, Mayank carried his laptop and books and went with Bashir. Divya decided to take a walk around the property. It was huge. She loved how well-maintained it was. She took a long walk along the lake. She sat by the pool for a little bit, reading a book she had brought along. She visited the stables admiring the pretty Arabian horses. She walked a little more. Before she knew it, an hour had passed and she was still on Bashir’s property. She decided to turn back.
Divya was about ten minutes from the house when she heard the sound of hooves behind her. She turned around and saw a young Arab woman riding the horse. She was dressed in expensive looking riding clothes. When she saw Divya, she reined the horse and stopped.
“Who are you?” she asked, a slight edge to her voice.
“My name is Divya Vyas. I am here with my husband who has some work with Sheikh Bashir.”
The woman snorted derisively.
“So you’re my dad’s whore for the night?”
“Excuse me?” Divya responded angrily.
“Oh stop pretending. You know what I mean. You look just like his type.”
“Please mind your language. I am here with my husband who is a businessman.”
“They all come with their husbands. They all have businesses. They all need money. I have seen this game many times before. Anyway, have fun. Hope your husband gets enough money for pimping you out.” the woman said and rode off.
Divya stood where she was, shocked at how rudely this woman had talked to her. But she wondered if there was some truth to what she had said. Was this Bashir’s plan? To make an indecent proposal of giving Mayank the contract and the money in exchange for a night with his wife?
Divya walked back to the house in a state of mental anguish after her encounter with the woman claiming to be Bashir’s daughter. On the one hand, she could have been just lying and making stuff up, lashing out at her father as a rebellion. On the other hand, what need did she have of lying to a perfect stranger?
“Hello Mrs. Vyas.”
Divya was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t even realize when Musa materialized next to her.
“Sorry, you gave me a start.” she said.
“I apologize. The sheikh wonders if you could head to the tennis court for a game.” he handed her a plastic bag. “This has the clothes you need.”
Divya took the bag from him.
“The sheikh asked me to tell you that the bag also has a sports bra. For women with generous bosoms, it is helped to make movement easier while playing sports.”
Divya went to her room. She changed her bra. And instead of the sari, wore the shirt and the skirt. She noticed that the skirt was a lot shorter than the one at the country club. Divya considered refusing to wear the clothes and even turning down the offer to play tennis. But she didn’t want to upset Mayank, who would probably be waiting at the tennis court with Bashir.
So Divya changed and walked out of the room feeling very self-conscious. The skirt had extra pleats and it ended halfway down her thighs showing a lot of skin. Even the shirt had a lower neckline than usual. She was convinced that this was Bashir’s ploy to get her to expose herself more. As she passed a mirror, she jumped practising a tennis shot, and sure enough, the back of the skirt flew high showing her black panties.
Divya walked to the tennis court lecturing herself to not lose self-control. She had been living a chaste life for several months. No matter how much she felt attracted to Bashir or how important this deal was to Mayank, she could not allow herself to slip back into her wanton ways.
At the tennis court, she was surprised to find that Bashir was alone. He was dressed in tennis clothes and his usual kuffiyah.
“You look gorgeous, Mrs. Vyas.” Bashir said, smiling wide.
“Where is my husband?” she asked, looking around.
“Oh, he is still with my accountant going over the books. It will take him a couple of hours. My part of the work was done so I thought I’d come here and keep you company.”
Divya nodded, but was worried. Was this the time he’d try to seduce her?
She picked up the racket set aside for her and started playing with him. Bashir kept his distance, staying on his side of the court. But he loved watching this young Indian woman run around and jump, showing her panties and letting her boobs swing.
Divya for her part was getting relieved with every passing point that Bashir wasn’t trying any hanky panky.
After about half an hour of playing tennis, the two of them stopped for a break. Divya sat on a chair by the side of the court, wiping her sweat with a towel. Bashir came and sat next to her.
“You are playing really well now, Mrs. Vyas.” he said.
“Thank you…please call me Divya.” she felt really strange that a man almost three times her age kept referring to her so respectfully.
“As you wish, Divya.” he said, admiring this young Indian woman’s ethereal beauty.
Divya’s t-shirt was half drenched with sweat and the little part of her chest visible through the neckline was also moist. She was breathing heavily, making her huge tits heave up and down. And her legs, peeking out from under the short skirt, made Bashir very happy too.
“Your husband is a very lucky man.” he said, and put his hand on Divya’s exposed left thigh.
Divya froze. Bashir’s touch had sent a shiver up her spine and she instantly got goosebumps. Bashir noticed that and was happy that this young hottie was reacting to his touch.
But what was reacting was Divya’s body. Her mind was still in self-control mode. Fighting away images of how great it would feel to be under this charming fit old man, Divya put her hand on his and moved it off her thigh.
“Please, Mr. Bashir. This is not appropriate.” she said politely.
“Come on, Divya.” Bashir kept his hands to himself but said. “I can see you are clearly attracted to me. I think you are gorgeous. Our companies are about to embark on an important relationship.”
“I am married.” Divya said, partly to herself and partly to Bashir.
“So you admit that you are attracted to me?”
Divya looked into the Arab’s deep gray eyes and his chiseled face.
“That’s irrelevant. I am married.” she repeated her earlier point.
“So the only thing stopping you is the fact that your husband won’t approve? What if I can get his agreement?” Bashir tried a different approach.
Divya laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“I met a young woman on horseback who said she was your daughter. What she said matches with what you are saying.”
Divya then narrated the details of the conversation she had with the woman. Bashir heard the whole thing with his face growing increasingly serious. After Divya finished narrating the story, he said,
“So?”
“So? You are saying she is right.”
“What if she is? What if I say yes, I will invest a massive amount of money in your husband’s company if you spend a night with me?”
Divya was taken aback at how calmly and blithely he had admitted his sleazy intentions.
“My husband will never agree. He is too proud.” Divya confidently said.
“But you have no objections to doing the deal on his behalf?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll never mention it to your husband. You spend tonight with me. Just one night. And tomorrow, I will cut your husband a check worth 10 million dollars.”
