My Loving Wife Malti

 Chapter 1 - Introductions

Malti (means a fragrant flower), and I are a married couple living in Mumbai. We have three children and have been married for six years. Malti, at 28, is a stunningly beautiful woman and my only love in life. Ours is a love marriage, and like many other rebellious couples, we eloped and married in order to avoid her parents' disapproval. She is a Marathi Konkanastha Brahmin, while I am an ordinary Marathi man. She is very fair, with pale skin complexion, big beautiful eyes, and full pink lips. Her body is delicate - standing at just 5' 3" with a slender and proportionate figure. I am on the darker side, not completely dark, but treated as such. I am 5' 4" and with a medium build. My name is Sanjay.

Side note: Konkanastha Brahmins are Brahmins from the coastal region of Konkan in Maharashtra. They are known to be the fairest Brahmins in the Maharashtra state of India. Due to their fair, pale complexion, light brown eyes they can even pass off as Caucasians. Unlike Caucasians, however, they don't have blonde hair. There are several theories about their origins but that is not of interest in this story.

I was the eldest of three children in my family. The younger two children died at a young age as a result of various diseases. My father also died before I turned ten. So it was just my mother, my wife, and me at home. In Mumbai, we lived in a building with a Chawl system, in the same house where I grew up.

My wife comes from an affluent family. As a result, her decision to embrace a mundane life in the face of opposition from her family surprised me. We met through mutual acquaintances about 12 years ago. I was drawn to her from the beginning, and she quickly realized that. It took us a year to even talk to each other.

I was taken aback when she agreed to meet me alone. We hadn't expressed our emotions to each other, but our eyes had said a lot. We enjoyed long evening walks along the seashore and visiting the beach on occasion. She came from a liberal family, so it was easy for her to get away on some pretext or another.

We looked forward to our weekly excursions, and it didn't take long for us to hold hands. We hadn't confessed our feelings for each other yet, but it was clear that we loved each other. However, in our society, such fantasies are unheard of. She came to our house dozens of times with her friends, ostensibly to get study tips or share notes. My mother was aware of what we were up to, and was pleased with my decision.

After about a year, we talked about our relationship and discussed our future plans. I was torn; I loved her but wasn't sure if I could provide a good life for her. Her visits became more frequent after she decided to marry me regardless of her parents' approval.

We had a divorced neighbor named Kishore, whom everyone addressed as Kishore bhai (brother). He had been our neighbor since my parents moved into that flat, so he was almost like family to us. He was, however, a well-known and perpetual lecher in our Chawl. Everyone knew he wouldn't mind sleeping with their wives, but no one dared to challenge him.

Some of his antiques had piqued the interest of a few women. I'd seen him confidently hit on women from our chawl; he had a talent for seducing women and a keen sense of who would fall for him. He was a fighter who refused to give up no matter how many rejections he received.

Kishore bhai was the only son of his parents and came from a Kutchi family. He made a good living for himself despite his humble beginnings. In the last 15 years, he has been married three times. His first wife died in the first year while giving birth; unfortunately, the child did not survive either. He divorced his second wife after ten years because she was unable to bear children for him, and his third wife divorced him a few years ago.

None of his wives were particularly attractive, but his third wife was adorable and the youngest. She, on the other hand, was quite short (4' 10") and unusually weak. People in the Chawl frequently wondered how she could bear this man's weight during sex. The first and second wives were both obese, and the second wife was also ugly.

He was quite tall, about 6', and towered over me, allowing him to frequently boss me around. However, he was significantly overweight, possibly 100 kg (220 lbs). Nonetheless, he would frequently describe himself as "well-built." He had dark skin, several shades darker than mine. His face was covered in chicken pox marks, making him appear much uglier than he was. His thick stubble did nothing to improve the appearance of his face. His only saving grace was his long, silky hair, which he took good care of. It made him appear younger than other men in their forties.

He smoked on occasion but drank on a regular basis. He introduced me to the drinking game; I had learned that completely avoiding it was not a good strategy, so I would accompany him on occasion. Furthermore, at my mother's request, he would try to mentor me, and to some extent, he had influenced me.

"If you are born poor, curse your fate; if you die poor, curse yourself," he would often say. He recognized my sincerity and backed me up financially. Furthermore, he assisted us with our studies and even assisted me in starting my own business, which was still in its early stages. During our drinking sessions, he would frequently drop hints about understanding human nature.

In his early years, he worked as a salesperson and had gone to great lengths to land big deals. He was wealthy and could afford a posh apartment in Mumbai, but he was afraid it would make him lonely. He knew a lot of people here, and besides, he considered us to be his family. He had written an entire thesis on women and advised me to be cautious around them. He had cheated on 35 women and had multiple affairs with married women at the same time. This was mostly in his twenties and early thirties; after that, things slowed down for him.

He had no qualms about objectifying women in front of me. He believed that there are three types of women: those who arouse lust in you, those who you long to be with, and those whom you avoid or ignore. He warned me that when it comes to marriage, a woman's character is far more important than her looks. A good wife prioritizes her husband's and family's needs over her own, making her a much better woman to marry.

Most men make the classic mistake of marrying a lustful and self-centered woman. This is the worst combination because the vast majority of men lack the ability to keep such women happy or sexually satisfied. He cheated on such women because they were an easy target for him. I remember telling him once that a lot of people gossip about your bad hygiene behind your back. He was unconcerned about it, saying, "Never trust women on such matters because they say one thing and mean another." It may surprise you, but many women are drawn to that manly odor that they claim to dislike in public.

We once got into a moral debate, but he wasn't bothered by such trivial societal concerns. He was performing a social service because these women were not sexually satisfied in their marriages, and by having sex with them, he was able to keep their marriages alive. Given the importance of women in our lives, keeping them sexually satisfied should be a top priority. He went on to rant about how some men married very attractive women but lacked the ability to keep them happy.

He gave me the example of a 25-year-old young woman who seemed like a perfect target for him because her husband couldn't take care of her. After five years, he finally mounted her and gave her the real pleasure she deserved all along. He couldn't understand why the husband would deprive his wife of this pleasure. Despite the fact that he did not provide many details, I had guessed the woman he was referring to because I knew he had slept with her. Sex, he would argue, is a physical necessity that should not be confused with love. If the husband had recognized his wife's needs from the start, she would have been far happier in the marriage. According to him, a woman can easily appease 2-3 men sexually.

When Malti first entered my life and it became clear that we were in love, he told my mother, "Sanjay is lucky; she is a good match." Soon after, during our drinking session, the subject of Malti came up, and I asked him, "Kishore bhai, what do you think of Malti?"

"She's a nice girl; don't be late," he advised.

"How do you rate her personality?"

"Golden; she'd make an excellent wife!"

"Please excuse my language," he continued, "but you know I always think with my dick."

"She is the type of woman who can elicit lust in a 60-year-old man while also having a very good character. In today's world, this is a difficult combination to find. But you'll have to be on your toes to keep her happy."

I knew he was only thinking lustfully about Malti. In any case, nothing else could have been expected of him. Malti knew him well by then and always addressed him with respect. I noticed that whenever he mentally undressed Malti, I got a strong erection. It was a strange feeling that I couldn't quite put my finger on at the time. With each passing month, it became clear that this truly piqued my interest. I would frequently masturbate just picturing him with Malti. Fortunately, subsequent conversations with him clarified that I wasn't weird.

The question on my mind was how the husband was unaware of this. He had affairs with over 20 women, after all. With the majority of these women, it was not a one-time occurrence. He then told me that while some men were unaware, a large number of them were aware and simply turned a blind eye. This astounded me to my core; I couldn't believe such a thing could happen.

He went on to say that some even encouraged their wives to mate with him. This was the point at which I realized I was experiencing similar emotions. I thought he was a real stud who could please any woman, and I wanted Malti to be happy; sexually satisfied. Nothing less would suffice for me because I adored her so much. It was a bonus that I could get off on those thoughts.

During one of our drinking sessions a few months before our wedding, he brought up the subject of Malti. He was inebriated when he said, "Yesterday I met Malti; she has turned out to be a fine woman." Seriously, man, she's a real hottie."

"Some women are so hot and well built that they can really deliver 4-5 children, but some are so hot that even if they are not built to deliver many children, you would still want to impregnate them as many times as possible. Malti is one of them," he explained.

I ignored his conversation because he was inebriated. However, I was certain that this man was going to take Malti, whether I liked it or not.

In Mumbai, we lived in a large chawl. A chawl is a common building with apartments next to each other; each apartment's doors open into a common patio. Ours was a U-shaped structure. We lived on the top floor, along one of the U-bends. Kishore bhai's apartment was at the far end of the bend, and ours was right next door. Our apartments did not face the open space in the center of the building because of the apartments at the bottom of the U-shape. This provided some privacy because people who were only on our aisle could see us if we stood outside our door, on the patio, or on the balcony.

Our apartment was a small room with a kitchen and a bathroom in each corner, separated by a window that opened behind the building. It was a single room, perhaps 10 ft x 20 ft - a reasonable size for a Mumbai apartment. As was common in these buildings, toilets were located in the center of each floor. We had our own bathroom, which made bathing and washing dishes and clothes more convenient.

One room was definitely a problem for us because there was no privacy for us. My mother would sleep in the night to the side of the room where the kitchen was, while we slept by the door. We used a thick curtain as a separator, but it didn't give us the confidence to shed our inhibitions. Malti was too afraid of being caught or overheard by my mother to engage in sex.

Malti was only 21 when we married, and I was 24, so we debated delaying starting a family. We reasoned that our current residence was too small to accommodate a child. We used condoms for protection; anyway, she was uncomfortable having actual intercourse because she was afraid of making noises and waking up my mother. We didn't have actual sexual relations until the second week after our marriage. Even then, it was such a brief and insignificant affair that I was embarrassed by my own performance. Malti, fortunately, was too concerned to notice my poor performance. We had to resort to fondling and actual oral sex. We also indulged in some deep French kissing. All of these things were not common during our time, but we had no choice.

I was too enthralled by her beauty the first night we slept together to do anything. I just kept staring at her through the small bedside night light. We both knew she was stunning and far out of my league. We talked about trivial matters for about 15-20 minutes before she softly asked, "Are you going to do anything at all or just keep staring at me?"

I took a step forward and kissed her soft, pink lips. They were so soft; she parted her lips and I smelled her fresh breath. My tongue caressed her tongue as I sucked on her lower lip slowly. We kissed for a few minutes, and when she broke it, she asked, "You waited too long for this?" Isn't that so?"

I slowly unhooked her blouse, and she assisted me in unhooking her bra. I expected her to object, but she assisted me, and then I noticed her amazing breasts. They were approximately the size of small grapefruits. Her areolas were about the size of a one rupee coin. Her nipples were the size of small raisins.

As I examined her breasts, she blushed but was not embarrassed. Her areolas were lighter in color, matching her skin tone. Her breasts appeared to be lovely and substantial on her chest. I showered kisses on her breasts before sucking on her areola and nipples. When I bit her non-existent nipple, she moaned softly.

After what seemed like an eternity of playing with her breasts, she drew me in for a kiss and kissed me hard. It was intense and profound. As if she were the aggressor and I were the victim. She reached for my penis and squeezed it, saying, "Aren't you going to show it to me?"

"Let's hurry," I suggested, "mother might notice we've been at it for a long time."

"Let's try 69 instead of intercourse for today then," she said with a smile.

Malti was my dream girl, and despite the fact that I thought I knew her well, I didn't. She was far more daring than I had anticipated. She was also a brave woman to take the risk of marrying me and foregoing many of life's comforts. I never expected her to bring up the subject of oral sex, let alone in the way she did.

As we attempted to get into position, she gave us a mischievous smile.

"You had to marry me before you could kiss me. I would have lost 5 years if I had waited for you to suggest it."

She removed my underwear and examined my slender penis. She looked at it with interest and tried to pull back the foreskin. Her hands gently massaged my testicles as she said, "Now you get to see what you've been waiting for."

Malti lifted her Saree and slid forward on my chest, revealing her pussy. She'd already gotten rid of her pantyhose. In the dim light of the bedside lamp, I could clearly see her pussy covered in hair. She held up the Saree for me to see the thin slit with the help of a torch. Her pussy lips were pinkish red, with a tiny slit glistening with her juices. I drew her to my face and began to eat her away. Malti shuddered as soon as she felt the pleasant sensations. Her pussy was spotless and odor-free.

She licked my tongue for a few moments before turning around into the actual position. For a long time, we delighted in each other's company. I ejaculated in 5 minutes, but Malti needed relief, so I continued for another 10 minutes.

When we finally calmed down, she asked, "Did you imagine it this way?"

"This is different," I commented. She gave me a warm hug and a smile.

In the following weeks, our sex life didn't change much; she was nervous about making tnoise during intercourse. Her soft moans were already audible. In the back of my mind, I kept picturing her having sex with my next-door neighbor, Kishore bhai.

The stark contrast in their skin tones added to the intrigue. I was irritated that I couldn't have intercourse, but I was also worried about Kishore bhai stealing her virginity.

Malti was a nice and caring person. It didn't take her long to make friends in the building. Everyone envied my good fortune! None of them failed to notice the stark contrast between her pale skin and my dark skin. We agreed to look past people's lighthearted jokes because the difference was obvious.

Malti was a primary school teacher who left early in the morning and returned after lunch. I worked at a small computer firm and ran my own small computer company; computers had begun to take off, but they were still quite expensive, and only large corporations or the ultra-wealthy could afford them. Due to the two jobs, I worked long hours and frequently returned late at night; sometimes I worked on Sundays as well. It was our life, and Malti stood by me, knowing the importance of laying a solid foundation.

We were frustrated with our situation at times, but Malti reassured me that our future was bright. We were hardworking and optimistic people. We did have a few opportunities when our Mother went out for errands, but we were too conscious to take full advantage of them. It certainly made our lives more interesting. We were into French kissing and oral sex, which I couldn't say about many other couples at the time. We began with them without hesitation. We were at ease discussing these topics outside of bed, at least using code language.

Even so, our fears would prevent us from having physical intimacy at night. Outside of Mumbai, such concerns were unheard of. There was a scarcity of space, which had interesting consequences. We would pray that my mother would be tired and quickly fall asleep, and on the days when she did, we would take more risks and venture further. We consummated our marriage in the 3rd week at the beginning of Ganesh festival. My mother wanted to see the idols of various mandals, which was a big deal back then.

Each mandal, or group, would decorate and come up with interesting themes to depict during the festival. After all of our outings, we were all exhausted that evening, and our mother fell asleep as soon as she climbed into bed. However, I was too worked up to fully enjoy it, and I ejaculated only after mounting for 2 minutes. She was disappointed, but she didn't show it, and instead asked me to perform oral sex on her so she could climax as well. She finally climaxed after about 10 minutes, and we returned to our positions and spoke.

We would talk for hours, even when we were exhausted, and we would constantly fondle each other. As we hugged each other after our unsuccessful attempt at consummating our marriage, she said, "What's the matter with you? I expected you to pounce on me as soon as we married, but even after three weeks, you disappoint me with such a poor performance."

Malti was making fun of me. I had no idea she had a good sense of humor until recently. I assumed she was a shy and reserved young lady, but she was far more advanced in almost every way, much to my surprise.

"Why do you say that?"

"I remember how you looked at me. There was always an element of lust," she smiled.

"Anyone who looks at you can't help but be captivated."

"Of course even Kishore bhai can't resist me," she explained.

"What?"

"Haven't you noticed how he looks at me?"

"I thought he'd mount me even before you," she added.

I gave her an odd look. Although I had introduced the term "mount" in the previous two weeks during our long chats, I didn't expect her to talk with such freedom, especially when it involved another man. I was relieved that she had already noticed his sexual interest in her and didn't seem to find it offensive.

"Come on, Sanjay, you don't think of me as a conventional woman?" she continued. If I was, I would not have married you. I love you, but that doesn't mean we can't talk freely."

"No, Malti, of course not; it's just that I didn't expect it," I pleaded.

"Does he annoy you?"

"Not at all," she replied, "he actually makes me happy; I believe there is something in me that can move a man his age."

"Doesn't that bother you?" A man staring at your lovely wife?"

Malti was clearly worked up, which didn't surprise me given that we had already begun discussing sexual matters.

"You know how sometimes we overindulge and can't finish things, and I step out and run into him? It almost feels as if he senses my weakness and is about to mount me."

"There are elders to respect, and then there are others who are simply older people," she clarified as I continued to observe her.

"He's rumored to be a dog with no teeth; he can only bark and not bite," I retorted. Her direct approach frightened me, and I didn't want her to think of me as a wimp. But I still wanted her to explore possibilities with him, and I hoped that the rumor would make her more relaxed.

"But aren't you upset?"

"We live in a chawl, where there is no privacy. Men are always drawn to attractive women. People here are too busy making a living to think about morality."

"If it bothers you, I will speak with him," I explained.

"No, Sanjay, of course not; all men stare at me." It's nothing out of the ordinary for me."

"You are the sexiest and most beautiful woman I know. Even Vishwamitra will succumb to your charms; he is, after all, an ordinary man."

"Shut up, you charlatan. He is not Vishwamitra, and neither am I Menaka. And I was referring to my attraction, not his," she explained.

"Your sexual attraction to other men is not immoral," I said quietly. She turned off the light and reached out to kiss me. Her kiss was passionate; her hand reached into my underwear and stroked my semi-rigid dick.

"Have you ever fantasized about him with me?" she asked in hushed tones. My pelvis humped involuntarily. Malti correctly read it and said, "I have to."

As she began stroking furiously, my penis hardened. She climbed on top of me and rode me after fumbling for a condom and sheathing my penis. It was our first time, and I liked how Malti took the initiative. This time, we had a longer session, which Malti appreciated.

"You know, you have a dirty mind," she said as she hugged and slept in my arms.

There was a lot going on in my head right now. Malti had not only noticed Kishore bhai's interest in her, but she appeared to be intrigued by him as well. She wasn't opposed to having sex with him either. I was convinced that he would eventually score with her; it was only a matter of time. Furthermore, I sincerely desired that this occur. I knew that despite his lack of physical attractiveness, he could sexually satisfy her. Having observed her own liberal stance on sex, I predicted that this would occur much sooner than I had anticipated.

Unlike the husbands who had protected their wives from him, I decided to do the exact opposite. He had helped us our entire lives, and this was one way for us to repay him. Of course, I wanted Malti to make the decision so that I wouldn't be obstructing or coercing her in any way. I gave him plenty of chances to seduce her; even today, as we walked from one mandal to the next, he tagged along, and I made sure he got some time with her. Maybe her bold reaction today was just a result of something that happened.

These thoughts kept cutting in and out of my mind, keeping me awake all night. I began fondling her body early in the morning, waking her up. To see if she was willing to indulge me one more time that night. I fondled her breasts and kneaded her ass as she tossed aimlessly. I unbuttoned her blouse and grabbed her breasts. She moaned almost immediately. "Haven't you had enough for the night?" she asked as I nuzzled into her neck and kissed her.

"Malti, it's me, Kishore bhai," I said as my hand crept into her pantyhose. As my finger made its way into her soaking wet pussy, she let out a guttural moan. It was dripping profusely now that she knew it was him and not me. She kissed me, ignoring our morning breaths, and said, "Don't make a noise, you'll wake my husband and mother-in-law."

"Put your fat penis in me," she said as she pressed my fingers into her pussy. I felt the power of her vaginal muscles against my fingers as she pushed her vagina against me. It was so intense that if it had been my penis, I would have ejaculated right away. It only took a few minutes for her to reach a climax.

She seemed quiet and distant in the morning, so I hugged her and whispered into her ear, "I love you."

As she descended the stairs to our floor that day, she returned my loving gaze. Her school didn't start until 7:30 a.m., so she was the first one out the door.

I arrived at work at my usual time, but my thoughts were still on Malti and her admissions. She was stunning; none of the Gujarati ladies I knew could compete with her beauty. As if that weren't enough, she was well-educated and refined. I wondered if she was a cold woman because she hadn't pushed me for sex as much in the previous two weeks as she did last night. It was clear that her libido was strong, and she was also not a traditional woman. My fantasy appeared to be a reality at this point.

That evening, we both wanted to go to bed, but my mother worked until late at night to finish a few blouses that were due the next day. Malti slept in a regular tight Salwar that allowed no access to her breasts due to our haste. When I complained, she reprimanded me, saying, "you need every day now?"

