Indian Wife & Construction Guys Ch. 05.5

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Confessions and conclusions.
2.6k words
3.93
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Part 5 of the 6 part series

Updated 07/09/2023
Created 11/14/2018
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shiprat
shiprat
917 Followers

I slay slumped over the mattress leaking from my cunt and breathing and moaning heavily. Fatima and Shabnam were both looking exhausted too, and moaning writhing themselves. Our man himself though, Sajid, after a bravura performance, seemed only slightly winded. Fatima slowly crawled over and started lapping at my pussy and cleaning it up. Shabanm crawled to Sajid started licking his dick clean.

There was a lot of heavy breathing and sighing in the room. The two wives seemed completely spent. Each of them curled up wherever she was and looked about to pass out. I was feeling sleepy too, but I knew my lover better than to expect this to be the end of the night's activities. He pulled me over into his embrace and started pawing me all over, playing with my tits, my nipples, and rubbing my pussy. I also fondled and kissed and licked his sweaty hairy body.

I had never been able to be completely honest with Tarun about the extent and frequency of Sajid and my sex romps, in case Tarun felt slighted or emasculated in comparison. Tarun was a very good, gentle, and virile lover himself, and I had never been dissatisfied with him. But in terms of sheer stamina, Sajid was on a whole other level altogether. Except the very first time he had fucked me, when he came into a condom quickly, he had shown tremendous staying power.

What was even more remarkable was how quickly he was ready to go again. Especially if I used my oral skills on him. I usually recovered and started feeling horny myself in about fifteen minutes. Or rather, I never stopped feeling horny. Back when he still used to have conversations with me, he had told me no one used the mouth, the tongue, and the fingers quite like I did. So as long as I was willing to go down on him right away, which I almost always did after regaining my breath, we had not found the limits to his stamina or appetite. How much and how often we had sex was limited only by practical concerns like his job or my family.

He was proud of his stamina and said a main reason he was a serial philanderer and polygamist was that he always wore women out. Be it his wife or one of his many mistresses, he had not found anyone who could keep up with his full-tilt pounding for more than once or twice in a day. And they usually needed a long rest to recover. But in me, he said, he had finally found his match. His sexual soul-mate, he used to say.

And I guess that's why he felt so upset and slighted when he caught me "cheating" on him. Because he realized that I was more than just a match for him in appetite and stamina and lust. I exceeded it. Even with my husband making love to me regularly during the night and Sajid at that time banging me at whenever he could sneak away from work during the day, I had given in to the advances of two of his fellow construction workers.

Of course, calling it "cheating" was ridiculous. Given Sajid's own complete lack of morals, in addition to the fact that we were both married to other people, there was no infidelity in that relationship. I had no emotional or societal attachment to him. I was not beholden to him. And I am sure he did not really expect commitment as such. My fucking those other men just seemed to demonstrate to him that he was not the sexual alpha anymore. It was me. And it dented his lifelong arrogance about his sexual prowess and abilities. The tattoo on my ass was more to compensate for this new insecurity than anything else.

Anyway, this night, I had spent five minutes with him in my mouth, bringing him back to an erect state. I felt he was ready. And I got on all fours. He lined up his dick and the pounding started. The hut was filled with the familiar sounds of our skins slapping. Shabnam had fallen asleep by now. Fatima was watching us groggily, half a smile on her face. I wondered if she might join us. But soon she was also asleep.

And in that dark hut illuminated by just star light from a window, as my tits swung back and forth rapidly, I felt the same ecstatic waves that had gotten me addicted to this arrogant boor of a man.

--

"Sister, wake up." I felt Fatima's voice at my ear again.

"Hmmm?" I was naked except for the bra, next to a snoring Sajid. Shabnam was putting her clothes on in the corner.

"It is almost dawn. We are going to take baths before it gets bright. Will you be able to walk with us?"

"Yes, sure." I said, stretching and getting up to get dressed.

A few minutes later, the three of us were silently walking in the darkness towards the washing pond. Fatima and Shabnam both seemed still exhausted and not fully recovered from the assault. There was some groaning and bending of legs once in a while. I felt some compassion for them both. We had been bonded by a perverted and memorable foursome. Being stacked on top of each other and then fucked is not something I was expecting.

"What did you eat growing up?" Fatima said and chuckled.

"Excuse me?"

"Your stamina. My god! He banged you two more times, didn't he?"

I blushed and nodded.

"Real whore." Shabnam grumbled and spat, this time at the ground.

I stopped and raised my voice a little.

