Indian wife’s old lover the milkman returns, with friends

“And then, the other day,” Vidya continued, “When you were at work, I was going shopping with Prakriti and Laila, he was leering at me. Literally LEERING! I was trying to find my key card in my purse and he was behind me, and I could sense that he was starting at my bum. Prakriti even said so to me later. And when I turned and caught him looking, he had the audacity to say, ‘you are looking lovely today, ma’am’. What cheek!”

“So he only told you, and not your girlfriends?” I asked.

I could see why. Vidya, as I have said many a times before, is not only the best looking wife in our community, but probably one of the best looking women in India. In the words of one of her previous lovers, she is an aasli desi taadka maal. Not the scrawny skin and bones type models that populate the ramp nowadays, but a proper Indian woman with curves, a lovely gaand (ass) and actual big titties to match.

She kept herself fit through exercising religiously even after our marriage, which is when most Indian women let themselves go. When Vidya would go out with her girlfriends Prakriti and Laila, no one would give those two wives a second look because everyone would be staring at Vidya, my drop dead gorgeous wife — with her raven black hair, her milky white skin, the way she wore her sari exposing her toned tummy and navel, and her voluptuous buttocks swinging to and fro as she walked. Oh, how many times I had let her walk ahead of me, just to see who else was staring at her sashaying buttocks! Sometimes, if we had to take public transit on some rare occasions, many a man had “mistakenly” placed a hand on her voluptuous derriere, only to withdraw after a scorching look from her.

“Yes, only me.” Vidya complained. “It was so humiliating. For my bum to be given the look over by a lowly guard! The guard!”

“I see.” This time I took a venture and agreed with my wife. “That is certainly reprehensible.”

“And that is not all.” Vidya was on fire. “You know I don’t have anything against the lower class folk, right? I mean, I even let Ramu — a milkman — shag me. I even let him cum inside me, without a condom! But this man … Wasim … sometimes when we ladies pass, he makes comments about me to his fellow guards, and he thinks I can’t overhear. But I do. I have very good ears. All lowly comments typical of that class.”

For a moment, I wondered why Vidya was so upset at being leered at by this guard. My buxom wife was used to being catcalled on the streets of India and hardly gave them a second thought.

It must be due to Vidya’s situation with Balachandra, I realized. She is missing him.

Balachandra.

He was our neighbour, an older man formerly from the army, now retired. For the last little while, in addition to me, he was also the only other man who was fucking my wife on a regular basis. But it has been two months since his last visit, and I knew Vidya missed that big cock of his. It must be that frustration of not having sex with him that was making her get angry at little incidents, such as the one with this poor guard Wasim.

Please wait…

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