Indian Wife Enjoyed in Village

"Honey! Babe! Darling!" My wife Neetu looked at me with her beautiful big eyes wide open. Her face indicated she was serious. Even though we were now in bed, and the lamp was still turned on, and I could see a curious look in her eyes.

"Yes, dear?" I tried to smile.

"There's something bugging you." Neetu snuggled closer to me. "All day long I have noticed it. Now that Sahil is asleep, you can tell me what is on your mind."

She pressed her lips against my cheeks and then my lips, kissing me hard.

SMOOCH!

"Ah... nothing, darling." I lied. I knew I would have to talk about this sooner or later but right at that moment I didn't want to. Neetu, however, wasn't going to back down.

SMOOCH!

"There IS something." She said, kissing me again. My wife was now rubbing her whole body against me, and her left hand had already made its way inside my boxers. My nuts were now in her hands, her fingers deftly stroking my rapidly hardening manhood.

"My love! It's nothing really." I tried to reason, but Neetu wasn't listening. She was fumbling with my boxers and the small buttons, and suddenly my cock sprang free. Neetu expertly grasped my penis and started to stroke it.

"You are going to get a Neetu special today." Neetu grinned at me, while stroking my penis. "What every man wants. A blowjob from Neetu."

I could no longer hold myself. I was like putty in my wife's expert hands.

"My love ... I ..." I was mumbling. "There is a wedding ... my Tau's daughter ... my cousin Rashmika ... in the village ... end of December."

Neetu looked at me with a triumphant grin, and then expertly flicked my cock with her tongue.

"I thought so! Go on." She nodded, her voice in a commanding tone. She then put her tongue on my balls and slowly started to kiss them. I was in heaven. It has been a while since Neetu had given me a blowjob.

"My dear." I croaked, as Neetu opened her mouth wide and slowly started to take my cock in. "I know we have avoided going to our village in these last seven years, but ... my family ... is insisting ... we attend ... my ... cousin's ... wedding."

Neetu did not say anything. Her hands had wrapped around my hips, and one of her fingers went in my ass, as I drove my cock even deeper into her mouth. Her tongue was dancing on my shaft, and of course I knew could not hold out for long.

My wife Neetu knew exactly how to trigger me, and she also knew how I wanted a blowjob to end. As she continued to suck on my dick, one finger was in my asshole, while the other was expertly caressing my balls.

I surrendered to my sensations. As a man, and as the husband of a vivacious wife like Neetu, I wanted to last long, but Neetu gave me no chance. She mercilessly kept touching my balls with the tip of one finger, while the other played with my asshole, and her tongue and lips gnawed on my pecker.

"Oh dear." I muttered, as within two minutes my hips began to buckle, as I started to helplessly ejaculate inside my hungry wife's mouth. Neetu kept her finger firmly on my ass, her throat muscles working continuously as she swallowed my whole load, her nose almost brushing against my pubic hair. Finally, she pulled my cock out of her mouth and took a deep breath. She had a smile on her face, like the cat that ate the canary, and yet there was not a drop of cum on her lips. My slutty wife had not only made me cum within two minutes, but also swallowed every drop of my cum.

"Was that so hard, my love?" She asked as she licked her lips, and then kissed my penis. "Are you that worried about me reacting to having to finally go to your ancestral village, that you needed a blowjob to ... pardon the pun ... spill the beans?"

"Oh boy." I was still exhausted and catching my breath. I loved my wife. "That was ... wow. Thank you, babe."

"You don't need to thank me!" Neetu grinned and kissed my now gradually softening penis. "You are my husband. I love you. And I love this little dick of yours."

"Little dick". It had been sometime since she had used that phrase. Almost six and half years.

Almost as if she knew what this meant.

I looked at Neetu. She had a sly grin on her face, even as she gently touched my penis.

There was no other way to say it - my wife Neetu, despite her age, was still a beautiful curvaceous woman. Neetu had become pregnant when she was thirty-three, and now our son Sahil was six years old, and Neetu a forty-year-old woman. Yet, if you didn't know this, and ignored the two gray hairs she had, you would guess she was still in her thirties.

Neetu had put on a few pounds since her pregnancy, but it made her more alluring in my eyes. Yes, there was some love handles, but Neetu always wore her sari, showing her belly and her waist, which only made her love handles even more attractive. I just wanted to kiss and suck on her waist and tummy all day long.

Some of the weight had gone to her buttocks, making them slightly more protruding. Her sari always clung firmly to her ass, and I could not help myself but spank her on her plump buttocks every time she walked past me. She did pretend to be offended and always chastised me, but I knew she liked it.

As she did seven years ago when someone else did it to her all the time.

My wife's breasts seemed to have grown a size larger since she had become a mother, which gave her now a busty look. Neetu however still maintained a regular exercise regime, with morning yoga, and followed a proper diet. That meant that despite the increase in pounds and her buttocks, she still had a svelte vivacious figure with big breasts, and hips gradually widening leading to nice looking buttocks that jiggled with every step she took. She was the proper sexy Indian aunty that you would love to take to bed - what I call the "Mrs. Jenny Kakkar" look.

Of all the mothers who dropped their kids off to school in the morning, it was my wife who still managed to turn heads every time she walked. Every sway of her big ass and every bounce of her big jiggling boobs attracted hungry attention from desperate men eager to check out her svelte figure, even if she was fully clothed in a winter jacket. Fathers, teachers, janitors, drivers, engineers - they all lusted after Neetu. I have seen many a man involuntarily turning to ogle, almost by reflex, when my wife walked past them.

Even though ours was an arranged marriage, I only had one thought when I first saw Neetu - I wanted to fuck her. Even when she was a young woman, she had that "Oh Sir please do me now look". And now, as a forty-year-old woman and a mother, that look was only amplified. Every time I thought of my wife, I wanted to bang her.

And we fucked often. Neetu was a dutiful wife, and she treated it as her religious obligation to indulge me whenever I wanted sex. Just like now ... she went ahead with a blowjob. Which Indian wife would do this?

Sometimes I wondered what Neetu really thought of me now.

I was ten years older than her and had just celebrated my fiftieth birthday recently. I had a more pronounced pot belly than before, and my hair was gradually thinning. Sometimes when we went to restaurants, Neetu was often mistaken as my daughter, even though we are only ten years apart. I tried to do yoga with her, or stick to her diet, but found it tough.

I am what I am. Her fat, older, husband who loved every bit, every pound, of her.

As Neetu snuggled to me and we both laid back on the bed, she caressed my chest.

"My love." She spoke softly, her hand on my belly. "We always knew we had to return to that village one day. After all, how long can we make excuses?"

I knew she was right. When Sahil was born, it was understood we wouldn't go to the village because he was a young baby who could get sick. As he grew up, we made my work and the long distance an excuse, especially after we moved to Canada. But now it was winter holidays, with Christmas and New Year, and my office was closed for three weeks. Sahil was six years and healthy. It was pleasant weather in our South Indian village, not too hot or too cold, and there was no excuse for not attending the wedding of my cousin Rashmika, the daughter of my father's older brother. The whole family would be there, and as Rashmika's oldest cousin, I was expected to be there as well.

"Do you think he will be there?" Neetu asked me.

He could only be one man. The main reason we had avoided visiting our village for the last seven years.

* * *

Seven years ago, when we lived in India, we lived in a big two storey detached house in the suburbs. We had a manservant called Bhola who had been with us for more than three years, and he lived in his own room downstairs. Seven years ago, when Bhola was just a twenty-two-year-old lad, and he and my wife Neetu began a torrid and passionate steamy love affair that lasted for five months.

For those five months, almost every other night, my wife Neetu would make her way downstairs to our servant Bhola's room and ardently get bonked by him for almost two to three hours straight. And on most of those nights I would be there, unknown to my wife and her well hung lover, watching the two have sex, standing outside the house like a loser, peeping in through a small crack on Bhola's window. I would masturbate watching my own wife and my lowly servant make love. I should be mad at the situation, but watching my young wife service her well hung lover's cock was a huge turn on. I was taking care of my own cock while my high-class wife was taking care of a low-class man's cock ... several times.

I had to admit - Bhola was God's gift to women. In addition to my wife, he had successfully seduced and gone to bed with several other married women in our colony. When Mrs. Jyoti Gill's husband was in Dubai for one year, our servant Bhola was soon fucking the young and horny Mrs. Gill in the afternoons. When our neighbour Nausheen's husband had a stint in Kuwait, she too succumbed to Bhola's cock. In fact, Nausheen's son who was born sometime later was of a different complexion than both of his parents, and I suspect that Bhola was the true father. In all, from my knowledge, my servant Bhola had apparently seduced and fucked seven women in that colony.

My wife became the eighth, and the one with whom he had the longest affair, and the woman he fucked the greatest number of times. It was easy since he lived with us, and my wife was his Malkin, so he had easy access to her. He fucked Neetu in his own bed in his room, and then later in our kitchen, and then in the dining room, and on some rare occasions when I was away ... on our own marital bed. In fact, I think he had fucked my wife in every room in our house.

Bhola certainly had a talent - he was hung like a horse, he had incredible stamina, and he very much enjoyed fucking another man's wife, especially in her own house. It wasn't just his giant of a cock, but the fact that he knew what to do with it. Women, especially other men's wives, were like putty in his expert hands.

His sex sessions with my wife were wild, loud, passionate, and rough. He would play with Neetu the way a violinist plays with his instrument. He was insatiable, getting ready to go again merely ten minutes after ejaculating. By the time he was done, Neetu was a helpless wet mess, progressing from orgasm to orgasm, and desperately waiting for yet another fuck from the servant. In one night, he would fuck Neetu 5 or 6 times, regularly giving my wife 2-3 orgasms for each one he unloaded in Neetu's pussy or mouth. And many times, her ass. Neetu never liked getting fucked in the butt, but she had no restrictions with Bhola.

There was one thing, however, that was different about Bhola's affair with my wife, and all his other affairs with other wives.

Unknown to Bhola was the fact that Neetu and I had carefully planned this little affair of hers. Yes! My wife was cuckolding me with my full knowledge and permission. We needed a donor sperm to get my wife pregnant since my own swimmers weren't up to the task. I was dutifully handing my own wife over to another man to be impregnated.

This is why just past midnight, every other night, Neetu would freshen up, put on a fresh lingerie, fresh underwear, and then give me a kiss.

