Cuckolded by Disgusting Neighbor Ch. 09

Story continued due to the encouragement I have been receiving over several years. I would encourage fellow readers to try alternative, parallel development of this story on their own if the beauty and beast subject excites them.

The story contains very strong elements of cuckolding; please stop if this offends you. You have been warned!

I was listless the whole night. Life had taken such a radical turn; something that I didn't anticipate. It took me a while to come to terms with my wife's new found enthusiasm for our elderly neighbor. As explained earlier, what bothered me was the openness with which she decided to make me her cuckold.

I expected Manisha and Kishanchanji to savor the whole night. Neither of them showed up in the morning as per the regular routine. Up until the time I left for work for my meeting with Amirchanji, they were still asleep. Drudging yourself through work while having a stiff erection is always a challenge. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted her to get pregnant and deliver a child in exactly nine months. It only seemed befitting.

I dreaded calling home to talk to Manisha but then my phone rang. It was an unknown number and I picked it up to see who it was. It was Mamta, Kishanchanji's elder daughter. She wanted to talk to me urgently and asked me to head to Kishanchanji's place at earliest convenience. She warned me not to let anyone know; not even my wife and Kishanchanji. The fear of getting caught in the act gnawed me from the inside. I suspected that Mamta knew about the relationship.

Summoning courage, I headed home. It wasn't easy entering Kishanchanji's house without getting noticed but I managed to push the bell keeping myself concealed from our house to the extent possible. I expected Kishanchanji to be at our home, so wasn't worried about getting caught by him. Mamta opened the door and let me in and then carefully closed the door. She took my hand, gesturing me to keep quiet, and lead me to the downstairs guest bedroom. My heart was thumping wildly from the fear of what she was about to show me. I thought she was leading me to catch Kishanchanji and Manisha in a compromising position in front of me. However, it wasn't just me who was sweating; she too was nervous. Mamta was couple of years elder to me and I always fancied her. Over the years she put on weight and was now rather plump. However, her adorable face still retained the same charm. She had more of wheatish complexion - a mixture of her mother's and Kishanchanji's complexion. She of course had pretty features just like her mother and was cute to say the least. She had slightly roundish face with medium sized lips and wide smile. Her eyes were big and beautiful and her hair long and dense. She was a mother of two kids already and all that showed on her waist. As these thoughts sailed through my mind, she led me to the guest bedroom and opened the door. To my surprise and satisfaction, it was empty. She closed the door after me and after having carefully bolted the door, she turned towards me. There was only a moment's hesitation before she embraced me. She didn't waste much time and pulled me into a kiss. It was swift. She didn't allow me any chance to fend her off but given my attraction towards her I didn't think of that as a real possibility. She kissed me passionately and I didn't hesitate either. It was the first time I kissed another woman. It was a surreal experience. I thought about the privilege that Manisha was having. Her body odor was different, her body dimensions were different and her approach was different. Instead of pushing her tongue into my mouth, she focused more on sucking my lip and encouraged me to do the same. Manisha's approach was to swirl her tongue around mine and exchange copious amount of saliva in the process. We didn't exchange any words and she quickly pulled on the bed and urged me to penetrate her.

"Don't worry," she said as I wondered about the possibility of taking her bare back, "I have already had the operation."

She was plump but not fat. And for her age she just seemed perfect. Irrespective of her dimensions the satisfaction she gave me was very much on par with what I experienced with Manisha. She kissed me a lot more than I expected and surprisingly she didn't have any kind of inhibitions. We didn't engage in any other kind of sexual activity apart from missionary style sex that afternoon. She encouraged me to cum inside her and was extremely satisfied by the time I did. Her pussy was rather dilated for my taste but she enjoyed the brief interlude with me.

As she tidied her clothes, she quipped, "You may be wondering how this all came about."

"I assured Manisha that if she became my father's wife then I would return the favor wholeheartedly."

Her sentence took my breath away. And for a moment I didn't understand what kind of quandary I walked into but she immediately assured me, "Your secret is safe with me."

"I don't want my husband to find out about the affair with you either."

