Even as we all watched (“all” being me the husband, and the rest of the household which were Mr. Sarun’s maid servants and their husbands), Mr. Sarun would occasionally pause, raise a hand and smack Vidya sharply on her bum, leaving a red handprint. He would then smack her on the other butt cheek, before resuming the butt fucking. My wife Vidya was being fucked like a two rupee whore in front of me, and I could do nothing but watch helplessly. I just hoped he wasn’t hurting her a lot.
Even as Vidya was being spanked on her bum and called all types of crude insults, she would make grunting and moaning noises enthusiastically as Mr. Sarun boned her. There is nothing like hearing your wife moan passionately in the throes of an orgasm, with her lover’s cock buried deep into one of her cavities. Mr. Sarun had a special talent of making Vidya cum easily, and cum often. Having a giant cock helped, obviously.
I watched feebly as he emptied the first of his many gallons of cum into my wife. My boss then grabbed Vidya by the hair. He liked to pull her by the hair. One of his favourite postions was having Vidya on all fours, like a dog, get behind her and bury his manhood into her anus, while holding on to her hair. This time he pulled her up and barked, “Saali! Come, let’s continue this upstairs.”
“Yes, Sirjee.” Obediently Vidya stood up, and we could see his cum run down her crack, and onto her milky white thighs. The driver Imtiaz and the gardener Fateh watched jealously as Vidya, her charms completely on display, followed their master Mr. Sarun out of the room, her ass jiggling and her tits bouncing as she walked. Without being asked, I too followed the couple down the hallway like a pet dog. The only comfort I had was that it was Saturday night, and tomorrow we fly back home.
Perhaps I should start at the beginning.
It’s been almost four months since our fifth anniversary. The construction crew working on the roads in front of my house had long gone, and so had Wasim the guard. Balachandra was visiting Pune less and less often, and Vidya never gave the other guard Feroz any attention since then. Only the milkman Ramu visited, once every two weeks or so. Still, it had been two months since his last visit. So as far as men were concerned, Vidya — from being fucked almost daily by multiple men — had gone to being fucked once or twice a month. Of course I am not counting myself, but as Vidya would remind me — I am not a proper man.
In the last two months, our marital life had gone to some semblance of being normal. For one thing, no tall, dark, well built, low class labourer had his long pecker buried deep in my fair, gori wife Vidya on an almost daily basis. Even though it had been my idea for my wife to have an affair, I was worried that all those men were stretching my wife’s cunt beyond repair, and whether I could truly satisfy Vidya after these affairs. And whether, after treating me like a pathetic cuckold, and spanking and slapping me, if Vidya could love me like a husband. It turns out I needn’t have worried.