My Kinky Husband Ch. 01

The first real indications of my husband's perverted mind came just a few months after I moved to the US with him after our arranged marriage in India.

We were in a car heading for a beach weekend, something I was both excited and nervous about. We had been on the freeway for a little while when I asked a question that was on my mind.

"Why are there so many honks today? Usually you don't hear a horn in America for days."

He laughed and pointed to the broad sunroof while he drove.

"They are giving you compliments."

"What?"

I immediately sat up. As if I weren't conscious about my clothes already.

I was wearing a tube top that barely contained my 34D breasts. And a short pleated skirt. These were clothes picked by my husband. Clothes I was not used to, having grown up in orthodox small town north India. I was wearing them at his insistence.

When I had fully covered daily video calls with my mother, she always asked me, was I happy? Was he a good man? And I honestly answered her, yes.

In things that mattered, he was a good man. No wonder my parents had chosen him for me. Our community, good looking, qualified, in a good job abroad on green card track, bought his own home recently, and a car.

He was well behaved with me, gentle in bed for the most part, took me out for meals and shopping and trips. I could not work so he bought me whatever I wanted to fill my time, which was mostly musical instruments that I liked trying or different electronic gadgets. He never said no to anything I asked for.

Nor did he treat me like a maid, as had happened with my other girlfriends who married NRIs. He did half the chores often while on Bluetooth research calls. He cooked frequently. He seemed very well read.

He was usually a man of few words. A brilliant research scientist, whose full potential could only be unlocked in the US. But he mostly stayed lost in his science thoughts. We rarely had any long soulful chats. When he talked, it was very to the point, almost transactional.

He was pretty much the kind of husband I had seen in my family. Quiet, imposing, not given to displays of affection. Earned well, looked good, would make a good father. Everything I was hoping for. Everything any girl brought up to be a housewife could hope for.

The only strange thing about him, which I could not really share with my mother, was how he had some kinks in sex that were quite unusual. And which involved pushing me out of my comfort zone.

For example, whenever we went out, he insisted on picking out my clothes. I say "my clothes" but really, they were clothes he had bought for me.

I was surprised when I reached his place....our place...in America for the first time and found a closet full of new clothes, all my size, all brand new, all shorter than anything I had worn before. And they all fit well. I was impressed as well as unnerved that he found my sizes so perfectly without ever asking my measurements.

I came from a town so orthodox that the elders there wanted to ban women from trying on jeans and even Chinese food (don't ask). So I had never really worn anything shorter than a sober knee length skirt, that too in safe indoor confines. And given my ample bosom, I generally kept it well concealed too, with no tops with low neck. He though was very keen on me showing cleavage.

I had left the clothes untouched for a few days until once I found a tank top and a short skirt laid out for me with sexy panties. He had told me we would be going out for a date night. Which I was excited about. But wearing this?

"These clothes are a little bold for me. I will get stares." I meekly protested.

"Grow up. This is America." He said in a tone of finality.

My parents had taught me to obey my much smarter husband. So even though I felt uncomfortable, I complied.

"Don't look so terrified." He said, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

"Someone could see a glimpse of my behind as I walk." I said.

"So what? Everyone has an ass. Don't be a frumpy aunty. You are just 24 years old. Live a little." He picked up the car keys.

He took me to a nice fancy bar. Ordered me a tall sweet cocktail to nurse. I didn't come from a drinking family. These were the first real strong alcoholic drinks of my life. That he had introduced me to.

"Are you tipsy?"

"I think so." I said noticing a man sitting by the side booth checking me out. "People are looking at me."

"Well, you look hot. Get used to it."

I was conscious about every look I got, every man clearly hoping that my skirt would fly a little extra. But in general, it was nowhere as bad as in India, where women feel like prey.

"Get on my lap. Don't argue."

Sitting in his lap, I could feel a lot of eyes on me, and especially the lower half of my big round butt. Which the short skirt hung over like an awning. I tried to keep it down but he grabbed my hand and pulled me towards him.

I felt like telling everyone, I'm his wife. Proper wife. Not some whore.

We kissed. But not for long. I think he could sense my discomfort.

"Let's go home."

