Mr. Miller

As the car rolled to a stop, I felt the hand on my already sore breast increase its pressure.

"Two doors down." I said, trying to fend it off unsuccessfully. He'd treated my tits like a stress toy once too often. My top was very thin.

"I know. Just thought we could get some sexy goodbyes away from your windows."

"Guys, I really need to go. I already made out with you both a long time."

The second guy's hand was on my knee. I slapped it away.

"Oh come on, don't be a cock tease. Give us a BJ with that spicy mouth, exotic Indian lady!"

He pulled down the elastic waist pants he was wearing and displayed a big hard white pink dong. I was seriously tempted.

"Just a little suck suck! I bought you four drinks, you bitch!"

"Fuck you!" I reached for the door and he pulled me back.

"That's what I'm asking!"

That's when there was a sharp rap on the window.

Me and the two guys looked up at the imposing form of Mr. Miller, our next door neighbor. He was a retired cop, something that generally gave my husband and I great solace in terms of personal safety.

He was holding a handgun.

I took advantage of the shock that caused to open the door and step out.

"Is there a problem here, boys?"

He had barely finished that sentence when the car screeched away. Not so dominant anymore, I had to chuckle.

I stood there, trying to steady myself on my heels. I was quite drunk and skimpily dressed! It was true that they had bought me a lot of drinks and I hadn't refused a single one.

"What do you get tarting yourself out like this when your nice husband is out of town?"

Even in my drunk state, that insult stung.

"I'm not a tart. And I could have handled them."

"Like you handled that cowboy last weekend who grabbed your twat?"

I knew someone was in the window that night watching! I had gotten reckless recently with letting guys drop me home to save on the cab fare. My husband kept me on a strict budget. I didn't have much money for my extra curricular activities.

That night, this dude in a cowboy hat who bought me a lot of top shelf drinks had gotten a little too handsy on the pavement outside my house. Hands down my panties despite firm refusals. Fingering my pussy! I fought him off.

"I sent him packing in the end anyway. What business is it of yours? Using words like twat? And please holster that gun."

"It's not even loaded."

He twirled it theatrically and put it away.

"Any good man will feel offended to see another good man's wife stepping out on him!"

"For god's sake! I'm not stepping out on my husband! I just go out to bars for a few drinks and a little attention. Sometimes the guys dropping me home try to get lucky. And cop a feel. It's no big deal. And it's none of your business."

"So should I tell him what all I've seen? I'll get it off my chest and it'll be completely none of my business."

I glared at him. He kept walking with me towards my door. I could smell whiskey on his breath. So that explained his extra belligerence.

"Well?"

"No. He'll get jealous over nothing. Mr. Miller, I'm not cheating on my husband!"

"That's not what I hear."

"Huh?"

"I hear you were caught giving Bryce Carter a handy behind Benedict's pub."

"I....."

I was stunned at how efficient these small town Midwestern gossip networks were. But then I guess I stood out as the only Indian wife in town who hit the bars in short clothes. All other Indian wives in town were PTA and pot luck types.

He wasn't entirely accurate though.

By this point, we were at my door and I wanted to end the conversation. I realized that we were both drunk and cranky.

"I was not giving him a handy. Yes, my hand was on his penis when some people walked in on us."

"As women's hands often find themselves on for no reason." he sarcastically said.

"It was a dare thing. A bet. We were all drunk. I'm drunk right now. As are you. Just go away, Mr. Miller."

"A dare or a bet? Or just an excuse to grab dick?"

"Mr. Miller!"

"Don't you glare at me, young lady! I just saved you from rape!"

"I did not ask to be saved! They were not going to rape me. And who goes around waving guns at people?"

"Oh, you wanted them to take you to bed, but do it rough, is that it? Cos what I saw was definitely a woman resisting. I was being a good samaritan and you're giving me attitude."

"I'm giving you attitude?"

"Open the door!" he suddenly said in a raised voice.

My throat was parched.

I groaned, opened the door and headed to the kitchen. The big old man followed me. I glugged water as he stood there looking upset. Which was starting to piss me off.

We had been neighbors for two years now. He had always been a condescending jackass to me and a complete gentleman to my husband. He was known in the neighborhood for his sharp tongue and no filter. And someone who got in everyone's business. He used to be a sergeant in the police so maybe micro managing people brusquely was in his bones.

"Maybe I should tell that overworked consultant husband of yours what you're up to. He'll set you straight. You're the kind of woman who needs to be punished to be kept in line. I have half a mind to do it myself! I hate cheating sluts! My first wife was a cheating slut!"

