*beepbeep* *beepbeep* *beepbeep*
My wife’s cellphone buzzed and rang multiple times to announce the arrival of several text messages as soon as she turned the phone on after the pilot announced it was okay to do so.
“So Shipra.” I said icily, “I guess those are all text messages from Jeff?”
Shipra ignored me and her fingers worked the keyboard furiously as she replied to the text messages.
“Only two of them.” Shipra said once she got done. “The third was from my sister saying Chintu is doing fine.”
“And what did Jeff want? Some recipe perhaps?”
Jeff was our neighbor and “friend” back in New Jersey. He was divorced and lived next door, and lived with his son who was the same age as Chintu – 6. I had started off liking Jeff when we moved into his neighborhood a year back. He was friendly, his son and Chintu got along very well, and he seemed genuinely helpful. Which he still was.
What had started bugging me was that he and Shipra seemed to have become a little too friendly. Shipra was a stay-at-home mom, having quit her job in banking as soon as we had Chintu. And Jeff had a catering business which he managed from his house, and even when he had to be away, it was usually for dinner services at nights or on weekends. So when I was at work and Shipra was home, usually, so was Jeff. And Shipra often told me that he came over or invited her over to talk about recipes and food, a topic Shipra had gotten really interested in of late.
“No, Pavan. He just texted the address of a restaurant he recommends. And wished us both safe travel and a great vacation.” Shipra replied.
“You know what’ll make my vacation great? No texts from Jeff.” I said as I pulled our handbag from the overhead compartment.
“Pavan please. Don’t start.” Shipra shook her head and slid out from her seat.
After this mini-tiff of sorts, both Shipra and I were silent as we made our way off the plane, got our luggage from baggage claim and took a taxi to the Venetian – a posh casino-resort. I waited for her to break the ice, convinced that I was right in being suspicious of Jeff. I was convinced that he had the hots for my wife, and was working slowly but surely to get her into bed. If, that is, he hadn’t already.
Over the past few months, I had noticed a change in Shipra’s appearance and demeanor. Usually her attire was pretty standard – jeans or trousers, with modest t-shirts or blouses, and frumpy sweaters. After Chintu’s birth, Shipra had gone from a very fashion-savvy and spiffily dressed young woman to the archetypal suburban mom. But recently, I noticed she was wearing skirts more often, with tank tops or blouses with a low neckline. She was back to dressing the way she used to 7 years ago when we met and started dating in Bombay. And I wondered if this sudden change had anything to do with her friendship with Jeff. Although I was glad of the occasional throwback to our initial days together.
I found myself staring at her a little longer than appropriate. She obviously noticed, looked right into my eyes, and flashed me a dazzling smile. And that was all it took to get me hooked.
I waited a few weeks before doing anything though. After all. Shipra, a fresh MBA 24 years of age, was 15 years my junior. I was touching 40, and although I worked out regularly to keep my body in shape, the gray was beginning to show at the edges of my hairline. I was still unmarried, thanks to a long long relationship that ended abruptly 5 years ago. I still dated casually, and got plenty of action – a good looking, tall, well-built successful banking executives in his late 30s does not find dating difficult in a city like Bombay. But most of the women I had dated had been my contemporaries. I had never even thought about going after someone in her mid-20s.
Until Shipra walked in that door.
Although she got assigned to my division, I kept things strictly professional. I could see that she was getting a lot of attention from guys her own age, something she seemed glad and adept about handling. But i did get some fairly strong signals from her of her interest in me. She would compliment me on my looks, ask me about my taste in music, movies, and books. And try to spend a lot of time talking about things other than work. And she kept talking about how she wanted to “settle down” but all the guys she met were too “immature”.
In six months, I was convinced she was the love of my life, and proposed. She accepted readily. Her parents were a little displeased that she was marrying someone so much older than her. But I charmed their pants off, and all was well. We were married, and soon Shipra was pregnant. After Chintu was born, Shipra told me she had no interest in going back to work. She had never really been too career-minded, she said, and was simply living out the dreams of her modern and demanding father who believed her intelligence was too rare to waste.
Soon, we settled into a happily married lifestyle, raising our son together. Shipra had a lot of close friends in Bombay, many of them male. And her close friendship with them did rankle me a little bit. In other words, it made me insecure. Initially I stayed mum. But after I turned forty, my body began catching up with me. My stamina for sex was diminishing by the year. When we started dating, we had sex at least twice every night. Around the time Chintu turned two, it was down to twice a week. And of late, it was down to barely once a week.
The decline of my prowess did play a role in my insecurities growing. There were a couple of her male friends, young, good-looking, handsome, that I particularly felt insecure about. They were married too, but it still bothered me that they were so friendly with Shipra. We started having arguments about it. Shipra always dismissed my concerns saying I was being paranoid. But I knew my wife was hot enough to make anyone sin. I also knew she had had a fairly colorful past, sexually speaking (the details of which are another story). So I knew that she knew she had options. And that drove my insecurity and caused more arguments. These arguments became the norm for the next few years.
One day, a head-hunter called me up out of the blue, saying I would be perfect for a position that a Wall Street bank was looking to fill. It had always been my dream to work on Wall Street, and I had no hesitation applying. I got the job quite easily, and soon, we moved to New York.
The move was a source of some tension between Shipra and me. She was not so sure she wanted to move to a new place, leaving her friends and family behind. She wanted to “discuss” it. But i was in no mood to listen. Surely she should understand what a rare opportunity this was for me. I wasn’t getting any younger, and who knew when…rather if, such a chance would come by again. Eventually Shipra agreed, and we moved to America.
We got a big house in suburban New Jersey, in a good school district. Shipra’s initial apprehensions gave way to enthusiasm about living in the greater New York area. Chintu certainly loved it, especially the tradition of Halloween trick–or-treating which he could not believe existed. And soon we were a happy family again. Shipra did complain occasionally about feeling lonely. To be honest, I was relieved that all her male “friends” were thousands of mile away.