Divya was stunned at the offer. The total deal Mayank had been negotiating had been worth about half a million. Even with the new investment opportunity mentioned, Mayank had been thinking of 1-2 million. And here this man was offering 10 million.
“How can I spend the night with you if my husband is here too? Won’t he suspect?” she asked.
Bashir was delighted internally but he kept a straight face. By asking the question about the practical difficulty, this woman had indicated that she was essentially okay with the arrangement.
“You leave that to me. I will come up with something that necessitates him being away. But he won’t take you with him.”
“How?”
“Leave it to me.”
“I have still not agreed to this.” Divya said. “I need time to think.”
“Take all the time you want.”
Bashir rubbed her bare thigh again and walked away.
Divya sat on the chair in the bright sunlight for a while trying to sort out her thoughts. She couldn’t wrap her head around what had just happened. She was no stranger to attention from the opposite sex in the recent past. And she had come to realize that she was a woman with a high libido and got turned on easily by assertive old men. She had obviously felt an attraction towards Bashir from the first time she met him.
But after opening her legs wide like a wanton slut for Mehra, Chad, Isaac, Patel, and Jose, she had decided to reform herself and exercise self-control. She had made a vow to be a loyal dutiful housewife and not give in to the attention from other men. So no matter how much her body reacted to the flirtatious and charged touches from Bashir, she was sure that she wouldn’t give in.
But this latest quid pro quo offer changed the complexion of things.
Divya was committed to spending her life with Mayank and that meant working towards building the Vyas family business and taking it to new heights. She admired her husband’s enthusiasm and dedication but wasn’t sure he had the canniness required to take the business to great heights. But the infusion of 10 million dollars in cash would certainly help. It came at a steep price though. Spending a night with Bashir and breaking her resolution of no longer straying outside her marriage.
Divya’s decision making was further complicated by the fact that she felt so very attracted towards the charming lanky Arab. Something about his kuffiyah-wearing personality which was a combination of exotic conservatism and bold aggression made her feel something down there. The fact that he had six wives, including one just a couple of years older than herself, added further to the taboo allure of the man. She knew that if she had met Bashir six months ago during her slut phase, she would have been out of her clothes and under him within an hour.
But now things were different. The naked humiliation at the hands of Patel had made her rethink her ways. But this time, there was so much more at stake. Her family’s well-being, her husband’s dreams, possible lifelong prosperity. And the price was…just one night.
Divya kept weighing her decision all day.
After she returned to her room from the tennis court, she showered, and then lay in bed thinking. She closed her eyes and imagined how it would be to get fucked by Bashir. She found her hand moving inside her panties. But then she stopped herself. No, this was wrong, she decided.
Then there was our hero Mayank. He had been through a rough day. After Bashir’s initial warm and friendly attitude, Mayank had expected the discussions and negotiations to go smoothly. He was surprised then when the whole process turned out to be a lot more arduous and challenging than he expected. Bashir’s managers and accountants were very demanding and harsh. They almost shredded every aspect of Mayank’s business plan, questioning his cash flow projections, risk assessments, cost estimates, and so on. Mayank felt like he was a student again, answering harsh oral examination questions.
To make matters worse, the affable Bashir had left the meetings in an hour or so, leaving him alone with the rude and hard-nosed managers and accountants. Mayank had been forced to make several phone calls back to his office for clarifications. And he had to work extra hard to even convey a sense of confidence to those vultures.
Finally at about 7 PM when the meetings ended, the managers and accountants looked skeptical. They said polite stuff but Mayank had no hope in hell of even getting the original contract, forget getting an extra investment.
As the tired young man walked back to his assigned room carrying his documents and laptop, he was met by Musa.
“Mr. Vyas, how are you?” the young Arab asked.
“Not bad.” Mayank feebly replied.
“The sheikh has asked me to give you this to hand over to your wife.” Musa said. “It’s a designer sari the sheikh procured as a gift for your lovely wife in appreciation of how nice she has been.”
“Okay, thanks.” Mayank took the gift wrapped box.
“We will have a small dinner and cocktail party in the main living area in about half an hour. The sheikh hopes to see you and Mrs. Vyas there. it would be nice if she could wear this sari.”
“Sure,sure.” Mayank absent-mindedly replied, walking away. He was exhausted and hoped to be able to lie down for a while before the party.
Mayank returned to the room to find Divya taking a nap. He woke her up, and handed her the box, conveying Bashir’s message.
“How did the meetings go?” she asked.
“Not good.”
“What happened? Did they question your cash flow projections?” Divya had a good grasp of financial accounting from her college days and when she had heard the details of his proposal earlier, she had expected objections about it.
“What do you know about cash flow?” Mayank testily replied. He had been grilled for hours about that very point and was bugged that his small town Indian wife was also bringing up the same topic.
Divya felt hurt but said nothing.
“I am going to take a short nap. Why don’t you get ready in this sari?” Mayank said, plopping down on the bed.
Divya took the gift wrapped box and went to the dressing table. She took the clothes out of the bag, and was a little surprised.
“Listen.”
“Whaaaaat?” Mayank said, annoyed. he had just about fallen asleep.
“Are you okay with me wearing this tonight?” she asked.
“Yeah, it’s a gift from Bashir. He’ll feel offended otherwise. And it’s a sari, not a bikini. Stop being such a prude and wear the damned thing.” he almost yelled.
Divya was annoyed by her husband’s testy attitude. She had been nothing but patient. But he kept snapping at her. And now, well, he was the one who usually had problems with revealing clothes. She had after all walked stark naked in the view of multiple people. If he felt this dress was appropriate, then so be it.
Mayank woke up after half an hour to the sound of the telephone in the room.
“Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Vyas, but the other guests for the party have arrived.” Musa’s polite voice said.
“Yeah, okay. We’ll be down soon.”
Mayank rubbed his eyes and sat up. And when he looked at his wife who was sitting on the bed next to him, he was taken aback. His mouth opened wide and his eyes almost popped out.