He shamelessly put his hand under my skirt and fondled my butt, showing my panties to everyone, as we walked out.

I felt an odd mix of sentiments in the car. I was shocked and nervous. But I was also turned on. He had that look on his face he always had before ravishing me. I liked it.

Not that I had anyone to compare him with, but he was very good in bed. He always gave a lot of time to foreplay and got me nice and wet before shoving his cock in me. He always made sure he brought me off with his tongue when he entered me. I never measured his cock but it was good sized and filled me up nicely. And he went on for a long time, bringing me to multiple orgasms, with almost scientific accuracy and frequency.

That night was also the first night he got a bit extra kinky in bed. Nothing scandalous. He fucked me from behind while I was wearing just the skirt. And he spanked my ass and pulled my hair a lot. I enjoyed it. I actually came quite hard.

"You okay with the rough stuff?" he asked after sex as he lit up his usual cigarette, fondling my ass half red from his spanks.

"So far yeah." I honestly said.

"I'm sorry if I got carried away. I have no intention of my kinks drifting into domestic abuse."

I laughed and shook my head at how he talked in such a formal way. With his cum sprayed over my boobs.

"No, I really did enjoy it myself. There is no domestic abuse.'

He nodded and smoked silently for a couple of minutes as I snuggled naked against him. I had gotten used to the tobacco smell by now.

"Any time you think I'm pushing you beyond what you are comfortable with, just say so."

I nodded.

"I have some fantasies, some kinks, some urges that I want to try out. That I think you will enjoy too once you get used to living in an open society. I might push you a little. But I have no intention in kicking you out of your comfort zone. So anytime something goes too far, just raise your voice and say STOP like you mean it."

"Thank you." In that moment I was thankful for his concern for my consent. In theory.

This proved to be tricky for a couple of reasons.

One was that in the moment of arousal itself, he was a lot more assertive. And I, being diffident by nature, got a lot more submissive. He got introspective only in the retrospective. And often, so did I.

The other and probably bigger reason was, despite my ingrained misgivings, it's not like I really hated being sexualized like this. In fact I would end such nights very satisfied. Because the shorter I dressed in public, the more often and longer my husband fucked me on coming home.

Other times he was busy in his work, even when sitting next to me. He called it working in his head. Sex was the only "quality time" I got with my my ever busy husband.

I was starting to enjoy my own objectification, even as someone from a society that tried to neutralize my sexuality. I still remember how in my puberty, I went from the cute charming talkative little girl in the eyes of my dad to some precious cargo to be protected.

And my mom got distressed as my boobs kept growing larger. Her own were not big. She blamed dad's genes. Saying the worst curse god can give a modern Indian woman was a big bosom.

And I soon learned why. The stares and gropes when my breasts showed even the slightest shape against a kurta. I couldn't dream of anything more. I had developed a natural hunch to not make them prominent.

After that first night, I got okay with this thing of his of picking out my clothes. And also started getting comfortable with skin show. Mainly because Americans didn't typically stalk or harass or even stare too much. In India, the simplest short dress brings so much harassment. I liked America's laid-back attitude regarding skin show and PDA.

I started shaving my legs and even my pussy, because that's how he said things are in America. He even asked around and found a good Brazilian waxing place for me where a Korean aunty left me completely smooth down there once a fortnight.

I was becoming "Americanized", as some of my close friends teased me when I shared a few details blushing. Their sex lives were quite vanilla. Some said they were jealous of me when I said I typically had 5 orgasms in an hour with him.

I had noticed that once I got comfortable with short western clothes, he started pushing the envelope more. The weather had gotten warmer. He came home with a few swimsuits, from simple one piece to string bikinis.

They themselves were scandalous to me when he opened the other bag. It had a bunch of sex toys too! I blushed. He smiled.

"Do you think this could fit in you?" He picked up the biggest dildo.

I blushed again. It was huge! My husband was long and thick himself, but this was even longer and thicker.

"Ten inches." the scientist informed me.

"Wow." I mentally measured the distance between my belly button and my pussy. Could I take it?

"So? Will it fit in you?"

"I don't know! The only one that's been in there is you!"