But then Jeff had slid into the picture.
Jeff was roughly the same age as Shipra. Very handsome. I worked out to keep my body in shape. He clearly worked out to give his body shape. He had well toned abs, arms and a chest, which he loved displaying in the summer months. His striking good looks, coupled with his charming personality, convinced me that he was a threat to be mindful of. But when I raised the concern, Shipra again accused me of being too controlling and insecure and jealous.
One summer day when I came home from work, I saw a scene that made me lose my cool. Nothing scandalous, mind you. The two boys were playing in the backyard. A few feet away from them, sat Shipra and Jeff on lawn chair, drinking beer. Jeff was only wearing a pair of cut-off denim shorts, the sweat glistening on his chest. Shipra was wearing a short skirt and a tank top. And they were laughing and talking.
Like I said, nothing scandalous. But watching Jeff, all muscled and toned and sweaty, joking with my relatively scantily clad wife pissed me off. Shipra had put on a few pounds since Chintu was born, but the extra weight had been distributed evenly. She still had a fantastic figure which had gone from tall-and-curvy-but-slender to simply tall-and-voluptuous – 36DD-28-38. She looked like a million bucks sitting in the lawn chair. But I was more pissed off at Jeff’s overtly hunky appearance than I was attracted to Shipra’s knock-out looks at that moment. I yelled at Chintu, asking him to come inside. The tone of my voice was enough for Jeff to take a hint, and he took his son and went home. And Shipra walked in, looking confused.
That night after Chintu went to bed, we had one of the most acrimonious fights we’d had. I accused Shipra of leading Jeff on. She told me my paranoia was reaching historic levels. We argued back and forth, until she said,
“Pavan, don’t take this the wrong way, but don’t you see your insecurity is stemming from your…..troubles in bed? I keep telling you to see the doctor. There are drugs…”
“So you’re saying I should take Viagra or you’ll fuck him? Is that it?” I exploded. I had been having troubles down there, but I knew it was more because of stress than anything. I certainly had no desire to walk into a doctor’s office and tell him I was having trouble getting it up.
“What?” Shipra said, confused.
“Or have you fucked him already?”
Shipra slapped me in anger. I pushed her to the bed and stormed out of the room. I went to a nearby bar and had a couple of drinks. When I came back, Shipra was already asleep.
Over the next few days, we both calmed down. I apologized to Shipra saying I had been out of line. Shipra said she understood my concerns and would tone down her rapport with Jeff, if it bothered me so much. And a few days later, i surprised her with my plans for us to spend a long weekend in Las Vegas. Just the two of us. Shipra’s sister who lived in Philadelphia had agreed to take care of Chintu while we were away.
Now back to Vegas.
After we reached the Venetian, I finally broke my silence and mentioned how pretty the casino looked. Shipra also looked impressed and pointed out a few beautiful decorations in the lobby. We checked and went to our room.
This was my first time in Vegas and I was really looking forward to hitting the blackjack tables. So as Shipra went to the bathroom for a quick shower, I changed into some smart casual wear to hit the casino floor. I got dressed, turned the TV on and waited for Shipra. She walked out, her hair wet, clad in a bathrobe.
“Get dressed quickly.” I said. “Let’s go to the casino floor.”
Shipra slowly walked towards me and sat down on the bed. She put her head on my shoulder and ran her hand over my cheek. I could feel heat radiating from her just-showered body. I turned and kissed her, slipping my hand into her robe, fondling her massive breasts. I felt her wet hair touch my ear. Shipra slowly pulled me down to the bed, and I was on top of her. I opened her robe and started kissing her boobs and fingering her clit. She started moaning and squirming as I continued playing with her. A minute or so later, she started unbuttoning my shirt.
That’s when I got up off the bed. Shipra looked at me, with a quizzical look on her face.
“We should…” I said, buttoning up my shirt, “we should go check out the casino.”
And I ran to the bathroom. In there, I unzipped and tried to coax life into my dick. The only reason I had interrupted that very hot session was that despite my best mental efforts, an erection refused to form. I sat on the edge of the bathtub and started jacking off my dick. But to no avail. A few minutes later, I gave up, flushed the toilet to make it seem like I had gone to pee and walked out of the bathroom. She was right. I did need to see a doctor. I decided to make an appointment as soon as I got back.
Shipra had gotten dressed when I was in there. She was wearing an elegant knee-length wrap-around skirt and blouse with sequins. She flashed me a bright smile, but I could see the disappointment in her eyes. I thought of saying something about the performance issue, but instead she said,
“So you’ll have to explain to me exactly how blackjack works.”
“Oh, it’s easy. It’s all about getting as close to 21 as possible…” I was glad for the change in topic and spent time explaining the game’s rules to her.
On the casino floor, we had a lot of fun. We first spent some time at the blackjack tables. I made 4 grad while Shipra lost roughly the same amount, leaving us even. We then watched the action on some of the poker tables, a game I liked but was not confident enough to gamble in. We then hit the slots. By dinner time, we had made a small profit. We had dinner at a swanky Italian place on the strip. Our spirits were high. This really was turning into the vacation we wanted. We called up Shipra’s sister and spoke to Chintu before deciding to take a walk on the strip.
As the evening wore on, I could not help but notice how smashingly sexy my wife looked. Tall, voluptuous, and with a beautiful face, she drew second and third glances from most men on the street. By the time we got back to the Venetian, I was feeling a stirring in my loins. We got into the elevator, and as soon as the door closed, I pulled Shipra into my embrace and kissed her. She kissed me back hungrily as I pawed her spectacular butt. An erection began forming and she could obviously feel it on her thigh.
“Ooooh Pavan! In the elevator? Naughty!” she said between our kisses.
“I can’t help it. You’re just so….” I breathlessly started but was interrupted.
