Category: Adult Story

"Are we all set for India, Gopal?" Neetu asked me, as I climbed into bed beside her. My sexy wife was wearing a small low-cut pink nightie, giving me ample view of her generous bouncing cleavage."Yes, dear." I grabbed hold of her by the hips, throwing my arms around her, and we kissed passionately.SMOOCH!"My goodness, you are one horny hubby tonight." Neetu giggled, as I untied the sash that held her nightie together. The robe flew open partially, letting loose her big boobs."Your panties need to come off too, my dear." I told her, reaching for her underwear. My hands rested on her ass as I squeezed the flesh there. "Damn Neetu! You are one sexy spunky wife. I am so lucky to have you!"Neetu gave me a lovely smile."And I am lucky to have you, Gopal, my dear hubby!"SMOOCH!We kissed again for some time, even as I rolled off her panties. She wasn't wearing a bra, so only the nightie had remained."Darling." Neetu hooked her hands on my shorts. Very expertly she rolled down my pants, and

"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

I made my way sneakily downstairs towards the servants' quarters, careful not to make any noise. Just like for the past four months, it was something I now found myself doing repeatedly more or less every other night, much to my shame and chagrin. As I approached our man servant Bhola's bedroom, the noises that were coming from behind the door was getting louder and louder.I began to blush, both with shame and humiliation, but also with distinct arousal. An arousal that I could not explain, but also could not deny, as my penis started to harden. The shame and humiliation, of course, was because of what was happening behind that door. I carefully knelt by the door, swallowed, and put an ear to the keyhole.Creak! Squeak!Creak! Squeak!The noises were loud now, and very audible. The old bed in Bhola's room was rocking back and forth, squeaking and its hinges creaking. My servant Bhola was having loud, unbridled, raw, passionate sex, and I could hear his naked skin slapping against someone

My name is Fateh. I am a fifty-two-year-old poor Indian man who drives a rickshaw for a living.You may have read the stories involving my buxom wife Narges, our master Sarun, and I in the series "The Rickshaw Driver's Wife". Yes, I am that Rickshaw Driver, the cuckolded husband, and it is my wife Narges who is the eponymous Rickshaw Driver's Wife.Our master, the young Sarun, wrote the first three chapters of that series. If you haven't read his stories, I suggest you read those chapters before reading this. First of all, not only does he write much better than me, but he completely details how I, and my wife Narges, become his slaves, and how he ends up pretty much fucking my wife at will, in front of me, in my own house, in my own bed. I had a big debt, and Sarun is a very rich man. The moral of my life is that if you don't have the money, don't gamble. You will end up losing everything.Our master Sarun has ordered my wife and I to pen the next couple of chapters. As he explained it

It took me some time to track Narges down. Finally, I got the name of a village where she is supposedly staying now. Looking it up on the map, I realized it was about half a day's bus journey away and there was only one bus that went near that village. I would have to take the afternoon bus from Kolkata which would reach a nearby city in the evening. From the bus station there, I would have to be lucky to find a rickshaw to her village -- and hopefully her house. And if I was unlucky that she wasn't there anymore, well, then I would have to find some way back.One day, after tying up some business in Kolkata, I took the afternoon bus. It was a long and tiring ride, but finally we reached the city that was closest to Narges's village. All along I wondered how Narges would look like now. I was now thirty, so she would now be thirty two. Would she still be chubby and attractive and have a fantastic rack that I had loved to lick? Would she remember me, how she had caught me peeking at her

I tried to sleep, but it was tough, knowing what was happening the room next door. Even around 3 in the morning, when my eyes suddenly opened, and I listened in, I heard another person come in to my wife's room.I heard a zipper being pulled down.SLAP!"Be a good girl and open your mouth."I heard my wife whimper, but she did as she was told.A week had gone by and true to his word, Bheem had released Poonam back to the crew. This time, the crew did not do any taking of turns with her. They had all mutually decided, behind their captain's back, that Poonam was now going to be a free for all.The next couple of days were days of pure torture for Poonam.The men had their way with her all day and all night during their "breaks". Every other hour, they would come in, either alone or in pairs, and do as their heart pleased with my wife. I wasn't available in my room to hear the details, but I would know it later. Throughout the day, my wife was fucked hard, made to suck their dicks, her boobs

Two days later, around the evening time, I was scrubbing one of the railings on the second deck, when I heard a commotion coming from the deck below -- the main deck. Altaf was with me and craned his neck to look. It was just about half an hour to sunset and a cool breeze was blowing from the Indian Ocean.It was my wife Poonam.She was naked, of course. Poonam was on her knees on the floor of the deck, her hair tied up in the back and held in a firm grip by Bheem. His dhoti was on the ground at his feet, and she had his cock in her mouth. My wife was giving him a blowjob.And surrounding them were the rest of the crew. All of them were relaxing on deck chairs, watching the show. I saw Lalan, Suraj, Vivek and Sunny. I didn't see Madhavan -- he must have been on the bridge. And Altaf was watching with me from the upper deck.Bheem held Poonam's hair in his fist, pulling her head up and down on his erection."Yeah, that's good, raandi. Keep that up, just like that, you hot little slut. I'm

I looked around. I was in a storeroom. It was a half filled with all sort of boxes. In the other half of the space, they had put a small comforter in one corner. That was to be my bedding, and I was given one sheet to cover myself as well. In the other corner there was a bucket. That was, I was told, for me to pee in the night if I wanted to, since the door was being locked from the outside.What were in those boxes? I pried one of them open. There were lots of newspapers. Old newspapers, for some reason. And buried beneath the newspapers was a lot of wooden blocks. Now what were these men doing with boxes full of wooden blocks, or these old newspapers, I had no idea.A small vent in the wall above the boxes let some air come in and circulate, so I could breathe. There was a light bulb hanging from the ceiling with a switch. Another small circular window, probably no bigger than a couple of feet with the glasses locked, let me look outside at the dark sea. This was to be my home for the

We never saw the terrorists' boat coming. I wasn't even paying much attention. We thought at first it was a fishing trawler. It certainly looked like one of the many we had passed. Suddenly, it passed very close to us. It dwarfed our little yacht completely. As we watched, a few men climbed down a rope ladder from the side of the trawler and got into a little dinghy and rowed towards us. We didn't think much of it, until they were right on top of us, and in a trice began to climb into our little yacht, and before drawing their guns on us.There were three of us on the yacht. There was me, a thirty-year-old whose daytime job is a freelance reporter. I was also a pretty good soccer player, playing for the second division team of Bombay's famous football team The Colonials Mumbai FC. There was a chance that next year I might make it to the premier division. Not bad for a hobby.The others were my twenty-two-year-old sexy and gorgeous tall, big breasted wife Poonam, the love of my life, and

When my maternal uncle returned to our house after an interminable gap of two decades, the transformation was so profound that none of us could recognize him. He had departed from our humble village when he was just a lanky 15-year-old, his eyes brimming with dreams and his heart pounding with the promise of the unknown. All those years, he had wandered across the vast expanse of the country, tasting the bitter and the sweet, the highs and the lows, and finally, he had settled down in Madras, now known as Chennai, where he was engaged in some business ventures.The moment my grandmother laid eyes on her long-lost son, her face lit up with an unbridled joy that was almost palpable. Her eyes, though clouded with age, sparkled with a fervor that was infectious. She was overjoyed to have her son back under her roof, and she was determined that he would never leave her side again. With a mother's instinct, she began her meticulous preparations to get him married, hoping that the bonds of