"Wasn't yesterday enough? "My breasts are bruised," she said, slapping my buttocks.

"How can you blame me? "Wasn't it Kishore bhai the other day?"

She pushed me away and pretended to be upset. I leaned in for a kiss on her cheeks.

"He's acting like a sex-crazed bull," she said.

"He may have detected a virginal young cow that has yet to be properly bred."

She returned her hand to my bulge and squeezed it.

"I didn't expect you to have such a filthy mind," she said, turning to face me.

"Did you fantasize about him taking me?"

I gave a nod. I was embarrassed about this fantasy, but the way she reacted or even spoke about it made me realize it wasn't so strange after all.

"Has he taken other wives in our building?" she inquired, anticipating my response. "You know..." she said, noticing my interest.

She mentioned one of the married women he had boned a few years ago; the one he could have scored with right after marriage but couldn't because she lived in a very safe environment.

"How did you find out?"

"Is that correct?"

"You've only been here three weeks and you've already read it? "Did he say anything to you?"

"Stop talking, Sanjay. Why would he say that to me?"

"Is there any other woman?" She inquired, then exclaimed, "Let me guess that."

Then, much to my surprise, she guessed the second woman. Both of these women were in their thirties and reasonably attractive. One of them had been married for ten years, while the other had been married for thirteen years. Their business had been going on for at least 5-6 years. So when he mounted them, their ages were close to Malti's. This resemblance had to have piqued her interest as well.

I told her about his background and what I had learned over the years.

"So I'm his new muse then," she explained.

"I don't think he's had much success with a beautiful woman like you," I said.

"How could he have done it? He's such a filthy, disgusting pig," she retorted.

"Haven't you seen how ugly he is? Not to mention his obesity and age," she added.

"Didn't you want him to put his fat penis inside you the day before?"

"That's just a fantasy," she retorted, "and how does that matter?" Perhaps he deserves to mate with attractive women."

"How come you get so worked up if you don't like him?"

"It's forbidden. "Don't you think someone who has slept with 35 women is worth his salt?"

I kissed her neck and fondled her breasts. She was exhaling heavily, and it appeared that we were about to progress to the next stage of our fantasy.

"He is well worth it," I said quietly. My hand reached for her crotch, which appeared to be soaked in her juices. I untied the knot and pushed my hand inside; she shuddered as my hand reached her pussy. She was drenched, and my hand splashed as it entered her overly lubricated vagina. I kissed her and began finger fucking her.

"Don't you think so?" I inquired.

Malti was drowsy as she continued to concentrate on the pleasurable sensations emanating from her vagina rather than my kissing or talking. It was obvious that it was working. I kept doing it the same way for a while, and she quickly climaxed from my finger fucking.

"Will you let him put his tongue in your mouth or yours in his?" I asked as I put on my condom and prepared to mount her.

She moaned and asked, "Is there any other way to kiss?" as I settled into position and sank my penis inside.

"Go slowly; I want you to stay inside for as long as possible."

She kissed me slowly as I began my slow fucking.

"Would you like him to mount you, Malti?"

She didn't respond, but she was still motionless as I slowly pumped her. I urged her, and after a few moments, she said, "In my fantasies, he deserves to mate with your young, beautiful, virgin wife."

After a minute or so, as I was approaching my orgasm, she began to breathe heavily as well.

"Would you put his stinky penis in your mouth?"

"Yes," she mumbled as she neared her peak.

"He's not going to use condoms and cum in your womb!"

"I want him to breed me," she screamed, squeezing my penis. It only took a few moments for me to start gushing with my sperm in the condom.

We crawled into our bed. We were both very pleased with our episode; despite my initial reservations, I was able to please her and, more importantly, prolong the sexual intercourse, which I wasn't sure about. Nonetheless, Malti's pelvic muscles were strong, and my ejaculation was accelerated once she employed

them.

"I had no idea you could have such twisted thoughts," I told her. "Neither did I expect you to have such thoughts about your wife," she said with a smile.

"We may be unusual, but we are not alone in having such fantasies," she added.

"It can't be that all 35 of his affairs were always behind the husband's back, can it?"

"In fact," I responded quickly, "he specifically mentioned some husbands who were happy with this arrangement."

"So, in your fantasy, he takes me like he did the other wives? Maybe in 3-5 years?"

I pondered whether I wanted to be completely honest with her, but we'd come too far to hide anything, so I mumbled, "much earlier than that."

"Really? "How soon?"

I didn't say anything. She paused for a moment before asking, "Like right now?" 3 weeks until our wedding?"

When I didn't respond, she asked, "On our wedding night?"

"I had exactly the same fantasy," she exclaimed as she turned on her side to face me. Strange, isn't it?"

"He had been pursuing me even before our marriage, but he seemed more persistent once it became clear that we would marry."

"I didn't like him, but the fantasy was so erotic that I couldn't get it out of my head."

"You are stunning. What did you see in him?"

"Nothing. Despite the obvious differences, he pursued me as if he deserved me," she explained.

"Do you want to pursue this kind of relationship with him, Malti?"

"Are you serious?"

"Why wait if this has to happen in 5-6 years anyway?"

"Seriously?"

"It's strange, but even before I met you, I fantasized about him taking my wife the way he took other men's wives. It became even stronger and more persistent with your arrival. If this was such a vivid fantasy for you, we can discuss it," I said.

Malti was aroused and seemed eager to consider, if not accept, the proposal, but she hesitated as any woman would. It was now my turn to encourage her and provide the necessary support for her to take the next step.

"Look," I continued, "you, too, had a fantasy about him taking your virginity, didn't you?"

She nodded nervously.

"Technically, you are no longer a virgin, but practically, you are," I explained, "after all, we have only had intercourse three times so far." We can still indulge in our fantasies."

Malti froze just hearing my proposal. After a while, she inquired, "Don't you love me?"

"I adore you, which is why I am willing to consider such a proposal. You are far more deserving than I am. So, at the very least, I can ensure that you get what you deserve sexually. He will undoubtedly satisfy you in bed."

"Only if you feel strongly about it as well," I clarified.

"Wouldn't it have an impact on our marriage?"

"We fantasized about these things because we understand that sex is not the same as love. I don't see how this relationship could affect our marriage as long as it doesn't change our love for each other."

"What if someone discovers it?"

"If we take care, no one will find out; all they can do is speculate, which they are free to do anyway."

"It's unusual for both husband and wife to have such a fantasy and then have the opportunity to live it out," I added.

She leaned in close and kissed my lips. She snatched my semi-flaccid penis in her hand and asked, "Are you sure about this?" It doesn't seem right to give away what is rightfully yours."

"Do you think it's erotic enough for you to live it?" I inquired.

"I do," she replied, "but it's complicated; I'm not sure how it would work even if we wanted it."

"Exactly as you expect," I replied, "you have two husbands instead of one, and how you care for them so that both relationships thrive is up to you."

"Let's sleep on it," she said, "we shouldn't make any hasty decisions."

"I had always felt that he would enjoy my charms sooner or later, and I see the same confidence in his eyes as well," she continued, "perhaps you are correct that we have a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that we are both eager to consider."

"If I truly desired a conventional life, I would have married according to my parents' wishes," she continued, "so this is something worth considering, but fantasy and reality are two entirely different things." There are consequences in real life, many of which are irreversible."

I whispered to her the next morning, after our morning activities at home, when we had a quiet moment.

"We are still exploring the possibility, right?" She blushed and nodded and returned back to her work.

"You said he could have scored with you very likely? How soon would it have been?"

She elbowed me, saying, "you only think about those things?"

When I persisted, she replied, "Since you approve, maybe by our first anniversary."

"What if I didn't approve?"

"Maybe by our third anniversary then," she said.

She went to take a bath after serving breakfast to us. On Sundays, my mother would generally go to her temple activities, which gave us the opportunity to enjoy our privacy, but we were always afraid of being interrupted, so we never did anything more than kiss and fondle. My mother was in a hurry because of the Ganesh celebration, so she departed after finishing her meal. I shut the door and waited for my lovely wife to emerge from the bathroom.

After her bath, I saw my lovely wife perform her morning pooja, worshiping God and receiving blessings. When she saw I was staring at her, she gave me her naughty smile. "Aren't you underestimating him?" I asked her after she finished.

"Three years?"

"Are you still stuck there?"

"Didn't you take this breakfast for him?" she asked.

"I thought you wanted to do that," I said quietly.

"Now I have to reheat it," she exhaled as she lit the gas stove and began reheating the breakfast and tea.

As I approached her and kissed her on the neck, she said, "Of course I don't underestimate him." Since you approve, it would take less than three months, and even if you did not approve, it would happen by our first anniversary."

"Honestly," she said, looking at me, "if we had privacy, it would have taken even less time."

Malti quickly took the tray containing his breakfast, while I grabbed a towel and went to our bathroom. I changed my mind and quickly followed her to the door. "Thank you so much, Malti," he said as he opened the door. As I quickly peered in to see, he had let her in and was following her. He almost ran into her as she set the tray on a corner table.

"Good heavens, why do you drink so much?" she exclaimed as she turned around.

"Oh Poha, nice," he remarked, picking up the plate and taking a spoonful right away.

"At the very least, brush your teeth," she grumbled, her gaze fixed on the strewn-about house.

"Come on, Malti, you know Lions never brush their teeth, don't you?" He said this while sipping his tea, smiling.

Malti quickly gathered her belongings and announced, "Kishore bhai, you can have lunch at our place today."

"You are such a sweetheart. Thank you very much, but today is your only day of solitude, so I won't bother both of you."

Malti shook her head and walked away.

"Unless you agree to what I proposed," he explained. As soon as she stepped inside our house, I rushed inside. She seemed irritated, and I wondered what had gotten her so worked up, because I had noticed him keeping a physical distance from her and not saying anything out of the ordinary.

"What proposal was he referring to?" I inquired as I wore my shirt after taking a bath that day.

"Forget it," she said, "he's going insane."

She had no idea I was listening in on her; she assumed I had simply overheard him as I stepped into the bathroom.

I didn't want to push myself any further, so I sipped my tea and read the newspaper. Sunday afternoons were usually a good time for us to spoil each other. My mother returned that day within a few hours because she wasn't feeling well. That thwarted our plan, so we went for a walk on the beach. We felt liberated as we walked along the Marine Drive coast holding hands and talking normally without fear of being overheard.

During our late-afternoon stroll, Malti opened up and shared how her own fantasies began to form. Her visits to my house increased as we became more serious about our relationship, which brought him in contact with him a lot more. She was initially repulsed, even scorned, by his overt, desperate attempt to woo her. However, her rejections were quickly replaced with curiosity as he continued to approach her as if he were the prince charming. When she noticed other women in our Chawl secretly glancing at him at every opportunity, she knew there was something special about him. Within a year, she had become one of those women who looked at him when he wasn't looking.

Our marriage was a low-key affair because Malti's parents were against it. We chose to marry in an unconventional way, first registering our marriage and then having a few ceremonies performed at a temple. Kishore bhai was instrumental in arranging all of this because it was easy for the bride's family to bribe cops and have the groom arrested back then. We were able to avoid the hassle entirely thanks to his contacts with local politicians. As we posed for pictures at the Court, he made his intentions clear. He fondled her naked back and touched her naked back while striking a pose for those photos. No one noticed, but Malti was well aware that his intentions were questionable. He took advantage of the opportunity to touch her naked waist several times on the way back in the bus.

He was far more aggressive with her, while I was too concerned about being caught in the act with my mother, even though we were legally permitted to have such sex. Because of her timidity, she believed it would be far easier for him to score with her than with me. This fueled her desire for him even more.

She had never considered another man before that, and even after our marriage, she only fantasized about him.

As we dug deeper into the details, it became clear that she didn't like him. He was dark, ugly, old, overweight, and smelly, but she could easily see him taking her on our wedding night. The prospect of exploring this relationship and allowing him to take her virginity appealed to her. We even discussed where they could find opportunities to mate, as it was difficult for us to find solitude with only one room and my mother constantly staying at home. Kishore bhai appears to have already floated the idea of us using his front room at night, which opened up the possibility of finding a time when they could be together.

"Let's discuss more tonight," she said as we ascended the stairs of our building.

The usual evening TV noise was present. Most programs aired only on weekends back then, and everyone stayed glued to the television on Sunday evenings. We still didn't have a television in our house, though Kishore bhai did. If he didn't mind, we would frequently watch TV at his house. We had never been big fans of television and had decided against it. My mother was preoccupied with her chanting in the evenings, so she wasn't keen on it. It made sense to go to Kishore bhai's place and watch it for a pleasant diversion.

On the way, one of our elderly neighbors greeted us; Malti quickly accepted his blessings by touching his feet.

"Is he looking after you?" he inquired, his voice concerned. Malti gave a nod.

"Come to me if he bothers you," he said. I'm going to give him a good thrashing."

He laughed and walked away. "I thought he'd say visit Kishore bhai, if he bothers you," I said into her ear as we walked across the floor to our house.

Malti chastised me for mentioning him and elbowed me; one of the elderly ladies saw it and chuckled, "Give it to him; keep a tight leash on him."

Malti smiled and walked over to our house after greeting her. My mother had cooked dinner for us and said, "Food is ready, let's eat together."

I silently admired my lovely wife as she worked in the kitchen. I used to think to myself, "She's such a beautiful woman." Her skin complexion was so fair and clean that I had the impression that if I touched her, I would leave marks on her body. It was true.

She only wore conservative dresses that kept her perfect body covered. One could only imagine how good her figure looked in the loose-fitting Salwar-Kameez she wore. We weren't wealthy, so she only wore a small "Mangalsutra" and held a delicate golden bangle in her hand. She was simply stunning! In the sweltering heat of Mumbai, all of our bodies had their natural odor, unless we could afford deodorant or perfume. Malti had a strong aversion to such unnatural smells, and we both avoided them; instead, she bathed twice a day. Malti knew I was smitten by her beauty and would frequently sit and stare at her instead of doing anything useful.

"She is your own wife; instead of staring at her all day, why don't you do something useful?" my mother would sometimes say.

But, for the most part, she let me do what I wanted. Malti, on the other hand, would always have those nervous smiles when she realized I was watching her. As she realized it today, I took a step closer to her and whispered, "You're dressed so conservatively." Do you honestly believe he can score with you in three months? There aren't nearly enough opportunities for married couples like us."

She smiled and ignored my mindless banter. Sometimes my mother would get annoyed with such constant chatting of ours with each other; not including her in the conversation, but then she would also say that you too are bonding very well.

"Compromise is an integral part of every relationship. It will be strong only as long as you are willing to make necessary compromises and sacrifices," she would say.

"Look into that cabinet," Malti said, hinting towards our small medicine cabinet. I opened it and found a fresh bottle of vitamins.

"It's not for you," my mother said between her prayers.

"Are you listening to God or to us?" I retaliated. "Yes, it is for me; mother thinks I am skinny," Malti chuckled.

"You are Malti," my mother interrupted between her chants, "make sure she takes one every day, has eggs for breakfast every day, and drinks a glass of milk every night."

"How much do you weigh, Malti?" I inquired.

"Last I checked, I was 42 kgs (93 lbs)," she said.

"How long ago was that?"

"A few months before our wedding," she replied quickly.

"Have you checked yourself in the mirror, do you really think you are still at 42?" I made fun of her.

Imitating my mother, Malti smacked me with the serving ladle and said, "do something useful."

"All right, I'm leaving," I said, then whispered into her ear, "He's 100 kgs. Do you really believe you can handle his weight?"

"Shut up, Sanjay," she yelled, then whispered back, "Mother wants us to start our family; that's why she brought those."

We both understood what that meant for us in that situation. She asked me to leave as soon as she covered her mouth, embarrassed by her own remark.

My mother delivered her usual sermon, which she always delivered when she was happy. It made her feel better to have Malti as her daughter-in-law. Everything about Malti was perfect in her eyes, and given that her parents were adamant about not having any contact with her, we were both emotionally supporting her and bringing laughter into her life. Malti, according to her, was content, and it showed in her weight gain. We were relieved to see her adjusting to her new life after her family had cut her off from their lives.

As is customary, my mother concluded the conversation with a sermon, saying, "People think a good marriage is based on physical relationship, but the truth is, it solely depends on your longing for each other and the compromises and sacrifices you make for each other."

We looked at each other and realized we were made for each other.

That night, as I cuddled with her, she whispered to me again, "I love you."

"Mother is correct," she said, "I am happy here, and it is reflected in my better health."

"Physically, you're getting ready to breed with him," I said softly as I climbed on top of her. I sat on top of her for a while. "What are you doing?" she enquired. I'm being squashed."

"I am only 60 kgs, and that bull is at least 100 kgs," I slid next to her.

"Perhaps you are correct, my body is preparing for it," she said, lost in thought.

"It was the fifth night when I first fantasized about him," she explained.

"Even before we had our first intercourse?" I was taken aback by the realization. She had a sly grin on her face.

"Does that make you envious?" She said this while softly kissing my lips.

"A little," I joked.

"You know," I said, "even right now he could be thinking about you and, who knows, jerking himself off."

"He's a sex-crazed bull, for sure," she remarked.

"He's a Water Buffalo bull, and you're a virginal Indian cow," I said softly.

"He weighs more than 600 kgs, while you are barely 300 kgs. He's as black as coal, and you're as white as snow. He stinks to high heavens, and you smell like heaven," I added.

"God," she grumbled, "you are good at working me up with your talk."

"Perhaps it was the contrast that drew me to him," she speculated.

"Let's play a game," I suggested, encouraging her even more.

"Tell me five things you like about him," I said.

"Five? "What's there to like about him?" She pretended.

"Think about it," I suggested.

She pondered for a few moments as I massaged her body and hugged her tightly. My mother also liked the fact that we talked a lot in bed because she thought it was the best way for us to bond; simply having sex wouldn't have the same effect. We developed a deep understanding and trust between us because we were naturally in a situation where we couldn't have sex whenever we wanted.

"The first thing I like about him is his attitude, possibly his arrogance," she began.

"He comes across as someone who has very high self-esteem. "The second thing I like about him is the way he looks at me," she explained.

"You know, that's quite subtle," she explained, "it's the way a water buffalo bull would look at a virgin cow coming of age, as if to say, 'I've taken a note of you; be ready, the time is coming.'"

"Quite creative," I complimented her.

"The third thing is the way he confidently intrudes on my personal space," she continued. It's as if he believes it's his right."

She came to a halt and waited for me to say something.

"How about the fourth?"

"Come on, Sanjay, there isn't much to like about him anyway," she pleaded.

"You can't get out of it, honey," I pushed, "you took your time to think about it, so say it now."

"I'm not sure," she said after a brief pause, "but I think I like his dark complexion."

"Do you mean his dark face, which is smeared with marks?" I made fun of her.

"I know he's unattractive, but I'm drawn to him. I wouldn't say I like it, but I'm drawn to it."

"All right, the fifth one."

"I believe the fifth one is his age. I'm not sure why, but I believe that at this age, we don't care how the rest of the world perceives us; we're content with who we are."

"Thoughtful indeed, Malti," I remarked.

"Now tell me three things you despise the most about him."

"Only three things," I emphasized.

"That list is endless," she admitted, "so I'm sorry I won't stop at three." "Here you go," she began.

"First and foremost, I despise his dark complexion and overall physique. "He's a fat, ugly bastard," she declared.

"But you mentioned you liked his dark complexion," I retorted.

"No, I said, I was drawn to his dark complexion. I don't like it."

"Second, I despise his pungent body odor; even from 3 feet away, I can detect it."

"Third, I despise his bad breath; he has morning breath, alcohol breath, tea breath, or just plain stale breath."

"Fourth, I despise his bathing frequency; it appears that he bathes every other day."

"The dreadful outfit he wears at home. He wears boxer underwear. He keeps his house in a state of disarray, not to mention leaving dirty laundry on furniture. "I could go on," she said.

"I get it," I said, chuckling at her outburst.

"What do you want to change about him?" "Can you picture him as your future mate?" I inquired.

She paused for a moment before shaking her head in response to my question.

"Strange, I despise so many aspects of him," she remarked.

Following a brief pause, I said, "Hey, let's call him a Gaur in our conversations."

"What exactly is it?"

"It is the Indian Bison breed name. They resemble Water Buffalos but are much larger, and they are not as stinky and filthy."

She lay motionless; I let her think about our current situation, but I wanted to make my point clear, so I said, "I think you're almost there with your decision." Your reluctance stems from practical considerations."

