A Night to Remember

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This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. THIS WORK CONTAINS ADULT MATERIAL, INCLUDING EXPLICIT SEXUALITY. IF SUCH MATERIAL OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DO NOT READ FURTHER.

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WE LIVE IN BOMBAY, INDIA. We've been married for about fifteen years now. My wife is a knockout; at least I think so. She's dusky with really lovely, fine, regular features -- a slender nose, superb cheekbones and an exquisitely sculpted line to her chin and jaw. Her eyes are dark and large and she lines them with eye-black. Her mouth is really sexy with a full lower lip and the upper one bowed over it, and her teeth are very white and even. Her hair is dark and thick, down to the small of her back. She has a lovely long, graceful neck which leads to a pair of truly gorgeous breasts: sloping and high and full, tipped with long nipples that harden very, very readily, and set in really sex aureoles. I love the way they pucker and her breasts get swollen and heavy when she's aroused. Her waist is small and her belly is nice and firm and flat -- no love-handles, no sagging pouches, just the slightest, but firm, curve. Overall, she's a near-perfect 38-26-34. Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky!

Madhu is hopelessly and delightfully addicted to sex. She's not a nympho or anything, but nothing gives her as much pleasure as good, hard, demanding fucking. I won't go into the full story of how we started on the cuckold-scene except to say that we've been doing it, with great satisfaction, for nearly ten years now and it was entirely mutual: I shared with her my desire to see her being fucked, and fucked hard, by another man, a bull of a man and, at once, Madhu accepted. Her excitement was evident and I was filled with a mixture of joy and arousal and a terrible dread.

Anyway, it started and that first incident was sado-masochistically mesmerising and utterly irresistible. Our chosen bull was a hired gigolo. We'd decided it would be best to start with someone skilled and also relatively anonymous. The man was very, very good. Good looking, well-built, exceedingly well-hung and something of an artist when it came to sex. Nothing rushed about his technique and his stamina was truly awesome. He took his time and it was more in the nature of a seduction. They were together for a long time that evening. And I watched with a pounding in my head and heart, my eyes burning, my ears echoing with her cries of lust and passion as he fucked her again and again and again like I have never been able to do. She loved every minute of it, panting and moaning and writhing ecstatically with him, letting herself be taken repeatedly and her love calls were obscene and erotic. I can still remember the sight of her on her forearms and knees on the living room carpet, rocking back and forth, her swollen breasts swinging and jiggling, her face turned up and over a shoulder and radiant with passion while he took her from behind straddling her hips. I watched his big cock grinding in and out of her cunt and saw how he fucked her first for her pleasure and then for his. He topped it off by fucking her mouth and creaming in her face. It was the first time I'd seen her do that -- with me, she'd always refused, but this time she seemed unable to say no to anything, she acted like a wanton sex slave. I moaned as I watched his cum spurt into her open mouth and splash on her face and breasts and saw her smiling lasciviously as he finished.

It took us two days to recover and then, when I was fucking her, I kept thinking of the guy and I knew she was, too. It added to our pleasure, each knowing the other knew but not saying. Our orgasms were terrific. That night I asked if she'd like to do it again and she said yes, of course, as often as possible. And that's how it began.

Now in India social norms are very different from what they are in Europe and America. It's a far less egalitarian society and most (practically all) households have live-in full-time servants and domestic staff. The wages aren't high so this isn't as impressive as it sounds. Besides, one needs the staff because the other basic infrastructure really isn't that optimised for people to manage on their own. Anyway, the servants (men and women) are always economically less well off than their employers and significantly so. Most of them don't even have a basic education. They often come from villages seeking work in the cities and take jobs in houses and as errand boys in offices or chauffeurs and such. Indian society has always regarded them (unfortunately in my view) as 'socially' less privileged (no one uses the word inferior any more, but that's what they mean). Contact with servants is required, by social mores, to be distant and aloof. No familiarity. They do not dine at table, for example. Nowadays things are changing and the new generation of servants is better dressed and considerably more modernised. The women, for example, now use make up, simple though it is and only on special occasions, more often and dress better.

