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  1. 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
    Kinkycouple00 and uulotus like this.
  2. "I am not the writer of this story. This i have borrowed from a writer on other forum , the writer went inactive nearly 5-6 years ago..so am sure it is not a problem if i share this story here .If anyone does not understand the Indian words used here, message me and i will clarify..or google is our friend :)"


    I finished the last of my chicken curry and roti, gulped down the tea,
    and got up. I looked around and surveyed my surroundings. Dark
    moonless winter night at a highway dhaba in the interior of eastern
    Uttar Pradesh. Fog all around us. The tables mostly empty. The dhaba's
    brick-structure illuminated by a flickering tubelight. And he stood
    right under the light, looking at me. From that angle, I couldn't see
    his face. But I am sure he was looking at me. What or who else could
    he be looking at?

    I walked to the faucet by the side of the dhaba, bent down and started
    washing my hands. He approached. Even without looking at him, I could
    sense his gaze on my jeans-covered ass. I finished washing my hands
    and stood up. He handed me a ragged hand towel. I wiped my hands and
    looked at him. He was smiling knavishly.

    "So?" he asked. "What did you decide?"

    I said nothing and walked back to my table. He didn't follow me. I
    picked up my phone and checked it for the hundredth time that hour.
    Still no network. I raised it and moved it around, but in vain. No
    network coverage at all. Two AM on a dark foggy night in the
    boondocks, and my cellphone had no coverage. I looked back at the
    dhaba. He was sitting on the steps. I beckoned to him and he sprinted
    over.

    "You're sure you can get me a ride in time?"

    "Absolutely." he nodded eagerly.

    "What if you're just lying to me?"

    "I swear by Vaishnodevi I am not! It'll be here in an hour. And it'll
    get you to Meerut by noon."

    I sat down, and ran my hands over my suitcase thoughtfully. I looked
    at him. He was cute in a rustic kind of way. Pleasant face with high
    prominent cheekbones and a three-day stubble. His sweater and trousers
    clung to his lithe petite 5 ft 2 frame. Short wiry hair. I guessed he
    was about 20 years old, so a decade and a half younger than me.

    I was used to respect, even subservience from guys his age, especially
    in his socio-economic class. Yes, there were whistles and catcalls and
    stares on the streets sometimes, especially in Delhi. And what woman
    in India hasn't endured faceless gropes on crowded streets? But an
    elaborate well thought out proposition of the kind this boy had made!
    It almost seemed like one of those MTV pranks.

    I looked into his twinkling light brown eyes and reconsidered his
    proposition. The look of eager admiration in his eyes made me
    seriously think about it.

    I hadn't gotten laid in a while anyway. Almost two months. A decade
    long marriage by itself would have severely undermined any couple's
    sex life. Add to it four years of dating and we now had almost 15
    years of sexual monotony. Add to it demanding travel-heavy dual
    careers. Two kids who refused to go to bed unless threatened with
    decapitation or bribed with riches. The inescapable toll time takes on
    the body. It's a miracle we had any sex at all.

    Of course, there had been opportunities and temptations to stray.
    Although not quite the Perfect Ten I used to be in college, I was
    still attractive enough to turn some heads. There were flirtations and
    come-ons of varying levels of intensity at work, in hotels, in
    parties, at holiday resorts, parent-teacher meetings, and of course in
    the gym.

    I had always resisted the temptations. Had never let it go beyond
    really blatant flirting and maybe a cop and feel when drunk during a
    dance. And then imagining my pursuer in my masturbatory fantasies or
    while having sex.

    I'd like to think it was all based on morality. But honestly, a large
    part of it was the hassle of complications that could arise and the
    possible shaming in the still conservative Indian upper middle class.
    I knew some women (and men) who had strayed, had been found out, and
    their family lives and careers were irreparably damaged.

    So more than moral, my concerns were practical. Although not ideal, I
    had a pretty good life. Why throw it all away? I had too much to lose.

    Except here. He didn't even know my name. Or where I lived. Had no
    real motivation or resources to hunt me down and demand more. Expose
    me if I refused. And even if he did, so what? A dalliance with a
    colleague, neighbor, friend, or acquaintance, if exposed, could be
    proven or at least seem plausible. Who would believe this guy?

    "Well?" he broke my reverie.

    "Okay." I shrugged and immediately shuddered at what I had just said.

    "What?" The smile disappeared from his face.

    "Okay." Saying it a second time made it even scarier.

    "Really?"

    For the first time that night he suddenly seemed unsure and nervous.
    Like a poker player who had gone all in on a pair of sixes expecting
    everyone to fold, but had instead been called on his bluff.