"Did you want me to sleep with him because of your financial obligations to him, Sanjay?" In a concerned tone, she inquired.

"Not at all, Malti. "I would never do something like that," I assured her.

"We do owe him money, but don't let it bother you. I've been repaying it on a regular basis, and we should have finished it in a year."

"It's a different story that we can't repay his generosity with money," I added.

"Listen," I said, "if you find him sexually appealing and want to explore it, don't be afraid of me or other societal considerations."

"He can't imagine having such a lovely wife; this is the best he can get from you. I'm not concerned about our marriage. The fact that we are having such discussions only a month after our marriage should allay your concerns."

"It's 30 days, Sanjay," she corrected me.

"We only had intercourse twice; on average, I must have been inside you for about 10 minutes each time?"

"Yes, if you counted the time your finger was inside, it might be 20 minutes each time," she said.

"However, if you only counted the time your penis was inside - which is what an intercourse is - it was only about 5 minutes each time. So, only 10 minutes in 30 days," she meticulously articulated it, oblivious to the fact that she was simultaneously dismissing me.

"I noticed how thin your slit is still," I said.

"You are such an incorrigible jerk," she almost yelled at me.

"You two, sleep; tomorrow is a working day," my mother interrupted.

"When he mounts you, he will undoubtedly make you scream and may even cause you to bleed," I continued.

"Do you want me to sleep with him tomorrow?" she inquired.

"Malti, you don't seem to get it," I told her.

"All he needs is a sliver of a chance to score. If he were in my position here, he would mount you every night, ignoring the old lady sleeping across the way at least twice. I'd guess 15 minutes of actual intercourse each time. He'd already clocked over 900 minutes, or 15 hours to my paltry half-hour."

"How do you know that?" She put me on the spot. "Is he even sexually active at the moment?"

"I found two condoms in his trash bin last week; in fact, I see them frequently on Saturday evenings. It's most likely to happen on a Friday night or Saturday morning."

Malti appeared to be calculating something before saying, "Perhaps it's that old lady who visits him; he said she was his cousin-sister."

"Did you see two condoms? If I recall correctly, she was there for less than three hours," she said.

She remarked, "She was so old and out of shape."

"Do I detect envy or jealousy in your voice?" I inquired of her.

"Shut up. Why should I be envious?"

"You're upset because he's been trying to romance you while boning that old lady on a regular basis."

I recognized her concern this time and then, in my usual soft tone, whispered to her, "Gaur," I emphasized, the word, the name that we agreed to use only a few moments ago, "is no ordinary bull - he will mount any available cow." Of course, a young, beautiful, virginal cow is always preferable, but that doesn't mean he won't consider other options."

We were exhausted by that point and went to bed with those thoughts. She woke me up as usual in the morning and chatted with me for a few moments while I sipped my tea.

"Are you certain about everything you said last night?" she inquired once more. I gave a nod.

Soon after, she was on her way to work. We both connected again that evening, but due to our lack of sleep, we were both tired and didn't have the same enthusiasm to continue our conversation, but I knew that if I disengaged, she might interpret it as a reversal of my earlier decision. Fortunately, my mother was tired as well, and she went to bed early, giving both of us a chance to go for a short walk in our neighborhood before retiring.

As we walked, she clung to my arm. She finally asked, after a long silence and possibly irrelevant things, "You don't think I'm a bad, immoral woman, right?"

"Of course not, honey," I assured her, "you are my love, and I want to be with you not only in this life, but for the next seven."

"Do you have any regrets about our recent discussions?" she asked, smiling.

"I am relieved that we are discussing it as a mature couple," I said.

"Do you mind if I change my clothes a little?"

"Like, like what?"

"Something Gaur would approve of?"

I was relieved to hear her use that name. She bit her lower lip as the realization dawned on her that she, too, saw him in the same light.

"So you like the name, ah?" I enquired, jokingly. She blushed and nodded, a nervous smile on her face.

"Does the analogy work?"

She laughed nervously, then looked at me and said, "The best analogy! Everything is perfectly captured."

"Can you get me a few small hygiene items, Sanjay?" she asked after she had settled down.

"A good toothbrush, toothpaste, and a Dettol bottle."

"Gaur will not use it if you think he will change his ways for you," I joked.

"Shut up, Sanjay. Stop kidding," she said as she dragged me along at a faster pace, but only a few steps later, she said, "those are for my use, not his."

"Do you require any make-up?" I inquired.

"No. "I am beautiful as is," she countered.

As I previously stated, this occurred in the early 1980s. Life was different back then; while toothpaste was widely available, it was not the primary dental hygiene product. Lower-middle-class people used an Ayurvedic powder that worked reasonably well, but the effects did not last all day. In addition, due to the hot weather and high humidity, one had to mask one's natural odor. People used deodorants or perfumes, but we didn't like them.

As we approached our building, I told her, "I'll get your stuff tomorrow, but I don't think that will matter."

"Why?" she inquired right away.

"Because you're already so beautiful; minor changes in those things won't make a difference, at least not for Gaur."

My mother was sleeping when we returned to our room, and we both jumped into bed right away. I was almost dozing off when my wife reached for my penis and gently massaged it, asking, "Are you sure this can take it?"

"Does it have a say?"

"It's now at your mercy," I added.

"It's a difficult dilemma for me," she explained, "I want to explore, but I am concerned about social ramifications. Because we are so close to Gaur, our neighbors may already be gossiping behind our backs. What would happen if Mother found out?"

"No matter what we do, people will always talk behind our backs," I said.

"Mother will act as if she hasn't noticed it," I explained, "but she may already know more than you think; she, too, was once a target for him, and I'm not sure if he would have failed with her."

"Besides, as I previously stated, we are both deeply indebted to him, so the least we could do is allow him to charm the house's daughter-in-law. If he deserves her, he will get her."

"Do you believe he deserves me? Even if we had no obligation to him?"

"It's a difficult question to answer," I began, "but the short answer is yes."

"A few years ago, I overheard some conversations that stayed with me. His third wife frequently complained to him; they didn't believe I understood their language. Those discussions would usually occur around the time of her periods, when she would want to visit her parents.

I learned from some conversations that he was demanding sex during her periods and usually responded by asking, "What are your other two holes for?"

Hearing it, Malti was visibly moved, so I continued, "the last conversation was definitely etched in my mind." She was telling her Bhabhi about her reasons for leaving him. He is a sex addict who needs sex almost every day. "If I had been fertile, I could have easily delivered three, if not four children," she said.

"We started dating around that time, and I was wondering if you could have handled such a sex-crazed Gaur?"

She remained silent for several minutes, but her resolve grew stronger.

"You were saying something about not being able to make a difference," she gently nudged me.

"First, let's play a readiness game," I suggested. She appeared intrigued but also nervous, as if she expected to learn something she suspected but wasn't sure about by playing the game.

"Let's say you had a choice between kissing me and kissing him with the same foul, morning breath you despise," I began.

"Wait, what kind of question is that?"

"It's a long, deep, intimate French kiss that lasts about 5 minutes. "Who would you pick?"

"You know the answer," she admitted sheepishly.

"Say it."

She mumbled, "Gaur."

"What if you have to choose between actual intercourse with me and kissing him?"

She looked at me strangely again and said, "Gaur."

"What if you had to choose between taking his stinky penis in your mouth and letting him fuck your mouth or having an intercourse with me?"

"Wait, is that even possible?"

I raised my brows, and she paused before admitting that it was still Gaur.

"What about the option of licking his anus or having intercourse with me?"

"Intercourse with me?" I inquired hastily. She shook her head and thought briefly. I assumed she agreed with me, but she responded, "No, I mean still Gaur."

"How about anal intercourse with him as well as regular intercourse with me?"

"Gaur," she said.

"Malti, you think you're not ready, but I think you're not ready to accept the fact that you are ready," I said, taking a deep breath.

There was a knock on the door. It was late, so I was curious who it was. It was one of our coworkers. He informed me that there was a problem with some machines that we had delivered to a Pune office, and that they were completely stuck. I had to leave right away; they had arranged for a hotel room, and I could have brought my wife with me if I wanted. I asked him to wait downstairs while I prepared. While I was getting ready, I told my mother to go to bed because she appeared tired.

Malti stuffed my small bag with clothes and necessities. "Why don't you come along?" I suggested. It would be a nice distraction for us. We could also visit a few places while we're there."

"I want to, but it's late at night, and I'm not sure it's safe," she explained.

"Besides, it would be difficult to control when we are alone," she grumbled.

"You want to come, but Gaur's bride can't. I understand."

"It isn't that," she begged.

I snatched her into my arms and kissed her on the cheek. She hugged me tightly and sobbed a little.

"I am torn between my physical needs and my love for you," she explained.

"I love you regardless," I said softly, kissing her lips.

"This is your decision, and I have promised to back you up. If it's any consolation, I had the same fantasy of giving Gaur your virginity."

"Remember to take your vitamins, eggs in the morning, and milk at night," I advised.

"This waist is very small; it needs to be much stronger," I added. She smiled mischievously as she gently tapped me on the chest. We said our goodbyes, and I walked away.

I wasn't sure how long I'd be out, but I was hoping it wouldn't be too long, because the work turned out to be quite laborious. We didn't get much sleep because we had to manually fix all of the problems one by one until they were resolved. It took us a solid ten days to get through it while sleeping for a few hours every night. Finally, I returned the following Friday afternoon and arrived home late that evening. Malti was delighted to see me and quickly made me a cup of tea. She saw how tired I was and said, "You should go to bed early; dinner will be ready in a half-hour." Mother appears to be struggling as well."

I sat there for a few minutes, talking to my mother, when I noticed a lady leave his seat. Malti was preoccupied with her cooking, so she didn't notice, but I quickly checked on her and realized she might be the same woman with whom he must have slept. "I will be back in 5 minutes; I have to take her to the bus stop," he said, looking at me.

I waved and waited for him to come down the stairs. I rushed into his room as soon as I saw him leave our building and looked for the trash can in the kitchen. As expected, there was a small ball of paper at the top, which I quickly opened and checked for two condoms.

It was a freshly torn page from a new magazine next to his bed. I grabbed it and bolted from his room. I felt compelled to demonstrate to Malti what this man was capable of. My mother was taking her medicine and preparing to sleep, as she appeared exhausted from the severe cold and fever she had been suffering from for the past few days.

As I sat down for dinner with Malti, I drew the curtain and turned off the light. We discussed how my trip went, whether everything went smoothly, and other general topics. As she was cleaning up after dinner, I whispered into her ear, "the mysterious lady visited again today."

Are you upset about his betrayal?" She elbowed me and concentrated on finishing her work. "Do you want to go for a walk?" she asked 15 minutes later.

It was a Friday night, and we took such walks on a regular basis. It gave us more freedom to talk openly and also provided us with an opportunity to get some fresh air.

"Just for a little while," she begged.

She clung to me as we walked, as she usually did. Nobody in our building doubted that we were made for each other.

"Is there anything noteworthy?" As we were leaving our neighborhood, I inquired. She blushed and said, "a lot actually, but let's talk about it later." "How was your trip?"

"I've been working on starting my company for the last three years, and it appears to be taking off well. Sorry for keeping this from you. My mother isn't even aware of it yet. Profits have been phenomenal, but I'm taking it slowly. I was on my way to pick up our own company's order; it was a large client, and it appears they were pleased," I said, beaming.

"That's wonderful to hear," she said as she hugged me.

"If you want, we can pay Kishore bhai the money even tomorrow. We will have no further financial obligations to him."

When she heard this, she tensed up, but I ignored her and continued, "heck, we can even rent a much better place as early as next month."

"How did this all happen?" she wondered, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"You made no mistake in marrying me," I assured her.

"Take a day off tomorrow so I can take you out and show you around," I suggested.

We walked a little further as we processed this new information. It was such a pleasant surprise for Malti that she walked with a spring in her step as she reveled in it. Still, leaving this neighborhood meant not having the opportunity to pursue that relationship with him.

"Does that mean we're no longer interested in pursuing a relationship with him?" she inquired.

"Although we have the option of leaving immediately, we should proceed with caution and ensure that we can comfortably afford the new lifestyle. Besides, our decision to date him should have nothing to do with our financial situation."

We returned with a sense of relief in her eyes, despite the fact that the timing of events had dismayed her. By the time we got home, my mother was snoring; the medicine had taken effect.

"Today he gave me a new Chaniya Choli that was specially stitched for me," she explained, "and it was supposed to be our wedding gift." He couldn't give me anything at the wedding because he didn't understand my preferences. He also gave me silver payals (anklets) and toe rings."

She went on to say, "Mother liked them."

My heart was pounding furiously as the moment when I was about to lose my wife drew near. Even though I thought it was me who was directing her toward him, I felt there was no need for my assistance. I was, if anything, making it easier for her to accept the consequences rather than harboring guilt. In my mind, it was now a foregone conclusion.

"You got those clothes stitched? Who did it? Did you provide any measurements?" I inquired. She continued to grip my hand, as if she was nervous. After a brief pause, she stated, "Yes, that was his first innocuous request."

"Are you upset, Sanjay?" she asked, nervously standing in front of me.

"Not really, but I wasn't expecting such quick progress," I explained.

"We have plenty of time tonight," she said as she arranged our bed and set up the separator. She wore the same clothes because she didn't want to change in front of me. She had always avoided it, despite the fact that I had seen her breasts and even her vagina but had not seen her completely naked.

She showed me the dress he had given her in the dim light. Because of the darkness, I couldn't see much; as I tried to inspect it, she took it away, saying, "You need to wait for it."

After that, she showed me the anklets. They were modern versions designed for slim women, with intricate designs and strong but thin links. I placed it on her hand and marveled at the intricate design.

"Did you pick them?"

"No, it's his choice," she replied, proudly showing it off on her hand. I took it from her and strapped it around her ankles. They looked great on her petite feet. After connecting the link, I massaged her slender calves, and then I noticed something. I took up the other chain and examined it carefully. The anklet's two hooks were tied together in a floral pattern, with two petals holding the hooks together. A few tiny trinkets were dangling from the bottom petal. Upon closer inspection, I discovered they were modeled after clam shells, with a hook hidden behind the shell's joint. On each anklet, there were three of them. That unusual addition enhanced the anklet's beauty. But my mind was working strangely, so I showed it to her and said, "That looks beautiful, right?"

"Yes, I like them," she said, taking a quick glance at them.

"Take your time," I advised. She looked, but she couldn't figure out what I was highlighting. So I took it from her and held them in such a way that the trinkets hung directly from the chain. They appeared to be vertical clam shells due to their design, but because they lacked the ribs on the surface of the shell, they appeared to be bull's testicles.

"Don't they look like Gaur's testicles? " I said softly to her. Her eyes were wide open as she examined it and laughed nervously. As I helped the other one to her feet, she was still embarrassed and trying to hold back her nervous laughter. The chain's design allowed for only faint noise, which was preferable in our home because I didn't want my mother to be awakened at night by the clinking trinkets.

She showed me the toe rings, which were also fancy. As I examined it, I noticed a small design on the top of the actual ring. It was a bird, similar to the famous Cuckoo watches that some Indians favored.

"Nice," I said, looking for Malti's direction. It was supposed to go on the index toe, but I wasn't sure, so I needed her help.

"Do you mind if I wear these?" she inquired, her voice full of childish glee.

"Of course, if you want to."

"Come on, let's go to bed," she said, tossing her new dress aside and making room in the bed for me. She was sleeping on my arm, facing me and softly kissing my cheek as she whispered, "I love you." I kissed her on the cheek.

"Sleep," she advised.

"Don't we need to discuss our next steps?"

"Hasn't it been decided?" She muttered something. Her hand caresses my chest and plays with the hair on my chest.

"What's the point if we're going to move?" she wondered.

"Even though we can," I said, "it would be prudent of us to postpone it for at least a year or two."

"Why?"

"Money has an impact on relationships; it makes people jealous, and it can even get to our heads. That's why I kept it hidden the whole time. The only reason I told you about it is so you don't feel obligated to accept his proposal."

She remained silent for a moment before whispering, "Is it really true?" That you've made it big, or was it just to make me happy?"

"No, Malti," I said, quickly getting up and retrieving my purse. I took out a couple of checkbooks and showed her what they were. There were a couple of accounts in my name that held a significant amount of money. When she looked at the balances in those accounts, her eyes were wide open. I withheld them, and she appeared to be lost in her fantasies of living a lavish life.

"Don't let it get to your head," I advised, "because good times don't last forever." Only those who are skilled at managing their resources can hope to escape the gravitational pull of poverty."

"How long are we going to be here?"

"I would say 2-3 years," I said, "but assume 5-6 years, but plan on staying here indefinitely."

"We live here normally; we invest our money wisely in the hope that it will eventually help us move to a much, much better place with a much better lifestyle."

"So now we have something to talk about," she said quietly. I hugged her as she rolled onto her back. My thigh rested on her thighs, and my hand massaged her breast gently. I moved in to kiss her, but she turned away.

"What happened?"

"We should talk right now," she said, her gaze fixed on mine. Her demeanor indicated a sense of urgency, so I asked, "Did he make any other innocuous demands?"

"Yes, he wanted breakfast in the morning on the weekend; that's why I made his favorite last week," she explained.

Everything that happened between him and her that day made sense now. He was dragging her into his net by her agreeing to these minor requests.

"Do you really want us to go ahead with it, Sanjay?" she inquired.

"It's your decision, Malti," I said, "and I will accept whatever it is."

"I know you love me a lot, but this has to be our decision, honey. "This is a precarious path," she began.

"Once we sleep in that room, it won't be long before he mounts me for more than 25 hours in the next 45 days while you add another paltry half-hour to your account."

"Is this really what you want?"

"I won't mind if he monopolizes you," I said.

"Do you only have him in your fantasies, or do you also have other men?"

"No. It's just him," I mumbled, embarrassed by my own irrational desires.

"What are your thoughts? "Do you want or need this?" I inquired. She paused for a moment before saying, "Not sure." I appreciate him pursuing me, but I'm not convinced of his virility just yet."

"Perhaps I can dispel some of your doubts," I eagerly said.

"Would you like to be his advocate? "You're welcome," she said.

"Did the lady show up today?"

"Perhaps an hour before you got here," she speculated.

"And she left not long after I got there."

"Here's the proof," I said, reaching for the ball of paper I had hidden beneath our cupboard. I arranged the condoms so that all of the sperm would return to the condom's tip.

"These are the two samples," I explained as I lifted the condoms.

"Ew, you're gross," she said, pulling away from me but still staring at them.

"And here is the one I use," I said, pulling it from my stash and lining it up against his two condoms. Her jaw dropped as she noticed the difference. Condoms stretch, so it's difficult to tell, but she noticed his was a jumbo version and mine was a regular version.

"You've seen a used one of mine," I explained, "and my sperm barely makes it above the tip." "Take a look at his condom," I said.

"His quantity is probably five times mine. Not to mention the fact that he screwed her twice in an hour."

Malti was mesmerized by the specimens, so none of my commentary was necessary. I was possibly Kishore bhai's best lawyer. As I laid the specimens on the floor, she still looked at them lovingly.

"Perhaps you're right," she said as she rolled over.

"Would you like to touch it?" I inquired. She shook her head in disapproval. So I rolled it all up in the same paper and hid it under the cabinet.

"Throw it away in the morning," I said, squeezing back into her bed.

"It appears that we both agree he is an excellent candidate, perhaps the best and only candidate," she said.

"There were times when I felt I was weak and he could take advantage of me, but he never did."

"And I, too, am intensely drawn to him; not just sexually, but also emotionally," she added.

"I almost get the impression that he wants to romance me rather than just have sex with me; are you getting it, Sanjay?"

"Even though I despise him, I want to be connected to him."

"There's something special about you, Malti; perhaps he considers you his fourth wife!"

"It's strange; I felt the same way," she remarked as we fell asleep.

"His roots are from Kutch, and that area was dominated by Muslim Rajputs," I explained, "and he frequently hinted that he had Muslim ancestors. And, as you may be aware, Muslims are known to have a large number of wives."

"I didn't realize that."

"Did you notice how the anklet has the letter "K" nicely hidden in the chain structure?"

She yawned, "I didn't notice."

"Did you see the bird on the toe ring?" I inquired.

"What about it?"

"Doesn't it look like the cuckoo bird we see on old grandfather clocks?"

"Yes," she confirmed.

"Don't you realize? Cuckoo birds never have their own nests; instead, they lay eggs in the nests of other birds."

