tagNovels and NovellasAdventures of Venkat Pt. 02

Adventures of Venkat Pt. 02


Chapter IV

Wife to mistress in a few short steps

I am Yamini, the fourth and last daughter of my parents. I have no brothers. I was born and brought up in Kumbakonam, a temple town in South India. My father is a clerk in a financer's office. He earns enough to meet our family's frugal life style. My sisters are all married. Their husbands are clerks too. As soon as I graduated I joined a furniture company as a sales girl. I was eighteen.

I am very pretty to look at. I am not boasting, but that is what everyone tells me. The owner of the store, Shiva, was not quite middle aged. He was tall and handsome, and very kind to those who worked in his office. We all liked him. A month after I joined I lost my virginity to Shiva. He called me into his inner office one afternoon. He made me sit on the couch and gave me coke to drink. He then held my hand. I drank the coke and allowed him to squeeze my hand. I did not resist. Finding that I was not protesting he hugged me and kissed me. I allowed him. He then removed the pallav of my sari and gently touched my breast. A thrill passed through me. I pressed his hand. Encouraged by that he unhooked my blouse and then undid my bra clasp. He released my breasts one at a time and kneaded them, and then he sucked. I liked it. He then made me lie on the sofa and lifted up my sari. He asked me to spread my thighs and I obeyed. He then undressed. I saw his penis. It was large and straight like a ruler. It was the first time I was seeing an erect penis. He unrolled a condom over it and came on top of me.

He asked me to hold his penis. I did so. He asked me to put it in. I did so. He moved for some time and then made rapid thrusts of his penis into me. He must have ejaculated for when he took his now small penis out the rubber sac was dangling with semen inside. You may be surprised that I am writing this, the most important event in the life of a woman, as if it is a school essay on a domestic animal. I am surprised too for I was without any emotion when it happened. Not excitement, not anxiety, not fear. I was totally relaxed. To this day I cannot explain why I allowed myself to be deflowered with such ease. I am not a person of low intelligence either. I was one of the top pupils in my school. It was not as if our family were loose in morals. My upbringing was strict. My sisters were good girls. I am not a good girl. I think I was born that way. I approached the event as a prostitute does during the course of her daily duties. Sometimes I regret that I yielded so readily. At other times I get the noble feeling that my beauty, like the talents of music and dance, is God given, and it is my duty to share it with others.

My parents might have got the suspicion that a relationship was developing between Shiva and myself. He was a married man, and he did not have a good reputation in the town. Soon after they arranged my marriage. The family of my future husband was very well to do. They were not at the all the people to mix with the family of an indigent clerk. I thought it was my good looks that did the trick. It was, but not quite the way I expected. Later I came to know the rottenness that lies hidden in affluent homes. I went to Madhurai, a hundred miles to the South, to live with my in-laws, as is the custom in these parts. My mother-in-law not only accepted me without dowry but also was very indulgent towards me. She was 42 years old, but looked a sprightly 35. She was a TV addict, and quite youthful in her tastes. Her husband, my father-in-law, was twelve years older than his wife. He looked much older than his age, and spent a lot of time in the puja room.

My Athai (mother-in-law in the Tamil language) would not allow me to work in the kitchen, and encouraged me to dress well, and use expensive cosmetics. It was too good to be true. My husband was not keen that we should have children soon, and he supplied me with oral contraceptive tablets. I threw them away, one every day. I had no fear of pregnancy. When in middle school a gynaecologist found out that I had infantile uterus and cannot bear babies. My Athai was aware that I was on contraception, but she did not object. This again was unusual. I could sense that some conspiracy was on. For the life of me I could not guess what it was. My parents had not told them that I could not have babies. We were bad people in that respect. In the event it was my in-laws who had the last laugh. The reason for the special privileges I enjoyed became obvious when my husband's uncle, a film producer, came one day. I had to dance and sing as he watched. He seemed pleased with my performance. It was then that I knew they were planning a movie career for me. But that was not to be. They found a less uncertain way of exploiting me

My husband was a junior executive in a firm manufacturing electronic goods. It was a big company with an all India presence. He had prospects. On the fourth month of our stay I attended an office party, a get-together for the staff and their families to meet the big boss from Madras HQ. The party was in a big hotel of the type a small town clerks daughter hears about but never has a chance to enter. The food was good, as was the entertainment of light music that followed. The big boss was a friendly person who wanted the family members of his employees to call him Tarun rather than as, 'Sir'. Tarun was in the early forties, slim and athletic, though balding. He took a lot of interest in me, but getting extra attention from men was something I was accustomed to.

