Becoming Vikass Wife

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To understand why I did what I did, you will first need to know a bit about me as a person. I am an upper-middle class guy from Delhi, 30 years old, though most people tell me I look like I am 25. I am about 5’6’’, neither fair nor too dark, and I have a fairly ordinary face.

However, I’ve maintained myself pretty well, am slim and supposedly have an attractive personality. I am gay, quite comfortable with the fact, and I’ve been pretty successful professionally. However, I’ve never had a boyfriend. I have nothing against effeminate or other gay men, but when it comes to romantic and sexual fantasies, I only like men who are masculine and into other women (i.e. straight), and I want to love them as their woman.

About a year ago, my parents, who are fairly well-off, decided to hire a driver as driving through the increasingly cumbersome Delhi traffic was taking a toll on them. That is how Vikas entered my life.

I found him crazily attractive the first day I met him, which was the first day he reported for duty to us. His first task was to drive me and mom to the mall. I hadn’t bothered to find out about him before, so I was pleasantly surprised as I came out of the house and saw this guy washing our car. He was about 5’11’’ – 6’ tall.

He greeted me with a beautiful smile, and I tried to freeze that face in my memory. Straight black hair framed a classically square face with sharp, well-defined features typical of guys from Haryana (which is where I later found out he was from). He had a jet black, well-maintained beard much in fashion nowadays. The shoulders were evidently broad under a shirt that revealed just a whiff of chest hair – enough to put me into a fantasy through the rest of the car ride.

Had he been born into riches, better groomed in English and been fairer, he could have made a career as a model. Luckily for me, he was our driver for the time to come, and I got to spend a lot of time with him. I found out he was 26, married and had already fathered 2 kids in his village in North Haryana which he used to visit periodically.

I would usually sit in front with him, admiring his sinewy forearms with their nicely curled hair as he liked to keep his shirt’s sleeves rolled up. Maybe the best part about him was that he wasn’t arrogant about his looks. He is a genuinely a nice person, a skillful driver, and soon began doubling as a handyman for our house (a department, which I’m stereotypically very weak in). I was not (and am not) in love with him because I knew it was an impossible case, but that did not stop me from having wild fantasies about him.

One day, when my parents were away, he rang the bell early in the morning. Apparently, mom had asked him to fix some simple plumbing in my loo, which did not really need a plumber, and she’d forgotten to tell me about it. Entering the loo, he casually took his shirt off, presumably so it wouldn’t get wet. I saw him for the first time in a white vest, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

His chest hair popped out from under the vest – just the right amount – with his silver chain dangling over them. His well-formed biceps tightened as he worked the trap. He had told me he was athletic and still played cricket with the guys in the slum where he lived, but he could easily have given some of the guys in my gym a run for their money. Once again I wondered how he was not in much better circumstances.

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I was in the grip of such lust that I knew it was now or never. I wanted all of his clothes to come off. Hurriedly, I devised a very cliché plan. I went and got a glass of cola, pretending to sip it (I hate aerated drinks), and when I sensed he was about to get up I stood close behind him. As he got up and turned, the poor guy inevitably bumped into me and I ‘accidentally’ spilled the cola all over his vest. I began apologizing profusely but he told me not to worry and began putting on his shirt.

I said ‘Arrey Vikas, yeh kya kar rahey ho – shirt bhi kharaab ho jaayegi. Cola mein sugar hota hai. Mujhe apni baniyaan de do, mein isse wash karaa ke rakh doonga. Shirt upar se pehen lo’. He didn’t hesitate before taking off his vest and there it was finally for me in full glory – the most beautiful, lithe male torso I had seen in some time.

By now, the lust had me completely in its grip and I knew that I wanted him to fuck me on this day. Only, I didn’t know how. I put his vest in the washing basket, and before he could put his shirt back on I told him to go sit on my bed. I followed him and sat next to him.

‘Vikas, mujhe tum se kuch baat karni hai – agar tumhe lagey ki yeh galat hai toh please mujhe bolne se sharmaana mat’
‘Nahi Sir, aap please bolo’

I could not take my eyes off his beautiful chest with some sweat glittering lightly against the chest hair.

‘Mujhe pataa nahi ki tum jaanto ho yaa nahi, lekin kuch ladkon to ladkiyaan pasand nahi hoti. Unhe ladkey pasand aatey hain. Mein unmein se ek hoon’

I paused slightly, gathering more courage.

‘Mujhe tum bahut pasand ho Vikas. Tum bahut sundar ho aur bahut acchey bhi.’

He looked at me and I could make out that he was trying to hide his shock. I looked directly into his eyes and finally said it.