*beepbeep*
Shipra froze for a second, but continued kissing me.
“Check who it’s from.” I said.
“It can wait.” she said and tried to pull me back into a kiss. That’s when the elevator reached our floor and the doors opened.
“I said, check who it is from.” I was feeling rage build up again.
Shipra took her cellphone out of her purse and looked at it.
“Is it Jeff?” I asked.
“Yes, but Pavan, he’s just…” Shipra started saying. But I stormed out of the elevator.
I opened our room, turned the TV on and sat on the bed, looking very pissed off.
“He’s doing it just to ruin our vacation.” I said in an angry voice.
“No Pavan.”
“Shipra, I want you to text back in caps – NEVER TEXT OR CALL ME AGAIN”
“Come on Pavan. Don’t be silly.”
“Shipra, DO IT!!!” I yelled.
She looked at me with tears in her eyes and a confused look on her face.
“Are you going to do it or not?”
“Pavan, please. It’s so unnecessary. And rude.”
“Fine. I am going to sleep.” I said, and started changing.
The next morning, neither of us made any reference to the fight last night. It hadn’t been much of a fight. I changed into my night shorts, took a couple of Night Tylenol pills and was soon asleep. Shipra had been sobbing most of the time that I was awake. We had breakfast at a small diner and then decided to ride the tiny gondola in the hotel. We then went back to the strip, and checked out the other casinos – Bellagio, Caesar’s, MGM Grand etc. Our conversations were mostly pleasant and cordial. Both of us were waiting for the other person to apologize.
We decided to have lunch at the Venetian’s poolside restaurant. Shipra said she’d like to go upstairs and change. I asked what she wanted to change into, and her response was, a swimsuit. Despite the coolness between us, I smiled. I had not seen Shipra in a swimwear in several years. It would be a visual treat for sure. The swimsuit actually turned out to be a yellow bikini that went fantastically with Shipra’s white complexion. It wasn’t too skimpy or anything. But any bikini would have trouble containing her massive boobs. And her voluptuous perfectly shaped round butt looked great in the yellow bikini bottoms. She looked positively fuckable and if I had not been carrying the grudge from the previous night, I’d have jumped her right away. But for now, I just changed into swimming trunks, and wore a t-shirt.
Shipra tied a matching yellow sarong around her waist and we went to the poolside restaurant. We got a table right by the pool, and I could see that Shipra was getting a lot of admiring glances again, from men and women alike. I was particularly amused by an old bald white man who was swimming laps gradually, and whenever he was close to us, would slow down and check Shipra out blatantly. I don’t think she noticed though.
I was only halfway into my main course when Shipra announced she was full, and wanted to get in the pool. I simply nodded and continued eating. Since she had just eaten, she couldn’t really swim too much, so she just did a couple of different strokes at the end of the pool close to me. As she did the backstroke, I could not help but feel a surge in my pants at the way her huge tits struggled to break free from the bikini.
As I looked away from her, I noticed that the old bald white man was splayed on a pool chair on the other side, again blatantly staring at my wife. I also noted with a chuckle that he was wearing a speedo – not something suited for his old paunchy body. He noticed me looking at him and smiled at me. I looked away and back towards Shipra who had now waded to the other side of the pool.
The old man got up from his chair and walked towards the edge of the pool. Standing up, he looked even more ridiculous in his speedo, with his paunch flabbing over it. I did however notice momentarily, before looking away, that the crotch of his speedo was massive, as if hiding a football. Must be an enlarged prostate, I thought myself. The old man dove into the water with a clumsy splash and started swimming. I watched curiously as he swam towards Shipra. And he said something to her. She responded with a polite smile and said something.
They were about 30 feet away from me so I couldn’t hear what was being said. But the expressions on his face were very lecherous. I found the idea hilarious that such an ugly old man was actually even thinking of chatting up someone as gorgeous as my wife. She was used to the attention of hunks like Jeff, after all. I was sure she’d slip away from him politely very soon.
“Sir, would you like to take a look at our dessert cart?” I heard the waiter say and I looked away from the pool. The dessert cart looked interesting. It had a chocolate souffle which I knew Shipra liked. So I ordered it for her and a cheesecake for myself. The waiter made some small talk with me and put the dessert on the table and left.
I looked back and was surprised to see that the old man was still chatting up Shipra. She seemed to have an amused expression on her face and was saying short sentences herself. The conversation seemed to go on and on. Now she would occasionally giggle! I decided to put an end to the pathetic old man’s desperate flirting attempts, so got up and walked towards the side of the pool they were at.
“Shipra!” I called out over the din of kids playing nearby. She was about 10 feet away from the edge. She looked at me. “The dessert is here. I ordered you souffle.”
Shipra nodded and glided through the water towards me. I noted with annoyance that the old man swam after her.
“What did you say?” Shipra put her elbows on the edge and asked me.
“The dessert. I ordered you…”
“And who might you be? Her father?” the old man came to a stop in the water right next to Shipra and interrupted me.
“Hehe..I told you he’s my husband!” Shipra giggled. “Pavan, meet Alan.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Alan reached out his wrinkly hand towards me and I bent down in the waist to shake it.
Alan grabbed my hand firmly, and without letting go, said,
“So you’re the lucky son of a bitch who gets to take this gorgeous little pixie home every night huh?”
Gorgeous little pixie? This old geezer was at least a couple of inches shorter than her. I snorted a little and tried to free my hand. But Alan’s grip was surprisingly strong, and I found myself standing there crouching at his mercy.
“Why did a spicy bombshell like you settle for an old fart like him, huh?” Alan said and started cackling. Still grabbing my hand. My ears went red with rage and embarrassment. I looked at Shipra who actually had an amused expression on her face.
“Hehe…I don’t remember actually.” she said and started giggling.
Finally Alan released the vice-like grip on my hand. It relieved me, but only temporarily, because he put that arm around Shipra’s shoulder and pressed it gently, and started cackling loudly.
