Indian Wife is a Diwali Night Treat

Note - This story is an Indianization of a story I read several years ago. I have changed the basic details and altered the plot slightly. The characters used in this story are Yashodhara and Ajit from my story series Indian Wife's Descent and the events here happen a couple of years after it. It is not necessary to read that series to follow this one, but it will help get a grasp of where the characters stand.

*

It was about 9 pm on a Saturday night when Yashodhara and I drove up to a large house on the outskirts of the Midwestern town we lived in. The house was decked up in lights with several Chinese lanterns hanging from it. There was a big group of children to one side of the house, setting off fireworks. Watching them, sat half a dozen or so Indian women decked up in expensive looking silk saris and jewelry. I parked the car in between two others, and Yashodhara and I, taking a couple of plastic bags, walked to the front door.

"Happy Diwali!" a middle aged lady who was standing by the door greeted us.

"Happy Diwali to you too!" Yashodhara and I replied. And immediately, the air was filled with sounds of bursting fire crackers. When the sound subsided half a minute later, the lady said.

"Feels just like Diwali back home in India doesn't it, with this cacophony?"

"Sure does! I am surprised the neighbors haven't complained to the cops." I said.

"I was wondering about it too, but apparently, everyone who lives within an earshot is Indian and is at the party already."

"Is this your house?"

"No. In fact I am not even sure whose house this is. Anyway, go on in and mingle. It's a very informal party. I have to stay here and keep an eye on my kids."

We walked into the house, and the party seemed to be in full flow. There were groups of people standing around, drinking and eating and talking. The living area was pretty large, and there must have been 50 or so people over there.

"I wonder who the hosts are." Yashodhara said, surveying the scene around us.

"Do you know anyone?" I asked.

"That couple over there. I think I have seen them in the Indian grocery store. But I don't even know their names. How about you?"

"I see a guy I know from work. But not too well."

"Anyway, let's go to the kitchen and keep this stuff somewhere." Yashodhara said raising the plastic bags in her hand.

We headed to the kitchen where a handful of people were helping themselves to some food from the spread laid out. The flyer said this was a pot luck and BYOB party. We had brought a box of Bengali sweets and a dozen samosas, which Yashodhara placed on the table. A man smiled at us and immediately helped himself to a samosa. I headed to what seemed like a makeshift bar next to the fridge and deposited the bottles of wine and vodka that we had brought. I helped myself to a couple of plastic cups in the corner, poured two drinks of vodka and sprite, and handed one to my lovely wife Yashodhara. Soon a couple approached us and started making small talk.

Coming to this party had been Yashodhara's idea. During our last trip to the Indian grocery store, she spotted a flyer announcing this Diwali party. The flyer promised a fun party with lots of fireworks, lights, festivities, and so on. Yashodhara and I weren't really too tuned into the Indian community in town. We never went for these parties, and most of our friends were non-Indian. And if you know a bit about our past, starting with Yashodhara's dalliances with Ramon and other guys, our lifestyle hadn't exactly been appropriate to fit into the largely conservative Indian community. But it had now been almost 3 years that we were in the US. And we hadn't been able to make a single trip back home to India. So both Yashodhara and I occasionally felt longing for India and Indian people, never more so at Diwali. So when Yashodhara suggested we go to this party around Diwali, maybe met some new people, I agreed.

The party also gave us the rare chance to wear Indian clothes. I was dressed in a loose-fitting shervani myself. Yashodhara looked absolutely gorgeous in a green salwar kameez that brought out her lovely gray eyes. The kameez (which is a long top that comes down to the knees) fit her torso perfectly, snugly highlighting her boobs which had gone from C to a D cup in recent years. The neckline was also tantalizingly cut to give a glimpse of her cleavage where her mangalsutra was nestled. The dupatta (which is a long scarf worn around the neck) wrapped around her neck, along with the neckline of her kameez, formed an enticing milky white triangle of the skin around her cleavage. It had taken me a great deal of self-control to not make out with her right there. But this was an Indian party, and no one else seemed to be engaged in any PDA.

