Old Man and Indian Wife Ch. 02

"I said, check who it is from." Pavan said sounding really upset.

I gave up and took my cellphone out of the purse. I checked the text. It said -

'shipra, UPS came wit urgnt pckg fr Pavan. I signd n took it. Hv fun. -J'

"Is it Jeff?" Pavan asked in an angry voice.

"Yes, but Pavan, he's just..." I started explaining the harmless, even helpful contents of the text message. But before I could complete my sentence, Pavan stormed off.

He strode to the room angrily, turned the TV on and sat on the bed looking ready to explode like that last time.

"He's doing it just to ruin our vacation." Pavan yelled.

"No Pavan." I said trying to explain. But Pavan would have none of it.

"Shipra, I want you to text back in caps - NEVER TEXT OR CALL ME AGAIN"

"Come on Pavan. Don't be silly." I said, surprised at how much he was overreacting.

"Shipra, DO IT!!!" he yelled, the angriest I had ever seen him. Rage was billowing from his eyes and I saw that look I had seen when he had pushed me to the bed last week.

I was shell-shocked at this turn of events. Just a minute ago, we were passionately making out in the elevator, on our way to a definite romp in bed. And Pavan was ruining the mood by throwing a tantrum that was utterly uncalled for. Even worse, he wasn't even giving me a chance to explain that Jeff had only texted to tell us that he had taken a package from the courier service for us. I tried to form a short sentence I could slip in to calm him down when he screamed,

"ARE YOU GOING TO DO IT OR NOT?"

"Pavan, please. It's so unnecessary. And rude." I said.

"Fine. I am going to sleep." Pavan said and started changing.

I was just flabbergasted. And I felt so hurt that I started crying. Pavan ignored me and changed into shorts. he took a couple of strong Tylenol pills and laid down on the bed, turned away from me. I was distraught at not even being able to explain my side to him. And by then, he was so angry that I wondered if it would have any effect. I lay down next to him, sobbing. I felt extremely wronged, even more than I ever had. I waited for him to calm down so I could explain everything. Instead, he started snoring in a while.

At that point, my sadness started turning to anger. And my anger is not like Pavan's explosive and raging anger. My anger is a quiet seething anger. I had been very patient and understanding with Pavan until then. Taken the first steps towards rapprochement. And what had it earned me? Yells and insults? I stopped crying, and seethed at Pavan's childish behavior.

Fine, I decided. I was done trying to make up. It takes two to tango after all. I was the innocent party here. He was the paranoid one. From now on, he should take the initiative to work things out. I am only going to focus on having a good time, I decided. I also took a couple of the pills and fell asleep soon.

In the morning, both of us were quiet. I decided to wait for Pavan to make the first move. he seemed intent on waiting for me. But at least things were cordial. We had breakfast and then pavan suggested taking a Gondola ride in the Venetian's little pond. It was a small but cute reproduction of the actual gondola rides in V enice and I had fun. We then went back to the strip and hit the other casinos. Pavan focused on gambling, I focused on taking in the amazing atmosphere.

We spoke to each other occasionally. But those were polite conversations from a cease-fire. No passion, no love. Just hanging out like we were two acquaintances who had run into each other in Vegas.

Soon it was time for lunch. I had been admiring the Venetian's poolside restaurant earlier. I suggested we go there. Pavan agreed. Then I remembered the yellow bikini I had bought, and even shaved my pussy for. I thought of a devious plan to break Pavan. I could wear the bikini and frolic around the pool in it. That would weaken his resolve for sure. At the very least, it would tease him. I asked him if we could go upstairs so I could change into my swimsuit. He smiled and nodded.

When I put the bikini on in the bathroom, I had to stop and marvel at how great I looked in it. The yellow color went great with my Indian-white complexion. The top snugly fit my boobs while giving the appearance that they would spill out any moment. The bottoms were perfectly cut and my thighs looked appealing. And I turned around to check my bubble butt, which looked extremely inviting.

As soon as I walked out, the look in Pavan's eyes said it all. I could see a look of pure lust as he checked me out. I did my best to appear nonchalant and I walked around the room, occasionally bending over on the pretext of picking up some scrap. I could see that my teasing was having an effect. For a few moments, I was convinced that Pavan would jump me and ravish me right there. What better way to get over a fight than with passionate fucking. I was almost ready for it. But Pavan seemed to decide against it. Stubborn man, I thought. Letting go of this opportunity for the sake of a fight that had been over nothing.