"I am off to get pregnant, darling." She would say, laughing a bit, before leaving the room. I would allow her a few minutes, before I too would sneak out. And then stand outside my servant's window, watching him completely ravage my hapless wife for the next couple of hours. In some ways it was pathetic of me; I was standing outside in a puddle of my own cum, watching a lowly servant use my wife as a sex toy to fulfill his deepest and most perverted sexual fantasies. And mine.

For those of you who had cuckold fantasies - and I was one - it can be surreal when your wife is finally having sex with another man. For me, it seemed to happen so fast. It seems like a minute ago Neetu and I were talking about a sperm donation the natural way and within a short amount of time, I am standing outside my house watching him confidently mounting my wife. The first time I watched as his manly cock entered her and Neetu began moaning to his virility is forever etched into my brain. Neetu never screamed like that with me, and I know she never will.

Bhola simply did whatever he wanted with my wife. Neetu would not say no. She was up for anything, so enamoured she was with him - and his cock. Bhola would regularly fuck her in the butt, and then Neetu even cleaned his cock with her mouth after he came in her ass! Bhola would even slap her, hard, on her face, making her cheeks red, and Neetu would let him and then show him the other cheek! By the end of their affair Bhola was slapping her quite often.

Despite the promise of being completely honest with me about her affair, Neetu kept certain things from me. For example, she never shared the fact with me that Bhola regularly slapped her, in fact, and slapped her hard.

Bhola would also spank her roughly on her fleshy buttocks, making them crimson red, and she would remain bent over, allowing him to spank her again and again. Bhola would call her names, like randi, slut, and others, and Neetu was up for it. Even this she never told me - of how he spanked her - but I have seen that she would let him do anything - anything - even share her with a friend of his.

One night, Bhola and his friend Bashir the guard basically used my wife like a sex toy. For over three hours, they took turns to roughly bonk my wife, cum in her mouth, or even double penetrate her. Whatever they wanted to do to Neetu, they did, and she let them completely have their way with her. She was their whore. So dominant were they that after they were done, they sent her back to bed completely naked, keeping her clothes as some sort of souvenirs. Neetu had to crawl upstairs to our bedroom fully in the nude.

That was the last time Bhola had fucked Neetu. Bhola and Neetu's affair lasted five months. The morning after, Neetu announced to me that she was pregnant. And then, of course, Neetu and I carried out the second part of our plan.

That very morning of the day we found out about Neetu's pregnancy, I immediately fired Bhola. I did not even give him a full day, but just a few hours, to get out of my house and return to the village. I did give him three months extra salary, and Bhola departed that very same day. He had no knowledge that Neetu had stopped taking birth control pills and was now carrying his child.

Neetu moved in temporarily with my mother-in-law Neelam, and she was there for the first trimester. In the meantime, I sold off our house and bought another place close to my office. I worked mostly from home, but on the days that I had to get to work, the commute was now much better. This also allowed us to cut ties from our old colony, and any women who may also have had affairs with Bhola. It also stopped us from seeing Bashir the guard. As for our former neighbors, we hardly kept in touch.

Neetu and I were now fully devoted parents to be. When Sahil was born nine months later, we had pretty much forgotten Bhola, Bashir and the whole saga. The one thing we didn't want to do was return for any visit to our ancestral village.

You see, Bhola was from my village. In fact, his family was distantly related to ours. It was my mother who had first asked me if I could employ Bhola, when he was just 19 years of age, since his family had lost everything due to a flood, and whatever income Bhola could send back home would help them. It was perfect timing - we also needed a servant, and I told my mother I can employ Bhola for a year. He could live with us.

That one year became two years, and then three - and then Bhola and Neetu had their affair. Soon after Neetu's pregnancy and our move, I got a job in Ottawa, Canada, and it was too good of an offer to refuse. Sahil was one year old when we immigrated to Canada from India.

I was on work permit for a year, and then we applied to become permanent residents of Canada. Just last year we all took our citizenship oath - we were now Canadians.

Ever since we had moved to Canada, we had somehow managed to avoid returning to our village, since there was a chance, we could run into Bhola. Whenever we visited India from Canada, we always stayed in Chennai, and I booked some hotels or resorts where my parents, or Neetu's mother, could join us. I also had the grandparents come over to Ottawa to spend time with their grandson on long visit visas. Thus, there wasn't any pressure on us to visit our ancestral village.

However now there was a wedding, and the whole family (my side) would be there. We simply had no excuse to avoid the visit.

"Do you think he will be there?" Neetu repeated. I took a deep breath.

"He will probably be there." I reasoned. "He is family, however distant, and on weddings you invite all the relatives, especially the poor ones. Bhola's parents are too old to travel, but I am sure Tauji will invite Bhola and his younger brother Bunty."

"Bhola has a brother?"

"Yes. Bunty must be what ... like ... 23 now. And Bhola must be ... 29. Or thirty."

"Hmm." Neetu didn't say anything much. I am sure she was thinking about what had happened seven years ago between her and Bhola.

"Why did you wait this long to tell me?" Neetu finally asked. "I mean, it's already November, and our December holidays start in a month. Tickets will be expensive now."

"I know." I admitted. "I was trying to think of an excuse, or something. But today Papa called me and said Tauji would mind terribly if we didn't come."

"Hmm." Neetu once again snuggled close to me and kissed my neck, while slowly shutting her eyes and relaxing. "I guess we can go. It's been nearly seven years after all. Is it because of Bhola that you were hesitating?"

"Yes." I was honest. "Do I want to run into the man who had wild animal sex with my own wife in every room of my own house for five months? Not really."

Neetu laughed and stroked my chest again. Her hands then went towards my manhood.

"You are getting hard just thinking about it, my love." She stated.

"If we do run into him, what will you do?" I asked, ignoring her statement and the truth it contained. "I am sure he must ... I mean I would ... he must want to pick things up ... from where they had ended. Will you again sleep with him?"

"Hmm ... darling. How crude you are!" Neetu answered lazily, fingering my balls. "Do you have any faith in your wife, babe? I am not some whore of Baylon. As you yourself admitted, I was getting the fucking of my life every night. I gave that ALL up so I can have a kid and family, with YOU."

"I know, my love." I kissed my wife. That much was true.

"Then again ..." Neetu naughtily continued. "If you think Sahil now deserves a brother or a sister, I could cuckold you again ..."

I kissed my wife on her lips. I don't know why I did that then. Suddenly the talk was too erotic, and I felt I had to kiss her.

"My dear wife." I told Neetu. "You know I love you so much."

My wife, somewhat surprised with my sudden declaration of love, kissed me back.

"Yes, my love." She replied, and then added, "So ... do you we should try for a second kid? After all, Bhola may be there ... and I know you would love being a cuckold again. You ... with your little penis!"

We fucked again.

It was a wild, passionate, steamy fuck that left us breathless at the end. There was also no doubt as to why we fucked. All though the sex Neetu was teasing me about doing it with Bhola. Again.

Later, as my wife drifted off slowly to sleep in my arms, I remained awake. I was trying to think of what exactly could happen in case we ran into my wife's old lover. Would Bhola want to renew their affair? After all, he was of the servant class and my wife was a memsaab. There was every chance he would look to fuck my wife again. As I said, if I was him, I would.

And what about Neetu? Would my wife actually want to rekindle their passionate affair, again? That time she needed to get pregnant, but what excuse would she give if she wanted to go to bed again with him?

If you think Sahil now deserves a brother or a sister, I could cuckold you again ...

In my mind, there was no doubt that Neetu would want to fuck him again. Yes, my wife did love me and my family, but she would not be able to resist a holiday fling with Bhola. He had that kind of pull on her. She would justify to herself, and to me, that it was just sex, and I was OK with it before.

So, more importantly, did I want that to happen? As I shut my eyes, I had to honestly admit to myself - I didn't know. Did I want to be a cuckold, again?

It scared me. I realized I had to take control of the situation, otherwise a scandal could backfire spectacularly on us. After all, my whole extended family would be there.

I made a mental note to make some calls to India in the morning.

I snuggled against Neetu and hugged her tightly. We had about a week left for our India trip, and most of the packing (and some of the shopping) had already been done. Our accommodations in the village hadn't been fixed yet, but I wasn't too worried. Some last-minute adjustment would be made by my cousin Manav, the bride Rashmika's brother. I had already spoken to him on the phone - he was the main organizer and planner of the wedding. If we couldn't stay in the main complex where others were staying, we could stay in some hut nearby rented from a villager in the village. Our son Sahil was very excited of course, and so were we. Going on a holiday, especially halfway around the world, is always thrilling.

My tongue found my wife's lips and we kissed deeply, exploring each other's mouths with passion. Neetu moved her arms around my back, and slowly, gingerly, caressed my behind, cupping one of my butt cheeks.

"Oh, my love!" She moaned, as I started to slide against her body, slowly going down on her. I knew she loved that.

My face came to her breasts, as I licked each nipple and sucked on them gently. She pushed my head down further as I inserted my tongue into her navel and covered her tummy with kisses.

"Oh, baby." Neetu crooned as I pulled down her panties, stripping my wife completely naked. "You just know how to get me going!"

"I am making you ready for India." I grinned, as I rubbed my face against her inner thighs.

"Oh, my love." Neetu moaned. "What you are doing to me now ... I will follow you anywhere."

My wife's pubic hair hit my nostrils as my tongue flicked out. She hadn't shaved for some time, I realized, and her bush was quite thick now. This was unlike Neetu, who would shave regularly. Still, I didn't care. I now started to lick her clitoris, something that I knew was guaranteed to push her off the edge.

"Oh ... my ... Gods." Neetu was mumbling now, her body rubbing against mine as she writhed with pleasure. "O Siva! Babe!"

My face was now between into her thighs, and Neetu was gushing like a waterfall. I knew she couldn't hold out for long. Each lashing of my tongue provoked further moans of ecstasy and secretions of her love juice. Soon my face was glistening with her dampness. I kept inserting my tongue into the folds of her vulva and swirling it around her love hole. With a final shriek, Neetu started to cum.

"OH MY GOD! O SIVA! OH YES! OH YES!" Gripping my head in a vice-lock with her thighs, and holding my ears firmly in her hands, Neetu bobbed up and down in the throes of her orgasm. Finally, after oozing out huge amounts of wetness, she subsided. She also let go of my ears, which by now were stinging.

"Wow." She remarked, finally catching her breath. "Wow ... just like a ... wow."

"You are the wow." I told her. "So beautiful. So elegant."

Neetu laughed at my corny joke and beckoned me for a kiss. I slow crept up her body. My wife cupped my wet face in her hands and kissed me, despite her own slime on my lips. We French-kissed deeply, rolling our tongues into each other's mouth. Neetu reached down with one hand and grabbed hold of my rigid shaft. Slowly, sensuously, she started to stroke me.

