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

“Damn!” Mithun yelled out in an incredulous voice, “Her ass is greased already! She’s ready for more than just fucking. This is not a pantie she is wearing. It’s a thong.”

Then the apparent gang leader, Wasim, stood up and grabbed Vidya by her hair.

“C’mon memsaab. Time to get rid of that nightie.”

“Look, Wasim.” Clearly things were moving fast and Vidya wanted to slow it down. “Let’s go to the bedroom, one by one, and I will gladly …”

“Memsaab. Memsaab.” Wasim shook his head sadly, and then raised his hand.

SLAP!

SLAP!

Two sharp slaps across both of her cheeks from Wasim made Vidya cry out in pain. The other men all watched in awe as this lowly guard slapped this respectable housewife in front of everyone. Vidya’s eyes were downcast, and her face flush with embarrassment and shame at being humiliated like this. Wasim once again grabbed her by her chin.

“Randi. Slut.” He said. “Abhi se mukh kholegi toh sirf lund choosne ya kiss karne (if you open your mouth now, it should be to suck a cock or kiss one). Got it?”

Vidya looked at his eyes, and then nodded fervently.

It was some sight to see my respectable wife being treated like some bazaari aurat, a woman of the street. Wasim’s roughness seemed to have once again brought out the inner submissive in her.

“Good.” Moving suddenly, he pulled up the bottom of my wife’s knee length nightie and lifted it up and at the same time ripped one shoulder strap downwards. Meanwhile someone else had grabbed the other end of the nightie and I could hear a ripping sound.

R-r-r-r-RIP!

Vidya’s flimsy nightie was torn into shreds and she was now there standing in only a white bra and a small panty. Jeet moved behind her and unclasped the bra. Within moments, my wife was now standing in front of these hungry, wild men, completely topless, her big boobs bouncing about and complete exposed. Only her thin, thong panty remained.

I could hear the sound of belts being unclasped and pants dropping to the floor. Vidya was pushed down to her knees, so she was now kneeling in the centre of that circle. Cocks popped up on all sides of my wife’s face and then men struggled to get a grip on her hair or head to guide my wife’s mouth towards their throbbing projectiles.

Ramu, who seemed to be more of a facilitator here than participant, moved back, and I saw him take out a cellphone. He was recording my wife’s defilement on his phone! I wondered how many videos of my wife were now circling the dark corners of the internet.

By now Wasim had clutched the back of my wife’s head and grabbed a fistful of her hair. Vidya was being dragged towards his massive penis. Two quick slaps and she opened her mouth and swallowed the tip of his thick veined boner. He shifted his grip from behind Vidya’s head to the side and began face fucking her. After three or four thrusts Wasim shoved his shaft deep into my wife’s throat and held her head in place. All of his massive cock was now inside my wife’s mouth and further down her throat. His pubic hair seemed to tickle her nostrils while Vidya’s chin bounced over his hairy balls.

Please wait…

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