The speed with which the clouds gathered and the skies opened up took me by surprise. I was on my scooty, driving back from a work-related assignment in a village about 40 km outside of Delhi. Usually, I’d take the car for such a distance, but it refused to start in the morning. I expected to return before sunset, but the assignment had taken longer than expected and by the time I got done, the villagers insisted I have dinner before leaving.
So there I was, on my scooty, close to 10 pm on a narrow local road when it started raining cats and dogs, as the cliche goes. Since it wasn’t the time for monsoons, I expected the rain to stop soon, so I just pulled over by the side of the road and stopped under a tree. Half an hour later, the rain still had not let up. I was completely soaked, even under the tree.
I thought of calling home for a rescue from my predicament. As I reached into my purse to take my cellphone out, I felt certain dampness. That’s when I realized I had taken my fabric purse, which was obviously not waterproof. The cellphone was also wet, and had conked off. Great, I thought to myself. Stuck here without a working cellphone on a highway late at night. Some vehicles were passing by. I thought of flagging one down. But there had been so many news stories recently about a group of men in their cars or SUVs kidnapping women from the roadside and raping them, that I did not feel comfortable doing so. I decided the best course of action was to drive until I reached some village, and then make a call from there.
So I got on my scooty and drove for about half a km when putt... puttt... putt… hisssss. The scooty engine just stopped with some ominous noises. I tried to restart it. Even tried the manual kick-start. Did not work. Great. As if things couldn’t get any worse. Now I was soaked to my skin, with my scooter and cell phone refusing to work, stranded on a deserted road at almost 11 pm. I stood there re-evaluating the option of flagging down a car. The rain had gotten even harder now, definitely the heaviest downpour in the region in years.
Finally I decided to take the chance and stood by the edge of the road waiting for some vehicle to pass by. Nothing. Zip. Not a single car or truck for about 10 minutes. Was I in the twilight zone, I wondered.
That’s when I noticed a guy on one of those old rusty bicycles approaching from the Delhi side. He was wearing a raincoat, and had his eyes on the road, so did not notice me immediately. I called out to him and he stopped. Crossed the road and came close to me.
“Hello…, my scooty has broken down and my phone isn’t working either. Do you have a cellphone on you?” I asked in Hindi.
The man pushed his hood back. He was bald and in his 40s. Wiped the water from his face and replied in Hindi, “Cellphone? No. I don’t own a cellphone. But I am a mechanic. Want me to take a look at that scooty?”
“Oh, thank you. It will be great if you can fix it.”
He got off his bicycle, and started examining my scooty.
“Why are there no cars at all on this road?”
“It’s a pretty bad storm, Madam. Trees fallen all over. The road is shut on both the sides, about a km on the Delhi side and a couple of km on the other side. I was just cycling back home from the garage I work at. It’s just a km away.”
This did not sound good. If the road was closed both ways, how was I to get home? The man realized what I was thinking from the worried look on my face and said, “Don’t worry about the Delhi side. They were saying it will be cleared within an hour. It’s not a very big tree, they say.”
He looked under the scooty a few times. Took the toolbox out of the side-box and puttered around. Tried to start it a few times. And then said to me, “Sorry, Madam. There is thingummy thingummy with the thingummy of the thingummy and we need a thingummy.” Well, that’s not exactly what he said. But I am a total dunce when it comes to automobiles so he might as well have said that and I wouldn’t have understood it any less.
“Alright, so can you fix it?” I asked.
“No, not here. Don’t have the tools and parts for it. But if you like, we can go to my garage. It’s just a km away. We’ll get there in no time. There’s also a phone in the garage, so you can call someone and have them pick you up.”
That sounded like the best possible option. So we set off on foot towards his garage, him dragging my scooter, and me rolling his bicycle along.
“So Madam, if you don’t mind. What is your name?”
“Lafiza” I replied, and out of courtesy asked him, “and what is your’s?”
“I am Naresh Verma. If you don’t mind my asking…, what is a young lady like you doing here at this time. As far as i know Muslim women are all housewives, they don’t come out like this alone? We usually don’t get Delhi ‘memsaahibs’ in our parts.”
