Old Man and Indian Wife Ch. 02

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.

And just as I was about to push him away, I felt it. A gentle poke at my thigh. Oh my god! he was getting an erection right there! I swayed in his arms spellbound as the poking intensified. And soon I felt it, and I mean ALL of it, rubbing along the length of my thigh. Alan began to gently grind against me, rubbing his dick against me, and I started feeling panicky. Just by feeling it grind against me, I could tell it was larger than anything I had ever seen or experienced. Heck, it was even larger than what I had fantasized in the the shower that afternoon. Longer AND thicker.

"What do you think?" Alan whispered as he intensified his grinding. I started feeling alarmed and looked around, hoping no one had noticed it.

"Huh?"

"Do you think your puny little Indian cunt can take something that big?"

"I...I...I...I don't know." I truthfully replied. My throat suddenly felt all parched. For the first time that night, I actually seriously flirted with the possibility that this might happen. And I might let it happen. I could feel myself starting to get wet down there. That's not a great situation to be in - dry throat and wet pussy.

"Maybe we'll see later if it can, huh?" he said and continued grinding the dick even harder against me. I almost felt it invading my skin.

I said nothing and continued swaying, petrified and struggling with conflicting feelings.

"I asked you something." Alan said and pinched my butt really hard. I stared into his eyes. And then whispered my response,

"Maybe..."

The song ended and the band announced a break. Alan let go off me and started leading me back to the table. I looked at the crotch of it pants. And there it was, forming a huge tent now, almost threating to tear apart the fabric. I was feeling disgusted at my reaction to what he had done, but more than that I was enraged at Pavan for watching this silently. As I sat back down i cast him an angry and dirty look. He responded in kind and I looked away in disgust.

There was another glass of scotch at the table and I nervously sipped at it, hoping to calm myself down. I looked back at Pavan and saw that he was staring at the tent in Alan's pants. Pavan must have realized that this old codger had spent the last few minutes rubbing his erection against his beautiful wife. Surely he would say something now. But instead he wore a look of alarm. And I realized that Alan was in complete control of the proceedings. And of my actions. Even sitting at the table, my pussy remained moist.

A few seconds later, I felt the familiar touch of Alan;s wrinkled hands on my thigh. But this time, he didn't stop. the hand kept going and going. All the way inside. before I could open my mouth and yell "STOP!" his finger stroked me. Right there on the clit. He clearly knew where to aim and what to do. My resolve to stop him weakened as his fingers started rubbing my clit over my panties. I could not help but give myself in to the moment, and I closed my eyes and just enjoyed whatever he was doing to me.

Minutes seemed like hours as my arousal grew exponentially with every stroke of his. I marveled at Alan's skill to be able to play with me so deftly over my panties. I wondered what he would do if he got his finger inside. A few moments later, i got my answer. His other hand poked at my thighs meaningfully and I parted them. This allowed Alan to slip his finger into the side of my panties and touch my clit directly. I was in a daze as I started experiencing please that was tenfold of what he had been giving to me over the panties. I could feel my nipples harden and poke against my top.

I was at that moment more turned on than I had ever been in recent memory. And I could feel a mammoth orgasm approaching. Even in that state, I could not help but think of Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally. If this went on for a while more, I would be having what she had, or what she pretended to have. It was coming. It was bearing down. I could feel it. I knew it would create a scene, but I didn't care.

And then, Alan took his hand out. Just seconds away from climax. I could not help but moan in frustration. I had been so close. But at the same time, I was glad it hadn;t happened. I opened my eyes and looked into Pavan's. His face wore an odd expression. Angry, aghast, but also, turned on. maybe Alan was right. maybe my husband, unknowingly, was rooting for this to happen as well. That's why he didn't stop me when he should have. What a wimp! But it was in my hands too, wasn't it? I looked away from him in shame.

Alan got up. I was staring at the table when I heard him say,

"I am taking her to my suite back at the Venetian. You can come along too if you want."

It was clearly directed at Pavan. Alan held out his hand in my direction. From his perspective, all the hard work was done. The trap was laid. He just needed to swoop in and finish the job off. I was let him rub his dick against me, and then let him finger me into a state of frenzy in a public place. Of course I was, at that point of time, all but ready for the kill. I wanted it. I needed it. It was going to be the culmination of the chapter that had started in Goa all those years ago, but cut short by Nigel's wife. It was a more primal and intense need than I had ever felt with Pavan. I had to go.

But as far gone as I was, and as eager as I felt to take his hand and go with him, a part of me resisted. No, this is not right. I am a married woman. This man sitting across from me is the father of my child. How could he just sit back and let this happen? Surely it was his job to stop me.

"Pavan." I said in a voice I myself could barely recognize.

"Hmmm?" he said, looking stunned.

"What should I do?" I asked in a voice that was on the verge of breaking down. I fought back the instinct to cry.

Pavan just stared at me. Alan was still holding his hand out.

"What should I do, Pavan?" I said once more in a high pitched voice.

In my mind, I silently implored Pavan to say - don't go, or this is enough, or let's get out of here. Instead he stared at me for what seemed like an eternity.

And then he shrugged.

He shrugged!

He fucking shrugged!!!

This man, my husband couldn't even bring himself to say what he was feeling. If he wanted it to stop, he wasn't able to verbalize it. And if he actually wanted it to happen like Alan had been insisting all along, he didn't have the fortitude to admit it. After riding roughshod over a lot of other decisions in our lives, he was leaving this crucial one for me. So he could blame me later?

I exhaled loudly and threw Pavan a look of disgust. I took Alan's hand and got up. He put his arm around my waist and led me away, strutting like a peacock. ---