Indian Wife Has Affair with Servant

Bhola was our man servant. He was now twenty-two years of age, and a young man from my village. When I had bought the house, my mother had called me to talk about Bhola's family, who were distantly related to us. They had recently lost everything due to a flood, and my mother wanted me to help. We also needed a servant, and I told her I can employ him for a year. He could live with us.

At first Neetu wasn't too happy having another man live in the house, but soon she became used to Bhola. Bhola had his own room and bathroom downstairs, and he was a very good servant. That one year became two years, and then three - and Bhola was still with us.

Neetu (and I) was by now very comfortable having Bhola in the house. Bhola was very obedient - in fact he was always scared and afraid of Neetu's anger. Neetu was of cheerful and smiling nature, but with servants she had always been authoritative. Neetu had the traditional class-oriented thinking - we were the upper class, and the servants were the lower class. Thus, it was their duty to serve and obey us.

Neetu treated Bhola as if he were a child who should listen to everything she says simply because Bhola was the servant. And Bhola did - which is why we grew to trust and like him a lot. From getting up early way before us, having our breakfast ready, especially the tea, to cleaning, cooking, dusting... Bhola did it all. He had really made our lives considerably easier.

Even though he was now twenty-two, Neetu hardly treated Bhola like an adult. An adult who had his own life, hobbies, and desires. Quite often I would hear Neetu reprimanding Bhola, and he would respond to her scolding and berating with lowered head. He never ever spoke back to my wife - something that I appreciated a lot. It was hard nowadays to get a respectful servant like that.

When Bhola had first entered our household, Neetu had dressed conservatively and carefully around him. Even going downstairs sometimes at night to get some water, she would dress in an overcoat, simply because Bhola might be there. Over time, she lost her inhibitions and grew comfortable around our servant. Nowadays she always wore nighties and maxis around the house, sometimes made of very thin translucent material. She would on occasion even not dress up, wearing her lingerie, and going down to the kitchen at night.

When we would be watching TV or simply relaxing in the living room, Neetu would be dressed in a gown that would expose her legs and calves, despite her conservative upbringing. Other times she wore saris very loosely so a lot of her waist or back was exposed, and since it "just Bhola" she wouldn't care. This was the level to which we trusted him and took no note of his presence at home. We all thought of him to be as harmless as a piece of furniture.

So, it was suddenly surprising to see Neetu say Bhola may have a crush on her.

"How do you figure that out?" I asked, curious.

Neetu came to bed and slithered next to me. She surprised me with a long kiss.

"He stares at my ass." Neetu confided. "When my back is turned to him, and he thinks I am not noticing, I have seen him ogling my... butt."

"Darling," I laughed, and kissed my wife again. "When you go out for a walk. Half the city admires your ass. They are the men. And the other half - the women - are jealous of your butt. What a gorgeous bottom you have!"

"You are very naughty." My wife scolded me playfully. We kissed again, and I could see that she was in the mood. "Also, there has been... other... signs."

"Like what?"

"Um... when I talk with him, nowadays, he gets very nervous, and tongue tied. And... I have seen him, try to catch a peek."

"Catch a peek?"

"Uff." My wife let out a sign of exasperation. "The other day I was wearing my low-cut nightie. You know... that one. And he was... his eyes... he couldn't stop staring."

It was too much for me. I found myself unusually excited, my lust for Neetu's body multiplied tenfold. Neetu too seemed to be in a heightened mood, and we had long, loud, passionate, vigorous sex.

Even the next morning, I had to go to work, I didn't want to get out of bed. And though Neetu wanted to get up and brush and freshen up, I didn't let her. We ended up having sex again, before I finally let go of Neetu.

"What happened to you!" Neetu told me later, as we were having breakfast, her tone mischievous. "You are acting as if we just got married!"

"I can't seem to get enough of you." I told her honestly. "You make me feel young."

"Well," Neetu was coy, "There's another young man in the house also apparently crushing on my nowadays."

We both laughed. It showed how casually we took Bhola, and how harmless we thought he was. Even though Neetu knew he was ogling her behind her back, she paid no attention to it. There had been some gossip of one married lady from our community and Bhola, but it soon stopped when her husband came back from Dubai. There was also that story of Mrs. Chadda's maid servant and Bhola, but that too stopped when the maid servant's husband got a job in the city and took her away.

