Old Man and Indian Wife Ch. 02

"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.

"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.