Married Pussy  

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A typical Friday. Too many deadlines, too many phone calls, too many emergencies. Although a few of these deadlines and emergencies were the result of my representation of ‘Roy Industries’, I was still looking forward to lunch with ‘Roy Industries’ president, Rohit Roy. While Rohit always attended to business, he was also a bit of a "rounder," and damn proud of it. Given my rather staid sexual relationship with my wife, Mansi, I enjoyed living vicariously through Rohit's exploits.
This lunch fit the normal pattern. Rohit and I spent the first 45 minutes analyzing and dissecting the antitrust implications of a possible acquisition by “Roy Industries”. After beating that dead horse one last time, Rohit ordered us a couple of Absolute Citron's with soda and embarked on a recounting of his latest conquests.
"Married pussy!" Rohit exclaimed.
"What do you mean, Rohit?" The non-sequitor confused me.
"Married pussy is the easiest, hottest, wettest pussy in the world."
"Rohit, as a married man, I can speak with some experience and certainty on this subject. Married pussy is anything but easy, and rarely hot or wet." My reply was authoritative, but in retrospect I led with my chin on this one.
"Ravi, for such a smart lawyer whom charges Rs15000 an hour, you're a total dumb-shit."
I like Rohit, but he's also a bit abrasive and arrogant. Sometimes he can really push my buttons.
Rohit continued, "When I speak of married pussy, I'm talking about fucking pussies that are married to other men. More times than not, a married woman is dying for a thorough fucking from a real man, not just the weekly ten minute diddle they're used to from their husbands."
"Well, I imagine that there are some dis-satisfied wives out there, but as your friend and attorney, I strongly advise against propositioning married woman. You'll end up with, at least a bruised cheek from her slap and, at worst, excruciating pain from her knee to your groin."
Rohit chuckled, but quickly dismissed my cautions. "Ravi, you don't even have a clue. In the past three months, I've approached five different married women, and I'm batting a thousand. I've concluded that there isn't a married woman out there, who given the opportunity, would turn down a sexual romp with a good-looking man."
"I don't know what world you've been living in, Rohit, but I suspect that if you approached any of the married women that I know your batting average would quickly drop to the point that you'd be sent back down to the minors."
"Like who?" Rohit stared at me confidently.
I was totally dumbfounded. I didn't expect to be challenged on this point. My mind went blank so I tried to avoid the question. "Look, Rohit, you know damn well that there are so many frigid wives living in the suburbs that your theory can't hold water."
"Who?" Rohit wasn't going to let the question slide.
My mind was slowly starting to reason again. I didn't really want to give Rohit the names of any of the married women that I know. Rohit's the type of guy who jumps at every challenge. I certainly didn't want him hitting on the wives of any of my friends. Common sense suggested that the safest thing to do was rely on my wife, Mansi. Mansi and I have been married for twelve years, with two kids to show for the venture. Mansi is not exactly frigid, but she's also rather conservative when it comes to sex. Pretty much straight intercourse, with very rare oral sex, and certainly no anal. From the perspective of frequency, we will usually have sex 3 or 4 times a month. I knew that Mansi would never stray. In fact, she was a virgin when we married.
"Well, Rohit, like my wife, for example.."
Rohit smirked. "You mean Mansi?"
Rohit had met Mansi at a few business functions. Certainly, nothing untoward occurred. Mansi is always the epitome of propriety. Not that she isn't strikingly beautiful, but she masks her 5 foot, five inch, 115 lb. frame and 35-21-36 figure in expensive and conservative attire. One of my unspoken complaints has always been that Mansi's delectable ass is never displayed in a manner befitting its magnificence. Of course, her dark brown, shoulder length hair is always perfectly coifed and frames her high cheek-bones, porcelain skin and full lips.
"Ravi," Rohit shook his head in a condescending fashion, "do you really think for a moment that Mansi hasn't fucked around on you?"
Not wanting to give any credence to Rohit's outrageous suggestion, I tried to remain composed when I confidently replied, "I know she has never cheated and would never cheat. That's why your hypothesis about married pussy is fatally flawed."
