Old Man and Indian Wife Ch. 02

"Well, it's probably an enlarged prostate or something." he said, trying to hide his anger and kept watching the TV. I started getting dressed.

I could sense that Pavan was in the mood to open another argument, this time about Alan. Luckily, we had a skype call scheduled with our beloved son Chintu. Thatt ook up two hours. At the end of it, I was feeling a little sleepy so I decided to take a nap. Pavan joined me.

---

After the nap, I started getting ready for dinner. I decided to wear one of my sexier outfits. I hoped that by the end of the night, Pavan would be so pissed off at Alan's outrageous flirting that he would fuck me rough and hard in rage. I liked it rough, and often loved the sex we had after arguments. So to entice Alan as well as to turn on Pavan, I chose a short pleated skirt that ended an inch above my knee. The pleats made it bounce when I walked in heels, displaying a lot of my thighs. And I wore a sleeveless top with a revealing neckline that displayed a lot of cleavage.

As I got dressed, Pavan kept staring at me, as if thinking of saying something. He also seemed turned on, which was the precise effect I was going for. We took the elevator down to the lobby at exactly 8 pm, and found Alan waiting for us.

Alan immediately commented on how "ravishing" I looked and checked me out rather blatantly. I found it inappropriate, but then everything Alan did or said seemed inappropriate, so it was hardly surprising. Alan made a couple more comments, completely ignoring Pavan's presence, not even saying Hi or Hello. Alan himself was dressed in what seemed like old cheap clothes. And he was wearing the most disgusting cologne I had ever smelt. It smelled like he was carrying a dead rodent in his pockets. Despite his modest appearance and horrid cologne, Alan seemed to be bursting with confidence.

He took us to a fancy restaurant which was on the same block as the Venetian. I looked around. there were a lot of empty tables. I noticed Alan slip the maitre'd a twenty dollar bill and whisper something. I looked at Pavan to see if he had noticed, but Pavan was looking elsewhere. We were led to a table very close to a performance stage with some instruments on it. The waiter pulled out a chair for me and I sat down.

Pavan was a couple of steps behind us. Alan took advantage of it and immediately plonked himself on the chair next to me. I was a bit annoyed, and I could tell from Pavan's face that so was he. He sat across from Alan and me, looking visibly peeved. Now, I had been enjoying using Alan to get a rise out of Pavan, but sitting next to this old fart for the whole dinner seemed like a bit much. I expected Pavan to step up and say something. Either ask me to move next to him or ask Alan to switch seats with him. But Pavan just sat there looking upset, as if expecting me to move.

Pavan's passive aggressive behavior about Alan's advances was beginning to tick me off. On one hand, I thought, he flew off the handle if some innocent guy who wasn't even interested in me, sent me a text message. On the other guy, this lecherous old perv was flirting with me in front of him and Pavan was doing nothing. What was wrong with him? Alan started the conversation with small talk about the weather, about Vegas, and such. He was directing his questions and comments only towards me, completely ignoring Pavan. Again, Pavan resembled a miffed hen, but didn't do anything to take control. The waiter came over again and we ordered drinks.

A few minutes later, the band started playing and the loud music filled the air around us. Pavan said something but I couldn't hear him. but I had no problem hearing Alan who was right next to me. I suddenly realized what the twenty dollars had changed hands for. Alan, the wily old fox, had arranged to get a table very close to the band, and then sit next to me so that he could talk to me without Pavan interrupting or hearing.

As soon as the music started, and it became obvious that Pavan couldn't hear us, Alan moved from polite small talk to the sort of blatantly bawdy lines that he had been throwing at me in the pool. he turned to face me completely and asked,

"So does pretty boy over there keep the sheets warm?"

"Excuse me?" I said more out of offense than for a need for clarification. But Alan was immune to offense.

"I mean does he keep that spicy cunt of yours full and happy?" Alan stepped up the lewdness even more.

I stared back at him expressionlessly. I looked at Pavan who wore a nonchalant expression on his face. He clearly hadn't heard Alan's questions. How was I supposed to respond to such an intensely personal question, that too phrased in such a crude manner? I was also surprised that Alan had asked this question. Could he tell from the chemistry between Pavan and me that all wasn't right in bed?

"That's a very personal question. And very vulgar. I am not answering it." I answered.

"Haha, you answered it." Alan cackled.

