As per our agreement, my husband was not supposed to call me, but looks like he just couldn’t keep his word. He kept calling me many times during the night. The fact that he promised to act mature but failed to do so really irritated me. He better grow up and adjust to the grown up world. Anyways, I didn’t bother to receive his calls – he needs to learn to deal with this now.
After seeing nearly 17 missed calls from my husband, I felt little bad, but then I was only saving him more shock and sadness. I don’t think he is being mature about this. In fact, I was doing him a favour by not picking up his phone.
That night when I came home, it was quarter past 4 AM. My dear husband was dozing off in the couch in the living room. Looks like he was waiting for me!
Poor him! Can’t believe that my beloved husband has become such a cuckold over the last few months.
I was so exhausted from the marathon ‘workout’ – I could barely walk. I just went into the bedroom without bothering to wake him up, and just dropped into the bed. And I guess when he came around to see me in the morning, I was still lying in the same position. It must have been quite a sight for my hubby. There I was, his beautiful and sexy wife, sprawled on the bed. Like an angel? Yes, but more like a thoroughly fucked angel.
When he came to my side of the bed and sat down, it stirred me to wake up, but I didn't get up. I was still in such deep daze that I could barely acknowledge what he was doing. Always a great admirer of my beauty, Sanjay, my husband, bent down to kiss me on my cheek, gently, so as not to hurt me. Such an innocent man he is. But when he came close to me, he just pulled back in disgust. He must have got the distinct and pungent smell of man’s sperm from my body. For a woman, it would be an intoxicating smell, not sure how a man reacts to strangers sperm.
Immediately he started checking around. He found traces of dried cum in my loose hair. Further down, on my exposed bare back he moved his hand to find many bite and scratch marks. He whispered to me, ‘Oh my god? Priyanka, Were you forced?’
‘Oh! My poor husband! How can you be so naïve? I was not forced, dear darling, I was fucked. No, I wanted to get forcefully fucked. And I did get what I wanted it. Would it be called a force, my dear husband, if I enjoyed it and wanted it? I don’t think so’.
He held me close (while I pretended that I didn’t wake up) and started to sob.
‘What a wimpy man! He should really man up. Why doesn’t he realize that his wife is never going to be a sati-savitri again? Isn’t this what he wanted in the first place? Did he not unleash this wantonness in me? Is he not to blame?’
I am Priyanka, I am 26 years old, taller than most Indian women, at 5’7”. I am quite slim, around 120 lbs. I am curvaceous and well-endowed, Indian housewife. And my life started to change irrevocably few months ago. Back then I had no idea that my life would never be the same again, nor did my husband know this. Those perilous baby steps, which looked so innocent when we were taking them, had set in motion a turn of events that could no longer be controlled or predicted. Each of those turns was quite adventurous and enjoyable to both of us in the beginning, but looks like I am the only enjoying the aftermath, while my husband is next to me holding onto his thoroughly fucked wife and is currently sobbing.
I am married to Sanjay for more than four years now. My husband is an average looking man, 30, but intelligent, and doing well in his career. When we got married, not many people saw us an ideal couple. Most people who look at him, expect from him a seedi-saadi homely, gharelu, Indian housewife draped in a dupatta. But the minute they see me, their jaws just drop. Once, I overheard one of Sanjay’s friends describing me to another friend as ‘extremely beautiful and sexy woman’.
Coming from a very conservative family, I never admitted to myself that I am either beautiful or sexy. As I was growing up it became evident that I was being desired by almost every man who looked at me. Every man seems to lust for me. It was as if I made every man go hard in his pants. For few years it was an enthralling experience to hold such power over men. But I never crossed my limits because of the society I was living in.
Even after four years of marriage, most observers would admit that I continue to be an ‘extremely beautiful and sexy woman’. Well, I do admit that I am very proud of my body, because I do work hard to keep it curvaceous. I go for regular exercises at the gym. The result is quite evident. I have well-toned legs topped with a prominent and tight ass. Most importantly, I have erect and large 34C succulent boobs, topped with prominent, long and easily excitable nipples. I have a nice slim neck. Men drool over me at the gym as they watch every move I make on the treadmill or the weights.