So like I said, we were talking to a couple. Soon the conversation split into Yashodhara and the wife discussing something related to shopping, and me and the husband talking about cricket. We were wringing our hands over the recent defeats of the Indian team when a couple of other guys joined in. Yashodhara and the other woman moved towards the table to get snacks, and soon, my wife and I found ourselves in different circles.

Half an hour later, I re-filled our glasses and scanned the living area to spot Yashodhara. She was busy talking to another couple. I handed her the glass and joined in on their conversation, when one of my newer friends pulled me away saying some guys were playing highlights of the cricket World Cup final in another room on a big screen. I excused myself and went with him, and sure enough, there was a large projector screen on which I saw Gautam Gambhir and MS Dhoni batting. Replays of this match, which India won to lift the title, were always great to watch and re-watch for any Indian cricket fan. We all watched, drank, and reminisced about the win.

The highlights and the ensuing discussion took another hour or so. By the time I got back to the living area, it was even more crowded than before, but with fewer kids. I suppose the party was only now getting started.

I walked around looking for Yashodhara and saw her in the kitchen, refilling her glass, and talking to a middle aged man. I stood about 25 feet away and observed what was happening. From the loopy grin on Yashodhara's face, it was clear that she was buzzed, if not something more. I could also sense that the man was probably flirting with her, and she was flirting back. Haha, I thought to myself, even at a Diwali party, my hot slutty wife was going to find out a way to hook up, huh? I thought it best to not disturb them, and went in the opposite direction, mingling with people and talking.

All around the living area, several card games had started. It is traditional to gamble on Diwali nights, and most people prefer to do it with cards. I joined in one game, and after being up about 200 dollars, cashed out. I walked around a little more and saw that Yashodhara was now drinking and talking to three men, including the one she had been flirting with earlier. She noticed me and gave me a smile. I winked and walked around some more, talking to other people.

A while later, I was flirting to Priya, a hot little grad student from the university who was here with her uncle and aunt. Priya was nicely buzzed, and telling me woefully about her break-up with her boyfriend. I sympathetically listened to her and made all the right noises. It was going very well, and I realized that I had a great chance getting into Priya's pants sometime real soon. I asked her if she wanted to go for a walk outside. She agreed. As we were walking towards the door, I scanned the living area to see if Yashodhara had spotted me. But I could not see her anywhere.

Priya and I walked out where there were now only a couple of kids setting off fireworks. We walked out of the yard to a largely dark street and started talking again. Priya was still talking about her break-up. The story itself was very standard. They were a couple back in India. Now she was here and he was in a university in California. The long distance relationship had been difficult to handle. At various points, I rubbed her on the shoulder and her arms to show sympathy.

Half an hour later, we were sitting on a bench in a small park. I decided to make my move and bent forward to kiss her gently. She seemed a little surprised, but not displeased. She kissed me back, tentatively at first, then enthusiastically. I started fondling her breasts over her clothes and she put her arm around me. A few moments later, I tried to unbutton her top, but she pushed my hand away.

"Not out here!" she whispered.

"My car is here. You want to go to my place?"

"I can't tonight. My uncle and aunt are at the party. In fact they must be wondering where I am right now." Priya said and got up.

"They won't miss you for too long."

"Oh you don't know them."

Then as if on cue, her cellphone rang. It was indeed her aunt, asking where the hell she was. Priya said she was out on a walk and would be back soon. They asked her to come back right away because they were heading home.

Priya kept apologizing for having to leave so soon. But she gave me her cellphone number and asked me to call her up sometime where, in her words, "we could pick up where we left off". I was disappointed at not being able to go all the way with her on the first night. But it was clear she was into me. So with promises to meet her again soon, I escorted her back to the house. Priya's uncle and aunt were waiting on the porch when we went back and they shot me a dirty look when we walked back. Priya politely introduced us and they only curtly nodded. Soon they were all in their car and on their way.

I walked back inside the house. It was now well past midnight. Most of the families with kids had left. This included most of the guys I had talked to that night. The ones that were around had put their kids to sleep on the couches and divans in the living area. There were still a couple of dozen people around, but I could not see Yashodhara anywhere. I assumed she was engaged in her own amorous activities somewhere and made a mental note to get a full update from her. I was left in a living room full of people I didn't know. I refilled my drink and ambled around, watching a couple of card games still in progress.

