Discrete Affairs Of Two South Indian Wives – Part 2

I was glad to see encouraging responses for my first report on my sex life and am encouraged to write some more. Those who have not read the first part, do read it before you continue because I will not be repeating what I wrote there again. So, here goes!

I and Padma had a wonderful morning with Rishi that morning and then went out for a non-veg lunch. Even though I and Padma were both traditionally pure vegetarians, wild sex always demands some meat afterward. So, we had our fill and all three came back to Padma’s place.

As soon as we latched the door, Rishi once again grabbed me fiercely and kissed me roughly in my mouth. I responded equally fiercely. The meat seemed to have aroused our animal instincts strongly! I was still in my jeans and tops. Rishi was similarly dressed.

Padma who had gone in after latching the door was puzzled why we did not follow her and came back to the hall. She was surprised to see us standing by the door and devouring each other’s mouths with hunger.

While going out for lunch, she too had changed into jeans and tops. Seeing us erotically engaged, she must have gone wild. She hugged me from behind and fondled my breasts over my top. Then she sat down.

Padma encircled my hips from behind and unzipped my jeans and pulled it down in one sweep. I lifted one leg after another to let her take it off.

She then peeled down my pantie and made my bottom nude. Then she walked around and did the same to Rishi and found his cock standing up like a flagpole.

She squeezed in between his legs and sat between us and started sucking him. Doubly aroused, Rishi went crazy. He took his mouth off my mouth pulled our tops and threw them away and ripped off my bra.

He was somehow more fascinated with me than with Padma whom he had been fucking regularly for some months now. Maybe it was the novelty. But Padma who was feeling a sense of ownership of Rishi must have felt jealous.

She stood up and tried to claim Rishi’s attention by kissing him. I do not know why he did it but he grabbed her by the hair and pushed her roughly aside and catching hold of my mangalsutra, dragged me to the bedroom by it.

The Rishi we saw in the morning was delicate and tender. This Rishi was different. A wild sexual animal. The moment we reached the bedroom, he threw me on the bed. And due to the movement, the yellow thread we south Indian women wear our mangalstura in got snapped. He took it and wrapped it around his cock and mounted me.

In one violent thrust, he was deep inside me with the mangalsutra dangling between our genitals, a symbol of my marriage being fucked by a passionate lover. It lolled back and forth like the limp impotent cock of my stupid husband, and I loved it! It drove me wild.

I pumped up with equal vigour and our fucking lasted for a little over 10 minutes this time. He streamed his semen deep into my unprotected womb like a hosepipe. I had orgasmed multiple times by the time he hosed me. So we lay back spent.

Padma had snuck back into the bedroom by then and was again attempting to suck Rishi. Perhaps because he was sensitive, he pushed her away.

The south Indian wife Padma turned her attention to me, burying her head into my soggy cunt and rubbing her face all over it, wiping it with her face and then licking my cunt hole. This aroused me.

I let her do it while I ran my fingers through Rishi’s hair affectionately and traced my fingers lightly over his face and lips, finally putting my finger into his mouth. He sucked it like a baby would suck a ///www.indiansexstories2.net/tag/nipples/”>nipple.

“What is your husband’s name?”, he asked suddenly.

“Gopalakrishnan”, I replied.

“Is he so bad on the bed? You were really hungry for cock”, Rishi laughed gently.

“Worse than bad”, I replied reaching down, looking for the ravished sodden mangalsutra and dangling it before him. “He was in the right place today to learn how a real fuck looks like”

Rishi laughed again. “Keep the damn thing with you. I will use it as a condom whenever I fuck you again.”

“Incidentally Rishi, I think you have impregnated me” I said.

“Get rid of it at the earliest. Or pin it on your husband.”

“But he never fucks me. He is not even in Delhi.”

“Then get rid of it” he said.

“As you say. There is no other way – Aaaaaaah” I said, as Padma’s tongue brought me to another orgasm.

Rishi turned his attention to Padma now.

“Oh my dear kitten, come up come up, let me fuck you too” and they started in earnest.

It was nearing 4 pm when we were done. We were all dressed and I had borrowed a yellow thread from Padma and tied the gold mangalsutra on to it and wore it. I was once again looking like a pious middle-aged south Indian auntie, with a big bindi and sindoor. We had a cup of south Indian filter coffee.

Rishi handed over a card and a roll of 2000 rupee notes into my hand discreetly. I looked at him with surprise.

“There is a phone number there. Call and get rid of this. Must not cost much but I have given you 20-22 thousand. Keep the rest.”

I and Rishi left together.

“I came by cab. If you have a car, can you drop me off at.. Metro station?” he asked. I had a car so I readily agreed.

As we were driving, he was gently running his hands over my thighs.

“Can I have your phone number?” he asked.

I handed him a card. He looked at it and put it into his pocket. “Expect a call from me anytime soon. We must repeat what we did today in more detail”, he said. My cunt throbbed.

I dropped him off, went home, bathed, changed to a saree and left for the nearby temple for the evening Bhajan.

The call came in about a week later. “Can I come tomorrow morning?” he asked. I was in my office. My heart was beating fast. There were people around me. I just said, “Hmmm”.

The next day was Saturday.

“Then text me your address to this number”, he said and cut the call.

I got up, went to the washroom and shut myself in. I frantically texted my address with directions to him.

The wait for tomorrow became unending. I was thrilled but also felt a bit guilty this time because we would be doing it on my bed in my home. I was the mother of a 23-year-old son Rahul who was doing his B.Tech in Noida and was staying there and Ananya a 13-year-old daughter. Should I be doing this at this age?

But what the hell! You only live once.

Saturday came and I woke up, had an elaborate bath and dressed in a light cotton saree with bra, panty, and petticoat inside. I applied light make up and perfume and wore the Mangalsutra and sindoor and waited for Rishi eagerly.

When the doorbell rang, I ran to open it. There he was, standing like a Greek god, muscles rippling.

He came in and I grabbed him like I was mad and started kissing him and biting him all over the face. This made him go wild too and this time I dragged him into my bedroom and pulled off his dress. My God! That divine cock!!

He undressed me slowly and erotically and without much foreplay, mounted me and inserted his cock into me. We were looking into each other’s eyes intensely as we fucked at a leisurely pace.

It was heavenly and we were so lost in it, so immersed only in the pleasure of our genitals that I did not notice the ///www.indiansexstories2.net/tag/bedroom/”>bedroom door open. When I did, it was Rahul, my son, standing there gaping at the sight of his mother being fucked vigorously by a man almost his age!

I went white in the face and collapsed. Sensing the sudden change in my mood and seeing the direction of my eyes, Rishi turned and saw Rahul standing at the door.

“Abey Rahul, tu yahan? Tujhe bhi deti hai kya yeh auntie”, Rishi asked Rahul.

To be continued.

If you liked this incident, let me know in the comments below so that I can continue to share the remaining experiences.