Ramu followed Vidya into the living room, and I was surprised to see him sauntering in as if it was his house. And then Vidya turned, and they embraced!
A pang of jealousy hit me as I saw his hands roaming all over her ass and squeezing her buttocks, while she hugged and kissed him, with her tongue deep inside his mouth. My surprise turned to arousal as Ramu reached up and squeezed Vidya’s tits. He unbuttoned her blouse and made Vidya raise her arms. The blouse was soon on the floor, with Vidya’s bosom hidden only by a small bra. My wife only threw back her head and purred as this lowly milkman continued to grope her chest. He then worked all over her, turning her around and kissing her buttocks, before playfully spanking them as Vidya laughed.
Watching the amorous couple make out, I realized they were very comfortable with each other. Ramu didn’t call Vidya the usual respectable ‘memsaab’ but was referring to her by name as he aggressively mauled her. Vidya also seemed very familiar with Ramu’s touch. As my dick surged, I realized they must have been having this affair for some time now. I wondered how many times they had done it on our bed.
What’s the matter with me, I scolded myself. My wife is making out with the milkman, and here I was, thinking about how many times he has fucked her. Instead of getting angry, I was getting aroused.
Finally, Vidya and Ramu took a breather.
“I will get you some tea, Ramu.” My wife offered.
“No, you vyabhichaarinee.” Ramu told her. He was actually insulting her in shuddh Hindi! “Vyabhichaarinee” actually meant a loose woman, or an adulteress. Ramu said it in a mocking manner. Then he reverted to a more crude term.
“Saali bhos (you cunt), I want you.” He grabbed at her boobs. Vidya playfully slapped his hands away.
“Later, Ramu. Let me go get some tea for you. I want to have some tea as well.”
Vidya left for the kitchen, and Ramu sat down on my sofa, picked up the remote, and switched on the TV. Here was my doodhwala, a guy whose social standing was way below mine, and he was sitting in my house, watching my television, while having just enjoyed the charms of my wife.
My mind was in a shock. What was happening? Was Vidya really having another affair? Why had she not told me about this?
Vidya soon returned with the tea.
“Milk?” She asked, bending over to pour some sweetener into the tea.
“Hold on.” Ramu lurched forward and grabbed her boobs. “Let this doodhwaala milk his favourite cow.”
He reached into her bra, fumbled, and gently popped out one of her breasts. He repeated the action with her other one, as Vidya froze in position, bent over, remaining still. Her boobs were now hanging out of her bra, swinging pendulously. Ramu squeezed one tit, and then the other one. He pretended to milk her breasts as one would milk a cow. I had my dick out of my pants and was rubbing myself as I watched the scene through my iPad.
So there was my wife, bent over, with her bare boobs being fondled by our milkman, and he was calling her a cow, pretending to ‘milk’ her, while she was laughing and enjoying (even playfully making “moo” sounds).
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