C0=1== Indian Wife & Construction Guys - Chapter 1 - EroticPad.com
  1.  0  0  0  0  0  1398

Indian Wife & Construction Guys Chapter 1

Purva takes a leap of a trip.

*****

A loud truck horn woke me up. I groggily opened my eyes, and for a few seconds, had no idea where I was or how I got there.

"You're finally up." said a voice close to my ear.

I looked up and saw the smiling face of Sajid, my 55-year old lover, whose shoulder I had been leaning my head on as I slept. We were in a rickety State Transport bus cruising down a rural highway. It hit a bump and my butt almost flew off the seat, reminding me again that we were in the very back row of the bus.

When we got on the bus, there were plenty of empty seats in the front where we could have had a smoother ride. But Sajid insisted we sit in the very back so we could have some "privacy". I tried to reason with him, but he had been getting his way with me for so long, that he didn't even acknowledge what I was saying.I meekly followed him to the back where we spent an eventful night.

"What time is it?" I sat up, looking at the bright daylight outside.

"It's a little past ten." he said stroking my cheeks.

I fidgeted a little and my undone bra under my kameez rubbed against my boobs. I put my hand behind my back and struggled to hook it. A couple of young men sitting three rows ahead of us looked back and blatantly stared at me and my shaking chest as I did so..

"What are you looking at?" Sajid growled at them. "Haven't you ever seen a woman before?"

They instantly looked ahead.

The question was a little ridiculous. I had been getting stares during the entire journey that had started the previous night. And why wouldn't it I? Even wearing my simplest most modest salwar-kameez, I was a visibly wealthy upper caste 32 year old woman, traveling in a rickety non-AC bus with a 55 year old clearly several rungs below my social status. My being on the bus was reason enough for the poor working class people around me to stare and wonder, what is this rich memsaab doing on this bus? Is she lost? Has she been kidnapped? Add to it the fact that Sajid was being quite handsy with me, almost relishing the opportunity to show off that I was his mistress, not an employee or relative.

Seducing me had surely been the greatest achievement of his undistinguished life, and here I was, traveling alone with him, doing everything at his beck and call. In our initial days, I was a lot more assertive and pushed back against his demands that I found excessive. But by now, he had owned my ass and my mind completely. He was clearly proud of how he had me under his thumb and wanted to bask in the glory of that achievement.

So when we had waited at the bus station earlier, he had kept his arms around me, regardless of the stares of the people around us. India is not a country known for PDA anyway. And especially not PDA between a visibly working class 55 year old and a visibly upper class young wife. And when we got on the bus and I was walking towards the back seat, he had smacked me on the butt audibly a couple of times asking me to move faster. Him doing that to his own wife from his own class would have drawn stares in a shy society like India. Here he was doing it to a much younger fair-skinned memsaab. The entire bus pretty much stared at us.

"At my home, you won't be able to sleep till this late." Sajid said as I stretched in the morning. "Everyone wakes up at the crack of dawn."

"I also wake up at the crack of dawn. You know that. I overslept because..." and I lowered my voice, "...you didn't let me sleep much."

It had been a long uncomfortable night, although I couldn't pretend not to have enjoyed it. Sajid had taken full advantage of the privacy and the darkness of the back row, without being too reckless. It was a weeknight so the bus was half-empty most of the night, and all the passengers, like sane people, were sitting in the front. So we had the back three rows of the bus to ourselves.

The bus got going at 9 pm, and soon after that, I dozed off. I was tired from all the house work and chores I had done at home in preparation for this week away from my husband and my son. I had been cooking almost till the very last minute.

I was first woken up just an hour later, by Sajid's hand untying my salwar and slipping into my panties. The dim lights in the bus were still on, but we weren't in the city anymore, so it was dark outside. I leaned back on the seat comfortably as his fingers played expertly with my clit. I reached over with my hand and sure enough, his dick was out as well, hard and waiting as usual. I started jacking it off for him. We were two lovers on the back seat of a bus, pleasuring each other with our hands. We were acting like horny teenagers, even though he was a 55-year old Muslim construction worker and I was a 32-year old Hindu housewife.