Divya was wearing a sari for sure. A bright red sari with sequins. But it was worn very low, just about resting on her hip bone, showing her navel and most of her midriff. And her red blouse had a very low neck showing about 3 inches of her cleavage. And the blouse was a backless one, with just 3 red strings holding the whole thing together in the back. her smooth creamy skin was on full display in the back.
“Wow!!” Mayank said, struggling with the conflicting emotions of pride and arousal at how hot his wife looked at conservative resentment at the fact that his wife was showing so much skin.
Divya saw her husband wake up and saw the look of fiery lust in her eyes. That made her feel admire and assured. A thought inside her head said, all you need to be happy is this man. Who cares if the business is worth 1 million, 10 million, or 100 million? At that stage, she almost decided to turn down Bashir’s offer.
“You look so…wow!” Mayank reached over and embraced his wife, burying his face in her exposed cleavage.
“What are you doing?” she giggled.
“Tasting these lovely tits!” he replied.
Mayank made Divya turn away from him and stared at her bare back covered with just those few strings. He started kissing her back hungrily. Mayank felt an erection developing and was about to strip his wife naked when.
KNOCKNOCKKNOCK!
“Hello, it’s me, Bashir.” the voice outside the door said.
Divya hurriedly went and opened the door. She was met by the sight of Bashir dressed in traditional Arab garb. A white full length robe that reached down to his ankle, and a brand new red and white kuffiyah on his head held in place by a gold band.
“You look beautiful, Mrs. Vyas.” he said politely and planted a peck on her cheek. Even that peck made Divya’s pulse race.
“Sorry, Sheikh Bashir. I just got back from the meetings and took a nap. We’ll get ready and come down soon.” Mayank said, coming to the door.
“It looks like your wife is ready. With your permission, I will accompany her to the party while you get dressed.” Bashir said.
“Absolutely.” said Mayank, without suspecting anything.
The door closed behind Divya as she was led by Bashir to the party. In a low whisper, he said to her,
“So have you made your decision?”
“Yes. I think I am happy with my husband.” she said.
“You think? You’re not sure?” Bashir said and chuckled.
“You know what I mean. While your monetary offer is very generous, I don’t think what you’re asking for is something I can do.” she said, steeling her resolve. Bashir was wearing an expensive cologne that was having an effect on Divya.
“Are you sure?” Bashir asked, running his fingers over Divya’s almost-bare back. The goosebumps came out again, making Divya shiver.
“Please.” Divya whispered, summoning every ounce of will.
“Okay.” Bashir shrugged and said.
Downstairs, he introduced her to the dozen or so people who had gathered there. They included his managers, and a few other business associates. Musa was always around to check if Divya needed anything. Mayank got ready and came down wearing a suit in twenty minutes. He and Divya then circulated around the room, talking to a lot of hi-fi people.
Although there were a few other pretty ladies at the party, almost all male eyes were checking out Divya. The bright red sari contrasted her creamy white complexion very well. The backless choli drew many glances too. And the short petticoat under the sari meant it had to be worn low and Divya’s smooth flat midriff and navel also drew many looks. Besides, there was her ample cleavage, which was visible no matter how she arranged her pallu. Only her mangalsutra was able to hide some of that alluring skin.
A lot of expensive booze was being served at the party. the sheikh himself wasn’t having any, since he didn’t touch alcohol. But Mayank was loving the endless stream of expensive single malt. Even Divya ended up having some booze without realizing it. She asked the bartender for an iced tea and he thought she was asking for long island iced tea. Divya drank it, assuming the weird taste it had was something herbal, not realizing it was alcohol. She had only had alcohol once before in her life.
At dinner, Divya was seated between Bashir and Mayank. Mayank was a little drunk and was flirting with a woman seated next to him, a manager from Bashir’s firm. Bashir kept slowly caressing and touching Divya throughout dinner under the guise of conversation.
Finally, dinner ended, and the party moved to the lounge area for dessert and more drinks. As everyone got to leave, Bashir cast one long look at Divya’s cleavage and said,
“Mr. Vyas, would you mind joining me in my study for a little while? I have some business to discuss with you.”
“Of course!” Mayank replied, slightly tipsy.
As Divya and the rest of the guests were led to the lounge, Sheikh Bashir took Mayank to his study.
In the study, Musa handed Mayank a glass of scotch and Bashir a cup of Arabiata coffee.
“Mr. Vyas, I have spoken at length with my people about the soundness of your business proposal. They thought you were very helpful in answering all the questions they had. And wanted me to convey their apologies in case they were too harsh.”
“Not at all.” Mayank said, taking a sip of the expensive brandy.
“So I have some bad news and some good news.” Bashir said.
“Oh.”
“The bad news is…their recommendation is that I pass on the deal. Not just the 2 million dollars investment but even the basic contract. They are not convinced your company is big and competent enough.”
Mayank just clutched his glass hard and frowned.
“And what is the good news?” he asked bitterly.
“The good news is, you have a gorgeous wife.” Bashir said.
Mayank was taken aback by this non sequitur.
“What does that have to do with anything?” he hotly asked.
Bashir got up and looked out the window silently for a couple of minutes. Mayank sat in the chair waiting for some response.
“Are you a betting man, Mr. Vyas?”
Mayank was an inveterate gambler as we all know.
“Yes.” he replied, unsure of where this was going.
“Then I have a proposal for you. It might seem strange so I request you to hear me out completely before you respond.” Bashir said.
“Go on.”
“I am very attracted to Mrs. Vyas. And I believe she is very attracted to me as well…”
“No way!” Mayank derisively snorted.
“Excuse me?”
“I can understand you finding my wife attractive. Everyone does. No offense, Sheikh Bashir, but there is no way my 22 year old wife is attracted to you. No offense.” Mayank said, taking another sip of the scotch.
“I see. Well…that’s where the betting element comes in. I would like to wager that I can seduce your wife and bed her. Tonight, under this very roof…”
“Hahaha..” Mayank started laughing at the very idea.