“Who told you this?” I asked him… in hindi. “That time is gone, even Muslim girls are working in metro cities now a days. I had some work in a village. Was driving back when this storm started.”
“Yes, this storm is really unexpected. Never seen it rain like this even in the monsoons.”
He stayed silent after that, but I noticed that he’d keep stealing glances at me. I had been so preoccupied with thinking about the scooty and how to get home, that I didn’t realize how completely soaked I was. Fortunately, as I always do while on village assignments, I was wearing a very conservative salwar-kameez, with a long scarf around my neck and chest. But even so, being as soaked as I was, the fabric was hugging some curves of my body more tightly than it ever would.
Nothing too scandalous, mind you, but I am sure it was titillating enough for a middle aged mechanic like Naresh. His name indicated he was a Hindu and Hindu women in those parts dressed very conservatively. So I must have been quite a sight for him. I tried not to think too much about it though. Apart from a few glances, which were perfectly normal for any male, he had been very polite and well-behaved. I did not feel threatened by him at all.
Finally we reached the “garage”. I use quote marks because calling it a garage would be too effusive. It was just a small tin shack, probably no bigger than the average bedroom. There was a rusty signboard on top saying “Bajrang Auto Garage” with some Swastik signs painted on the gate and banners. Naresh put my scooter on its side-stand and banged on the metal door of the shack.
“Who is it?” came a thick voice from inside.
“Prashant, it’s me Naresh. Open up.”
The door creaked open and out peered a man I guessed to be Prashant. He was shirtless and wearing only a pair of boxer shorts. He was a small man, shorter than me, and I am just 5’3”. He had a Rajput type moustache, and curly black hair. I’d guess him to be older than Naresh, may be in his 50s.
“What happened?” he asked, staring at me.
“This is Lafiza Madam. She was driving back to Delhi when her scooty broke down. I saw her when I was going home, so brought her here.”
“Hmpfff… OK… bring it in.” Prashant said and opened the folding doors completely. Naresh and I walked in. It was, as I said, a small shack. There was a small mattress in the corner where I guess Prashant slept. The rest of the shack was filled with two-wheelers, their parts and other tools. The whole place also reeked of something I couldn’t quite place… probably just grease and petrol. In another corner was a chair with a table, and on top of the table, a telephone.
“Can I use the phone?” I asked.
“Yes sure.” Prashant said as he started opening the scooty casing.
I picked up the receiver and held it to my ear. Silence. No dial tone. “There is no dial tone” I said.
Prashatnt came over and took the phone from me. As he did, I could not help but notice his still shirt-less torso. It was hairy, and he had a pot belly. There were some stains of grease on his belly and arms.
“I guess the storm knocked the lines out.”
“Oh. Is there someone close by with a cellphone?” I asked.
“There’s just our garage and two other shops here – one a tea stall and another for hardware. Both are closed, and the guys who run them don’t stay in the shops like me. You will have to walk a couple of km that way for any other shops or houses.”
I weighed my options. It was still raining pretty hard. I could walk to the other shops. But may be I could just wait for these men to fix my scooty and then drive. Naresh was already working pretty hard at it. Prashant went and stood next to him and they started discussing whatever was to be done. That’s when my sneezes started. Achoo’s after achoo’s. About a dozen or so.
“Looks like you are catching a cold because of your wet clothes.” Prashant said looking at me. “If you want, I can give you a clean shirt and a lungi to change into.”
“No, that’s fine. I can wait. It won’t take long to fix this anyway, right?”
“It will take about an hour, and…”
He was interrupted by another bout of sneezing from me. After my sneezes subsided, he looked pointedly at me. I could feel the sneezes getting worse. I decided that it would be stupid to risk getting pneumonia when there was an option to change out of my wet clothes.
“OK I suppose I should change.”
Naresh went to the corner and opened a box. He took out a towel, a relatively clean t-shirt, and a lungi. A lungi, for those who don’t know, is a sarong-like wrap that many Indian men wear. He gave it all to me and said, “As you can see, there is no other room. You can change in here. Naresh and I will wait outside.”
They walked out and I went to close the door. It was just a rusty bolt which I slid into the loop. There was a nail hanging from a thread near the bolt. The purpose of the nail, as I later realized, was to be inserted into a hole at the end of the bolt, to act like some sort of a lock.