"Ready to put your little dick into use, darling?" She asked me, with a coy smile.

"Yes, my dear."

Again, that term. It's been almost seven she had used the term 'little dick', I thought. And now she was using it everyday. It was almost as if she was preparing me for being a cuckold.

"When we go to India, my love." As if reading my mind, Neetu brought up the topic, as she continued to stroke me, "We will meet Bhola. The man who had made you a cuckold. Seven years ago."

There was no mistaking the sudden twitch in my cock as Neetu recounted the incident of her affair.

"Er ... yes, my love." I replied. "I know."

"He will want to fuck me ... your wife." Neetu gently mouthed the words as she blew a kiss towards my dick. Her hand maintained a firm hold on my hardness.

"I ... guess ..." I mumbled, as I started to get more and more aroused. "Which man who meets you does not want to fuck you, my love?"

"But Bhola is special." Neetu grinned, as she continued to stroke me. "This slutty wife of yours has already been unfaithful to you with him, and I don't think I can say no if he comes on to me again. He will want to make me his slut, and I ... will be ... his slut."

"I ... guess ..." I mumbled again. There was something definitive in the way she said it.

"He goes so far inside me, my love, that I can hardly feel you afterwards." Neetu continued to tease me. "He refers to you as a 'cuck' when he is fucking me. He shoots his seed deep inside me. He makes me feel like doing things with him I could never do with you. Oh, your little dick is getting hard again thinking of me and Bhola! You are enjoying this!"

"Um ... not really ..." I tried to lie. "Do you really need to sleep with him again, my love?"

"Yes. Unlike you, Bhola can fuck me several times in one night. I just cum so much more with him." Neetu continued to tease me, as she nibbled at my ear while stroking me. "Our last affair was very exciting for him too, of course. He was your servant, but still he was using your wife as a fuck toy and a cum dump. His own malkin!"

"Oh, my love." I couldn't contain myself anymore. I climbed onto her, and with one push I had plunged my hardness into her. I was by now so aroused by our talk, that I knew I wouldn't last long, nor did I try to. A couple of strokes and I exploded in my wife. Neetu casually stroked and caressed my buttocks as I emptied my cum into her. She was smiling - she knew now that I was vulnerable, and I found the notion of her dalliance with Bhola arousing. If Neetu really wanted to sleep with Bhola, she now knew that she was going to get her wish.

Finally, as I was catching my breath, we both lay on our back, Neetu resting her head on my shoulders, with the smell of cum everywhere in the room. I then got the courage to ask my wife the question. A question to which I already knew the answer.

"Will you sleep with him, babe, if he comes on to you?" I asked. "Assuming we run into Bhola, of course."

Neetu didn't immediately reply.

"My darling," She finally said, her hand caressing my chest. "I don't know. I really don't ... but ... I am pretty sure I would."

It was an honest answer.

"Is he really that good?" I asked, even though I knew the answer. "So that you will be unfaithful to me? Again?"

Neetu sighed.

"Sweetie, there is no easy way to say this." She began. "He is by far the best man I have ever been with in bed. There is simply no comparison between you and him, babe ... and I say this gently. You are good ... but he ... Bhola makes me cum so many times in one night. His stamina is just amazing. He keeps on going ... and ... you know. A girl likes that kind of thing."

"Hmm." I mumbled. "I guess."

"His cock!" Neetu continued. "My love ... you don't know how big he is! You are not even ... I would say ... one third his size!"

"Yes, you told me before."

"Does it bother you?" Neetu questioned me. "Please be honest. About me and Bhola."

"I would be lying if I said it didn't." I gave her my honest reply. "After all, you are my wife. I expect you to be faithful to me. And here you are ... my wife ... talking about sleeping with this low-class servant of a man. Cuckolding me - your loyal husband."

Neetu raised herself and kissed me. Her lips pressed against mine, and we kissed for a long time.

"Darling." She finally commented. "When I was rubbing you, right now, talking about this ... you were very aroused. You cannot deny it. Even ... seven years ago ... when this all happened ... you loved the idea of being a cuckold."

I sighed.

"I know, my love." I admitted. "But that time ... we wanted a child."

"That was just an excuse, my dear." Neetu grinned. "You know you love being a cuckold. Right now ... just the thought of another man cumming in my pussy was enough to make you cum."

"Yes, but ... we were trying to get you pregnant." I helplessly repeated. "We needed a child."

"We can have another child now also." Neetu insisted. "After all, it is not just sex. I want to be a mother, again. If ... and I am saying if ... things come to pass, and we meet Bhola, and there is an opportunity, can you not give me a hall pass? Just for this vacation? Sometimes your wife just needs a good hard pounding. That's what these servants are for. Please, my love. I am forty. I may not get the chance to be a mother again."

My wife then kissed my cheek.

"Darling," Neetu said. "I know why you find it arousing. As your wife, I understand why you didn't mind being a cuckold for me seven years ago. Even as I was trying to get pregnant."

"Really? Um ... why, my love?"

"The arousal of me being with another man ... due to your failure in impregnating me ... can be hot." Neetu explained. "So now, I am just asking you - let us both enjoy. I get to enjoy some proper sex, and you can ... enjoy ... being a cuckold. Again. Just for this vacation. After we return to Canada, I am all yours. Again. And I may be a mother one more time!"

I knew I couldn't deny her request. I had to remind myself that it was just sex, and I should be happy Neetu was being honest with me.

"Yes, my love." I agreed. "But my whole family will be there. I will depend on you ... to be discreet ... again."

Neetu smiled like the cat who had just swallowed the cream.

"Thank you, my love! Some husbands will just talk and fantasize but not you. You walk the walk, my love. And I love you for it."

"Just ... for this holiday." I repeated. "And ... you have to be discreet."

"Yes, yes." Neetu nodded. "And, my sweet love, as a cuckold husband you should realize it will just be sex. Nothing else. I love you, my love. But ... about being discreet ..."

"Yes, my love?"

"We will have to find a way ... you must help me ... unless you want everyone to hear me moaning as I bounce around on his cock!"

We fucked again. The situation and our conversation were just too hot. This time I came even quicker. And this time there was no doubt that I found it arousing, and Neetu was GOING to do it with Bhola.

As we snuggled and slowly drifted to sleep, I knew we were playing with fire. After all, Neetu would be a woman possessed once she had a taste of Bhola's cock. The last time, seven years ago, she was supposed to sleep with him only a few times - just to get pregnant. Neetu used birth control pills and dragged out the affair for five months. This also she never told me about; I had found out by chance. And just like the other things she had kept from me; I also never confronted her about this.

Sometimes I wonder if there are other things Neetu had kept from me that I don't know about.

One thing was clear.

After seven years, Neetu was now once more lusting after Bhola's cock, and she wasn't going to exercise proper judgement once we were in India. As such, I couldn't really depend on her being discreet. I am sure if Bhola wanted to fuck her in the open field in the centre of the village in front of everyone, she would say yes. It was up to me - I had to ensure somehow ... my second time being a cuckold ... that too in my family's ancestral village with everyone being present ... went on smoothly.

... you must help me ... unless you want everyone to hear me moaning as I bounce around on his cock ...

Maybe it would be a great idea if we stayed somewhere apart from the rest of the family after all.

* * *

Manav, my cousin Rashmika's younger brother, came to pick us up from the Chennai airport. He had someone else with him, a man who looked to be about 65 - so fifteen years older than me.

"This is Sabbir anna." Manav introduced the older man. "He in in our village council, and he also had some work in Chennai, so he came with me to pick you all up."

"Sabbir anna!" I shook hands with him. "Thank you for taking the trouble."

"No trouble at all!" Sabbir replied. "After all, your family, especially Manav's father, and yours ... both are such big benefactors to our village! The donations they made for our temple last year!"

We were now in a van, travelling on a 4-hour trip from Chennai to our village. It had been long journey, to say the least.

From Ottawa we had taken a short flight to Toronto. And then after 3 hours in the airport, it was 14 hours to Dubai. And then another 5-hour layover, and then a 5-hour flight to Chennai. And now, after all this time, another 4 hours before we reached our village. It was tiring, and Sahil was cranky. Right now, he was sleeping in Neetu's arms, who was a bit cranky herself.

"We almost thought you guys weren't going to come to India." Manav said. As the bride's younger brother, in addition to being the chief planner and organizer, he was also the one in charge of running all the errands. Such as picking NRI folks up from the airport 4 hours away.

"After all," Sabbir continued, "You never seem to want to come to India, let alone the village."

"True, but we couldn't miss Rashmika's wedding." I replied. "And coming here to India from Canada is not cheap! I am seeing you, Manav, after what ... four years!"

"Yes." Manav smiled. He was younger to me by about ten years. Manav had been an errant and mischievous boy growing up, but now he was a responsible family man, managing Tau's business and looking after all their property.

"How's your wife Sheila?" Neetu asked. "And your kids ... you have two, right?"

"Kids are well, Bhabhi." Manav replied. "Yes, I have two. And Sheila is well too."

Here I should mention that all my younger cousins called my wife Bhabhi, even though in our mother tongue we called the wife of an older brother Anni. This was out of respect for Neetu's culture, where the term 'Bhabhi' was used. Moreover, even though Manav and Neetu are the same age, he calls her 'Bhabhi' out of deference since I am older than him.

"However, Sheila is not going to come here until two days before the actual wedding ceremony itself, Bhabhi." Manav continued. "Actually, she may not come at all. Her mother - my mother-in-law - is not doing well, so Sheila and the kids are still in Chennai, looking after her."

"Tell me, Manav." I was curious. "Why is Rashmika getting married in our ancestral village, and not in Chennai, where you guys live?"

"Papa wanted a traditional wedding for his only daughter." Manav answered. "Full of traditional customs and culture. He wanted everyone in the extended family, rich or poor, to be part of it, rather than our elite circle back in Chennai. Rashmika seems to agree."

"I see. So, it's a large wedding, with hundreds of guests."

"Yes, but don't you worry about it. Tonight, once we reach the village, you relax." Manav told me. "You probably will be suffering from jet leg anyways. You are the last folks to come. And pretty much the last NRI folks to confirm."

"The village hasn't seen a wedding like this in years." Sabbir remarked. "A full-fledged Tamil wedding, with all the functions, with lots of people, and guests!"

"What days are the functions?" Neetu asked from the backseat, stifling a yawn. "And how many are there?"