“Please hear me out as I requested.” Bashir testily said. “As I said, I am incredibly attracted to her and would like to bed her. I believe that if you weren’t around, she would welcome my advances. So here’s what I propose. You consent to give me a shot at seducing your wife. That’s the bet. If she rebuffs my advances, you win the bet and I will sign the contract and give you a 10 million dollar gift for your business.”
“What if I refuse?” Mayank asked, still trying to process this offer.
“If you refuse, then I will accept my managers’ recommendation. We have no deal. You can enjoy what remains of your scotch, take your wife, and go home. And have a good life.” Bashir curtly responded.
Mayank was in two minds. He could see the dollar signs in his eyes. But this old man was asking for permission to seduce his wife. Then again, there was 10 million dollars, which was way more than he expected.
“Okay, what if I consent to let you try…and you succeed?” Mayank asked this even as he thought how remote the possibility was.
“I will still sign the contract and give you the money. But the money won’t be a gift. It will be an investment with a share of the profit.” Bashir said.
Mayank thought about this. The way he saw it, it was a bet heavily stacked in his direction. If he gave Bashir the permission to make a move on Divya, and she turned him down, he got 10 million dollars easy. Even if, by some really remote possibility, she did give in, he still got the money as an investment. And he could just kick Divya out for infidelity, and marry someone else. It had been only a 6 month long marriage. Other than her looks, he wasn’t too attached to her anyway.
“So what do you think, Mr. Vyas?”
“I see merit in your proposal. But I have a few questions.”
“Go on.”
“How can I be sure about whether my wife gives in to your advances or not?”
Bashir picked up a remote and turned the TV screen on. It showed multiple screens being recorded by close circuit cameras. On one of the screens, he could see Divya making polite conversations with the guests in the party. Bashir clicked another button and the screen was filled with a shot from an ornate bedroom.
“This is where I will take her. You will be in a room where you can see the whole thing as it happens, live. So there will be no question of subterfuge. Or any suspicion of coercion.”
“Fair enough. Another question is, how do we come up with a scenario in which I am not around?”
“I have thought of that too. We will tell your wife that you have to travel with my lawyers to their office in Dallas to finalize the deal before midnight. You will appear to leave but Musa will take you to the back entrance where you will be escorted to a room with a live feed of whatever is happening.”
“You have thought of this in great detail, haven’t you?” Mayank said, a little resentful.
“I am a meticulous planner, Mr. Vyas.”
“Okay, deal.” Mayank stood and shook the billionaire’s hand, confident that no matter what happened, he was set for life.
Half an hour later, the party had started dispersing and the guests started to leave. Mayank told Divya the rehearsed lie about having to go to the lawyer’s office in Dallas. Divya didn’t say anything to Mayank but in her mind, she thought about whether this was something engineered by Bashir to take a chance at her. In fact, she was sure of it.
Musa then drove him to the back of the house, and led him to a bedroom with multiple TV screens. One one screen, he could see a shot of Divya and Bashir sitting in the lounge with a couple of guests and talking, maintaining a respectable distance between them.
“The feed right now is for the living room. When they move to the bedroom, I will switch it to that feed.”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen.” Mayank laughed confidently.
Musa shook his head slightly and stayed silent. He had seen Bashir play out many versions of this game in the past. And it always followed a similar pattern. The husband was always confident that his wife won’t give in to the old man. And then got increasingly despondent when she did.
“Would you like a drink, Mr. Vyas?” Musa asked, opening a liquor cabinet in the corner.
“No, I am okay.” Mayank replied, watching the screen.
“I think you might need it.” Musa poured out a tall scotch neat and left it on a table next to Mayank.
On the screen, there was still the image of Divya and Bashir seated in chairs talking with the last remaining guest. The conversation was just mundane small talk. Finally the guest left, leaving the young Indian wife alone with the old Arab. Mayank watched and listened carefully.
“There was no need for Mayank to go to Dallas today, was there?” Divya asked, a little testily.
“Not for the contract, no.” Bashir enigmatically said. “Have you given any thought to my proposal?”
Proposal? What proposal, thought Mayank.
“Yes, and I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Divya replied trying to sound confident, although she was feeling very tempted.
Bashir got up from his chair and stood behind Divya. He gently put his hands on her shoulders and massaged them, saying,
“Think about it. Ten million dollars. For just one night. And your husband will never know.”
Mayank stood up instantly.
“WHAT THE FUCK!!??” he hotly said heading for the door. “This is cheating! He is pressuring her with the money. That’s not what was originally agreed. I am going there and putting a stop to this.”
Musa stood between him and the door.
“Please sit down, Mr. Vyas.”
“Get out of my way.” Mayank said, trying to shove Musa.
But the strapping young Arab was physically much stronger. He effortlessly grabbed Mayank by the shoulder and pushed him back to the bed.
“Mr. Vyas, I have been told to not let you interfere. Now that you have agreed to this, you need to let it play out. And I assure you, I can easily overpower you and even knock you unconscious if you don’t cooperate.”
Mayank looked at the burly Arab and realized there was no way out of the room. He turned his attention back to the screen.
Divya was sitting on the chair looking tense. She had moved Bashir’s hands off her shoulder once but he put them back.
“Please…don’t.” she softly said, partly to her own body which was starting to respond to Bashir’s touch.
“Twenty million.” he said, slipping his hand to her bare back and caressing it, while also looking at the hidden camera he knew Mayank was watching through.
“Why are you doing this?” Divya was on the verge of crying.
Bashir bent down and with his lips, gently nuzzled Divya’s ears, making shivers run down her spine.
“Fifty million.” Bashir said and with his hand, softly turned Divya’s head sideways. “Fifty million dollars as a gift. For just one night with you.”
Mayank was enraged sitting there, but he was also conflicted. If he really got fifty million dollars, it would change his life completely. And if Divya did accept the proposal, he could just dump her and move on. A part of him actually started hoping that Divya would give in.
Divya was really torn. She was feeling extremely aroused at this charming handsome Arab’s machinations. She was also being offered enough money to turn her family’s fortunes completely around. And most importantly, as far as she knew, Mayank would never find out. She was staring into Bashir’s gray eyes with her mouth slightly open as she pondered all this.
