The Win Win Sin

“Happy anniversary Dear…have fun.”

I said to her as I kissed her on her plump cheeks. Kissing her on her ruby red strawberry flavoured lips wasn’t a possibility right now. Though I wanted to ravish her badly.

She adjusted the pallu of her red saree though it wouldn’t have made any difference. The saree’s see through nature did more to highlight every inch of her milky body than hide it. She had that ever so slight bulge to the belly right near the navel that comes naturally to curvy Indian woman making it appear fit but meaty. She had that kinda deep navel that an entire generation of Indian boys has fetishized owing to the thumkas of Madhuri and Sridevi. A set of breasts that would have been at home carved into the walls of Ellora, contained in a blouse that stretched the concept of its own existence…literally held together by threads tied behind her neck and on her creamy inviting back…all of it seductively hidden beneath a waist length curtain of smooth black hair.

The spa treatment had taken 2 hours. She didn’t have any hair below her eyebrows. She had even had her make up done like extra tempting today…But what embellishment does perfection need. Even if woken up at 4:00 a.m. after a long night, she would still be a stunner with that cute kokani brahmin face and those mischievous hazel eyes. She had that kind of rich milky fairness that comes naturally to Indian women, not the pale ugly whiteness of the foreigners. She hadn’t ever put on such a show. Not even for our wedding day I think. Her excitement was somewhere between a bride and a teenage girl. Mine was popping out of my grey boxer shorts.

“Thanks dear…” She hesitated for a moment and continued”…I hope its okay..I…I love you for this!”

I took her to the full length mirror and stood behind her. She was uncharacteristically tall for an Indian girl… with her heels on she was almost as tall as me. I put her hair over one shoulder exposing her back. Tracing a finger over her spine, I could feel her breathing get heavier. I was wearing nothing but the shorts, she was fully dressed. I had never felt shorter than her before now. I pushed myself closer to her and whispered

“It’s okay…I want this. For you. For us. Go have fun..” not that she needed any more encouragement. Just re-assurance. Her scent and her bare neck were too inviting. Before I could start kissing she started rubbing my already warm crotch and stopped me. The mischief in her eyes was back.

“Don’t kiss me and ruin my make up. It’s not for you today”

I wanted to rape her right then and there. But I held myself back. She always knew what to say. Not that I hadn’t confessed those things to her anyway in our numerous tease and denial sessions over the last 4 years. But it never failed to have an effect. The effect was multiplied by the fact that she actually enjoyed this a lot.

She smiled and said “You remember the promise right…I don’t think you are gonna keep it. “and continued to rub my dick over the shorts. She knew fully well it was a promise I desperately wanted to keep.

“No playing with yourself, till am back…” she held my dick tightly which was almost peeking out

…” Got it?”

I managed to gather enough breath to say

“Got it”

My dick was harder than I ever thought possible.

“Oh and…since you so badly want to obey…put these on”

I never knew my dick could get harder. She took the panties she had worn all day before her evening shower and gave them to me. They were nothing special by the looks of them. Light blue Jockey panties that women generally wear in day to day life. They were obviously special to me, not only because I had used them many times before. But now since they were sweaty and worn by her. Plus they couldn’t fit my dick at all…especially now…but again that was the point. She saw the madness in my eyes and smiled knowing that I was loving this.

Without being expressly told to do so, I got naked in front of her. She looked at my average dick and balls which were fully shaved for tonight. I put the panties on. Aesthetically, it looked ugly. But emotionally, it made me feel wound up yet released at the same time. She came close to me. Put her red bangle clad hand around my neck…pulled me closer…while rubbing my HARD crotch sensually, whispered into my ear

“Now we are both dressed as we should be. Don’t remove them. Don’t dirty them. I want to see your condition…as and when I come back”

We both had no idea of when she would be coming back to our Room no 12 from the sunset view villa no 4. The only one who did know was probably enjoying the beachfront view after having his post workout shower. Getting Prathamesh and her a beach view villa was my idea. It’s not that they had both asked for it…but somehow I had done it myself. It was a win-win situation. I wanted her to enjoy it. I wanted her to feel special. But I can’t deny the fact that it made me feel lesser…and incredibly aroused.