‘Vikas, mein tumhaarey saath sex karna chaahta hoon.’

At first, he just looked down. I could see that he was finding the right words to speak.

‘Sir, mein aapki baat samajh rahaa hoon. Mein jaanta hoon aisey laundon ko – hamaari colony mein bhi hain aise kuch. Lekin sir mujhe ladkiyaan hi pasand hain. Sir aap bhi mujhe bahut acchey lagtey ho lekin mein ladkon ke baarey mein aisey nahi soch sakta’

What a man, I thought to myself. How gracefully he took something that others might have reacted violently to in his place. It only made me more determined though, and I played my last card. I knew that for all his simplicity, he loved gadgets and wanted to buy the latest mobiles, speakers, TVs etc.

‘Vikas, buraa mat manna, lekin mein tumhein iskey badley mein 10,000 rupees de sakta hoon’.

I was pretty sure I’d hear more protest and I would offer to buy him a TV, but I was surprised when after some thought he said:

‘Sir, vaisey yeh bahut ajeeb hai aur mujhe pataa nahi mein kitna comfortable feel karoonga. Lekin try kar saktey hain. Aapko jitnaa theek lagey aap utna dena’

The power of money. I knew he was mine for the rest of the day. My parents wouldn’t come home for 2 more days and the maid had already left for the day. I tingled with excitement as I smiled at him, and for the first time did what I had been aching to do for so long – put my hand in his large, manly hands and stroked his beard lightly with the other. ‘Vikas, thank you. Tum dekhna, tumhey bhi mazaa aayega’.

I kissed him first on his beard. I was aching to feel his tongue inside my mouth but decided I would ease him into such extreme stuff later. He remained stiff as I continued to kiss and lightly bite other parts of his face, and nibbled on his perfect ears. My tongue then traveled down his neck, kissing him on his Adams apple. I pushed him down so he was half-lying on my bed, as I explored his chest.

I finally buried my face in his chest hair, smelling his musky scent. As I wildly licked his torso and chest hair, I could see his body loosening. Seeing him become more comfortable, I buried my nose in his armpit and spent a good 2 minutes licking the sweat and hair there. I then traveled down his treasure trail and back up where I finally smooched him as he opened his mouth.

I wouldn’t call him a great kisser, but he smelt good unlike what I had expected. I then unbuttoned his jeans, all the while looking at his handsome face. He was wearing checked boxers, and I could see that his penis was erect. I decided to tease him a bit and come back to it later. I took his jeans completely off and proceeded to satisfy my foot fetish. I got a tub of water, soap, and towel, and first cleaned his feet. I then took on his toes, taking my time to suck them. He was just so amazingly tasty.

Finally, I proceeded up to his lightly hairy and muscled legs till my nose was finally buried into his boxers. I could feel now that it was not just me, but also him who was waiting for this moment. With a quick tug, I took off his boxers to claim my prize. For the umpteenth time in the day, I was left breathless. It was the perfect penis, straight, hard, thick and decently long.

I just wanted to worship his manhood. Instead, I caught hold of it and began wildly sucking it. I just couldn’t get enough of it. My man finally began moaning in pleasure as I used my other hand to play with his balls. As I was deep-throating him, he yelled ‘Sir, mujhse aur control nahi hoga!’.

If he expected me to withdraw my mouth, he did not know that I had every intention of tasting his cum. I blew him even more determinedly till he exploded in my mouth – thick, stringy, salty and ample – just as I would hope a young guy from a Haryanvi village to come.

I finally withdrew my mouth, having swallowed all his cum, and asked him – ‘kyon, mazaa aaya?’ Something told me he had not been blown before – I wouldn’t be surprised if his wife didn’t blow him as many women I know hate giving blowjobs. He grinned at me sheepishly as I ruffled his hair. I gripped his penis, which had begun going limp.

‘Abhi iskaa kaam khatam nahi hua hai Vikas. Abh mein chaahta hoon ki tum mujhe chodho’.
‘Sir… woh bahut ajeeb ho jaayega. Woh rehne detey hain…’

But I knew that now I was in complete control. I wanted him inside me, and I wanted his hot manly seed inside my body. Heck if I were a woman there’s nothing I would have wanted at this moment more than having his child. I ignored his protest, took out a condom from the drawer and lovingly wrapped it around his tool.