"Well, Ravi, if Mansi hasn't taken on any other men, it's only because she's never been presented with the right opportunity."
"Sure, sure, Rohit, whatever you say..." My cynical response only served to heighten Rohit's competitive nature.
"Look, I'll prove it to you if you doubt me... but it’s got to be a fair test. You can't purposefully intervene or interfere. You just have to give me a reasonable chance to prove my point without letting Mansi know that's something's up, I'll admit I'm wrong if I fail. Hell, I'll even let you handle drafting the “New-tech Crop’s” contract at double your hourly rate."
It sounded like a deal to good to be true. I'm somewhat ashamed to admit it, but I really wanted the ‘New-tech Crop’s contract, and double my hourly rate would pay for a nice ski vacation. Yet, I recognized that Rohit's a shrewd man. "What happens if you're right?" The lawyer in me always tries to weigh all the variables.
"See, you're already afraid that I'm right! A second ago, you thought I was full of shit... I'll tell you what I'll make it an easy wager. If I'm right, you agree not to interfere and let whatever happens to happen. OK?"
Less than enthusiastically, I said "Deal."

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Posted : 09/12/2012 12:25 am
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For some unexplainable reason, I looked at Mansi differently that night as she emerged from the shower. I wondered how she'd react to Rohit coming on to her. I wondered whether her nipples would become erect in response to his flirting, whether her pussy would involuntarily lubricate. As I daydreamed about the possible scenarios, I suddenly imagined Mansi naked, laying on her back, her legs spread wide, bucking her pelvis wildly to meet the thrusts of Rohit's invading cock. Certainly, I'd never witnessed such a scene when Mansi and I make love. It dawned on me -- as these illicit thoughts cluttered my mind -- that my own dick was hard beyond any normal erection.
That night I attacked Mansi with fervor. I wanted to reassure myself of my potency. But, Mansi reacted as always, reservedly and in control. Even though I fucked her with what I thought was superhuman intensity, she lay there, moving slowly, waiting for me to finish. At the ordained moment, Mansi reached up and began to fondle my balls and the sensitive skin between my scrotum and asshole. Mansi knows that this sensation always sends me over the edge. Even though I desperately wanted to hold off until her belly rippled with an orgasm, the sensation was too great, and at the last moment, the image in my mind returned to Rohit slamming his dick into Mansi's cunt. I climaxed violently and collapsed. With her normal grace, Mansi slipped out from under me and rolled over to go to sleep. Yet, for me, these unsettling images continued, until I too fell into a deep sleep.
For the next week, I continued to be haunted by these perverse images of Rohit and Mansi in the throes of all varieties of sexual couplings. I found myself masturbating with a fervor that I hadn't known since adolescence. Of course, Mansi was oblivious, remaining the picture of propriety. Perhaps fortunately, I didn't have occasion to speak with Rohit during this time frame, either. The situation began to take on the hazy quality of a wicked nightmare. That is, until a local charitable cocktail party.
It was a typically staid affair, with all the frigid wives parading in their diamonds and designer duds. The husbands, with their fat wallets and brokerage accounts, sucked down fine whiskey while sharing off-color jokes about their bimbo secretaries.
Mansi was in her element. She was dressed impeccably in a black, backless number bearing some International designer's moniker. Actually, it was rather unusual for Mansi, for it displayed her cleavage and a healthy dose of leg. Of course, Mansi had a unique way of looking classy and not the least bit sensual.
After a couple of vodka and tonics, I was startled by Rohit's booming voice. It was quite a surprise since Rohit normally eschewed these events. "More boring than trolling for babes at a convent," I remember Rohit once saying.
"Rohit, what the Hell are you doing here?"
"Ravi, you cynical bastard! I'm here because I care deeply about the very same things that everyone else here cares about"
"Oh, and just what would that celeb cause be, eh Rohit?"