"Again, I'm not a cheating slut! The most I've done is touch a couple of dicks. Jokingly not sexually."

"Now it's a couple of dicks. You think that isn't cheating?" he thundered. "Come here!"

I was shocked as I felt him grab my wrist, pull me, and bend me over his side. My head spun and I felt dizzy. His other hand raised my short skirt and exposed my butt.

"Thong. Slut wear."

"AAAH!" I cried out as his wide meaty palm landed a hard spank on my right butt cheek.

"You need to be disciplined like this."

"OUCH!" I cried out again as another spank landed on the other ass cheek. "What the fuck are you...AAAA... Stop it!"

Suddenly he landed a dozen spanks on my ass, one cheek at a time. And then pushed me away.

"Mr. Miller, what the..."

"Straighten up missy. Or it'll be worse next time! You have been warned!"

And he walked out! Leaving me stunned!!

In the bedroom mirror, I could see red palm marks on both my big round ass cheeks. My eyes were wet. So was my pussy.

I couldn't sleep that night. At all. I wasn't sure if I was more scared, confused, or aroused.

I had felt his dick stiffen against my thigh as he had me bent over and went to town on my ass. It had felt thick.

But he didn't try anything more. Even though he must have felt the wetness in my panties.

He did spank me hard and leave me red assed like some SM club bunny. I replayed that feeling in my head as I played with myself using my vibrator.

It's not like he was wrong, by the way. I had been getting a bit too frisky for what had started off as just a small time-killing attention-seeking experiment.

My husband earned very well in his job that brought us from India to small town Midwest. That's why my parents married me to him in the Indian arranged marriage market. But that earning came at a price. Traveling three weeks a month as most top consultants do.

I didn't want for anything materially. But he did keep me on a tight budget and didn't like alcohol. His preferred entertainment was staying at home watching Netflix or visiting friends with families. Or going on hikes.

I just missed the male attention I expected from my husband. I was still young. No kids yet. So I went out a little. Started off going with some girlfriends. Then alone. Sat at bars. Accepted free drinks. Made out a little. Some heavy petting.

It reminded me that I'm a hot blooded woman, not just a maid. And a good looking one too.

I wore revealing dresses in bars here that I would never try in India. It bought me so many free drinks. Most guys, I rejected after one or two drinks and they took it well. Sometimes I was physically attracted to a guy. And had decided that just kissing and groping is fine.

But I drew a line. Nothing below my waist. Play with my big tits over my clothes, kiss me, grope my ass but that's it.

Most guys respected the line. We played around and I'd be horny as fuck and would go home and use my toys or shower head. And hungrily jump my husband when he returned from his travel. He enjoyed my ferocity. And was good in bed too.

He just wasn't around enough for my needs.

Once in a while, some guys didn't like hearing no. For some reason, those were the kind of guys I found myself attracted to the most nowadays. Guys that were rough around the edges, different from the urbane modern men I was used to.

It's like the charm of the charming was wearing off. I had only ever known "good boys". My first few exposures to bad boys left me very aroused.

Why was Mr. Miller so offended by what I did? Was he just looking for a way to fuck me himself? He did often check out my body. He checked out women very blatantly. And he had just spanked my ass. He was a bad boy himself. But he didn't try to fuck me! That's what was confusing!

I kept thinking about the incident and playing with myself.

My husband returned the next day before I drove myself crazy.

I rode him hard! He was delighted! I even swallowed his cum every time. Didn't spit a drop.

I stayed home the next couple of weeks, scared of Mr. Miller. I saw him sitting on his patio drinking every night, listening to police scanners. I didn't step out. He didn't come by. My sex toys got a lot of use.

Then one evening, I saw him and his wife leaving with some suitcases like they were going away for a few days.

So I put on this sexy short summer dress and headed out to a bar.

Within an hour, I was three free drinks down and flirting with two college boys. We danced a little. They were both athletes in town for a road game. Heading back the next day.

I wasn't quite sure if they were competing for me or working me together. At one point, I was sandwiched between both of them while dancing and could feel their semi stiff bulges against me from both sides.

Before we knew it, last calls time was there. I started calling an Uber but the guys offered to drop me. One of them had been the DD all night. With the Millers gone, I thought I could take the chance.

Once again, I found myself in a car late night in front of my house with two guys. Dishy guys. Not aggressive like the other night. In fact very polite cos the tall blond whispered,

"May I finger you a little?"

I moaned my permission and the guy driving moved into the back seat too.

Soon there was a hand on each of my thigh, and another on each of my breasts as the two guys kissed me turn by turn. And they also deftly fingered me together with a skill suggesting they had done this together before. One focused on my clit and the other on my cunt.

