My Indian Wife Vidya

My name is Rajesh and I am married to my sweetheart Vidya. We have a one year old son Aakash and soon (in a month), we would be celebrating our sixth wedding anniversary.
It was past 10.30 at night, and my son was asleep in his room. Vidya was lying on the bed reading, and I was working on my laptop on a project.
“Oh my fat lover,” Vidya called out from the bed. “Leave your laptop and come here. I need a good lick and then a good fuck.”
That was one great thing I loved about Vidya. Sex with her was very efficient. She was explicit and blunt about her needs. A nymphomaniac by nature, she would tell you exactly what she wanted to you do — no hunting around for “subtle hints”.
“Yes, darling.” Obediently, I shut my laptop and stood up. Walking over and standing beside the bed, to her left, I started to undress. My shirt came off first, followed by my watch. I then reached down and unbuckled the belt. Rolling down my jeans to my ankles, I stepped out of my pants. Vidya caught hold of the waistband of my underpants, slowly pulling them down. My small penis sprang free and hit her in the face. She laughed, and continued to roll down my underwear until I was completely naked.

You see, one year into our marriage, Vidya had implemented the Clothed Female Naked Male policy. That meant that whenever we would retire for the night, or get into bed for sex, I would have to completely strip before I was even allowed to get into the bed. Vidya, on the other hand, could be wearing whatever she wished. Tonight, Vidya was wearing a pink negligee of translucent material, which covered her till her knees.
Let me briefly describe our physical appearances here. I am thirty four years of age, and Vidya is thirty two. I am your typical average height and built. Though physically healthy and fit, I have a paunch around my tummy area — that Vidya had recently started to make fun of. She would lovingly call me “Fatty, come here” or “Oh my fat lover, suck my vagina”, and so on. My penis isn’t anything to write home about either — Vidya calls it ‘small, cute and functional’. My wife, of course, has seen and played with much larger cocks than mine. I am a shy, introvert, bookish kind of guy who was a virgin until our wedding night.
Vidya, on the other hand, is my polar opposite. She remained completely physically fit, even after her pregnancy. She exercised religiously, and at 5’8″ was taller than most Indian women. She was very proud of her curves, with humongous breasts (28DD), wide hips, a broad ass, and a fleshy, milky white, well-toned tummy. And yes, to say she was sexually active before our marriage was understating it — her legs were open to anyone she fancied. Students, professors, janitors, labourers, accountants, and even a pujari — almost someone from every profession had deposited their semen in her cunt.
I snuggled against Vidya and hugged her tightly. My tongue found her lips and we kissed deeply, exploring each other’s mouths with passion. She moved her arms around my back, and slowly, gingerly, caressed my behind. Then she smacked my bum.
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
I started to slide against her body, slowly going down on her. My face came to her breasts, as I licked each nipple and sucked on them gently. She pushed my head down further as I inserted my tongue into her navel and covered her tummy with kisses. I rubbed my face against her inner thighs as her pubic hair hit my nostrils. She wasn’t wearing panties. My tongue flicked out as I started to lick her clitoris.
“Mmmmm… mmmm…” Vidya grabbed my ears with either hand and started to twist them, as she moaned and writhed with pleasure. “Oh, fatso! Keep doing it, my love, oh my!”
My face was now between into her thighs, and she was gushing like a waterfall. Each lashing of my tongue provoked further moans of ecstasy and secretions of her love juice. My face was now glistening with her dampness. I kept inserting my tongue into the folds of her vulva and swirling it around her love hole. With a final shriek, her body arched and she started to cum.
“OH MY GOD! OH YES! OH YES!” Gripping my head in a vice-lock with her thighs, and holding my ears firmly in her hands, Vidya bobbed up and down in the throes of her orgasm. Finally, after oozing out huge amounts of wetness, she subsided.
“Wow.” She remarked, finally catching her breath. “Good job, fatty. Come here. Let me reward you.”
I crept up her body. She cupped my wet face in her hands and kissed me. While I lay passively there, Vidya licked the base of my mouth and deep French-kissed me, rolling her tongue into me. Bending down one hand, she grabbed hold of my rigid shaft and started to stroke me.
“Ready to put your little dickie into use, darling?” She asked me, with a coy smile.
“Yes, dear.”
“Would you like to put your small wee wee into my pussy, dear, or my butt?”