"Bhabhi, tomorrow night is the Nichayathartham, or the engagement." Manav answered. "We will have the pooja worship ceremony at a Ganesh temple, and then there will be food at the community centre in the village."

"So, we basically have one night to get rid of our jet lag." I yawned. "I could fall asleep right now."

"You should stay up." Neetu advised from the backseat, while stifling another yawn of her own. "We need to struggle somehow till the night, then we can sleep. That way our internal body clock will be in sync with local time."

"Maybe." I yawned again. "Manav, what are the ceremonies again?"

"Well, the day after tomorrow is the bamboo pole ceremony, or the Pandha Kaal Nadudhal." Manav grinned. "This is where both families plant a decorated bamboo pole outside their house, signifying an upcoming marriage ceremony."

"Wow, Tauji is going full out on tradition." I marvelled. "I mean, who does that nowadays! We never did. No one I know did."

"Rashmika seems to love all of this." Manav shrugged. "Then we will have four days till the Gauri Puja - the other prayer ceremony. But that's only on our side since we are the bride's side. And then, two days later, the Haldi ceremony."

"Neetu." Sabbir asked my wife. "Do you know about all these Tamil customs?"

"Yes, anna." Neetu replied. "I know the Gauri Puja was devoted to the goddess Parvati. She is believed to be the sign of purity and every South Indian Hindu bride wants a blessing from her."

"Yes." Sabbir nodded. "There will also be some elaborate customs with rice husks, as rice is also the symbol of prosperity and fertility for us."

"When is the Haldi?" I asked. Manav told me the date.

The Haldi ceremony was usually performed a couple of days or so before the actual wedding, when yellow turmeric paste was applied to the skin of the bride and groom. Each occasion had songs and dances performed by relatives.

"Sahil will have an eye opening about our traditional customs." Even Neetu was amazed at the length my uncle was going for his daughter's wedding. "In our wedding we skipped straight to the Haldi and then Sangeet, before the actual wedding."

"Well, ours wasn't a strict South Indian wedding." I reminded my wife. "I mean, we had your customs also. And both of us wanted a small wedding, unlike Rashmika."

"I don't even think I brought that many dresses, Manav!" Neetu complained. "I will look like an old hag, repeating the same sari!"

"Bhabhi!" Manav grinned. "If all old hags looked like you, this world would be a better place!"

Neetu laughed, as did I. Wisely, Sabbir kept quiet.

"See ..." Neetu poked me from the back. "This is how you compliment your wife. Not like you ... making corny jokes ... 'you look like a wow' and all that."

I ignored my wife's good-natured ribbing then turned back to Manav. "How many more festivities, Manav?"

"All that I said - that's just the first week, and now we are on to the day of the wedding." Manav laughed again. "On the morning of the wedding, we have the Mangal Snaanam, or the purification bath. Some of the village elderly ladies will apply some special oil and turmeric on Rashmika and give her a bath. This is ladies only thing. Of course, then in the afternoon will be the wedding ceremony at the main temple of the village."

This was the highlight - the actual wedding, and of course why we were here. The wedding would be a festive one, a grand one, with over a thousand attendees, many of them poor villagers and relatives. There would be the Kashi yatra (where the groom departs for the temple to get married), the garland exchange, and finally the Kanyadanam. The Kanyadanam is where the bride will be seated on the lap of the father and dedicated to goddess Laxmi and Lord Vishnu. The bride symbolizes the goddess and the new groom the god Vishnu. As the daughter is seated on the father's lap, the father offers her as a sacrifice to the god - her new husband. The priest will recite some verses and pour milk and holy water on Rashmika's hands and onto her father, my Tauji.

Many modern women did this part differently - after all thinking of yourself as a sacrifice to a god had some issues - but I knew my Tauji was a traditional man, and his daughter wasn't the one to raise a fuss.

So far everything is technically pre-wedding. After all this, the groom then ties the Mangal Sutra, or a necklace symbolizing their wedding, and this means the wedding is now final. This is the wedding moment in our culture. The final act of the wedding would be the Saptapadi, or the vows around the holy fire.

All of this would have taken us to the ninth day of our stay in the village. Two days after the wedding would be a dinner hosted by the groom's side. Coincidentally, the date for that function would be December 31st. The last day of the year, and the last function for Rashmika's wedding.

The next day many people would depart, including us. We had a small three-day holiday planned in Goa, before returning to Canada.

"Bhabhi." Manav cast me a look and then addressed my wife, while keeping an eye on the road. "We had some trouble arranging accommodations of everyone - there are so many guests. And especially because you guys confirmed at the last minute."

"Oh?" Neetu didn't say much, waiting for Manav to continue. "And where are you putting this old hag and her husband?"

"As you know, there is one main big building we have - the zamindar residence." Manav said. "It has thirty rooms for the guests, and I put most of our guests there. All rooms have air conditioning, as well as geezers and private bathrooms. Gopal's parents are there in one of the rooms. I was thinking your son Sahil can stay there with his grandparents. I have already talked to them, and they are fine with it."

"But why?" Neetu was puzzled. "Why can't Sahil stay with us?"

Manav once again shared a look with me before continuing.

"I had to put you two in a villager's hut." Manav's tone was apologetic. "Father rented out some huts from the villagers for the other guests. Actually, Sabbir anna helped us get those huts."

"Each hut has two bedrooms," Sabbir stated. "And one common bathroom and a small kitchenette. No air-conditioning, and you must heat the water in the kitchenette and take to the bathroom for hot water for your bath. And the toilet is Indian style, not Western."

"Oh." Neetu's mind was racing. "And we have to stay like this for how many days?"

"I am so sorry, Bhabhi." Manav again apologized. "It was so late when you confirmed. Usually, all our ... well ... NRI guests were already settled in the zamindar residence. And we were lucky we found some villagers who had huts to rent out. These people would be going somewhere else, so they were glad to rent out their own homes to us. These are very basic living conditions, so Sahil is better off with his grandparents. And you will be staying there for the whole trip."

"I see, I see." Neetu nodded. I knew she would understand; she knows village life is not one of comfort, but I knew she was hoping we could have been accommodated in the zamindar residence. "After four days I am sure I will come and give you some tight slaps, Manav! An Indian style toilet! I have to squat! After so many years!"

"I am so sorry, Bhabhi." Manav again apologized. "On the flip side, you will have more time to yourselves. These huts are a bit away from everyone, so more privacy."

"Speaking of privacy," Neetu sighed. "You mentioned these huts have two rooms. So, we will be sharing our space with someone else?"

"Yes." Manav smiled. "In fact, you know the person you will be sharing your hut with."

As we both waited, Manav gave us the name.

"It will be your old servant, Bhola, and later on, his brother." Manav said. "I thought it would be good for you. They can take care of you and serve you and make things easy for you. Heat the water for the bath, keep the toilet clean, and so on."

The look on my wife's face was priceless. We couldn't talk in front of Manav, but I bet she was thinking the same thing.

What were the chances? We avoid Bhola for all these years, and now we will be sharing the same hut for two weeks!

What she didn't know was that I had known about this arrangement all along. When I had talked to Manav, I only asked him not to tell Neetu until we were in India, and never to let slip the fact that I knew.

Moreover, it had been my idea that the extra room be given to Bhola and his brother, something that Manav agreed to as well. After all, it solved an accommodation issue for him, and gave us a servant for our stay.

What I didn't realize at that moment was that this would leave to Neetu spending most of her time in his bedroom, used like a whore and thrown around the bed like a rag doll, before being sent back to my bed, her innards full of another man's cum.

It was just after dinner when we finally made our way back to our hut. We had dropped off Sahil at the zamindar residence and then dropped off our luggage in our hut. Bhola was there, waiting for us.

He hadn't changed much. He was just entering his thirties, though his face was more tanned and had a weather-beaten look. He had become even more muscular, if that was possible.

"Sahib! Memsaab! How nice to see you all again!" He kept on saying, as he touched my feet with respect. "It will be my pleasure to be of service to you, again! After all these years!"

Sure! I remembered how he had serviced my wife all those years ago!

"When Manav sahib asked me to stay here, I told him I will be happy to help look after you both!" Bhola was beaming. "I never thought I would see you again, sahib. And you, memsaab."

"We are also happy to meet you again, Bhola." I replied drily.

After some pleasantries, I asked Bhola what he had been up to.

"I was in Dubai for a bit, sahib!" Bhola answered.

His eyes, even while talking to me, could not help glance at Neetu every other second. He was openly ogling my wife even as he talked to us. "And I also worked with one of your former neighbours ... Mrs. Gill ... if you remember."

"I guess so." I was unpacking and getting ready for a bath. "She was the Punjabi lady in ... what ... 37B?"

"Yes, sahib." Bhola nodded. He then turned to Neetu.

"Memsaab, you have become even more beautiful than what I remember." He openly praised her lavishly in my presence. "Sahib is indeed a lucky man."

"Oh Bhola." Neetu tried to shrug it off. "You need to get your eyes checked! I am an old hag now."

"You have a very beautiful and welcoming smile, memsaab." Bhola continued. "I always thought it was one of your best characteristics. Shows the goodness of your heart."

"You are too much, Bhola." Neetu grinned. "I am now fat. And big."

"Oh no!" Bhola insisted. "You are still the beautiful young memsaab I remember!"

Even as he made my wife blush, Bhola turned back to me.

"Sahib, I have just boiled some hot water for the bucket. If you or memsaab want to take a quick bath." He then added, "If you find the water too cold, let me know. I am here to help you, sahib."

He was being nice, but for some reason I detected a smirk in his voice. Almost as if he was telling me, "Hey cuckold. Try not to be too humiliated when your wife starts screaming out my name in ecstasy."

I shook my head. I was imagining things, of course.

"I will go first." I announced. "Bhola, you can boil some more water for your memsaab."

I went in the bathroom and shut the door. It was a steel door with a latch. However, there was no shower in the bathroom, just a bucket of cold water and a bucket of hot water. You had a mug; you mixed the two and took a bath.

"Memsaab, it's been so long." I heard Bhola tell my wife outside, even as I poured water over myself. "Seven years?"

"Yes, Bhola." I heard Neetu reply cautiously.

"I thought about you all those years, memsaab." Bhola continued. "Our time together was special, wasn't it, memsaab?"

"Yes, it was, Bhola." My wife agreed. "But that was seven years ago. I am a mother now."

"I heard." Bhola replied. "Somehow ... I always thought ... I would be the one ... making you a mother, memsaab."

Poor Bhola! If only he knew!