As the bus sped through the darkness, he quickly brought me to two orgasms, with all the passengers none the wiser. I am usually very vocal when I cum, but the circumstances forced me to bite my lip and moan quietly through climax. I then leaned over and sucked his dick lovingly, doing it just the way he liked it, varying my pace and using my fingers on his balls. He unhooked my bra and played with my big tits under the kameez. He came quicker than usual, maybe because of how kinky the location was, and I swallowed as always.

I wiped the specks of his jizz from my lips and sat up. I looked around to make sure no one had noticed what we had been up to, and was relieved that everyone was asleep. Sajid put his dick away. Soon he was asleep. I also made myself decent again and fell asleep.

The next time he woke me up was after midnight. The bus was totally dark now as were the surroundings, with no street lights. There was a loud orchestra of snores in the front. He played with my boobs for a minute and then I felt his hands go to my waist. He slid down my salwar and panties and gently pulled me onto his lap. I grabbed the backrest of the seat in front of as as I adjusted my butt, making my salwar and panties fall around my feet as his dick entered my cunt. We fucked like that gently for a few minutes, me gyrating my ass around his lap. He was always hard and big and thick, but this time, he felt particularly erect inside me. Although he had his usual arrogant nonchalant 'I have done and seen it all before' demeanor, I am sure he was as turned on as I was, at this adventurous fuck in a speeding public bus.

Once again, I bit down on my lip to not make any noise as I slowly rode him. He had his hands inside my kameez and over my boobs. As his gorgeous thick cock sent wavelets of ecstasy through my entire being, I was again amazed at what a weird situation I had ended up in, willingly. I wondered what my husband Tarun would say when I told him about this in detail. He had been encouraging and always loved the sexual elements of my fling with Sajid. But I could see that he worried about my safety and well-being whenever something happened outside the comfort of our house.

Although I was doing my best to be quiet, there were still a few telltale noises as we fucked. Of heavy breathing, and occasional moan, and of course, the squishy sound of him inside me as I moved. We were both careful and slow. But after ten minutes of fucking, no one seemed to have noticed or even woken up. Naturally, Sajid decided to get a little bold. It was typical of him to keep pushing the limits slowly.

Until now, we were close to the window in the last row, so the seat in front of us hid our bodies below our chests. With me on top facing away, he slowly slid to the middle of the back seat so I was now facing the aisle. The protection of the front seat was gone. In the darkness, I could see all the way to the front, right up to the driver's cabin. He then tapped my back gently, and I understood what he wanted. By now, we had started reading each other's body language and even minds fairly well. I got on my feet in the aisle,his dick slipping out of my cunt. I stood like that for a few seconds, breathing heavily, and double and triple checking that none of the passengers were awake or looking at us. Sajid also got to his feet, and I felt his hands on my shoulders, pushing me down. Soon I was bent over standing in the aisle, grabbing the handles of the empty seats on either side. And then, in the darkness, as the bus zoomed through the northern plains, my elderly lover entered me from behind, just a few feet away from a dozen or so unsuspecting people.

As I stared ahead at the dark heads of the sleeping passengers a few seats in front of us, Sajid started fucking me in deep slow strokes. Here I was, in a bus full of people in the middle of the night, getting fucked by a man two decades older than me. If any one of them had woken up and looked back, they would have seen me, naked except for the kameez and bra rolled up under my shoulders, my tits swinging, as he penetrated me. And yet no one was watching.

Wait, no one? What about the driver? Surely we were in direct sight of his rearview mirror. The bus was dark, so I was sure he couldn't see us clearly, but could he make out that someone was having sex? Far from feeling worried or ashamed, I actually felt even more turned on. It made me realize how much I had evolved from just a month ago when even having sex with Sajid in my own living room in front of Rasul had seemed too risque to me. I had resisted actual sex for a while, and even after relenting, insisted it be in the privacy of the bedroom. Insisted on a condom. And here I was, getting banged in the back of a bus, with no protection, literal or figurative.