Bashir, sensing an opening, leaned in further and placed his lips on Divya’s lips. Divya shuddered at the firm grip he had on her shoulder and how gently his lips were feeling on hers. She found herself responding. She moved her hand to the kuffiyah on Bashir’s head and kissed him back.
Mayank watched in amazement as his young hot wife locked lips with the old Arab in his 60s. She had given in. It was over. With one kiss, it was over.
“Whore.” he said angrily.
“Mr. Vyas, I suggest you don’t watch things any further.” Musa said. “It will only cause you more distress.”
Mayank ignored Musa and kept watching. He reached for the glass of scotch and took a big gulp to calm his shaky nerves.
The kiss was passionate and long, lasting for almost two minutes, before Bashir broke it and stood up. He offered his hand to Divya who took it and let him lead her to his bedroom. Mayank watched with conflicted emotions as his wife submissively followed the tall old Arab through the corridors of the house.
Musa picked up the remote and hit a few buttons. Soon four different screens lit up with a view of the bedroom Bashir had shown him earlier. There were high resolution cameras on all four walls, pointing at the bed and the space around the bed. Mayank would have a 360 degree view of his wife being ravished by the Arab.
Divya walked into the bedroom holding Bashir’s hand, a tornado sweeping through her mind and her loins. She wanted this to happen now. The slut in her that had been kept dormant for several months was starting to break through. And any semblance of self-control had long since washed away.
Bashir took Divya to the side of the bed and then turned around to face her. He then got down on his knees and gently started kissing Divya’s stomach, midriff and navel, with his hands on her bare waist. Divya’s smooth white midriff looked so inviting over her low worn sari. She closed her eyes as waves of pleasure started surging through her body started from her stomach. She felt her pussy getting wet as Bashir’s lips and facial hair rubbed all over her midriff.
Divya’s eyes closed and her hands moved to Bashir’s head, stroking his kuffiyah and his shoulders. Bashir was glad to note that the young Indian woman was also starting to enjoy this dalliance.
Mayank watched spellbound as the charming old Arab nuzzled, kissed and licked his wife’s torso for a good five minutes or so. Throughout that time, Mayank noticed how Divya’s face appeared flushed and her breasts started heaving a lot. His wife was actually enjoying this, not just doing it for the money.
Bashir then got up and made Divya sit on the edge of the bed, facing sideways. He sat down behind her and gently licked Divya’s bare back through the strings holding her backless choli together. Divya shivered again. Mayank watched horrified as he saw her hand reach behind her and feel Bashir’s crotch which had a substantial bulge by now.
The old Arab kissed and nibbled at the young woman’s smooth skin for several minutes as he undid her blouse in stages. First he opened the knot behind her neck, kissing her neck and nape passionately. Then he used his teeth to skillfully undo the knots of the strings of the choli one by one, very gradually. He then moved one hand to her front and gently massaged her huge breasts over the fabric of the blouse as he moved to the final string at the bottom.
Divya was sitting bent over on the bed as her husband watched on the screen how the blouse was completely undone. Bashir then moved both his hands to her shoulder, and kissing the nape of her neck, started rolling the choli off. It fell forward with her pallu, making her breasts swing forward. Divya instinctively moved her hands to hide her breasts. Mayank sought some little solace in this gesture, thinking that at least his wife had a smidgen of shame left.
Bashir moved his hands to her chest. He slowly pried her hands away from the boobs, all the while kissing her neck and back skillfully. Divya’s loins were by now wet and fully on fire. The fire only increased in intensity as the old Arab’s strong hands started massaging her boobs and playing with her nipples, which Mayank noted were fully erect. There was no question that his wife was actually enjoying cuckolding him. It was for 50 million dollars but still. How shameless.
After five minutes of making out in this position, a topless Divya got up. Bashir looked at her appreciatively as she got on her knees in front of him and started rolling his robe up. Mayank watched horrified as his wife hungrily fished out an 8 inch long and obscenely thick dick out of satin underwear. She then bent forward with her mouth wide open and started sucking the head of the big cock. Bashir put his palms on the bed behind him and sat back, watching his latest conquest, a 22 years young Indian housewife, give him head while topless on her knees.
“You’re a natural cocksucker.” he said.
Divya blushed and just sucking his dick hungrily.
Mayank felt the food and drink in his stomach welling up as he watched his wife’s young lips wrapped around the cock as it went in and out of her warm mouth. He saw the obscene sight of the blowjob from all four angles. As if to magnify Mayank’s disgust, Musa pressed a button and all four screens zoomed in on Divya’s face as it got fucked by the old man’s huge dick.
“I need to puke!” Mayank got up, putting his hands on his mouth and rushed to the bathroom.
Musa smiled and shook his head as he heard retching sounds of the cuckolded husband coming from the bathroom. Musa turned his attention back to the screen and watched how the gorgeous young Indian was enthusiastically pleasuring his employer. Musa hoped that he too would get a blowjob from Divya as he often did from the other wives that had been completely degraded by his sheikh. Bashir would order them to pleasure Musa, occasionally even fuck him, and the wives were to much in his control to not follow the orders.
“Cough! Cough!” Mayank came out, and saw that the scene hadn’t change much. Except that now, Divya was also sucking Bashir’s huge balls, occasionally spitting out a pubic hair or two.
“Your wife is very talented.” Musa said, admiring her technique. “You have taught her well.”
Mayank looked completely beaten. He was struggling with a cocktail of emotions. He felt humiliated, emasculated, but also turned on to see his beautiful young wife suck the old man’s dick like a professional whore.
In the bedroom, Divya sucked the cock for a good ten minutes until it was completely hard and wet with her spit. She then felt ready to move on to the next stage. She got up and started unraveling what remained of her sari.
Mayank felt like his marriage was unraveling with every layer of the sari that came off. He could scarcely recognize the woman who then deftly unknotted her petticoat letting it fall to the floor. The sight of his wife in only her panties lasted barely a second as she peeled them off and got on the bed on her back.
