My Indian Slut Wife Vidya Ch. 08

Mr. Sarun visits us and stays for a week, enjoying my wife's hospitality. – Rajesh

Author's note: This is a story of a cheating wife, of adultery, of cuckoldry and small penis humiliation. If that is not your thing, skip this story. And remember while adultery can be a great source of enjoyment in fantasy and erotica, in real life it damages souls and destroys marriages. Please treat the following story as a fiction and fantasy piece only. It is written to deliver pleasure, and has no other purpose. If you are planning to whore out your wife, this story is not for you. This is for wanking off only. – Tarek Zia

It took some time for things to be normal after our return back to Pune from Mr. Sarun's house in Kolkata. I mean, Vidya needed two days after our return just to recover some of her strength. My darling wife barely had the stamina on the flight back – I guess after a week of having her pussy or asshole pulverized by my boss's monster sized dick on a near constant basis, she needed a lot of rest.

For that first week after our return from Mr. Sarun's home, Vidya and I didn't really get to speak that much. When I would get up for work, she would still be in bed, sleeping. I would make my own breakfast and head to work. I would throw myself into various projects in the office and return late. By the time I was home, it was 10 or even 1030 pm. Vidya had already eaten, and was back in bed, fast asleep. I would have some dinner that she had left out, and watch some TV before going to sleep myself.

It was somewhat of a relief not to have to talk – or even to encounter each other. We needed some time alone to reflect after that week. Moreover, I couldn't really bring myself to talk to her. I was ashamed, humiliated and unable to even meet her gaze.

I remembered how it had all started. How Mr. Sarun had described my wife when visiting me at work.

A sex bomb, he had commented about my wife. Nice long legs, good broad ass, and a great set of tits.

And then he had laid down the proposal: I haven't fucked a high class pussy in a while.

My wife. The bastard was talking about my wife. A high class pussy.

For so long, I was enjoying the cuckold lifestyle by pretending it wasn't there. I mean, when I married Vidya, I didn't marry knowing I would become a cuckolded husband. I knew of course that she was no virgin, unlike me. And despite my small equipment, we did manage to keep each other happy. For so long after our wedding, we did maintain a stable, faithful marriage.

And then Gaurav happened.

And then Ramu.

Before I knew it, I had become a willing cuckold. My sweet wife was regularly being banged by other men with much larger cocks. In my house, on my bed. With, and often without, my knowledge. But most importantly, with my consent. Consent that became increasingly less and less important.

For example, whenever our former neighbor Balachandra visited, he would spend the time in my place with his large pecker buried into my wife's cunt. Vidya would announce his arrival, and I would be discreetly sent away, to be "busy in the office", and my dear wife and her lover would make up for lost time by fucking like rabbits.

You are the world's best husband, Vidya would tell me, after I would return home and he was gone.

Then there had been the time when the guard Wasim and his friends treated my wife like their own personal hooker, with her providing sexual services to those low class men on demand. She was viscously fucked, gang banged, slapped, spanked, caned and humiliated on a constant basis when I was at work. If there wasn't a cock in her pussy, there was one in her ass, or in her mouth.

And Ramu. Her personal favourite, and her very first long term extra marital lover. Ramu the milkman. Even though he was no longer a milkman, that's what we both called him. Whenever Ramu would pass by the city, my wife was his personal booty call. Vidya would show me his text and send me away with a hug and a kiss.

I need his cock, jaanu, she would tell me. And I would go outside, waiting like a faithful dog, until she would text me that he was gone, and it was OK for me to come back to my own house.

This was the way our marriage had been. And I had been fine with that. I had made peace with that.

You should be a proud cuckold, jaanu, Vidya would tell me. You know these affairs of mine are physical only. I need their large cocks. I need to be taken by a proper man and be ravaged by a real man. I need things done to me that you cannot do, darling.

I did feel proud. I knew that she was getting momentary pleasure, and then she was coming back to me. I admit, I did get turned on by the fact that I thought I was giving Vidya away to someone else, and then she is choosing to come back to me after the sex was done. Yes, reality is more complicated of course, but I could play my mind games. The point is, none of her lovers knew that I knew.

As long we kept up this charade, everything was fine.

And then Mr. Sarun happened. The gig, as they say, was up.