That fuck session was exciting but quick, especially by his usual standards when he could just keep going and going until I begged him to cum. This time, the excitement of the public fuck seemed to work on him too and I could sense his imminent ejaculation within five minutes. Just before orgasming, Sajid withdrew his dick. I swiftly turned around, and squatted to swallow his jizz. As I did so, once again I wondered if the driver could see my naked ass in the darkness suspended inches above the grimy bus floor.

I was woken up once again that night, just a little before dawn. A few of the passengers were clearly awake or stirring, so Sajid was not as ambitious as before. Other than unhooking my bra under the kameez, he kept me fully clothed. He simply made me put my head in his lap and suck his dick as the surroundings got slowly brighter. And with my belly full of his jizz yet again, I went to sleep, feeling tired.

So I had woken up to that loud truck horn later in the morning feeling tired as well. Even between the sex play sessions, the road had been bumpy and the seats uncomfortable, so my sleep had been fitful. Even though it was bright outside, I closed my eyes, hoping to catch a little more sleep.

"Don't sleep. We are almost there."

"Oh ok." I grumpily said and stretched out my arms as the bus started slowing down.

As we got off the bus by the side of the highway, I could again feel almost all the eyes in the bus on me, curious about what brought me there with such an odd and unusual travel companion. I avoided eye contact with everyone else. But just as I was getting off the bus, I couldn't help but look at the driver, possibly the only witness to what Sajid and I had been up to in the bus. The driver looked back at me with a poker face. And at the last moment, winked and looked ahead at the road. It was a polite acknowledgment of the fact that he had seen us fuck.

Once off the bus, I found us in the middle of the countryside, with just my small handbag on my shoulder. Sajid had no luggage whatsoever. He started walking down a narrow dusty walking path leading towards some trees.

"Just a short walk from here." he said.

And my heart started beating a little faster. Was I insane? Why had I come here with him? What could I expect? What was the need for this? Even if I enjoyed sex with this arrogant asshole of a man, I could have just stayed within the secure confines of my home, the way the affair had begun. Tarun had been reluctant to let me go for this short visit, but in the end, like he always did, left the decision up to me. I felt glad about it usually, but at this moment, I was wishing he had put his foot down and stopped me. Why was I here? I knew why, but still...why?

After a few minutes, the foliage cleared and we were at the edge of a small village. The houses were made of stone and mud, with thatched roofs. There were a few kids playing something by the side and two of those boys suddenly came running towards us.

"Abba! Abba!" the younger of them, about Apu's age, jumped into Sajid's arms. The other one, a couple of years older, looked at me curiously.

Sajid briefly hugged the two boys, and soon the four of us started walking. The boys didn't ask about me, but I could tell them looking at me once in a while. And I looked at them. They both looked a lot like their father for sure. Both were short and stocky. Would all of Sajid's kids look like him, I wondered. They started yammering about things to Sajid who just listened and nodded once in a while. I don't think he was actually paying attention. Not at them, nor at me.

As I walked behind Sajid, a lot of villagers waved to him and some stared at me curiously. Obviously, a high caste Hindu memsaab in their remote poor village, that too with someone like Sajid was bound to draw glances. We finally reached his modest house at the edge of the village. As I looked at its modest dimensions, I again asked myself, what was I doing here?

A woman in her 50s clad in a loose green salwar-kameez was sitting on the cot outside with a couple of little girls. She saw us approaching and stood up, with a frown on her face. The girls also ran to Sajid like the boys had and greeted their father.

My heart was practically pounding at my ribs as we walked into the small messy muddy front yard of the house and came closer to the woman. We walked up to her, me staying a couple of steps behind. Sajid nodded at her curtly and simply said,

"Zahra."

She gave him a cursory look as well and then stared at me, examining me from head to toe. I avoided looking into her eyes.

"So is she number 4?" she directed the question at Sajid. I blushed at the implication that we were married or would be married.