    "Yeah, really! I have to get to Meerut at all costs."

    Which wasn't strictly true. Yes, getting to Meerut in time was crucial
    to closing on a multi-million dollar contract. And missing the meeting
    would lead to a lot of groveling, explanations, discounts, and fending
    off more attacks from the competition. Still, if I didn't get there in
    time, it wouldn't end my career or anything. Once they saw my totaled
    car, I would be off the hook.

    But now, the idea had taken root. The temptation had been succumbed to
    in all but deed.

    I got up and stood right in front of him with my hands in my jacket
    pockets. He gave me a nervous smile and turned around.

    "Okay...come with me..." he picked up my suitcase and started heading
    towards the dhaba "...no no....wait here....or maybe.....yes wait
    here. I'll put your bag away."

    I stood there as he picked up my suitcase and started walking towards
    the dhaba. A few steps later, he walked back.

    "The purse?"

    "I'll hang on to it." I patted the purse dangling from my elbow.

    "Okay.." he turned around and then stopped after a couple of steps.
    "Actually, come with me."

    I followed him to the dhaba. He opened the door to a room and walked
    inside it with my suitcase. Then I heard a woman's voice. She talked
    with him in what sounded like an annoyed voice. They had a bit of an
    argument. I wasn't sure who it was. His wife? Mother? Sister?

    As the argument continued, I gave a bit of a start as a few feet away
    from me, something moved. Or rather someone moved. I hadn't noticed
    that an old man was sleeping on a mattress by the wall, covered with a
    blanket. He sat up, reached for his glasses, and put them on. They
    were thick glasses, as if made of coke bottle bottoms. He looked at
    me, confused. I looked back at his magnified eyeballs with a blank
    expression, unsure of what to say.

    The argument got louder as the guy walked out of the room, followed by
    a fat woman in her 50s, presumably his mother.

    "I am telling you, I will be back soon."

    "Nonsense! Who will look after the dhaba? Just ask her to phone
    someone." she noticed me standing there and glared at me. I wasn't
    sure what to say to her. Obviously, he wouldn't have told her the
    truth about the quid pro quo.

    "I told you, there is no network." he walked down the steps and was
    next to me. He then noticed the old man. "And grandpa is awake."

    The woman walked close to me and gave me a stern look.

    "500 rupees." she said.

    "What?"

    "My son is an idiot, being the good samaritan at the expense of
    business. But you look like you can afford 500 rupees."

    I had no idea what this woman was saying. Yes, I could afford 500
    rupees. My boss would have approved a voucher for a hundred times that
    to get me to Meerut. But 500 rupees for what exactly?

    She took my confused silence for refusal.

    "Okay, 300. Or he stays here."

    The guy was unlocking his bicycle.

    "Ma, don't be so greedy." he yelled.

    I quickly reached into my purse and fished out a 500 rupee note. The
    woman snatched it from my hand and walked towards her room.

    "Don't be too late!" she said and slammed the door shut.

    He pushed the bicycle with his hand and asked me to follow him. We
    walked about 50 feet when he gave me the bicycle and said,

    "Just a minute. I have to give grandpa some instructions."

    The skinny old man who was now trying to stand up, listened as the guy
    whispered something in his ear. He then looked at me and nodded. The
    boy walked back to me, took the bicycle and led me to the road. He
    threw his leg over it and lowered his bony butt on the hard underwear
    shaped seat.

    "Sit."

    "Where?"

    "On the bar obviously."
    I hadn't sat on a bicycle bar since I was a kid. It took me a while to
    stabilize my butt on that cold metallic bar. His stubble rubbed
    against my cheek as he grabbed the handle and started pedaling. We
    rode on the highway for about 200 meters past what remained of my car.
    Then he turned onto a dirt track between the trees into the fog.
    Another 100 meters or so and we were at a thatched clay hut, about 20
    feet by 15 feet. I got off the bicycle and he propped it against a
    tree. My eyes had gotten used to the darkness by now.

    "Here?" I asked and he nodded.

    The hut's door was a sheet of old cardboard. He moved it aside, led me
    in and "closed" it again. The room was completely dark. And it was
    colder than outside. Even with my multiple layers, I felt a slight
    chill. Then I heard the sound of a match being struck as he lit a
    kerosene lantern hanging from the roof. The hut was filled with dim
    yellow light from the oil flame.

    It seemed to be a storage of sorts. There was firewood piled up in a
    corner with some wooden crates. There was a rusty old iron cupboard a
    few feet away from me. And a khatiya, which is a cot with a wooden
    frame and ropes, propped up against it.