"Something about irradiating the African, homosexual humpback whales, I think." Rohit smirked, and in a sarcastic voice said: "You know, Ravi, I've changed my take on these society bashes. While I still believe that the vast majority of pussies present haven't had a good plowing in the last decade, I've concluded that this fact presents someone like me with endless possibilities."
"God, Rohit, you're a complete predator!" I replied.
With that comment, Rohit glanced over towards Mansi, who was engaged in some banal conversation with the hostess of the party, and remarked: "So, speaking of cunts yearning to be filled, how's our little girl, Ravi?"
Flushed with anger and indigence, all I could muster was: "Fuck you, asshole!"
"Now, now, Rohit boy, remember our wager. Besides you're so confident about Mansi's fidelity that there's nothing to worry about, right?"
With that, Rohit made a beeline towards Mansi. On the one hand, I felt like intervening. On the other, I truly wanted the vindication of Mansi spurning Rohit's base advances. In the end, I drowned my indecision in more vodka and tonics.
As the evening wore on, my stomach felt oddly queasy. This feeling was exacerbated every time I lost sight of Mansi. Yet, throughout, I could not ignore the aching in my balls.
To my frustration, Rohit had succeeded in cornering Mansi into a long one on one conversation. This was quite surprising since Mansi was notorious for her ability to work a crowd. Many times, people would come up to Mansi and apparently interject themselves into the conversation. Normally, Mansi would use the interruption as an opportunity to move on. At the very least, Mansi would always graciously welcome the new party into the discourse. Yet, on this evening, Mansi's body language caused the interlopers to move on after only a comment or two, leaving her and Rohit to themselves.
Finally, the event was coming to an end, and the caterers began to pack up. Mansi remained clearly in sight, and fully clothed, albeit in conversation with Rohit. At last, I felt a sense of relief and victory, as Mansi left Rohit and walked over to me. My elation was short-lived, however.
"Honey, I don't feel like calling it a night yet. Rohit's invited us to join him for drinks and dancing at a club. What do you say, it'll be fun, especially after you've had to put up with this boring purgatory for hours."
I had no choice but to agree. I certainly couldn't beg off and tell that I'd wagered her fidelity for some good Valuable work. Likewise, I would be breaching the deal with Rohit if I interfered.
"Sure, honey, that sounds great." While I was less than enthusiastic, I rationalized away the risk that Rohit might actually succeed. After all Mansi had done nothing improper, yet.

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Posted : 09/12/2012 12:25 am
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Perhaps ill advisedly, I had more vodka and tonics when we reached the club. The dim lights and smokey air of the club further clouded my self induced alcoholic haze. The loud music also rang in my ears and distorted the conversation. Rohit had strategically sat next to Mansi in the booth, relegating me to the other side of the table. My inability to make out or participate in the dialogue heightened my paranoia.
Rohit was chatting up Mansi with aplomb, and had even maneuvered his arm around her shoulder. When it came time for dancing, I was in no condition to spell Mansi from Rohit's devious onslaught. Putting aside my agreement not to intercede, my coordination was completely shot from the drinking.
At first, it was fast dancing, leaving Rohit little opportunity for bodily contact. However, late in the evening, the music slowed and Rohit pressed himself close to Mansi. My senses may have been dulled, or my paranoia rampant, but I could swear that I saw Mansi grinding her belly into Rohit's bulging groin. Maybe I was just feeling sorry for myself, but as I downed my n-teenth vodka and tonic, I began to visualize illicit pictures of Rohit fucking Mansi ferociously with Mansi bucking back like a thousand Rupees slut.
Rohit and Mansi had, meanwhile, danced their way to the most remote and dark corner of the dance floor. Again, my perceptions might not have been acute, but I am sure I saw Rohit and Mansi engaged in a never ending, French kiss while Rohit slowly stroke her ass and fondled the sides of her breasts.

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Posted : 09/12/2012 12:25 am
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Blessedly, closing time finally arrived. As we staggered to the door, I surrendered to Mansi the keys to the car. Rohit said something about a nightcap at his place and, for an instant, my heart stopped. But, for some reason, Mansi declined. I poured myself into the leather passenger seat of our Maruti Aulto. Before Mansi got in she said "Ooops, just a second I think I left something in the club."