Most of my girlfriends admit that my best assets are my breasts, which curve upwards and also sideways in such a way that my nipples are raised like artillery guns pointing away from each other. When I go to dance clubs, men approach me and try to seduce me with their childish palaver. Many a times I act as if I am being seduced. This gives me the kicks. Usually the nights after such encounters with strange men results in raunchy sex with my dear Sanjay who I fuck till he is drained of every drop of cum from his balls.
I am also proud of my belly button which is very large and deep, and sometimes I wear sarees low on my hips so that my navel and entire midriff would be exposed. I have a very narrow waist and a tight abdomen with a small paunch that accentuated my curves. At restaurants, waiters and mangers show eagerness to serve us, just to catch a glimpse of my succulent boobs constrained inside a tight blouse. And when they do that, I make it a point to drop my pallu or bend down to make them more desperate.
My ass is roundish, protruding, and extremely tight without any sag. Even Sanjay enjoys how men pay attention to my sexy body. Sometimes when we go shopping, he lets me walk ahead, just so that he could catch other men gaze lustfully at my strutting butt. He usually gets a hard-on when other men leer at me. And the nights after that are quite exciting for both of us - Sanjay stayed hard for longer time, and fucked me harder.
I enjoy male attention and long for it now. But it was not the same for me while I was growing up. In fact, I was scared of drawing undue male attention towards me. No matter how conservatively I dressed up, it did not stop men from showing their desire for me. One of my best friends in college told me that it was mostly because of my face. She described it as ‘erotic, with seductive appeal’. Yes, I do admit that I have big dark eyes, but I was not sure if they are ‘languorously suggestive, drooping midway as if I was in the middle of an orgasm’ as one of my silent admirers described them in an anonymous love letter during my college days. I have the habit of wearing dark mascara and dark eye shade making me look even more alluring and seductive. My lips are thick and small but curved in such a way that they ‘invite a man to fuck me right away’, as Sanjay once described them to me.
That anonymous love letter also described my walk as ‘hips swaying languorously like a slow and deliberate pendulum’. My admiring husband, while following me from behind, said that the other men could not resist ogling my ‘two ass globes that move across each other rubbing one against the other with great reluctant force as if there was place only for one’. Yes it is true that when my hips moved from side to side, the ass globes moved up and down, trying to adjust to each of my step, making my walk sexy and seductive. And with each of my step on high heels, my big boobs bounced lightly and gracefully rising up and down supported on my thin waist. I actually never needed to wear a bra, because my breasts were really tight, round, and prominently pushing forward without a sag. I wore them only to hide my erect nipples from showing up through a blouse or t-shirt. Proudly tipping upwards, they were like the beacons of a lighthouse that were pointed towards the stars instead of towards the seas.
All through the four years of marriage, our sex was pretty normal, nothing adventurous, except for a little kinkiness when Sanjay licked my pussy during those ‘special’ nights after we enjoyed my exhibitionist streak in public. We didn’t speak much during the act, and didn’t refer to the act as ‘sex’. Instead we used innocuous innuendos, like, ‘shall we have biryani tonight?’ Mostly it was missionary position. And those special nights, it was doggie position. Of course I did give my husband a blow job once in a while, but it was peremptory stuff, more like, ‘I think I should do this to get it erect’ and was usually not for more than a minute or two.
During one of our post-coital discussion, we started to talk about our sex life quite openly. We both admitted to each other that it has become a chore, an intermittent and dull affair. There was no excitement. During that candid discussion we decided to rejuvenate our sexual relationship, because without an active sex life our marriage is doomed. We agreed that it takes effort, that we should do it more often, that we should both trust each other, and that we have to mature up to try out different things, and not be constrained by jealousy.
It was easier said than done. Though we made repeated attempts to have regular sex, trying to coordinate our daily activities to put my one year-old son to bed early, our sex life remained dull and boring. We both would get naked, he would lay on top of me, he would move in and out of me for few minutes and then he would ejaculate inside the condom. It was done. No matter what we tried, the fire could not be ignited.