    As I was looking around, suddenly the kid lunged at me, pushing me
    against the clay wall. His fingers struggle with the zipper of my
    jacket for a few seconds before he opened it. He was about half a foot
    shorter than me, so his kisses landed on my neck and shoulder. His
    hands then slipped under my sweater and my top and started rolling
    them up. Soon he had rolled them up to under my armpits and my bra was
    in sight.

    "Wow!" he said and started clumsily kissing my boobs over the bra. "I
    had no idea they were so big."

    I winced at the coldness of his fingers as they dug into my bra and
    scooped my boobs out. He was a busy little fella, and soon his lips
    and his stubble were rubbing against both my boobs.

    "Ouch!" I said as he bit my left nipple. With my torso exposed I was
    feeling really cold and my nipples were naturally erect as a result.

    "They're so big. Much bigger than Chameli's or Parvati's."

    I did not ask whether these ladies were his girlfriends or ladies of the night.

    He bit the other nipple with less force and then starting licking my
    boobs. My hands were by my sides. I raised them and put them on his
    bony shoulder blades. Then I traced an arc along his sides to his
    waist and started pulling his sweater up. His shirt rolled up with it.

    He took a break from eating my tits and looked a little surprised at
    what my hands were doing. Although I had accepted his offer, I don't
    think he expected me to be an equal participant in the act. He looked
    into my eyes and smiled. Then he pulled off the sweater and the shirt
    himself.

    Before I could examine his chest properly, he was wrapped around me
    again. This time while his mouth returned to my boobs, his hands went
    behind me and grabbed my ass. He squeezed it for a few seconds and
    then started grinding his crotch against my thighs. I could feel his
    erection through his pants and mine.

    I put my hands on his bare back and hugged him, mindful of the heat
    and moisture developing between my legs. This scrawny fella wasn't
    much to look at. His mouth and hands moved with the finesse of a
    sputtering lawnmower. And yet, so starved was my body of male contact,
    that I was responding to him.

    I felt his hands maul my ass and I wanted to feel his fingers inside
    my pants. I took one hand off his back and unbuttoned my jeans. He
    felt the fabric at my waist loosed and immediately slipped his hands
    inside. Inside my jeans and my panties. And his rough thin fingers now
    started rubbing all over my ass. His erection was grinding into my
    thigh even harder.

    While his stubble was still rubbing against my tits, his hands seemed
    very pleased with my ass. I decided to reciprocate and moved my hands
    to his ass. The bare minimum flesh. Not made for grabbing. But still,
    feeling another man's buttocks felt nice.

    He inhaled loudly and raised his face. he looked back to see my hands
    on his ass and then turned his head back and smiled at me.

    "Are you a memsaab or a randi (whore)?" he said and chuckled.

    Although the remark was made half in jest, I felt a surge of rage. I
    lowered my head and bit him on the neck really hard.

    "OWWWW!!!" he screamed and jumped back.

    "Don't call me a randi!" I said angrily.

    He rubbed his neck and stared at me a few seconds. Then he took a step
    forward and tentatively flicked my still erect nipples one by one. As
    if to test if my outburst meant that the deal was off. I grabbed him
    by the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss to assure him it
    wasn't.

    "Don't you know you're supposed to kiss during this?" I said while my
    full lips attacked his thin rough ones.

    He was taken aback for a moment, and then started kissing me back. His
    tongue darted into my mouth right away, so he wasn't alien to the
    concept. As we kissed, he slipped his hands into my panties again and
    this time started running his finger through my butt crack.

    Our bodies rubbed against each other as we kissed for several minutes.
    He had one hand exploring my ass and another squeezing my tits. Then
    he broke the kiss and staggered back as I released my grip on his
    head.

    He walked to the cupboard, picked up the khatiya propped against it,
    and brought it to where I was standing. He laid it on all four legs
    and pushed me towards it. I started lowering my jeans and panties
    while I sat down on it. The rough thick thread of the cot felt
    unfamiliar against my naked butt and when I put my weight on it, I
    felt the flesh form into several rhombus shaped protrusions through
    it.

    "Wow!" he said staring at my pussy and started helping me take the jeans off.

    When the jeans got stuck around my ankles, I realized that the boots I
    was wearing were too big for them to just slide off. I bent down to
    take them off, but he was too impatient. He tugged at my jeans and
    they were inside out extending from my feet in his hand.

    He tugged at the jeans hard, making the cot slide towards him and
    making me fall back on it.