"Valid point. We'll find out tonight after sex. Now I have to do some headwork. You should model the swimsuits for me as I think."

For some reason, I found it so hot that my husband used me as a break between his difficult research thinking. I modeled them for him. Going to the other room to change and walking back in, as he stroked his erection.

When I was in the string bikini, he took me to the bedroom and fucked me, hard, moving the bikini to the side for about fifteen minutes. And then slowly but firmly, while playing with my clit, shoved the dildo all the way in. It was surprising how easily I took it all. I had three huge orgasms. After that, dildo fucking after sex became a pretty routine thing.

When he reached for the dildo drawer, I knew I had to get on my back, open my legs and raise my ass. He would kneel over me and fuck me with those dildos between fucking me with his dick.

It was the next day that we were in the car driving to the beach weekend and I had attracted the attention of the truckers. I had sat up.

"Don't be shy. Lean back. Close your eyes if you feel uncomfortable."

I did. But couldn't close my ears. There was a honk.

"Roll down your top and show your tits to the next trucker."

"What???"

"Do what I'm saying. And make eye contact with him."

It took me a few seconds to gather the courage to do it. My pussy was getting wet at the thought of some big burly white truck driver seeing my body.

I did it. Rolled down the top. My nipples were erect as I made eye contact with the trucker perched high in the cabin as we passed him. He gave a long appreciative honk.

I stayed that way for a few more minutes when husband pulled off to the side of the freeway by a wooded area. He then took me right there in the woods, stripping me completely naked. He felt extra hard and thick that day. And I was extra wet.

After our quickie, I started putting the clothes back on when he said,

"Stay naked."

"What if a police car passes by?"

"That's the thrill."

Oh my god, was I really going to walk out just buck naked on the highway? It was one thing in the empty American woods. But on the highway?

I did it though. Obeying him. He followed a step behind gazing at my butt. The road was deserted. Until a car passed by on the other side of the freeway. I saw the man's eyes get big as he saw my naked form.

I didn't feel ashamed. I felt a thrill. As did hubby clearly. He told me to get in the back seat. Then went down on me with his tongue giving me a nice intense orgasm before fucking me again. He let me get dressed only after I swallowed him.

We got back on the road. I was riding a high of orgasms and feeling very lovey dovey about this weirdo of mine.

"Those truckers all looked like they wanted to fuck you." he said in a happy voice.

"I suppose." I blushed.

"Would you have wanted to fuck a trucker?

"What? No!" I said.

"Surely you think about sex with men other than me in your fantasies." he said so calmly and non judgmentally.

Of course I did. But our relationship was still too new for me to be totally honest with him. We eventually got there, because my husband is brutally honest in a very disarming way. Why even his kinks feel so wholesome.

"How much do you masturbate when home alone?"

"What kind of questions you ask." I blushed.

He sensed my discomfort. And he dropped it. The truth was a bit embarrassing to share. I used to only masturbate once a day, while taking a bath or shower. But since he got me into all this kinky stuff, I was doing it every few hours. I didn't even know I had the capacity to be this horny.

We eventually reached the beach house. It was next to a public beach which was not too crowded. Mostly other couples or young groups.

In many ways, this was my first real beach vacation.

I had been to Indian beaches many times. But always very covered up. At the most shorts to get in the water. Max to Max a very longish one piece. Bikinis and all were for foreigners and sluts in that world.

But my husband was not that type of an Indian. He had packed four bikinis for me, of varying surface areas. The skimpiest made me blush just looking at how tiny it was.

"Let's change and go to the beach"

He said, pulling down his pants. I could see his nice thick pretty dick semi erect. My husband has such a pretty cock, he could be a dildo model. He saw me look and smile.

"I'll be honest. I'm very aroused by the idea of you in skimpy beachwear and men checking out your body. It's been a fantasy of mine for years."

"But you haven't known me years."

"Haha, not you specifically."

I fidgeted around in the suitcase with the bikinis. There was a perfectly respectable one. Still not something I had ever worn in India, but at least it covered everything private.

He walked up behind me and looked over my shoulder. I felt his dick poke against my butt and his lips at my ear.

"I want to fuck you first."

"Where do you want me?"

"Right here."