Pavan changed into his swimming trunks in front of me. I could see that his dick was semi-erect. The bikini had done its job. Pavan was simply too stubborn to let his dick to the thinking on the one occasion that he should have.

After he changed, I tied a matching yellow sarong around my waist and we went down to the restaurant. We got a table right next to the pool, and from the corner of my eye, I noticed several people checking me out. And why wouldn't they? Most of the women at the pool were either young thin, almost anorexic ones, or fat ones. I was the only one who fit the description "voluptuous" and filled out a bikini the way it was meant to be. Pavan also kept casting admiring glances at me throughout the meal.

I decided to try and tease him again. I go up and told him I was getting into the pool. If just the bikini had turned him on so much, I couldn't wait to see how he would react to it being wet. I got into the pool not with the intention of swimming, but teasing my husband. I swam short laps in different strokes close to where Pavan was eating. I did the backstroke, shaking my shoulders more than necessary, making the boobs jiggle in the bikini top, and give the impression that they would spill out any moment. The cold water also made my nipples hard.

Pavan's eyes had been locked on me for a while, but then I noticed he looked away. I followed his gaze to the other end of the pool and wondered if he was checking out some other woman. But I didn't see any women there. Just a couple of boys and an old man.

I decided that I had cast the bait for Pavan. Now it was his turn to bite. So I waded away to the far end of the pool. Now if he wanted to see me splash around in my bikini, he'd have to come over. I stood at the shallow end of the pool waiting for Pavan to jump in the water and swim over.

Instead, I saw a bald headed old man swimming towards me laboriously. He was headed straight for me, so I politely moved to the side to let him through. Instead of passing by he came to a stop and stood in the water next to me with a lecherous grin on his face.

"Has anyone told you that you're the hottest woman in Vegas today?" he said sounding cocksure and flirtatious. Not in the tone of some grandpa having a conversation, but someone actually trying to flirt. I felt like laughing at his corny line. But instead smiled and said,

"No. I don't think my husband would appreciate that." A line that usually worked with people hitting on me. It communicated that I was married, hence taken, and it sent the wolves packing. This guy was persistent thought.

"Your husband won't appreciate his wife being the hottest woman in Vegas? What an asshole." he said and cackled.

I was amused at his confidence. Especially such an ugly pudgy little man being so confident. I was not really used to that. Usually non-studs were intimidated by me looks.

"You look like a spicy little thing. Where are you from?" he asked, blatantly staring at me.

"New Jersey." I replied hoping to throw him off.

"And before that?" he calmly continued, not reacting to my wise-ass answer.

"Bombay, India." I replied.

"Ah, I should've figured." he said and slapped his forehead. "The hottest bitches I've fucked have been from Bombay."

I was about to burst out laughing. Was this his idea of flirting? Talking about "bitches" he "fucked"? But i was amused at his bravado.

"Is that so?" I said sarcastically.

"Yeah. I am quite the catch. Ask your curry dothead sisters."

As if profanity and lewd staring wasn't enough. this old fogey had thrown a racist slur into the mix. I began wondering if I was on candid camera or something.

"I'm Alan." he said.

"Shipra." I responded.

"Shipra. What an erotic name. That's what I love about Indian women's names. Just saying them a few times is enough to give a guy a boner."

I blushed a little and giggled.

"So where's your husband?" he asked.

I gestured towards our table where Pavan was talking to the waiter.

"Damn, that's too close. If he weren't here, I'd have hit on you, you little minx."

I was even more taken aback. "little minx"? I was at least 4 inches taller than this flabby geriatric. But I was amazed at his unrelenting confidence. Despite my rebuffing his advances at every stage, he kept striking back. He reminded me a bit of the black knight from the Monty Python sketch (look it up). He sensed my amazement and struck another shot.

"That husband of your seems okay. But you deserve someone really special."

"Like who?"

"Like me of course!" he said, sounding genuinely serious. Either this old timer really believed he was god's gift to women, or he had been hypnotized by someone at one of the Vegas shows. I could not help but giggle at his response. He laughed as well.

"You know that's one heckuva deep cleavage you've got. Mind showing me your ass?" he winked.

"Yes, I do mind." I responded. he was funny but there were limit to banter.

"Not a problem. I got a good look anyway. Nice full ass. Not skinny and tiny like girls today. You're a mom aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Nothing makes a woman hotter and more fuckable than motherhood." he said. "I better control myself or your husband will have to arrange for alimony."