    "Listen, the boots.."

    I started saying, but by now his tugging was having effect. The bottom
    of the jeans stretched and started slowly moving along the boots.
    After they passed over the heel, the jeans came off in one rapid
    motion, making him stagger backwards, and making my legs fly upwards
    in ricochet.


    "Ooooooh!" he whined in delight at the sight of my naked ass and pussy
    suspended in the air for a second as my legs were almost above my
    head.

    When the legs started coming back down under guidance from the laws of
    physics, he leaped forward and stopped their descent. He grabbed my
    feet by the boots and parted them, staring down at the sight it showed
    him. I had shaved down there just a couple of days ago, so my pussy
    was almost completely naked.

    "Hrrrrrrrrhhhhh." he let out a groan of appreciation. My tits, still
    naked with my sweater, shirt and bra bunched up under my armpits,
    jigled back and forth as his knees banged against the edge of the cot.

    He let go of my left leg and with that hand started unbuttoning his
    pants. I kept my leg in the position he had left it and started at the
    crotch of his pants, keen to see what bounty awaited me.

    I was only able to see it for a second or so because as soon as he got
    it out, he bent his knees and shoved it into my now moist cunt.

    "Uhmmmmm." he said as my warm cunt walls wrapped around his dick.

    What I felt inside me confirmed what my eyes had seen for a couple of
    seconds. It was slightly below average in size. On closer examination
    a while later, I guessed it to be around 4 inches or so. Not much in
    terms of girth either. My husband is a little over seven inches, so
    this this penetration didn't exactly test the limits of my cunt.

    He let go of my legs, leaned forward, put his elbows on the cot under
    my armpits and started fucking me with a rapid motion.

    He wasn't much in terms of size. And he wasn't anything at all in
    terms of technique. So in pure physical terms, he wasn't exactly
    setting my loins on fire. But the relatively rare sensation of a warm
    hard boner inside me still felt good. Just shows how badly I was
    aching to be fucked. I even moaned a little.

    He wasn't exactly the dream lover between the legs. But I decided to
    make the most of it. I wrapped my legs around his butt and pulled him
    in as deep as I could. I put my hands around his head and drew him
    into another kiss, as he kept fucking me at a really rapid pace.

    "URHHHHHHHHH!!!" he closed his eyes and grunted hard barely a minute later.

    I started his warm semen start shooting into my cunt. He kept humping
    me as he came for half a minute after he was done cumming, as if
    wishing it had lasted longer. And then he collapsed on top of me,
    breathless. Luckily he didn't weigh much so only the cot creaked, not
    my bones.

    I was also a little breathless. When he rolled off me and lay by my
    side, I felt my cunt with my hands. There was a lot of sticky stuff
    there. For something that had lasted such a short amount of time, the
    incident had left quite a lot of evidence.

    I scooped his cum out and instinctively rubbed it against my rolled up
    sweater, regretting it at once. The rest of the remnants I rubbed
    against the thick threads of the cot.

    "Maza aaya (Did you enjoy it)?" he propped his head up on his elbow
    and asked. I politely nodded. His hand reached down, rubbed my pussy
    and then patted it.

    "How is it that you have no hair down there?" he asked.

    "I shave it." I said.

    "Shave it? With a razor?" he was genuinely surprised. Women in his
    world probably kept their bushes intact.

    "Yes."

    "What if you cut yourself?" he asked, rubbing my pussy again.

    "I don't."

    "How is that possible? I have been shaving my beard for 5 years now
    and I still occasionally cut myself. This..." he pinched my labia and
    then unintentionally rubbed my clit for a second before moving on to
    other parts, "...is so uneven."

    I didn't exactly know how to explain to him the mechanics of shaving
    pussy, so I stayed silent. He played with my pussy artlessly for a
    couple of minutes in silence and then put his hand on my hips. He
    pushed at it and I rolled over on my side away from him reading his
    intent.

    "Kya mast gaand hai (what an amazing ass!)" he said, and spanked it.
    The smack filled the tiny room.

    "Next time I will fuck you from behind." he said, filling me with
    conflicting emotions. On the one hand, I hoped he didn't mean he
    wanted to fuck me in the ass. On the other hand, I was happy there
    would be a next time and I hoped this one would last longer.

    I really wanted him to have another go at me. I decided to take things
    into my own hands. Or my own mouth.

    He smiled happily when I rolled off the cot but instead of getting
    dressed or walking away, stood between his legs. He was then astounded
    when I squatted and pulled his hips forward. And he was about ready to
    faint from shock when squatting in front of him, I took his limp dick
    in my mouth and started sucking on it.