I noticed him put his arm around her but Shipra either didn’t notice or ignored it on purpose. She was still giggling. I was on the verge of jumping in the water and kicking this old man’s ass. How dare he touch her in front of me? They had just met! But I resisted my instinct.
“Shipra, the dessert.” I said in an annoyed voice.
She nodded and Alan finally took his arm off her shoulder. Shipra put her palms on the side of the pool and pooled herself out of the water. As she got out, I saw Alan staring at her butt rather shamelessly and with a smile on his face. I walked back with Shipra to our table. She took her seat and so did I. And, a few second later, much to my consternation, so did Alan!
“Yeah, their souffle is the best.” he said, moving his chair right next to Shipra’s. “I have eaten at the most expensive restaurants in this country. And the souffle here is the best.”
“Is that so?” I sarcastically asked. I found it hard to believe that this uncouth old geezer was an expert in fine dining.
“Oh yeah, I’m loaded. Got a dozen real estate companies all over the country.”
“Really?” Shipra asked in what sounded like an awe-struck voice. And that annoyed me even more. The old man was clearly trying to impress her with talk of his wealth and she was buying into it!
“Yup! Ole Alan’s got a lot of cash in case you ever wanna leave this old fart.” Alan said and winked at Shipra who started giggling again.
This was the second time he had called me an old fart and it was beginning to piss me off. I might have been close to 50, but this geezer was close to 70, if not older. Where did he get off calling me an old fart? And why the fuck was my wife laughing at his boorish comments?
“Yeah, ole Alan knows all about livin’ it up in Vegas. In fact, why don’t I take you to dinner to a real fancy place tonight? And then some fine cocktails?” Alan said looking at Shipra, and then without looking at me said, “Ponaav, you can come too.”
I was sure he had mispronounced my name on purpose. But before Shipra could say anything, I said,
“Sorry, but we’re busy tonight. We have a lot of plans. Right, Shipra?”
I expected Shipra to concur with me. But instead she was silent, and was looking at Alan with an odd expression on her face. That caused an awkward silence.
“Right, Shipra?” I said a little louder.
‘Oh..umm…what’s our plan for tonight?” she asked.
“You mean you ain’t got plans?” Alan said, turning around to finally look at me. “It’s settled then. I’ll see you two in the lobby at 8!”
I glared at Shipra, expecting her to turn him down. Instead, she said,
“Okay, 8 it is.”
“Splendid.” Alan said stroking Shipra’s bare shoulder. “See you then, little pixie. Bye Ponaav.”
“It’s Pavan.” I said in a brusque voice.
But he acted like he hadn’t heard me. Instead he slowly got up, and while he slid away from the chair, his crotch moved just inches away from Shipra’s face. I noticed Shipra’s head turn at once as she looked at the enormous bulge in his speedos for a split second and then looked away. I thought I heard Alan chuckle as he walked away.
I was fuming silently until we got back to the room. Once we entered the room, I let loose,
“What a slimy pathetic old geezer! Why the fuck did you accept his invitation?”
“You could’ve said no.” Shipra said calmly, unwrapping her sarong.
“I did. But you gave him a chance to put his foot in the door.” I yelled.
“Come on, Pavan. He’s just a silly old man. What harm can it do?” Shipra said, walking towards the bathroom. I thought I detected a hesitant tone in her voice.
I started saying something in return, but I heard the bathroom door slam shut. A few moment later, I could heard the shower being turned on. So I turned the TV on and sat on the bed watching it. It was over twenty minutes when Shipra finally stepped out of the bathroom wearing a bathrobe.
“Pavan, did you notice Alan’s…. you know….swimming costume?” she asked in mischievous tone.
“Huh?” I feigned ignorance although I knew exactly what she was referring to.
“You know, the size of it? You probably didn’t notice. It was huge!” she said with a curious look on her face.
That pissed me off even more. I have always considered myself reasonably well-endowed at 6 inches. But whenever I read about men with really big dicks, I wonder if women care about it. Shipra had never before mentioned any other man’s size. So this unexpected comment got me a little upset. But not wanting to seem insecure, I said,
“Well, it’s probably an enlarged prostate or something.” And went back to watching TV. Shipra shrugged and started getting dressed.
I would have argued with Shipra about her behavior with Alan more, but we had a web conference planned. With our son. So as soon as Shipra got dressed, I took my laptop out, logged into skype and called Shipra’s sister. Chintu was eagerly waiting for us, and we had a long conversation with him. he filled us in on every little detail of his two days with his aunt, from everything he had eaten, to the games he had played to what he’d seen on TV. It was almost two hours by the time we got done with the call.
—-
At 8 pm when we walked down to the lobby, Alan was already there.
“Wow, you look absolutely ravishing.” he said, staring at her up and down. He completely ignored my presence.
Shipra did look quite ravishing. She was wearing a pleated skirt that stopped an inch above her knees. And a sleeveless top with a bold neckline tat showed about an inch of her ample cleavage. I had thought of making a sarcastic comment about how she was getting all dolled up, but had decided against it. The end result was, she looked fabulous, something that pleased me but also bothered me.
Alan’s full attire further made me doubt his claims of being wealthy. His pants looked fairly worn-out and his blazer seemed like one of those cheap tawdry ones you get for 50 dollars at Walmart. He was also wearing a really horrible cologne, which he had clearly sprayed a lot of. This tawdrily dressed paunchy puny bald old geezer, was a stark contrast next to my wife who with her high heels, easily stood a head above him. But it didn’t seem to bother him.
He led us to the restaurant which was on the same block. It did seem very swanky. When the waiter led us to our table, he pulled out a chair for Shipra. As soon as she sat down, Alan swooped in, taking the chair next to her, forcing me to sit across from them. We started with small talk. Well, Alan and Shipra started with small talk. I was being ignored once again.