As we both felt each other’s breath on our necks…she gave me a kiss below my ear that just lingered around for the perfect amount of time.

“Thanks… I love you so much, baby”

She moved herself slowly back…as if zooming away from me. She put waived a good bye and a flying kiss at me as she shut the door. I stood there breathing in the moment, feeling the jitters in my heart..trying to even walk to the bed without getting aroused was a challenge. The tight constrained panties over my smooth crotch didn’t help at all.

As I was thinking about what to do next, there was a knock on the door. I peeked through the peep hole and it was Kritika again. I feared that she had freaked out. But she was casually weaving her fingers through her hair. She was the kind of girl who didn’t enjoy the pool until she got wet…after that she would be the last one to leave.

I opened the door and let her in.

“Am sorry I forgot something” she said casually.

She walked over to her bag…and took out the mangalsutra her mother-in-law…my mother had gifted her. It was a traditional bigger one that girls seldom wear other than on festivals or poojas. I had begged her to wear it when we were fucking. Somehow it never came to and she always wore the modern slim necklace type one. She knew I loved the longer thicker one that hung between her breasts.

I had no way of knowing if it was HIS orders or her own decision to tease me or maybe tease him. But Indian girls do know the effect a mangalsutra has on any full-blooded Indian man…Perhaps it is a bit of a Oedipal complex…but mating with a mangalsutra and saree clad woman ranks the highest in any Indian males fantasy. She put it on while looking in the mirror…adjusting her hair and pallu again…and turned around to me as if to ask how she looked.

The panties…the edging since last 2 days..the red saree…her finally going to his room…the mangalsutra…I just couldn’t take it anymore.

I pounced on her with all my strength. Even for all my cuck fantasies, I was still a raging pervert first. Even though am not a gym freak like Prathamesh, I still carry enough bulk to force myself on any woman…even a fit and curvy woman like my wife.

She immediately started pushing me back. But I had to take her. I forced my mouth on her…I hated her…I wanted to bite her…I wanted to suck the air out of her…I wanted to make her scream…hurt her…I wanted to punish this milky goddess of a woman…I hated her for this naughty dominating role she had come to accept…I hated her for knowing every devilish thought in my hand…I hated her for driving me crazy…God, I fucking loved her.

She held me by the back of my head…and pushed my tongue deeper into her mouth…My hands immediately started to go to her delicious curvy waist…but she held my hand. After trying to suck the soul out of her…I stopped myself. I could take her anytime. Tonight, was not that time.

We both just stood there panting. I could smell her perfume on my body… which was sweating like anything. Her hair messy…her ruby red lipstick smudged.

“Calm down baby…don’t ruin me for him…” She said again panting but with that mischievous smile. Again I had no clue if this was something I had decided or she or HE had. But I smiled back and said

“You lil slut..” and gave her a peck on the cheeks.

“HIS slut…not yours..” she said…made up her lipstick and hair…and went away giving me another flying kiss and taking the second room key with her while going.

She had started a fire in my loins that could never be extinguished. Couldn’t even watch porn anymore since the last few months when we both started taking the idea seriously. Her and HIM it was all I could imagine. It had not just doubled but perhaps quadrupled my already high sex drive. Anytime I woke up with morning wood, or after a tense day in the office…or when I fucked Kritika to multiple orgasms on weekends…It was all I could think of. Her smooth creamy milky brahmin body under his dark rough muscular one. To add to it he belonged to a traditionally lower caste. A lower caste rough brute coupling with a fair feminine soft brahmin girl is one of the most taboo couplings in India next to interfaith couples. No wonder it’s the most exciting topic on online fourms. It’s the black man-white woman version of Indian society. I was lucky to get to be a part of that boundary breaking in the most delicious way possible.

We are a generation of men raised on porn…visually appealing couplings are just hot. I had shamelessly confessed to my wife that maybe it was some latent bisexuality or maybe the whole taboo nature of it…but by God… merely seeing that dark beefy muscular hunk just stand along side her milky curvy body would turn anyone on… her being my wife was the added masala. Imagining him flexing his huge biceps as he crushed her under him sent me into the stratosphere. Obviously, it was much bigger turn on for her… fucking the one kind of guy society/parents had told her to avoid. Doing it after marriage…with her husband’s express permission was the added masala to an already piping curry… The fact that he was her ex in college sent her over the moon.