"Okay, what the hell is your problem, Shabnam? Why do you hate me so much even now?"

She glared at me and said,

"Just because he fucked you stacked on top of me does not change anything."

"But what is your problem?" I asked. "You yourself were once having a fling with him. Why are you so angry at me?"

"Because you're not one of us, but you're acting like you are." she said and started walking.

I followed her not intending to let this topic slide.

"You mean because I am not a Muslim?"

"Not that. I don't care about Hindu Muslim or whatever."

"Then?"

"Aapa, Fatima and I...we are like sisters. We are part of this journey together. Yes, I started off having a purely sexual affair with the man. But then I became part of this family. Had his kids, built a life with him. A shared life, yes, but still, a life. You...you're like a tourist."

"A tourist?"

"Yes, a tourist. This is not real to you. This is some housewife fantasy that you are living out. You have no idea of the realities of being with that man, other than as a fuck toy."

"Take it easy, Shabnam." Fatima said patiently. "She's not the first woman he banged on the side nor will she be the last."

"But she is the first one he brought home."

"He brought me home. And you."

"Yes. As wives. And we became part of it together."

"So what? You want me to leave my husband and marry him too? Is that what you're saying?" I asked.

"Of course not. I just don't understand why you are here. He was fucking you well and good in your house. Why did you have to come all the way here to make the rest of us feel inadequate?"

"I didn't come here to make anyone feel inadequate."

"I wish you would just go away."

"I am going away. Forever. Very soon." I said.

Shabnam stopped. We were at the edge of the pond.

"You are?" she seemed a little pleased.

"My husband has gotten transferred to Delhi. In less than a week, we will moving there permanently. And then I can be out of your lives forever. Happy?"

There was an awkward silence. Fatima chuckled a little. The two of them started taking their clothes off. I did so too. Soon the three of us were naked in the pond, washing ourselves.

"So this is like a goodbye fuck trip? Is that why he asked you to come along?" Fatima waded a little closer.

"He actually did not ask me." I said. "I asked him. And I have not told him I am moving to Delhi forever."

Even Fatima, who was usually very calm about this whole thing seemed confused.

"Wait...I first thought he brought you here as a trophy to show off to everyone. Now I thought it was because he would not be getting those lovely lips wrapped around his dick anymore, so he wanted to make the most of the time remaining. But it was your idea?"

"Yes." I said.

"That makes me hate you even more." Shabnam said, getting out of the water and drying herself.

The conversation pretty much died there. I wanted to say more but did not want to do it without Zahra present. We three got dressed and started walking back. As we approached the house, Zahra was going in the other direction with a couple of empty pots.

"One of you, come with me to fill water." she said in that businesslike elder matron way.

"Take the slut along. I can't stand her." Shabnam started walking.

"Wait. Please." I said and she stopped. "I need to tell you three something important."

They waited. It took me a few moments to gather the courage and finally spit it out.

"I am pregnant."

There was absolute silence for a few seconds.

"Is it Sajid's?"

I nodded. They processed this information.

"How can you be sure?" Shabnam said. "I heard you fucked many other men. And also there's your husband. And Sajid told me you always had him wear a condom. Until very recently when you started taking birth control."

"I know it is his." I said. "Yes, I would always make him wear a condom. But you know his...speed and energy. A couple of times, I felt it tear."

"And the other men...your husband? How can you be sure it's his?" Shabnam pressed on.

"Don't be stupid, Shabnam. Why would this woman insist the baby is Sajid's? It's not like he's some millionaire who she can ask for money."

"Does he know?" Zahra calmly asked.

"No, I haven't told him. Not about the baby. Not about the fact that my family and I are shifting to Delhi in a few days. I stopped insisting on condoms after I found out about the pregnancy. What's the point, I thought. So I lied to him that I have started taking the pill. Not that he cared either way."

"He is not one to really care about such things." Fatima said. "But wow...our hubby knocked up a Brahmin memsaab!"

"But I still don't..." Shabnam started grumbling.

"Yes, I slept with two other men from the site. Three if you count my husband. But the doctor told me the approximate date of conception. And on those days, it was only Sajid. And I remember the condom tearing during one of those times. In my mind, there's no doubt it's his."

"Hmmm...that answers somewhat why you came here." Zahra said. "What is your plan?"

"I...have no plan. I came here so I could get a first hand look at his real life. His family. His village...his wives." I said.

"Why? You want to move in permanently? Leave your rich life and become his fourth wife?" Shabnam was still being a bitch.