“Whatever gives you the most pleasure, darling.”
Vidya seemed to consider my answer for a while, before she slowly raised her hand to my face and gingerly rubbed my cheeks. Grimacing, I got ready for what was coming.
SLAP!
SLAP!
SLAP!
Vidya slapped me again, and again, and again. My cheeks flushed bright red, partly from the pain, partly from shame as my Indian wife, who is supposed to respect her husband, slapped me endlessly. Finally, she decided I had enough, and then she made me slowly suck her nipples. Vidya then grabbed my hand and led it to her love tunnel. She was leaking again! Slapping me had gotten her off. I slowly fingered her to her second orgasm of the night. Writhing, thrashing around, she moaned until the peak of her sexual excitation subsided.
“Oh, honey!” She gushed, covering me with kisses at the exact same spot as where she had slapped me momentarily ago. “You are the best husband I could ever have wanted!”
“Thank you, Vidya.” I swelled with pride. I may have had a small penis, but I kept her happy.
“Most men I have been with have just used me as a piece of ass to pump their meat into.” Vidya was effusive in her praise. “Yet you! You are the most submissive husband I could have ever dreamed off. You give me pleasure, the way I want it, and you treat me gently, like a lady, not a slut, and you just obey, no questions asked.”
“Thank you, Vidya.”
Vidya continued to rub my penis up and down before answering, “Right now, as your reward for pleasuring me, you will get to fuck me, darling. Then, if you can get it up again, my husbandji, my ass is open for business.”
“Thank you, dear.”
Vidya sat up in bed. “Fatty, I will be right back.”
“Yes, dear.” I wondered what was up as Vidya got out of bed and walked over to the cabinet. As she opened the cabinet door, she jiggled her body so that her negligee slipped off her shoulders and onto the floor. Now the only piece of cloth remaining on her firm, juicy body was her bra.
“Honey, let’s watch this movie. You can cum in me after that.” Vidya had grabbed a DVD and inserted it into the player. She grabbed the remote and switched on the TV before flopping down next to me on the bed. “It’s the G and V show.”
“Oh,” I realized which DVD she had put in. “Is this the edited or the unedited one?”
Vidya grinned. “Uneditted.” She snuggled against me, one hand around my neck and one hand on my prick, and the video started to play.
A naked woman came on screen, her back to the camera. The view focused on her gyrating, fleshy buttocks. I knew who that woman was, of course. I have seen this video millions of times. It was Vidya, from two years ago.
The onscreen Vidya was now dancing to some music, swinging her expansive hips to the tune. The camera then showed a man, sitting on the bed, watching her. He was naked too. I also knew who this man was — he was my former boss, Gaurav.
Gaurav sat on the bed, in the buff, with a beer in his hand, watching my equally naked wife dance. We could see him stroke his hard, rigid, monster cock with one hand. He then leaned forward and smacked Vidya on her butt. It was a resounding smack, and the slap left a red handprint on Vidya’s left butt cheek. Non-plussed, she continued to dance.
“He really loved spanking my ass.” Vidya told me, as she nibbled my ear while we watched her get spanked, again and again and again, on the video. “Gaurav fucked me several times daily, and almost every time we had sex he would spank my buttocks. Oh, he was not gentle with me at all.”
On screen, Vidya was now gingerly rubbing her very sore, and very red, ass. She then turned back to look at the man who had just thrashed her ass — and manage a smile. Gaurav laughed cruelly and told her to get in position again — the spanking wasn’t over.
“He loved using me as a 50-rupee-whore.” Vidya told me, stroking my hardness, as her onscreen version lay over Gaurav’s knees while he raised a hand and struck her butt cheeks, again and again. “It was very exciting for him that you, his employee, was away working for him, he was in your house, in your bed — using your wife as a fuck toy and cum dump. Oh, the things he made me do in those 5 days!”
Gaurav then pulled her sharply to him and made her sit on his lap. His hands went to her breasts, pinching and kneading them, while he rubbed his hardness against her clit.
“Look how rough he was with me.” Vidya told me, “You are so tender, so gentle, and you listen to me and obey me. Whereas your boss pretty much used me like a rag doll, to serve him as he wished. If he wanted to spank me, I would bend over and present my bottom. If he wanted a blow job, he would snap his fingers and I would be at his feet, taking his cock in my mouth. And if he wanted to fuck me, he just grabbed me and did it — whether it was my cunt or my ass, he was a brute — a real man’s man.”