The point is that any kind of overtly familiar relations with servants are very much still a scandal. Forget about sex with them. That's completely out. So imagine the thrill when our next bull was one of our house servants, a sturdily built young man in his early twenties, lean and hard-bodied, and rough in his manner. We arranged it between ourselves without telling him. The rest of the staff was given the day off. He stayed. And then Madhu went about seducing him and in no time at all they were fucking in the bedroom while I watched, hidden, my pulse racing and with a huge hard-on. The guy was terribly excited at the chance of being able to fuck his mistress and it showed. She had to control the pace to prolong it. He fucked her hard and called her all kinds of names (whore and slut and so on) and took her two or three times in different positions but this time, unlike with the gigolo, she was in control. I can still see her riding his cock, squatting over his lap, her face flung back, her mouth open, gasping and calling out loudly, her buttocks bouncing off his thighs, her cunt sliding up and down on the long thickness of his dark cock. He kept watching her, transfixed, and squeezing her big breasts.

After that, there was no turning back and we went on steadily. Madhu took more servants, other gigolos and then we moved on to acquaintances and then close friends.

II

THREE OR FOUR YEARS after we entered the scene, for the first time, Madhu had two bulls together. That was her idea, entirely. She claimed that the only thing better than one bull was two. I was thrilled. The very thought was erotic. It was one of my most ardent fantasies and I couldn't believe that she had suggested it. I knew this was another beginning, in a way. Soon, I hoped, I'd be able to take her to living out my next level of fantasies -- full fledged orgies with several guys fucking her, having her to a live sex show for a select audience and even whoring herself to complete strangers. I'll tell you later how much of that we've been able to get to; actually, it's quite a lot of it.

Anyway, this was then a special occasion for us and we arranged it carefully. Two years earlier, I'd bought a lovely beach property about two hours drive south and had the existing house completely redone. Madhu worked on it, with an unerring touch and gave it a truly wonderful, warm feel. I'd put in a pool, too. It has two floors, with three bedrooms on the floor above with a wide terrace or balcony that runs along the front so that each room opens out onto the upper deck. The floor below is at garden level. I have a study that looks out on the garden and pool and the sea beyond. The living room actually opens out fully so that it almost feels as if the garden has climbed the patio and come right in. There's a little dining alcove on one side with a table that can seat 8 comfortably, another breakfast nook on the patio, a large, airy kitchen with a big pantry and larder. The two car garage is just beyond. We've entertained here often and I have vivid memories of the innumerable times I've watched my wife with other men here -- in the house, in the garden, in the pool, on the white sands with the sea curving around their writhing bodies.

Madhu chose her lovers for the evening. Some distance from the house there is a small village. The young men come out in the mornings and evenings and, living so close to the sea, many are adept swimmers. Ever since we got the place and started work on it, Madhu had been eyeing the young men hungrily. One or two of them are exceptionally sexy. The best of them all is a tall, superbly built youth in his mid-twenties.

Raju is dark and very good-looking. His body is truly stunning, sculpted like a classical statue. He's tall and has the broad shoulders, wide chest and high, narrow hips of a strong swimmer, and a swimmer's long, smooth, sinewy muscles. His belly is rock-hard and cobbled with a prominent six-pack. About a year earlier, we called him over to the house ostensibly to help with harvesting the fruit of several coconut trees that grow in our orchard. He agreed and I could see Madhu's mounting excitement as she watched him climb the tree effortlessly using just his bare feet and the palms of his hands, his muscles rippling like snakes under his taut, dark skin.

When he was done, an hour later, she rewarded him suitably. We were both thrilled to find that his endowments matched his physique and, better still, that he was evidently a skilled, caring yet demanding lover. He now tends the garden, cleans the pool and general looks after the place for us when we're not there.

Raju was her first choice for the special evening. After a lot of thought and discussion -- we considered a friend, one of her favoured gigolo, others -- we finally decided that it should be her favourite servant-bull. And so it was.

We left the city late Friday night, the three of us, Madhu, I and the servant. I took the minivan which I used for moving heavy stuff from our city apartment to the beach place. Behind the driver's cab in front was a low door that led to the back of the van. Since I'd only used it for moving, the small windows at the back were boarded up and I'd taken out all but one jump seat. The servant, Hari, sat there.