"No I didn't." I said haughtily.

"Yeah, I have a sixth sense for that sort of a thing. I know what women like you need."

"What?"

"A real man who knows his way around a woman's cooch." Alan said and then slowly put his hand on my knee.

I was taken aback at his boldness in touching me like that in front of my husband. I looked at my husband and saw that he had noticed it too. He looked at me with a furious expression on his face and his eyebrows raised. I waited for the other shoe to drop. I was sure the dinner was going to end abruptly. Any moment, Pavan would spring up from his chair, slap the wrinkly old hand away, and punch the daylights out of Alan. But Pavan just continued looking at me with eyebrows raised.

So I'm supposed to fight him off, I wondered. I decided to push Pavan to his limit and see when he would finally step in. I just shrugged, as if to say - why don't you do something about it?

Alan noticed that I did not slap his hand away, and slowly began rubbing my knee.

"That's what you want. A real man." he repeated.

"And where would I find a real man?" I asked.

"He's sitting right next to you." Alan said and winked.

I tried hard to stop myself from laughing but couldn't. His delusional confidence was amusing. He seemed to actually think that he had a shot of seducing someone like me right in front of my husband? Did he not see that I was just using him as a pawn in my battle of wills with Pavan? That the moment Pavan lost his cool and stood up, Alan would be thrown out of our lives forever?

Obviously, Alan didn't. He ignored my laughter and continued oozing confidence, which had to be genuine because no one could put up an act for that long.

The waiter arrived with our drinks and Alan took his hand off my knee. Pavan and I had ordered beer, while Alan had ordered the most expensive scotch.

"Beer is such a pansy drink. Why don't you have a sip of my scotch?" Alan said.

I nodded, curious to see what such an expensive scotch (it was $35 per drink) tastes like. I wasn't really a scotch fan, but the price got me wondering. I was about to reach for the glass when Alan picked it up and brought it to my lips. I was taken aback by his latest move in flirtation. But it was so close to my lips that I just took a sip.

Wow, strong! the taste hit the back of my throat and I coughed right after I swallowed it. Alan started laughing and said,

"Come on. Don;t take a teeny sip like a schoolgirl. Take a good swig. It gets better."

And again i found the glass at my lips. I took a longer swing and he was right. This one didn't seem too bad. I actually liked the flavor.

"See, you need a real man like me to tell you what's right for her." Alan said and put his arms around me. I felt his fingers on my bare shoulder and looked up at Pavan. he shot me another one of his "what the fuck? stop him!" looks. I shot him another one of my, "you're the man, you stop it!" looks.

The waiter came to take our order for food. He took Pavan's order first. I was about to pick up the menu which I hadn't even looked at when Alan squeezed my shoulder and said.

"Don't bother."

"What?"

"Don't bother. I am ordering for you." his tone changed from flirtatious to assertive, "I told you you need a real man to tell you what's right for you. And that goes for food as well."

I was offended and was about to say something insulting in return. But he squeezed my shoulder hard again, and the words got stuck in my throat. The waiter came over to our side.

"I'll have the lobster. And the lady will have a 16 ounce ribeye, medium rare. And two orders of the same scotch as before"

The waiter looked at me with a curious expression. When I didn't say anything, he nodded and walked off. I looked at Pavan who seemed to have noticed that Alan ordered for me. He knew how finicky I was about ordering food, and I am sure it bothered him. But he didn't say anything. Just sat there seething.

"Alright Shipra." Alan said in his assertive voice. "Let me tell you something."

I looked at him.

"You think you know what's happening and I don't." he said and then continued, carefully choosing his words. "The truth is, you have no clue what is happening. I know completely what is happening, and pretty boy there, he thinks he doesn't know, but he knows in his mind what is happening. Although he isn't ready to accept it yet."

"What?" It sounded like some sort of a puzzle.

"You want me to tell you what you think you know is happening?"

"Okay..." I was confused by his sudden change of tone.

"You think that I am some sort of a pawn in this game between you and your husband."

"What???" I said incredulously.

"Let me finish. You want to use me to push your husband to the edge and see how long it takes before he gets up and kicks my ass."

I stared at him dumbly. He knew?

"So let's say I touch your thigh like this." he moved his hand just over my knee. "You want to see if your husband will lose his cool."

"What are you talking about?"