Some weeks passed after that night. Over time, we casually would bring up the topic of Bhola's crush in our bedroom to spice things up and have wild sex. Bhola's behaviour around us didn't change much, but obviously with such a gorgeous lady in the house, his crush, and his attempts to ogle my wife, were understandable.

Around three months later, something else happened.

Neetu was feeling very tired and had retired to bed earlier than usual. It was her time of the month, and I told her I will take care of her tasks. I put away all the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen with Bhola's help.

"Bhola," I told him. "There is a hamper of dirty clothes upstairs, near my study. Go and put those clothes in the washing machine and start it on."

"Yes, sahib."

"I am going to go out for a walk." I told him. "It's a nice weather outside this evening. Make sure the clothes are in the washing machine."

"Yes, sahib."

I cleaned myself up, and then put on a small jacket. I exited the house, fully intending to go for my walk. It was then I noticed that the light to Bhola's room was on.

"Why does he keep his light on all the time!" I thought angrily. "I had warned him about this. Electricity bills are high enough as it is."

I walked around the perimeter of the house from the outside to his window. I had no intention to peep and watch on the sly. I was just curious to know if he was inside the room or not. As I made my way to his window, I saw that the blinds were drawn, but not completely. If I stood to one side, I could see inside without him seeing me.

It was then that I saw a strange sight.

Bhola had brought the hamper of dirty clothes inside his room!

I stood there, my jaw dropping in surprise, and my thoughts of going for a long walk completely forgotten.

Why did Bhola bring the dirty clothes basket into his room?

I stood there and watched, hoping no one would come up by the side street. I wasn't clearly visible unless people peered over the fence and looked, but you never know who was watching from where.

Bhola started hunting for something in the bin basket. What was he up to? I soon found out my answer. Bhola pulled out one of Neetu's used bras, and then two panties, and started smelling them!

It was one of the pink satin bras that Neetu wore when we had sex, and the two panties he had in his hand was expensive as well. Bhola grabbed the three items, and then sat down on his bed.

I stood there in shock, watching the antics of my servant. I had always thought of his 'crush' as harmless, and here I saw what he was up to!

Bhola fumbled with his zipper and soon took off his trousers. And then he pulled down his underwear. As his cock came into view, I let out a gasp. I couldn't help myself... even as a man... a very strictly heterosexual man... I had to marvel at the sight.

Bhola had an impressive cock. It was very thick, and it was very long. It was almost three times my length when I was erect, and Bhola wasn't even fully aroused! It was huge. No wonder there was gossip about some of the married ladies of our community and him! Right then I started to see Bhola in a different light.

I didn't know it then, but one of the married ladies that Bhola would conquer soon would be my own wife Neetu.

Bhola placed the bra and one of the panties on the bed, and then lay down on his stomach on the bed over the bra and panty. Neetu's panty - the one he had placed on the bed - was now just below his groin and her bra was under his chest. Then he took the other panty in his hand and started smelling it, even as he started rubbing his groin against the panty that was on the bed.

I realized what Bhola was doing. He was fantasizing about my wife. With the bra under his chest, he was picturing himself motorboating my wife's large breasts. And as his dick rubbed against Neetu's panties, he was imagining himself fucking her. All the time he was also imagining smelling her pussy with the used panty that was in his hand.

Bhola soon started to cum. He was ejaculating for a long time.

I watched as my servant finished masturbating on my wife's clothes. He got up and held her panty on his hand. It had his thick gooey cum on it. He quickly got dressed again, and then placed the dirty undergarments back in the clothes bin. Picking the basket up, he left the room, possibly to load them in the washing machine.

I quietly made my way back inside the house to our room. I of course didn't tell Neetu what I had seen, but I wondered what else Bhola was up to.

Next morning, at breakfast time, Neetu was scolding Bhola on something, which he just kept timidly nodding yes to. It appeared he had put too much salt in the omelettes, which Neetu hated. I looked at him as Neetu berated him, and Bhola looked so timid and frightened. It was hard to imagine that someone like him could also be engaging in those antics last night, masturbating on my wife's undergarments. Neetu, of course, had no idea about what Bhola had been up to, and continued to scold him.