"I ... your sahib ... we ..." I heard Neetu stammer, even though we had this speech prepared. "We went to the USA ... Bhola. He got ... some treatment. Thankfully, now we have Sahil."

"Yes, memsaab." Bhola said. "But ... perhaps ... do you think ... it is time ... your son ... would need some siblings?"

It was hot. It was outrageous. It was bold. He was hitting on my wife, propositioning her, and I was in the bathroom with just a wall and a door between us, taking a bath.

"I ... Bhola." Neetu replied nervously. "What we had, Bhola, it was a good memory. I always cherish those days."

"Memsaab. You have now become even more beautiful. I simply cannot stop looking at you! And oh ... your boobs!"

"Bhola." Neetu gave another nervous laugh. "We are staying here for two weeks. You can't be saying those things to me. Please, my husband is here."

"We will talk when he is not here, memsaab." Bhola replied boldly. "Tonight, come to my room. Just like old times. I will do more than just talk about your boobs. You know what I can do to you, memsaab."

"Bhola, please." My wife pleaded. "Not now. My husband is right here."

"Your husband is a little dicked cuck, memsaab." Bhola stated. "The only cock that should go inside you ... is mine ... and my friends ... memsaab. And you know it. Yet, seven years ago, memsaab ... you disappeared so suddenly. I couldn't even give you a proper good-bye fuck!"

"Bhola ... please."

"This time, I am fully prepared, memsaab." Bhola declared. "Your last night with us is Dec 31, the last night of the year. Me, and my friends, will be prepared. We will make it a night to remember for you, memsaab."

He was coming along very strong. I thought it was time I put a stop to their banter.

"Neetu," I called out loudly, "I am done. Get ready."

When Neetu was done her bath, and we both put on some fresh attire, we then went back to the zamindar residence. It was more fun time ... to meet more relatives and engage in more revelry. I met Sabbir there, and a few other important men from the village council, as well as some of their underlings. My Tauji was well connected.

Neetu and I finished our dinner there, met even more relatives, and now, barely able to stand on our feet, we were back in our hut. I was asleep within two minutes of hitting the bed.

What I didn't know at that time was that my currently running seven-year-old streak of being Neetu's only man in bed was about to come to an end. There was a reason Bhola came on too strong. He knew what Neetu liked in him. Wanted from him.

I should have known. As Bhola greeted us back, the look in my wife's eyes should have alerted me to the fact that she was about to cuckold me.

Again.

* * *

It must have been sometime around two or three in the morning when my eyes opened. You know how jet leg is, you become wide awake at weird hours of the night.

As I turned around, I realized Neetu wasn't beside me!

Slowly my senses cleared, and I became fully awake, and I also became aware of conversation happening outside the room, from the common area. The hut had two bedrooms beside each other, and a small common lavatory. There was a common area with one dining table and a kitchenette, along with a few chairs. Very simple village living.

Neetu was talking with someone there.

It was Bhola. It must be Bhola. I thought I recognized his voice. I knew if I got up and walked over to the door, I could hear properly. Or I could just go out and make my way there. But somehow, for some reason, I remained on the bed, lying there.

After about ten minutes, I heard the creak of the chair. Both Neetu and Bhola must have stood up. I heard some more talk, and then silence.

And then I heard some rustling sound. What was happening?

SMOOCH!

She was actually kissing him! They were kissing! My wife, the mother of our son, and our former servant. They were kissing!

I could not believe it!

I heard more voices, and then a door being shut.

Neetu had actually gone in with Bhola to his room!

"Oh, Bhola!" I heard Neetu murmur. "How I missed you!"

SMOOCH!

I sighed. I knew it could happen, I knew it would happen, but to actually have it happen on our very first night back in the village itself! How easy it had been for Neetu to simply give in!

I was now in our bedroom, on the bed, alone. The small fan whirred noisily, blowing hot air through the room. I was lying on the bed, my hand in my boxers, my cock hard and erect, and reaching upward, my heart racing fast as I strained my ears to listen to the noises emanating from the next room.

Creak! Squeak!

There was a noise as my wife and Bhola got into bed. No doubt, he was busy stripping Neetu of her clothes, while taking his own off, as fast as he could.

"Oh, your boobs, memsaab." I heard him mutter. "I had forgotten how perfect they were. Now they are even bigger!"

He was already handling her boobs! He had picked off right where they had left seven years ago, exactly as I knew he would.

Creak! Squeak!

"They have become bigger after my pregnancy." Neetu replied, somewhat shyly. "Oh, Bhola! You know ... you know ... just what to do! Even my husband loves my breasts ... but you ... the way you touch ..."

SMOOCH!

SMOOCH!

"I missed you so badly, Bhola."

"Boobs like this aren't meant for your husband, memsaab. He is a little dicked cuck."

"Oh, Bhola."

The sounds of rapid kissing came through the walls. For some time, there was no other sound, no words, as the long-parted lovers kissed each other passionately upon reuniting again after seven years.

SMOOCH!

SMOOCH!

"You know how to kiss me so nicely, Bhola." My wife was murmuring. She seemed to be having a small orgasm already. Soon I knew she was going to get her brains fucked out.

The noises were loud now, and very audible. I just hoped they didn't go beyond the hut. A village night could be a very quiet one, and loud noises tended to carry far. It will be a big scandal if anyone found out what was happening in that room at this instant.

Creak! Squeak!

Creak! Squeak!

There it was! After so many years ... here was this noise once again! The noise of the bed squeaking as another man ... penetrated ... my own wife.

My dear wife! My own sweet Neetu! Jealousy and arousal, the deadly combination, was once more a familiar feeling as I listened to the sounds of my wife's latest extramarital affair.

"Oh, Bhola!" Neetu moaned. "Oh, my dear Bhola. How I have missed you all these years! Oh, how deep you go inside me!"

Creak! Squeak!

Creak! Squeak!

The unabashed sounds of my wife's excited and sometimes frantic voice coming from the adjacent room through the thin walls indicated that she had now taken her lover's large cock inside her.

"Oh Bhola!" Neetu moaned. "You are so deep inside me."

A familiar sense of warm humiliation came over me as I heard my wife moan, even as the squeaking of the bed springs became more and more frequent.

Creak! Squeak!

Creak! Squeak!

Creak! Squeak!

"After seven years ... aren't you glad you are once again getting fucked by a real man?" Bhola taunted my wife, even as he had his pecker buried deep inside her. "How does it feel, memsaab? Whose cock do you like better, memsaab? Mine, or your husband's?"

"Oh, Bhola, there is no competition!" Neetu grunted. "You make me feel so good. I am so glad I ... I ... cuckolded my husband years ago ... with you!"

"I have some plans for you memsaab this time." Bhola ominously told my wife as he continued to fuck her. "We will make up for lost time, my dear slut! As soon as Manav sahib told me I was sharing the hut with you, I made those plans, my dear memsaab!"

Creak! Squeak!

Creak! Squeak!

The rhythmic creaking of the bed frame added to my humiliation, indicating to me that my wife Neetu was again being haplessly penetrated by Bhola, and from her moans and murmurs I could make out that she was now having an orgasm.

"Oh Bhola! Oh, BHOLA!"

Neetu's voice got louder and more excited, and then stopped for a few minutes. I heard some rustling on the bed.

"Memsaab, get ready."

SLAP!

The noise was sharp, but not too loud. Bhola had struck my wife across her face, but not too hard. He slapped her again, as he liked to do.

SLAP!

It was déjà vu. He was slapping my wife, just like old times. A lowly servant man was slapping my wife, and she was just letting him, and I was helpless to do anything. He was probably fucking my wife bareback, and I couldn't do anything either. He now slapped my wife harder.

SLAP!

SLAP!

SLAP!

SLAP!

After giving my wife a few tight slaps, Bhola then resumed the fucking as he continued to plough into my wife.

Creak! Squeak!

Creak! Squeak!

He was humping her fast now as Neetu gamely hung on.

"Ungh! Ungh! Oh Bhola!" My wife was moaning louder and louder now. "Cum in me, Bhola! Please! I beg you!"

Creak! Squeak!

The bed continued to creak as Bhola continued to bang her, even as my wife began yet another orgasm.

"Aaah! Aaaaah! Oh YES! OH FUCK! Aaaaah!"

Neetu kept grunting. The bedsprings were squeaking furiously as she received Bhola's thrusts. The bed was now hitting the wall hard, and the springs sounded as if they were going to break.

Creak! Squeak!

Creak! Squeak!

"Memsaab." Suddenly Bhola spoke. "I am going to cum. I am going to make you pregnant. Again."

SMOOCH!

I heard my wife loudly and sloppily plant some kisses on our servant.

There was silence. I reasoned that Bhola was now cumming inside my wife. Again, I wondered if he wore a condom - probably not. He was balls deep inside my wife, ejaculating into her womb. I wondered where in the menstrual cycle Neetu was.

If you think Sahil now deserves a brother or a sister, I could cuckold you again ...

Neetu was now silent, letting out the occasional grunt as Bhola flexed his buttocks from time to time, pumping more and more of his seed inside her. I then heard her kiss our servant again.

SMOOCH!

"Oh, Bhola. Oh, my love." Neetu was moaning, even as Bhola continued to pump his semen into her. "I love you. Oh, that was amazing. Even after all these years, no one fucks me like you do."

"Wait until your holiday is over, memsaab." Bhola laughed. "I will make sure you forget about your husband's little dick ... forever! What a cuckold! Sleeping in the next room blissfully while I fuck his slut wife here on my bed! Oh, I am going to enjoy these two weeks with you, my randi!"

"Oh Bhola!" My wife moaned. "I love you! I love you ... so ... so much!"

Neetu did not immediately return to our room. My jet lag meant I was now wide awake, and it was a long night.

Three more times over the next two hours, I waited patiently on the bed while hearing my dear wife's yells of passionate struggle and pleasure. The sounds of one orgasm blended into the next. Oh, how I wish I was the one whose cock was inside her, holding Neetu tightly as she squirmed under me! But I wasn't the one with my cock inside Neetu. It was Bhola, and who could blame him! For so long Neetu had enjoyed romantic sex with me. Now Bhola was giving her the rough sex that she really craved for.

Despite her age and being a mother and all the extra weight, my wife Neetu was still one spunky lady, and anyone who could fuck her was a lucky man. For so long I was the only man with that luck. Now Bhola was with her, and no doubt this villager was fucking my high-class Canadian wife senseless by now, taking full enjoyment from my wife's body.