Owing to its taboo nature, Cuckolding or wife sharing as a fetish has been around for millennia even if people were too orthodox to admit it before. But thankfully minds are more open now. It was hard for me initially to admit the fact to myself…even though it was a long-time hidden fantasy. We both had always been open to flirting with others. I had done a bit of post marriage flirting with my exes or co-workers…but seeing my sweat covered wife in her sports bra and yoga pants smile and flirt with this bearded beefy confident alpha male made me angry…so angry…that I had to let my anger out twice in my wife and thrice in the bathroom that night after she had passed out from exhaustion. I took it out on her ass by spanking it tomato red the next few days and needless to see she was loving this monstrous resurgence in my attention.

I am not a fitness guy…though am not a fat slob either. But my wife is. She is in fact a gym freak. Although she had to give up on her intense workouts in the first 2 years of marriage with the shifting and adjusting… she took to it again. I had seen during her home Zumba practices. That woman loved sweating it out. I couldn’t even last half her Zumba class. She was a stamina freak.

From belts, bounds to blindfolds we had explored everything since the beginning. We were both perverts to begin with, her reignited fitness craze had multiplied her sex drive. Little was I to know initially this could have been because of her hunky ex being in the same gym. My sex drive didn’t need doubling though my stamina definitely could have. I had an average dick with average fucking time but an off the charts sex drive. She never complained because I prioritized her pleasure over mine. Not that she had a reference point other than porn to be honest.

We both belonged to the last generation in India that grew up with some moral taboos about losing virginity before marriage was ingrained into us by our Marathi middle-class parents. Though we also belonged to the first generation to flirt around with those taboos. She had had given oral sex…many many times as she would confess to me later…before marriage. I had my fair share of playing around…eventually sex too which was good. But I had no idea how great it could be until I met Kritika. A marriage…even an arranged one between an open-minded slut and an open-minded pervert definitely results in a great sex life.

I poured myself an Ice cold beer…hoping the buzz will stop me from fantasizing about the amount of nuclear pent up rage sex these two ex-lovers were going to have in a holiday villa paid for by me. I looked out of the room balcony overlooking the swimming pool…it was late evening and there were 2-3 tourist white girls in teeny weeny bikinis casually playing. Normally I would have stroked myself thinking of ripping of their barely there panties and calling the firangi sluts every possible curse word in their own language while my wife watched me or helped me along. But today was different. Firangi teen girls with tight bodies in bikinis had nothing over a full bodied desi married woman in a red saree.

Rubbing my panty covered dick…Wanting to blow a load, just scream and passout…I still tried hard to keep my promise. I wondered about how slowly we had opened ourselves up to the actual idea…how I had encouraged her to continue the flirting…how slowly it had built up to this.

I couldn’t control it. I badly wanted to cum. Like I never had before. No amount of TV worked. It was 9:00 p.m. I wasn’t even hungry. Although all three of us decided that me being in that room was not what we wanted at that point, I had seen the sex chats they had started having when I had given her my approval. Not only did he have biceps that looked like they would rip out of the sleeves or a wide chest that could fit two women…He had what any usual man would be threatened by…a bigger dick. While not Blacked level big…it was definitely thicker and longer than mine. Perhaps 7-8 inches or so…the veins stuck out as well as his biceps..his toned abs made it stand out even more.. If I wasn’t sure about wanting my wife to explore other options, watching those pics convinced me that I wanted my wife to have a taste of this.

Something about watching his dark circumcised cock that night triggered a weird competitive yet submissive feeling in me. I pounded her that night like I never had in our 3 years of marriage. When we were both an exhausted sweaty mess..my slutty li’l mind reader said..

“are you angry or happy that his COCK is bigger?..” The way she said COCK with a click of her tongue as if that was something different entirely than mine. I just said ‘I dunno’…and got hard and entered her still hungry pussy again. Mid fucking she said something that would make any pervert like me lose his mind. She had screamed his name many times before. This time she did something even dirtier. She almost stopped me. Held my face, pierced into my eyes and said,

“You want me to tell you his COCK is bigger and better, isn’t it?”