After seeing nearly 17 missed calls from my husband, I felt little bad, but then I was only saving him more shock and sadness. I don’t think he is being mature about this. In fact, I was doing him a favour by not picking up his phone.
That night when I came home, it was quarter past 4 AM. My dear husband was dozing off in the couch in the living room. Looks like he was waiting for me!
Poor him! Can’t believe that my beloved husband has become such a cuckold over the last few months.
I was so exhausted from the marathon ‘workout’ – I could barely walk. I just went into the bedroom without bothering to wake him up, and just dropped into the bed. And I guess when he came around to see me in the morning, I was still lying in the same position. It must have been quite a sight for my hubby. There I was, his beautiful and sexy wife, sprawled on the bed. Like an angel? Yes, but more like a thoroughly fucked angel.
When he came to my side of the bed and sat down, it stirred me to wake up, but I didn't get up. I was still in such deep daze that I could barely acknowledge what he was doing. Always a great admirer of my beauty, Sanjay, my husband, bent down to kiss me on my cheek, gently, so as not to hurt me. Such an innocent man he is. But when he came close to me, he just pulled back in disgust. He must have got the distinct and pungent smell of man’s sperm from my body. For a woman, it would be an intoxicating smell, not sure how a man reacts to strangers sperm.
Immediately he started checking around. He found traces of dried cum in my loose hair. Further down, on my exposed bare back he moved his hand to find many bite and scratch marks. He whispered to me, ‘Oh my god? Priyanka, Were you forced?’
‘Oh! My poor husband! How can you be so naïve? I was not forced, dear darling, I was fucked. No, I wanted to get forcefully fucked. And I did get what I wanted it. Would it be called a force, my dear husband, if I enjoyed it and wanted it? I don’t think so’.
He held me close (while I pretended that I didn’t wake up) and started to sob.
‘What a wimpy man! He should really man up. Why doesn’t he realize that his wife is never going to be a sati-savitri again? Isn’t this what he wanted in the first place? Did he not unleash this wantonness in me? Is he not to blame?’
I am Priyanka, I am 26 years old, taller than most Indian women, at 5’7”. I am quite slim, around 120 lbs. I am curvaceous and well-endowed, Indian housewife. And my life started to change irrevocably few months ago. Back then I had no idea that my life would never be the same again, nor did my husband know this. Those perilous baby steps, which looked so innocent when we were taking them, had set in motion a turn of events that could no longer be controlled or predicted. Each of those turns was quite adventurous and enjoyable to both of us in the beginning, but looks like I am the only enjoying the aftermath, while my husband is next to me holding onto his thoroughly fucked wife and is currently sobbing.
I am married to Sanjay for more than four years now. My husband is an average looking man, 30, but intelligent, and doing well in his career. When we got married, not many people saw us an ideal couple. Most people who look at him, expect from him a seedi-saadi homely, gharelu, Indian housewife draped in a dupatta. But the minute they see me, their jaws just drop. Once, I overheard one of Sanjay’s friends describing me to another friend as ‘extremely beautiful and sexy woman’.
Coming from a very conservative family, I never admitted to myself that I am either beautiful or sexy. As I was growing up it became evident that I was being desired by almost every man who looked at me. Every man seems to lust for me. It was as if I made every man go hard in his pants. For few years it was an enthralling experience to hold such power over men. But I never crossed my limits because of the society I was living in.
Even after four years of marriage, most observers would admit that I continue to be an ‘extremely beautiful and sexy woman’. Well, I do admit that I am very proud of my body, because I do work hard to keep it curvaceous. I go for regular exercises at the gym. The result is quite evident. I have well-toned legs topped with a prominent and tight ass. Most importantly, I have erect and large 34C succulent boobs, topped with prominent, long and easily excitable nipples. I have a nice slim neck. Men drool over me at the gym as they watch every move I make on the treadmill or the weights.