Mr. Sarun broke that make-believe act to pieces. It was so bad that I couldn't even meet my wife's gaze after we had returned. Yes, she was tired and resting, but I was purposely avoiding her. Avoiding talking to her.

I mean, what could I say? What was there to say? I, a man, a proud INDIAN man, had watched silently and helplessly while my boss had violated my dear wife's body in all sorts of ways. I was powerless to help her as she was spanked or caned on her buttocks, slapped on her face, or had her pussy or asshole pounded by his humongous dick on a near constant basis. She was his personal cum dump.

Here was a man calling me a cuckold and fucking my wife in front of me. I had nowhere to hide; I had to feebly watch as my wife submitted herself to this other man in the full sense of the word.

Spread your legs, raandi, Mr. Sarun would command, and my wife would obey.

What a tight cunt you have, bitch, he would tell her, and she would thank him for the compliment, even as she was getting her pussy pummeled.

Don't delay in answering my questions, Mr. Sarun would instruct her, before slapping her, and Vidya would meekly apologize and ask for forgiveness from him even as she was slapped again.

My wife was his personal slave girl. She had no dignity left of her own. She was stripped naked, spanked and then fucked in front of the servants. She was at my boss's beck and call.

And it was all happening in front of me.

I remembered one particular night when after discussing some work stuff with me, my boss had casually called Vidya into the room, stripped her fully nude, made her lie down on the floor, face down, and then had anal intercourse with her even as I sat there, shamelessly watching. Mr. Sarun would occasionally pause, raise a hand and smack Vidya sharply on her bum, leaving a red handprint. He would then smack her on the other butt cheek, before resuming the butt fucking. My wife Vidya was being fucked like a two rupee whore in front of me, and I could do nothing but try to look away. And I would recognize just how enthusiastically Vidya was participating in all of this.

Even as my wife was being spanked on her bum and called all types of crude insults, she would make grunting and moaning noises enthusiastically as Mr. Sarun boned her. I had watched feebly as he emptied gallons of cum into my wife's rectum. That had just been one night of the many nights of debauchery Mr. Sarun and Vidya had engaged in.

I no longer had the option to pretend that nothing was amiss; everything was out in the open. I was a cuckold. My wife – my dear Vidya – was a slut and another man's willing slave. There was nowhere to hide anymore. And the humiliating way Mr. Sarun had dealt with Vidya – fucking her, spanking her, slapping her, sodomizing her, using her at will, and the seemingly eager way Vidya had not only submitted but seemed to have enjoyed her new role as his slave girl – had completely destroyed any semblance of normalcy I could pretend existed in my marriage. Normally I could pretend Vidya was having a momentary pleasure and coming back to me. Now I wasn't sure any more – she seemed to have submitted to Mr. Sarun in every sense of the word.

The week after our return, I had ample time on my commute back and forth from work to think about the state of my marriage. I wondered how we could ever return to a normal marriage again.

I needn't have worried. Yes, my cuckoldry and my marriage was evolving, but my darling Vidya was going to take care of this new phase of our lives.

Or so it seemed at first.

* * *

On Thursday I returned home particularly late. I had texted to Vidya to have her dinner and I would get something to go at work. It was nearly 11 pm when I entered the house. I freshened up and went upstairs to bed. Vidya was already in bed, but she wasn't asleep. She was reading.

My darling wife was dressed in a sheer pink negligee that left very little to the imagination. The top was a string with two large flaps that went over her nipples, while the bottom was another string which barely covered her pussy. They were connected by a cloth that of thin transparent pink material. My dick immediately hardened when I saw her. My lovely, sexy, beautiful wife, with her sexy long legs and big boobs! Why wouldn't any man want her!

Vidya saw me looking and smiled. She had a lovely smile. Vidya put down the book and sat up.

"Jaanu. My poor, dear cuckold." She told me. "Come here! Start stripping! Now!"

These were the first proper words we had spoken to each other in days.

"Yes, dear." I rushed to comply. I unbuckled my belt and let my trousers fall to the floor. I reached up and loosened my tie, and then unbuttoned my shirt. The only item of clothing I had on was now my underwear. I looked at Vidya, who still had a smile on her lips, and then I bent over, pulled and stepped out of my underwear.

My little penis sprang free, and my balls hung limply as Vidya sashayed over to me. She looked like a goddess – the moonlight was flooding the room through the open bay windows, the wind blew at her negligee, lifting it slightly and blowing through her thick, luscious silky hair. Her smile lit up the room like a thousand watt bulb.