A while later, I felt the need to empty my bladder and headed to the bathroom. But it was occupied. And I really needed to go. I guessed such a large house must also have bathrooms upstairs so I walked up the stairs. Found the bathroom, relieved myself, and walked out. I was about to head downstairs when I noticed a door on the higher level, presumably to the attic, was ajar and there was a hubbub of voices coming from there. Curious, I walked up the stairs and entered the attic.

I walked into a thick crowd of guys, standing, drinking and talking in dim light. I hadn't met any of them before, so no one paid any attention to me. I walked along the edge of the crowd and I realized they were all gathered around a table. I elbowed my way around the crowd until I could see the table. Seated at it were about ten guys playing cards. From the cards laid out in the center, it seemed like Texas Hold 'Em poker.

And that's when I spotted Yashodhara, about 20 feet away from me. She was sitting on the lap of a card player whom I recognized as one of the middle aged men she had been talking to earlier. She had a drink in her hand, and from her half-closed eyes, I could see that she was now pretty drunk. The man had his arms around her and was holding the cards so she could see them.

He kept fidgeting occasionally and whispering something in Yashodhara's ear and whenever he did, it almost seemed like my wife would shiver. She had a dazed expression on her face, but she kept sipping her drink, which meant she was still aware of whatever was happening around her. I looked around the room to try and figure out what was happening. Sitting at the table were these ten guys with cards and chips in front of them. Around the table were 25 or so more men, all watching the card game and talking among themselves. Yashodhara was the only woman in the room.

The man whose lap Yashodhara was sitting on whispered something else in her ear, and she nodded, picked up a couple of chips from the stack in front of his and threw them in the pot. Three other guys said "call" and one by one threw chips in. It was time to show the cards. A young man seated about 10 feet away from me on the right said,

"Woohoo!! Full house beats two pair! I win! Hand her over!"

What happened next almost made me yell out in surprise. The guy reached down and unzipped his pants revealing an erect dick. No one else seemed to find this unusual. The man whose lap Yashodhara was sitting on said something and lifted her off his lap and got up. As that happened, even in the dim light, I figured out what was going on.

The man himself was spotting an erection, glistening with juices. As he had lifted Yashodhara off, I had noticed that the back of her kameez, which till then was bunched up around her waist, had fallen down, giving me and everyone else a glimpse of her naked ass for a split second. The man had been fucking Yashodhara as she sat on his lap. Suddenly, the fidgeting and the expression on her face made sense.

"Come on here, darling. I've been waiting for you all night!" the young man said and a few of the spectators laughed.

Yashodhara staggered towards him, putting her hands on the other chairs for support. She was quite drunk, and having trouble keeping her balance. As she walked, I noticed her milky white calves under the hemline of her kameez. She was not wearing her salwar. From the number of wet stains on the back of her kameez, I guessed this was not the first time she had been fucked.

As she reached the "winner", he turned her around and pulled her back on to his lap. He lifted the back of her kameez as he did so, once again, giving half the room a look at her perfect ass. Yashodhara grunted audibly as the dick was shoved into her cunt. It was not too big or anything, but was thicker than average. He put both his hands on her boobs and pulled her closer to him. And from this angle, I could see that he was fucking her at a healthy pace, driving his cock up and down her cunt.

The game continued, as did the fucking of my wife. I was spellbound watching the expression on Yashodhara's face. She was clearly enjoying being treated like a trophy fucktoy for this bunch of what were essentially strangers. The guys also looked very happy, having found such a hot slut so willing to do their bidding. But I was confused.

Why had they kept the kameez on, thus not exposing Yashodhara's awesome tits? They had not even unhooked it to expose it. Plus, she still had the dupatta around her neck. It made Yashodhara seem like two different entities above and below the waist. If you only saw her above the waist, like I had when she sat on the other guy's lap, everything seemed normal. Her kameez was still crisp and clean, her dupatta daintily wrapped around her neck, the mangalsutra still nestling in her cleavage. Below the waist, a totally different picture. The kameez kept her privates covered while she sat. But it was clear that her legs were naked, and there was cum oozing down them.

