A helpful Husband

I Am A Helpful Husband

Characters: Husband (me) Kapil, Wife Pooja, Mother Rani, Servant Devraj

--short Dev

English is my second language; please pardon my errors.

Chapter 1: Coming to America

My name is Kapil. I am 28 and I am from India. It has been five years

that I migrated to USA. I had been busy exploring the new world and

settling down. I built a home in the southwest on a 10 acre property. Now

that the initial excitement is over and I have settled down I found myself

lonely with nothing at hand to do. Because of the estates I inherited from

my father I don't have to work so you can imagine I have abundant free time

at hand. I started to think more and more of my life back home in India.

The village I used to live in was like stuck 100 years back in the past.

We have vast lands and farms with scores of servants working under our

family for generations. Our immediate family lives in a fortress-like

home. The home has extensions which houses my extended family like uncles,

aunts, grandparents and cousins etc. This complex is then surrounded by an

irregular circle of all sorts of living quarters for dozens of farmers and

servants whose livelihood depends on us.

Our family was very traditional with one exception -- my mother had the

final say in everything. She was very loving to everyone, very caring.

Once one of our farmer's wife died; he was devastated beyond description --

that is what mother said. Then mother let him sleep with her in her bed

for more than a month. My father had to spend all those nights right on

the edge of the bed; he even fell a couple of times. Mother said we always

should help the poor. Then my mom let the farmer go when he was fully

relieved of his grief.

I started thinking about starting my own family. " I think I should

marry someone from my own village. Someone very gentle, caring and giving,

innocent, untarnished." I immediately phoned my mother; within a week she

had the right girl for me. Her name was Pooja. We married in a rush using

telephone and courier to exchange documents and I sponsored her to come to

America to live with me; my mother came along to help me in my new life. I

had two surprises at the airport. One -- I saw one of our villagers,

Devraj, carrying luggage following my new wife and mother. He was one of

the older family servants but mostly used to work on farms. He was getting

old -- in his 50's but looking a few years older. Tall, dark-skinned but

skinny, somewhat malnourished. He used to walk with giant leaps with his

long legs. The other surprise --- my mother was carrying five year old

girl. She was walking ahead of Pooja and Dev in the airport arrival

terminal, her left breast hanging out while the girl was suckling on it.

The girl was irritable probably because of the long journey; mother was

holding her left breast close to the nipple with her right hand slightly

squeezing the nipple between her index and middle finger and fruitlessly

trying to place the nipple in the her mouth. The girl was shaking head

back and forth causing the nipple to squirt drops of milk all around. My

mind raced to my past. I have suckled on these nipples countless times,

not only when I was a baby but also more recently. Mum says maternal milk

is better than any other tonic in the world. When I used to come back from

a game or after a long business trip, I would always find my mother

standing in the front courtyard with her boobs hanging down with the weight

of the milk ready for me to suck on. Sometimes me and my father would

suckle on each breast after combined business trip. Mother had to keep up

her milk production as we were eight brothers and sisters plus my father;

on top of that mum would help poor servants once in a while after they were

very exhausted working in hot weather. She would let them suck on her

nipples for a few minutes while she was supervising their work. Sometime

she would ask one of the farmers rub her in between her legs; mum says it

makes her produce more milk.

My thoughts were interrupted by my mum's familiar voice. I wanted to

hug my new wife standing close by but she was shy being in public. I

grabbed some of the luggage, stuffed everything in a taxi and got everyone

home. In the taxi my mum introduced the girl to me as my sister born soon

after my departure for US five years ago. I always have thought very

highly of my mother but the arrival of this new girl made me immensely

proud to have a very fertile mother who never gets tired.

Next morning everyone woke up late. Pooja had been asleep all night

like a kitten; I did not disturb her as I knew she was very tired after the

long journey. In our bedroom Pooja was sitting in the reclining chair

gazing through the windows into the backyard while I was reading newspaper.