I didn’t realize it then and left the nail hanging as it was, instead of inserting it into the hole. Which, ironically, lead to further events.
I should have moved to the back of the shack to change. But whether it was the greasy smell or just laziness, I did not. I started changing just a couple of feet inside the closed door. I then took off my salwar and kameez which were by now dripping with water. I thought for a second about keeping my bra and panties on, but they were too wet. So I took them off too, and got completely naked. I took the towel and started drying myself. I was drying my hair when it happened. The wind suddenly picked up, and the door started shaking from the wind.
A big and audible gust of wind came and as if in slow motion, I saw the bolt sliding back under the pressure. In what must have been just a second, but felt like an eternity, the bolt slid back completely and the folding doors opened with a bang. Naresh and Prashant who had been standing with their backs to the door were startled by the noise and turned around.
I stood there motionless with my hands holding the towel to my hair, as Naresh and Prashant stared at me dumbfounded. There I was, completely naked. In front of two men I had just met.
I was caught in two minds about what to do. Whether to cover myself up or close the door. My first instinct was to grab whatever I could and cover my nakedness. I picked up my salwar and kameez which were lying on the floor at my feet. I held them in front of me and then ran forward to close the door again. Which was a big mistake.
The gusty wind which had blown the door open was still blowing strong. My hands were wet and slippery, as were the clothes. So the gust of wind blew my salwar and kameez out of my hand and outside on to the street and into the darkness. And once again my nakedness was visible to the two men who were still standing rooted to their spots, a few feet away from the door. I now decided to close the door first. Because of my hair getting in my face, I was struggling to pull the door back against the wind gusts when WHOOOSHHH… something else flew by me. The shirt, towel and lungi that Prashant had given me had also flown out. Those were the last possible things to cover my modesty. I could now think of no short term fix to my visible nakedness.
I sank to the ground, wrapped my hands around my folded knees, and hid my face in them, hoping this would at least hide my boobs and pussy. The face was hidden mainly out of shame. In a few seconds I heard someone walk in and close the door. I also heard a chuckle, and then realized, I had heard only one set of footsteps. I looked up and saw Prashant putting the nail into the hole of the bolt.
“You didn’t put this nail in, did you? I thought it was obvious. That’s what it was there for.” he said. I just started at him, red-faced. “Well, Naresh is out there running after your clothes to get them back. Good man, that Naresh. Always does the right thing. I, on the other hand, just had to have another look. He ...he... ! Come on, don’t be shy. I’ve seen everything anyway.”
Prashant was now standing right above me. He was fully drenched, as were his boxer shorts, and his erection was adding to the effect, leaving little to imagination. I could not help but stare at his penis and testicles outlined through the wet shorts. Which turned out not to be a smart thing because he noticed what I was looking at and said, “Oh, that’s what interests you? Well, fair’s fair. You showed me everything, so the polite thing for me would be to do the same.”
And in one motion he bent down, grabbed hold of my hair and pushed my face towards his dick. I stared at his dick as it hit me on the cheek. He pushed my head back and pulled it again, this time the dick hit my closed lips. I looked up at him, and our eyes met. He gave me a stern look, a primal dominant male look which I tried to return with a laboriously mustered up look of resentment. Then he smiled and cocked his head to turn his gaze lower. I followed his gaze and was shocked at what I saw. My left hand was fondling my clit. And I was now on my knees. My body was reacting entirely on its own without keeping me updated. He seemed at a loss for a few seconds.
So far his behavior was mostly about bravado and arrogant needling. He probably expected me to feel shy and shrink back. And frankly, I would have expected the same from myself. But my unexpected reaction had surprised him as much as it surprised me.
We were motionless like that for a few seconds, I staring at him with his dick jerking before my face, and him standing there staring back at me. Who moved next would be crucial in deciding the turn of events. If I had shrunk back, or maybe yelled at him, he would certainly have backed off. But my motionlessness gave him the opening he needed.