Suddenly, the sound of music filled the air. I noticed that the band was positioned quite close to us and they had started playing. As the music started, I could barely hear anything Shipra and Alan were saying. Alan had his elbow on the table and was sitting almost facing Shipra completely. At one point of time, I noticed that he put his hand on her bare knee, and looked at Shipra with my eyebrows raised. She stared back with a slight shrug, as if saying, it was my job to stop him.
The drinks arrived. Shipra and I had both ordered a beer, and Alan had ordered a double scotch on the rocks. He said something to her, which obviously I couldn’t catch because of the music. She nodded. Then I almost fell off my chair as Alan picked up his glass of scotch and put it to her lips. She took a small sip and coughed. Shipra hated scotch. She’d tasted it once many years back, and decided it was too potent a taste for her. As she coughed, Alan laughed and put the glass to her lips again. This time she took a sip without coughing.
Alan’s hand had now come off her knee. But it was instead around her shoulder. Again, Shipra and I played the who-blinks-first game. I threw her a dirty look which she returned. The right thing to do would have been to rescue her from his leery grip by putting an end to this all. But this had now turned into an ego tussle. She was the one who should push him away, I decided.
Soon the waiter came to take our orders. I noticed that Shipra didn’t say anything to the waiter, which meant the old fart had ordered for her. This bugged me even more. Shipra is very finicky about ordering food in a restaurant. Even when we go out in groups, she likes to order for herself. And here she was letting a practical stranger order food for her? I seethed in silence throughout dinner. Shipra and Alan kept talking, his hand rubbing her shoulder when it wasn’t rubbing his knees or thighs. By the end of the meal, his hand had pushed her skirt a couple of inches higher, and much more of her thigh was on display then at the beginning.
I had refused to blink, but was feeling very disgusted. I fought my disgust by switching from beer to scotch as well. And downing a few of them in haste as dinner progressed. Maybe it was the booze having its effect on her, but I thought that Shipra didn’t look as uncomfortable as before. She had gone from being a little squeamish of his touch and having a hesitant look of alarm on her face to now wearing a blissful smile. She was barely touching her food although Alan was wolfing his dinner down.
Finally dinner got done. I thought this was it, but instead, Alan got up and said to me,
I looked at Shipra, but she was avoiding my gaze. Instead she got up from her chair and followed Alan to the bar area of the restaurant where a handful of couples were dancing. From our table, I could only see part of the dance floor. Alan and Shipra first started dancing in that area, with a foot of distance between them.
The contrast between them was stark. Shipra – beautiful, voluptuous, elegantly dressed, and tall. Alan – half a foot shorter than her, dressed in cheap threads, bald, ugly, puny but with a paunch that stuck out from his blazer. Shipra moved gracefully, Alan plonked around like a frog. But even with this mismatch, what bothered me was that the two kept their gazes locked into each others. And Shipra, far from looking bothered, wore a happy smile as they danced.
Sonds started and finished but they kept dancing for a good twenty minutes or so. Meanwhile the waiter had come and placed the check on the table and had made a few meaningful visits to look at it. Finally I put my credit card in the check folder and the waiter took it away. I was about to get up, interrupt the dancing and take Shipra home, when the song changed to a romantic ballad. An ideal slow dancing song.
I watched in horror as Alan pulled my wife into a clumsy embrace and the two of them started gently swaying to the music. Alan started off placing his hands on the small of her back, but then gradually slid them downwards. Until both his hands were on her shapely butt. He then started gentle kneading her butt, without any resistance from her. I looked around and saw a few people around them snickering and pointing. Even in Vegas, watching such a clumsily dressed old codger feeling up an exquisite beauty like my wife wasn’t a common scene.
I watched with disgust, but also with a sense of vindication. This dirty old man was skillfully putting the moves on my wife. Right in front of me. And she was doing nothing to stop him. Obviously, I had been correct in my suspicions about Jeff and the other guys. If she let this old sack of dough go this far, who knows what she had done with Jeff when I was away? I felt my ears burn in anger as I watched them. Finally the dance came to an end. And the two of them started walking back to the table.
When Shipra took her seat, she looked into my eyes with a defiant expression. I was doing nothing to hide my rage. But it didn’t seem to bother her. She looked away. I then looked at Alan. As he sat down, I almost spat out my drink in shock. There was a huge tent in his pants. He was sporting a rather substantial erection. And, it dawned on me, this beast of an erection had obviously been rubbing against my wife when they slow danced. Or maybe it was a result of their slow dance.
Alan must have noticed it too, because I sensed a movement of his hand. And when I followed it, I saw it was headed towards his thigh again. Except this time, he didn’t stop at just rubbing her thigh. It disappeared under her skirt. I looked up at Shipra who had now closed her eyes and had tilted her head back a little. Slowly her lips parted and I saw another familiar look. And alarm bells started going off in my head.
I realized that just a couple of feet away from me, Alan was fingering my wife. Was he doing it over her panties? Or had he slipped his finger inside? There was no way for me to know. What I did know was, I was at a crossroads. Either I get up, throw a fit, and kick this old man’s ass. Or I continue to be what I had been until then. A silent accomplice.
I don’t what what made me opt for the second option. Maybe I was getting turned on by this ugly old man handling my wife like putty. But at that moment, I rationalized my non-action by telling myself, it’s up to her to stop him. If she wants to prove me wrong and show me as a jealous paranoid husband, she should do something. I didn’t realzie though that Shipra was probably too drunk to think straight.
Alan noticed that I had noticed, and flashed me a triumphant smile. He then poked her thigh with his other hand, and she parted her legs even more, providing him better access to her cunt. Shipra’s face now wore an overtly sexual look. her eyes were now half open, but she didn’t seem to be looking at anything in particular. Her nipples were obviously erect because they were poking through even her bra and top. Her face had gone all red. And she seemed to be breathing heavily.