Suddenly I saw an uneasiness in her eyes; I followed her gaze and saw

our servant Dev in the backyard standing close to a flower bed. He had

removed his sarong (piece of cloth used instead of a trouser) and was

standing legs comfortably parted. He was holding his dick at its base

peeing into the flower bed. Beyond his fist his dick was hanging further

out and down ending at the abundant foreskin which was hanging loose; a

forceful stream of piss jetting out. The veins on his dick were shining in

the early morning sun. Two heavy balls hanging low in his long and large

wrinkly nut sack were jiggling sideways as he was easing himself over the

rocks spread around the newly landscaped area.

Pooja, while holding one end of her long sari (indian dress) ran to the

backyard. For the first time I had a good look at her. She was a few

inches taller than me and had a slender frame but had a big booty -- a

little too big; someone else might even call it oddly big. When she would

run her hips sway sideways while jiggling at the same time creating a scene

from which you can't take eyes off. I rushed behind her. She ran straight

to Dev who was still pissing. "What are you doing Dev? You ruined all the

flowers. Tell your pee thing to stop." Dev's pee stream stopped. Pooja

held him by his wrist and led him inside. I was following. She continued

to talk. "Don't you know flowers are living things and you can't pee on

them. Let me show you where to pee. I am sorry if I scared you. Did your

pee thing get hurt when you had to stop peeing?" Dev nodded his head in

affirmative. With that my wife felt so guilty. She looked at me for help.

Then said sorry to Dev and held the base of his dick with her two fingers

to help his pain. They were ahead of me. I could see from behind Dev's

two heavy balls still jiggling and swaying. Pooja's hips were swaying in

harmony as well.

She led him to our master bath still holding his large beef-stick with

her two fingers and stood him by the toilet. "Ok now, pee in this thing.

It is called a toilet". Dev wouldn't pee. His dick twitched a couple of

times and became semi-hard. "Why are you not peeing now. Tell your big

pee thing to start again." She looked at me for help. I went closer and

kneeled down. Pooja was already on her knees on the floor. Now she was

holding the old man's dick which was now between my and her face. She

moved it closer to me asking what to do. I saw the foreskin peeling

backward and the big mushroom like head popping out. Pooja looked worried

thinking she had hurt his dick. She really wanted to teach him how to pee

in a civilized way. Dev said, " Pooja Ji ( Ji is a word indicating respect

), may be if you shake my dick, it might start peeing". Pooja still

holding the base of his dick in her two fingers started shaking it side to

side. We were not suspecting this but his plum like dick head hit my face

then Pooja's while she was waving it. She seemed not to care. She had her

eyes focused on pee-hole eagerly waiting for the piss stream. Dev's dick

continued to get slapped on her face. Still looking worried she said, "

Look Kapil, it looks like I did something terribly wrong. First he was

unable to pee and now the head of his pee thing has grown bigger; the whole

thing is hard. It is even twitching. I don't know what to do?" Then she

answered herself, "may be if I squeeze his hanging sac the pee would come

out". She cued me to hold the 12 inch dick while she started fondling the

nut sac. I started rubbing Dev's dick trying to cure it while Pooja was

pulling on the nut sac. Then she paused; I saw her carefully palpating her

discoveries -- the two balls. She was deeply involved. She held the two

balls, then rubbed them together; then held his nut sac towards the top and

shook the balls side ways. She continued to fondle his balls in all

possible ways she could think of; then took his dick back from my hand and

expressed her new idea, " Kapil, can you please piss in the toilet to show

him how to pee?" I felt embarrassed deep inside but couldn't say anything.

I unzipped my pants and took my penis out. It was about a quarter the size

of Dev's. I pulled on my dick a couple of times but it wouldn't get hard.