It seemed that Manisha had already planned for this but I wasn't sure that was indeed the case. Just as I thought of last night's episode with Kishanchanji. Turns out that these actions independently determined my fate but the primary motive was Kishanchanji's satisfaction.

"When did this happen?"

"And why are you doing this?" I asked stunned by her cavalier approach.

"I am sorry if this has hurt you but this wouldn't have happened if you weren't willing," she started.

"But I have been blindsided by yours and Manisha's evil plans."

"Oh come on; please don't cast any aspersions on Manisha's intentions."

"You know that she is doing for your mutual pleasure."

"Besides you too would be having the fringe benefits," she added.

"Even Malini is on the plan," she added. Malini was her younger sister, couple of years elder to Manisha. So, these two beautiful ladies were willing to entertain me, just so that their father could make out with my wife. Weird I thought. What seemed weirder was how they must have corned my wife into it.

"Our relationship - yours and mine - would be lifelong," she said.

"All I ask is that you extend the agreement to three years."

It seemed Manisha had shared with them everything. I didn't think her father would do anything of that sort.

"Do you realize how scandalous that sounds?"

"And," she said ignoring my remark, "you would encourage her to conceive from my father."

"What kind of crazy pot are you folks on?"

"Why are you folks doing this?"

"Wait," she said, "Malini is contemplating on giving an opportunity to plant your seeds."

The suddenness of the events and the rapid pace at which things were unfolding stunned me. Come to think of it - this is how it should have been. Why was I thinking that? I was the architect of my wife's philandering. It was hers if not Mamta and Malini's sowing. Malini unlike her sister was a little fairer and much thinner. She never had the contours of her elder sister and neither did she have the beauty of her elder sister but she was pretty and had the fair complexion to go with it. However, her frail body and almost flat chest never evoked any special kind of feeling. I would have much rather preferred inseminating Mamta, who was perhaps wholesome and more feminine.

"You still didn't answer my question?"

"We are doing it for our father and he is mostly doing to humiliate you," she said nonchalantly.

"However, in this case, he seems to genuinely like her and with your cooperation he may actually have an eventful second marriage."

"Why Manisha?"

"Because she is beautiful; more importantly she is your wife."

"It may, however, never have escalated to this level if Manisha and you weren't willing."

"Why are you so cryptic?"

"You would understand as things progress - just remember to let my father enjoy his new marriage and we would make sure you are never sexually deprived."

"What sort of a proposal is that?"

"We are counting on him knocking her up three times - and don't worry about the financial implications of raising a large family. He would take care of everything for them."

My head was whirling. I had known Mamta for several years but never did I realize once that she would be such a bitch. On the contrary, she always seemed to be of pleasant disposition.

"Mamta," I pleaded, holding her hand and making her sit on the bed, "I really need to understand this."

"Please be kind to me."

For once, the kindness in her eyes returned and she had a mellowed expression on her face. She looked at me intently. Her abrasiveness; rather her harried nature stopped for a few moments. She contemplated on what to say and what not to.

"Vinit," she said, "a zillion questions may be floating through your mind."

"And you may be now suspecting Manisha's love and her dedication to your family."

"But," she said, holding my hand carefully in hers, "I assure you that this is not reflection of her love."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Vinit, trust me," she said in a concerned tone, "I wouldn't lie to you."

"It is not ordinary, I agree," she added, "but then so would be my relationship with you as well."

"Mamta it is not comforting," I responded, "but it would be if you shared the truth."

"What truth?"

"How does it matter?"

"Why do men crave for such things?" she blurted out in frustration. Mamta was visibly upset. It seems she didn't want to share the details but I had put her in a dilemma.

"Look," she said, "just simply accept that my father can pleasure your wife far better than you ever could imagine."

"All those women over the years didn't show up for no good reason," she shot at me.

"But," I interjected trying to calm her down, "I am not complaining."

"I would just like to understand it."

She gave me a weird look and said, "First accept it."

"What?"

"Accept that my father is a better lover for her."

It was one thing to admit it in front of your wife and quite another to do so in front of someone else. My silence conveyed my answer but that didn't please her.

"Such is the hypocrisy of men."

"Most men live in their secluded world imagining that they are the best in everything."