I giggled at this latest wisecrack and tried to puncture his bubble.

"You seem really confident, considering...."

"Considering?"

"Well, considering..." I gestured towards him indicating that he wasn't quite the catch he was acting like.

"I am usually shy. Tongue tied." he said.

"Really?"

"Yeah, but a hot bod with a smoldering face like you got.....it could make any man take his chances." he said. I giggled again.

"Shipra!" I heard Pavan's voice. He had come around to the other edge. I looked at him. I heard him say something about dessert but wasn't sure what it was.

I nodded at him and said,

"Nice meeting you Alan. Goodbye." and without waiting for him to respond, swam towards Pavan.

"What did you say?" I put my elbows on the edge of the pool and asked him.

"The dessert. I ordered you..." Pavan started saying but was interrupted.

"And who might you be? Her father?" I heard Alan's voice. He had followed me and was now standing inches away from me, his wrinkly fingers grabbing on to the edge of the pool.

"Hehe..I told you he's my husband!" I laughed. "Pavan, meet Alan."

"Pleased to meet you." Alan extended his hand towards Pavan who bent down to shake it. he grabbed the hand and said,

"So you're the lucky son of a bitch who gets to take this gorgeous little pixie home every night huh?"

I almost burst out laughing at being called a little pixie. I also noticed that Pavan was struggling to free his hand from Alan's grip but wasn't succeeding. Pavan is very strong, so I was a bit surprised by that.

"Why did a spicy bombshell like you settle for an old fart like him, huh?" Alan said and started laughing, still grabbing on to Pavan's hand.

I was amused at this comment. Inwardly, I was laughing at Alan, not Pavan's discomfort. Alan was easily twice my age if not more. For him to call Pavan an old fart seemed ridiculous. Pavan however looked at me with a furious expression. he seemed to think I was amused at Alan's joke. I was actually glad to see Pavan in an uncomfortable position for a change. So just to piss him off even more, I giggled and said,

"Hehe...I don't remember actually."

Alan laughed really hard and released Pavan's hand. I then felt him put his arm around me and gently touched my shoulder. I was about to shake it off when I noticed the furious look in Pavan's face. And it amused me. There you go, I thought to myself. He's always imagining people hitting on me. Here's an actual man feeling me up. Let's see how Mr. Angry responds. Pavan seemed on the verge of erupting. But he stayed silent. A few seconds ticked back and I could hear Alan giggling softly as he kept his hand on my shoulder.

"Shipra! The dessert!" Pavan said in an annoyed voice.

Alright, the joke's gone far enough, I decided. No point in giving Pavan a coronary. He was no spring chicken either after all. I pulled myself up and out of the swimming pool, realizing that this must have given the close-up look at my ass he wanted. I walked with Alan to our table and sat down. I was shocked when Alan sat down on a chair at our table.

"Yeah, their souffle is the best." he said, moving his chair close to mine. "I have eaten at the most expensive restaurants in this country. And the souffle here is the best."

"Is that so?" Pavan asked with undisguised contempt. But Alan clearly wasn't the kind who was thrown off by contempt.

"Oh yeah, I'm loaded. Got a dozen real estate companies all over the country."

"Really?" I asked with disbelief doing my best to suppress a laugh. This guy was loaded? Then I was the Queen of England. He was so obviously bullshitting just to talk himself up. I looked at Pavan who looked very annoyed at me for some reason.

"Yup! Ole Alan's got a lot of cash in case you ever wanna leave this old fart." Alan said and winked at me. I started laughing at his clueless machismo.

Pavan however looked even more pissed off. This was the second time he'd been called an old fart by a man old enough to be his father. I found it hilarious, and expected Pavan to reply with a stinging retort. Pavan was usually quick with words. But Alan seemed to have gotten under his skin. And that amused me. I laughed and Pavan shot me another dirty look.

"Yeah, ole Alan knows all about livin' it up in Vegas. In fact, why don't I take you to dinner to a real fancy place tonight? And then some fine cocktails?" Alan said looking into my eyes and then said, "Ponaav, you can come too."

I saw that Pavan was ticked off at what seemed like a blatantly deliberate mispronunciation of his name. Normally, Pavan would've responded in kind, saying something quick-witted like - No thank you Elton. You don't seem like the kind who belongs in a fancy place. Instead Pavan responded in a huff,

"Sorry, but we're busy tonight. We have a lot of plans. Right, Shipra?"