But I did the job; I started peeing right away. Pooja got excited, and

started rubbing Dev's cock more forcefully and encouraging him at the same

time, " look Dev, look look; this is how you pee in a toilet. See how your

boss is doing. Come on, you can do it. I am sorry I caused all this

trouble for you. I am sorry.". Poor Dev; I felt sorry for him too. For

no fault of his he had to go through all this. Then he said, " Pooja ji if

you don't mind can I say something." "yes of course". " Pooja ji, you

rubbed my dick so much it has gotten dry. Can you please spit on it." My

wife immediately responded and started spitting along the length of his

dick, then rubbing her spit all over it. But it would get dry again, so

she started rubbing it with her tongue instead of her hands. I was

impressed with her talents. I thought not only she is so caring and giving

she also seemed to have natural nursing skills. My wife's ideas seemed to

be working. Dev's started to growl and encouraged my wife to continue

licking his dick. Then he surprised me when he started saying bad words

for my wife. I don''t know why. She was helping him but he said things

like she was a dick sucking slut, a whore and a bitch to be fucked. He

even said he would fuck her in her ass. I think he momentarily became

delirious because of pain or something. Then he held my wife from her hair

and directed her mouth so she could also wet his nut sack. She eagerly

started sucking his balls holding each one between her lips and pulling

down until it would pop out. Then suddenly he howled like a mad man and

thick ropes of dick juice started coming out of his pee hole and landed in

the toilet. He continued to express his desire to fuck my wife in her ass.

After that he seemed to calm down and came to his senses. My wife was

finally happy to have cured him. We left him there with instructions for

chores around the house and proceeded to kitchen to get some breakfast.

Later that evening I was sitting in the family room by the fireplace

while my wife, Pooja, was sitting beside me. She was recollecting what

happened that morning.

Thank you Kapil, for helping me fixing Dev's dick by peeing in front of

him.

Oh, that's okay.

But tell me, why his pee thing is so long and big and yours is small.

It is not called a pee thing; it is called a dick or cock. Also penis.

Okay, but why is yours smaller than his?

I don't know; I guess not all men are born equal.

Will yours grow bigger when you reach his age?

No; I don't think so. This is the maximum for me.

You are lucky, Kapil. You have a small protected penis. Poor Dev. His

is so big and long. I bet when he

is walking around his cock is getting hurt by slapping on his thighs or

even bumping into furniture and

cabinets. And his thighs are so hairy. I wonder if his cock will get

all scratched.

Yeah, may be.

And he has to be careful with his hanging balls too. They might get

caught in the holes in his charpai

(traditional indian bed made of ropes).

Don't worry honey. There is no charpai in America. He left his in

India.

Still.... but what was he saying about fucking my ass? What does that

mean?

I think he wanted to put his dick into your ass.

You mean, my shit hole.

Yes.

Really! Why? Why would he want to do so?

I don't know for sure but may be his thinking was not straight at that

time as he was embarrassed. You

were making him to pee in front of us all. Or may be he was happy with

you helping him and he just

wanted to express what he could give you in return. Poor thing. He has

no money; what else he can

offer except his cock. And he has no education so these were the best

words he could come up with. I

apologize if you found him rude.

Mother, who was sitting close by on the kitchen table, was listening to

our conversation, came over to

join us. She brought cups of tea and put them on the coffee table. She

put the little girl (she was named

Raveena) in the play area, pulled her left boob out and hanging over the

coffee table squeezed her

boob to pour milk in the cups. Then she came over to me saying that I

had become so weak from

eating foreign food; she pulled out her other breast and asked me to

suck on it. While I started feeding

on her boob she sat besides me.

She explained to my wife: Sometimes men want to do this for a change.

They just want to explore

women's assholes. We in our family always try to help the needy, the

poor and the ailing. If we could

help someone, then it is good for everyone. I am glad what you did this

morning. First you saved the

flowers from Dev's pee and then educated him on how to pee in a

civilized way. You also did a great

job fixing his aching dick by sucking on it and on his balls. As far as

my son's small dick is concerned,

it runs in the family.

I continued to suck on mum's nipple.

Pooja: I fee so sorry for Dev. But I am glad at the end he felt better.

I am afraid it might hurt his dick

again if I let him put it in my ass. And I don't even know if it would

go in. It is so big and I have never

done this before. I don't know.