"No. I have no emotional attachment of any kind with Sajid. It is purely sexual. I just feel that maybe I owe it to the child to somehow...keep the father in the mix. And understand where half of the child's genes come from. Maybe have some sort of interaction. I don't know."

"Are you going to tell Sajid?" Fatima asked.

"Doesn't he deserve to know? Won't it be unfair to keep it a secret."

"Hah," Zahra scoffed. "Sajid doesn't give a shit about his kids. He has nine with us. At least three bastards that I know of for sure from other women. And who knows how many out there. He has not shown the slightest bit of genuine love for any of them. Or for us. I have known my husband for decades. He is incapable of love or compassion. he is missing that part of his brain."

There was truth to what she was saying.

"He only cares about his pleasure, his enjoyment, his happiness." Zahra continued. "You know what will happen if you tell him?"

"What?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Maybe boast to a few friends that he impregnated a posh memsaab half his age. But then he will think about how that makes you unfuckable for a while. And he will just shrug and move on to his next conquest."

"That absolutely sounds like him." Fatima agreed. "Just go to Delhi with your husband and son. Find other men to fuck on the side. Forget about him and us."

"There is no upside to you telling anyone else about it. Your husband will kick you out or divorce you. Even if he stays with you, he will never trust you. Sajid won't care. The rest of our kids will always be in the shadow of a rich urban half-sibling. And your own child. If and when it finds out that his father was a sociopath daily wage worker and his mother was a slut...imagine the impact?" Zahra said.

I nodded. Everything she was saying made sense.

"Anyway, we really need to get water." she said and started walking. I walked with her, feeling a strange kind of sisterhood between us.

This is practically where my story ends.

I stayed there two more days, "playing house" in a way. Experiencing the life my second child would never have to. Sajid fucked me as often as he could, sometimes by myself, sometimes with one or both of his wives, and once, with a mistress of his from the village. Each of those fuck sessions was satisfying in ways I have never experienced since.

Zahra made arrangements for me to slip away early one morning, the day before Sajid's planned departure. One of her nephews arranged for a private taxi which took me to the closest airport. And I flew home.

I never said a proper goodbye to Sajid. Like Zahra said, I don't think he would have cared wither way. All our stuff was packed and we left for Delhi the very next day. Sajid must have come home to find our house locked forever and then sold to someone else.

When I eventually told Tarun I was pregnant, he paused for just a second. I could read his mind. But he never asked the question. He broke into a wide grin, hugged me and said we should tell Apu right away.

Life moved on. I don't know if my second pregnancy changed something in me hormonally, but I never quite had the same sexual appetite or desires that I did with Sajid. Tarun suggested taking other lovers if I felt like it, but somehow, no one really resonated with me the same way.

Once in a while I will have flashbacks. But my kids are now growing up and I am a different person now. I never was unhappy but now I am in complete bless with two lovely boys and a loving husband.

The only thing that remains from that episode of my life is that tattoo on my ass.

THE END

shiprat
shiprat
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AnonymousAnonymous12 months ago

Dear Author,

Please write "Who Watches The Watchmen" from Dara's perspective. How he felt while having a fling with a high class memsaab like menaka.

indian_exec2000indian_exec2000about 1 year ago

Excellent story. Great ending. Do write more stories narrated by women. However, the upper class Hindu woman falling for the boorish, dirty lower class Muslim man theme has been flogged to death by now, by many authors. I look forward to reading original themes from your talented pen. Ciao!

abdtiresiasabdtiresiasover 1 year ago

This spinoff is one of my favorite novels on this site. I think it's fortunate that the protagonist escapes the temptation to live as Sajid's wife, and returns to her original self-life. (Of course, I know that you have no choice but to connect with the original story.) But on the other hand, I succumbed to my desire to be with Sajid, choose the life of a low-class wife, and regret it, but get trapped in that life. , I want to see other upper-class women's stories. Or what if a foreigner from a non-Indian country, seduced by Sajid, ends up living the life of a low-class Indian wife (which she never even imagined)?

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 2 years ago

Next part please may be from where original author left t.also add embarrassed situation and humiliation scenario nice interfaith mature story.... Please continue add more parts

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 3 years ago

Shiprat or Shipra T.... may your cunt forever be filled with muslim cum... hope u become a 10 rupee whore in a muslim ghetto getting fucked day in day out in a dinghy room covered with betel spit and cum stains.. hope you die alone in a disgusting place buried nameless with a legacy of having been a breeding cow

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