An Indian Dhabha Adevnture- part 2

Published by jollydead in the blog jollydead's blog. Views: 257

Ten minutes later, we were walking back to his dhaba, fully clothed. I
didn't fancy that bicycle ride again. We didn't really talk much. It
was that familiar awkward silence that follows when you are fully
clothed with a stranger you've just had sex with. Or so I imagine. I
had never done it before.

Sure enough, there was a truck at the dhaba. A truck that had clearly
seen better days, probably back when Nehru was running the country.
There was a nondescript balding guy checking the tires. He looked at
me as I walked to my old table 50 feet away from him and sat down. He
kept sneaking glances at me, and I got the feeling he was smiling.

The old man was blowing life back into the wooden fire they cooked on.
I sat and checked my phone in vain for any sign of a network. I sat
there waiting for the boy to arrange things with the truck guys.

Going all the way to Meerut in this rusty old heap didn't seem like
good news for my bones. But at least I could get a ride to the next
major town. There I could get a taxi, report my accident to the police
and call my insurance company about where my car was.

The boy walked out from behind the truck talking to a big swarthy
bearded guy in a loose Pathani pyjama kurta that screamed truck
driver. They were talking in low voices about something. The big
bearlike guy looked at me for a few seconds expressionlessly and
looked away.

He walked to a table on the other edge of the seating area, even
farther away from me and sat down. The nondescript guy, presumably his
cleaner, followed him. The boy turned and started walking to the
dhaba. I looked at him questioningly and he nodded and held his hand
up, signaling me to wait. He walked to the old man who was now
cooking, spoke to him for a minute, and then started walking towards
me with a glass of tea.

"Thank you." I gladly wrapped my cold fingers around the hot cup and took a sip.

He stood there looking uncomfortable.

"Did you talk to them about giving me a lift?"

"Do you want something to eat?"

"No. So did you ask them or should I?"

He sat down next to me looking very guilty.

"What is it?" I asked.

"You have to believe me. It wasn't my idea."

"What wasn't?"

"I told them memsaab will give you 2,000 rupees if you give her a lift
to Meerut."

"That's fine." I said, relieved. "Don't worry about the money."

"It's not that." he said, scratching the table with his fingers.

"Then?"

"They....well..... Daddu told them."

"Daddu told them what? Ohhhhh...." I understood what he was trying to get at.

"They want to fuck you too."

I sat there stunned. I looked at the two men. The driver was just
sitting there with his eyes closed. The cleaner kept looking at me
every few seconds and smiling. I wasn't sure I wanted to do this. Once
was an aberration enough. With a cute cocky little guy I could keep in
line. These were two rough looking truckers. Then again, these were
two rough looking truckers. They were eating from the plates Daddu had
brought out for them.
For the next twenty minutes, I stared at the table and at the stars
above me, struggling with my emotions. I weighed the decision morally,
careerwise, and sexually. There were so many reasons not to do it that
they outweighed the only real reason to do it. The cleaner guy stared
at me more and more blatantly, making a few weird gestures once in a
while. The burly driver kept his attention on the food.

They finished their food and got up. Then they started walking into
the woods with the boy. The boy gestured with his eyes to follow them.
At this point, I had more or less decided not to. Screw the Meerut
meeting. But as I saw the men, real men not boys, saunter off in the
direction of the cabin, my legs moved on their own and I started
following them. I walked into the fog.

Soon I was in the now familiar hut again. The driver was sitting on
the cot, cleaning his teeth with a toothpick. The cleaner was standing
by a wall staring at me blatantly. The boy, perhaps still guilty about
getting me into this predicament, was standing outside deferentially.

"Name?" the driver looked at me nonchalantly and asked in a gruff voice.

"What difference does it make?" I shrugged.

"Hmmm." He seemed satisfied with that.

I stood inside by the cardboard door, and thought about chickening out
at the last minute. If I did, would they let me? These were two strong
men who had me alone at their mercy in the middle of nowhere. If I
refused, they could just force me to do it. Would they have? I'll
never know. But at that moment, I was doing my best to rationalize my
actions.

"Aap jaldi nangi ho jaiye (Please get naked quickly)" the cleaner
chuckled and said.

I was slightly amused by his use of the respectful pronoun. Was it
meant to be ironic?

I nodded and took my jacket off. Then my sweater. I remembered the
trouble with the boots earlier. I took them off next, but kept my
socks on. The dirt floor didn't look like something I wanted to walk
on barefoot. I then unbuttoned my jeans and slipped them off. The two
men stared at me as I revealed more and more of my naked skin with
each garment.

The shirt came off next and I was now in my bra, panties, and socks in
the dim yellow light of the lantern. At that point, I stopped. The
cleaner was ogling my half naked body with the gaze of a hungry
baboon, staring particularly at my cleavage. The driver, still chewing
on the toothpick, was however just looking at me as if he had seen me
like that many times before.