“Heh.. ha… ha ha ha” Prashant started laughing. I couldn’t help breaking into what they call a shit-eating grin. I felt his grip on my hair get tight again. He pulled my head towards his dick. This time I opened my mouth and let it in. Immediate reaction – gag reflex! A combination of the strong stink of his dick as well as the fact that he had thrust his cock all the way in and probably hit my tonsils. He took the dick out. I turned my head coughed a little. Then turned back to face his dick. Took it in my right hand and started sucking on it slowly, using my usual blowjob technique. I had encountered a penis with a foreskin for the first time. It felt nice, almost like a big lollipop. I took it out occasionally to glance at it, gave it a lick or two. I was like a little kid transfixed by a new toy.
Prashant was now moaning in pleasure and running his hands through my hair. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be enjoying this blowjob. I had been sucking for a couple of minutes when there was a knock on the door. Prashant clucked his tongue in annoyance, and said, “That is Naresh. Damn, I forgot about him.”
He took the three steps to the door, and opened it. Naresh rushed in, holding just my bra in his hand, and closed the door.
“Sorry Lafiza Madam, the rest of them just flew away. This was stuck in a tree so…….” his voice trailed off as he took in the scene in front of his eyes. Prashant was standing there naked with his dick erect. I was on my knees with my left hand still fingering my clit. He looked at Prashant and me turn by turn, and then said, “Oh…. I see.”
“Been years since I banged such a chick, friend.” Prashant said, slapping him playfully on the back. He then walked past me towards the mattress and lay down on it. He then beckoned me to go to him.
“But… is she… I mean... how come...” Naresh tried to string a sentence together, “You’re not forcing her, are you?”
There was silence for a couple of seconds. I realized Naresh was looking at me for an answer. With this break in the proceedings and Naresh’s question, I had suddenly become doubly aware of the situation. I had been willingly sucking a strange man’s dick, a fat old stinky hairy mechanic’s dick, and had been fingering myself while at it for good measure. Had I been forced? Naresh’s question gave me an exit route if I were to take it. I momentarily even considered it. But the work my fingers had been up to down there had put me in a different state of mind altogether.
The normal demure Lafiza who had struggled a few minutes back to cover herself up and close the door had seemingly been carried away by the gust of winds with the clothes. This Lafiza was possessed, consumed by the most animalistic and basest of instincts.
I got up from my knees and stood up. Slowly walked towards Naresh. Took the bra from his hands and flung it down. Then I turned around, and walked towards Prashant, swaying my hips exaggeratedly, giving Naresh a great look at my butt. I reached the mattress and got down on my knees between Prashant’s spread legs. Bent down and resumed my blowjob.
Naresh did not need an engraved invitation after this. He was out of his clothes in a jiffy and was on his knees behind me. He fondled, pinched and slapped my tight round butt for a while. Then put his finger in my pussy, and chuckled at the wetness. And very soon, ahhh… a cock in my pussy. It had been weeks. After experiencing how an uncircumcised cock feels in the mouth, I was now experiencing one in the pussy. Not too different in the pussy, I must say. But there was much more to Naresh’s cock than just being long and uncut. There was thickness, the sort that I had never experienced before.
It dawned on me now as to why I had let these low class men ravish me. I had experienced sex only with my husband, a sophisticated and genteel lover. His gentle and somewhat timid love-making had begun to leave me unsatiated. Being a cultured and high-class lady, I could never venture outside my marriage to look for sexual fulfillment. Seeing my diminished interest and inclination, my husband sometimes brought Hindi porn books to read together. I think he did it more to arouse himself than to please me. I learnt from these books that rugged working class men were more powerful lovers than the urban sophisticates. When the opportunity came today to experience sex with these two rough and strong mechanics in conditions of relative anonymity, I could not resist the temptation. After all, it will only be a one-time experience. With this justification, I decided to let myself go.
Naresh was drilling me hard and deep. His hand kept moving from around my waist, up my back, playing with my boobs, back to my waist, grabbing my butt flesh and so on. His intense fucking distracted me from my sucking and I was just holding Prashant’s dick in my mouth. Prashant took the lead then. He got on his knees, grabbed my hair and started fucking my mouth.
I was being pistoned hard at both ends, and was experiencing a never-before bliss.