I was able to watch Mansi in the passenger rearview mirror as she walked back to the club. But, she didn't go in. Instead, she went up to Rohit as he was unlocking the door to his Mercedes. Again, they kissed...not very long though. I could see Mansi and Rohit exchange brief words. With a sly smile, Rohit placed his hand on Mansi's right tit as she turned to walk back to the car.
Mansi made a little small talk on the drive home, but her thoughts were clearly elsewhere. Although my cock was turgid all evening long, the alcohol caused me to elect sleep over a desperately needed fuck once we got home. Yet, during the night, I slept fitfully, awakening often. At least twice, I heard Mansi breathing heavily and the rhythmic sound of her hand vigorously at work between her legs.

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Posted : 09/12/2012 12:25 am
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The next day, Rohit called and invited me to lunch. I hoped that he would simply take pleasure in the fact that he had groped my wife, and let the "wager" drop. But, this hope was dashed almost immediately.
"Ravi boy! How are you feeling after all that booze. Probably not as good as I was "feeling" last night, if you catch my drift."
The sinking feeling in my stomach again sank in, and I could actually feel my manhood shrink.
"Look," I implored, "why don't we just call the bet a draw"
"No go, Ravi. That wouldn't be very sporting. Especially after all my hard work. But, I'll tell you what: Let me try to ask Mansi out alone just once. If she turns me down, I yield the point."
"Okay. It's a deal." I reluctantly agreed, believing that Mansi would never risk being seen alone, in public, with Rohit.
Rohit was smirking like a cat with canary feathers hanging out of its mouth.
"What the hell are you smiling about?"
"Well, Ravi, I forgot to share one little fact before you agreed: I already asked and Mansi accepted. We're going out tonight."
I felt as if I was going to implode. That morning, Mansi had asked for me to watch the kids because she was going to have a dinner with two of her best college friends, Kavita and Sulochona. We had allowed one another "night's out" since our last child was born as a method of preserving our sanity. I never dreamed that Mansi might use this arrangement to fool around on me. Of course, Rohit could be bullshitting me. I'll never put that above him.
"Tell you what Ravi," Rohit continued, "at the end of the evening I'll give you a call to let you know that Mansi's on the way home. Just to make it interesting, I'll let the phone ring once if nothing happens, twice if she only allows a little petting like last night, three times if she blows me and four rings if she is well fucked."
When I got home that evening, Mansi was busily getting ready to go out. But, she didn't act or dress any differently than on other occasions. I rationalized that Rohit was simply torturing me, and that Mansi was really going out with Kavita and Sulochona.
On the way out the door, Mansi gave me her traditional peck, and said: "We are going to catch that new Hindi film after the dinner. It's a three hour movie, so I'll probably be late... no need to wait up."
Initially, ignorance was bliss. I chose to disregard Rohit's boastfulness and, instead, trust Mansi's honesty. Yet, once I put the kids down, my mind began to wander. A combination of jealousy and uncertainty gnawed at my brain. But, at the same time, I felt bad about doubting Mansi.
By 10:30 PM, my stomach became unsettled in the same fashion as the night before when Mansi and Rohit were on the dance floor. By 11:30 PM, my paranoia overcame reason and I thought about ways to confirm Mansi's fidelity.
So, in a very sophomoric manner, I called Kavita’s telephone number. Embarrassed, I almost hang up after the second ring, but then a groggy voice answered "hello." It was unmistakably Kavita's voice, and it sounded as if I'd awakened her from a deep sleep. Flabbergasted, I set down the receiver without saying a word.
To my ironic dismay, I'd proven that I wasn't paranoid. Mansi was out with Rohit.
As midnight eased into the early morning hours, my mental imagery was torture. I would alternate between fantasies of Rohit fucking Mansi in all different positions, with fantasies of Mansi resolutely turning down Rohit's advances, saying "No, I'm a married woman!"
Tellingly, my cock was rock hard as I imagined Rohit plowing into Mansi's pussy. With guilty perversion, I stroked myself to an incredible orgasm, which brought on sleep.