I did not know when I fell asleep again, my own cum soiling my boxers. Neetu was still not back when I had gone back to dreamland. I had to wonder if I would get to fuck my own wife during this vacation. It was déjà vu. Another man was cumming inside my wife. I was cumming on my hand.

The next morning I woke up late - around 11 am. My sleep cycle was all messed up. I got up and looked beside me. Neetu wasn't there.

Suddenly the door to our room opened, and my wife walked in.

She looked divine. She had just taken a shower, and her hair was still wet, and wrapped in a towel, and she was trying to rub and dry the hair. She was wearing a blouse and a petticoat, with her tummy and waist bare and exposed.

"Good morning sleepyhead." She smiled at me, still fluffing her hair with the tower. "Or should I say, good afternoon, my love."

"If you greet me like that," I said, taking in the sight of my sexy wife, "Every day is a good morning!"

"Oh, you!" Neetu laughed. "You need to get up and take a shower. Hurry up, because your mother just called. We must go to the zamindar residence - they still have breakfast waiting for us. Soon it will be time for lunch!"

"Oh, ok." I got up and stretched. Grabbing my toothbrush, I headed to the toilet. As I walked by Neetu, I gave her a firm squeeze on her waist, pinching her love handles.

"Ouch!" Neetu yelped. "What's gotten into you, babe?"

"Are you not wearing the sari, my love?" I asked. "After all, Bhola could be outside. And here you are, dressed in just a petticoat and blouse."

"He is outside, my dear husband," Neetu grinned and turned around and blew me a kiss. "And don't forget, he has seen a lot more of your wife than this."

"Well, still ..." I tried to insist.

"Oh ... one more thing." Neetu gave me a mischievous smile. "He had me. Already. Last night. He fucked me ... um ... actually ... um ... several times."

I looked at her, pretending to be shocked, and my jaw dropping. Of course, I knew what she had done last night, but here she was, shamelessly admitting it. At least she was an honest slut. Neetu walked towards me and stroked my crotch.

"You are hard." She stated. "Being a cuckold turns you on, my love."

I cast my eyes down, humiliated and ashamed. She was right, of course.

"My pussy is going to belong to him this vacation, my love." My wife grinned, as she continued to stroke me. "Wow ... you are getting harder. I guess you want me to go to bed again with him? Be his slut?"

I remained standing there, unable to say a word.

"I can't wait for tonight." Neetu grinned, as she caressed my manhood. "I can do things to him ... I love the feeling of being used by him. He is just so different from you. He was fucking me right next door, and you were sleeping in this room ... oh it felt so naughty ... and it was so good! Oh, my goodness! You are rock hard, babe!"

There was no denying it. I was fully aroused.

"Does it turn you on?" Neetu grinned. "To think of all the things I did with him."

"Err ..." I had nothing to say.

"My love." Neetu kissed my cheek, while still rubbing me. "Go and take the shower. We will talk about this later. Try not to be too humiliated tonight as he fucks me again."

It was so cruel; she had fired me up and now was leaving me with some blue balls.

"Yes, my dear."

As I stepped out of the room, I knew I would have to meet (and talk with) Bhola. I heard him whistling in the small kitchen. He turned around when he heard the door close to our room.

"Sahib! Good morning!" Bhola greeted me as soon as he saw me. "I already boiled some water and put it in the bucket, so the water is hot and ready for your bath."

"Thank you, Bhola." I replied.

My emotions and feelings were confused as I talked with him, now with the knowledge that this man had actually (again) fucked my wife all night. He must have emptied his cum into her pussy at least three times last night, giving her orgasm after orgasm as I laid in my bed, rubbing my own cock. My wife still had that dreamy well fucked look on her face. And Bhola? He had a smile that seemed to be fixed on him for the rest of the day.

"How long were you in Dubai, Bhola?" I asked him.

"Almost immediately after I left your employment, sahib," Bhola told me. "I was in Dubai for around three years. It was very hot, sahib, I had to work outside in the fields. And I lived in the labour camp, sahib. Outside the city. All men."

"So, no women?" I grinned, as I gathered my materials for my bath. "Must have been a boring three years for you, Bhola."

Bhola gave me a strange look.

"Well, sahib. I needed the money." He remarked. "But eventually I returned to India ... and then I worked at Mrs. Gill's for some time."

So Bhola had gone back to Mrs. Gill. I wondered what sort of "work" he did for her.

"And then I was in Kolkata for some time." Bhola continued. "And now back in our village, resting for a bit. I have some money saved ... and you know Manav sahib ... he gave me some money too. His family is very generous, sahib. They helped my younger brother with his studies too. Sabbir anna, and some other villagers, they also helped when I was in Dubai, looking after my family here."

"So now that you are back in the village, what are you planning to do?" I asked, and then almost added, "Besides my wife, that is."

"I am thinking of opening a shop here." Bhola answered. "Maybe a small convenience store ... or a dhaba."

"Good for you, Bhola." I told him. "I am glad you are making something of your life, despite your lack of education."

"Manav sahib's family is very generous, but it is also due to you and memsaab, sahib." Bhola said. "You both took care of me when I needed, right after the flood. And your wife - memsaab - also showed so much love and affection towards me. It is she who gave me the confidence. She always encouraged me to achieve more that what I thought was possible."

"No, it is your hard work, Bhola." I replied. "We can only help so much."

"Sahib, it is you and the kindness of memsaab." Bhola insisted. "She took such good care of me. I was a young man when I started working at your place, and memsaab treated me like family. I never felt like a servant in your house. She showed me great love, an openness, and gave me confidence."

Was it my imagination or did Bhola have a smug look of arrogance as he made small talk with me, especially when he talked about Neetu? Maybe he was showing me up - he was telling my indirectly that my wife was his and he was her man, and I could do nothing about it. Or maybe I was reading too much into his smile.

I quickly ended the conversation and entered the bathroom to take the shower.

Bhola had made his intentions clear. He intended to fuck my wife every night, and Neetu was up for it. He also planned for some friends of his to fuck her, all in that room next door. I just had to plan it properly, so it was discreet. That meant going to bed early and staying there the whole night. This way my wife's adultery could be restricted to our hut, and no one would find out.

After the shower, I found Bhola had already left. He was needed at the main house for servant duties. I went to my room to get ready; we had to go there as well for breakfast. As I got ready, I asked my wife to recount what happened last night.

"Do you really want to know, babe?" Neetu asked. "Isn't it enough to know he just ... had ... me? Why must I torture you further with the details of how your servant banged your wife? It makes me feel ... cheap."

"I need to know." I asserted. "We ... are ... doing things that are risky. Once again. There must be complete openness ... between us."

"Very well." Neetu wasn't convinced, but she knew when not to argue. Another good quality of her. She was a good wife, even if she was slutty.

"I had gotten up last night to pee." She began her story. "I don't remember the exact time ... maybe 1 or 1.30 in the morning. After urinating ... and it was a long pee ... oh my goodness ... I decided to go to the kitchen and see if there is something to eat. I walked out and saw Bhola. He had also gotten up and was getting a glass of water."

Neetu sat on the edge of the bed, clasped her hands together and continued.

"Bhola insisted on making me tea. He also made a cup for himself. I had freshened up by then, so we both sat there, having our tea, and just talking. We were reminiscing, of course, of old times."

"What exactly did you talk about, when you say, 'old times'?" I asked, somewhat drily.

"Well, idhar udhar ki baate, you know. Yada yada yada." My wife gave me a look and sighed. "And yes, we did talk about sex. I mean, I had to tell him I missed him. He asked about Sahil. I was very careful ... I told him you had a treatment in USA and Sahil was our child - me and yours."

So Bhola was once again enquiring about Sahil, I realized. Maybe he was putting two and two together. What did he tell Neetu last night?

I am going to cum. I am going to make you pregnant. Again.

"Did you tell him you were on birth control when you were having an affair with him?" I asked Neetu. That was another thing she was supposed to tell Bhola.

"Yes, I did." Neetu nodded. "I told Bhola that I was on birth control when I was with him. Then he asked me if I was on birth control now."

My eyes narrowed. "And what did you say?"

"That's when ... when I looked at the clock, I realized a whole hour had gone by." Neetu replied. "So, I didn't really answer him. I wanted to go back to bed and try to sleep again, so I stood up. This is when Bhola asked me if he could give me a kiss, for old time's sake."

"He wanted to kiss you?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes, he asked if he could kiss me." Neetu repeated. "I thought for a bit, and said, why not. After all, I thought he just wanted to give me a peck on the cheek. I was surprised when he hugged me tight and pressed his lips against mine. I didn't say anything, because after all he did ask my permission. As he kissed me, his hands moved all over my back, before finally resting on my buttocks."

Of course, her buttocks.

"Some kiss." I muttered, but Neetu ignored me.

"He told me, 'Memsaab'." She continued. "He was squeezing my butt cheeks as he said, 'Memsaab, your buttocks have grown a little bigger. You have put on a little weight, but it looks good on you.' I blushed and didn't know what to say. He kept on kissing me and I responded. I couldn't help it - he's a great kisser. My tongue was in his mouth when I felt him unbutton my blouse from the back. I then immediately froze and asked him to stop."

"Did he?" I asked.

"He did, but only just. 'Memsaab, please.' He was pleading." Neetu answered. "He praised my breasts, saying 'You have the most perfect breasts I remember. Now they seem to be bigger; I must see them!' I didn't know what to do, so I let him do what he wanted as he kissed me again and he took off my blouse. And he was kissing and sucking me just under my chin. You know how much I like it. Before I knew it, my bra was on the floor and I was there, standing, breasts out. He was playing with my tits and making me moan."

"What happened then?" I asked. My wife gave a shrug.

"He took my hand." She replied. "We both knew what was going to happen, so none of us said anything. He took me to his room and closed the door. We hugged and kissed again, and this time my hand was inside his pajamas, playing with his penis, squeezing and stroking it. He was hard and erect. As he kissed me, I couldn't help but murmur, 'Oh Bhola! How I missed you!' He knew, of course."

Neetu paused. Her breathing was becoming rapid now. It was clear that even recounting last night's incidents was turning her on.

"He kept on praising my boobs." She said. "He would say, 'Oh, your boobs, memsaab. I had forgotten how perfect they were. Now they are even bigger!' We were soon naked, both of us, and got into bed. He was pressing and squeezing and kissing me all over. He just knew what to do. I think I was having my first ... or second ... orgasm by then. And he kept praising me! My beautiful tits! And you know how I love his compliments ... and so ... then we ... made ... love. He had me. He took me. Completely. Fully."

"If you have sex with anyone who compliments you ..." I remarked drily.