"The other bird raises the cuckoo chicks as its own offspring, sometimes even at the expense of its own chicks," I explained.

"In humans, when a husband raises another man's children, he is known as a cuckold," I explained further.

"Do you know what toe rings are for?" I inquired.

"It helps women's menstrual cycles," she explained, adding, "Gaur explained it to me."

"There is a nerve that runs through your womb and connects your index toe to your heart. A toe ring improves blood circulation in this nerve, increasing fertility "I clarified my position.

"You think I don't understand it?" she sluggishly inquired.

She turned around and hugged me from behind, nuzzled into my neck, and stroked my semi-erect penis with her hand in my underwear.

"Of course, Sanjay," she said quietly, "he wants to breed me; he wants to breed your wife."

"Isn't that what you were hoping for?"

It was enough to make me sputter my sperm.

Chapter 2 - The Elderly Neighbor Takes My Wife

I awoke late. Malti had a day off and stayed at home as planned. We both left late in the morning, with me going to all of the banks and showing her the actual proof of the money we had, as well as adding her name to the accounts so she would be aware of them if something happened to me.

As I had previously stated, financial security had been a concern for her, but it seems to have passed now.

Because it was a hot day, we decided to go see a movie in a cinema to cool off. She, too, desired to spend some peaceful, relaxing time with me. Her mind, on the other hand, was on another world from the start. Because the theater was rather empty, we each chose a good, comfy seat. We spent a lot of time talking about how I started and grew our company, as well as what we should do next to extend it even further and truly establish ourselves.

Malti grew up in a wealthy household, so this fortune didn't come as a surprise to her. I was worried about it myself, but she was far too mature for her age, and that gave my life some stability. I wasn't sure if my own mother would be able to deal with the news calmly, so I decided not to tell her.

It was cold in the theater, so she wrapped herself in her shawl, which she soon extended to cover my lap as well. After a few moments, her hand descended into my lap and caressed my bulge. Clearly, I was worked up and expecting something, but I didn't dare to take advantage of her in such a public setting. She had no such reservations, and after a few good squeezes, her hand searched for the zipper and slowly tugged on it.

"What are you up to?" I spoke to her in hushed tones. She kept squeezing my bulge over my pants.

"Something different," she said. But because I wasn't comfortable with it, she decided not to unzip me and to keep massaging it.

"Are you hoping Gaur mounts your wife soon so that you can get some relief?"

"Very much," I mumbled, hoping that none of our actions were noticed. Fortunately, it was dark and sparsely populated, making it difficult for anyone to notice anything odd; besides, we weren't doing much by conventional standards.

"Are you interested in it as well?"

"Somewhat, but I need some time to think about it."

"If a middle-class couple like ours wants to live such a life, candidate options are limited," she added.

"If you ignore his flaws, Malti, he is truly gifted," I assured her.

"I like that he is an elderly man who is related to our family and lives right next door. However, such relationships are fraught with complications because they take on a life of their own."

"Would you like it to be time-limited?"

"I'm not sure, Sanjay, but the lack of such a choice makes the decision more difficult."

"He is trustworthy," I added, "so that is another plus."

"If you really want me to take on another husband, he is certainly a good choice," she said, despite his flaws.

"How do you think it would work if we started sleeping at his place?" she inquired.

"I hadn't considered it, but it would be obvious to him soon," I explained.

"You are correct, he is not an amateur, so things would be open in no time, and it would then become a sort of open relationship," she explained.

"You'll be his fourth wife," I said, slipping my hand into her lap and caressing her thigh.

"I don't think he'd like that," she said quietly after a brief pause, "must have had painful memories of his previous wives."

"What if I ended up being his mistress?"

She squeezed my bulge and said, "The sole purpose of a mistress is to sexually please her master. Isn't that what you wanted?"

We sat quietly and watched the movie for a few minutes. "Gaur has made his first move, Sanjay," she said.

"Uh? When?"

"On the last day of Ganesh celebrations," she explained, narrating the brief incident.

Except for a small portion on top of the toilets that was reconstructed during recent repair work, our building had a traditional roof and no terrace. Our floor's access to the terrace was via a ladder through a small storage area. Because many people had previously misused this terrace, the storage room was eventually locked so that only authorized people could access the stairs. Fortunately, Kishore bhai had the key, and he opened it that day to allow people to enjoy the festival processions. Many people took advantage of it as the sun set, but only a few people stayed back.

It was Malti's first vantage point, and she lingered on the terrace for a long time, not realizing she was alone and Gaur had arrived at the deserted terrace. It wasn't until he embraced her from behind that she realized it was him and she was alone on the terrace. Because it was quite dark on the terraces, only those who were intensely staring at them could see what was going on. She tried to free herself, but he was a strong man, and she didn't try hard enough.

With one hand, he massaged her breasts while the other caressed her naked tummy. Clearly, this wasn't the first time he tried to hug her; he had done so on the first night of Ganesh festival, when we went out to see various setups in our neighborhood. However, this was the first time he massaged her breast. His strong body odor was all over her, and she could feel his hot breath on her neck as he inhaled her fragrance. As he pushed forward, she could feel his bulge on her lower back. He practically enveloped her entire body, and she realized for the first time what it would be like if a man much larger than her tried to romance her.

They must have been awake for only a few minutes when my mother called for her. It snapped her trance, and she bolted. He could see that she was available now, and all he had to do was push the boundaries.

Malti was ready and eager to mate with him, but she was concerned and did not make herself available. The next chance came a day before I arrived; she had left a few items drying on the terrace. Usually, in the evening, some or all of the other people were on the terrace, so she wasn't concerned about being caught by him alone again.

She had escaped his clutches several times before, but not the day before I returned. The situation was identical, except that it was getting dark and she went to retrieve some items that she had left drying on the terrace.

He appeared just as she was about to walk down the stairs. He took the items she was carrying and gently placed them to the side before confidently taking her in his arms. He planted his lips on hers even as she leaned back and pressed against his chest. She was incredibly worked up and eager to take the next step, so she cooperated but did not give in easily. In a matter of seconds, he was passionately kissing her and putting his tongue in her mouth.

Her fears of his foul breath had vanished, and all she could feel was his manliness. His manliness reflected in his stale breath and pungent body odor. Even though she had no intention of kissing him back, he was so good at kissing that she did it passionately. The kissing continued for 3-4 minutes without interruption; she was unconcerned about anyone catching them or even seeing them from other buildings; it was quite dark, so she felt safe.

He spun her around and began squeezing her breasts. He was smitten by them; as I previously stated, Malti's breasts were large and looked fantastic on her slender frame.

"These will feed my babies," he said quietly to her. He kneaded and squeezed her breasts like there was no tomorrow. She couldn't take it any longer and turned around, offering her lips to him once more. She kissed him briefly this time before rushing down the ladder with her belongings, pushing him away.

After narrating the episode, she asked, "Are you happy?" My penis, which was as hard as a brick, answered her question before she even asked it.

Did he meet your expectations? Did you find his odor offensive? Did you get a sense of his masculinity? I had a million questions, but I was so moved by her story that I kept quiet and let her speak for herself.

"We gave him the opportunity to seduce the daughter-in-law, and he kissed the bride exactly one month later. I didn't notice anything, not his bad breath nor his strong body odor. All I felt were pleasant sensations, nothing else," she stated.

"Does he now have the legal right to breed his daughter-in-law?"

It was enough for me to ejaculate inside my underwear.

"It always gets you, doesn't it?" she chuckled. Anyway, he never needed our permission; he would have bred me one way or another."

"Do you want me to speak to him about the rental agreement?" I asked as I finally settled in after cleaning myself up.

"No, not yet." Allow him to take me as he intended; boldly and without regard for societal considerations."

"Navratri is approaching; it should provide ample opportunities to fully realize our fantasy, and I should also be in my fertile period."

"Shouldn't we wait a few years, Malti?" Starting a family so soon may not be a good idea."

"Perhaps you are correct, but Gaur may disregard our family planning," she retorted.

Those were our thoughts as we exited the hall. Things were moving much faster than I expected. He had seduced my lovely wife in less than a month, and she was clearly smitten by him, enough to avoid sexual relations with me entirely. Kishore bhai informed us upon our return that he had planned a movie night. Movie nights were special back then, when we'd rent a video cassette player for the night, rent 2-3 movies, and watch them all night. The room would be packed with eager onlookers, but he kept it quiet because he wanted it to be a private show just for our family. My mother was hesitant because she had already planned the next day's morning temple activities. His only request was that we keep him entertained; it wasn't clear what kind of entertainment he was implying, but Malti understood and entered our room with a smile.

She quickly made a light dinner for all of us and went about her business for the evening. She emptied her bowels, took an elaborate bath, and stepped out wearing a simple skirt and top. As usual, she was stunningly beautiful. She wore a traditional Indian garland (Gajra) in her hair, which Kishore bhai had apparently purchased for her. I assumed she would prefer a night gown, but she chose a simple dress instead. When Kishore bhai opened his favorite rum bottle, I realized what he meant by entertainment.

During the first film, Malti was busy preparing some items for us while we sipped our drinks, and my mother even sampled a little. My mother chose to retire after the first film ended. Malti finally decided to join us and watch the movie; up until that point, she had been busy preparing snacks for us. Unfortunately, I had had a little too much to drink and was feeling drowsy. Malti sat down next to me, and I chose to rest my head in her lap and watch the movie, despite the fact that my entire week's hard work was showing. Kishore bhai had been raving about this fantastic film that had recently been released, and how he had been able to obtain it for private viewing even before it was released in theaters. We watched it despite the fact that it was a very slow film that neither of us was interested in.

Things had quieted down considerably; it was after 12:00 p.m. and there was no danger of anyone disturbing us. Kishore bhai stepped out onto his small balcony, which overlooked the main street. There was a light drizzle, and things were finally cooling down. The cool breeze was having an effect on me. While sipping her drink, Malti chatted with him.

She wasn't into it, but as a modern woman, she saw nothing wrong with it. It had only been about 5 minutes when I noticed Kishore bhai was not at his usual spot and the TV seemed a little darker; perhaps he had reduced the brightness of the TV. I was sleeping on Malti's thigh when she spread her legs and pushed me up to her knees. She covered my head with a thin scarf; it covered my eyes as well, enough so that I couldn't look at her without tilting my head.

As soon as I realized what had happened, all of my blood rushed to my penis, and it was taut in a matter of seconds. Fortunately, I had anticipated this turn of events and had left the door to the cupboard right next to the television partially open, revealing what was going on between them. Things were hazy due to the reduced brightness, but I could still see. Kishore bhai was sitting next to Malti on the divan, and it appeared that they were whispering to each other. He would occasionally lean forward and massage her breasts. Malti would check on me from time to time to see if I was awake or asleep.

Another ten minutes passed as they both sipped their drinks leisurely, and it appeared that he was asking her to come to the other room, but she wasn't convinced that I was fast asleep. Finally, Kishore bhai snatched a thick pillow from her lap and placed it just above my head. Despite Malti's warnings, he sat down next to her, took her in his arms, and planted his lips on her. As soon as their lips met, my wife's pelvis jerked involuntarily. Malti moaned loudly as she parted her lips and welcomed his tongue. Her bangles clinked as she held his head and fussed over his hair.

Malti groaned between kisses as he continued to roughhouse with her breasts. It was clear that she enjoyed it. It was a long and intense kiss that made me wonder about my sanity; why would I give up my wife to someone like him? Despite her complaints about his stale breath, she kissed him passionately for well over 5 minutes.

"I love your breath," he said, breaking the kiss. Malti flushed and wiped her lips with her scarf before reaching for her drink.

"Let's take it slowly; he's a light sleeper," she said quietly to him. They appeared to be discussing the film as he explained the plot to her. The TV volume was also turned down, so understanding required close attention. The movie was coming to an end; either I had been sleeping for a long time, or they had fast-forwarded the scenes because it was a very slow movie.

"Oh, she slept with them both?" In surprise, I overheard Malti say.

"Who is the father?" She inquired after a short while.

"Who do you want it to be?" he asked, bending down and pressing his finger into her pantyhose. She gave him access by lightly undulating her hips and spreading her legs a little. As his finger penetrated her vagina, Malti let out an audible grunt.

"You're sloppy wet," he said quietly to her. Looking at her in the mirror, I could tell she wanted it. I noticed her gently rocking her pelvis, emulating intercourse with him, while she was lost in pleasant sensations. He took out his finger and offered it to her to lick, which she dutifully did, even bobbing her head up and down on it a few times.

"You know the answer, don't you?" she said sensually as she drew him in for a quick kiss.

"Who would be her husband and father of her child?" he inquired.

"Naseer would be the husband, and Om would be the father," she said casually, grabbing her drink back.

Om Puri, the actor, had the same pock marks on his face as Kishore bhai, but Kishore bhai was much darker.

Genesis was the title of the Hindi film. Supposed to be a thought-provoking film, but it was clear that he was attempting to persuade Malti that such polyandrous relationships exist. In that film, the woman accepts both men who vied for her attention and delights them equally, and ends up pregnant as a result.

"Let me put the next movie in," he said, quickly changing the cassette and forwarding it to the appropriate parts. He narrated the movie's plot and gradually moved on to interesting bits. I could tell the language wasn't English, so not much could have been understood, but he was filling in the blanks for her. The film was a soft porn, but it contained enough nudity and sex to make it illegal in India. In another 30 minutes, they'd finished that movie as well. It was the film "The Key" by renowned director Tinto Brass. In the film, a husband and wife exchange fantasies through a secret diary. Wife accepts her daughter's boyfriend as a lover.

He went on to explain another movie's story, "I Love You Rosa," in which after the wife is widowed, she is supposed to marry her husband's younger brother. He mentioned another Italian film to her in which the father-in-law deflowers his son's girlfriend.

Then he went on to say that in some parts of India, it was customary for the wife to sleep with elderly males from her husband's family before sleeping with her own husband. He was clearly trying to persuade my lovely wife that it was not uncommon for a married woman to have sex with other men, especially if they were closely related to her husband's family. Despite the fact that she had initiated her affair with him, she appeared to be haunted by guilt for disappointing her husband. It was difficult to tell whether she was acting or not, but in retrospect, it was clear that a combination of curiosity and guilt was at work.

"Is he sleeping?" he inquired. I saw her give a quick smile and an approving nod. Kishore bhai crept over to the television and turned it off. Malti gently lifted my head and placed a supporting pillow beneath it. She covered me with a nearby comforter and turned her attention to him. Fortunately, there was a small zero watt bulb at the far end of the room that provided enough light for me to see what was going on.

Our daring neighbor returned, carefully straddling my head, and stood right where Malti was sitting, pressing his crotch into her face. His lungi (a light-colored cloth wrapped around one's waist) was pulled up to his knees. Malti moaned and sniffed his crotch, inhaling the musty aroma and murmuring, "Love this manly aroma!"

He boldly removed his lungi and placed it on the divan behind Malti (a backless sofa). Tilting up my head, I saw this huge man standing over me while my tiny wife was kissing his large genitals. He hurriedly removed his underwear and let it fall down on one of his legs, right beside my head, and I detected a pungent odor emanating from it that my wife described as manly.

His large genitals were now clearly visible, making the scene even scarier. Even in the dim light, I could see my wife nuzzling into his crotch, softly kissing it, inhaling his masculine odor, and making love to her prized possession. She licked his testicles and sucked on his large tool.

She lavished her love and affection on his magnificent cock and massive testicles. His penis appeared to be at least as thick as her forearm and significantly longer than the length of her palm. I could hear her slurps and the occasional smacking of her lips. After about 5 minutes, I noticed Malti focusing on his large testicles, and she soon turned around and pushed him forward, kissing his buttocks. Because there wasn't enough room, she scooted back and was now straddling my face.

Her butt was right above my nose, only 5 inches away, and her skirt had completely covered my face. I couldn't tell if she was doing it on purpose or was caught up in her lust. As she began licking his anus, I waited patiently. I couldn't see anything from where I was, so I concentrated on the sounds and her movements. Kishore bhai was enjoying the attention as he moaned a few times, but Malti was unfazed. She finally let go after about 10 minutes and went to the bathroom. He, too, joined her and returned after a quick change of clothes.

I couldn't tell if he'd ejaculated or not. I assumed he had, but I wasn't sure because I didn't hear any groans.They returned and quietly shifted to the divan behind me, where they slept. It was a small one for the two of them, but there was nowhere else for them to stay. I expected them to have their sex in another room, but they didn't.

He said, as they settled into each other's arms, "That was incredible. I've only had it a couple of times in the past."

"When did Aunt tell you about me?" he inquired.

"About six months ago," Malti replied.

"I adore Sanjay," she continued, "and I also enjoy adventure and refused to live the mundane life my parents promised me."

"Did you really know what you were getting yourself into?"

"Yes, I've heard Aunt's moans and screams a few times already," she chuckled softly.

"I didn't think you were the adventurous type," he explained, "you were more like a snobbish woman, scoffing at anything unrefined, but I saw that spark in your eyes and instinctively knew that you would be difficult but not impossible to get."

"What exactly did she tell you?" he inquired.

"She was torn between her love for Sanjay and her duty to you," Malti explained.

"What she was asking of me was outrageous, but she had to have a reason. So I didn't think too hard about it and just went with the flow."

"However, what did she say?"

"She promised me to you, but she wanted to keep you at bay for the first few years," Malti explained.

"It's no surprise she's irritated by your behavior," he said.

"Once I understood the circumstances, I couldn't justify breaking her promise," she explained.

There were kissing sounds, and it appeared they were going for the second round. I carefully looked back and saw that my neighbor had mounted my wife. He pushed his penis inside quickly; despite her grunt, she was fully prepared for him.

"Take it slowly," she pleaded, "we haven't had such a leisurely opportunity in a long time."

"So, what did you do?" he inquired, encouraging her to continue telling her story.

"It took me a few months to make up my mind, and I began communicating with you more frequently."

Kishore bhai was thrusting slowly, his entire body resting on top of her. I couldn't understand how my wife, who weighed only 45 kg (100 lbs), could handle the weight of this stallion, who weighed more than 100 kg (220 lbs).

"In order to make it a reality, I decided to make myself available to you," she went on.

"Once the wedding date was set and you had arranged for all of the logistics, it was clear to me that not giving you any chance would be unfair."

It was about a month before our wedding. I recall how frequently she came to our house during that time period. I didn't understand at the time, but it was becoming clear to me now.

"My mother-in-law was particular about it and shielded me the majority of the time," Malti explained.

"A few days before the wedding, I persuaded her that it was wrong to break a promise to someone who had helped us all along. I informed her that I had decided to make myself available and that she should be supportive and look after Sanjay."

"Oh, so it wasn't Aunt; it was you the whole time," he explained.

Malti was moaning softly now, as if his constant humping was having an effect. It had only been 5 minutes, but she was already showing signs of orgasm. I recognized her moans, which were far more intense than anything I could elicit from her.

Except for the occasional slapping and kissing sound, there was silence. She finally grunted and gripped him for a couple of minutes. Her entire body went limp after she climaxed.

"What are you made of?" she remarked, encouraging him to plough her again.

"These things must be done delicately," she continued, "so I thought it best to give you a chance and leave the rest to you."

"Do you believe Sanjay was acting similarly? Providing me with an opportunity in a subtle way?" He inquired.

"I know he's knocked out now," he added.

No wonder they had made sure I was sleepy and possibly given me something. Now I recall that I had inadvertently spilled a glass of liquor on the balcony and may not have received the full dose he had intended for me.

"He knows everything about your conquests, doesn't he?" she joked.

"So you're in agreement," he said.

"It's obvious to anyone that you're a lecher," she stated.

"Would you have succumbed to me if Aunt hadn't persuaded you?"

"Perhaps, but it would have taken a lot longer. There is no privacy, so nothing is possible without the support of family members."

"I sometimes wonder what made you fall for me," he said, "because you are such a beautiful and young woman."

"It's not difficult to understand, Kishore bhai; you know how to please a woman and how to pursue one," she explained.

"Such men captivate women."

Kishore bhai continued plowing while they talked leisurely. She appeared to be climaxing again after what seemed like 20 minutes. Kishore bhai joined her this time and ejaculated inside her. They parted ways, and Malti went to the bathroom for the second time, heaving a sigh of relief. They both stepped out onto the balcony for a few moments before returning inside.

They both watched a regular movie for a short time, but Kishore bhai and Malti were uninterested. They both decided to call it a night and fell asleep within a half-hour. Malti slept on the mattress next to me while he slept on the divan. She nuzzled into me and fell asleep quickly. I soon fell asleep as well.