As we drove down the expressway, I could see that Madhu was getting hot. She'd opened her blouse and was slowly caressing her breasts. Her skirt was riding high on her thighs and when I saw her move a hand between her legs I asked her if she wanted to go back with Hari. She almost groaned in relief and before I knew it she was out of her seatbelt and into the back. Pretty soon I could hear him grunting loudly and calling her to suck his cock harder. I grinned to myself.

Soon I could hear the two of them fucking in the back. We left the expressway and got onto the country road and I pulled over and killed the lights and went back to watch. He was fucking her on her back on a rug on the floor of the van, thrusting into her hard and she clung to him, her body rocking with his thrusts, kissing him feverishly, her hips bucking under his. The van was rocking with their movements. It turned me on. I sat on the jump seat and watched. My presence didn't stop them. I saw the servant kissing my wife, pushing his tongue into her mouth as his big cock slid in and out of her cunt. He was a lean, dark young man, quite good looking and one of her favourites. After a while, they stopped and he slid out of her and she immediately rolled over and got on her forearms and knees so that he could mount her from behind doggie style. Her face was only inches from my knees. I was tempted to push my cock into her face, but I resisted and decided to save that for later. Instead I contented myself with watching. The servant knelt behind her and quickly ran his cock deep into her cunt and began fucking her hard and she gasped and cried out, going _Yes! Yes! Yes!_ and moaning and begging him to fuck her harder. Her body rocked back and forth as he pounded in and out of her really hard. I could see how much she was enjoying it. Her face glowed and her breasts swung heavy and swollen with excitement and her nipples were hard as pebbles. Her sexy gold necklace bounced against her chin as he moved faster. I could actually hear the slap-slap-slap of his thighs against her buttocks. He gripped her waist and kept pistoning in and out of her body grunting and gasping, calling her a whore and a bitch, goading her to take his cock. I knew she loved the obscene love-talk and I heard her respond in the same words, egging him on to keep fucking her.

I was thrilled with the performance and wanted to see it through but we were running late now so I moved back to the driver's cab and pulled out onto the road again, letting them finish off in the back.

We got to the beach place late and went straight up to bed, leaving Hari to unload the luggage -- not that we had that much. I told Madhu not to wash. The smell of him on her turned me on. She smiled and threw herself into a deep chair and split her legs open for me.

"He came inside me," she said, with a sly, knowing smile. She pulled open her cunt lips and I saw the remains of my servant's stickiness in her slit. She dragged one slender finger through her cunt and sexily licked her fingertip and, with her other hand, squeezed her breast. "Come here, you," she said throatily. "First lick me. Then you can fuck me."

It wasn't the first time I'd done or that she'd asked me to, and I loved it. I flung myself to my knees before her and drove my face into her crotch. Within seconds she was murmuring in pleasure, her hips writhing and jerking under my face. I could taste her juices mingling with the servant's cum -- it made my head swim with excitement. She grew hotter and hotter and her cries rose and now she began to goading and taunting me, knowing it would only fuel my arousal.

"Yes, come on! Lick my pussy, lover!" she said. "Lick me clean! Yes! Come on! Lick up Hari's cum from my cunt!"

Mad with lust now, I jumped to my feet and pulled her off the chair to her knees in front of me and pushed my cock into her mouth. She took it deep into her mouth with a loud groan and began sucking me off feverishly. I cried out my pleasure for her mouth was incredible -- warm and wet and she used her tongue with a wizard's cunning.

I wanted her and I wanted her brutally, in the same way that I had seen the servant take her. I pushed her head away and made her turn around on all fours and I got behind her and thrust hard into her which made her cry out sharply. It was music to my ears. I began fucking her hard, feeling her cunt going into lust filled spasms on my cock which was now slippery with that wild cocktail of her juices, my cum and the servant's. She spurred me on, calling to me, comparing me with other men.

"Come on! Fuck me! Fuck me like the other guys do, baby! Like your servants fuck me! Come on! Do it!"

"You like them, slut? You really like fucking them, don't you?" I cried.

"Yes!" she went. "God, yes, I love it when they fuck me! All of them! Come on! Take me! Oh yes! Yes!"