"Oh, honey!" Neetu rolled her eyes. "You know it's not like that. It's Bhola. And ... he was good. As before. I ... I really didn't know ... how to stop. We just had sex ... and it was very good. He made ... cum ... so many times, and he just kept going. Still ... he has that stamina of old! I don't remember how many times he fucked me last night!"

Neetu carefully omitted how Bhola had called me a "little dicked cuck". She also omitted, as she used to always, the fact that Bhola slapped her.

"Did you make him wear a condom?" I asked. Neetu shook her head.

"No, my love." She admitted. "I ... I wanted to ... feel him inside me. And ... I know I asked you for a one-time fling hall pass ... but this will be every night, my love. I want his sperm. I want him to fill me up. You know ... we decided ... maybe it's time ... Sahil had a younger sibling ... maybe ..."

When did WE decide that?

Her voice trailed off. I glanced at my watch.

"We better get going." I commented, still in a huff. "Or we will miss breakfast."

"Ah, my cuckold is jealous." Neetu teased me. "Don't worry, my love. It's only a couple of weeks. Try to go to bed early, my darling. That way ... you don't have to listen to another man fuck your wife ... all night long!"

* * *

It was three nights later.

Sometime around 3 or 3.30 am, I woke up. I was in my bed. I turned around to see that Neetu was no longer beside me. I got up. It was pitch dark, but slowly my eyes got used to the darkness. I glanced towards the side table.

In the drawer of the side table, I knew there was a capsule there. It was a capsule of sleeping pills. Bhola had given them to Neetu. She was supposed to feed me one in my evening cup of tea every day. That way, every night, I would have a sound sleep and would not be a bother to whatever Bhola was planning to do with Neetu.

Of course, Neetu had laughingly told all this to me. Since I was, in her words, a "willing cuckold", I didn't need the pills.

"Honey, just make sure you stay in the room and don't bother us, ok?" She had instructed me. I had nodded understandingly. I did not want to 'bother' her at all.

Right now, curiosity got the better of me. Not heeding my wife's instructions, I gently, very quietly, opened the door to our room and got out into the common hallway. Bhola's room's door was not fully closed also, and I could hear the noises coming from there. I walked over, very quietly, to his door.

This was our fourth night in the village.

The day after the first night, the festivities of Nichayathartham, or the engagement, had been a blast. Everyone had a great time. We spent the day with Sahil and my little boy was enjoying the colours and the sounds and the food. The small temple for the prayer ceremony was close by, and afterwards there was dinner and a small music session.

The Pandha Kaal Nadudhal or the bamboo pole ceremony had gone well also. Now we had two days till Gauri Pooja, and then another two days for the Haldi. We were really enjoying the vacation - especially on the days when there were no events. All of us cousins went out exploring the village, having fun swimming at the pond, or by the river side, and of course the food was great, as always.

Neetu was always a bit tired, of course, yawning from time to time.

"What's the matter, Bhabhi?" Manav asked once. "Are you still suffering from jet lag?"

"Oh yes." Neetu gave me a look and then answered Manav. "This time it's really bad."

"Hmm." Another of our older cousins, Sita, suddenly gave us a look and burst into a grin. "Or maybe Gopal is ... bothering ... her a little bit too much at night."

"What are you saying!" I blushed bright red, as did Neetu, and my other cousins teased us even more.

"Oh, come on." Sita laughed. "Your son is at your parents, you two have the hut to yourselves, far from us ..."

"So that's why when I put them in the hut, they didn't complaint too much!" Even Manav joined in the fun. "Smart couple!"

"You are funny." I tried to shrug it off, even as others laughed. Neetu was blushing a deep crimson red. My wife always blushed easily.

Of course, Sita was right.

Someone was "bothering" my wife at night, but it wasn't me.

Right now, it was pitch dark outside, but I stood outside the door to Bhola's room, which was slightly ajar. I could have stayed in my room and listened over there - the walls were quite thin, but I wanted to hear better. The last two nights my wife and Bhola had made love rather quietly, which was unusual for Neetu, but I had a feeling tonight she was going to be a bit more vocal.

"Memsaab." I had heard Bhola comment to my wife earlier in the day when I was in the bathroom. "Tonight, I am going to tear up your ass. Gaand phatunga randi teri."

"Oh, Bhola!" Neetu had just giggled. "Make sure you have lots of oil!"

Just the fact that right now she was there with another man in the room was making me as hard as steel. I had to come to grips with myself - another man was fucking my wife, perhaps in the ass, and that was making me hard. I mean, in a way, one can argue it was a healthy marriage - I was allowing my wife to explore her sexual fantasies in an open, honest, and loving relationship. Then again, would you let your wife be used by another man like this? Each time they kissed I felt I was shredding a bit of my manhood.

Soon I heard the quite rumple of the blankets and some whispered voices and giggles from Neetu. It was clear that Bhola and my wife were in the early stages of sex. Bhola was playing with my wife's boobs while Neetu was stroking his huge cock.

"Oh, memsaab!" I heard Bhola moan.

I heard a few slurping noises from Neetu.

"That's good, memsaab!" Bhola grunted. "Suck it deep, my slut!"

"I want to kneel here and suck your cock forever, Bhola."

It was clear that my wife was giving him a blowjob. The Neetu special. Bhola must have been standing up beside the bed, and my wife on the floor on her knees, and he was face fucking her. I could only listen as Bhola reached places in my wife's throat I could never get to.

"Mmm." I heard a sharp sound as Bhola must have taken his cock out of my wife's lips. "Get ready, slut."

I waited to see what would happen next, although I had an idea.

SLAP!

SLAP!

SLAP!

SLAP!

Bhola slapped my wife, harshly, quite a few times, not all respecting her status as his memsaab.

"Alright, phoohad besalika, get on the bed!" Bhola ordered her roughly.

"Yes, Bhola."

As my naked wife lay on the bed, Bhola placed a hand on her pussy.

"You are wet, memsaab." Bhola stated. My wife could say nothing, but I knew she must have been blushing with shame.

"And your pussy hair is not shaved." Bhola declared. "Why, memsaab?"

"I ... er ..." I could hear Neetu nervously stutter. "I kept it like this so you can shave it, Bhola!"

"You are such a slut, memsaab!" Bhola laughed. "Keeping your pussy unshaved just so this lowly servant can shave it!"

"Just like old times, Bhola!"

Old times? When had Bhola shaved Neetu's pussy before? I must have missed it. Another secret Neetu had kept from me.

SLAP!

It was a hard slap, and the sound was like that of a pistol going off.

"Remember when I had to talk you into letting me slap you, memsaab?" Bhola taunted my wife, as he slapped her again.

SLAP!

"Er ... yes, Bhola."

SLAP!

"And you were so hesitant before, memsaab!"

SLAP!

"I remember, Bhola. I am so sorry, Bhola."

SLAP!

"I told you that you would like it. And now you do like it, memsaab."

SLAP!

"Yes, I do, Bhola."

SLAP!

"Why, memsaab? Why do you like being slapped by me?"

SLAP!

SLAP!

"Er ... because I am a slut, Bhola. I am YOUR slut. Please slap me again."

SLAP!

SLAP!

"And now," Bhola told her after giving her a good final slap, "I want to fuck my slut. You are slut because you are a married woman, and your useless husband is sleeping in the next room, and here you are ... spreading your legs for your lowly servant!"

I could hear the bed creaking as they changed positions, and then a low moan from Neetu as Bhola obviously penetrated her. He must have mounted my wife, and was thrusting slowly, his entire body probably resting on top of her.

Creak! Squeak!

Creak! Squeak!

There was that sound again as the bed then began to creak in a slow rhythm, with continual gasps and moans from Neetu. A sound that reminded me that another man was fucking my wife, steps away from where I stood, unable to stop him.

My wife was moaning softly now, Bhola's constant humping having the desired effect. Again, I didn't know how long they had been fucking till this point, but from the noises I could tell Neetu was already showing signs of orgasm. I recognized my wife's moans, which were far more intense than anything I could ever hope to elicit from her.

Their fucking began to get faster and the sound of flesh slapping against flesh and the continued refrain from the bed filled the room.

"Oh, yes! O Siva! Oh Yes!" Neetu screamed loudly.

I knew what was going to happen next. Bhola didn't like it when Neetu was a little loud.

SLAP!

SLAP!

SLAP!

As expected, Bhola's slaps had the opposite effect, making Neetu even more aroused.

"Oh YES! OH YES! OH GOD! O SIVA! BHOLA!"

Neetu began to moan loudly as she reached her climax.

Creak! Squeak!

Creak! Squeak!

By now, these were familiar sounds to me.

The sound of the springs and the squeaking of the bed. The moaning of my wife. The headboard banging against the wall as Bhola and Neetu made love passionately.

"OH BHOLA!" Neetu screamed loudly. "That was so ... fucking ... good! OH BHOLA!"

After a bit, things then began to quieten down for a moment. Neetu's orgasm must have been intense.

"You should record a video of us having sex." Bhola teased her, as he continued to play with her boobs. "And then show it to your husband."

"Oh, Bhola." Neetu giggled. "Why would I do that?"

"Well, first ..." Bhola continued. "He should know his is a cuckold. And second, sahib should understand just how inferior he is in bed. The moment he sees you, memsaab, having a body shaking orgasm with my cock in your wet pussy, he will understand his place in your marriage. He is arrogant man, your husband."

"Oh, Bhola."

SMOOCH!

Rather than counter him, my wife kissed her lover on the lips.

SMOOCH!

They were now kissing each other. And kissing passionately.

"Memsaab." Bhola told my wife. "I would love for your husband to know he is a cuckold. You need to stop letting him fuck you often. All he needs to do is watch you cum on a superior man's cock to understand why he doesn't get to fuck you as frequently as he used to."

"Oh, Bhola."

SMOOCH!

Once again, rather than come to my defence, my wife continued to kiss Bhola.

SMOOCH!

"Memsaab." I heard Bhola say in between the kisses. "Do you know about the ritual of Attai-Niyoga?"

"Er ... no ... Bhola." My innocent Neetu replied. "Attai-Niyoga! What is that?"

"In our culture, when a young virgin man is about to get married, some older, experienced woman takes this young man to her bed." Bhola answered. "She teaches him how to pleasure a woman, so he is not inexperienced on his wedding night. This ritual is the Attai-Niyoga."

"I never heard of this custom, Bhola!" Neetu was astonished. "So ... some older woman has sex with the ... the ... groom ... to teach him ... how to make love?"