As she spoke, Vidya turned herself around. Her mouth was now on my dick, while her pussy was in front of my face. It was a classic 69 position. I kept licking her choot (cunt in Hindi) as she sucked my member into rigid hardness. Vidya was now cumming again. We both kept an eye on the video.
Gaurav now had Vidya on the bed, on her hands and knees, as he got behind her. He was going to ride her, Rockygy style. Once again, with her buttocks on display, he couldn’t help himself, and Vidya got a couple of sharp slaps to her ample derriere. The camera showed her grimace, but she held her position.
“If I moved, that was extra slaps.” Vidya told me, as her own screen version’s ass had crimson marks across it. Gaurav laughed, and then used his hands to part Vidya’s buttocks so that her asshole was clearly visible. He then spit into her ass a couple of times.
The man who used to be my boss then spit on his own hands and rubbed his monster dick. He was using his own saliva as a lubricant as he positioned the bulbous head of his cock against Vidya’s ass. Slowly, he started to push his huge rod inside her.
“Oh, Sir! My ass! Ooooh, it hurts, Sir! Aaaah!” Vidya cried out as Gaurav, with a firm grip on her buttocks, pushed his dick, inch by inch, into her ass. He repeatedly thrust in and out of her while Vidya continued to moan, half in pain, half in pleasure.
“Sir, please Sir, cum in me, oh Sir!”
Finally, I could see Gaurav’s butt cheeks clench, as emptied his cum into her.
Vidya got off my body, paused the video to a shot that showed her on screen version screaming in ecstasy, turned around to face me and asked, “Hubby, ready?”
“Yes.” I answered her, my cock erect.
Vidya lied down on her back and spread her legs. I climbed over her, and in one move plunged my hardness into her. I was completely aroused seeing Gaurav maul her butts, so a couple of strokes and I exploded in her.
As I laid back and caught my breath back, Vidya hugged me tightly and whispered, “That scene always makes you so hot, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.” I admitted. “The way he used you, and ripped you apart with his huge prick, and you begged for more; I loved watching that part.”
Vidya nodded. “Darling, he used your wife like a real man — something you can never do. It’s bound to turn someone like you on.”
Vidya had never cheated on me — except once. It was two years ago, and it was with my (former) boss Gaurav. It had been a one-off situation where she had to go to bed with him to save my job. For a week she had been his sex toy, fucked in every hole and used in every way sexually as possible. I had kept my job. Now Gaurav was gone, and I was promoted to his position, and it had all turned out well.
I then blurted out something that I had been thinking for some time.
“Vidya, sweetheart, I would love to watch you again with someone.”
Shit! I thought, what am I saying?
We both knew that the idea of someone else fucking my wife turns me on. But, save for a desperate situation with Gaurav, Vidya has never cheated on me, and now I was telling her I would love to see her screw around with another man, where there was no need to do so.
For a minute, Vidya was quiet. Was she angry?
“Are you … sure?” She finally asked. She wasn’t angry! I thought I detected a curious (and hopeful?) tone in her voice.
“I …” I decided to come clean to Vidya. That was one of the advantages of being a submissive husband. I could tell her any time what’s on my mind. I didn’t have any ego or false bravado to live up to — Vidya knew I was no macho man and I didn’t have to pretend. I could just surrender to her completely, and let her make the decisions. It was very liberating.
“You know I love you completely, Vidya.” I told her, as she nodded and kissed me in acknowledgement. “I could never bear the loss of losing you; of not having you in my life. But sometimes, when I think of what Gaurav did to you, that whole week, and sometimes, when you tell me about your previous boyfriends, I really … want to see you with … another man.”
“I see.” Vidya had now taken my flaccid member in her hand and was gently rubbing it, knowing I was now in a vulnerable position. “Go on, my dearest.”
“So I was thinking, if you … if you … did it with someone …”
“You mean fuck another man on your marital bed? Cuckold you? Have another young, big, dick in my pussy?” Vidya was smiling like the cat that got the cream.
“Forget it.” I realized it was a bad idea. “I am sorry I put you through that, darling. Please forgive me. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Yes, yes. It’s better to forget it.” Vidya seemed lost in thought. Then she turned her attention to another matter. “Let’s get you up again, fatty. My ass still needs a cock — no matter how small.”