"Don't get me wrong," she argued, "you are a better lover than my husband."

"But there is a chasm between you and my father."

"Manisha needs someone like him to justify the beauty nature has bestowed on her."

"You are not in a state to understand," she gave me a smirk.

"Remember," She said, "whether you like it or not, she has taken him as her husband."

"There is no backing down."

"Keep our relationship a secret and you wouldn't regret it," she said smiling.

I headed back to my office after that. I wasn't sure I was prepared for what awaited me at home yet. Amirchanji wasn't terribly upset with me for not showing up last night but there was tons of work that needed my attention. Manisha's call brought me back to my current situation.

She asked, "Aren't you coming home?"

"It would be dinner time soon." I checked my watch; it was already 7:30pm. Surprisingly I didn't realize once I got into my work.

"Would be home in half-an-hour," I replied.

"Come soon," she quipped.

Manisha opened the door for me eagerly. She had been waiting for me. Kishanchanji was watching TV, I thought. After bolting the door, she latched onto my lips and kissed me passionately. She was fresh. Her hair had mild fragrance of the shampoo and her body had the tenderness and warmth that only comes after taking a hot shower. She was hot and pushed me into the downstairs restroom and locked the door.

"I have been hungry for you," she exclaimed between the kisses.

"Why?"

"Hasn't he made you with you today?" I asked.

"Are you kidding?"

"He fucked me five times since last night already!"

"I feel like making out with you as well," she reasoned and continued her kissing.

There was something about her kissing that evening. It instilled a great deal of faith in my ability to pleasure her as a man. It is always difficult to find yourself in an inferior position and particularly so when it comes to the sex department. However, quite often, and this is my realization over the past several years, it is not a question of either-or. It is simply a question of the delicate balance between the two options and their relative priorities.

The dinner was ordinary; just seemed nothing had transpired. Manisha had already moved my stuff to the guest room. Kishanchanji headed to bed early, perhaps exhausted by the activities during the day. Manisha and I stayed back and spend time with each other. We didn't talk much about what happened but just shared our feelings of the current situation. She didn't allow me to makeout with her, promising that sometime during the night she would drop in after Kishanchanji fucks her.

Manisha didn't show up that night. She shared later that he did screw her in the wee hours but the action had left little desire to see me. There was a repeat of same welcome from her again. Her pristine state surprised me again. Inside the restroom, I asked again,

"What's up with your fresh breath?"

"Do you folks keep busy all day?"

"Well that's there and then I wanted to be fresh and ready for you."

I was puzzled by her reaction. She had aimed earlier to keep herself in the stale state and make out in that state with me.

"Really?" I asked, showing my surprise.

"Vinit," she seethed, "fantasy is good within limits."

"I have always liked keeping myself fresh and ready for you," she added.

"Besides you have given me the best gift."

We kissed passionately. My life had change significantly in the past few days but seeing her love for me, I realized that perhaps this phase of our life is not as bad as it seemed to me originally. However, one should not mistake a desert to an oasis after spending a few days at one.

"What gift?" I asked her breaking the kiss.

"Getting the middle aged bull for your wife," she whispered.

"He is quite something; fucks me three times everyday."

"There is no stopping him," she uttered. I chuckled.

"Seriously Vinit," she exuded, "in the past month we had more sex than we did in the first three months of our marriage."

She looked beautiful in the dim glow of the light in the restroom. Her face glowed. And it just seemed it was the result of the sexual satisfaction.

"And you know what he is a total pervert," she exclaimed excitedly.

"You will get know about it slowly."

"BTW, he wants to go on a cruise for honeymoon."

"He didn't want you to be around," she said, "but I insisted."

"Honeymoon?" I frowned at the audacity of the old man. But then we both had given him the leeway.

"We are going this Friday," she said. She kissed me again and headed out.

"And BTW," she said, slithering back into my arms again, "the stale breath and unhygienic conditions can be arranged on special days."

The next three days were the repeat and none of those times she made it to the guest bedroom.

It wasn't clear what the bad new was - whether it was that she was going for honeymoon with him or that I would be forced to tag along with them.