She bent down and delicately touched my penis.

"Oh how I missed your little penis, darling." She bent down and gave my manhood a good kiss. Immediately it seemed to spring to life. Vidya laughed.

"Oh, look, how it's trying to stand to attention!"

"Yes, dear. It's you – which man wouldn't be turned on when you look as ravishing as you do!"

Vidya gently stroked me.

"Well, darling!" She teased me. "What will be tonight? My ass, pussy or my mouth?"

Oh yes! I was going to cum tonight! In her!

"I ..." I was at a loss for words. When Vidya got into one of her playful moods I knew I was in for a long night. Then I got a little brave, and told her, "Why not all three, dear?"

"All three?!" Vidya laughed, and slightly patted my cheeks. "My jaanu, you are not Mr. Sarun."

"I know." I must have made a face, because Vidya immediately kissed me.

"I could try, though!" I meekly murmured.

"Sure, darling, I will humour you!" Vidya was up for it. She bent down and knelt, and then took my penis in her mouth.

"Mmm." She gently ran her tongue along the edge of my rod. "Oh, how I missed you mini dick. After having that giant rod of your boss ram me for days on, I could get used to your little dicklet again, my dear cuckold husband."

"Yes, dear." I tried not to cum as Vidya took my balls in her mouth and gently rolled her tongue around my scrotum. "Oh, God! You are so sexy, Vidya."

"I know darling." Vidya took my penis out of her mouth. She had a twinkle in her eye as she said, "Your boss thinks so too, dear! And so does the milkman! And our neighbour!"

Leaving me rock hard, Vidya climbed on to the bed. I continued to stand there, gently stroking myself to maintain my hardness, as Vidya spread her legs.

"Come, darling." She beckoned. "Put your little peepee in my pussy. Time to reclaim what's yours."

I mounted her and plunged into her. I couldn't hold on for long, however, as I began to hump her. Vidya kept teasing me by squeezing her inner walls against my shaft and rocking herself, calling me names such as "cuckold" and "sissy", and taunted me on how my boss had used her – my wife – as a whore and cum dump. With a groan I started to ejaculate into her.

"Two and half minutes, my dear husband!" Vidya laughed. "Is that a new low record for you?"

Afterwards we lay on the bed, my face buried in her ample bosom, my dick somewhere between her thighs, as she hugged me and lovingly caressed my hair with one hand.

"My dear, sweet husband! My jaanu." She cooed, as she repeatedly ran her hand through my hair, and stroked my cheek. "My poor, dear cuckold."

It felt so good, to be back in her arms, to feel the scent of her loving breath on my face, and to feel the sweet lips pressed into a kiss on my cheeks. After some time, Vidya asked me, "So, darling. My dear cuckold, do you want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what, Vidya?"

"About last week. About Mr. Sarun, and how he treated me the way he did, my dear cuck?"

"Oh." I made a face. "Do we have to, Vidya?"

It was Vidya's turn to grimace. "I don't want to, sweetie, but we have to."

I looked deep into Vidya's eyes, and I saw a lot of apprehension. She stroked my now limp penis as she talked.

"You know, in the past whenever I had my affairs," She told me, "I was the one in charge. With Gaurav. With Ramu. With Balachandraji. Sure – those men thought they were fucking me behind your back, and I let them think they were wooing and seducing me, but I was the one in charge of the affairs. They began when I wanted, they ended when I wanted, and I wanted to be involved in whatever sexual activity those men were interested in."

"Yes, dear, I know." I tried to comfort her, even as her nails gently brushed my scrotum. Thinking about the time our milkman Ramu had banged my wife on our bed was turning me on.

"Hush, darling, let me speak." Vidya started to talk fast and the words started coming out in a rush. "Last week your boss Mr. Sarun used me – your wife – as his wretched slave girl. There's no way to mince words. I was his bitch. His concubine. His property. His cum dump. The new rakhel of his harem. I was completely powerless in his hands. I was his wretched slave girl."

"I know dear, I ..."

SLAP!

Vidya raised a hand and slapped me, hard.

"Hush, darling! I told you to be quiet!"

SLAP!

"I am so sorry dear."