I looked at Alan with curiosity to see how he would respond. I was enjoying this childish verbal joust between the two men and was curious to see Alan's next move. In my curiosity, I didn't realize that I was supposed to say something and an eerie silence ensued.

"Right, Shipra?" Pavan said loudly and I looked at him. His face was red with rage and I was enjoying this. I decided that if Pavan wanted to shake this old leech off, he should do it himself. Like the protective alpha male that he pretends to be. I wasn't going to help him out.

'Oh..umm...what's our plan for tonight?" I asked.

"You mean you ain't got plans?" Alan said. "It's settled then. I'll see you two in the lobby at 8!"

Pavan glared at me. I looked back at him expressionlessly. The look on his face was obvious - I was supposed to say no. But I actually looked forward to some more Pavan-baiting. Plus what was there for me to lose? We'd get a free meal in a fancy restaurant with Alan's amusing quixotic antics.

"Okay, 8 it is." I said.

"Splendid." Alan said rubbing my bare shoulder. "See you then, little pixie. Bye Ponaav."

"It's Pavan." my husband responded testily but Alan ignored him Instead he got up to walk away, and the crotch of his speedo was very close to my face. Instinctively, I turned to look and was amazed to see an enormous...ENORMOUS bulge that I hadn't noticed before. I looked away immediately, not wanting to be caught staring at his crotch. But it was too late. Alan had clearly seen me notice, and chuckled as he left. And Pavan seemed to have noticed too, because he was looking even more irate.

We walked to the room in silence. And Pavan exploded,

"What a slimy pathetic old geezer! Why the fuck did you accept his invitation?"

"You could've said no." I pointed out and took my sarong off.

"I did. But you gave him a chance to put his foot in the door." I yelled.

"Come on, Pavan. He's just a silly old man. What harm can it do?" I said and walked to the bathroom. But even as I said that, I was thinking about the bulge in Alan's speedos.

I took off my bikini and stepped into the shower naked. As I felt the water wash over me, I replayed the whole incident in my head and giggled. It had been fun to see Pavan get all hot and bothered. He had no response to Alan's verbal barbs or his blatant flirting. What a remarkably entertaining guy Alan was, I thought. Where does someone so old, wirnkly and ugly get such confidence?

And then I remembered the bulge in his speedos. It could have been an enlarged prostate, common with men that age. Or maybe he had a really big dick. I wondered how it looked. That is when the memories of that morning with Nigel in Goa came flooding back. Like Nigel, Alan was also a pasty old white man. I guessed heir dicks would look similar. I closed my eyes and remembered how Nigel's white circumcised dick looked. And before I knew it, I found myself in a fantasy.

I was replaying the events of that morning many years ago, but imagining Alan in the place of Nigel. I pictured a huge white erect dick. I imagined sucking it as Alan kept calling me "little pixie" and "spicy little thing". I then imagined him fingering my naked clit as I sucked his big dick. All the while, I was fingering my clit in the shower of course. before I knew it, a tsunami of an orgasm was surging through my entire body. I had to fight back the urge to holler, lest Pavan walk in with concern. The orgasm swept over me for a good thirty seconds or so and the end of it, I sank down on my knees in the shower.

I got up and started soaping myself, amazed at what I had just done. It wasn't the first time I had masturbated in the shower while thinking of someone other than Pavan. But it had usually been older filmstars - my favorites being Naseeruddin Shah, Kevin Spacey, and Sean Connery. The number of varied fantasies I had thought up of those three fine actors ravishing me could fill up an entire porn library. But it was the first time someone as ugly and despicable as Alan had made an entrance. I decided it was the effect of seeing his bulge so up close and personal.

I got done with the shower and walked out. The bulge in Alan's crotch was still playing on my mind. Maybe it was just prostate after all. I looked aat Pavan, sitting there looking like a child throwing a tantrum. I decided to take his opportunity to needle him a little.

"Pavan, did you notice Alan's.... you know....swimming costume?" I asked.

"Huh?" he acted like he had no idea what I was talking about.

"You know, the size of it? You probably didn't notice. It was huge!" I said, curious to see how he would react.

From his face, I could see he was feeling pissed off. At six inches with a good girth, Pavan was not lacking in that department at all. But like all men, he often obsessed over questions of size.