The next incident happened a few weeks later. It was afternoon, and I was working from home, and Neetu wanted to take a shower. Unfortunately, the hot water geezer in our bathroom was not working.

A sudden idea came to my head. I called Bhola to our room and asked him if his bathroom had hot water.

"Yes, sahib." Bhola kept his eyes on the floor. "My bathroom has hot water. The geezer is working."

"You can go to Bhola's bathroom." I told my wife, hoping she would agree. "The geezer there is working. I will see what is wrong with ours."

"Hmmph." Neetu replied. It was clear she wasn't pleased - Bhola's bathroom wasn't the best. It was a typical servant's bathroom - not that big, not too clean, and not much space. But Neetu didn't have a choice; if she wanted a shower, she would have to use Bhola's bathroom.

"Go and turn the geezer on." I instructed Bhola. "I have some work here to do, and memsaab will be down there momentarily."

"Yes, sahib." Bhola nodded and left the room.

"I really don't want to use his bathroom." Neetu complained. "It's dirty, it's small... and there's no tub, of course. The bathing stall is too close to the commode, and water gets everywhere."

"Darling." I told her. "Be practical. If you want a hot shower, that's the only option we have now."

"Hmmph!"

Neetu took out her clothes from the cupboard and took them along with her as she made her way out of our room, and then downstairs towards Bhola's bathroom. Bhola's bathroom was beside his room - downstairs towards the rear of the house.

I gave Neetu two minutes and then stealthily followed her down the stairs.

It was the middle of the afternoon, and bright sunny one at that, and our house had brilliant sunlight, so it would be hard to stay hidden. Thus, I followed my wife from quite way behind so as not to be seen. She was already downstairs, and I was at the top of the stairs, peering in.

"Memsaab." I heard Bhola say. "The geezer is on, and I tested the water. It is hot."

"Thank you, Bhola." My wife grunted.

My wife entered the bathroom and shut the door. I heard her curse loudly.

"Bhola!" She said, opening the door again. "There is no lock here!"

"Memsaab." Bhola kept his eyes on the floor. "Who comes to my bathroom! I told sahib before, but the lock is broken. It is for some time now."

"Hmmph." Neetu grunted once again, "What if someone opens the door now when I am in! I have to take off my clothes to take a shower, you know."

"Memsaab, there is no one here beside you and me." Bhola tried to soothe my wife. "Sahib is upstairs. You take your bath. No one will enter until you are out. I have some work in the kitchen, I will go there."

"Ugh," Neetu swore again, before going back inside the bathroom and shutting the door. I remained on the top of the stairs, hidden below the railing, peering through the rails.

Bhola, instead of going to the kitchen, remained by the door. He turned and looked around, but I was hidden well. Confident that I was busy in my room, as I had told him, Bhola then knelt down by the bathroom door, and then put his eye through the keyhole, peeping in.

I was shocked to see him so brazenly do this. He was actually trying to see my wife take a shower, in the nude! This had gone beyond a crush now, and he was no longer content with ogling my wife's buttocks or trying to catch a peak of her cleavage. Bhola was actually spying on my wife in the bathroom!

As he intently peered through the small opening, Bhola maneuvered his cock out of his trousers, not taking his eyes of the keyhole even for a moment. His cock came into view, and I saw that he already had a hard on. That was pretty quick considering he had hardly spent a minute in front of the bathroom door.

Neetu must now be fully naked inside and our servant was seeing her like that. Till today he was using only her undergarments, but now he was also seeing her fully naked in real. As I watched my servant watch my wife, and rub his cock in his hands, I too began to get a throbbing erection. Taking out my own cock, I too began to masturbate, seeing our servant do the same as he watched my naked wife take her bath. Neetu was unaware that right now, she was giving pleasure to two horny and perverted men!

It did not take long for Bhola to cum. Neetu must have put on quite the show! Bhola seemed to cum and cum and cum - he had lots of sperm! Bhola then wiped himself against his trousers and went to his room, probably to clean up properly.

The thought of my wife bathing in the nude, and our servant watching her and masturbating, was too much for me, and I too started to cum. Hastily I used my underwear to clean myself up.