'Tarun likes you,' said my husband when we reached home. A month later my husband came home in a high state of excitement. 'Yamini, you know how much I get as increment this year? Five instalments in one shot, quite unprecedented. The previous highest in the office has been only three. I am on par with assistant managers though not designated that as yet. We have assistant managers only in Madras HQ.' And he bubbled along in his happiness. My husband, though regular to duties, did not appear to be a person so extraordinary in his abilities as to get any unprecedented hike in pay. From the way the boss looked at me I suspected that I figured in it. I left it at that.

Within a fortnight my husband got orders to join the headquarters office as an assistant manager. My mother-in-law moved in with us. Life was not very different in Madras. Power cuts were less, but water scarcity was acute. Evenings were cooler.

Three months after he joined there was an office party. I met the wives of the other assistant managers. They were a gossipy lot. They seemed to know a lot about office politics. Tarun was very attentive to me, and maybe not by chance at dinner I was at the same table with him and another lady manager. We discussed music, a subject in which I had interest. But when we were leaving I was in the elevator with him along with two others not of our office. When we got out he tapped me on the cheek and said 'you are very pretty'. That evening my husband asked me about my experiences at the party. I told him, but left out that bit about the cheek tapping. My husband told me that Tarun was known to 'misbehave' with wives of his subordinates.

'You mean he pinches' I asked. My husband nodded. 'If he finds one in a quiet corner he may kiss and fondle too,' I continued.

'I don't know about that,' said my husband.

'And to promote one to senior assistant manager he may want the wife to go even further,' I said. My husband laughed.

'Well I don't know about that either,' he said. I pretended to be reading a magazine.

'What would you like my reaction to be,' I said with my eyes still on the pages of the magazine, "if he makes such a request?'

'You have to use your judgement,' he answered immediately as if he expected me to ask that question.

'Suppose I judge that it is in our best interest to humour him would you accept me back as if nothing has happened.' My husband did not say anything for almost a minute.

'I would respect your judgement,' he said. The mystery of the promotion was solved. My husband was not unwilling to share his wife with his boss.

I have of course heard stories of how weaknesses in the big bosses are made use of by his subordinates to climb up in the company. It happens in the army and the civil services too. It is in private firms where the big boss is the owner and has total control that it occurs in the most florid form. I was game to the adventure.

I was curious to find what my mother-in-law thought about it. But first I had to know how much her son has told her. I waited for her to start the topic about the party. She did that afternoon.

"How did you like the party?" she asked.

"Athai, the big man was very attentive to me." The old lady went into a fit of hacking laughter.

"Pretty women turn them on," she said.

"What should I do?"

"Humour him of course."

"If he pinches?"

"Did he pinch you?"

"This time he did not, but next time he would."

"Why are you so sure?"

"I can sense it. What should I do?"

"Say it pains you."

"If it does not pain."

"What does a pinch of two amount to?"

That for me was a complete answer.

From the servants and neighbours I came to know more about the family. The father was a child of rich man's concubine and my Athai, when she was a young woman, was involved in an affair with a neighbour.

Two weeks later one morning Tarun called. I told him that my husband had gone to office. He said he knew but wanted to talk to me. We had a pleasant chat. The topic was a continuation of the subject we were discussing in the party about music, both light and classical. He said that he would like to meet me to analyse an article he is writing about the use of classical ragas in cinema music. I said I would have to ask my husband and mother-in-law before I agree. He wanted to know if I had any objection. I said I had none. Athai was enthusiastic, and my husband readily agreed. When he called me the next day I said that I was game. He fixed the morning two days later for the discussion (as he called it). He asked me to come to a hotel with my mother-in-law.