"And the reason you're using me is, you think I am some deluded old fart who thinks he has a chance of bedding you, something you think will never happen."

"I think?" I laughed and said.

"Yes, you think I have no chance of getting you into bed."

"And I am wrong?"

"So wrong!" he said squeezing my thigh. I started laughing again. He continued.

"You think you're gonna quietly see how far I go with touching you and feeling you up, until it crosses your husband's limits. Then he'll kick me to the curb. And ride home with you into sunset. Am I right?"

"Probably." I saw no need to deny it.

"Now let me tell you what's actually happening." he said, taking his hand off my thigh. "What's happening is, your hubby dearest over there. He wants to see some other man use and abuse his wife. The surly expressions on his face tell me he hasn't come to terms with it yet. But the fact that he's done nothing yet tells me that's exactly what is happening."

"What nonsense!" I shook my head and said.

"It's the truth. You wanna push him some more? Let's see if he says something if I do this."

Alan put his hand back on my thigh and pushed my skirt up a couple of inches. Now half my thigh was on display. This had clearly gone beyond just touching and patting. It was a blatant pass. I looked at Pavan who noticed it. Again, he threw me a look of disgust. but didn't say or do anything. He took a big swig of scotch that he too had now ordered.

"See?" Alan said and kept rubbing my thigh.

"So you're saying my husband wants to see you keep doing this?" I incredulously said.

"Yup."

"Bullshit!" I said. "Look at how angry he is."

"He is only angry because he doesn't know how he feels."

We sat there in silence. I picked up my glass of scotch and took a couple of sips to process the information that Alan had just heaped on me. So he knew that I was just stringing him along. And he insisted that Pavan would not put a stop to anything. That sounded ridiculous to me. I had seen Pavan explode at the slightest suspicion of interest from another guy. The only reason he was silent so far is, he was trying to see when I caved.

Be that as it may. Alan seemed aware of exactly what I was thinking of. So..... why was he still here? Why was he risking getting beaten up by Pavan.

"I know what you're thinking." Alan squeezed my thigh and I looked at him.

"What am I thinking?" I said mockingly, but I was worried that he might actually be reading my mind.

"You are wondering what am I doing here if I know all this?"

I nodded.

"I am here because I know another thing you don't."

"And what's that?" Alan was now beginning to sound like Hercule Poirot at the end of a case.

"That you, my little pixie," he said squeezing my thigh a little higher than he had been, "really are going to get fucked by me tonight."

I started laughing and he joined in. Pavan thought we had shared a joke and looked more peeved.

"I admire your deluded confidence, Alan." I said after I was done laughing.

"And I pity your deluded confidence, Shipra." he replied without batting an eyelid and that shook my self-belief a litle.

The food arrived and Alan started tucking into it with gusto. Pavan started eating his chicken. And I poked at my steak absent-mindedly and was more focused on the scotch. I finished my second one for the night and Alan ordered a third. Whether to keep our game going or to keep his hold on me, Alan continued to stroke my thighs and shoulder throughout dinner. Pavan kept casting me dirty looks. And I started ignoring his looks. By now the ball was squarely in his court.

Actually, I had stopped thinking about the staring game with Pavan, and was wondering about the little side-game with Alan. Alan seemed supremely confident that he would seduce me. Yes, he had a big dick, but it takes a lot more than that to seduce a woman. He was uncouth, rude, arrogant, ugly, dressed lousy, and smelled bad. How could he still think he had a chance with someone like me?

On the other hand, a part of me was charmed and quite frankly fascinated by Alan's confidence. It was amusing. But it was also.... alluring in a fascinating sort of way. I thought it almost impossible that I would go home tonight with anyone but Pavan. But what if I actually did end up sleeping with Alan? The thought revolted and aroused me in equal measure. I was reminded of earlier in the day when I masturbated while casting Alan in my Nigel memories. Could it actually happen? I didn't see any way it could, but still.

In a perverse way, a part of me started wishing for my own felling at the hand of this obnoxious little codger. It's a feeling only women can understand - of being revolted by a sexual prospect, yet wishing for it to happen. I was smiling to myself as I thought of all this. And was just taking a few bites of the steak now and then.

"Eat it. Eat it." Alan said, squeezing my thigh again.

"I am." I smiled at him, trying to suppress the thoughts that were running through my mind.