“Yes, dear.”
Vidya forwarded the video to a section where Gaurav was eating her out on the sofa, before slapping her face several times, and finally giving her a good fuck. A few minutes later, I was hard enough to cum in Vidya’s buttocks. Vidya often let me cum in her ass, as my small dick did not cause her much pain. After kissing each other good night, with the smell of semen all over the room, we both fell asleep.
I forgot our conversation as work kept me busy, and Vidya too was involved with an interior decorating course she was taking from home. I wanted to plan a weekend getaway for our anniversary, but my wife wanted to stay home. She told me to leave all planning to her; she would pick out a nice restaurant and so on. I gratefully acquiesced.
Soon, it was the day of our anniversary. It was a Tuesday, and I was at work. Around 10.30 in the morning, just when I was having my coffee break, Vidya called me.
“Honey!” She was panting. “Can you take the rest of the day off and come home?”
“Vidya! Is everything OK? Why are you panting?”
“No … no … everything is fine.” Vidya gasped. “I am just … masturbating.”
“Oh.” Was the only thing I could say at my wife’s behavior.
“So, this is what I want you to do.” Vidya instructed me. “Come home around 12 sharp. I will be going out soon, dropping our son at my mom’s.” Vidya’s widowed mother lived just down the street, and every morning Vidya dropped our son off at her place so she could go to the gym or go shopping. “And so the house will be empty. Do you understand?”
I was the VP of a multinational firm, so of course I understood this simple instruction.
“Yes, dear. I will go to our house at 12 noon sharp.”
“Good. Now fatso, listen to me carefully.” Vidya’s voice almost dropped to a whisper. “You will enter the house, and go up to our bedroom. Remember the huge walk in closet you were hiding and watching me as Gaurav pounded me, again and again, with his giant cock? Good! You will hide there, close that door. Take your iPad with you too — the one that has the camera app.”
“Yes, dear.” I wondered what elaborate scheme Vidya was planning. She sometimes had this sexual role play games that she made me participate it, which were quite detailed. I wondered if she was planning something similar to those.
“Ah! Ah! Ah! Harder! Harder! Ah!” Vidya was now screaming into the phone. No doubt, she was fingering herself to an orgasm.
“Ok! Where was I?” Catching her breath, Vidya continued. “So yes, you will remain hiding in that closet like the little fucking pervert you are.”
My dick was rising at the condescending tone Vidya was using towards me, and at the noises of her orgasm.
“Now, listen to this, honey. This is important. NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS, YOU WILL REMAIN INSIDE THE CLOSET until I specifically, remember, SPECIFICALLY, ask you to come out. Do you understand?”
“Yes, dear.” My cock was now erect, wondering at the “no matter what happens” part. What did Vidya have in mind?
Soon, I took half the day off work and left, timing it so that I came home just around noon. Vidya and my son was nowhere to be seen. The house was freshly cleaned (Vidya could be a finicky cleaner when in the mood), and our bedroom was also properly made up. I took my iPhone with me, grabbed a stool and entered the huge walk-in closet of our bedroom. Placing the stool so I could sit and watch all the action on the bed through a crack on the closet door, I sat down and turned on my iPad.
In addition to viewing the bed through that crack, I could also see it on my iPad. Two years ago I had installed secret cameras in the bedroom and in the living room, and they were all wirelessly connected to my iPad. Those cameras helped me tape Vidya and Gaurav’s affair, which we edited and gave anonymously to Gaurav’s fiancée — the daughter of the owner of the corporation I worked for. Our plan worked perfectly — Gaurav was fired and I took his place. I switched on the iPad now, plugged in my headphones so I could listen, and switched to our living room camera.
I could hear a voice. Yes, Vidya had just entered our home, and someone seemed to be with her. I could hear a man’s voice! Vidya soon came into the living room, and thus on my screen. I could see she was wearing a simple blue sari, wrapped nonchalantly around her body, with her waist and navel exposed. Her blouse was a small, low cut one, giving anyone a good view of her ample cleavage. Her hair was rolled up in a bun at the top of her head. Vidya’s guest followed her into the living room. My jaws dropped in shock.
It was our doodhwaala Ramu! Our milkman! Ramu was a low-class labourer who went door to door on our street every morning delivering fresh milk to the housewives. What was he doing here? His delivery time should have been in the morning, I thought.