The orgasm I had was intense and it made me arch my back and stretch completely, such that my head at one point was upside down looking out the back windshield.

And that's when I saw the form of Mr. Miller in his window.

"Oh fuck!! I have to go!!"

"Wham bam, thank you lads?"

One of them cutely said.

"Sorry, I just saw my neighbor see us."

The guys understood. They quickly took my number for the next time they were in town.

By this point, I could see Mr. Miller had stepped out of the house.

He caught me halfway to my door.

"Let me guess. You saw me leaving with bags to drive my wife to a faraway airport and assumed I was gone and started your tarting around again."

This was a major decision point for me.

I could have told the old man to fuck off. Tell my husband if he wants. Dealt with it.

But I remember his spanks. How my body felt against his.

"I wasn't tarting around. I was just unwinding." I pouted.

"I saw you with those two guys in the backseat. And I know you saw me see you. Do you want to get punished again?"

I had my hands on the door knob. Again, I could have told him to fuck off.

Instead I opened the door saying,

"I haven't done anything to deserve punishment. I just got a little carried away. Not like I fucked any of them."

He followed me in and closed the door.

"Is that what you want? To get fucked when your husband travels so much? Is that why you whore yourself out like this?"

He tugged at my summer dress hem.

Again, a display of defiance might have scared him off. But instead I pouted once more and said,

"I get lonely, Mr. Miller."

He looked at my face a few seconds, smiled, and said,

"That doesn't mean you don't deserve punishment. Would you rather take the punishment or have me tell your husband everything?"

I pouted again and folded my arms.

"Don't tell him please."

He slowly walked to the couch and sat down.

"Then come take your punishment willingly."

He tapped his lap.

I had been hoping for some roughness like last time, but this move made sense from his point of view. It was an explicit signal of consent from me this time if I willingly did.

And I did. I wanted that feeling again.

I had never really been physically hit in my life and my husband was a very gentle lover. Those spanks had tickled a part of me I didn't even know existed.

"You're mean."

I said.

And I walked over to him, my heart thumping. I raised my dress above my waist. Thong again. His thighs dug into my ribs as I feel prone on his lap. And I felt his big palm on my right ass cheek.

"You fucking whore!"

"OWWW!"

The spank stung.

"Cheating slut!"

"AAAAH!"

I cried out again. I was so horny.

The spanks continued. I theatrically shook with them and cried out louder than I needed.

At one point he paused, his hand between my thighs. And my pussy almost involuntary tried to rub against it.

"You are wet."

He gently stroked my pussy over the thin thong.

"You like it."

A few more whacks. I was now semi humping his thigh in arousal.

"All you care about is getting off, huh? Is that what you want me to do? Finger you?"

"Yes please, Mr. Miller." I cried out.

He seemed a little taken aback by my instant surrender. I heard him take a deep breath and he paused mid spank.

And then I felt his fingers start sliding my thong off. I shivered in embarrassment and arousal as my completely naked ass was displayed upturned on his ass. Everything visible. Everything accessible.

"Oh wow mmmmm..." I cried out in pleasure as the old man deftly fingered me. Two digits in my wet pussy as the thumb stroked my clit.

"What's with you women today and bald pussies?"

He put a third finger in and I instantly started cumming. I jerked about so violently on his lap that I fell off it. I was moaning loudly and my naked ass was squirming.

Mr. Miller watched me calmly, a visible tent pole in his pants. He slowly got up and stood over me. I closed my eyes as I heard the metallic sound of a belt being undone.

Was he going to whip me with his belt?

But no, he was just taking his pants off. Slowly he got on his knees next to my head. I turned on my side and opened my mouth.

He put one hand on my hair, another on my chin, and shoved a thick white pink pole into my mouth. My tongue moved to feel this girth. He pushed his dick in slowly but firmly until it was pushing into my throat.

He then let my head go and it sprang back, his dick exiting my mouth covered in my spit. I coughed a little. He stayed like that, as if giving me an opportunity to resist. I stayed as I was. He resumed face fucking me.

And once he had my tacit approval, he really laid into my mouth! Not even my husband had treated me with such entitlement. And it made me get hornier.

After about ten minutes of face fucking, he flooded my mouth. It was so much that it spilled out of my mouth. It felt extra salty and bitter. Who knew old man cum would taste so different?

"Next time, you will swallow it all."

He said, leaving me writhing and panting on the floor, catching my breath.

By the time my heartbeat returned to normal, Mr. Miller had gotten dressed and left.