We took a taxi. I was rather intimidated by the imposing men guarding that place, but I spotted Tarun who was waiting for us in the lounge. He came out and took us to a room. He ordered coffee and snacks, and we talked for a long while. My Athai, ordinarily a very talkative person was silent that day. I suspected it was by arrangement. Mother and son were using me as bait. I relished the adventure.

Tarun was genuinely interested in music. He knew classical music. I was also trained in music and liked light music as it occurred in the movies. We had an animated discussion for we had different opinions on the place of classical music in movies songs. We became friends.

He held my hands. I darted a glance at Athai. She was looking away.

"May I go and sit in the lounge?" she asked.

"No," said the boss. "For me to be alone with your daughter-in-law in this room would not be proper. But you need not be looking away. Please be natural. Please sit on the opposite sofa and watch." She immediately moved to the opposite sofa.

We were discussing tune of a recent hit. I said that a different rendering of the tune would improve it and demonstrated how I wanted it done. My neck was stretched as I was handing a difficult part of the tune when he kissed me on the side of the neck. After that he kissed me on the lips. He removed the pallav of my sari and placed his hand on one breast. He undid the blouse buttons, and then as he hugged me he unclasped my bra. I did not resist. I helped him rather. If it had been my husband and the place our locked bedroom I would not have acted differently. It seemed so unlike for Tarun, a man with such cultured behaviour, and a lover of classical music, to do something so atrocious as seduce a woman in front of her mother-in-law. He had his reasons, as I was to know later. But the reaction of my Athai was unbelievable. She was unabashedly enjoying a live show from a ringside seat.

With my help he removed my blouse and bra. He sucked my nipples and kneaded my breasts. Soon we he was working on my sari, and I was in the nude. I helped undress him. I darted a glance at Athai. She was trembling with excitement. The pallav of her sari had fallen off her shoulder and she was displaying a very decent valley. I smiled. Tarun wanted to know why I smiled. I said that I was wondering if mother-in-law would undress and join us. He turned her way and laughed. The senior had removed her blouse buttons exposing her breasts. She was amply endowed.

We then got into frenzy. He licked my clitoris till I had an orgasm, and then he entered and we had orgasms together. After my third I relaxed. I turned towards Athai. She was reclining on the sofa with breasts exposed, and legs up, with vulva on display. If one could have unleashed young men on her she would have thoroughly enjoyed a gangbang.

"Mother-in-law is cross-eyed with excitement," I told Tarun. "We can't leave her high and dry."

"Yes it would be cruel to leave her in this state." He took the phone and spoke for a while. Soon there was a delicate tap. A strapping young man was standing at the door as if waiting for orders. Five Star hotel services I knew were wide ranging, but I did not suspect that it was this comprehensive.

"This is auntie," said Tarun. He came to her and took her by the hand and led her to the other cot. The half screen between the cots was only five feet high. When Athai was astride him her face was visible. The old lady would never forget the experience of that day, and I can never forget the sight of her striding on him, turning this way and that, with a bewildered look. Then she jumped up and down in frenzy, and at the climax she screamed softly. They separated. After a moving farewell she let her partner leave. She retreated into the bathroom and came out like a flower in bloom. She hugged me, and then she thanked Tarun.

"Would you mind if I ask Yamini to stay with me?" he asked.

"Forever?" asked the old lady.


"If she so wishes," she said, reluctantly I thought. He turned towards me. I nodded. I was of no further use to my husband. To get away would be the proper thing to do.

The old lady hugged me. She was in a daze after an emotion packed hour of action, but she had the thought to bless me before she turned and hurriedly walked away.

"Any regrets?" asked Tarun.

"I may miss the old lady," I said.

"I like her too," said Tarun.

That's how I became the mistress of Tarun


Simple solution to an erection problem

Tarun set me up in an independent bungalow in an exclusive suburb. Everyday he had lunch with me and stayed on till three in the afternoon. He came home on Friday evening to be with me till Sunday morning. I was surprised that though he cuddled and fondled and licked till he gave me orgasms we never had sexual intercourse for a week. He never undressed below the waist either. I could not understand why. During the course of our lovemaking I had felt his penis. It was turgid, but never hard enough for penetration. But in the hotel room I had normal intercourse with him. What was the explanation? That weekend Tarun provided the answer.