The driver gestured with his fingers for me to approach him. Shivering
from the cold air and the anticipation of what was to come next, I
walked towards the cot. I stood in front of him, observing him from up
close for the first time. He had broad shoulders, and hairy forearms
as big as tree trunks protruding from his rolled up sleeves. The neck
of his kurta revealed a patch of thick hair at the top of his chest.
And hanging there was a rectangular taveez giving a hint of his
origins.

He looked up at my face. Then his hand went to his waist and he untied
the knot of his pyjama. He fished out a semi-erect dick from a thick
bush of pubic hair. I got on my knees in autopilot and took a closer
look. It was certainly bigger than the boy's. Not as big as my
husband's yet. But seemed decently thick. And it was circumcised, so
he was definitely Muslim.

I felt his hand on the back of my head, pulling me towards it. I
opened my mouth, wrapped my right hand around the base of the dick and
licked it. Salty. I wrapped my lips around it and sucked. The head
responded by expanding. I took more of the dick in my mouth and
sucked, and it started growing rapidly.

With my right index finger and thumb wrapped around the base, I kept
sucking his dick, pushing my tongue against it, and with my left hand,
played with his balls. He took his hand off my head for a moment to
reach down and unhook my bra. The ease and grace with which he did it
indicated that unlike the boy, he was quite experienced in these
matters.

I took my hands off his dick to slip off my bra, and got back to
sucking his now fully erect dick. I was naked except for my panties
and my socks, on my knees on the dirt floor of a hut, giving fellatio
to a burly truck driver who probably earned less in a year than I did
in a week. And yet here I was, sucking his dick hungrily. Shivering
occasionally from the cold but still going strong.

He kept pressure on my head with his left hand although it wasn't
necessary. His right hand went between his legs, reached for my gently
saying boobs and examined them. Not for very long. Just a few seconds.
Unlike the boy who had been all over my boobs, this guy just cursorily
squeezed them, as if checking for cancerous lumps. Then he put that
hand on the cot, sat back, and let me do my thing.

The cleaner was watching this scene with a smile on his face leaning
against the wall a few feet away. I wasn't sure if the boy was still
out there but the cardboard door was propped closed.

I sucked and licked, nibbled and pecked, squeezed and shook for close
to fifteen minutes. His dick, about an inch shorter than my husband's
but about one and a half times as thick, just stayed erect and
non-responsive. Eventually my jaw started hurting.

He put a hand on my shoulder and pushed me back. Then he took his
pyjama off completely, put his legs on the cot and lay down on his
back, his dick erect, bending slightly upwards. I took this to mean
that I was supposed to mount him.

I got up and slipped my panties off. This gave the cleaner a nice view
of my naked ass and he whistled in appreciation. Now completely naked
except for the socks, I climbed onto the cot where I had first been
unfaithful to my husband an hour ago.

The cot creaked and its roped matting stretched and swayed as I
struggled on my hands and knees to straddle the big guy. I put my
knees on either side of his thighs. I was expecting him to make some
effort to enter me. But he just lay there staring at the roof.

I reached down with my right hand and positioned his flagpole at the
entrance of my cunt. It was wet so the thick head slipped in easily. I
was lowering myself on him slowly, letting his thick girth make its
way up my insides, when I felt his hands on my waist. He pulled me
down in one strong motion and I gasped as his dick was completely
inside me, his balls rubbing against my butt cheeks.
Having penetrated me fully, he let his hands drop to the side again.
With his dick inside me, I started moving my hips in a front and back
motion. His dick rubbed gently against my g-spot as I did that,
filling me with a new kind of bliss. With my hands, I pushed up his
kurta revealing a sizeable paunch and a barrel chest, with thick curly
hair all over.

I have a thing for chest hair. My hips tracking a cross over his
crotch with his dick fully inside me, I bent down and nuzzled his
chest hair. I licked his thick dark nipples as my boobs rubbed against
his stomach. He put his hand on my head and ran his fingers through my
hair.

Then with my torso still on his, he grabbed my waist. I stopped my
movements as he started plunging his dick upwards in deep strokes.

"Holy fuck!" I said biting my lips as his pistoning sent new waves of
delight surging through my body.

Still gripping me by the waist, he started pounding me harder and
harder, til at one point, with every stroke of his, my ass would be in
the air a couple of inches above his lap. The room was filled with the
obscene sound of our skin slapping against each other and my groans.
The big bear himself though was completely silent.

I put my hands on cot under his armpits and straightened my arms. This
made my jugs sway back and forth over his chest. He looked at them
expressionlessly and kept hammering my cunt.

A few minutes later, I straightened my torso and leaned backwards,
putting my hands on his thighs. What a great decision that was. That
angle made his dick pleasure the front walls of my cunt even harder. I
was leaning backwards, my boobs swinging up and down hard as this
rugged specimen of masculinity kept drilling into me. Soon I started
shuddering and had a massive orgasm, hollering my way through it. He
had stepped up his pace even more to guide me through the orgasm.