After what seemed like another hour or so, I awoke to find Kishore bhai sitting up on the divan once more. Malti returned from the bathroom and climbed onto the divan, where she lay next to him. "God, you are so horny," she exclaimed as she kissed him.

"I'm madly in love with you, Malti," he said. She didn't respond, instead kissing him and having him mount her for the second time.

"Take your time," she said quietly.

I was envious of the chemistry he had with my wife. Despite the fact that Malti and I were quite close, I felt that he had made a lot more progress in a much shorter period of time.

"Was Aunt the same as me?" Malti inquired out of curiosity.

"Absolutely not. She was icy and tense all the time. It wasn't until the last ten years that she truly began to enjoy it."

"Can you tell me how old you are?" he inquired.

"21."

"She was 25 when it began, but she was too scared to enjoy it at the time," he explained, adding, "I am 45."

"You are my father's age, yes."

"Is it bothering you?"

"I couldn't have kept up with your younger self," she admitted.

"Tell me honestly, did you father Sanjay?" she enquired.

"You'd have liked it, wouldn't you?"He inquired, chuckling.

"Yes," she admitted in between moans, "it would have justified you mounting me."

"She was pregnant with him when they moved here, and she fell for me within the first month. Similarly to you," he elaborated.

"I fathered the other children, but she was a frail woman, and they did not survive."

Malti moaned incessantly as he stroked her. There was something about this man that could elicit such an emotional response from her. Even if I had stroked her furiously, she would not have reacted in this way. He wasn't in a hurry and let Malti enjoy the pleasurable sensations.

"Have you considered my mistress's proposal?" he asked, abruptly changing the subject. Malti didn't respond, so he increased his speed and began ploughing her with zeal. She pleaded after only a couple of minutes, "Oh, no. Take it easy."

As he settled into the rhythm, she said, "Kishore bhai It might not work."

"But are you willing to give it a shot?"

She agreed after a little prodding, whispering, "Hmm."

It wasn't clear to me why they were discussing some things in code language and others explicitly. They finished their sex after talking about a variety of topics; none of it seemed particularly interesting, or perhaps I was simply too tired to care. I didn't wake up until she laid next to me and kissed me. The strong stench of sperm hit me, as did the bitter taste, as Malti pushed her tongue into my mouth. I slowly opened my eyes and saw that it was pitch black and that Kishore bhai appeared to be snoring on the divan.

I kissed her back; she was all worked up now and kissed me passionately. She straddled my face after a minute and offered her pussy for me to smell and taste. The smell of sperm was even stronger, but much of it had begun to dry. I pushed my tongue into her vagina without hesitation. Malti shuddered and squeezed her vaginal muscles, releasing a thick, slimy substance onto my tongue.

Was that my very first cream pie? I'd imagined it several times, but after hearing some of their conversation, I began to wonder if I'd already tasted it. After about 5 minutes, she laid next to me and kissed my cheeks, whispering, "He mounted your wife."

We went to bed and didn't make much noise after that. Malti woke me up promptly at 6:00 a.m., and we went to sleep in our room. My mother left early in the morning and returned shortly after. I awoke at 9:00 a.m. Malti had already freshened up when I awoke lazily and hugged her from behind.

"Hmm," she said as she pushed me away. You stink; go take a bath first. I finished up my morning activities and returned. Malti greeted me with tea and freshly prepared upma. As she closed the door and sat down next to me, she smiled mischievously.

"How does it feel to live your fantasy?" she inquired. I was nervous and unsure what she was implying, but she clarified, "Gaur mounted your wife last night. I gave you a taste, but you were too tired to enjoy it."

"What happened?" I enquired.

"You'll have to use your imagination, Sanjay," she replied coyly as she kissed my cheeks and said, "Thank you!"

"You gave me two fantastic gifts yesterday; the first was about our financial freedom, and the second was Gaur."

"What have you decided?" I asked her as she went to get a glass of water for me.

Instead, she asked, "Do you have any regrets?"

"Not really," I admitted matter-of-factly, but her chemistry with him had clearly bothered me. Nonetheless, it was something I had fantasized about, so I can't say it didn't excite me.

We sat in front of each other after finishing our tea. Malti was stunning, but more importantly, she appeared content and exhausted. When I noticed a red mark on her neck, she quickly covered it up.

"Gaur's gift," she said quietly.

"I want to be Kishore bhai's fourth wife," she said, looking me in the eyes.

"You mentioned becoming a mistress earlier," I retorted.

"What he didn't get in the last 20 years of marriage, I want to give him in the next ten," she said.

"So he'll be coming with us even if we leave this place," she added.

She was poised, composed, direct, and solemn. I was drawn to the same sternness.

"There will be no more hide and seek," she added.

"Kishore bhai is 45 years old; there is no point in wasting time."

"Give it a little time," I advised.

"Before Navratri," she said again. Our conversation was cut short when our neighbors knocked on the door. After they had gone, I asked myself, "How am I supposed to do that?"

"That is your problem," she explained.

When my other building friends arrived, I left with them, leaving her to handle the housework. Despite the fact that I was conversing with my friends, I had only one thought on my mind. Navratri was only a week away; how could I possibly plan everything for her so quickly? As my mind ran through various scenarios, it became clear to me what she desired. After hearing Malti's reasoning last night, some of my rage toward my mother subsided.

As I previously stated, we were indebted to Kishore bhai, so allowing him to enjoy the pleasures of my wife was a sure way to pay it off. If my mother can do it, why shouldn't she expect the same from her daughter-in-law? Besides, she had given her ample warning prior to our marriage. Malti could have chosen not to marry me, but she did.

When did she begin having sex with him? What made her want to give me a taste of his sperm? It was strange because we had never discussed it. She clearly read my mind and was brave enough to try it without fear of the consequences. What if I had revolted or made a scene, but she had sex with him while I was present? She was taking risks, and so was Kishore bhai. Both wanted things to be out in the open as soon as possible.

Everyone in our building knew Kishore bhai was very close to our family; especially after my father died, he took very good care of us, just like an Uncle would. As a result, even though everyone thought of him as a lecher, no one expected Kishore bhai to have such thoughts about Malti. The truth was quite different, but I decided to use it to my advantage.

He was 45 years old, and Malti, who was only 21, could easily have passed for an actress. Due to a lack of privacy and opportunities, he had only mounted the Chawl's youngest woman on rare occasions. She was 33 years old at the time. She was a lovely lady, but clearly not in the same league as Malti. The 24-year age difference between the two, as well as the stark difference in their complexions and appearances, allayed our concerns. Some even suspected he fathered me, but thanks to Malti, I learned that wasn't the case.

We already had a metal door at the entrance to our section of the patio, which effectively separated both of our flats. We had mostly kept it open, only locking it during festive times when a lot of unwanted people came in. If we started using it, it would undoubtedly provide a lot more privacy and open up new opportunities.

That night, a movie was being shown on the ground behind our building. Normally, they would choose a Saturday night, but due to the previous night's rain, they had shifted to Sunday. Many families would sit on the ground with their chairs or thin mattresses to watch these films. Some would even look out the window that opened into the ground.

Kishore bhai would occasionally open the terrace for us to enjoy the view. Because the entrance to the storage room was behind our common patio door, I reasoned that the terrace would provide them with more privacy.

I went ahead with the plan, telling him how yesterday was a good experience but that I dozed off too quickly; perhaps we should watch the movie together. Malti raised her brows and smiled mischievously as she listened. My mother appeared to be clueless, and although it was not uncommon for people to watch movies from the terrace, she avoided climbing the narrow ladder.

I took it upon myself to clean up the terrace and prepare for the event. It was a small space, maybe 4 ft x 6 ft, because it was essentially the roof of two toilets. While the rest of the roof was tiled, it faced the back of the building and looked into the open ground behind our building. The tiled room ascended from the terrace and descended to the other side of the building. This roof protected the rooms at the base of our building's U-shape structure. Because the terrace lacked a light source, it was always dark, but light from the ground and neighboring structures provided some illumination.

Kishore bhai was the first person to reach the roof, carrying a small foldable chair. He'd placed it on the terrace, facing the ground, near the tiled roof. We walked in, and after some introductions, he said to me, "Why don't you grab some comforters and pillows from my room; they're right on the bed." I forgot to pick them up."

He didn't wait for me to walk away completely. Malti giggled softly and offered her lips for him to kiss as he hugged her from behind. As one descended the ladder, one could peer through a netted opening into the terrace. It wasn't practical, but it could be used to spy on someone on the terrace. I didn't waste any time and got everything I needed. Malti snatched them up and spread them across the tiled roof. Because there was only room for two people, I assumed Kishore bhai would sit in the chair, defeating the purpose. Before I could say anything else, he said, "Oh, please get the drinks. They're right there on the table."

When I returned with the drinks, they had both settled into their positions on the tiled roof and placed a pillow and a comforter in the chair for me.

"We've taken a seat on the balcony. Could you please take a seat in the stall?" Malti pleaded, "Please?"

We began with a few pre-party drinks to get the party started. As is customary, the film began after some delays. My head was just below the roof line as I sat in the chair, and if I slouched my back, they wouldn't have been able to see me. It was a unique position. Despite the fact that I felt I was in a hopeless situation, I felt I could have taken advantage of it. We talked for a while, but when the movie started, Malti said, "Let's watch the movie now."

That was the clue for me as I slouched in the chair, slowly rolled down, walked to the corner, and peered around the corner. I felt comfortable eavesdropping on them because my position was not in their direct line of sight. They were sitting pretty close together, and when I peered over, I noticed that he had leaned in and was fondling her breasts. She appeared relaxed and preoccupied with the movie rather than his actions. They were chatting, but I couldn't hear anything because of the distance and the environment.

They were both wrapped in a single comforter. They were already testing the limits. Is it clear that I told Kishore bhai that she was his to have? I had a pretext last night, but now I don't. I was experiencing angst while they both continued to watch the movie and talk to each other. A good half-hour passed with almost no action from them. I even wondered if I had only dreamed about what had happened the night before.

"Could you please get some water for me, Sanjay?" I overheard Malti inquire. I stood up, stretched my legs and back, and turned to face them.

"Are you enjoying it?" I inquired.

"Yes, it is comfortable," Kishore bhai replied.

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to make do with the chair today."

I smiled and walked away. I quickly grabbed a bottle of water and was disappointed to see that there was no action at all. Malti took the bottle, we talked for a few minutes, and she asked me to take the chair again so we could watch the movie.

"Sleep if you want," Kishore bhai said to me as I sank into my chair. I quickly returned to my vantage point and peered back onto the roof without delaying too long. That bastard was fingering my wife, and he seemed to be building up a crescendo as Malti threw her head sideways, trying to contain her moans while still enjoying the pleasurable sensations.

She clenched his hand and drew her feet back, squeezing it. She'd had a good time. He'd clearly been at it for at least 10-15 minutes. He drew his hand and offered her his to lick, as he had done the night before. Malti was a sex freak who eagerly lapped her own juices from his hand while pretending to fellate his fingers.

After that brief episode, they both needed a bio-break. Kishore bhai defiantly went to a corner and peed on the roof. He encouraged her to do the same, but she climbed down from the roof and drank some water instead. "He has been persuading me to have intercourse," she said after catching her breath.

"He already regards you as a cuckold and is asserting his claim," she added.

"You shared a comforter with him. What else could he possibly think?" I retaliated.

"If you didn't notice," she retorted quickly, "he climbed the roof behind me despite the fact that I told him you and I would take the balcony seat."

"All you had to do was ask me to climb down so you could sit next to him," she explained.

"Because I knew you wouldn't say anything, I made that request," she explained.

"Now go take that seat," she said as she went downstairs to freshen up. She took her time and returned after about 15 minutes. When she returned, I was still sitting in my chair.

"Aren't you dying to see me beneath him?" she smirked. They had paused the movie halfway through because there were some issues with the machine. While we were standing on the terrace, Kishore bhai was gazing at the stars.

"Didn't you want it?"

She ignored me and fumed inside for a few moments before saying, "Fine. It's too late to change anything."

"You started it," she said, "and here are the rules: sexually, I belong to him; no intercourse with you until I am pregnant, and no sex until I have been with him that day."

"How about..." When she cut me off, she said, "things will become clear gradually; no need to think too hard."

We waited for a few more minutes, and when the movie began, she took my assistance and climbed the roof once more.That was the end of it. I wondered if I'd lost my wife again. Every time I have a chance to reclaim my wife, I seem to squander it on purpose. Still, I could never give her the pleasure that this man could; given his age, I felt compelled to make that concession; otherwise, Malti's sacrifice would be in vain.

She sat right next to him, her knees folded and her head resting on her knees. There was some small talk, and Kishore bhai persuaded her once more. She listened to him while sneaking a glance at me and her surroundings. We were on the fifth floor of a five-story building, and there were no other tall buildings nearby, so we were safe. She leaned in and kissed him on the lips. Even in the dark, with the light from the screen behind me, I could see her fair skin against his dark skin, which was becoming lost in the sky's darkness. It was a gentle kiss at first, and she went back to watching the movie.

Kishore bhai had read the opportunity well and was relentlessly pursuing her. Given that she had the option of not returning to the roof, all three agreed that the next step was necessary.

He kissed her and fondled her breasts for another 15 minutes before finally pushing her on her back. After some intense kissing and fondling, he mounted my wife. There was complete disregard for my presence; he didn't even bother looking at where I was and simply mounted and began stroking her. He didn't care and pumped her as if he were alone in his bedroom with no one around. Malti was moaning loudly because she knew I was watching what was going on between them.

For what seemed like 25 minutes, he alternated between furious and leisurely strokes. I could barely hear her moans and grunts, but there was no doubt that they were reckless. He ejaculated quickly after that and collapsed on top of her. He lifted himself up and straddled her face, offering his penis to clean after a minute or so. He had no doubt in his mind that he had completely duped me and could have taken my wife with no repercussions. Soon after, he returned to his original position and fully reclined. Malti stood up, tidied herself, and began descending the roof.

I sat on the chair as she descended from the roof, knelt next to me, and kissed me without saying anything. She stuffed all of his sperm into my mouth and kissed me passionately.

"He was gushing like a geezer today," she said, pulling my hand and saying, "come check it out."

She stood there with her legs spread, inviting me to clean her. The strong stench hit me as soon as I ducked under her skirt. She held my head carefully and placed her pussy, which was covered by a pantie, right on top of my lips. The juices had permeated that shear pantie, and she soaked me with the slimy substance as she slowly spread it on my lips. The raw odor was undeniable. She slid the gusset aside and slapped my cheeks, asking me to open my mouth, and then placed her pussy lips on top of my wide open mouth. It poured glob after glob into my mouth. I had no choice but to eat everything. My nostrils had been invaded by the rancid, bitter taste and pungent odor. There was no getting around the fact that I was a complete cuckold.

I painstakingly cleaned her pussy and then retreated. Kishore bhai had passed out by that point. I roused him from his slumber and we descended the stairs. It was after 12:00 a.m., so Kishore bhai suggested, "Why don't you guys sleep in my room like last night?" There's no need to wake your mother."

She looked at me, and when I didn't respond, she went to his room rather than ours. We got into bed after a quick freshening up. Malti had placed the mattress in the front room, and Kishore bhai was scheduled to sleep on the divan as usual.

She extended a glass of water to me. After taking a sip, I wondered if there was anything in it and walked into the bathroom to get my watch. During the process, I spilled all of the water in the basin and had to start over. They had no idea that I had duped them yet again, this time on purpose. I thought so; there didn't seem to be any need for pretense.

We slept completely in the dark. Malti kissed my cheek and whispered, "I love you."

"You did the right thing," she said as she stroked my penis.

"A few more of these, and he'll realize you want him to mount your wife."

We fell asleep quickly. I wasn't expecting any more fireworks, but the creaking of the divan jolted me awake. My wife was gone from my side; she appeared to be on the divan with him.

"Kishore bhai, what you did today was outrageous," she exclaimed.

"Malti, he obviously wants you to mate with me," he retorted. I recognize his personality; he will turn a blind eye to whatever is going on between the two of us."

He penetrated her again, and she grunted. They got into a groove. After a few moments, he announced, "From tomorrow on, there will be no intercourse for him. His only job is to make you happy orally."

"Hmm.." she said, agreeing.

He fucked her for another 20 minutes or then I had the exact same repeat of the experience. This time since I was awake, I understood that Malti let him doze off before feeding me his semen. Clearly, Kishore bhai was not aware of our tacit understanding. Next morning, we were up very early since Malti had to go to work.

We got a chance to connect in the evening; both of us decided to hit the bed quite early since we both were exhausted with movie nights. My mother had some late evening bhajans, so we used the opportunity to talk about everything that had transpired in the last two nights.

"It's better if I tell you the truth," she began.

"Like many girls from liberal backgrounds, I was exposed to such pleasures at a young age. I was still a virgin, but I had some sexual experience. I played with my cousins, but my maternal Uncle taught me a lot."

"I have always loved you and still love you," she continued, "even if it does not appear so."

"Your mother made it clear that if I married you, I would have to take care of his needs as well."

"Did she really say that?"

"Yes, but only in a roundabout way."

"I have heard your mother's moans and sounds a couple of times. So I knew he was man enough to sleep with a young lady like me."

"As time went on," she continued, "I realized he could give me sexually what you could never give me."

"But your mother began to feel guilty, and she began to discourage or at least pressurize me to postpone relationships with him until after a few years of our marriage," she explained.

I wondered if what I had heard the night before was true, but I couldn't take anything at face value because Malti understood me so well and knew what wouldn't go down well with me.

"Oh, she did," I remarked.

"You were deeply indebted to him, and breaking her promise wasn't the right thing to do," she explained.

"I wouldn't be the right daughter-in-law for this family if I did that. Besides, it didn't appear that life was fair to him either. Neither did he help you folks thinking that one day you would marry such a pretty woman. So it's his fate, I reasoned," she said.

"So you felt sorry for him?"

"It's not a pity; it's just being fair. He was equally entitled to my body," she said.

"You had over a year and several chances to enjoy my physical pleasures, but you didn't take them. I needed to give him at least a month before we married."

"He, too, faltered; having taken me for my wedding gift - the dress he finally gifted me now - he squandered two opportunities."

"On the day of our wedding, I wondered if things would ever change; perhaps your mother was just scaring me away from this marriage. My perplexity was short-lived, as I ran into him in the locker room, and he wasted no time in making his move."

"He exuded the confidence and arrogance of a man who knew he owned me. He kissed me passionately for more than 5 minutes, reminding me that I belong to him, not to you."

"He kissed me in his room again that afternoon, and he kissed me again in the evening. I paid him a visit in the morning, and he unceremoniously took me on the divan.

His foul breath and pungent body odor had permeated my entire existence for more than a half-hour as he kissed me deeply with his morning breath. I wasn't disgusted, despite the fact that I should have been. My body had never felt those sensations before. Regardless of his hygiene, I learned that he was gifted and deserved to mate with a beautiful woman like me."

"That's how I lost my virginity to him," she explained, adding, "you did end up living your fantasy."

I was surprised to hear her story; her eyes were expressionless, so I asked, "Did you wish it had happened differently?"

"Perhaps, but what happened had its own allure, and I thoroughly enjoyed the episode, even if it may not appear to be so."

"We had a few episodes here and there after that, but not until Saturday night," she explained.

"Mother wasn't very encouraging."

"Didn't you say she pushed you?"

"She was conflicted. She did take me to the doctor and get me my vitamins and fertility drugs. She already had Kishore bhai on a libido-boosting medication diet, which she expected me to continue."

"And she did, in fact, give me condoms on the first night."

"Do you have any regrets about marrying me? Or sleeping with him?" I inquired.

"No, I adore you. So marrying you was a good decision."

"He may be a dark, ugly, fat, stinky pig, but he made me proud to be a woman. Even if you mounted me four times, you couldn't give me a quarter of the pleasure he does in a single session."

"I didn't want a boring life, so I don't regret it."

"What should I do now?" I inquired.

"I'll tell you what. Isn't that your dream?"

She calculated her words and said, "He will take your wife as his wife." You should give him permission. He appears to have been born to enjoy my youthful body. Allow him."

My mother intervened at that point, and we decided to call it a night and sleep. We did talk about the circumstances and background a little more, but the gist of it was the above conversation. Malti woke me up early in the morning by fondling and kissing my penis. I kissed her without thinking, and she soon began kissing me deeply as she stroked me. I attempted to roll her so I could mount her, but she pushed me back, saying, "You will not get anything more than this."