He was inviting a couple for the weekend. They came on Friday evening. The man was about Tarun's age, and the woman about five years younger. Tarun introduced them to me as Jaswant and his wife Meenu.

After dinner the cook cleaned up and left. We went to the music room and listened to classical music for a while. Tarun turned to me and suggested that we change. He said he would like me to wear a dress he had got for me that day. I opened the box. It was a frock of thin material with spaghetti straps. 'Wear it without bra and knickers,' he said. It came up to mid thighs.

I liked myself in that dress. When Jaswant saw me he give a resounding wolf whistle. We all laughed, Meenu more than the rest of us. She had a dress similar to mine but with wider straps.

We sat on double sofas facing each other, Tarun and I on one said, and Jaswant and Meenu on the other. It was clear to me that there was no way I could preserve my modesty. I just relaxed, as did Meenu. If Jaswant saw as much of me as I saw of Meenu then there could be no secrets between us. Tarun nuzzled me, and then he kissed, and then be lifted my skirt and as I lay on the sofa he licked me. I spread out and held his head with finger entwined in his hair. I turned to see what our guests were doing. Jaswant was already on top of Meenu. Tarun gave me a very satisfactory orgasm by licking alone. I demanded loudly that he enter me there and then and he did. He was hard and he filled me. Now I knew that Tarun needed spectators to perform. I had no objection. Rather, I liked it too. I decided to be supportive and never put him in a position where his inadequacy would stand revealed. We had it two more times that night, all in the company of our guests. They left the next morning.

The next weekend we went to a Five Star beach resort, and there we met Viswam and his wife Shama. We had a large bedroom with a king sized cot. With curtains drawn and light blazing we had the time of our life, all four of us crowded on one cot. But swinging was not on the agenda. Even king sized beds do not have ample space for four persons. To rub against another couple while lovemaking is one of the most delicious experiences of life.

Tarun had a library stocked with books about sex. Many were very expensive publications with vivid photographs. It was not pornographic literature, rather like scientific studies. The books were in chaste English. I read most of them. I learnt a lot about sex. Men seem to have many strange desires. Some enjoy seeing their wives nude in the presence of other men, some like to have sex with their wives in the presence of others, and of course there are those who like wife sharing. It would appear that there are husbands who are turned on when they see their wives have sex with other men in their presence. I wondered how I would feel if my husband was this latter type. Honestly I would have no problem pleasing him. I am of the view that any sexual activity that freely consenting adults indulge in is proper, even incest.

I had a splendid time with Tarun. We went to Darjeeling for the summer, and to Agra to see the Taj by moonlight. Flying business class and staying in Five Star hotels was heady stuff for a clerk's daughter. One evening we went to a hotel for a show. The last item in the programme was the celebrated Seven Veil Dance. The girl peeled off her dresses one by one till she was stark naked, and that was how she danced for almost three minutes. The audience, consisting mostly of men, went riotous with enthusiasms.

"What's your reaction to this dance?" asked Tarun.

"I am certainly not disgusted as many women pretend to be. If there are people wanting it let them have it."

"Would you mind appearing nude in public?"

"In a place where all women are in the nude I would have no problem being nude too. And would you mind my being so?"

"In a place where all women are like that I would be thrilled to see you also nude. It would be very powerful turn-on."

One weekend we went several miles on the coast road. It was a dry, almost deserted place with no habitation in sight for miles and miles. I could never have imagined that in an overcrowded country like India we could have such a place. We turned into a side road and soon came to a compound surrounded by high walls. The gate was so solid that one could not see what was going on inside. Tarun spoke to the jawan on duty. He checked some papers that Tarun gave him, spoke into the intercom, and then opened the gate. It was lush and green inside. One wondered from where they got all that water. He drove in and parked the car. We entered the lounge. Tarun spoke to a lady at the counter. She seemed to know him. 'Room 34' said the lady and we went down the corridor and found the room at the end. Tarun asked me to sit down on the sofa; he sat by my side.

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