"You'll need the strength from the protein. I promise I'm gonna keep you up all night." Alan said glibly and got back to wolfing down his food.

I chuckled again at his confidence and the reasoning he gave to urge me to finish my meal. But maybe it was all the scotch I had downed, because I was simply not feeling hungry. A while later, Alan started with his bravado again.

"You'll be my 5th Indian." he said.

"Yeah right." I snorted derisively.

"So what number Indian do you think you'll be for me?" he asked.

"I'll be your..." I paused when I realized what I was about to say. "Oh shut up! I am not going to be your anything."

Alan laughed at the near-success of his trick question. I laughed too. His self-confidence was now moving from amusing to charming, and even a little disconcerting. I continued to drink more often than I was eating. I didn't realize it then, but I myself was putting on a big show of bravado and confidence, whereas subconsciously, I was petrified that Alan might be proved right. And my drinking that much, way more than usual, was my instinctive way of coping with it.

Finally dinner was done. At least Alan's was. Pavan left about half his plate untouched. I left most of mine on the plate. The waiter came and took the plates away. Pavan looked furious, but he also looked ready to leave. Alan said to me,

"Here's another chance for your pretty boy to step up."

Then he got up, bent over and said to Pavan, "We're gonna dance a little."

Alan slid out of his chair and started walking towards the dance floor. I avoided Pavan's gaze, and got up myself. I was rooting for Pavan to step up and say - Enough of this nonsense. Let's go back to the room. I started walking behind Alan. I could feel Pavan's gaze burning into my back. But he didn't say anything. I started wondering if Alan was right. If the article I had read in that magazine was right. Was Pavan really wishing for me to have sex with another man? Is that what his outbursts of jealously were all about?

As i walked to the dance floor, I felt my head spin a little. I wasn't really drunk yet, but I could feel the effects of the scotch on a nearly empty stomach hitting me. No more drinks, I decided. The "dance floor" wasn't much of a dance floor. Just a small area where drunk couples were dancing clumsily. Alan stood a foot away from me and started what he thought was "dancing". It was hilarious. The man had absolutely no rhythm. He just moved his hands and feet and hopped around with supreme confidence. I admired how self-assured he was even when doing something he sucked at. I decided that if even a tenth of what Alan had been implying about his sexual conquests was true, it was all because of his unshakable confidence.

I kept glancing back at Pavan as we danced. His eyes were fixed on us. He wore a bothered look. But again, it bugged me that he didn't exercise the one power he still had - of calling the proceedings to a halt. I heard Alan say something and looked back at him. Or down at him. With heels on, I was at least half a foot taller than him.

"What?" I asked.

"I asked if you're on the pill." he asked with a lecherous smile.

"None of your business." I giggled as I replied. The booze was definitely getting to me.

"It could be my business. I don't want to have to end up paying child support." he winked. I laughed.

"Don't worry. You're not going to have to pay child support."

"Even if I get you pregnant?" he asked, shaking his hands like a rooster.

"Yes, even if you get me pregnant." I laughed and said.

The peppy music continued for at least twenty minutes and we kept dancing. I was impressed by Alan's stamina. I had expected him to be tired by now. But he was still going at it with his ridiculous dance moves. And he kept making lewd comments with the assurance that I was going to end up in his bed that night.

The dance number ended and a slow ballad started. I turned around to head back to the table, but Alan grabbed my hand and pulled me into an embrace. I spun as I almost fell into his arms, but he handled my weight and height easily. He held me and started swaying to the music. I hoped that at least this would be the point Pavan interrupted us.

Alan's armed were locked around me and his hands were on my lower back. I tentatively put my hands on his shoulder and swayed with him slowly. His bald head came barely up to my chin, and once again I felt that bipolar emotion - the disgust that such a man thought he could seduce me, and a fascination at the possibility of it actually happening. A part of me was cheering - "Go Alan Go!"

After a couple of minutes, I felt Alan slowly moved his hand from my back to my butt.

"Oh fuck what an ass!" he whispered and started fondling it.

This was the first time that alarm bells went off in my head and I really wished Pavan would step in. I could not help but feel turned on by his rough fingers kneading my ample buttocks so brazenly and in public view. I noticed that a few people around me were pointing to us and smiling. And I thought about stopping it. Yes, if Pavan does not, I should. I should just stop it. I noticed that Alan's breathing was getting heavier on my neck.