Cuckolded by Disgusting Neighbor Ch. 07

Manisha's fascination with him and her confession about the cravings left little doubt in my mind that she intensely desired sex with him and it wasn't just for recreation but also for procreation. Kishanchanji was old but Manisha was very young, if we indeed did contemplate on accepting the proposal she may deliver another baby in about a year's time frame. It was clear if we did want to pursue "Choice 6" then we shouldn't delay it any further.

She had prepared herself in anticipation of entertaining Kishanchanji. Would she allow him to take unprotected, I thought? Even if she had done away with the pill, she may still not be ready to get pregnant I thought. Yet, this evening may actually be a seminal event of our life.

Manisha always knew that she was incredibly beautiful. Even so, she walked around the house flaunting her beauty shamelessly, doing mindless chores and ignoring my presence. Was it simply an act to avoid looking at me or was it more subtle? Not many wives would write such an explicit letter to their husband and have the courage to look into their eyes. Whatever reservations I had about my impending fate were melting away. The heat she emanated was irresistible. And no, I wasn't thinking of taking her in my arms and making lover to her. It was the thought of Kishanchanji making out with her in this state came to my mind.

"Are you going to just stare at me or prepare me for my husband?" she shot at me. I was stunned with her words as it took a few moments for me to register them. It was the directness and condescending tone that didn't escape my attention. She had an air of supreme authority as if she knew what was about to transpire.

"What are you waiting for?" she again said, shaking me from my reverie.

What I hadn't noticed is that she had turned off most of the lights in the house as we were about to leave. She switched off the last light in the kitchen as she waited for my answer. It was fairly dark but we could see each other as silhouettes. She stood by the kitchen wall facing the stairs waiting for me to make my move.

"Aren't you ready?" I blurted.

"For the dinner - yes," she said, "but not for the occasion."

Observing my confused state, she said, "Why don't you kneel down, so I can explain." Without any emotion, I kneeled down right at the spot I stood, by the stairs. She ambled sexily, her waist gently swayed side-to-side, to the place I waited for her. It must have been less than 10 steps but every step of hers was deliberate. She stood there right in front of me; my face level with her groin. When my hands moved up to hug her, she pushed them away.

"Don't spoil my saree," she said in her stern voice.

In the darkness, I felt the sexual heat emanating from her just as I could hear my heart thumping away inside my chest. Her dominance, melted away my adamance. It would have been a shame if I hadn't admitted what my ultimate choice was.

As I waited patiently, she lifted her Saree slowly. It was evident what she really wanted me to do. Just a moment later, she straddled my face, having picked up her Saree carefully. My mouth found her soaked pantie that was wet with her own juices. Never did I find her so profusely lubricated. There wasn't any other odor but the odor that a female in heat would have. It didn't have the fragrance of soap nor did it have the pungent odor of sweat. It was pristine, perfectly washed and cleaned for her new husband. I pleased her with my tongue in that awkward position for next ten minutes. All the while I wrote with my index finger on her left inner thigh the number 6. In other words, I was conveying my choice to her in a subtle manner. She had let the Saree drop around me as I remained concealed inside pleasuring her. Her tender pussy lips had flared up by the time I was done with her. She was ready for her new bull - emotionally and physically - I thought.

As we stood up, she gave me a peck on my lips, saying, "Looks like you have already decided," and groping my engorged penis trapped in my trousers.

"Let's go," she said, holding my hand.

"I need to get ready," I complained.

"For what?"

"Are you telling me that you really want to end this or not take it any further?"

"No."

"Then you are ready for the occasion."

"It is K's and my anniversary if you remember," she added

It seems Manisha already knew what the result would be or perhaps she was clear about what she really wanted. So Manisha dressed like a newly wedded bride and I dressed like an office going clerk stepped out.

to be contd....