This scene lasted five minutes or so, until the band stopped playing and there was a minute of silence. Alan took his hand out from under Shipra’s skirt. Shipra let out an audible moan of disappointment. Her eyes opened completely and met mine. She looked away in shame. I wondered if she would end it now. But it wasn’t in her hands.
Alan got up. His erection seemed to have subsided by now. He said to me very matter-of-factly,
“I am taking her to my suite back at the Venetian. You can come along too if you want.”
I tried to search for words, but couldn’t come up with any. Alan held out his hand for Shipra. I expected her to take it. But instead, she was looking at me.
“Pavan.” she said in a breathless voice.
“Hmm?” I said.
“What should I do?” there was a plaintive tone of genuine conflict in her voice. Looking back, I now know that was the last chance I had to put an end to the depravity. I just stared at her.
“What should I do, Pavan?” she asked, once more in that gut-wrenching voice.
A dozen different sentences sprung up in my head. “Don’t go.” “Let’s go back to our room.” “Leave this old fart here.” “Stop the madness.”
I didn’t say any of them. I just shrugged. Shipra exhaled loudly. Alan was still holding his hand out for her. She took it and got up. Alan put his hand around my wife’s waist and led her away. I got up and followed them, as if in a slumber.
I walked behind Alan and Shipra as we left the restaurant and went back to the Venetian. I followed them into the elevator. Alan slid his key and pushed the button for the top floor. once the elevator door closed, he stood there, again kneading her butt. The elevator reached his floor and we walked to the suite.
Alan led us to the “living room” of the suite and turned on just one small lamp. The room was mostly dark, with just the one lamp illuminating it. Alan headed to the minibar and poured three scotches, without ice. He handed one to Shipra and another to me. Shipra took her drink and sat down on the small couch. She took a sip and then looked at me, with a petrified expression. Again, she seemed to be crying out for help. For me to rescue her. But I felt helpless. I sat down on a chair across from her. Alan took his glass and sat down next to her.
Alan then reached for the remote and turned the TV on. He turned it to one of the movie channels, and sat there, with his hands around Shipra, who seemed like she would run out of the room at any moment. We all sat there staring at the TV. Even Alan, for the first time ever, seemed a bit nervous.
I looked at Shipra’s face. She was staring at the TV, as was Alan. But her stroking of his dick was getting faster and faster. This went on for a few minutes and then Shipra stopped. She took her hand off the dick and stared stretching her fingers. Her hand was probably tired. So Alan took her other hand and put it on his dick, and she resumed stroking it. By now the monster cock was moist with all the precum that had oozed out. I could see even Shipra’s fingers glistening. And I realized I too now had an erection in my pants that needed some relieving.
When Shipra took another break to change hands, Alan took the opportunity to take her top off. She offered no resistance and was now sitting there in a black bra struggling to contain her massive tits. As Shipra, now without her blouse, started jacking him off again, Alan started playing with her tits. He put one finger inside the bra cup and moved it all around. Then he scooped the boobs out of her bra. I stared in shock at how trashy Shipra looked at that moment, her boobs spilling out of her bra as she gave some dirty old man a handjob.
“Enough with the hands.” Alan brusquely said and slapped her hand away. He reached for her hair and pulled her head down into his lap. Shipra resisted a little. Only a little. I suspected it was for my benefit. But within a few seconds, I could see her wide open mouth descending on Alan’s upright dick. She could take in less than half of it in her mouth before she let out a gagging noise.”Not used to the size, eh?” Alan said and chuckled. “I can see why. from that tiny tent in his pants.”
Shipra took his dick out of her mouth and looked at me. Her eyes fell on my erection, and I think I saw a hint of a smile on her lips. But Alan was getting impatient now. He roughly grabbed her hair and put his dick back in her mouth. Shipra now started sucking his dick enthusiastically. A little too enthusiastically. She made gagging and slurping sounds as she went to work on his dick. And I could not help but be aroused at the sight of this massive shaft going in and out of my wife’s mouth.
“You’ve taught her well. I’ll give you that much. She sucks dick better than any Indian chick I’ve been with.” Alan said as he nonchalantly unhooked her bra. Shipra slid the bra off and threw it on the floor. Now as she was hunched over on Alan’s lap sucking his dick furiously, her boobs swayed and touched his balls.
Alan noticed, like I did, that Shipra slowly moved from being in a sitting position to putting her knees on the couch. She was now bent over with his shapely butt in the air. he reached for her ass and pulled the skirt up until it was bunched around her waist. Half an asscheek each peeked out from the side of her panties. Alan started fondling her fleshy ass as she continued to suck his dick.
“Take it all the way in, slut.” Alan said and spanked her on the ass really hard.
Shipra tried, forcing her mouth down, but could not take more than three fourths the length in.
“All the way in, you curry-munching cunt.” another loud slap on her ass. And then he pushed her head down. I started hearing gagging and spitting sounds as Shipra’s head turned upside down. It seemed like his dick was now going down (or up) her throat. Shipra was in the most incredible position I had ever seen her in. Completely topless, skirt up to her waist, panties on display, and head upturned over a dick.
Finally Alan let go and Shipra’s head sprang up off his dick. She inhaled loudly and started coughing.
“You liked that, didn’t you?” Alan asked.
Shipra shook her head.
“Not you. This dickwad sitting here. You liked watching your wife take my whole dick down her throat like a sword swallower, didn’t you?”
I stayed silent. What could I say?
Alan got up and pulled Shipra by the hair towards the side of the couch. She dragged her knees sideways on the couch to keep pace with his hair pulling.
“What you have here, my friend, is a slut. And I will show you how a slut is to be handled.” Alan said and pulled Shipra’s head over the side of the couch armrest. Her stomach was resting on the armrest and her torso was hanging upside down over the side. From where I was sitting, I could see her hair had fallen over, and her massive tits were hanging next to her chin. She put both her palms on the floor for support. On the other side of the couch was Shipra’s upraised butt and her knees which were still on the couch cushion.
