DIRTY BEGGARS WARM MY COLD WIFE’S PUSSY

I love to show off my beautiful wife. Even after 10 years of marriage at a age of 40 she is a stunner. No extra fat (except on her ample breasts), muscular and toned legs, and a fantastic set of ass to die for. She has flowing long hair which she never ties and they frame her face like a miasma of seduction.

I always encourage her to wear low cut blouses and sarees tied way below the navel. When she wears those tightly wrapped around sarees she looks like the ancient statues posing for kamasutra positions. I also encourage her to wear short skirts and tank tops especially when we are out of town and away from her prying friends and relatives.

Sometimes when we go out for a dinner or a drive, I ask her not to wear any bra and panty and at any given chance I finger her pussy and massage her breast to make her nipples hard. When her nipples are hard they stick out obscenely. And if I tweak her nipples long enough she gets so horny that she would agree to do anything I say.

Once I made her wear a white saree without any bra and panties and when we were strolling in a garden it started pour rain and in minutes she was drenched to the skin and her almost bare boobs were visible for anyone who care to see through her now transparent white blouse. She was dripping wet. Fortunately we were very close to the exit and ran out. However by the time we found a bus shelter we were both drenched. It was October, so the wind was slightly cold and it was already like close to midnight and she started shivering in cold. There was no one at the rather large bus shelter at this time of the night and our car was parked at the other end of the garden.

There were three wooden benches and as we moved to one of the seats I realized that there were two beggars sleeping behind the seats. The bus shelter had a wall towards the back so it was still dry and warm. Since the rain didn’t look like it was going to stop anytime soon, we moved to the back on one of the benches away from the splattering of rain and cuddled together for warmth.

I smoked a cigarette and though my wife doesn’t smoke, she took a few drags just to keep warm. Just then we saw one of the beggars peek from under his blanket. In normal circumstances this would be worst sight for us but in the shivering cold, even his raggedly blanket appeared super comfortable and cosy. But I don’t think we wanted to share his blanket. Instead, he extended his hand out and offered as a sip of his rum which he had been drinking straight from the bottle.

I was a bit hesitant as the beggar looked…well… like a beggar. He was about 60 years old and his hair was unkempt and matted with unwashed dirt. He looked like he hadn’t had a shower in ages. He stank of sweat and urine. His teeth were stained and there were dried drool marks on his cheeks. But his blanket still looked like a warm heaven. I was lost in these thoughts when my wet and shivering wife extended her shaking hand and took the beggars offering. She gulped two big sips of the dark rum and I could see some colour return to her cheeks. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and passed the bottle to me.

I imagined all the bacteria-infested saliva of the beggar around the bottle’s cap but took a swig. The golden liquid rushed through my throat burning the insides and bringing some warmth to my cold body. My wife was shivering uncontrollably again a few minutes later after the effects of the rum started to die.

“Do you want to come inside the blanket,” the beggar asked my wife, his tongue slurring with the effect of alcohol. My wife looked at me for approval and what was I to say in this condition so I nodded and took another gulp of rum. My wife started towards the beggar, when he almost screamed, “hey, hey woman what are you doing? You are dripping wet and if you come inside my blanket you will wet the entire thing and then even I will have nothing to warm up.”