After a few minutes, my wife Neetu appeared from the bathroom, looking as fresh and sexy as ever. She of course had no clue what had happened while she was taking her bath. That our servant was watching her in the nude and masturbating. And her husband masturbating watching the servant masturbate.

From that day on, I kept a strict eye on Bhola and his whereabouts, whenever I was working from home. Our geezer also kept "malfunctioning" every other day, forcing Neetu to take her shower in Bhola's bathroom. Bhola peeped in every time, masturbating as he saw my wife naked inside the toilet.

I would also ask him to do the laundry at night, after Neetu would retire to bed. Giving the excuse that I needed a quick night post-dinner walk, I would go outside and then peep into Bhola's room. He would take the dirty clothes bin, take out my wife's undergarments and go to his room.

He was now masturbating every night on her panties and bra, and almost every other day watching her take a bath.

My wife must be really turning him on. And I could see Bhola's lust for Neetu was growing by the day, as evident by the way he hungrily looked at her during the day. Whenever my wife would have her back to Bhola, bending down or squatting to pick up something, he would gaze at her buttocks with wild lust in his eyes, and sometimes even brazenly rub his crotch.

Something had to give, soon.

* * *

I still remember the night when we finally decided to "use" Bhola, and Neetu talked to me about seducing another man to our marital bed. By then, it was almost two years and two months since we had visited the doctor and gotten the fertility clinic's results.

We had gotten the tests done when she was thirty and I was forty. Now two years and two months had gone by, and still we had no prospects of a child. I was forty-two, and as Neetu liked to remind me, she was now thirty-two and getting older. We were still in touch with the clinic, following up, and I got myself tested again recently. My results were still bad, my sperm count low, and all our searches for donor sperm had fizzled out. Neetu's results, as was to be expected, was completely fine.

"Gopal." Neetu suddenly spoke, placing her hairbrush on the dressing table. "I wanted to tell you something."

"Yes, dear?" I asked.

Neetu got up from the stool, walked over to me and sat down beside me on the bed. She took my hand in hers and looked at me.

"I have been thinking about what Dr. Das said." She told me.

"Oh." I replied, my mood dampening a bit. Dr. Das had been the doctor at the fertility clinic we had been consulting.

"I was thinking about the fliers that he gave us." Neetu told me. "Do you remember?"

"IVF? It's terribly expensive." I reminded her. "Much more that what I can afford, sadly. And even then, there's no guarantee of success, you know... because... I..."

"Because you are shooting blanks?" Neetu smiled. "Don't worry, I still love you. But I wasn't talking about IVF."

She wrapped her arms around me and pressed her lips on mine. We kissed passionately for a long time.

"I have an idea." Neetu said, after a while. She fidgeted with her hands, as if she was nervous to bring up the topic. "As you know, we have been looking for donor sperm, but..."

She left her sentence unfinished.

"I know, darling," I shook my head. "It's just as expensive as IVF, dear. We just might have to wait a bit until it becomes more common place in India, and cheaper."

"Unfortunately, we can't wait. I am not getting any younger." Neetu shook her head, then took a deep breath. "I mean, darling, we never really talked in depth about it. Are you really comfortable with the idea of a donor sperm? Another man's sperm, impregnating your wife?"

I looked at my wife in surprise. She now had a strange expression on her face. It was half timid, half curious.

"Well..." I spoke cautiously.

"There was that one time." Neetu said. "Remember?"

I knew what she was talking about.

Like almost any man, I had thought about experimentation. When you are married to the same woman for a long time, a bit of staleness and familiarity sets in. The known is comforting, but sometimes variety adds to the spice of life. I had of course read about threesomes, foursomes, wife swapping, etc. online. One of the many ways I had kept myself sexually satisfied during my single years was reading a lot of erotica. And in particular the variety known as "cuckold" or "loving wives" stories.

For years, I had rubbed my dick fantasizing about sharing my wife with another man. Seeing her in the arms of another lover, penetrating her and taking her to levels of orgasmic delights previously unknown to her. I had also of course thought about sleeping with other women. But, you know, I had always thought these were fantasies.

Neetu was not a prude by any chance, but she was brought up in India, a conservative society. Education, and marriage, had opened her up to new ideas, but she was still bound by Indian norms. I had once broached the topic with Neetu casually.