"Only stale kisses for you," she said sensually as she kissed me. Her and my stale breath made me acutely aware of what she was implying.

"You won't be able to taste my pussy until I've had sex with him," she added.

"Ignore the mounting. It's only for real men," she explained. Hearing that, I ejaculated. I spilled my sperm after only two minutes of stroking. She wiped her fingers across my lips and went back to bed.

Malti meant what she said and made certain that I did not receive anything more than she promised. Kishore bhai was away on a business trip for a couple of days, so things seemed a little slow, but Navratri began on Friday night, only three days later. I still didn't have a plan, but I knew Malti would assist me in improvising something on the fly.

The festival of Navratri was celebrated with great fanfare in our society because Gujrathi made up 95 percent of the population and this was their main festival. We had a large grassy area behind our building where everyone congregated to play Garba and Dandia dances (it is an ethnic dance of Gujrat that had become popular in Mumbai). The celebrations would last until very late at night, with very loud music playing until the early hours of the morning. As strange as it may sound, it was a perfect occasion because many people would be fast asleep or outside; the building would be deserted, and if she paid him a visit one of those nights, no one would notice. Even if my mother was awake, the loud noise would surely mask their frantic activity right next door.

Malti prepared a lavish dinner for us that evening. My mother insisted that she start eating a boiled egg for dinner as well. I noticed her making thali for Gaur. On the plate were two boiled eggs for him.

"That's a natural aphrodisiac," she said, pointing to the eggs, "and this is a booster," she said, mixing some powder into his curry.

She had mentioned it before, but I hadn't noticed it until now. Normally, we would not eat non-vegetarian food on the first day of Navratri, but Malti appears to have persuaded my mother to do so for that day. He had just returned from his trip in the evening and was looking forward to the lavish dinner.

I saw my lovely bride put on the gown that Gaur had given her. It was a traditional Chaniya Choli in cream with intricate embroidery in gold and red threads. Her deep red scarf had a nice thick border with gold embroidery. It was unusually long, covering her stomach and breasts and resting on her head, with some spilling over to the opposite shoulder. She wore a traditional nose ring with a chain to match.

Her forehead was adorned with a "Maang Tikka," which was essentially a large, intricately designed pendant that rested on the brow but was held in place by a chain that ran along the center parting of her hair. Her outfit was completed by a thick necklace that matched her elaborate Choli and a plethora of red bangles on her hands. She had borrowed the jewelry from a friend; it was fake, but it looked great on her.

She looked stunning without makeup, but her friends insisted on a little bit, so she obliged. Still, she refused to wear lipstick, claiming that her natural lip color was far more appealing. My mother was always pleased to have such a lovely daughter-in-law; Indian families are obsessed with skin complexion; a fair daughter-in-law will bear fair children.

Everyone on the floor complimented her beautiful attire; she could have passed for a Gujarathi, they said. Kishore bhai praised her as well, and I noticed that she posed a little bit for his pleasure, without attracting the attention of others. He had arranged for a private photographer to photograph his fourth wife. We all posed, but clearly the photographer had taken a few pictures of her and a few with him. She was the center of everyone's attention because it was only a few months after our marriage.

As the crowds around our rooms thinned and people began to stream out to the ground behind us for the main event, I sensed Malti wanted a quiet moment with him. She had made a point of dressing perfectly for the occasion. Many in our Chawl had already commented that she could have passed for a Gujarathi bride. My mother had already left, accompanied by other elderly women from our Chawl. She was sleeping with our acquaintances on the ground floor of the building, who weren't as bothered by the festivities. I excused myself, saying that I had a few things to organize for the event downstairs and that she should join me after the photo session. The photographer continued to take a few more pictures of my lovely wife.

It was a clear signal for Malti and him to make the most of the time they had before descending the stairs and joining us downstairs. As I walked out of our chawl, I waited for the photographer to leave. I was at the far end of our chawl, which was completely dark because everyone was downstairs enjoying the festivities. The photographer left about 5 minutes later, and Kishore bhai closed the main metal door that covered our section of the patio.

Malti remained in his room. When he shut his door, it was clear that he understood what I was saying. I went downstairs and got to work on the arrangements. After about an hour, a boy informed me that I was needed upstairs. I dashed upstairs, where Malti awaited me in our room. Kishore bhai's room was locked; he appeared to be at the event.

As soon as I walked in, she turned off the light and latched onto my lips. The familiar smell of sperm hit me immediately, as did the bitter taste of his sperm. She pushed me back on our mattress, straddled my face, and offered her pussy to lick after our intense and deep kissing. It was super slick with their juices, and it gushed down even more as she squeezed her vagina. It all came to a close quietly. As soon as I was finished, she left to clean herself up.

In the next ten minutes, she tidied herself and smiled as she welcomed me. I had already cleaned myself up and was waiting for her. She sat next to me, smiling, and said, "Thank you." That was a thoughtful gesture to leave me alone with him."

Malti felt the same way, tired but relaxed. The redness on her face that I had noticed earlier had faded.

"Are you content?" I inquired.

"A great deal. Now he knows you've given up your wife to him," she explained. There was a pensive silence that served as a reminder that we had gone too far down the rabbit hole and that there was no turning back.

"I am in my fertile period and could be pregnant right now. If not within the next few days, I will most certainly be."

"What transpired?" I inquired.

"We had sex," she explained, "I licked and tongued his dirtiest hole; it was my way of letting him know I was his slut."

"Come on, let's go," she said quickly, brightening the mood.

As soon as we stepped into the arena, everyone noticed us. Malti's face had a glow to it that told me it was the right decision to hand over my wife to him. My mother would not have approved, but I felt that half-measures were just as dangerous. We danced with abandon, as if we had both accepted the fate that lay ahead of us. Several men in our building and neighborhood complimented me on how beautiful she was and how fortunate I was to be her husband. Some men even approached her under false pretenses in order to strike up a conversation with her.

Some women envied her, but Malti was such a nice and soft-spoken woman that the majority of their jealousy and envy faded as they got to know her better. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say she was the life and soul of the party that night. My mother witnessed some of it and was overjoyed to discover that she was so well-liked in the crowd. That evening, many of her photographs were taken, and many of them took advantage of the opportunity to be in the same frame as her.

During this time, Kishore bhai would be either scouting for a new paramour or boning one. However, he was calm and composed this time, and some of his close confidantes noticed the difference in his demeanor as well.

"Are you already over the hump?" They joked as they sipped tea in their private corner.

"I am ready to settle down for the last time," he said.

"Another one bites the dust then," one of them remarked. They all laughed and moved on to another topic. Kishore bhai, who was usually loud and chatty, was unusually calm and quiet. He was no longer interested in the women from that gathering. The event always drew the pickiest of women, who were an eye-candy for such lechers and others who thought of themselves as decent men.

"What did you do to Kishore bhai?" When I had a chance to talk to Malti alone.

"He is calm, quiet, and composed, and he has lost interest in these women."

"Well, he now has a young, beautiful, and loving wife," she responded.

"However, does he deserve you? There are so many here who are far more deserving of you than he is," I said.

"Don't get me wrong," I joked, "I'm happy for him. Even on our wedding night, he deserved to mount you in my fantasies."

Malti smiled; she knew she had me wrapped around her little finger even before we married, but now she could make me dance whenever she wanted.

She sensually rolled her tongue in her mouth before whispering to me, "If you're wondering if I don't mind being crushed under his weight every single night; even multiple times a night, the answer is yes!"

"If you're wondering if I like his pungent body odor, the answer is yes, and if you're wondering if I'd kiss him every morning with his morning breath, the answer is yes!

"And I will continue to conceive from him until either of us dies or reaches menopause," she stated emphatically.

She was aware that she was informing me of disturbing news, with a strong emphasis on shocking me, so she clung to my hand and let it sink in. As some of the couples came in and said hello, she said, "You may think I am saying all of this because we are indebted to him."

"Even if your mother hadn't pushed me, I would have been sexually attracted to him. Even on the night of our wedding."

"Even if you weren't a cuckold, I would have conceived at least once, if not twice, from him."

"Don't feel bad," she said softly, "more than half of the men here don't deserve their pretty, young wives." Our society's delicate fabric has swept these issues under the rug. Only a few men are as honest as you."

It was fascinating to learn how Malti viewed our situation. She was liberal in her thinking, independent in her viewpoints, and possessed an abundance of courage in the face of any situation. Because a vanilla lifestyle was not her cup of tea, I inquired, "Would you have married him?" i.e. if he had proposed to you?"

She rolled her eyes and shook her head without thinking, wondering where it came from. She had never considered such a possibility and had no intention of doing so. I was relieved to hear this because I was worried that, based on their chemistry, she might abandon me for him.

"He had the potential to seduce me," she admitted.

"Before our wedding?"

She gave a nod.

"How much before?"

"3 years," she replied, "isn't that when we started going out?"

"But you decided to marry me only a year before our wedding," I remarked.

"Marriage and sex are not the same thing. I was ready for sex with you for the last three years," she explained.

"However, don't compare yourself to him," she cautioned.

"He is a charmer," she continued, "sizing up every woman he meets but focusing on the ones who are vulnerable to his advances."

"Like the ones who have been married for a few years and have lost their mojo but are still relatively young."

"With me, he started charming me right away," she continued, "but it was fleeting and casual. He only shifted gears when our relationship was on solid ground and we were seriously considering our future together."

"So, he could have been mounting you on a regular basis but we hadn't even kissed?"

She laughed and nodded. The crowd had begun to disperse, and someone suggested that we go out to a local food joint and grab something to eat. Some people chose to return, while others continued on their journey. Everyone left us alone because they knew we were a newlywed couple. We continued our conversation as we walked slowly towards the joint.

"How did you come to embrace this promiscuous lifestyle, Malti?" I inquired. We had discussed it earlier, but clearly neither of us had the courage to be completely honest with each other.

"Thoughts of a promiscuous lifestyle are quite recent, Sanjay," she responded, "they were not there when we first started going out and had not been there even when we got married."

"Having an affair and occasionally sleeping with him is not the same as what we are about to embark on. I am always available to him in this regard."

"About a year ago, I realized he didn't have the best intentions for me," she continued.

"It's one thing to look at someone and quite another to believe they have every right to court you."

"Once Mother told me about him, I realized why you two weren't protecting me from him."

"Women fall for such men who pursue them regardless of whether they are deserving or not. Kishore bhai was definitely in that category."

"Once I discovered your cuckolding tendencies, the writing was on the wall."

"If you've ever wondered how he got into bed with me despite all his flaws, it was because he thought and acted as if he deserved me, another man's wife."

We ran into Kishore bhai at the joint and he joined us; we spent a little time chit chatting about mundane things and then he suggested we go for a short walk to the Marine lines. Even though it was late, he summoned a taxi and we were soon on our way. Kishore bhai sat in the backseat with Malti, while I sat in the front. At every turn, he made it clear who was the alpha in our relationship. When he arrived, he directed me to pay the fare, exited the taxi with her, and began walking towards the farthest corner, leading Malti to some of the stones below. I trailed behind him as he confidently placed one hand on her waist and guided her down the stony path.

The sound of crashing sea waves had completely drowned out the background noise, and we were alone in the darkness. The glittering lights behind us illuminated the rocky path around us, but it didn't provide enough visibility beyond about 10 feet. He sat with her on one of the rocks overlooking the sea, holding her by the waist and sitting in close proximity to her. As I took a step back and faced them, his face was completely obscured by the darkness, but I could still see Malti. She appeared nervous but at ease in that position.

"Do you know what's going on?" he inquired. I couldn't understand what he was saying, so I remained silent. Malti avoided looking at me.

"As your neighborly stallion, I am serving your wife and assisting you with your bedroom duties. It doesn't appear that you have what it takes," he clarified.

"This is not unusual for me," he continued, "you know I have served a lot of women and it has never bothered their husbands; if anything, it has only benefited them."

"In this case, however, I have grown fond of her, and she sees the value in having a long-term relationship with me."

"Do you agree, Malti?" he asked, looking at her. She simply stared at him and offered her lips. He pressed his lips against hers and kissed her passionately. There was no pretense and no rush to finish it. It was completely natural and lasted about a minute.

"So, here are your options," he said confidently.

"You divorce her and she marries me," he said, pausing to gauge my reaction before adding, "or you stay married to her but accept that she is my woman and that I come first for her."

For the first time, I gulped the saliva and asked, "Malti, what would you like?"

She waited for his approval before speaking, then stated, "We have already begun this journey. We can coexist as mature adults. Can't we?"

He looked at me, waiting for my response. "I agree," I said, "You've been like a father figure to my family, so I think keeping it in the family makes sense."

"Of course it makes sense," he replied.

"You know I'm not husband material; you can handle those responsibilities as long as you understand and agree that she has another husband who is far more important sexually in this early stage of marriage."

"Do you understand?"

"She isn't looking for sex from you," he stated unequivocally.

"Your role is to be her partner, to emotionally bond with her, and to take care of all the household duties that a husband is responsible for. Of course, as a man, you are entitled to some sexual relief, which you will receive if you behave."

Kishore bhai was equally emphatic in communicating the new mode of operation to me as Malti was.

"Malti may jerk you off occasionally," he added, "but don't count on it; she has a lot of other responsibilities, so you may have to do it on your own a lot of the time."

"Do you agree?" he inquired. I gave a nod.

"I can't hear you," he said.

"I agree, Kishore bhai," I said.

"Didn't I tell you, Malti, he agrees?" he asked, smiling.

"Sit here," he said, indicating the spot next to her, and kissed her. I sat silently as my beloved wife kissed my next-door neighbor. It was a strange sensation. They ignored my presence and kissed for a long time, making me feel like a third wheel, which I was.

Malti turned to me and softly kissed my cheek, breaking the kiss. She then nibbled on my earlobe and said, "Dreamt about being his cuckold, didn't you? You are now!"

"Tell him what I need as fees, Malti," he said.

She looked at him with a glum expression and said to me, "he expects cuckold husbands to give him a blow job as a token of appreciation - on a regular basis."

"What?"

He had moved away to give us a private moment to talk about it. That thought had crossed my mind, but I couldn't have lived it because I wasn't gay.

"I am not gay," I protested to her.

"Neither is he," she reasoned, "it's his method of establishing pecking order."

"Please don't cause a scene, Sanjay," she wailed.

"I persuaded him to let me assist you by taking part in it."

"But I don't like it, and I can't do it; I certainly can't keep doing it," I replied.

"Once he realizes you will never question his authority, he will stop. "Believe in me," she said.

When she realized I had resigned, she called him back and asked him to take a seat. "He is not gay and derives no pleasure from such an act, but he understands the purpose behind it - putting him in his place, so he will cooperate but would require my assistance," she explained.

She invited me to join her on her knees in front of him. I knelt in front of him, reluctantly.

"Open the zipper," she said softly to me.

"Remember, this gives your wife heavenly pleasure," she said as she led my hands to the zipper and pulled down. Kishore bhai unbuttoned his trousers and pulled them down.

The pungent smell that my wife was such a fan of hit me and turned me off but she pushed my head forward and pushed down his underwear with another hand. His large specimen was almost erect.

"By pleasuring him," she whispered,"you are admitting that he is the real man in our relationship."

He took a step back as soon as my lips were close to his penis and I detected the strong stench of his piss. Malti leaned forward, taking his penis in her mouth. She drew him in and bobbed her head up and down on his genitalia. She took my hand to the base of his penis, and I realized for the first time that he was a truly gifted stallion. It was as thick as her wrist, and I double-checked by holding her wrist and comparing them. After about a minute, she drew me in and kissed me passionately. After a few moments, this thick penis began probing our lips and eventually made its way between them. Malti had a firm grip on me, so I had no choice but to continue kissing his thick penis as she did.

She pushed him back, allowing him to sit on the rock, and began sucking on his testicles. After a minute or so, she kissed me again, then proceeded to lick his anus and kissed me again.

We returned shortly after. It was 2:00 a.m.; there was no pretense, and we both entered his room with the explicit intent of sleeping there. The two Divans were assembled in the shape of a single bed with the clear intention of sleeping two people on the bed. "Today is my wedding night with your wife," he said. Make the bed for me."

He motioned to some new bed sheets and flower petals, which he intended to sprinkle on the bed in accordance with tradition. Despite the fact that I did not have that privileged experience, I obliged him. Malti freshened up in the bathroom and he sat on the balcony.

"You can sleep here," he said, "but remember this is not a party for you; if I catch you watching us, you will have to finish your blowjob this time."

He tossed me a black eye pad to cover my eyes and block out the light.

"Now get your wife here," he said.

Malti was brushing her teeth in the other room and quickly rinsed her mouth before grabbing my head and asking, "Is this good?"

I had told her that mouth fresheners were obsolete and that mouthwash was far too clinical. The best way was to keep one's tongue clean and to brush one's teeth twice a day. She was simply ensuring that her breath was clean but not clinical.

"Could you please smell if that is clean as well?" she inquired. I knelt and sniffed my wife's vagina. She had cleaned herself, and she appeared to be relatively clean.

She had her scarf over her face and asked me to lead her into another room.

"Wish you had done this on our first night," she said quietly.

Despite the fact that he had mounted her several times, the allure of the first night remained. I wondered if she would have entertained such a thought on our wedding night. Not just having sex, but the entire ordeal. I had a feeling her answer would be a yes, but I wasn't certain.

I led her to the bed and summoned Kishore bhai. He took a couple of cotton balls from the cupboard and told me to plug my ears as well. What was the point of my remaining in the room, I wondered, but didn't argue.

I slept at my place, which was a little south of where I was on movie night. I was careful not to completely block my ears, as I did want to overhear them. It was very dark with the pad over my eyes. As he climbed on top of the bed, the divan creaked. What follows is my own perception and, to a lesser extent, what Malti later confirmed. As you may have guessed, she generally refused to discuss anything that happened between him and her, claiming that "a cuckold has a fertile imagination and can rarely tell the difference between reality and fantasy."

She was still fully dressed for the occasion, so when he lifted the veil to see her face, he couldn't help but exclaim, "Gorgeous!"

They may have kissed briefly before he began assisting her in removing jewelry.

"You are absolutely stunning, Malti. What made you marry him? You could have gotten someone much better."

The more her clothes came off, the more I heard him repeat himself in various ways. I hadn't seen Malti fully naked, so Kishore bhai was about to get his chance if he hadn't already.

"You are the priciest statue of Khajuraho; it appears your sculptor took time and care while sculpting you," he whispered after gazing at her naked body for several minutes.

She laughed and said quietly, "It took such a long time to appreciate my beauty."

"You were too preoccupied with conquering," she added.

After that, they kissed and made love. For me, it was a rather lengthy ordeal, possibly lasting an hour. During this episode, Malti was very vocal, as was Kishore bhai, who aggressively pumped her. Aside from his large tool, he was extremely talented in how he used it. Not to mention his stamina and overall athleticism. Throughout the episode, he stroked her for nearly 40 minutes. Even if I could last that long, it would have been difficult for me to do it.

Malti did not return to me, but slept on the bed with him. They had another round a couple of hours later, which was shorter, perhaps another 30 minutes or so, and this time she returned to me. She made out with me, and the combination of our foul breaths and his sperm was so potent that I stiffened in seconds and ejaculated in a minute.

"This is why you need him to mount your wife - with such small equipment and no staying power, you could never have pleased me," she explained.

We left shortly after that and went to sleep in our room. My mother didn't arrive until late in the morning, allowing us to catch up on sleep. We were both high, so we didn't need as much rest or sleep. The next morning, seeing Malti's contented but slightly tired face convinced me that we had made the right decision. The entire Navratri passed in a similar fashion, and it appeared as if my mother was getting a sense of what was going on.

Fireworks became more intense as Malti's Diwali vacation began soon after Navratri ended. Every afternoon, Kishore bhai mounted her with complete impunity. My mother's presence in the other room, as well as the locked metal door, provided them with the privacy they required. Kishore bhai began mounting her three times per day, each session lasting about an hour. Malti was having exactly the kind of sex she needed and deserved.

Her friends from the building noticed her fancy ankles and beautiful toe rings around Diwali. They were all gathered in our room, inspecting some of our most recent purchases. Kishore bhai had bought a nose ring in the South Indian style, as well as matching earrings. They were simple designs that complemented her face and were intended to be worn on a daily basis. She replaced my small earrings with these, which were more delicate and meant to be worn on special occasions. I purchased a better mangalsutra for her because her current one was thin and fragile. Given the rough play she was engaging in with Kishore bhai on a daily basis, they would not have lasted long.