It meant more abstinence for me; at least at home I kissed her on a regular basis. However, when she reminded me to carry my condoms, I knew that there would be some action for me. It was great news as I hadn't had intercourse with her for the whole month now.

Kishanchanji had returned to his normal self and apart from the time he spent alone with her, he behaved normally I hoped there wouldn't be much of his misbehavior again.

Without much fanfare we checked into the cruise ship. We were spending three nights and four days on the cruise. Manisha definitely must have planned for a splendid honeymoon, keeping me on the verge all along I thought.

I wondered how she would manage her motherhood duties and yet pleasure her new husband. Tushar was only a little more than a year old, so it was unlikely that I could take care of him the whole night. Little did I realize that it was not a quandary for her at all. Instead of separate rooms for both us, she opted for a better room with the view of ocean but only one for all the three of us. It was tiny - only about 120-150 square feet but had essentially space for sleeping of four individuals.

There was a private balcony and right next to the entrance of the balcony was the double bed. On the left side there was the bathroom and by the side of the bathroom; the small alley that lead to the main entrance had a bunker bed on one side while the TV and entertainment system was right opposite to it. It was cramped but I felt it was better than having two separate rooms that could have cost a fortune. The added advantage was that the double bed was only about 5-6 feet from the edge of the bunker bed where I would most likely be based. It would be safe for Tushar to sleep on the lower bed, so the elevated seat offered me the best possible position in that setting.

The song and dance started that very night. Tushar having suckled on her Mother's breasts for about half hour was blissfully asleep. She had already prepared herself for the event. Kishanchanji was in the bathroom and when she put him to bed and turned to me and kissed me lightly on my lips.

"This is it," she whispered, snaking her tongue out to trace my lips, "Kishanchanji would not be voluntarily yielding his place in the bed."

"Did you get your condoms?" she asked, sexily. I nodded. Her eyes conveyed the excitement.

"You can enjoy the feeling of dipping it in tonight then."

"Can't assure that you would feel much, though," she teased and left me.

"Honey," he said, stepping towards her, sneering at me, "wouldn't this invade our privacy?"

"It would have been better if we had a separate room."

"Kishanchanji, I am your wife," she answered, leading him to the bed, "there is no need to hide anything."

"We keep the lights off or dim them but there is no reason for us to curtail our activities."

"Can't he overhear it?"

"Most likely he can, he isn't far away," she said looking at me, knowing very well that I would have wanted this way.

"But," she said in her assured tone, stepping closer to him, "Honey he needs to know that you treat your wife well."

"I promise," she said, looking at me, "he would be obedient."

She switched off the lights and kissed him right there in front of me. It took me a few moments for my eyes to get adjusted but the lights from the bathroom area allowed me to see the silhouettes. She pushed him back on the bed and proceeded to give him a blow job. The next hour was agonizingly painful for me as I heard the moaning and slurping sounds of my wife. He took her in all kinds of positions before unloading into her. She fellated him at least twice already I thought and I saw her do that again after he lay on his back. She obediently cleaned him up before settling back on the bed. I wondered when the next time would be as I dozed off. And then I felt a hand on my stomach. It slid within a few moments to my pecker that had shrunk back to normal size.

Manisha was standing by the bed and nuzzling my neck as her hand moved into my underwear and massaged my penis. As I woke from my slumber, she kissed me. Her tongue darted into my mouth in no time. Her breath was stale and reeked of semen. Not that mine was any better. I kissed her back as soon as I realized that it wasn't a dream. My penis swelled very soon in her hand. It just seemed that I would get to penetrate her. Her hand gently squeezed my sacs as well that had been working overtime producing semen that had no place to go but into the filthy condom. She climbed up on the berth and laid on top me and continued her kissing. It was very tight with little wiggle room but I didn't mind. She ground her hips against my pelvis, rubbing my penis but her whole attention was on the kissing. She was practically drooling in my mouth; something very unusual of her but the wetness provided a lot of satisfaction to both of us. I moved to her breasts and latched onto her breasts that were leaking milk. It usually happened when she was extremely excited. And she had shared that Kishanchanji loved draining her milk. In fact, her milk production had actually increased very much in the past month and she suspected that she may not get easily pregnant even though her periods had started.