“You know why she is a slut?” Alan said as he roughly pulled her panties down in one motion. Even as she was being manhandled, Shipra co-operated by lifting her knees so Alan could take the panties off. Shipra’s perfectly shaped big butt was now completely naked and on view. It was hoisted in the air like a shapely white hill. And her wet pussy was visible from between her legs.
“Because only a slut….”
Alan continued and loudly spanked her right asscheek. Shipra let out a yelp.
“..lets an old geezer like me….”
SMACK! SMACK! One on each asscheek. Two more yelps.
“….play with her cooch…”
SMACK! SMACK!
“…in front of her husband.”
Alan’s hand formed red prints on Shipra’s ass which was now shivering with the onslaught. I could not see her face, but if she was in distress, she certainly didn’t say anything apart from her yelps.
“I will now show you how a whore like this is to be fucked.” Alan said and stepped out of his pants. His huge dick was now fully erect and throbbing and I got a good look at his thick bush which was completely white. He put one knee on the couch next to Shipra’s leg, and his other leg was on the floor.
Alan took a step forward until his dick was touching her labia. He rubbed the head of his dick up and down her labia, her clit and even through her asscheek. Shipra’s cunt and ass were now almost pulsating with desire, and the way she moved was a clear invitation if not an appeal for Alan to take her. But Alan was taking his time.
“Look at how dripping wet she is.” Alan said pointing to a big wet spot on the couch’s armrest.
Finally he sopped moving his dick up and down and placed it at the entrance of her cunt. I was skeptical of her ability to take it in. It was obscenely thick, and Shipra would feel filled even when my dick entered her. So it was no surprise that the first couple of inches took some time going in. Shipra inhaled loudly and moaned as he pushed the behemoth in, her cunt lips wrapping around it.
“Oh sluts like these will pretend they can’t handle it. But what they want is a big dick. I don;t care if you’re Indian, Chinese or German. All women want a big dick to pump them.” Alan looked at me and said, and slid more of his dick inside. Now more than half of it was in Shipra who was grunting every time he pushed it in.
Alan then put both his hands on her shapely waist, moved forward and started banging her really hard and fast. He started grunting as he did that, and Shipra joined in with obscene sounding grunts of her own. Her boobs, hanging upside down, where now slapping against his chin really hard. And I noticed her nipples were more erect than I had ever seen them. Alan moved his hands to her hips and held on tight as he started pounding my wife even harder. From her shrieks, she seemed to be enjoying every moment of it.
That was when I finally and fully came to terms with what was happening. My wife was being fucked like I had never been able to fuck her before. Shipra was a gorgeous woman who deserved the best kind of sex, which I hadn’t been able to provide her. And my jealousy and paranoia in the past had been nothing but an oblique admission of my inability. her being loyal to me would have been a waste of her god given looks and body. Maybe that’s why I had not stopped these proceedings. Somewhere deep within, I knew that she needed this. She deserved this.
After what seemed like an eternity of fucking her like that, Alan pulled his dick out. I thought he had cum, but that was far from the case. He stepped off the couch, his massive dick glistening with her pussy juices. He spanked her ass hard and said,
“Get up you dirty little slut!” Even in my state of shock and arousal I could not help but smile at the irony of this puny old codger calling her ‘little’.
Shipra obediently took her palms off the floor and pulled herself into a standing position. Her skirt fell into place covering her pussy, and she stood there breathing hard staring at me. The look one her face was one I had never seen before – that of a wild animal in heat. Her eyes were burning with desire. There was drool all over her face. And her massive boobs were flushed and heaving with her breathing. She was staring in my direction but I don’t know if she even registered my presence.
“Bedroom!” Alan said and reached up to grab her hair. He pulled her behind him as he headed towards the suite’s bedroom. As I said, she was a good half a foot taller than him so his pulling her by the hair made her bend down a little. Plus she was still wearing her heels. In threw steps, she stumbled and fell on all fours. But Alan was in no mood to wait for her to get on her feet. He continued to drag her to the bedroom. Shipra followed the best she could, being dragged on her hand and feet. And I gazed in marvel at my wife’s jiggling butt as she was led away, like the bitch in heat that she was, to the bedroom.
Shipra’s tall, shapely naked body was curled up on her side on the bed. Her hair looked dishevelled. Her huge tits were heaving, taking her erect nipples with them. She had a glazed look on her face as she stared into nothingness. Alan meanwhile took off his own shirt and shoes and got completely naked. All this while he was talking to me.
“You Indian men were blessed by god with such incredibly hot women. But you keep them subdued, force them to suppress their sexuality. What that does it turns them into sexual volcanoes ready to erupt any time they get some attention. Turns them into sluts waiting to be set free. That’s what this little pixie is, isn’t she? A slut. A volcanic slut.”
Alan got on the bed and spanked her ass really hard for the umpeenth time that night. Then he pushed her so she was on her back and lifted her legs by the knees so they were in the air. Her dripping pussy was on display as he held her long legs up like some logs of wood. Holding her legs like that, he continued with his monologue.
“This slut…or should I say whore…is slutty even by the standards of regular sluts. In my 65 years, I have never bedded a woman so easily. That too in front of her husband. What does that tell you, Pavan? Your wife has so willingly opened her legs for an ugly old fart like me. With you around. Can you imagine what she must be up to when you’re not around?”
I looked at Shipra. But she seemed to be ignoring whatever he was saying. I watched in amazement at her hands which were between them, trying to reach for his erect dick which was inches away from her cunt.