And right through, with her rocking and jerking under me and my cock thrusting in and out of her cunt and my hands under her groping and squeezing her bouncing breasts, I kept thinking of her, just like this, and in a hundred other ways, with another man, and I knew with a dreadful certainty that she, too, was thinking of one of her lovers. It was irresistibly erotic.

III

SATURDAY MORNING. I woke to find that Madhu had already started her weekend with a bang -- literally. She was there, right there in the bed beside me, fucking the servant again. How long they'd been at it I had no idea. They were taking their time, going slowly, murmuring very softly. She was smiling radiantly up at him, kissing and caressing him tenderly, her hands stroking his smooth, strong, dark back. I propped myself up on my elbow to watch, grinning and instantly aroused.

"Good morning," she smiled, turning her face to me and I thought to myself how lucky I was to be married to such a beautiful, sexy, slutty woman. "Slept well?"

"Very well. You?"

"Like a log. Then he," she nodded to the servant, "came and woke me up." She giggled. "Something like an alarm cock."

I guffawed. The servant grinned, not understanding our words in English but knowing that it must be something ribald. He was bent over her on his knees between her legs, his strong arms stretched out, his knuckles on the bed. His hips were moving rhythmically up and down and in tight circles over her crotch. She was moving in a tempo to match him and now she pulled her legs up so he could go in deeper and squeezed his buttocks, pulling him deeper into her.

"Mm, that feels good, baby," she said in the vernacular. "Oh god yes, I love your cock in my pussy! It feels so good, baby!"

The youth grinned and bending his head began to suck and lick her stiff nipples. I left them and swung out of bed.

An hour later, I was on the terrace deck with a cup of coffee when she came out, freshly showered and smelling of some subtle lemony fragrance that was really nice. Her hair was tied up in a tail behind her head. She wore jeans and a completely transparent white shirt. It was unbuttoned and the ends were brought tightly together and knotted under her breasts so that a lot of cleavage and midriff showed and, through the transparent cloth, even her nipples.

"Nice?" she said pirouetting for me.

"Very nice."

"Will they want me?"

"They'd want you if you wore a parka, babe," I snorted. "You know that."

She smiled. "I'm so excited. I can't wait! When do you want to start?"

I looked at my watch. "Love, you've had enough since last night. Take it easy. It might get really ... demanding. I think we'll start off in the evening, what do you think?"

"So long to wait!" she pouted. "Can't we start earlier? Please?"

"No," I said earlier. "We can't. And you can't have a snack either."

She stuck her tongue out at me. "Spoilsport! Not even a little tickle?"

"Not even the littlest tickle."

She groaned in mock despair and I laughed and pulled her to me and kissed her, feeling her breasts press heavily against my chest.

"Let me at least suck your cock," she said softly into my mouth.

I slapped her bottom and pushed her away with a chuckle. "Stop, woman! There's going to be a lot of action later. Save your energy for that. Go on, read some sexy stuff, watch a movie or something. I've got work to do."

IV

THAT WASN'T UNTRUE. There was a lot of work to be done around the house. The roof needed work and we had a problem with a section of one wall and the pool needed cleaning. We set about, the three of us, Hari, Raju and I, stripped to our waists.

We took the pool first, drained it, cleaned it, let it dry and set it to fill again. We were almost done by lunch. I left the guys at it and went in. Madhu had fixed us -- her and me -- a light lunch of soup and salad and some cheese. We ate in the breakfast alcove and Hari came in to say that the pool was done. I thanked him, not missing the longing, lustful look that he got from my wife and told him to take a break, get something to eat and we'd start on the roof.

Through the afternoon the three of us worked till, finally, at about five, as the sun began to slide down into the sea, I called a stop. We'd found we needed some gear still and, now acting on our plan, I told Hari to come with me to the nearest store, a good 15 minutes drive away, to get it so we could finish working tomorrow. I phoned ahead and told them to keep the stuff ready.

I'd heard splashing by the pool and knew that Madhu was there, very likely in that ridiculous micro-bikini she loved, with cups that were barely the size of band-aids and panties that were hardly more than a thin thong -- they just about covered her cunt lips and, behind, left her buttocks totally exposed with the rear strand going between her butt-cheeks. I told Raju to go find out if she needed anything.