Musa marveled at how this always seemed to be how things went. Later, Bashir would be very dominant and aggressive, but for the initial seduction, he always waited for the wives to make the first move. And they invariably did, mesmerized by his cock.
The sheikh got up and slipped his robe off, standing naked except for the kuffiyah on his head. His erect monster cock curved slightly upward, seeming like another limb jutting out of his crotch.
He stood and surveyed his latest conquest, the gorgeous young Indian who was now naked on her back on his bed, with her legs open, her hips shuddering and her mouth whimpering in anticipation.
Divya was feeling randier than she ever had. All the pent up sexual energy that had barely been spent in 6 months of being faithful to Mayank, was bursting at the seams. Her pussy was wet and waiting. She needed this magnificent cock inside her and she needed it now.
As a gesture to Bashir to enter her, she put two fingers inside her cunt and then licked them. Mayank was unable to comprehend how slutty his demure wife was being.
“I wonder if she’ll be able to take it. Judging by the size of the tent in your pants right now, I don’t think she has ever been stretched too much.” Musa said, unaware that Divya had taken bigger dicks.
Mayank realized that he was indeed rock hard at the sight of his wife being seduced by the old man. It had stopped being about the money for any of them now. Divya and Bashir were just entranced in an animalistic dance of sex. And Mayank was too fascinated to look away.
“Feel free to pleasure yourself if you want. Don’t let my presence stop you.” Musa said.
Mayank shook his head as Bashir got on the bed on his knees. The wiry Arab then bent forward in his waist and positioned the tip of his huge dick at Divya’s cunt entrance. Mayank didn’t know about Chad and the others, so was surprised at how easily his wife’s labia parted and accommodated the huge dong.
“ARRHHHHHHHHHH” Divya grunted, sounding like an animal as her starving pussy finally got some real meat.
Bashir was pleasantly surprised at how easily this young woman accommodated his huge cock. With most other women, it would take him about five minutes of gentle rocking to get it in. Divya’s cunt had enveloped him within seconds.
He bent forward until his kuffiyah was covering Divya’s face and then he started fucking the young woman in deep deliberate strokes.
“YESSSSSSSSSSSS!!” Divya hungrily said, and wrapped her legs around the Arab’s naked waist and pulled him in deeper.
“How about that? She took it easily. I didn’t peg your wife to be so experienced.” Musa said.
“She’s not. She was a virgin when she married me.” Mayank bitterly said.
Musa was about to say that then she must have been sleeping around after marriage, but decided against it.
Both men stared at the screen with rapt attention as the sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room. Divya moaned and grunted at every stroke, and Bashir kept stepping up the pace of the fucking until his ass was a blur pounding against Divya’s crotch.
“Should I turn it off?” Musa asked holding the remote.
“What?” Mayank asked absent-mindedly, looking at how the curve of his wife’s buttocks on the bed parted and showed her asshole being touched by Bashir’s balls.
“Do you really want to keep watching?” Musa asked.
“Yes.” Mayank said.
“As you wish.”
Musa could never understand why the husbands kept watching their wives getting fucked in detail even after the initial seduction had happened.
He stayed silent and watched with Mayank as Bashir fucked the young woman in rapid hard strokes.
Mayank marveled at how long Bashir was able to keep fucking his wife at such a rapid pace without cumming. He himself barely lasted 5 minutes. A part of him said that his wife was actually getting the good proper fucking that a gorgeous woman like her deserved. But another part, while turned on, still felt resentful about it.
After fifteen minutes of fucking in that position, Bashir took his dick out.
“On all fours, bitch.” he said, slapping Divya’s ass.
The young Indian housewife had just had the most incredible fucking in the last few months. Even as she got fucked and revelled in the pleasures of carnal bliss, her brain was also parallel processing the realities of who she was. No matter how much she tried to control herself, she was essentially just a slut.
She obediently got on her knees and ankles, swaying her big round white ass in her lover’s face. Bashir got behind her, looked at one camera and smiled evilly as he put his hands on her waist and entered her gaping cunt again.
Mayank watched horrified as his wife’s big tits rubbed back and forth against the bed sheet at this Rockygy style assault. His eyes fell on the mangalsutra that he had tied around her neck being squelched under her tits. She was moaning and groaning with pleasure, clearly enjoying what was happening.
After a few minutes, Bashir moved one hand to her hair and pulled her head back with a hard jerk, making her cry in pain. With his other hand, he grabbed her ankle and lifted one leg up until it was sideways along her torso And then he resumed his assault on the young woman’s cunt, lowing it with everything he had.
“FFAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACKKKK!! I AM CUMMINGGGGGGGGGG!!” Divya hollered and started quaking.
Mayank watched what for him was a new sight. Although Divya had had countless orgasms with other men, none of them were with Mayank. So for him, the very fact that she could have an orgasm was a revelation. The sight of her actually hollering and convulsing through it was too much for him to handle.
“Uhhhhhhhh.” Mayank said as his balls emptied a decent amount of semen into his underwear. He had achieved simultaneous orgasm with his wife. It just so happened that someone else was doing the fucking.
Musa looked at the young Indian man’s wet crotch. He had seen this happen before too. Husbands spontaneously orgasming while they watched Bashir ravish their wives.
“You can clean yourself up.” Musa helpfully said.
Mayank walked back to the bathroom in a daze. Five minutes later when he came out, the fucking was still in progress, but in a different position. Bashir was sitting on the edge of the bed with his legs on the ground. Divya was riding him facing away from him, her massive tits flopping up and down in the same rhythm as her mangalsutra. Her big round ass looked so obscene bouncing up and down on the old Arab’s slim thighs.
Mayank slumped on the bed defeated and stared at the screen. For the next fifteen minutes, he watched his wife holler through three more orgasms as she and her geriatric lover tried different positions. The one Mayank found the most obscene was when Bashir pummeled her cunt holding her by the legs on the floor while she supported herself on her palms, like a wheelbarrow.