Amidst his loud grunts, Prashant became vocal too, “Aah...! Oh yes ... oh yes! Choos mera lund ... Aur jor se choos, randi! Pahle Naresh se chudwa le. Fir dekhna main teri choot ka kya haal karta hoon. (Suck my cock ... suck harder, slut. Get fucked by Naresh first. Then you will see what I do to your cunt.)”
“Yah kya bakwas kar raha hai too! Memsaheb se izzat se baat kar. Inki kripa se hi aaj hamen yah mauka mila hai (What nonsense are you talking! Speak to madam respectfully. We have got this opportunity today only because of her kindness,)” Naresh interjected. He was trying to be genteel like my husband, but only in words, not in deeds. He was hitting the right spots and at the right tempo.
“Theek kah raha hai too. Agar memsahib kee kripa na hoti to aisa maal hame kabhi nahin milta (You are right. If madam wasn’t kind to us, we would have never got such stuff),” Prashant admitted, in between his strokes in my mouth.
I was unable to contribute to this exchange because my mouth was filled with Prashant’s cock. But Naresh intervened on my behalf without interrupting his thrusting, “Abe, ye oonche darze kee memsahib hain, koi maal nahin hain. Too tameez se maza nahin le sakta (Hey you, she is a high class lady, not some goods. Can’t you enjoy with manners?)”
“Is me to koi shak nahin ki memsahib oonche darze kee hain. Inki to choot bhi oonche darze kee hogi (There is no doubt that she is a high class lady. Her cunt should also be high class)”, Prashant enquired.
“YA ALLAH...! YA ALLAH...! AAHH... UMMMM… Ohhh Naresh,” I released Prashant’s cock and yelled as my orgasm hit me. I don’t know if Prashant’s words played a role in it, but I had an extremely intense orgasm. I shuddered with pleasure while it lasted.
Naresh had stopped pumping when the orgasm hit me. Prashant didn’t like it. He admonished Naresh, “Too ruk kyon gaya? Chodta rah aur memsahib ko aur maza lene de (Why did you stop? Keep fucking and let ma’am enjoy more.)”
“Too nahin sudhar sakta, yaar. Par shukra hai ki memsahib ko aise lafz samajh me nahin aayenge (You can’t mend yourself, buddy. But thankfully, ma’am won’t understand such words)”, Naresh exclaimed.
“Samajh me nahin aayenge (Won’t understand?)” Prashant said with surprise. He looked at me and said, “Memsaheb, aapko samajh me nahin aaya ki ham kya kar rahen hain?”
“Main sab samajhti hoon (I understand everything),” I replied. Naresh had resumed thrusting when my orgasm passed over. His longevity amazed me.
“To is bewakoof ko bataaiye ki aap kya kar rahi hain (Then tell this idiot what are you doing)”, Prashant said to me.
My orgasm seemed to have taken away my shyness with it. I replied, “Main tumhare dost se chud rahi hoon (I am being fucked by your friend.)”
This seemed to please Prashant but surprise Naresh. Nevertheless, he kept going. It was amazing that the friction generated by my relative tightness on his thick cock hadn’t led to his early demise. Meanwhile, Prashant had resumed fucking my mouth. In a couple of minutes, his grip on my hair tightened even more and I realized what was about to come. Within seconds, my mouth was flooded with a big load of cum. It took me three gulps, but I swallowed it.
“Dekha kitni aasani se pee gayeen memsaheb (Look how easily ma’am has swallowed),” Prashant said. He took his dick out of my mouth, backed away and sat down watching us. Naresh continued fucking me. It was now close to twenty minutes, I thought to myself in the lustful haze, and he hadn’t paused at all, even for a second.
As if on cue, he paused and took his dick out of my cunt with a small ‘plop’ sound. “Memsaheb, ab aage chod loon (Ma’am, can I fuck you from front now?)” he said. His genteel manners had apparently left him.
I turned around and got on my back. Naresh knelt down between my thighs. He put my feet on his shoulders. He guided his penis between my cunt-lips with his hand and rammed it in. And I almost came again. At this angle, he had reached even farther inside and touched places that had never been touched. And he started yet again, at a hectic pace, fucking me.