Up to that point it was all wife sharing and teasing and competitiveness. This was a whole new game… the rational part of my mind wanted to stop me from admitting my most perverted desires…even to the woman I loved the most. We can entrust our entire lives to people at times yet not be comfortable about sharing our deepest desires. Fortunately, this felt like just the next logical but significant step in opening to my wife. Also, my dick was almost to the point of cumming just on the thought of admitting something so liberating.

I nodded and just went to down to kiss her. God bless this woman…maybe she wanted it for her own selfish pleasure… maybe she saw the weight in my eyes. This was a whole new level of intimacy. Much beyond the physical…beyond anything we had both experienced before. Both of us dropping the roles society deemed us we should have. Dropping all pretences…all identities. She let me kiss her… but stopped me before I could continue fucking.

“Tell me..”

“Tell you what?”

“Whatever it is you want to hear…”

The point of no return was two breaths ago.

“I…I ..I want you to tell me how much bigger he is…”

“..and?..”

Controlling myself from exploding…I moaned

“..how much better he is in bed…”

“Not just in bed, baby… he can last longer than you anywhere he wants…And?”

It was almost as if an orgasm was peeking out of me…looking to escape badly…what more did she want after this?! There is not much more a rational thinking husband can admit to his wife.

“and what baby?..”

Although I had slapped her many times before in bed…that was my first time receiving one. It wasn’t hard one…a playful one but enough to get my attention back on her question.

“..dont you call me ‘baby’ right now…tell me more…don’t you dare cum until you have let it all out…” she pushed me back..as if asking me to get on my back. Woman on top was something we had not been successful with before…either she wasn’t loose enough or I wasn’t hard enough.

I was so engrossed with her suddenly taking control that I didn’t notice, but somehow I was harder than ever before. I was on my back…She was on her knees and holding my dick…she easily slid in. After experiencing our first new position and moaning together, she finally opened her eyes and ordered,

“Tell me MORE!!”

There was an animalistic groaning in her voice that I had never heard before.

There she was…my big breasted, milky goddess on top of me…both physically and now mentally as well.

“I…I just wanna cum..so badly…” That’s all I could moan.

“NO!..Hold yourself until I am done! You want this badly. I know you crave this…I own you tonight. Don’t you DARE cum until you answer me properly!!”

Every word she had said was like an Aakashwani. All those hours of late nights on the internet being a complete slut suddenly come back to me in an instant. Not only was she discovering her dominant side…I was opening up my submissive one. Having your dick up into your ordering wife who is riding you can surprisingly be a life changing experience.

” I…Oh god..I HATE you for making me say this…He is a better, stronger man…”

“WHO IS? SAY HIS NAME”

I wished she had slapped me at that point.

“Prathamesh…he is the better man…..mmmmm..” When I said his name she rode my dick up to the tip and…her meaty ass made a slapping noise as it crashed onto my loins.

“HE…I mean Prathamesh is so HOT…” the moment I mentioned his name…she bounced again. She was completely in control…even though her messy hair and animalistic moaning might say otherwise. I understood the game. Only when I said his name…she would ride and let me cum.

“I want HIM…I want Prathamesh’s hot muscular body on top of you”

“YES!…MORE!”

“I want him…I want Prathamesh to make you his slut!”

“URGGHHH! Keep talking!! DON’T STOP!!”

” I want my hot Hindu Brahmin wife to get fucked by her beefy ex..”

She was beyond words after hearing this. Her pace was increasing… as I continued opening my filthy mind. All my filters were gone. I didn’t care if she divorced me after this. I had wanted this for years.

“I want Prathamesh to use you. I want HIM to bite you, scratch you, I want him to stick his BIG BLACK THICK COCK inside you and stretch you like I never can…”

The mention of his cock made her grunt his name…her eyes were obviously closed and she was imagining him.

” I want HIM to..” I was interrupted by her nails digging into my chest

“Say his NAME…” she said in a tone that sounded somewhere between an order and a desperate plea.