After what seemed like an eternity, Bashir finally shot his load into his wife’s well fucked cunt, leaving her whimpering and slobbering on the bed with the juices running down her thighs.
Mayank watched defeated as his wife lay there with half closed eyes, staring at the ceiling, with an obviously blissful look on her face.
“Should I turn it off?” Musa asked.
“Leave it on. I want to see what else my slut wife is capable of. I will need to document it all in the divorce filing.” Mayank said angrily.
“For your own sake, I advise you don’t watch anymore. It will be even more unpalatable.”
“What do you mean?”
“She is not the first woman the sheikh has bedded this way and she won’t be the last. I can tell you exactly what will happen next if you keep watching.”
“What?”
“She is exhausted, so she will go to sleep naked, cuddling with the sheikh. But he has woken up an animal inside her. What will happen next is that in an hour, maybe two, she will wake up refreshed. And then she will be the one initiating the sex. Do you think you could handle that?”
“That won’t happen.” Mayank said, trying to convince himself.
“It will. Regardless, my job here is done. So I am going back to my quarters. If you need anything. call the night staff by hitting zero. I will see you in the morning.”
Musa left as Mayank sat on the bed watching as Bashir climbed on the bed and cuddled with his wife, just as Musa had predicted. They fell asleep soon. Mayank however couldn’t sleep at all. And kept staring at the screens.
Mayank was passed out drunk when Musa came to wake him up in the morning.
“The sheikh would like you to join him and his concubine for breakfast.” Musa said, opening the curtains.
It took Mayank a few seconds to realize that he was talking about his wife.
“She is not his concubine. She is still my wife.” he said testily.
“So did you keep watching?” Musa asked.
“Yes.”
“And was I right?”
Mayank didn’t say anything.
“How did she wake him up when she initiated sex? With her hands or her mouth?”
“With her mouth.” Mayank angrily said. He had watched horrified as Divya woke up, got on all fours, and started sucking Bashir’s dick. He then woke up and fucked her again in several positions for an hour, making her cum multiple times.
After that when Divya went to the bathroom, Bashir had picked up a remote and turned the cameras off. Mayank didn’t know what had happened since but he had fallen asleep for a couple of hours.
Mayank got ready and followed Musa to the dining room. Bashir was sitting at the head of the table with a plate setting in front of him.
“You asshole.” Mayank angrily lunged at him, but was easily restrained by Musa who forced him to sit down at the other end of the table. Musa stood by him with a firm hand on his shoulder to prevent any more outbursts.
“Where is my wife?” he angrily asked.
“She is getting us breakfast.” Bashir calmly said. He was dressed in his traditional garb again. He slipped an envelope across the table. It came to a stop at Mayank’s fingertips.
“What is this?” he asked.
“The price of your integrity. A banker’s check for 50 million USD as promised.” Bashir said.
Mayank tore the envelope open and looked at the check. It seemed genuine. At least he had gotten the money he had made this hellacious trip for. Now all that remained was to fetch his slutty wife, take her home and divorce her cheating ass.
“There she comes.” Bashir said.
Mayank’s eyes almost popped out of their socket when he saw his wife. He tried to get up from the seat but Musa easily held him down.
The woman who walked in with a tray in her hand looked like Divya. But seemed like a completely different person. She was wearing a black hijab wrapped around her head, with only her face showing. the hijab ended at her shoulder. Under that, she was wearing only a skimpy red apron. And was naked other than that. Her naked ass was in full view of everyone, including Musa and a couple of other servants milling around. And half of each breast was spilling out from the front of the apron.
Without making eye contact with Mayank, she put a plate of meat and eggs in front of Bashir. Then, staring at the floor, walked towards her husband and placed a plate of vegetable sandwiches in front of him.
“DIVYA!! WHAT NONSENSE IS THIS? GET DRESSED AND COME HOME!!”
Divya kept her eyes on the floor and walked back to where Bashir was. Then taking her apron off, and fully naked except for the hijab, she sat on his lap. Her ample buttocks spilled over the side of the sheikh’s thighs and parted, exposing even more of her to the servants.
“She is home, Mr. Vyas.” Bashir said. “She was lost until now.”
“Divya, I am warning you.” Mayank said, seething under Musa’s grip. “Get off that man’s lap and come here. And take off that ridiculous scarf.”
Divya still couldn’t make eye contact. She whispered something in Bashir’s ear. He nodded and slipped another envelope, a bigger one, across the table.
“What the fuck is this now?” Mayank asked, opening the envelope.
“Divorce papers.” Bashir calmly said.
The revelation hit Mayank like a ton of bricks. She was the one who had cheated on him. He was the one who should be divorcing her, not the other way round.
“What????”
“You yourself told Musa that you’d be filing for divorce. This just makes things easier.”
Mayank sat there, processing everything. His naked wife with a hijab on this old Arab’s lap. The fifty million dollar check. The divorce papers. He put his hand on his throbbing head and said,
“Is he forcing you to do this?” Mayank asked.
Divya didn’t say anything.
“ANSWER ME, YOU WHORE!!” Mayank thumped his fist on the table.
“NO!” Divya loudly said and looked up and met her husband’s gaze.
“But…why?”
“What do you care? You have your money.” Divya finally found the voice to talk back to her husband.
“But Divya…I…he…he tricked me! And you! He told me that…”
“Yes, I know everything. He came clean in the morning. He showed me a tape of the conversation you had with him in the study. And then told me that you had watched the whole thing on cctv last night.”
“Divya…I tried to…”
“Yes, Musa told me you tried to stop it all. But it was too late, Mayank. Once you decided to whore your wife out for money, you can’t take it back.”
“And what about you? Didn’t you do the deed initially for money, you slut?” Mayank spat out the last word.
Divya looked at Mayank with a sad smile.
“You mean it as an insult. But you have hit upon the truth. I am a slut. That’s the epiphany I have had today. I have been denying who I am for ages. I thought I could deprive myself of my needs for the sake of this marriage. For the sake of a loving husband. But if the husband himself decides to be like Yudhishthir betting his wife for monetary gains…then what was I even fighting for?”