    "Oh wow!"

    "Oh man!"

    "Oh brother!"

    "Oh mother!"

    "Oh amazing!"

    He kept letting out exclamations of delight as I put my considerable
    talents at fellatio to work. I wanted him hard and I wanted him inside
    me. Once I had crossed the threshold, no point in half measures. I was
    happy when in a minute or so, his dick started responding. My ass was
    freezing by now. In a couple of minutes, it was fully erect again. All
    four inches of dark brown sausage.

    In deference to his wishes, I got on the cot on my hands and knees and
    arched my back to make my ass jutt out. The jute matting of the cot
    swayed as he got on his knees in position behind me. I wrapped my
    fingers around the thick threads and waited to be fucked again. My
    boots were still on and their toes rested inside gaps in the matting.

    He grabbed my hips and entered me with ease. This time, I was happy to
    note that he didn't start rutting me like a goat in heat. He started
    off with deep slow strokes. I thrust back with my ass in his rhythm
    and soon we were fucking again. The body heat warmed me up soon and I
    didn't feel as cold anymore.

    He took one hand off my hip, and reached forward to grab one of my
    swaying boobs as he fucked me. This was much better. Yes, this felt
    much better. I took one hand off the cot and started playing with my
    clit. Soon we were both moaning and groaning as our thighs slapped
    against each other loudly.

    He increased his pace gradually this time and by the time he was
    hammering me hard, was had been doing it for almost ten minutes. It
    felt good to know it wasn't going to be another two minute maggi
    noodle experience.

    SMACK! HMM! SMACK! HMM! SMACK! HMM!

    He spanked me every few seconds making loud noises as he did so in
    appreciation of how my butt jiggled. My fingers were giving me as much
    pleasure as his dick and pretty soon I brought myself to a small
    orgasm as he kept fucking me. He groaned in happiness as my slight
    shuddering during the orgasm was felt by his dick too.

    "HRMMMMMMMMMM"

    A loud throaty grunt.

    But it didn't sound like him. It came from door. I turned my head
    sideways and saw that the cardboard door had a 4 inch gap in it. And
    the lantern light from inside the room was reflecting off the thick
    glasses of the old man, who was hunched over, taking the sight in. The
    sight of his presumable grandson fucking a bonafide urban memsaab.

    "What the hell?" I said, annoyed. But I was enjoying the fucking too
    much to stop. I did however pull my sweater down to hide my swinging
    tits from the old man.

    The boy looked at his grandfather, clicked his tongue and said in an
    irritated tone while continuing to fuck me.

    "Daddu!"

    Like me, he too was too engrossed in the sex to stop. As the fucking
    continued, all sorts of thoughts ran through my head. The shameful
    shock as well as forbidden pleasure of having sex while someone
    watched. A worry that the old man might want to fuck me next. A bigger
    worry that I might actually want the old man to fuck me next.

    "MMMHHHHHHHHHH"

    This time it was the boy. His thighs slapped against mine faster as he
    started shooting his cum inside me again. I looked at the old man who
    was just watching everything with a flat expression on his face. And
    for some reason that did it. I started cumming too, this time not from
    my fingering, but from the increased pace of the dick inside me
    combined with the kinky delight at being watched.

    We both were groaning and yelling in orgasmic pleasure as the old man
    watched, for about 20 seconds. And then the dick finally got done
    shooting its jizz inside me. The boy, making a habit of it now,
    collapsed on top of me again. His wet dick rubbed against my ass as I
    took the weight of his slight frame on my back. And we both just lay
    there for a minute or so, breathing heavily.

    The boy rolled off me and started putting his clothes on.

    "Daddu!! Go back to the dhaba! The truck will be here any minute!"

    Daddu cast one long look at my naked ass and then shuffled away.

    "Truck?" I asked, getting off the cot myself.

    "Yes, your ride."

    "My ride is a truck? What the fuck?" I said the last line in English
    unable to resist the rhyme.

    "What?"

    "You said it was a taxi." I said, taking my boots off so I could put
    my jeans back on.

    "No!" he said, buttoning his pants. "I never said taxi. You asked me
    if you could get a taxi somewhere because you had to get to Meerut by
    noon urgently. And I said I could get you a ride to Meerut. I never
    said it would be a taxi. It's a truck that always comes by around this
    time of the week. Like clockwork. I know the guys. They will take you
    to Meerut."

    I snorted and laughed, slipping my panties on.

    "You sneaky motherfucker!" I said.