SLAP!

Bhola slapped Neetu again.

SLAP!

"You make it sound so crude, memsaab." He complained, slapping my wife again. "The older woman is doing a solemn religious duty. Not ... just ... having sex."

SLAP!

"I am sorry, Bhola." Neetu's tone was apologetic, even as Bhola slapped her again. "Please forgive me. But I am unfamiliar with this ritual."

SMOOCH!

"It is an ancient custom." I heard Bhola insist, as he kissed her again on the lips. "Attai-Niyoga was usually done by an older aunt of the boy, usually the older uncle's wife - hence the term Attai. Nowadays ... of course ... like all ancient Vedic customs ... we have become too modern ... and too prudish ... for it."

SMOOCH!

SMOOCH!

I heard them loudly kissing again, and it was clear that Bhola was now preparing my wife for round two.

"Why did you bring up this custom ... this Attai-Niyoga ... Bhola?" My wife asked, in between of having her tongue sucked by her lover.

"I will tell you, memsaab." Bhola answered. "You would be the perfect woman to do this. I have a young man in mind, and you will be the woman to do Attai-Niyoga with him. Yes ... you are the Bhabhi ... or as we say in our language ... the Anni ... and not the aunt. But that's fine. What is more important is that you are my slut and you do as I say."

"Oh, Bhola. I am YOUR slut." My wife declared. "If you want me to be this ... Attai ... I will."

"You don't even know who this young man is that I want you to sleep with!" Bhola laughed. "And you are ready for the Attai-Niyoga ritual!"

"I will sleep with whoever you tell me to, Bhola." My wife replied. "I am your slut."

"Good!" I practically heard Bhola grin, if that was possible. "But right now, memsaab, I feel like slapping my slut ... for being so slutty. Please show me your cheeks, memsaab."

"Er ... yes, Bhola. Please slap me. I am your slut."

SLAP!

Bhola showed no hesitation as he slapped my wife hard, again and again.

SLAP!

SLAP!

"You are such a slut, memsaab! Now let's change positions."

I could hear them moving about on the bed, changing positions this time. From the initial sounds I guessed they had been fucking in the missionary position, but now it seemed Bhola wanted to do my wife from behind. As he had promised her this morning.

There was some more rustling, and then I heard Bhola grunt again.

"Bend over the bed, memsaab." He ordered. "Get ready to be fucked in the ass."

"Bhola, please put on more of the oil." I heard my wife instruct her lover. "And remember to be gentle. I am not used to such a big cock for years, Bhola."

"You are a slut, memsaab." Bhola laughed cruelly. "Sluts don't deserve mercy. Especially one that left me so suddenly seven years ago. You will pay for that, memsaab."

With that it sounded like Bhola just pushed himself straight up my wife, ignoring her pleas to 'go easy' and he was 'too big'. I felt a little sorry for Neetu now, being ass fucked by such a huge cock, but my sympathy was short lived as I heard them pick up speed again as Bhola rammed himself into Neetu.

"Please be gentle, na!" I heard Neetu beg Bhola, who paid her no heed.

SPANK!

Their fucking was then punctuated by more sounds as Bhola began to spank Neetu.

SPANK!

SPANK!

"I had forgotten what a nice butt you have, memsaab." Bhola told my wife. "You should be spanked all day, every day!"

"Please, Bhola!" Neetu begged. "Be gentle!"

SPANK!

SPANK!

The spanks sounded hard and Bhola was spanking her and fucking her ass at the same time. He ignored my wife's pleas for mercy and continued to ram hard into her.

"Ok, slut!" He grunted. "I am going to cum."

"Er ... yes, Bhola."

SPANK!

SPANK!

SPANK!

SPANK!

Poor Neetu! Her ass fucking ended with a flurry of sharp spanks and a satisfied groan as Bhola pumped load after load of cum deep inside my wife. I could hear them both breathing hard from their exertions, and then a long groan from Neetu as Bhola must have pulled out followed by another sharp spank.

SPANK!

"What a good fuck you are, memsaab!" Bhola laughed. "But ... slut ... I think it's time you cleaned up and went back to your useless cuckold of a husband. What an idiot. Sleeping next door, dosed on pills, while I fuck his slut wife."

"Yes, Bhola." Neetu replied, and then added, "I will miss you when we return to Canada, Bhola. Oh Bhola ... I can't even stand straight ... after you fuck me like this!"

I quickly went back to my own room. It was clear that my wife and her lover were done for the night. He had just thrust his load down her ass. Tonight, I hoped my wife would allow me to also cum inside one of her holes.

"How was it?" I asked Neetu, once we were in bed and she was snuggling against me. We spoke softly, as I knew that the voices would carry.

"Good, as always. But ... he is a getting bit rougher with me." Neetu admitted, also in a whisper. "I like it, though."

"Ha! I can tell. You seem to have a glow on you, dear."

"I want to get more naughty with him, babe. He told me about his friends ... two or three of his friends also wants to fuck me ... and I must let them fuck me, Bhola said." Neetu confessed. "It will be just like that Bashir night. I may be your wife this holiday, my love, but I am also Bhola's slutty fuck toy. Him and his friends'."

"Hmm."

"If only you can see his cock, my love." Neetu was blabbering on. "You will know what he has that you don't. He is always reminding me of that fact."

"I see." We kissed deeply. "I love you, Neetu. What else does he say?"

"He also taunts you slightly, babe."

"Really?" I pretended to be disinterested, even though I knew what she was talking about. "Only slightly?"

"Yes," Neetu nodded, her hands finding their way to my shorts and inside. "Well ... he keeps telling me, 'My penis can reach parts your husband's never been.' And it's true, of course. When he drives his dick deep into me, I do mean deep. You have never been penetrated me so far inside and I have to brace myself as Bhola lunges in and out."

"You seem to like it." I commented drily, even as Neetu started to stroke me. "The sounds carry, you know."

Neetu blushed.

"Did you listen to him as he fucked me my love?" She asked, as her fingers slowly caressed my balls. "He just knows what to do to me. His hands are playing with my breasts, taking each one and squeezing and pinching my nipples, and his tongue is everywhere, licking and kissing, and his thrusts make me feel I died and gone to heaven. It felt so good to have his huge cock sliding in and out of me, darling."

"Do you want to take him back to Canada?" I asked, somewhat irritably.

"Haha ... you are funny." My wife grinned. "I am now forty years old, and a mother. A holiday fling is enough for me."

"Why?" I laughed. "I could set up a video camera in our house and watch you get fucked every day when I am at work."

"Don't worry, my love." My wife repeated. "You know I would rather cuckold you openly rather than have an affair behind your back. And Bhola is ... just ... too much. Once in seven years seems the fine balance. And ... speaking of you ... and your little fella ... you are very hard, my love. Can I help take care of it?"

I did not say a word, nor did I give my wife any warning. I caught the hem of her petticoat and rolled it up to her tummy. Almost as quickly, I put a finger insider her panty and yanked it sharply.

"Ouch!" Neetu yelped, as I roughly ripped her panty in half.

"Babe!" Neetu gasped in surprise as I moved myself up on top of her, positioning the tip of my hard cock to her soaking hole and pushing forward. Her freshly fucked pussy was completely drenched both inside and out. I could feel the juices inside of her flowing past my shaft and out of her. Was it her juice, or Bhola's cum? I had no way of knowing, nor did I want to know. Without much warning, or even warming her up, I began fucking my wife hard and fast.

You like it rough, don't you, I thought. Too bad I can't bring myself to slap you, but I WILL fuck you roughly.

Neetu was definitely not expecting me to move that fast, and immediately started to moan with pleasure. Her legs began to tighten around my pelvis.

I wanted to channel my inner Bhola and last a long time, but alas! It did not take long for me to cum. The action of the night, the taste of my wife's cum soaked pussy, the feel of her sweet wet walls; any one of which could easily set me off, but all combined was too much.

"Oh, baby!" I groaned. "I am going to cum."

Neetu patted my ass.

"Yes, my love. I already have three loads inside me. You can give me my fourth."

I blew my load deep inside of her, adding my cum to the loads that she had already taken from Bhola. I grunted loud as shot after shot of cum erupted from me. Out of breath and out of sperm, I finally rolled off her and lay on the bed next to her, panting deeply. Neetu softly stroked my chest.

"I love you, Gopal." She said, finally taking my name. "I really love you. Thank you for ... letting me ... do this. Thank you ... for ... Bhola."

* * *

We met Bhola's younger brother Bunty on the evening of the Haldi ceremony. He was a young man, around 23 years of age, and was tall and lanky. His face had the innocence of youth, but like Bhola, his eyes betrayed a far more intelligent person behind that naive demeanour.

"Bunty is an engineering graduate!" Bhola told us proudly. "He is the reason I went to Dubai - to earn money for his education. He is the first in our family to have a degree."

"You must be very proud of him." I remarked, and it was an honest remark. From the family background, the poverty, and the lack of opportunity, it was a remarkable achievement by Bunty to have not only gone to a prestigious university, but graduate with good marks.

"And this is my memsaab!" Bhola introduced my wife to Bunty. "I have worked in so many places, Bunty. But for me, Neetu memsaab will always be the only true memsaab! Of all the ladies I have ... um ... served, she is special."

"Oh, Bhola!" Neetu chided him. "You always know how to flatter."

"My brother always speaks highly of you, memsaab." Bunty told my wife. Initially Bunty kept his eyes downward in respect as he spoke to my wife, before finally looking up at her. "And now I can see why he always speaks so highly of you. I have always wanted to meet you."

"And now you have met me." Neetu smiled. "What do you think?"

"Sahib," Bunty gave me a quick smile. "You are lucky to have a beautiful wife like memsaab. I can see my brother was right when he said Neetuji is THE memsaab. She could give any heroine in the film industry a run for her money! You are very lucky, sahib."

"Well ... I like to think so." I could hardly know what to say. These two lads were flirting with my wife openly in front of me. "My wife also had a soft spot for your brother, Bunty. I mean ... Bhola was with us for three years."

"Ah yes." Bunty nodded. "My brother told me of all the good times he had when he was servicing you, sahib. And memsaab, of course."

"Of course."

I wondered how much Bunty knew of how Bhola had actually serviced my wife. I stepped away to get a drink, while the brothers continued to chat and flirt with my wife. They were relentless, making Neetu blush and giggle. As I headed back, I overheard a bit of their conversation.

"You definitely don't look like a forty-year-old mother of one, Neetuji." Bunty was telling her. "Most women let themselves go after becoming a mother. You are still very well put together!"