“Naresh babu, it’s good to see your stamina has grown with age. But remember, you already have three kids.” Prashant said, “Tumhe ek aur chaahiye kya (Do you want one more?)”
“Nahin yaar, main memsahib kee choot me nahin jhadoonga (No friend, I will not cum inside her pussy.)” Naresh replied even as he kept fucking me.
“AAHHH… OOHHHH … I am ... on the pill. Inshallah … tum andar jhad sakte ho (By the will of God … You can cum inside.)” I managed to get the sentences out. I really was on the pill, and the way this man was fucking me, I wanted him to cum inside me.
My words only encouraged Naresh. Still on his knees, he straightened and lay over me with his weight on his arms and knees. He started ramming my cunt even harder. His chest was rubbing my bare boobs. His strokes became ever more powerful and he started grunting. I sensed what was about to happen. The changed position had hastened my own orgasm. Naresh thrust his hips ahead, then back, ahead, then back. My whole body moved with him as we both reached our orgasms.
Naresh grunted loudly. His body arched and he started shooting his cum in my pussy in powerful jets. I was groaning and trembling with pleasure. When Naresh stopped cumming, I was still writhing with the after-shocks of my orgasm. I could still feel his dick hard inside me for about a minute more. He finally took it out and sat by my side.
I took my hand to my pussy and could not believe the amount of jizz that was coming out of it. I sat up, unsure of what to do. Naresh got up, walked unsteadily and looked around. Finally, he returned to me with a piece of cloth. I took it and put it on my pussy so that it might absorb the plentiful cum.
“Let’s work on her scooty.” Naresh said, and Prashant reluctantly got up and followed him. They both put some clothes on and started working on the scooty. I lay back on the mattress for a while to regain my breath. It was still raining, but the intensity had clearly waned. I got up and walked towards the table. Picked up the phone’s receiver. Thank God, the dial tone was back.
Phone lines had been restored. I dialed my home number.
“Hello. Lafizaa here.” I said.
“Lafiza, where have you been? I was worried sick!” my husband said, clearly worried.
“Sorry honey.” I replied, “It started raining very hard and the roads got dangerous, so I decided to turn back and return to the village to wait the storm out. But my cellphone got wet and stopped working. And the landline connections were down too, so could not call.”
“Oh okay. Thank heavens you’re safe. I was really worried. Should I come there and pick you up? It’ll take me just an hour.” hubby dearest asked.
I felt something poke my butt. I turned around to see Prashant, naked again, with his dick erect once more, grinning at me. He put his finger on my clit and bit my ear, silently chuckling.
“No, I am fine here.” I said, struggling to sound normal. “They have put me up in a small guest house of sorts here. I don’t want you to drive in these conditions. I’ve heard there are many fallen trees blocking the road. Plus, you have to work tomorrow. Just go to sleep. I’ll come back in the morning. Good night, honey.”
Prashant’s finger at my clit had now found just the spot and it took monumental effort to speak that whole statement normally.
“OK, good night. And take care. Is this the number I can reach you at? The one you called from?”
“Yes, honey. Bye.”
I banged the phone down breathlessly, and yelled at Prashant, “What the hell were you trying to do? Why aren’t you helping Naresh?” I looked over my shoulder at Naresh who was still working on the scooty.
“Don’t worry about the scooty, ma’am. Naresh is giving finishing touches to it. ... But can’t you see what you have done to this poor fellow?” He pointed to his dick which was jerking impatiently.
I retorted angrily, “What have I done to it?”
“Achchha, to aapka matlab hai yah Naresh ko dekh kar khada hua hai (Okay, you mean that it has become erect after seeing Naresh!) He replied, “Memsaheb, main us kism ka mard nahin hoon (Ma’am, I am not that kind of man!)”
His words nearly had me laughing. I pacified him, “I know you are not that kind of man. I haven’t forgotten that you came in MY mouth.”
Naresh decided to intervene now, “Memsaheb ne tera pani nikaal to diya. Ab kyon tang kar raha hai inhe (Ma’am did make you cum. Why are you troubling her now?)”
Prashant turned his face towards him and said, “Waah! Toone to memsahib kee choot ka maza le liya. Ab meri baari aai to inka saath de raha hai (Good! You have enjoyed ma’am’s cunt. When it is my turn now, you are siding with her.)”
