Indian Wife Longs for Motherhood Ch. 01

But I'll come to that later.

As we stood beside one another after Chachaji had returned, he suddenly held the flaps of my white bath robe and pulled me near him.

Unprepared, I fell on to his chest, my breasts squeezing into him. His hand was behind me raising the hem of my short robe. In moments, both his hands were on my naked ass, pressing the pair in glee.

"You have been lucky last night. I could have fucked that sweet cunt of yours if I wanted. I needed you so bad. But you insisted on preserving your chastity. What is it in Prakash that makes you still resist any infidelity?" He asked, not hiding any trace of desire.

"I cannot think of anyone else other than my husband taking me there, which is a woman's very own. My mind revolts at that thought, Chachaji. I may have allowed liberties to you elsewhere - but not that." I said sincerely.

Strange, but it was true. Despite what took place on the flight, or the blatant exhibitionism on my own, that I indulged in involving the bellboy a short while ago, I didn't want to have the ultimate sexual union outside my marriage.

"But I want you so bad. Give yourself to me now, Asha." He pleaded.

"Chachaji, mujhe maph kijiye (forgive me) I cannot be unchaste to my husband. My womanhood is his, it is only through him that I want my child." I cried.

"No! Give yourself to me. I must have you now," Chachaji insisted, gripping my arms strongly.

His insistence on vaginal sex only resulted in my refusal to accommodate. In my mind, I could hardly accept this, wanting to be loyal to my husband.

I shook my head in all seriousness.

"Bitiya, it is impossible for me to pass another moment without having my throbbing 'lund' inside your 'choot'. Yet, I cannot force you to part with what you wish to treasure exclusively for your husband. Only time will make you give what you must someday." He sounded considerate, but there was a signal, a sort of premonition in what he said in the end.

In any case, I felt happy that he accepted what I wanted.

But soon, Chachaji was expressing an intent for something else.

He started moving his hand around the curves of my buttocks, pressing the flesh now and then. He was taking deep breaths and I realized what was likely his focus of attention.

A finger or two ran along the crack, trying to squeeze in through the rounded curves. He looked at me, his eyes had a gaze of want before he twisted his head a bit to indicate what he wanted.

"Ashaaaa ..." he prolonged the utterance, filled as he was in lust.

I shriveled in his arms. Although my husband had begged me many times, I had always refused any anal sex. Much of my dislike was based on fear. Fear of pain and hurt.

"Chachaji, I would rather not," I said meekly.

"Why not? Have you ever tried?" He was quick to ask.

"No," I said shaking my head.

"Then? Give me your reasons," he wouldn't let go.

"Because it's not proper and it'll hurt," I said almost defiantly.

"Ha!" he brushed me off, "what do you know about proper and improper? Just half an hour back you were immersed in a shameless show of your body and sexual desire to an insignificant hotel bellboy. Was that decent and proper?"

I was red in the face. I kept silent.

"Besides, how do you know it'll hurt? You are virgin there, aren't you? Besides, there are ways of making it painless and enjoyable," he said, driving in his point.

All the while, he kept pressing my butt and teasing the puckering hole. His big hands parted my ass once again, and a finger ran along the crack, and then started rimming my rose bud.

I was shaking at the spot. Soon, my ass hole began to quiver at the touches of a man much experienced in anal sex. He certainly knew how to take this tight cherry from an initially reluctant woman. I sensed he was trying to instill both courage and a longing in me for this variation in sexual union.

During this foreplay, there was abundance of passionate kisses, virtually rolling his tongue over and over mine, then curling them upwards to tingle my palate, running them across my teeth. Every effort was slowly and surely having the desired effect on me. Till I was almost ready to succumb, except for the fear of pain that still lurked within.

I held his rough, uneven cheeks with both my soft hands as he drew me in. Our kisses were passionate, and I completely forgot about my earlier dislike and abhorrence for this man. I must have moaned during our torrid kissing, for he suddenly withdrew his mouth. He wanted to say something.

"Asha bitiya, are you now ready to give up your virgin ass?" He asked, not hiding his intense lust for the spot.

I nodded my head to show my acceptance and said, "Try not to hurt me, Chachaji."

"Can you call me Papa, just during these moments that we enjoy?" he begged.

"Yes, Papa," I said, overwhelmed in the manner he asked.

"I'll take care and see that you are not hurt, bitiya," he said caringly.

He picked me up and laid me down on the bed. Picking up his carry bag, he searched inside and brought out a tube.

"Lubricant," he said, as a matter of fact, "and after I apply this inside your rectum, it'll ease my penetration so that you don't feel hurt."

I looked on shyly.

He came and stood beside the bed. Looking at me, he smiled a bit and then ran his hands over my head, and the tresses of my open hair.

"You'll enjoy, I promise you," he assured, and I warmed up to him.

"Yes Papa, I know you'll not hurt me," I responded.

He seemed happy at how I addressed him.

"Good. Now come, let me show you how you should be positioned," he said and held my hands.

I looked at his face. I had the look of a shy yet curious girl.

"Take the position of a bitch. You know what that is, Asha? On all fours ... on both your hands and knees," he said as he gestured the position, "but take off your robe first. Yes, yes, remain on the bed."

I loosened the string and, parting the robe, took it off and kept it on the bedstand.

"Good girl," Chachaji said, "and now, be a true bitch."

I sat on my knees at first, still ashamed to go the full position.

"Go on, Asha. That's not what I wanted. Bend forward, rest the front part of your body on your hands. Yes, that's it." Chachaji said the moment I had dropped forward and held myself on my hands and knees. My perky breasts dangled, and I felt awkward.