"So, as I was saying," Vidya continued, "Jaanu, your boss used me in every way possible, and filled my every hole with his cum. And my husband – staying under the same roof – was helpless to help. You had to watch uselessly as your boss fucked me, spat at me, slapped me, spanked me, caned me, urinated on me and blew his load into my mouth, into my ass, on my body. I was nothing but a fuck toy. My self-respect was completely lost, and it all happened in front of you darling, and you were inept as a man to protect your wife."

"Yes, dear. I know. I was there."

SLAP!

"Shhh, darling. I don't want you to speak until I ask you a question."

"Er ... yes, dear."

Vidya paused for a bit before continuing.

"The frightening thing was, Rajesh," My wife then said, "I was powerless to stop him. I didn't WANT to stop him. I WANTED him to treat me the way he was treating me. I don't know why ... I never felt anything like this before, jaanu. I ... I ... I wanted to be treated like a slave. I WANTED to be humiliated like that."

There was another pause after this confession.

"So my question to you, dear, is this." Vidya said, and then looked at me expectantly. "Do you still love me, my dear cuckold?"

Is that what she was worried about?

"Of course dear, I love you!" I gushed. "How can you think otherwise?"

"Even though," Vidya blushed, "I was another man's slave – his rakhel – you still love me?"

"Yes, dear! I know you only did what you did because you had to – for me! I love you, Vidya!"

"Not entirely for you, my love." Vidya was honest. "For some reason, I wanted to submit to him. So I did what I did, partly because I was enjoying too. How can you accept me as a wife after that, darling?"

"Oh Vidya." I gushed. "I will always love you. I love you, and I don't care what you did or how you felt."

"Oh, thank you, darling. Thank you!" Vidya threw her arms around me hugged me and we kissed a deep, long, passionate kiss. We continued to kiss and suck each other's lips for a long while. After some time, her hand rested on my little pecker.

"Hmm." She laughed. "Looks like your soldier is trying to rouse himself again. All that talk about Mr. Sarun and me got you hot, eh? Even when I slapped you? You are a true cuckold."

"I ... er ..." It was my turn to blush. Vidya laughed again.

"Don't worry, my dear little jaanu." She kissed me. "Maybe you can take my ass tonight after all. And if you want to get hard, just think about all the ways your wife was your boss's personal bitch."

* * *

The next morning I called in sick at work. Vidya and I had sex in the morning and then we went out for brunch at one of the nice places in town. Afterwards, on our return, we had sex again, and then lay in bed, talking.

Our conversation inevitably turned to Mr. Sarun, and how he was now going to be a constant presence in our life. In exchange for some stock of preferred shares in the company, Vidya had agreed to be at his beck and call for a year, whenever he visited India. And we both knew what that meant.

"It's not that you are exactly a confident man," Vidya told me, as we discussed me being a long term cuckold. "Or that you have a large dick. Every time I am enjoying myself with another man, you do fret about losing me."

"I know dear," I admitted. "Sometimes I wonder why you are still with me, after being with all those men ... with much ... larger ... dicks."

Vidya laughed, and then leaned over and kissed me.

"Darling, I admit that I love all the sex I am having. The way those large cocks poke deep inside me, it's something you can never do to me. The way I am treated, the roughness ... that's something I can never get from you. And I do accept that I would suddenly become very upset if I couldn't have this amazing sex. On the other hand ..."

Vidya kissed me once again on the mouth. Her tongue probed deep, and then she caressed my manhood.

"We have to have a strong and loving marriage, jaanu. Otherwise we are playing with fire. You do understand this, don't you, my cuckold?"

I felt her hands tighten around my testicles. I nodded.

"I love sex, as I said," Vidya continued, "But I also love the fact that I am married, and yet enjoying all this variety. I love having the emotional security of a stable relationship, but enjoy this casual, no strings attached sex. Plus the fact that you are monogamous, so I am not sharing you with anyone while I am free to have fun. You are the perfect husband. You know your place in our marriage, and you don't interfere. I get to have my cake and eat it too."

We continued to kiss for some time. Her words continued to ring in my head.

I get to have my cake and eat it too.

I could not deny that the experience of being cuckolded is indeed quite sexually exciting. The times I had taken my dick in my hands and wanked off, while watching on my laptop as the cameras recorded my wife getting ravaged on our bed by her lover are too many. However being a cuckold also has its darker side.