Naresh pleaded with me, “Memsaheb, is bechaare ka bhi kaam kar deejiye (Ma’am, do this poor fellow as well.)”
Fifteen minutes later, Prashant lay on top of me, his pot belly pressing against my abdomen and his bristly face brushing against my cheeks, as he fucked me lustfully. He was not as good at fucking as Naresh but was decent enough, better than my husband.
“Aah... kya kasi hui choot hai, memsahib (Aah… What a tight cunt it is, Ma’am.)” Prashant was talking in between his strokes, “Aisi pyari choot ka maza to kismet waalon ko hi milta hai. Isi liye Naresh aap ke oopar se utarne ko taiyyar nahin tha (Only the lucky few get to enjoy such a lovely cunt. That is why Naresh was not ready to dismount you.)”
His thrusts were becoming stronger. I was whimpering, clenching his arms, absorbing his strokes.
Bending his head, he sucked my breasts and nipples, without interrupting the in and out movements of his cock. I felt my orgasm looming. He thrusts had become deeper. I was thrashing wildly under him, desperate for release. Prashant seemed to be oblivious to my need. He was going on and on, ramming his cock into my cunt. Unable to wait any longer, I pleaded, “Nikaal do ab ... nikaal do apna pani (Ejaculate now ... shoot you juice.)”
"Theek hai, memsahib (Okay, ma’am)," he grunted. "Ye lo ... aur lo ... ye aur (Take it ... take more ... still more.)"
Mercifully, he erupted inside my pussy, taking me to my orgasm. ... As we lay spent, trying to recover from our joint climax, Naresh said, “The scooty is fixed. And the rain has almost stopped. Ma’am, you can go now if you want.”
Naresh had moved beside us. I checked the clock. It was almost 2 am. I said, “You heard what I told my husband. I am supposed to be in a guest house in the village. So I can’t go home until morning.”
Dismounting from me, Prashant replied, “Ma’am, you can stay here as long as you want.”
Naresh made a move to get up and said, ‘Okay then, I will leave now.”
“Dekhiye ise, memsahib. Khada hua lund le kar ghar jaayega (Look at him, ma’am. He will go home with an erect cock!)” Prashant exclaimed. Turning to Naresh, he continued, “Ghar me memsahib jaisi haseena nahin, teri kaali aur moti beevi milegi. Ja aur chod use (You will find your dark and fat wife at home, not a beauty like ma’am. Go and fuck her!)”
His words made me laugh. I said, “Why don’t you also stay here until morning, Naresh?”
Prashant supported me, “If you stay here, ma’am will probably do something about your erection.”
A few minutes later, Naresh and I were together on the mattress. He had taken his clothes off. I was already naked. He lay down on his back and beckoned to me. I climbed on top of him, took his dick in my cunt and started riding him. He started thrusting upwards. Prashant sat close to us, watching our fucking, and rubbing his dick. After sometime, Naresh took over the responsibility of thrusting. I was enjoying with my face resting on his shoulder. That’s when I felt it, ... something touching my asshole. Surely Prashant wouldn’t.
“Nahin, wahan nahin (No, not there!)” I yelled and tried to shake him off. But he had gripped me strongly.
“Kyon nahin? Agar Naresh aapki doosri bar le sakta hai to main kyon nahin? Aur aapki choot bhari hui hai isliye main to aapki gaand hi le sakta hoon (Why not? If Naresh can take you the second time, why can’t I? And as your cunt is filled up, I can only take your ass!)”
And he applied pressure onto my asshole. It’s not that my asshole hadn’t admitted a cock before. It had. But it had been a while and it was my hubby’s small cock. So it hurt initially. But after a couple of inches had gone it, it was as if my asshole remembered how it is done and relaxed.
It felt weird kind of good that ass-fucking always feels. The pleasure is more mental than physical. I was sandwiched between the two, with Naresh in my pussy and Prashant in my ass. And it felt fulfilling. I was enjoying my first double penetration.