In addition, I had purchased a gold chain for her with a lovely heart-shaped pendant with a diamond in the center. The two heart lines from above seemed to be holding the diamond in place while it rested at the bottom of the heart. From one angle, it appeared to be the letter "K," with the diamond placed where the two lines of the "K" met the vertical line. The overall heart could be interpreted as her womb, with the other lines representing Kishore bhai's penis and the diamond representing his seed growing in her womb. She recognized the analogy and appreciated my forethought. Fortunately, no one else had such a vivid imagination and thus couldn't read it any other way than through my love for her.

Her friends were impressed and lavished her with praise. They bemoaned the fact that her husbands were not wealthy enough to afford such frills. They were particularly taken with her toe ring, which featured a cuckoo bird as a reminder of my cuckold status. As they lamented their misfortune, I remarked, "Not everyone is as beautiful as she is, and not everyone can be such an understanding and loving husband."

Another special occasion that was celebrated with zeal was Diwali. The large open area between the buildings was cleared for some sort of pooja (a ritualistic way of worshiping god), and we had the honor of performing it because we were the newly married couple in the building. Malti was required to fast for the entire day and abstain from sexual activity. We finished our pooja duties by 10:00 p.m., and then the card games began. It was a family tradition for even women to play cards. We weren't very good at it, so we avoided them. Malti tried a few hands but quickly gave up. Kishore bhai was an expert at the game, but he excused himself around 12:00 a.m., claiming that he wasn't feeling well.

That night, from 12:30 to 2:30, he had a 2-hour session in his room with the dim zero watt bulb turned on. I was allowed to observe them, and for the first time, I saw his magnificent penis and how much my wife adored it. He seeded her twice in a row, with only a half-hour break in between. They ignored me as if I weren't even there. It was quite dark but enough for me to understand why their union was predestined.

He fell asleep soon after, and Malti returned to me, and we had a slow love that night. I saw her completely naked for the first time that night. It was for his benefit, but she allowed me to observe the proceedings as a Diwali gift. I couldn't believe I was so lucky to have such a lovely wife, and I couldn't help but envy Kishore bhai's good fortune.

"I've missed my period," she said softly after kissing me.

"You're going to have a child."

Malti celebrated her 22nd birthday later that month. A woman who stated unequivocally that she did not intend to start a family soon after marriage became pregnant within the first three months of her marriage. If Kishore bhai had not been in our lives, she would have most likely delayed her pregnancy for at least five years. From a practical standpoint, she still thought that delaying would have been a wise decision because our small flats didn't have enough space or conveniences to raise a child comfortably.

I was concerned about her ability to bear a child at such a young age. Furthermore, the first trimester is delicate and requires special attention.

"I know," I said with a smile.

"You must exercise caution while having sex with him."

She kissed my lips softly and said, "That's not how it works."

"How, then?" I inquired.

"Have you noticed he's gone monogamous?" she asked.

"It's because I'm young and beautiful, but more importantly, I'm always available for him. So it doesn't matter if I'm pregnant or not; it's all the same to him."

"But it's his child," I pointed out.

"No, it's your child; it's our child," she insisted.

"He is an alpha male who only wants to breed and enjoy life's pleasures. He will not accept responsibility, at least not as seriously as you would."

"His previous wife was unable to conceive, which is a cardinal sin for an alpha male's wife, and she was also unable to understand his needs."

"She wasn't particularly attractive either. Only someone like me could have kept him restrained for a short period of time; not forever."

"But you were never the traditional type," I countered, "and I never thought you wanted to simply enjoy life's pleasures."

"I'm not sure I fully understand myself yet, but at this point I believe God has given me this young and beautiful body solely for the purpose of mating with him. Our meeting appears to have been planned to pave the way for my union with him. It appears that with me, he will finally be happy and receive everything he deserves."

Chapter 3 - A Trip Down Memory Lane

Even if she didn't make much sense at the time, the significance of her comments began to dawn on me as time passed. My mother moved back to our hometown to offer us more space, but it also gave them more freedom. My wife was nothing short of a sex freak, which I realizedwhen I finally was introduced to her.

She slept with him at all hours of the day and night during the first year of our marriage, ensuring that she had plenty of sex. She began to open up again at the end of the second trimester. Her body was displaying the consequences of carrying a child in her belly; she wasn't as agile as she used to be and was easily weary. Gaur still required relief, so she would stay with him for an hour and a half before returning to me. We used to have extended pillow discussions on certain nights. Kishore bhai admired how comfortable I was conversing with her and never insisted on having sex with her. He recognised the importance of emotional bonding for the child's and mother's well-being, and he urged us to sleep together. It was only then that I realised what had happened and why Malti seemed to enjoy this lifestyle without hesitation.

Despite my presence, he would still wake us up and take her in our bed on several occasions. Malti was enamoured with him and never turned him down. She freely provided her body to him if he required it, and she even tried to enjoy the episode as much as she could. As she detailed the conditions, it finally dawned on me that this was a highly sexy arrangement for her, and she got as much pleasure from the circumstances as she did from actual intercourse. Despite the fact that she was sleeping with me, she would return to him on occasion and wake him up for another session. It seemed as if I was her friend and Kishore bhai was her genuine mate.

She became more aware of my desires and began jerking me off, at least a few nights a week. She insisted that I didn't get too used to it because cuckolds didn't receive a lot of leniency. She rebuffed my fears every time I asked if she married me because I was a cuckold, but after a lot of relentless probing, she finally started revealing the events that got both of us into this lifestyle. We had lengthy and detailed chats during the sixth month of her pregnancy, when she was no longer interested in sex with Gaur. I'm sharing it as a blend of my narrative and minimum dialogues for the benefit of readers.

Malti was a very lovely girl when she was younger, and she had been sought since she was a teenager. She grew up in a strict family, which protected her from negative influences. Her puberty was a little later than expected, which worried her parents, but once it arrived, she quickly transformed into a young woman. She became a magnet for all of the lads in her vicinity, and even some of the men flocked to her. She began playing kissing games with her cousins when she was in eighth grade. She came from a big family and had a lot of cousins, so it was simple for them to hang around without anyone observing them.

Some of her cousins tried to push the boundaries during the games, but she always kept them in check and didn't let them touch her breasts or butt. She was very careful not to engage in tongue-play. A local boy from her neighbourhood was the first to properly kiss her. She noticed him leaving a neighbor's house when just the neighbor's wife, Roopa, was present. Malti was threatened and told to keep her mouth shut. Malti's suspicions turned out to be correct.

Malti spotted them again on their terrace as the lady hurriedly descended the stairs. Malti was alone on the terrace with him when he cornered her and began kissing and touching her. Malti didn't know how to stop him and tried to push him away, but he kissed her firmly. She became sexually excited and began to respond to his kisses. When the boy realised he had her under his control, he began pushing his tongue into her mouth during the kisses. Malti let him in and kissed him clumsily, mimicking the boy's actions.

Fortunately, Roopa, the same woman, reappeared, and he was forced to let her go. Malti was taken back to her apartment by the woman, who consoled her. Malti was sexually stimulated, but also shaken by the experience. She was on the verge of being raped if the woman hadn't arrived on time.

The neighbor's wife had been married for over a decade and had no children. She was attempting this method of pregnancy because they couldn't afford the clinical methods. Her husband was supportive of this method, and after experimenting with a few men from his family and friends circle, she eventually chose this boy for the purpose.

She taught Malti how to control her urges and relieve herself so that she wouldn't fall for such boys sexually. Over the next few years, as Malti became more at ease with her, she finally learned a lot about being a woman and how to best use her charm. She also taught her the art of kissing by practically showing her how to do it.

The boy was well-equipped and skilled at making love to women. But, because he also frequented prostitutes, he was the wrong choice for Malti and even that woman. Malti avoided him ever since, but she knew that under the right circumstances, she would have given him her virginity.

The neighbourhood aunt informed Malti that such boys/men were known as alpha males and would not hesitate to court married women and impregnate them under the right conditions. They are known to give the best pleasure to women because they most likely had the right tool for pleasure and, of course, the right character to score with other men's wives. She had tried other men before him, but they all fell short of her expectations in terms of both size and character. They were too afraid of being caught and lacked the courage to inseminate a woman, even when she explicitly requested it. The prime candidates were only such alpha males who didn't care what the rest of the world thought of them.

She became Malti's confidante, and over the years, Malti always sought her advice whenever she was perplexed. Roopa was 15 years her senior, and she found an understanding partner in her. They both confided in each other about their dirty secrets because they felt safe learning from each other's experiences without fear of being exposed.

Her father-in-law's brother was the one who finally got her pregnant. Malti and she were both saved from the boy's influence because he was arrested in a drug case. To get pregnant, Roopa had sex with about a half-dozen men. Of course, her partners' nervousness and the timing made it difficult for her to become pregnant. Her father-in-law's younger brother finally recognised a willing woman in her and courted her. It just happened by chance during one of his visits to their home, and she became pregnant soon after.

She reasoned that because she had experimented with so many men, her demeanour had changed sufficiently for such alpha males to detect a potential mate in her. Despite being 55 at the time, he was a gifted man who delighted her like no other man had ever done. She was expecting her third child at the time of our marriage.

Malti had her first encounter by chance at her cousin's wedding. It was with her Uncle, as she had previously informed me. He was her father's eldest sister's second husband. He married her about a decade ago, shortly after the birth of her youngest son, who was about 5-6 years Malti's junior. He was in the army, so Malti hadn't seen him much because he was constantly moving from one posting to another. He was now retired and running some sort of business. It was at the wedding of their eldest daughter, who was 26 at the time.

He was a Maratha, not a Brahmin, which caused some friction in Malti's family, but because he took responsibility for the three children, Malti's family accepted him. For several years, there were rumours that he had been sleeping with Malti's aunt, and there were even suspicions that he had fathered their son because he had a slightly darker skin tone.

He was known for being a loud and boisterous man with a lot of energy and charm. He never minced his words, openly admitting his love for his wife and his attraction to Kokanastha (Brahmin's from the Konkan coast of Maharashtra) women. People looked up to him as a high-ranking official in the army, so they tolerated some of his antiques.

That fateful night, while they were all travelling to their hometown for the wedding, his youngest son became ill and began vomiting. The bus ride had taken its toll on him; he was sitting in the second-to-last seat with his father, i.e. uncle. The last seat was completely occupied by luggage, as was the seat next to them. Traveling to Konkan was done by road back then because trains took much longer and were unpredictable.

Malti offered to swap seats with him, and despite her aunt's objections, she moved to the back of the bus. She had no idea what was about to happen to her. This was only a year before our wedding. She met Kishore bhai, and some of her early fantasies about him began to materialise. Based on her background, she saw some parallels between her uncle and neighbor's father-in-law.

She was sexually excited in that situation, and after some preliminary chit-chat with her, she dozed off to sleep. She was purposefully careless, allowing the scarf to fall down, exposing her ample bust to him. The dim light from above illuminated her seat and provided him with a good view. Malti was relieved to see that he was attracted to her bust as he shamelessly stared at it.

Nothing happened for an hour, and she eventually fell asleep. She became sexually excited and began obsessing about having sex with someone, possibly Gaur. Things were going well, and she began to wonder if it was all a dream or if it was real. She gradually realised that her Uncle was taking advantage of her as she struggled to stay in the dream. He was massaging her breasts while nuzzling into her neck. She began moaning as she enjoyed the pleasurable sensations, which encouraged him to begin sucking on her neck and squeezing her breasts.

She finally awoke to find that it was completely dark inside the bus, save for the lights from oncoming traffic. She detected the strong odour of his oil in his hair. His body's intense, pungent odour permeated her nostrils, and his stale breath made its presence known as he openly began kissing her neck. It smelled like the betel leaf he was used to eating most of the time.

"Uncle," she said as she pushed him away.

"What are you doing?" she asked quietly.

"I'm in love with you, Malti."

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met," he complimented her.

"Stop it, Uncle," she said as she pushed him away and tidied up.

She stood up to get a bottle of water from above, and for a split second he thought she was about to leave the seat, so he grabbed her by the waist and yanked her down.

"Let me get some water, Uncle," she screamed, and that's when he confidently caressed her butt and squeezed it. When Malti did not respond, he drew her into his lap, drew her face down, and kissed her.

He had no fear of being caught as he thrust his tongue into her mouth. She released herself and sat back in her chair after some kissing. She drank some water and offered it to him. She had picked up a small blanket to cover herself in addition to the water bottle.

For a few moments, there was pensive silence, but then he turned towards her and placed his hand on her tummy. She pushed it away, but he persisted, so she let his hand rest on her shoulder. That was enough to persuade him, and he confidently pushed his hand inside her shawl and stroked her breasts. She tried in vain to push him away before finally allowing him to play with her breasts.

After that, he drew her closer to him and nuzzled her neck again, and this time she complained, "Uncle, you stink."

"Slut," he said firmly, "this is how a real man smells." You should get used to it because a true man can smell a slut from a mile away."

Malti froze, realising that, like that boy, he had detected a real slut hidden behind the veneer of plain clothes and her normal demeanour.

"Are you paying attention, Malti?" he inquired, lifting her head.

"Many women are sluts, but few admit it. Few women are as lovely as you. Get used to it; you will be courted by a lot of men in your lifetime, and believe me, you will not refuse them."

He leaned in and began kissing her. Malti wasn't sure, but after about a minute, she began responding to his kisses. His breath was stale, and his body odour was strong, but it didn't bother her any longer. As he had explained, it was a sign of a true man for her from then on. He kissed her for about ten minutes, telling her how much he adored her.

Throughout, he massaged and squeezed her breasts continually. She was willing to have a tryst with him and lose her virginity. She finally realized she was a submissive woman in need of strong men who were willing to take control of her regardless of the circumstances. She kissed him passionately despite knowing that his oral hygiene was questionable because that's how he expected her to act.

"Are you enjoying it?" he inquired after 10 minutes. She nodded nervously.

"OK, I'll be your mentor," he said.

"Husbands and real men are not the same. Do you see what I mean?"

"Come here," he said, motioning for her to kneel in front of him, "and take it in your mouth."

She did as he asked and knelt in front of him, albeit reluctantly. He'd already unzipped his pants and fleshed out his semi-erect cock. The foul odour of penis did not escape her notice, but she ignored it and took it into her mouth as he had instructed. He was extremely talented, and despite the fact that Malti had been at it for over ten minutes, he showed no signs of ejaculating. Her jaws were hurting, but she kept pleasing him. She realised after the preliminaries that he was pressing her head to take more and more of his penis in her mouth.

She was shocked and gasped for air the first time it went down her throat. He allowed her to retreat temporarily but encouraged her to try again, and she did. After a few failed attempts, she realised what he desired and began doing it voluntarily, taking her time. Every time he entered her throat, they both concentrated on keeping it in for longer and longer periods of time.

He finally flooded her mouth at the 25-minute mark. She sucked as much as she could and wiped the rest away with her scarf. They didn't say much, and he had to leave at the next stop because someone from another bus was calling for him.

Malti's aunt took advantage of the opportunity to join her in the back seat. She apologised profusely for his actions. She appears to have been fully aware of his erratic tendencies. He even wanted to mount his own daughters; they were not fathered by him, so he saw no problem with it. In a way, Malti was relieved that she had agreed to let him take her; she was a welcome distraction for him.

During the wedding festivities, he mostly avoided her, but on the second night, he led her to the storage room and began making out with her. Malti gave him a similar blowjob, but this time he actually fucked her mouth, actively attempting to push his penis into her throat. Malti struggled but gave him as much pleasure as she could.

This went on for a few more days, and he never forced her to have intercourse. She later discovered that her aunt had expressly forbidden him from having sexual intercourse with Malti until she married. He had another private moment with her on the bus on the last day, during the journey back, when he had a more open conversation with her. There was nothing else that could be done in broad daylight except talk.

"Your Aunt and I have been lovers for a long time, Malti," he explained.

"We began our affair shortly after the birth of our eldest daughter."

"I've slept with a lot of women over the years, and your aunt is well aware of them. She was fine with it because we were lovers, and she didn't complain about it even after we married."

"You are a special woman; do not succumb to the drudgery of marriage. If you do, make sure to marry someone who can put up with your infidelity."

"Wasting your youth and beauty on one person, especially someone who is unlikely to be gifted, would be a colossal waste."

Those words echoed in her mind as she returned home and spoke with her neighbour aunt, Roopa, who had become her confidante and mentor. Roopa congratulated Malti on her first experience and repeated what Uncle had said. Her own marriage would have been drab if her father-in-law hadn't been mounting her on a regular basis. Roopa was aware of my existence and Malti's feelings for me at the time. She viewed love and sex as two different things and made it abundantly clear to Malti at every opportunity.

The story moved on to another man, Ranjan, a close friend of mine who was pursuing her at the time. We had gone to see a movie with Ranjan and his girlfriend about a month before her cousin's wedding. Ranjan's intentions had become clear to Malti with each passing day, but she had continued to reject his advances. She didn't make a big deal about it because he was a good friend of mine. She also thought it was a passing fad because he did have a steady girlfriend, Swapna, who was also a close friend of hers.

Malti had spoken with Roopa about it several times, but she was still unsure how to handle the situation. She was madly in love with me and didn't care for him, but he wanted to have sex with her rather than marry her. This piqued her sexual interest even more. Roopa advised her to avoid him because young men were not worthy of anyone's trust. They were quick to brag about such things in front of their friends, and they were quick to reveal such secrets that later would erupt into a scandal.

Ranjan was 8 years my senior, so he was essentially 12 years Malti's senior. At the time, she was 20 years old. I arrived late for the movie and fumbled for my seat in the dark, only to find Swapna, Ranjan, and Malti seated in that order. I sat down next to Malti and apologised to them. The theatre was sparsely populated because it was a Matinee showing of a popular film. Malti offered me the shawl she was wearing to keep warm in the air-conditioned theatre. She hugged me tenderly as we watched our movie.

A lot was going on that I wasn't aware of at the time. Under the shawl, Ranjan was fondling my girlfriend. She'd purposefully covered herself with the shawl because he was openly fondling her breast. To avoid making a scene, she draped herself in the shawl, allowing him to fondle her breasts under the cover of the shawl.

She was restless in the theatre, and I didn't understand much of what she was saying. She was holding my hand while that jerk of a friend of mine squeezed her breasts. It was as if she were her girlfriend rather than mine. She initially leaned towards me to avoid him, but this did not deter him. She sat back in her chair, knowing he wouldn't give up, and let him play with them.

She realised she was a slut, exactly as her Uncle had described, and Ranjan had sniffed her out. She didn't have a choice but to let the real man there take advantage of her. He led her hand to his crotch several times, but she resisted and didn't let him push her luck. This continued until the intermission, when Malti went to the restroom. She wanted to take advantage of the opportunity and switch seats, but Swapna was smart enough to call her out when she returned. I sat like a moron and didn't take her seat; Ranjan wisely took her seat, and she was now sandwiched between Swapna and Ranjan.

Malti sagged nervously into his seat. Swapna gave us a shawl and used her own to cover Malti and herself. We talked for a few minutes before returning our attention to the movie. Meanwhile, Swapna had already begun to encourage her.

"That was fantastic, Malti," she told her quietly.

"You're doing well in your role; it's Sanjay's wife's fate to spread her legs for Ranjan."

"Now stroke him obediently," she instructed.

Malti stroked him until he ejaculated in the second half of the film.

Swapna was overjoyed after the movie, and she steered both of us away from Malti. Of course, she was trying to console her and thank her for what she had done. Swapna was an ordinary woman, a few years Ranjan's junior. Ranjan was much darker than even Kishore bhai, so getting a taste of Malti's charms was nothing short of a dream come true for him.

Malti returned to her mentor but was unable to speak with her due to some issue and only had the opportunity to speak with her after returning from her cousin's wedding. Hearing her two episodes back to back, Roopa was convinced that Malti was every bit the slut her Uncle had described. We had planned to celebrate Ranjan's birthday after her return, and he had requested a special gift from Malti.

Malti avoided us for nearly a month, and in the meantime, spending time with Roopa helped her finally figure out what she wanted out of life. The more she spoke, the more it became clear that marrying me entirely implied that she would be available to such alpha males, who pursued her. I was completely oblivious to what was going on right in front of my eyes.