Mayank was shocked to hear his wife talk in such clear and concise terms. Here he had come planning to dump her. And she was dumping him. And saying the most incredible things.
“Divya…come on…you’re not thinking straight.” he said, second guessing his original anger. “This isn’t you. He manipulated us. And one night spent with him for the sake of the family doesn’t make you a slut.”
“You’re right. It doesn’t. Giving naked blowjobs to the net cafe owner back in India was what first made me a slut.”
“WHAT??”
“Remember that snorkeling trip? While you were out exploring the reef, I was getting fucked by the boat captain. And loving it.”
“Nooooooo…” Mayank felt a deep gorge forming in his stomach.
“After your drunken night in the casino, I had a threesome with Chad and Kelly on the beach. Then walked back naked in the view of dozens of guests. If you hadn’t cut our trip short, who knows how many others would have mounted me like a randy bitch.” her voice was so calm.
“Divya…you’re lying just to hurt me.”
“I was lying, Mayank. Lying to myself when I thought I could reform and make it work after coming to Texas. But you know who fucked me here before I even met Sheikh Bashir?”
“…” Mayank had no words.
“Your driver Jose.”
“Nooooooo…” Mayank’s head was spinning at these revelations.
“And Patel, the grocery store owner who fucked me in his store room while I sucked off half a dozen of his employees.”
Mayank covered his face with his hands and started crying.
“Stop.” he finally said.
There was silence in the room except for Mayank’s sobs for the next few minutes. Finally he picked up the divorce papers and started signing them.
“So what now…you’re his new wife?” he bitterly asked.
“Not necessarily.” Divya said, putting her arm around Bashir’s neck. Her huge breasts swayed elegantly.
“And what’s with the hijab? You’re converting?”
“No. This was just something for a roleplay.” Divya unraveled the hijab and threw it on the table making her thick hair fall around her tits.
“You’re not welcome back once you realize what a huge mistake you’re making.” Mayank said, signing all the sheets of paper and getting up.
“I realize that.”
As Mayank gathered his things, Bashir beckoned Musa over and whispered something in Divya’s ear. She nodded. When Musa stood next to her, she opened his pants and fished out a dick just as thick as Bashir’s. And she wrapped her lips around it.
Mayank watched his wife giving the servant a blowjob, spat in disgust, and started walking away.
“Mayank.” Divya took the dick out of her mouth and said.
He turned.
“I am sorry. I really am. But this is for the best.” she said, still gripping Musa’s dick.
“Fuck you!”
“Goodbye!”
Mayank turned and walked out of the house. His naked ex-wife sitting on an old Arab’s lap with her huge tits swaying as she sucked another Arab’s dick being the last image he ever saw of her.
THE END ———
Epilogue
And that brings us to an end of the detailed story of Divya’s degeneration from a traditional demure Indian housewife to a wanton slut.
For the sake of closure, here is what happened with the main characters subsequently.
Mayank had a tough time dealing with the fact that the beautiful demure wife he had married and brought home from India turned out to be a total slut. He threw himself into the business, using the fifty million dollars he got from Bashir to expand his business. Once Mayank was able to decouple the Divya angle from his business dealings, he found Bashir an intelligent and influential partner. Mayank’s company grew fourfold within two years and was eventually one of the biggest companies in the service industry in the South West of America.
Jose had already given up on hopes of bedding Divya again. He heard the rumors that she had run away with someone else and wasn’t surprised considering how slutty she was. He sent her a couple of text messages to see if he could hook up with her but got no reply.
Patel kept staring at the door of the grocery store for months waiting for Divya to come back. She did come back once to shop for some stuff to cook an Indian meal for Bashir. But she was accompanied by the imposing looking Musa so Patel didn’t have to courage to make a move.
Chad and Kelly always found other sexual partners to have their threesomes and dalliances with. Their marriage, built on total honesty and mutual love and respect, is still going strong.
Isaac eventually replicated his experiment of fucking Divya underwater with many other vulnerable tourists and local women.
Mehra who had set this all in motion eventually got to bed Divya. She knew she owed him a debt even though she didn’t have to. She also felt a sense of gratitude towards him for unlocking her true self. She asked Bashir to use his connections to get Mehra a US visa. Mehra spent a week with Divya in the US, fucking her to his heart’s content. He had the time of his life and Divya also enjoyed the eventual consummation of their strange bond. He promised her he had deleted the pictures and videos he had. She told him she didn’t care anymore. But he still has copies and often peruses them to jack off in his office. Hoping for another invitation from his biggest consequest.
Sheikh Bashir was very happy with how the whole situation worked out. In Mayank, he found a good investment and made a lot of money with him. In Divya, he found a voracious slut ready to try pretty much everything.
In the month or so after that fateful night, Bashir, Musa, and a few of their friends and servants had several romps with Divya who stayed at the lake house. She got fucked every which way, including anally and double and triple penetrations, swallowed gallons of cum, and had hundreds of Orgasms. She once went two full weeks without a stitch of clothing on her. Bashir had bedded many sluts but even he was impressed at Divya’s stamina and appetite.
Bashir eventually got bored with Divya and had to get back to his family and multiple wives. He was a generous guy though. He offered to make Divya his wife too, but she turned him down. She was not wife material and would never be, she told him. So as a “severance package”, he bought Divya an apartment in the city of her choosing, which turned out to be Las Vegas. And he gave her a million dollars to do with as she pleased. He offered many times that amount but Divya said a million was more than enough.
And finally our heroine Divya. She had come to terms with the fact that she was a complete and total slut who could never be tied down to one man. She embraced her sexual appetite. When her parents and extended family came to know about what she had done, they broke off all contacts with her.
Divya moved to Vegas and used her mathematics skills and eidetic memory to seriously take up poker. She took part in several poker tournaments, earning a lot of money, and sleeping with any man or woman or men or women she took a fancy to.
At last count, her net worth thanks to her poker winnings was over 10 million dollars. And the count of the number of men and women she had slept with was about to touch 100.
By hornynri