"She is already married." Sajid curtly said to her, and gestured at me to follow him. I obediently did, stepping past his first wife without making eye contact.

We walked inside the mud house or rather hut. The entire hut was barely the size of our living room in Jabalpur, but was divided into two rooms. An overweight woman about my age came out from what smelled like the kitchen and seemed very surprised to see me. She looked vaguely familiar. Had I seen her before?

"You brought her here? Is that why you sent me ahead yesterday? So you could bring her? Why? Why?" she asked, almost screeching.

"Why not, Shabnam?" Sajid said. "I have needs and you have let yourself go since you had the kid. Remember why I brought you home?"

I realized that she was the wife who lived with him next door to us in Jabalpur and she looked familiar because I had seen her work on the site. I didn't know until now that she was his wife. Sajid had told me he had one wife who lived with him on the site, but once our sexual games started, I had never thought about it anymore. This was the woman who he went back to every night after spending days with me. She clearly knew who I was, because she was frowning at me as if to say why are you here. I felt really embarrassed as the two women glowered at me and Sajid.

"You can put your bag here for now." he pointed towards a corner absent-mindedly. I did what he said, putting my bag there while still avoiding the angry gazes of the two women.

The tiny house barely had any furniture. A couple of cots, and a couple of thin mattresses. There was a small TV in one corner. This is the kind of life I had only read about in the new or seen in documentaries. And now I was here, voluntarily, to live it for a week.

The tension in the air was palpable enough when another woman walked in from the kitchen. She was lean and graceful. Oh god, his third wife who was in her 40s. For some reason, I had forgotten that there would be three wives not two.

"Fatima, my love." Sajid smiled.

This woman also stared at me, but did not seem as hostile as the others, because she smiled. In fact she looked happy or at least amused.

"So what Shabnam told me is true? And you actually brought her to live with us? When is the wedding? Or is it already done?"

I had no idea if it would be appropriate for me to say something to correct the misconception. This was a bizarre situation to find myself in. It would be one thing for a mistress to meet one wife of the man she was sleeping with. Here there were three of them examining me. Which in some ways made it better, and in some ways made it worse. It was better than a monogamy situation, because clearly, it was understood that Sajid wasn't exclusive with any of them. So it's not like I was a homewrecker or anything. It was worse because there were three of them and just one of me. If they decided to gang up on me, what could I do, so far from my husband and kid and my support system? Again, why had I decided to come here? It was a rhetorical question, of course, because I knew why I was here.

"She is already married. Has a husband and a son and a house twenty times bigger than this one." Sajid said. "She will go back to the city with me."

"But then how will we live in the city with..." Shabnam started talking.

"Shut up!" Sajid cut her off. "This is my house that runs on my wages. I am done discussing this. She is here and that is it. Bring me some food soon."

He walked out of the house, leaving me there with the three women. Zahra looked like she was steaming angry. She just glared at me coldly. Shabnam did so too. I thought of following Sajid out when Fatima the middle wife approached me and pulled me into a corner.

"Would you also like some food, sister? It must have been a long bus ride." she tenderly asked me.

"No, it's okay." I said. I had been hungry earlier, but the nerves of meeting these three women had killed off my appetite.

"Are you vegetarian?"

"No, I am not."

"I asked because you look like a Brahmin, and many Brahmins are vegetarian." I answered.

"I am Brahmin, but not vegetarian." I answered as the other two wives decided to end their glaring and went back to their chores. The question seemed odd, but at least this woman was being friendly and kind, not treating me like a villain.

"Okay! So my hubby finally managed to seduce a Brahmin woman. I know he's been trying for decades. Hehehe." she giggled and gently stroked my cheeks with the back of her fingers. Then she got serious and whispered, "Go outside and stay near Sajid at all times or the other two will claw out your cunt."
It seemed like excessively dramatic advice. But then the situation I was in was excessively dramatic too. Until recently, I was a docile happily married upper caste housewife in a city. Now here I was, in a tiny mud hut, with my 55 year old lover. And his three wives.

Chapter 1