‘Vikas, bas yeh imagine karo ki mein ek bahut hot girl hoon. Meri gaand ko ek fuddi samjho. Tumhe bahut mazza aayega. Try karo’

I realized how easily convinced he was in sexual matters – even by such ridiculous pitches. I took off all my clothes, my relatively small penis compared to his as erect as possible, and lay down on my stomach, in complete submission to him. I saw him hesitatingly lying on top of me. I could feel his warm chest hair on my back and his breath on my neck.

‘Vikas, zyaada socho mat – mere andar ghusaa do. Mujhe peeche se fuck karo.’ I quite enjoy anal sex and while his penis was large, I had accommodated much larger monsters before and knew that this would be far more pleasurable than painful.

Finally, he began sliding into me. Sloppily at first, but he quickly picked up rhythm and confidence. ‘Vikas, wahaan pe thooko. Easier rahega. Aur mujhe gaali do’. He complied, lubricating my asshole with his spit. ‘Saali maa ki lodi, amir baap ki randi, yeh leh chudh kutiya ki tareh’.

I knew that he could get macho when he wanted, but this wonderful guy meant none of this and this wanted to make me submit to him even more. I began moving in rhythm with him, till the whole room was exploding with us. This was the best sex I had had in probably years. His large hands held mine, till he finally climaxed inside me, and turned over, panting. I took my time to recover and snuggled into his armpit, playing with his chest hair, the realization finally seeping inside me that I had had sex with Vikas.

It was a dream afternoon. We were wrapped up like that for a couple of hours, my hand alternating between playing with his chest hair and chain, and stroking his beard. It then struck me that this is what I had been missing my whole life, the feeling of being with a man who would make love to me as I was his woman. I wanted to be Vikas’s wife.

‘Vikas, tumhari wife kitni lucky hai. Agar mein uski jagey hota to iss lund ki roz pooja karta’. He laughed but said nothing. I don’t think he wanted to talk about his wife’s sexual behavior. But he showed me a photo of hers – she was 23 and quite a beauty. I could imagine that they would have amazing sex.

It occurred to me that I could live this fantasy at least for the day. ‘Humney lunch nahi karaa. Accha mujhe batao tumhey kya pasand hai, mein tumhare liye banaoonga.’ He told me he liked most things, and we settled on parathas and egg bhurji. I put on the cricket match for him and went to the kitchen to cook. I am a good cook and was soon back with a tray of food for him.

As he lowered his hand, I caught hold of it. ‘Tum aaraam se match dekho. Mein tumhey khilaaoonga.’ I was full of love and devotion to his manliness in the moment, and I fed him the food. Once we were done, I again snuggled up to him and began playing with his manhood, which did not take too much time to become erect again. He fucked me for a second time that day, this time way more comfortable in the act.

As the sun was setting, we took a little nap. Then we woke up and I pulled him into the shower. I massaged his rough and strong back and shoulders with my Forest Essentials lotion, and then rubbed it onto his chest as it settled in foams on his chest hair. He didn’t really reciprocate my actions.

He had become interested In my hole as an object of fucking and my mouth as a tool to get blown but I could tell that he was otherwise not interested in my body, and that was OK for me given what I had accomplished today. I rubbed ourselves dry with one towel and looked up at him. He was smiling his devil’s smile.

I was amazed that he had figured by himself that I wanted one last hard fucking before he left for the day. This time he lifted me up easily in his strong arms, carried me to the bed, dropped me on it and expertly put on a condom. By now he had told me that he really enjoyed sex (with women) and he and his wife did it almost every day till he had to leave the village to come to Delhi.

So far he had stayed faithful to her, but on his visits back to the village they would do it almost twice every day. This time he held my hands firmly under his grip and facing me, he plowed into me till even I began to get sore.

This time, before coming, he took his dick out, took off the condom, and rubbing his cock till the climax, came over my face and chest, his forehead vein throbbing with his orgasm. I masturbated myself till I came, and I lay there, tired, covered in my man’s cum (it’s amazing how much he’d managed to produce in a day).

As he cleaned himself and put his shirt back on, I spoke to him from the bed. ‘Vikas, I know tumhari ek beautiful wife aur 2 bacchey hain, aur main tumhari family life ko destroy nahi karna chaahta. Mein yeh bhi jaanta hoon ki tum ek normal mard ho jisse ladkon mein koi interest nahi hai.

Lekin kya bass mahiney mein ek din, jaise aaj, kya hum yeh pretend kar saktey hain ki tum mere husband ho? Bass ek din har mahiney. Aur har mahiney mein tumhe 10,000 Rs. doonga. Hum woh ek din 5 star hotels mein bhi guzaar saktey hain.’ He didn’t say anything, but folding up his sleeves, he looked up at me, smiled his devil’s smile again, and left.

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