“Haha, look at that. She is reaching for my dick. She hasn’t had enough. When was the last time you fucked her, Pavan? And I mean REALLY TRULY fucked her like the whore she is? You should fuck her regularly or any guy who is willing to put in a few hours to chat her up and make her feel like a woman, will take her to bed”
Alan smirked and pushed his hips forward to penetrate her as he placed her calves on his shoulder. Shipra moved her hips to accommodate him enthusiastically. He pushed his dick inside and started playing with her huge tits as they fucked. Another intensely perverted but erotic sight – my tall gorgeous wife laid out on her back, her long shapely legs on the wrinkly shoulder of this bald ugly geezer as he fucked her.
After a few minutes, he leaned forward, making Shipra’s body bent in the waist almost to forty five degrees, and kept fucking her. I had by now grown immune to the animalistic grunts and moans both of them were letting out. They were engaged in the most primal form of coitus – fucking for the sake of fucking. Not once, I noted, had Alan kissed Shipra’s full beautiful lips. He was obviously interested in a different set of lips that he was now assaulting with his behemoth dick.
— As Alan’s fucking picked up tempo, Shipra responded with louder grunts. The bed was shaking with the intensity of their raw fucking. Shipra moved her legs off Alan’s shoulder and wrapped them around his waist. I watched aghast as she locked her legs around and and pulled him deeper into her. I realized that my wife had now taken all of Alan’s monster cock inside her. Will I ever be able to satisfy her in bed after this, I wondered.
Alan responded to Shipra’s legwork by ramming her cunt even harder. Minutes ticked by and I realized that it had been almost half an hour that this fucking had lasted. Was this man ever going to cum? He kept going and going. Their grunts kept getting deeper as well as louder. With each thrust, Alan seemed to be planting his flag deeper and deeper into what was my territory.
Alan finished pumping his seed into her with a final hoarse grunt, and then collapsed on top of her. I could see his white chest hair mashing into my wife’s delicious boobs. She kept her legs wrapped around his waist and hugged him in a tight embrace. The two of them lay there writhing and moaning for a couple of minutes, until they caught their breath. Alan then, fir the first time that night, kissed my wife on her lips. It was a wet sloppy kiss – I could hear them drooling and salivating. The kissing went on for a few minutes.
Then Alan tried to free himself from the grip of Shipra’s legs which were still wrapped around him.
“No…please…” Shipra said in a pleading voice as she begged her new lover to stay with her.
“Yeah, in a minute, slut.” Alan said and freed himself. Shipra lay there with her legs open as Alan stepped off the bed. I could see a river of cum oozing out of her cunt.
Alan walked towards me, completely naked. His dick was semi-erect, but was still big enough to slap against his thighs as he walked. He walked past me and beckoned me to follow him. I mutely did. He poured two drinks and handed me one. He took his own and downed it in one big gulp. He put the glass down on the table with a thud and walked back towards the bedroom. I noticed how wrinkly and flabby his old man butt was.
Alan stepped inside the suite bedroom and said to me,
“Finish the fucking drink and let yourself out.”
With that he slammed the door shut. I sat down on the couch where he had first fucked my wife and started drinking.
I was woken by the sound of the door closing shut. I opened my eyes and saw Shipra walk in, fully dressed, with her purse. She put it on the table and laid down next to me silently. I thought of something to say but words failed me. After fifteen minutes of silence, I got up.
“I’m going to get ready and go to the casino floor.” I said.
“Okay.” Shipra calmly said. “I am going to take a nap.”
The next two days I saw little of Shipra. I spent my time in the casinos playing blackjack, and won about 20,000 dollars. She spent the day sleeping and spent nights and evenings with Alan. Our last night in Vegas, I ran into them in the elevator and Alan magnanimously invited me to the suite to watch, “as long as I didn’t get in the way”. In the room, I watched incredulously as Alan threw my wife over the couch armrest like the first time, but buggered her in the ass this time. From the ease with which her asshole accommodated his giant dong, I surmised it wasn’t the first time he had fucked her there.
Neither of referred to what had happened on the flight back to New Jersey, nor when we got back home. We got back to our normal life as if nothing had happened. I came to terms with my being a willing cuckold and stopped pestering her about Jeff. Although I never caught them in action and never asked Shipra to confirm it, I was sure they were having sex now. That is, if they weren’t before.
A month or so later, I came home to a surprising sight. Alan was sitting on our living room couch playing with Chintu. He greeted me like an old friend and complimented me on my beautiful house. Shipra came out of the kitchen, saying Alan would stay for dinner.
Over dinner, with Chintu around, the conversation stayed polite and mundane. But it did lead to an interesting revelation. It turned out that Alan’s boasts about being a rich old geezer were bullshit. He was a fucking greeter at a Walmart in Maryland, barely making ends meet! He could only afford to stay in that suite in the Venetian in Vegas because he had won some contest on the radio. His income was probably less than what we spent on gas. All his life, he had held a string of minor clerical jobs, was divorced, and had no kids. I tried to gauge Shipra’s reaction to that information, but she didn’t seem surprised or bothered.
Shipra came back to the room. Alan and I were sitting on different couches, and Shipra seemed to think for a few seconds before sitting down next to me. Then she dropped the bombshell. She was pregnant. I was a little astonished, although I guess I should have expected it after watching Alan fuck her bareback and deposit his wad inside her fertile womb.
“Is it mine or his?” I asked. After our Vegas tripped, she and I had often fucked bareback.
“I don’t know.” Shipra shrugged. Alan had a smug smile on his face.
“Or is it Jeff’s?” I asked tartly. Alan let out a chuckle.
“I can get a paternity test done. That’s why I invited Alan over. To talk about….what to do.”
That was the last time Alan visited our house. Shipra would drive over to Maryland once every few weeks and spend the weekend with him, until her third trimester, when driving became impossible. I wanted desperately to know what she had been up to. But I didn’t ask, and she didn’t offer any information.
The baby came two weeks three weeks after schedule. When Alan came to the hospital to see it, he joked that the baby had to be his – he was known for never coming too early. But the baby was definitely his. The brown hair, the blue eyes, the odd shape of the forehead – I knew I would be bringing up Alan’s son as my own.