Most of my girlfriends admit that my best assets are my breasts, which curve upwards and also sideways in such a way that my nipples are raised like artillery guns pointing away from each other. When I go to dance clubs, men approach me and try to seduce me with their childish palaver. Many a times I act as if I am being seduced. This gives me the kicks. Usually the nights after such encounters with strange men results in raunchy sex with my dear Sanjay who I fuck till he is drained of every drop of cum from his balls.
I am also proud of my belly button which is very large and deep, and sometimes I wear sarees low on my hips so that my navel and entire midriff would be exposed. I have a very narrow waist and a tight abdomen with a small paunch that accentuated my curves. At restaurants, waiters and mangers show eagerness to serve us, just to catch a glimpse of my succulent boobs constrained inside a tight blouse. And when they do that, I make it a point to drop my pallu or bend down to make them more desperate.
My ass is roundish, protruding, and extremely tight without any sag. Even Sanjay enjoys how men pay attention to my sexy body. Sometimes when we go shopping, he lets me walk ahead, just so that he could catch other men gaze lustfully at my strutting butt. He usually gets a hard-on when other men leer at me. And the nights after that are quite exciting for both of us - Sanjay stayed hard for longer time, and fucked me harder.
I enjoy male attention and long for it now. But it was not the same for me while I was growing up. In fact, I was scared of drawing undue male attention towards me. No matter how conservatively I dressed up, it did not stop men from showing their desire for me. One of my best friends in college told me that it was mostly because of my face. She described it as ‘erotic, with seductive appeal’. Yes, I do admit that I have big dark eyes, but I was not sure if they are ‘languorously suggestive, drooping midway as if I was in the middle of an orgasm’ as one of my silent admirers described them in an anonymous love letter during my college days. I have the habit of wearing dark mascara and dark eye shade making me look even more alluring and seductive. My lips are thick and small but curved in such a way that they ‘invite a man to fuck me right away’, as Sanjay once described them to me.
That anonymous love letter also described my walk as ‘hips swaying languorously like a slow and deliberate pendulum’. My admiring husband, while following me from behind, said that the other men could not resist ogling my ‘two ass globes that move across each other rubbing one against the other with great reluctant force as if there was place only for one’. Yes it is true that when my hips moved from side to side, the ass globes moved up and down, trying to adjust to each of my step, making my walk sexy and seductive. And with each of my step on high heels, my big boobs bounced lightly and gracefully rising up and down supported on my thin waist. I actually never needed to wear a bra, because my breasts were really tight, round, and prominently pushing forward without a sag. I wore them only to hide my erect nipples from showing up through a blouse or t-shirt. Proudly tipping upwards, they were like the beacons of a lighthouse that were pointed towards the stars instead of towards the seas.
All through the four years of marriage, our sex was pretty normal, nothing adventurous, except for a little kinkiness when Sanjay licked my pussy during those ‘special’ nights after we enjoyed my exhibitionist streak in public. We didn’t speak much during the act, and didn’t refer to the act as ‘sex’. Instead we used innocuous innuendos, like, ‘shall we have biryani tonight?’ Mostly it was missionary position. And those special nights, it was doggie position. Of course I did give my husband a blow job once in a while, but it was peremptory stuff, more like, ‘I think I should do this to get it erect’ and was usually not for more than a minute or two.
During one of our post-coital discussion, we started to talk about our sex life quite openly. We both admitted to each other that it has become a chore, an intermittent and dull affair. There was no excitement. During that candid discussion we decided to rejuvenate our sexual relationship, because without an active sex life our marriage is doomed. We agreed that it takes effort, that we should do it more often, that we should both trust each other, and that we have to mature up to try out different things, and not be constrained by jealousy.
It was easier said than done. Though we made repeated attempts to have regular sex, trying to coordinate our daily activities to put my one year-old son to bed early, our sex life remained dull and boring. We both would get naked, he would lay on top of me, he would move in and out of me for few minutes and then he would ejaculate inside the condom. It was done. No matter what we tried, the fire could not be ignited.