In that position, with Chachaji standing somewhere behind me, I couldn't see him nor what he was doing at that instant. But I turned my head and saw that he was taking off his clothes.

In a few minutes, I heard the soft creaking of the bed as he got up on it. And soon, his hands were on my buttocks, fondling the curves while I waited.

"I'll apply some lubricant. Relax bitiya, try to help me instead of shying away or bucking like a mare." Chachaji cautioned.

In moments, he had parted my ass and applied the lubricant from the tube. It felt cold and he dug in deep, rimming first and then deeper inside the crevice with a finger to apply quite liberally.

I waited, feeling his touches. An anticipation at first, and then the simmering excitement.

A break for a few seconds, when he was positioning himself, before I felt the first touch of a naked 'lund' on my virgin ass.

Oh god! Here it comes. The moment when I am taken. I braced myself.

Chachaji pushed in very slowly and waited. I felt grateful that he was making every effort to see that I was not hurt.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked.

"Not as yet," I was just beginning to relax my muscles.

He pushed in a bit more, and even it hurt a bit, I withstood the pain. Chachaji began to bend his body over my back, and I felt his body go over my buttocks with his cock remaining embedded in my asshole.

In that position, he was still pushing in ever so softly while his hands had gone across and down under my body to grip both my breasts. He squeezed them in delight for a while, thrusting hard now with his 'lund'.

"Are you enjoying, bitiya?" He asked as he fucked.

"Yesss," I moaned.

He tweaked my nipples, pulling on them, just as one would do while milking a cow. My nipples were hard. I loved the way we were in union, in a manner that was not always acceptable. May be even abhorred at times. But, to me, it was something new and my body waited before it slowly became more and more receptive.

He was now fully inside; I could feel it stretch my sphincter. Assured that I was no longer afraid, that my muscles were relaxed, and that I was fully co-operating by pushing back into him, Chachaji increased the thrusts. Soon, he was a rampaging bull, mounted on a cow.

He fucked my ass hard and rough, grunting all along, till he screamed aloud when he was beginning to ejaculate and until he spent his full load. He released every bit of his sticky goo inside my ass, kneading my breasts savagely as he did so.

"Fuck you..fuck your ass, Ashaaaaaaa," he screamed, "Take it! You bitch."

'Ohhh maaaaa', I moaned in one continuous tone of satisfaction. It showed me now as one who had enjoyed what she had been resisting earlier.

Chachaji must have noticed that I was at the deepest level of arousal at that point. He held me nearer, digging his face in my nape and breathing in heavily.

"That was heavenly. Oh! How I wanted to take this virgin ass," he said, now relaxed and easy, and patting my butt curves, "and I hope you did too."

Ashamed to admit, I just smiled.

"We will have to go to the temple now. The auspicious hour begins in two hours. Get ready, Asha," he said, quickly getting into the bathroom for a shower.

When finished, Chachaji left, wearing a white pajama and kurta to visit the temple. He had some work downstairs at the reception and told me to go and wait in the lobby after my shower.

I too got up to get ready, but initially found it difficult to walk, almost falling back on bed. There was an excruciating pain in my rear because of a rampaging Chachaji who had taken my virgin ass just moments back.

When Chachaji left, I almost limped to the bathroom. An invigorating bath in hot water helped to bring back my natural posture. It would have been embarrassing if it didn't.

I wore a white silk saree with red border, and a red blouse to go with it. It's a sort of prayer dress for women, and I felt in the right mood, forgetting my carnal behavior of the past hour or so.

As I came out of our suite and walked along an isolated hallway of the hotel that led to the lift, I found the bellboy come out of nowhere.

"How do you do, madam?" he asked, bowing his head.

Uneasy, and blushing, I could only nod my head.

"Anything you need Madam?" He asked softly.

My guilty mind read too much in between those lines. He is not being courteous, he is suggesting something else, I thought. He had seen me in the room indulging in such blatant, dirty masturbation and now he was indirectly hinting something related to it.

Vigorously, I shook my head, rushing to the elevator and walking in instantly. But the bellboy had followed, walking in together. Now, that was not something unusual or unwanted. Hotel staff go out of their way to keep guests happy and content. Partly out of the strict rules imposed by its management, but mainly in anticipation of handsome tips.

Yet, I knew the bellboy's hidden purpose was different. I was convinced about that.

There was none excepting the two of us. Noiselessly, the lift descended. The silence within was, however, soon overcome by the unexplained heavy breathing from both of us.

He looked back once, and his eyes showed intense desire.

"Madam, please call me whenever you need room service. My name is Faisal," he rushed through his words. I just nodded my head.

But the time of descent was little, and soon we were on the ground floor. I walked out and saw Chachaji in the lobby, chatting with someone I didn't know.

Later, I saw that he was an 'agent' of sorts, who would help us to get a quick entry into the temple and meet the head priest.

Soon, we were in a car that would take us to this temple. There was still time and with this close liaison that the 'agent' seemed to have with the head priest, we would be able to offer prayers in privacy.

The agent went into ecstasy talking about the head priest and how his 'powers' had helped many a woman to fulfill their dream of becoming a mother. He cited numerous examples, couples who were deprived of parenthood for years and then happily having a child. The more I heard, the more I became jubilant.

As the car sped towards the temple, I waited in anticipation. It was the very purpose for me to come to this place! I knew the head priest would be of immense help. I was convinced that he would be able to fulfill my cherished desire of motherhood. And, having heard so much from the agent, I now longed to meet him.

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