I later learned that they had kept the kameez and dupatta on precisely so at first glance, everything would appear normal. Most of the guys at the table were married, and in case one of their wives walked in, the appearance of normalcy, at least for a few seconds, would give them enough time to clear out and avoid a scene.

So Yashodhara kept getting fucked by the young guy, who was too distracted to focus on his cards and folded really soon. I then saw him put one hand under Yashodhara's hemline. Soon, she was moaning in delight. Loud enough for everyone in the room to stare at her.

"What the fuck are you doing?" An old guy, in his 60s, to his right said.

"Fingering her clit." he triumphantly answered.

"Knock it off. Don't do anything so obviously noticeable."

The young man frowned and took his hand out from under the kameez and Yashodhara's moans stopped. He focused on just fucking her and from the expressions on his face, it became clear exactly when he came inside my wife's cunt.

That hand was won by the old guy who had just rebuke the young guy.

"My turn!" he said.

And before the young guy could hand her off to him, he reached and grabbed the dupatta around Yashodhara's neck and pulled her towards him. She was yanked off the young guy's lap and the force with which she was pulled made her lose her footing and fall on the floor on her hands and knees. The guys all laughed as Yashodhara found herself on all fours, with the back of her kameez bunched up around her waist, giving half the room a great prolonged view of her naked ass and her sopping wet pussy.

"Come on, get up!" the old man said, giving her dupatta another yank. Yashodhara got up with some effort, and sat on his lap, the kameez falling down again to hide her nakedness. There seemed to be some problem though, because she and the old man kept fidgeting for a minute or so before they settled down.

As he started fucking her, Yashodhara grabbed the table tightly with both her hands and grimaced. Others noticed this too and said,

"What's happening?"

The old man just smiled and started singing,

"Gaand mein danda rey, gaand mein danda rey"

Everyone paused a second before bursting out into laughter. The line he had been singing meant "a stick up the ass". It all made sense now, from why it had taken him so long to enter her to why she had such an expression on her face. She was clearly being fucked in the ass.

For the next hour, Yashodhara kept getting passed around the table and fucked. Only a couple of other guys tried her ass, and most of them fucked her in her sweet little cunt. The lower half of her kameez was now very sticky and smeared with all the cum that had been shot up her cunt.

It was about 2 am when a guy at the door said,

"Some wives are coming!"

At this time, Yashodhara was on the lap of a fat bald guy. Thinking quickly, he slid Yashodhara off his dick, and pushed her to the floor.

"Under the table. Don't say anything!" he whispered and quickly zipped up his pants. Yashodhara nodded, and slowly crawled under her table, once more giving everyone a look at her perfect ass as she did so.

There was a knock on the door. Two middle aged women walked in.

"What's going on here? What's the smell?" One of the women said crinkling her nose at the musty smell of cum.

"Just playing cards." her husband, the old man who was the first to fuck Yashodhara in the ass, said.

"Let's go home. It's too late."

"Alright." he said and got up.

"You too!" The second woman said to her husband, seated on the other edge of the table.

"Hmmm?" he said with a blank expression on his face.

"Let's go!"

"Yeah yeah...in a minute." he said, whispering with some effort.

"Now!"

"Yeah, just a.....moment. You go ahead. I will down in a minute."

Something in his voice made me curious so I slid along the wall till I was close to him. And I saw what was happening. My evil minx of a wife was on her hands and knees, sucking his dick hungrily under the table. I suppressed a chuckle, wondering if this would be the end of the game. If that woman came over to her husband and saw this, all hell would break loose.

Luckily for him and everyone else, she said,

"Okay, I'll be downstairs. Come down soon."

As she left with the other couple, everyone in the room waited with baited breath. Once the door was closed and the footsteps grew faint, a bunch of us started laughing really hard. Yashodhara was still sucking the dick like her life depended on it and finally, the man started cumming. He shot his entire load in her mouth and my wife, true to form, swallowed it in a single gulp. The man, relieved, got up and zipped up his pants.