Mother: Don't worry; that is why I came with you. Dev used to work on

the farms not inside our house

in India, so I don't know him much. I don't know how much he likes

fucking assholes or how many

times he has done this in the past. But we will see.

Pooja turning to me: Kapil, I never knew these things before. Now that

Dev wants to put his cock in my

ass to express his gratitude, what do you think I should do? If I say

no would I hurt his feelings?

Me: It is possible. He is new in this country and left his wife and

kids back in India. In a sense he came

all the way just to help us. And he is lonely here. All these things

can make a person emotionally weak.

Your "no" might disturb him to say the least.

Mother: We should try our best not to say no. This is against our

family values of good will to all

humans and living things. And plus there is no downside to having

someone's dick in ass. Lots of

people do it for pleasure but you, Pooja, will be doing it for a higher

purpose.

Me: But Mommy she is my new bride and I have not even had any sex with

her yet. And I too am

worried about the size of Dev's cock. It might be very painful to have

Pooja's ass stretched with that

thing.

Pooja: I am not worried about my suffering. But I am concerned Dev's

dick might feel squeezed and get

hurt while probing into my shit hole.

Mother: My son, you will have your bride for you all your life. But the

issue at hand is serious. We

cannot afford to hurt anyone's feeling and Dev is our own and only

servant. And if Pooja's ass feels a

little pain it is still worth a good cause. And Pooja to answer your

question, I am sure Dev would be

able to stretch your ass enough to make things easy for this dick. And

in fact many men feel happy

when their dick get squeezed in an asshole.

Pooja: Is that right? Kapil, will you enjoy if you put your penis in my

ass?

Me: Hmm, I never thought about that before.

Mother: Every man is different, Pooja. Different things make them

happy. Some of them like licking

their wives' pussies. Some even like to see their wives suck other

men's dicks.

Pooja: Kapil, did you like when I sucked on Dev's dick?

Me: It certainly was interesting.

Mother: He certainly liked it. He is just being shy. I can see it in

his eyes. But at this time we should

check on Dev to make sure he has healed well from this morning accident.

Then she shouted: Dev come here.

By now I had stopped sucking on mother's nipple and was snuggled close

to her. I love her warmth.

Dev came and sat on the ground obediently.

Mother: Pooja told me what happened this morning. Are you okay now?

Dev: Yes, just a little redness and soreness on my balls but otherwise I

am fine.

Mother: I need to check; ultimately I am responsible for what happens

here.

Dev took off his sarong and stood in front of mum and me, for mum to

examine him. Mother looked

happy and worried at the same time. She held his massive meaty dick

which was now limp. She closely

examined it up and down and then resting it on her shoulder started to

examine his balls. She fondled

his balls, rubbed them and kept on pulling and releasing them for quite

some time. Since I had my head

resting on mum's shoulder, Dev's dick was right in front of me. It

smelled of sweat and piss. It was

twitching slightly in response to mother's examination.

Finally mum said, " On the whole he is okay however, there seems to be

some early skin damage

reflected by the redness of the foreskin. Pooja, did you suck a lot on

the foreskin?"

Pooja: Yes aunty; I was just trying to help.

Mum: That is okay. Next time if this happens just pull the foreskin

back and lick on the head of the

dick. The head can sustain more trauma.

Pooja: Ok aunty.

By now my little sister, Raveena, had come over to us and was looking at

Dev's dick with interest. Mum

held her tiny hand and put Dev's cock in her hand. Mum said, " Raveena,

take Dev to Pooja so she can

see the damage." Raveena holding Dev by his dick led him to the other

sofa where Pooja was sitting. It

was quite a scene. My five year old sister holding our fifty four year

old servant by his dick walking him

across the family room to my wife so she can examine his hurt dick.

Pooja caressed the foreskin and apologized to Dev one more time.

Raveena, copying my wife, started

playing with Dev's dick.

Mum: In order to avoid further damage, Dev will not wear a sarong or

trousers or underwear etc. In this

way, fresh air will heal his dick. This is like his own home anyway and

just like he is helping us with

chores, we should help him too.

With this she tossed his sarong under the sofa.