Roopa explained that based on the description, she thought Ranjan was an alpha male because his girlfriend encouraged him to pursue another woman. Swapna knew she couldn't control him, so she decided to assist him in any way she could. It allowed her to stay close to and marry such a man. She felt obligated to support him in his efforts to woo Malti because she wasn't as attractive as Malti.

Roopa assisted her in making sense of her thoughts and what was going on in her life. Roopa never purposefully led her astray and never made her decisions for her. Malti hadn't told Roopa about Kishore bhai yet; she was waiting for the right time.

We decided to have Ranjan's birthday party at the beach. Ranjan had been a close friend of mine for over a decade, and he had always been concerned and supportive of me. He was known as a womaniser, and he had several girlfriends over the years. However, I didn't think he'd have such nefarious thoughts about Malti. Malti, on the other hand, had never told me anything about him until now.

That evening, we spent a long time playing on the beach and eating a lot of roadside food. Swapna suggested that we go for a walk on the beach before returning. Malti was nervous because it was getting dark, but Swapna didn't give us a chance to object. Swapna had been pressuring her the entire evening to kiss him on the beach after sunset.

As they walked down the beach, she said to her, "Sanjay is a shy and meek young man. He would always require the assistance of a strong man like Ranjan. What's the harm in rewarding his allies?"

"Come on Swapna," she retorted, "Ranjan has more than his fair share already. I haven't even been intimate with Sanjay yet."

"That's precisely the point Malti," she said excitedly, "Sanjay is expecting Ranjan to do the honors."

"Trust me," she assured her, "you are only helping Sanjay in a way; after all Ranjan is his business partner."

"Aren't you worried that he is falling for another woman?" asked Malti.

"That's just my fate Malti," she quipped in her usual calm voice, "I would have loved to be in your position."

"But you know Malti," she continued, "it's not just about your pale complexion, beautiful features or your ripe young body. I think it's your willingness to accept real men who don't fit the conventional definition of eligible men but have what it takes to pleasure a woman. Even more importantly your willingness to accept sexual advances from other men right in front of your fiance is what makes you even more appealing."

"Ranjan had this fantasy of kissing a pretty woman like you on a beach," she said.

"Please don't disappoint him," she said as she ushered her towards me.

Malti and I walked up to the beach and talked about our future plans. When I noticed them lagging behind, I turned to face her, took her in my arms, and hugged her tightly. Malti felt safe in my arms, and for the first time, I was relieved that this woman is madly in love with me and will marry me soon. She raised her head to face me and softly said, "I love you. I want to be with you for the rest of my life."

"Me too," I said, hugging her and standing in silence.

After about five minutes, Malti raised her head and asked, "Do you really love me?"

"Beyond your wildest imagination," I said quietly.

"Why don't you kiss me?" she suggested. I leaned in and placed my lips just below her lips on her cheek. I didn't want to take advantage of her in any way. At the time, I wasn't sure if I could marry her or even keep her happy.

"You won't ever leave me, right?" Malti inquired.

"Never," I said, "but promise me you'll take care of my mother as well."

Malti hugged me and smiled.

That was the most romantic moment in our lives up to that point. We stood there for ten minutes like that. At that moment, Malti fell madly in love with me. She knew I was a kind and considerate person who would look after her no matter what. She was certain that finding a more considerate man as a husband would have been difficult.

I had no intention of doing anything different, but Ranjan had warned me not to go overboard and push the boundaries that evening. He warned me that Malti might perceive me as desperate, which would be a bad start to our relationship. I was a traditionalist who believed that I should begin slowly and after marriage. Furthermore, I had cuckold tendencies at the time, and delaying it was a strategy to get her to fall for Kishore bhai sooner.

They both caught up to us, and we continued walking down the beach. Swapna led Malti in front of us, and we followed a few steps behind.

"Did he make a move?" she asked Malti. Malti shook her head in response. Of course, neither of us had any intention of rushing into such things. However, much later I did learn that Malti wanted to give me a chance to absolve myself and I clearly blew it. Malti could have kissed me that evening to make up for it but in her mind it was my responsibility to push the boundaries; at the back of her mind, she didn't want to kiss Ranjan with my spit in her mouth.

"He is saving you for Ranjan," she said, "now give him a long, deep, french kiss. Show him that the only reason you are marrying Sanjay is to mate with him."

Malti remained silent and pushed her away angrily. I had the impression that they were both joking. Swapna finally said, after a few more minutes of walking, "Look, Malti, you're a slut, and you know it. Your fate is to be taken by real men."

She turned around and dashed towards us.

"Hey, Sanjay," she said, "you promised me an ice cream treat. Did you forget it?"

Swapna said to me as I looked at Malti as she sauntered towards us, only a few feet away, "Don't be concerned about her. She enjoys chocobar. Come on, let's get started with our Cassata ice cream. They are free to join us."

Swapna had won a bet, and I had promised to treat her to ice cream. She wouldn't accept just one, so we decided to make a dash for it in order to make time. I had no idea what "chocobar" meant at the time, or that I was leaving Malti alone with Ranjan in such a desolate location. It all happened so quickly that it didn't sink in at the time.

Ranjan walked up to her and confidently yanked her into his arms. He didn't waste any time and pressed his lips against hers. Malti accepted her fate by parting her lips. He drew her in tightly, and she realised what a manly touch was.

"Malti," he said between kisses, "didn't realise when you transformed from a flower bud to a flower."

He squeezed her breast and kissed her again. Malti kissed him passionately, conveying her own hunger to him. He offered his tongue to her, and she sucked on it like a lollipop. The sunset happened a little while ago, so it was quite dark and the beach was deserted. Malti already knew that he was hung like a horse and deserved to mate with her; she had already equated him to Gaur in her mind at that time. Malti had started sensing and more importantly believing that I would tolerate her infidelity, if not encourage it. The kiss was long and intense; Malti knew that he longed for this moment intensely, so she indulged him for well over 5 minutes.

"Come, I'll give you a taste of my chocobar," he said, after breaking the kiss, as he led her to the tree's shaded area, which was dark and provided more privacy.

They kissed again under the tree for a few minutes before she knelt in front of him, pulled out his penis, and began sucking on it. Ranjan was in a state of ecstasy. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine scoring with her on a date where her boyfriend couldn't go beyond a small peck on the cheeks.

Malti had mastered the art of sucking on chocobar, and she delighted him with her tongue. He had the urge to hump her face, just like her uncle, and after noticing that Malti didn't mind, he gradually began fucking her face. He was about the same size as Uncle, so his tip began to hit the back of her throat after some effort. When Malti didn't revolt, Ranjan knew he'd hit the jackpot. It breached the narrow corridor of her throat and entered her throat with a few more thrusts.

Ranjan had forgotten he was face fucking my girlfriend for the first time. He began seriously humping, and Malti gave him as much as she could, but it was becoming difficult for her because she had dinner only a half-hour earlier. Ranjan kept humping her mouth, ignoring Malti's cries, and Malti kept tolerating it and pushing back as hard as she could. He'd give her a moment to catch her breath before pushing it all back in.

Malti was in pain; luckily for her, Ranjan couldn't take it any longer and erupted in her mouth. He quickly drew it out and came all over her face. Malti was taken aback, but he held her by her hair and continued cumming on her face. Malti vomited soon after. Ranjan offered her bottled water, which she used to wash her face before fleeing the scene. She was sick, and she threw up again as she approached us at the ice cream stand. I suspected that she had food poisoning, so we got her more water to refresh her and drove her home.

Malti finally confided in Roopa and sought her advice over the next few weeks.

"You've decided to cuckold your husband before you even marry him," Roopa said after hearing her.

"I know; I love him, and that's what bothers me," Malti pleaded.

"Love has nothing to do with Malti," she stated emphatically.

"Maybe he is a cuckold."

It was easier said than done, but such occurrences were unusual, and the fact that they occurred in my presence bolstered Roopa's claim.

"However, you should not be too daring before marriage. Wait until you've married Sanjay," She stated.

"Kishore bhai is a better choice; elderly men, if capable, are the best choice," she stressed.

Malti and I discussed the marriage proposal at the time. She had made up her mind around that time, and we had agreed to marry within a year. I told my mother right away, and while she was supportive, she warned me not to fall for Malti because she came from a wealthy family and belonged to the Brahmin caste. Such intercaste marriages were frowned upon and discouraged. This occurred about 9 months before our wedding.

Malti was present at the time we discussed it. She made it clear that her parents would not be supportive of the marriage, so it would have to take place without their explicit permission. My mother was supportive, but she felt it was best to let Malti think about it thoroughly because the life she was embracing would be difficult.

We didn't tell Ranjan about our decision, so he showed up unannounced. There was a lot of uncertainty, so we decided to keep it a secret until that day arrived. He insisted that since the weather was nice, we should go outside and get some fresh air before heading out. Malti insisted on leaving right away and refused to join us.

Swapna also joined us there. We drank some tea and decided to call it a night. I didn't say anything because Swapna offered to drop her back off. They all left that evening, but in reality, Ranjan dragged Malti into one of our restrooms while Swapna stood outside keeping an eye on things.

"You're turning me into a slut," she pleaded as he began kissing her inside the dingy toilet.

"You're already a slut, Malti," he replied, "and I'm assisting you in realising it."

The same thing happened inside the toilet the next day. This time, Malti let him completely fuck her face and tolerated him repeatedly breaching her throat. Ranjan was completely smitten by her now. Malti was more than just a lovely lady. She was a submissive slut with an incredible libido and a strong desire to please such men.

Ranjan continued to take advantage of Malti in the months leading up to our wedding, until he was killed in an accident. Malti considered it almost her duty to please him whenever he desired.

She blew him several times in our toilet, recalling at least a dozen such incidents. Kissing and fondling were a regular occurrence for her, especially on our dark staircase. When Malti came to visit, Rajan would always show up at our house.

My mother finally spoke to Malti about six months before our wedding and explained our predicament.

"You are aware of our financial situation, Malti," she began.

"Sanjay is a hardworking and nice man, but he cannot provide you with the comforts you are accustomed to."

"Don't be concerned, Mother," Malti reassured her.

"I adore him. Even though his means are limited, he is capable of keeping me happy."

My mother made some tea for her. Turning back to her, she said, "Ever since his father passed away, Kishore bhai has sheltered us. Sanjay's college fees, day to day expenses, etc were borne by him."

"Yes," she confirmed, "Sanjay told me."

"Not many people in the chawl like him," she went on, "but he's been nice to us."

"Why?"

"He's a womanizer," my mother said.

"Oh!"

"We didn't have a choice," she went on to say.

"You are a stunning woman, far more beautiful than anyone else here. It's no surprise he's been eyeing you for a year."

"I get it, mother," she said.

"Malti," my mother stated emphatically, "He is a lecher, a known womanizer, and we owe him a great debt."

"Don't you see a problem?"

"Forget about Sanjay," she said, "you are such a beautiful girl from a well-to-do family. Why did you choose this drudgery?"

Malti did not argue and decided to bring up the subject again later. She understood what my mother was saying; she just didn't expect such a direct response from her. She had no doubts because she had heard my mother's moans. My mother warned Malti again as her visits continued, but it appeared that Malti had already made up her mind. Malti insisted that she only wanted to marry me and that nothing could persuade her otherwise.

Ranjan died in an accident about three months before our wedding. My mother was overjoyed because she had always thought he was a bad influence on me. When my mother noticed that Malti was not backing down, she took her to see a doctor under false pretenses. Malti had no idea what was going on, but she went with the flow. She had to answer a slew of questions and put herself through a battery of tests. After about an hour, they both emerged with the doctor's test results and a prescription.

Malti fretted nervously as my mother made tea for her once more after her return. Something ominous was about to happen now that she knew her style.

"Did you understand what I said about Kishore bhai?" she inquired. Malti looked nervously at the door.

"Close the door," my mother instructed. Malti complied and went into the kitchen to stand by her.

Malti remained silent, but when prodded, she nodded.

"Say it so there's no doubt in our minds."

"Kishore bhai may take advantage of me," Malti finally said, "and instead of revolting, I should comply."

My mother did not react, but instead handed her a cup of tea and led her to the front of our room.

"Malti, this is a delicate subject that should be kept between us. We can only speak about it on purpose and at specific times and occasions."

"Are you following me?"

Malti gave a nod.

"A little history would be helpful," my mother began.

"Kishore bhai has been taking care of us for the past two decades. Sanjay's father was an alcoholic and an irresponsible man. My affair with Kishore bhai began less than a month after I moved here. I felt used and abused at times because he had sex with me on a regular basis, even while my drunk husband slept right next to us."

"He was smitten by my beauty and clearly intended to impregnate me. He fathered Sanjay's siblings, who died when they were young. Unfortunately, even the last pregnancy ended prematurely."

"If we had moved a few months earlier, Sanjay could very well have been his son."

"I hated him for years, thinking he took advantage of me," she continued, "he never forced me to do anything. I could have ignored him if I wasn't sexually unhappy in my marriage."

Malti attempted to comfort her. My mother was a strong woman who had been through a lot in her life. It would have been unthinkable for a mother-in-law to have such a conversation if this had not been the case. Living in abject poverty made it easy for us to distinguish between our wants and needs. As in Maslow's hierarchy, our basic needs come before our emotional needs. She recognized that sex was a basic, physical need, even if it came after other basic needs.

"Don't worry, mother," Malti assured her, "it will get better."

"Our benefactors have been Kishore bhai and a distant uncle of Sanjay," she continued, "and I have done everything in my power to repay them in some way."

"Sanjay is a nice young man. Very loving, calm, and cultured, and will undoubtedly make a good husband."

"But he is also his father's son, and he can be reclusive, timid, and docile at times."

"He had other girlfriends, but they weren't as attractive as you."

Malti was taking it all in. She didn't know much about my background, and I didn't know much about hers.

"He is oblivious to what is right in front of him. Both Ranjan and Kishore bhai tried to take advantage of his girlfriends in some way, and both of them left him."

"It's unclear whether he didn't know or purposefully turned a blind eye to their actions. Those girls, on the other hand, were very ordinary women."

"You, on the other hand, can pass for an actress. I'd be surprised if Ranjan didn't try his luck with you."

Malti nodded, confirming that her suspicions were correct.

"Marrying Sanjay means you have to accept this as your fate," she explained.

"Sanjay will be an excellent life partner, but he will not protect you from such bullies. Do you see what I mean?"

"Yes, mother," she said confidently. Despite her nervousness, she appreciated that her future mother-in-law didn't keep anything from her.

"When forming such alliances, most families look for gold and money," she explained, "but we only need you and your complete support for our family."

"Are you sure of this?" she asked as she hugged Malti.

"Yes mother. I appreciate it, "She responded confidently.

My mother finally moved on to the next stage of the plan as they settled.

"When I was at a crossroads, I was always guilty of betraying my husband and family. It gnawed at me and nibbled away at the warmth and pleasure I got from those secret affairs," she said.

"I don't want that to happen to you," she stated firmly.

Malti kept twiddling her thumbs as my mother pushed the subject forward, one step at a time. Malti had implicitly agreed to support her proposal by agreeing to her principle.

"Here are your reports," she said as she handed them to him.

"You're ready to start a family. Your doctor has advised you to take some health supplements."

"But, mother?" Malti pleaded.

"These are energy pills for Kishore bhai," she explained, "you can start with the first one, and I will give him the rest on a daily basis."

"And these are for you; you may not need them, but you should have them just in case."

Malti didn't know what to say to her, so she just froze, and after a few minutes, my mother asked, "Why are you hesitating?"

"I haven't given it enough thought yet, mother," she mumbled.

"Check again," she said, countering her.

"Those wet juices are a clear indication that you are ready," she added, pointing to the wetness around her Malti's crotch. Malti straightened her dress to hide the wet patch around her crotch.

"Don't feel embarrassed," my mother consoled her.

"With him you would need every bit of that lubrication."

My mother took her hands and pointed to her fingers by holding three of them together and said, "This is perhaps how big Sanjay is."

"And this is how thick Kishore bhai's penis is," she said holding her wrist.

"His would reach your navel and Sanjay's won't even reach half that."

Malti was trembling. She could never have imagined my mother talking in such vulgar language. Malti was shaken up and left soon after that. My mother was certain that either Malti would never return or she would agree to her proposal.

Later that week, Malti reached out to her mentor, Roopa, to try to understand her predicament.

"Interesting! Your mother-in-law wants you to mate with alpha males," She said as she absorbed Malti's story. Malti, of course, was wise enough not to reveal every last detail to her.

"She is astute. She recommends this because she realizes how attractive you are and how easy a target you would be," said Roopa.

"You should fully enjoy the pleasures that this body was designed to provide."

"My main concern, however, is your financial stability. You are foregoing all of your comforts in order to marry someone who may not even sexually satisfy you."

"I love him, Roopa," she muttered.

"Love doesn't fill your stomach. Consider it carefully," she cautioned.

"That's clear to me, Roopa," Malti argued, "I have to marry him; I don't have any doubts about it."

"Wouldn't my mother-in-law's demands put my marriage in jeopardy?"

Roopa, who had been living an adventurous lifestyle for over a decade, had a good understanding of the subject. She had known Malti for a few years and had a good sense of what was going through her mind and what Malti liked and disliked.

"Could you please elaborate on how things evolved once more? From the beginning?" she inquired.

"Ranjan had been interested in me since I became Sanjay's girlfriend, but he became serious about pursuing me a month before that theatre episode. He used to be so envious of Sanjay for having such a lovely girlfriend. Even in front of his girlfriend Swapna, he once suggested that I accompany him on a day of shopping for clothes so that he could feel proud to have me as a girlfriend for a day."

"It was a joke, but later on Sanjay asked if I would accompany him on a shopping trip because Swapna couldn't make it."

"Ranjan mistook Sanjay's approval for me to be his girlfriend and insisted on me clinging to his arm while we went shopping. I did it to pamper him, and that was the start of his demands."

"When we went out to dinner, he touched me for the first time. Swapna was unable to attend. I was sitting next to Sanjay at first, but when he went to the restroom, Ranjan took his seat next to me. He made up an excuse about me showing him something, and Sanjay sat opposite us without saying anything."

"I was taken aback." A few minutes later, he asked, "Didn't I tell you? He'd like you to be my girlfriend."

It was a fancy restaurant, so it was dimly lit. We were in one corner, sitting on a large table, with enough space between them and me. They were sitting on a small sofa, and I was sitting across from them on a wooden chair. The sofa was a little low, which obscured their torsos to a large extent. I didn't notice anything at the time, but as previously stated, I had cuckold tendencies and, while I didn't fully accept them, I did want Malti to feel comfortable with other men. I also didn't want to switch seats with him and appear insecure.

"Sanjay placed his left hand calmly on my thigh as he continued to amuse both of us with his jokes. I tried several times to remove his hand, but he was persistent, and it eventually stayed there for a good 15 minutes with him massaging and pressing my thigh."

"When the food arrived, he shifted gears and began pushing his hand against my crotch. It would be obvious if I slid away or scooted back if his hand was in my lap. After a brief struggle, I shifted towards him, scooting forward ever so slightly but effectively providing him with better access. It wasn't my intention to encourage him, but I did."

"Ranjan boldly began massaging my crotch. Sanjay was completely unaware of what was going on."

"I excused myself after dinner and sat with Sanjay when I returned."

"So your boyfriend pretended not to notice anything," Roopa remarked.

"Tell me more," she pleaded with Malti.

"In the theatre," Malti continued, "when I sat between Swapna and him, he quickly pushed his hand into my khameez from behind and began probing my anus. I reluctantly lifted my butt to make room for his hand; I had no other choice."

"After about a half-hour, his two fingers were lodged deep inside my anus."

"You didn't tell me that the last time," Roopa grumbled.

"I was embarrassed."

"Swapna soon discovered it and informed me that it was time for me to suck his dick. She dubbed it a chocobar because of its resemblance to dark chocolate."

"At our next meeting, she told everyone about my obsession with chocolate and how she was persuading me to try our natural, organic kulfi instead," Malti continued.

"Swapna made a big deal about how we had to taste a Kulfi and convince Malti that it was better than a chocobar after the episode in the theater."

I had no idea what that was about, and I noticed Malti was nervous, but I dismissed it as an inside joke between Swapna and Malti. We were much younger than Swapna and Ranjan, so we treated them as if they were our elder brother and sister-in-law. Swapna was in her late twenties and engaged to Ranjan at the time. