Afterwards, as they remained on bed entangled in each other’s arms, with his cum running down my wife’s thighs, Ramu ran his fingers through her hair and asked her, “Vidya, what will happen if your husband finds out I have been fucking his wife for the last couple of weeks?”
“Nothing.” Vidya answered. “He will realize how a proper man fucks his wife.”
Ramu grinned. “So you are going to tell him?”
“Oh no! He will never find out!” Vidya adamantly replied, knowing full well I was watching them from within ten feet away. “I have no intention of telling him.”
“Yes, but what if I tell him?” Ramu had a sinister smirk. He moved his body slightly, and his dick came out of my wife with an audible plop sound.
“No, you … won’t … please tell me you won’t.” Vidya pleaded with him, while starting to rub his now limp phallus. “Please don’t.”
“Why not?” Ramu was enjoying my wife begging him, and giving him a gentle hand rub while doing so. “I have seen how he behaves with me – as I don’t exist! I want to hold him by the collar and tell him, I am man enough to fuck your wife in your house, over and over, for many days! Oh he will like that!”
“No, please don’t do that.” Vidya was now licking his cum soaked member and cajoling him. “Please. He’s a nice, kind man and I don’t want to hurt him. Please.”
“Then I won’t fuck you again, randi.” Ramu decided. “I am not going to be your little toy coming here every day for your amusement.”
“No, no, no! Ramu, please don’t!” My wife tried to stop him as he stood up, his cock half erect. I marveled at his power, he had just dumped a gallon of cum in Vidya’s vagina, and here he was – Vidya’s sucking had managed to get him ready to go again. She was still pleading with him. “Please don’t say you will leave me, Ramu.” She started to cry. “I need your cock in me. Please.”
“Ok, kutti.” Ramu sat back down on the edge of the bed and caught hold of a crying Vidya. Holding her firmly by her hair, he made her get down from the bed and kneel down in front of him. Vidya chocked back her sobs and looked up at Ramu in apprehension. Her mouth was now level with his cock. She gave it a small kiss.
I admired Ramu’s position. He was just an ordinary milkman, who in his life probably never had fucked someone as fair skinned or as high class a woman as Vidya. And here he was, with admirable self-control, having a woman like Vidya at his mercy, begging with him, cajoling him, all to get laid.
SLAP!
SLAP!
Without warning, Ramu slapped my wife hard, twice. I was surprised to see him do that, but Vidya didn’t even flinch. It looked like she was used to being used as a mere object of pleasure by this blue collar man, and she was relishing it.
“Admit it, saali,” He told her roughly, slapping her again and again. “You are a slut and you need my manhood.”
“Yes. Sob! I need you in me, Ramu. Sob! I need a real man’s meat inside me. I am a slut.”
“OK.” Ramu decided, “I won’t tell your husband, and I will keep you on as my rakhail (mistress). But rakhails have to do what their master tells them to do.”
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