Suddenly, I awoke to the sound of the telephone. I looked at the clock; it was 2:26 AM! It seemed like an eternity before the phone rang for a second time. I quickly rationalized that Mansi had already engaged in a heavy petting session with Rohit, so this second ring should not be that surprising. But, just then, the phone rang for a third time. The shock of the thought of Mansi sucking on Rohit's dick staggered me. I waited with dreaded anticipation, wondering if the caller had hung up.
BBBRRRRIIINNNGGG! The fourth ring pierced through the darkness of my bedroom. Instantaneously, my cock erupted in another climax without the aid of manual stimulation.

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Posted : 09/12/2012 12:25 am
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There I laid in the dark. My belly covered with my own cum. The phone hadn't rung a fifth time. Yet, I still wondered whether Rohit was intentionally torturing me. After all, this was hardly evidence that Mansi had succumbed to Rohit's seduction. At most, it merely suggested that Rohit and Mansi had been together. While their being together was not particularly comforting, it certainly didn't prove infidelity.
So, I waited for Mansi to get home.
She arrived about fifteen minutes after the fourth ring of the telephone. Mansi slipped into the bedroom without turning on the light. Apparently, she thought I was asleep and I didn't disabuse of the notion. She seemed somewhat unsteady on her feet, perhaps the result of a little too much alcohol. Unfortunately, it was too dark to make out anything more than her silhouette as Mansi discarded her clothing into the hamper. Nude, she made her way to the bathroom and closed the door. I was a bit surprised to hear the shower since Mansi normally showered in the morning. But, it did afford me an opportunity to inspect her dirty clothes.
At first, I noticed nothing abnormal other than the smell of smoke that garments always collect in restaurants and nightclubs. Of course, I didn't want to turn on the light so my inspection was hampered. When I retrieved Mansi's panties from the hamper, I felt an obvious wetness. In fact, the crotch was thoroughly sopping. Instinctively, I brought the soiled panties to my nose. The aroma was striking. While I immediately recognized the feminine smell of Mansi's sexual lubricants, there was some other smell even more evident. It was a familiar, pungent aroma ...it was the same fragrance that I smelled twenty minutes earlier when my balls spewed my second load of the night.

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Posted : 09/12/2012 12:26 am
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Oddly, these mixed remnants were not in the least bit offensive. I slipped the panties into one of my drawers for further examination in the daylight hours.
When Mansi exited the bathroom, she had already turned out the light so again my vision was impaired. But, she did walk as if she had just finished a 15k road race. Mansi slipped a white nightgown over her head and climbed into to bed.
There was no effort by Mansi to make physical contact with me. Instead, she rolled over on her stomach with her face away from me towards the wall. Within seconds, I could hear the sound of her deep breathing as if she was already in REM sleep.
I didn't want to wake her, but my curiosity persisted. After about thirty minutes, I extracted my pen light from my bed stand and flicked it on under the covers. Mansi's nightgown had ridden up, fully exposing her legs and ass. Just then, she moved her right leg giving me a clear view of her pussy from behind. I was amazed by what I saw.
Mansi's labia were swollen and pink. In the place of her normal little slit was a gaping opening where I thought I could see all the way up her vagina to the cervix. There were no apparent fluids; she must have cleaned and dried herself in the shower. I marveled at the sight. It was something I'd never even seen, not even on our wedding night. I could only imagine the size of the organ that must have done this damage to Mansi's womanhood. I certainly wouldn't be enjoying the pleasures of Mansi's tight cunt for some time. If ever again.

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Posted : 09/12/2012 12:26 am
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Approach avoidance. In the morning, while Mansi slept, my feelings alternated between abject depression and wanton lust. Fortunately, when I began to slip in the abyss of bemoaning the fact that Mansi had been unfaithful, I pulled out Mansi's panties. The negative thoughts dissipated as my erection grew. The fluids had dried into an obvious yellowish stain, but the odor remained unmistakable. I found the aroma intoxicating.
I found myself masturbating frantically in the bathroom as I held Mansi's soiled panties pressed to my nose. As I came, I knew that this intense sexual experience was addictive, and not one easily dismissed.
Yet, as I drove to work the depression began to set in. My self-esteem was suffering from being cuckolded.
A little after 11 AM, my secretary buzzed in to let me know that Rohit Roy was on the line. I knew that this call would come, but my heart began to race nonetheless. Surprisingly, Rohit said nothing about the night before, instead concentrating his comments on my draft of the “New-tech contract”. He then suggested that we get together for lunch to discuss some of the deal points.
I felt strangely uncomfortable around Rohit at lunch. Every time he looked at me, I wondered what he was thinking. Was he remembering how he'd fucked Mansi last night? Was he wondering what kind of a wimp I was to allow my wife to be screwed by another guy? Had Mansi said anything about my sexual prowess?
After we'd finished talking about the ‘New-tech’ deal, there was a very pregnant pause. Rohit just sat there and stared, a smirk beginning to form on his face. I couldn't bear to look him in the eyes. I felt as if I was out of control, in a free fall.
Finally, Rohit ended my misery. "So, I guess I proved my point. And, gee, Ravi, I'm really sorry about the condition of Mansi's pussy. I never dreamt that she could be so tight after years of marriage."

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Posted : 09/12/2012 12:26 am
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Rohit had done it again: pushed my button. I really should have just admitted it and walked away with my tail (or dick) between my legs. But, I don't know if it was masochism or simply sheer stupidity, I took an indefensible and idiotic position.
"Rohit, you've proved nothing. Mansi was out last with her friends Kavita and Sulochona. I know it for a fact. You have no evidence that you nailed Mansi, other than the fact that you sat at home and called my phone number late last night. The fact that you know how to dial my phone number proves nothing."
Rohit was honestly taken aback by my vigorous defense. After a moment, he just shook his head incredulously and laughed. "Okay, if proof is what you want, proof is what you'll get."
As we parted, Rohit was still smiling and shaking his head. On the other hand, I was kicking myself. What had I done?! I'd just invited Rohit to go after Mansi again! As I continued to marvel at my incredible gaff, I began to suspect that my subconscious may have played a very significant role in my actions. Indeed, I could feel my cock swell as I considered the prospect of a return engagement between Rohit and Mansi.
The next week, Mansi asked for another night out." This time she was going to attend one of her college friend Dipika’s Birthday party. Of course, I had to agree. This time she dressed in a more provocative manner: a black silk slip dress, no bra (something I'd never seen Mansi do before) and I think she was wearing black thong panties (to my knowledge Mansi didn't own any underwear of this type). Mansi concocted no alibi this time; rather she simply kissed me on the cheek and said not to wait up.
After the kids were asleep, I drank three pegs of whiskey and retired to my bed sans clothes. With absolutely no sense of personal dignity, I fondled and sniffed Mansi's cum soaked panties while imagining the salacious things that she and Rohit must be doing at that very moment. I stroked myself to at least two good climaxes before falling asleep.
Even in my dreams, I saw Mansi's slender legs wrapped around Rohit's torso, bucking frantically as he battered her crotch repeatedly with his thick, erect penis. Just as I heard Mansi moaning in orgasm in my dream, and visualized Rohit's balls tightening and shooting their load into Mansi's convulsing cunt, a piercing sound returned me to consciousness. It was the phone.
In an almost Pavlovian manner, I sat up in bed on the first ring. With the second ring, I regained my orientation. The third ring brought a tingling sensation to my testicles and nipples. The fourth ring triggered another eruption from my dick. Then there was only silence as my semen pooled on my belly and I looked over to see the clock radiate 12:49 PM.
When I heard Mansi come in about 15 minutes later, I wondered what Rohit's idea of proof might be. Mansi staggered into the bedroom. She pulled her slip dress over her head. While the only light source was the LED on our alarm clock, I could tell that she had no panties on.
"Damn," I thought. No chance for a fresh source of masturbatory smells.
Then, to my surprise, Mansi just climbed into bed naked, without taking a shower or putting on a nightgown. I could smell alcohol on her breath and, I think, Rohit's cologne in her hair. She rolled over towards me, and kissed me, deeply thrusting her in my mouth. Her lips were loose and her saliva flowed freely all over my cheeks and chin. Mansi had never kissed me in such a wanton and messy fashion before. The taste of alcohol was unmistakable, but mixed in were flavors with which I was unfamiliar. I don't know if it was the alcohol, but when Mansi finally withdrew her lips, my face was coated with a sticky and slimy residue.
Before I could fully assess the situation, Mansi grabbed the back of my hair with both hands and forcefully guided my head underneath the sheets. My cheek brushed her left nipple which was erect and harder than I'd ever experienced. Mansi kept pushing my head until I was between her legs. This was quite out of the norm; Mansi had never demanded oral sex before. If I went down on her, it was always at my instigation.
There I was in the darkness, under the covers. For all intents and purposes, I was blind. Yet, my other senses were heightened. The aroma emanating from Mansi's crotch was pungent. It was the same odor I remembered from her soiled panties, only intensified. There were squishing sounds coming from her pussy, and every so often, a little "fart" of air would escape.
Impatiently, Mansi ground my face into her groin. I could feel a hot, slimy, sticky pool of fluids soaking her pubic hair and cradled by the folds of her spread labia. Instinctively, I opened my mouth and extended my tongue into the void between her thighs. The opening to Mansi's vagina was enormous. It seemed wide enough to consume my nose, mouth and chin. My tongue caught a huge glob of the flow which oozed from her cunt. The strong taste was foreign to me: tart and salty with a tinge of the musky flavor of Mansi's vaginal juices.
Now there was no denying it. I was swallowing the semen Rohit's cock had deposited deep in my wife's pussy. Common sense, Indian morality and years of heterosexuality dictated that I should be revolted. But, my rigid dick and throbbing prostate said otherwise. With a fervor, I began tonguing Mansi's swollen and distended labia lips seeking to savor the remnants that had already escaped from her cunt. I sucked what seemed like an endless stream of semen from the depths of her vagina. All the while Mansi moaned and rocked her pelvis against my jaw. I heard myself whimpering with satisfaction as if I were a suckling infant taking nourishment from a mother's tit.

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Posted : 09/12/2012 12:26 am
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Time and time again, I tried to extend my tongue and swab Mansi's cervix, but I couldn't. Rohit's dick must have been not only thick as a redwood but long as one. He must have pounded Mansi's cervix well up into her belly.
After Mansi had convulsed in orgasm, a thicker flow of cum poured forth. I lapped it up and became to wonder if Rohit's sperm had made its way into Mansi's womb. Even though I knew Mansi was on the pill, the thought of Rohit's virile seed swimming in search of one of Mansi's eggs, sent me over the edge. Without even touching myself, I came again, my semen pooling on the mattress as I continued to coax every drop of Rohit's semen from my wife's folds.
After what must have been ninety minutes of furious efforts, Mansi had climaxed three times and was clean as a whistle. I, too, was hard again, but Mansi was asleep and there wasn’t any drop of sperm left in her vagina. With some hesitancy, I decided to fuck Mansi myself. I positioned my penis at her gaping hole. Literally no pressure was necessary as my dick disappeared. It was a loose, warm sensation as I moved my erection around this vast expanse that had once been a tight little pussy known only to me. There was ample room for more and Mansi's vagina almost engulfed my balls as well. Apparently, the absence of friction allowed Mansi to sleep through the five minutes of my squirming inside of her. I tried to hold off as long as possible, but the thought slipping around in my wife's used pussy was too much. I added my light load to the scene of the crime and fell into a deep sleep.
The next morning (which seemed to come too soon), I awoke with a crusty residue coating my face. Rohit and Mansi's combined juices had dried like a tight mask. I showered and left for work, leaving Mansi asleep. Her face seemed contented.

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Posted : 09/12/2012 12:26 am
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