Prashant was besides himself with joy. He was pumping into my ass and exclaiming, “Oh memsahib, aisi pyari gaand maine aaj tak nahin dekhi. Kunwari choot kee tarah kasi hui hai! Naresh, ek bar too bhi memsahib kee gaand mar ke dekh (Oh ma’am, I haven’t seen such a lovely asshole till today. It is as tight as a virgin pussy! Naresh, you should also try ma’am ass once!)”
As it happened, tightness of my asshole overwhelmed Prashant. He didn’t last too long. He shot his load into my asshole and lay panting on top of me. I had a minor orgasm when I felt his cum bathing my bowels but I yearned for more. When Prashant felt my body being heaved by Naresh from below, he got off me and lay down by our side. Naresh kept thrusting from below.
Soon Prashant said to me, “Memsaheb, ek bar ise bhi apni gaand ka maza chakha deejiye. Ye bhi yaad rakhega (Ma’am, give him the joy of your asshole once. He will remember it for ever.)”
I wasn’t averse to offering my asshole to Naresh but the size of his cock was a deterrent. I said, “Prashant, iska bahut bada hai. Main nahin jhel paaoongi (Prashant, his cock is very big. I won’t be able to tolerate it.)”
“Memsaheb, yah achchhi tarah thook laga kar daalega to aapko koi taqleef nahin hogi. Ek bar koshish to keejiye (Ma’am, if he applies spit before inserting his dick, you won’t have any problem. At least, try once.)” said Prashant. He continued, “Naresh, jyada taaqat mat lagaana (Naresh, don’t use too much force.)”
Thus he decided the issue for Naresh and me. I dismounted from Naresh and, somewhat hesitantly, assumed the ass-fuck position - on my knees and elbows. Naresh looked very pleased as he got up and came behind me. He spread my ass cheeks and spat on my asshole forcefully. These crude men were so different from my gentleman husband! As I looked back, Naresh spat on his palm and applied the spit thoroughly on his cock-head. He placed the lubricated head on my slick asshole. I implored him to be gentle even as I braced myself for the attack on my asshole. He pushed it in, inch by inch. Prashant’s cock had made his job easier. It had also made my asshole more receptive. His entry was less painful than I had anticipated. I felt him sinking into my very core.
When he was fully in, I sighed with relief. The worst was over. I asked him to start fucking. He did. He banged harder and harder. The incessant fucking made me moan with pleasure. My lust peaking and ebbing, rising and falling till I could take no more. I came but he was still hammering away. It was a dream fuck, my ass had opened up for him and every pore in my body was screaming with pleasure. I was crying in utmost pleasure, begging him to cum.
Then he came, his cock just grew and grew, my eyes wide in orgasm, I felt like I was floating in air as he burst inside me. I could feel his throbbing cock spit red hot lava in my intestines. Finally when he pulled out, he was as exhausted as I was.
We slept for a while in the closed garage. When I woke up in the morning, my pussy was sore as was my asshole but it was a sweet soreness. Naresh and Prashant went out, looked for my clothes and fortunately brought them back. I got dressed and started my scooty.
As I was about to leave, Naresh and Prashant folded their hands in goodbye and Prashant spoke to me, “Memsaheb, hum se jo galatiyan hui hain unke liye hum aapse maafi maangte hain. Lekin sochiye ham gareeb aur majdoori karne wale log hain. Aap jaisi haseen aurat ko paas se dekhne ka mauka hamen kabhi kabhi hi milta hai. Aur aisi haseen aurat ko koi nangi dekh le to wo apne dil par kaboo rakh sakta hai kya? Fir bhi jo hua uske liye hum sharminda hain. Aap chaahen to aap pulis me report likha sakti hain. Hum bhaagenge nahin (Ma’am, we apologize to you for the mistakes done by us. But think, we are poor working class men. We rarely get an opportunity to look from up close at a beauty like you. And if someone gets the chance see a beauty like this naked, can he control his heart? Still we are ashamed for what happened. If you want, you can report it to police. We will not flee.)”
His words put me in a dilemma. There was a ring of sincerity in his words. I went up to them, kissed both on their cheeks, and left for my home. My mind was in turmoil. I was thinking that if I pass by their garage again, wouldn’t I like to repeat this experience. After all, I had got the best fucking of my life in that garage!
THE END