I smiled wide and giggled a bit.

"What's funny?"

"Not funny. Just.... It's about lunchtime and you'll be having me for the fifth time!"

"Well observed. My libido is enhanced significantly when indulging in my kinks. Besides, your body, your face, your general personality, it does get me very aroused. You are objectively desirable."

He gave such dorky compliments. But they worked on me.

He fucked me really hard that time! And I also was my most responsive.

"You liked flashing the truckers.."

"Yes..oh yes yes yes yes... Like that.."

"Those truckers got a look at your nakedness directly."

"Oh fuck...oh I'm so close..."

"Maybe you should fuck one of them."

That somehow set me off and I came really hard. He spanked me throughout it, enhancing the pleasure.

Maybe it was the after glow of the orgasm but I suddenly felt bolder. And excited. I picked up one of the skimpier bikinis. He noticed and smiled.

It had thong style bottoms that revealed more of my butt than ever before. At least it covered the front properly unlike the g-strings that sat right on my labia. The top was also more skimpy than anything I had worn before but at least it kept my nipples secure.

As we settled down on the beach in front though, I realized that my husband was more intent on showing me off than anything else.

"Lay down on your stomach so everyone can see your ass."

I did as was told. From behind my sunglasses, I could see that many men were checking me out.

"You can read or be on your phone or whatever. I'm just going to observe how the men react as I put sunblock on you."

And he got on top of me.

Soon his smooth hands were rubbing the milky liquid all over my body. Almost naked body. I got goosebumps.

"Are you turned on?" He asked.

"Yes." I hissed.

"Good."

I felt his fingers untying the bikini top.

"What are you doing?" I hissed.

He ignored me. I felt the flimsy thing pull away in his yank. And I was suddenly topless, though still face down, hiding my boobs.

"I will get arrested." I said.

"Nope. I checked. It's legal in this state for a woman to be topless in public. America is different."

He was straddling me and I could feel his erection forming against my back. And the information did calm me. Because my only worry was what if a cop we saw earlier walked by. But if it was legal and it was my one and only husband doing this, why am I resisting?

I gave in as he turned me over and started massaging my naked boobs with lotion. I counted at least 4 men watching from a distance in various spots. He saw them too. Turned on my back, I could also see his erection straining his shorts.

I put my hand in there. He smiled in appreciation.

And he kept massaging me until I was very horny as I kept giving him a handjob. And then he skillfully put his fingers in my thong and gave me a quick orgasm right there on the beach. Which several men smilingly noticed. Just as I was recovering from the after wave,

"Quickly take it in your mouth."

He slipped his shorts down and pulled my face to his crotch.

His dick was in my mouth barely a second before he jizzed in my mouth. It wasn't much. Sixth time in the day.

"That's another item off the bucket list." He said, slipping his shorts back up. A couple of men had given us thumbs up signs.

"Bucket what?"

"You know, a list of things you dream of doing at least once before you die." he explained, playing with my nipples.

"So what was this entry in the list exactly?"

"It's not written down. Mental list. This was, flashing my wife topless at the beach, getting her to swallow me after I finger bang her. With other people watching. All adults of course."

I leaned up and kissed my pervy dork. My boobs mashed together as I did it. I noticed two more men taking in this almost naked show by a random Indian couple.

I was getting really comfortable laying there in public doing all this like a porn star. So I might as well see the extent of it in his mind, right?

"What else is there on your bucket list that involves me?"

"I'd rather not lay everything out least it scare you."

"I appreciate that. But in the spirit of full honesty that you often extoll, I would rather hear the whole slate of things in your mind, given that it's my body that will be used."

Wait, who said that? He had rubbed off on me! I was debating him like in high school contests. In his own terms.

"That is a very valid point." He said. "Might I ruminate a moment?"

"Sure."

He stroked my ass pensively.

"You do realize that I could still selectively edit what I share with you?"

"But then you wouldn't be the man I married." Wow, look at me, winning arguments with the brainiac!

"Alright. Here goes. Obviously, the trucker thing, restaurant etc were part of it. There is a lot of exhibitionist stuff. But then there's involving third parties that are not dildos. For example look at that guy..."