Once I was done cumming, I leaned forward again and my chest collapsed
on his. He grabbed my ass with both hands and kept pumping me for
another fifteen minutes or so. I was a drooling and moaning mess on
top of him, a rag doll at his disposal. My head was resting sideways
on his hairy chest and with my half-open eyes, I could see that the
cleaner now had his dick out and was stroking it while watching this
erotic scene.

I came once more as the beast kept pumping me relentlessly, testing
the structural integrity of the cot. He put one thick finger into my
ass and kept it there for the remaining duration of our coitus. The
four legs had been creaking and squeaking the whole time but I was in
too delirious a state to care if the cot did break.

I was getting the kind of sexual pleasure I had never experienced
before. And I was liking. Having always dated smart, sensitive, well
brought up men (and eventually marrying one), I was used to being
treated gently in bed. I was used to partners who cared about my
needs, responded to my wants, and tried a lot of things.

This was a whole new feeling, one I found myself actually liking.
Ceaselessly rough, dispassionate, animalistic pounding. No changing
positions, no kissing, no cuddling, no fondling. Just pure fucking
with the only intention being the ejaculation of semen. Yes, I had cum
a couple of times while we fucked but the beast wouldn't have a given
a damn if I hadn't. I was just a warm wet hole for his dick to pound,
with a face that wasn't ugly enough to make him lose his erection.

By the time he started pumping his load into me, I had lost count of
my orgasms. I was like a mumbling drooling heap of jelly on top of
him. His jizz filled my insides and started leaking out along the
sides of his dick. When he got done cumming, he lay there for five
seconds. Then I felt his finger exit my anus. And then he
matter-of-factly pushed me off him as if shaking off a fly.

I lay on the cot on my sides, still shaking and quivering, as he got
up, pulled on his pyjama and straightened his kurta. He hadn't made a
peep this entire time. I watched the fuck of my life feeling almost
drunk but he wasn't giving me as much as a second glance.

I felt the cot creak again. The nondescript cleaner was now naked and
had joined me for his turn.

"Don't take too long." the driver said opening the cardboard door.

"Yes boss." the cleaner said rolling me over on my knees.

I tried to raise myself up on my hands, but I was too exhausted to
sustain that position. My shoulders crashed on the ropes of the cot
and my head lay sideways. My ass was jutting up in the air though,
with my cunt gaping open from the recent assault. The cleaner entered
me.

He really was nondescript. I don't even remember how he looked. Or
whether his dick was big or small. All I remember is, he ravaged my
nearly limp body in that position for about ten minutes, fucking me
hard. And just on the verge of cumming, he took his dick out, got off
the cot, made me sit up and unloaded his sperm into my mouth. I
immediately spat it out on the floor and sprawled back on the cot,
exhausted.

The cleaner got dressed and walked out of the hut. The boy came in. I
looked at him with semi-closed eyes. Had he been watching the whole
time? Did he want another go? I didn't care. I just wanted to sleep.

Turns out he didn't want another go. He helped me get dressed, and led
exhausted staggering old me back to the dhaba and helped me on to the
truck. I sat on the cheap rexine seat, leaned against the backrest and
passed out.

BLAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRNNNNNN

I woke up with a start at the sound of a loud truck horn. It was
daylight but there was still fog. It wasn't a dream. I was sleeping
with my head on the lap of the cleaner. His hands were inside my
jacket, fondling my boobs over my shirt.

"Awake?" he leered as I looked up at his face. "Want to fuck again in
the back, memsaab?"

"Shut up!" the driver growled. "It's tough enough driving in this fog."

I sat up and rubbed my eyes. I looked at my watch. It was a little
before 8 in the morning.

"Where are we?" I asked rubbing my eyes.

"Half an hour away from Kanpur." the driver answered, his eyes still
on the road.

"Could you drop me at the airport?"

He nodded.

For the next half an hour, the cleaner kept fondling my ass and my
boobs, whispering requests for a quickie. I negotiated it down to a
blowjob. When the truck pulled up outside Kanpur airport, I was on my
knees on the floor of the truck's cabin, with the cleaner's jizz in my
mouth again. This time I swallowed.

He helped me get down from the truck, squeezing my ass one last time
as he did so. The driver handed me my bags and without as much as a
goodbye, drove off.

The CISF security guards wrapped in shawls outside the terminal were
staring at me in confusion. It's not often that a memsaab gets off a
rickety old truck. But it wasn't just that. I realized that my jacket
was unzipped, and the cleaner's grimy palm prints were all over my
shirt.

"Charter flights office?" I asked.

The security guards pointed me towards it. I could still make it to
Meerut by noon.

The END
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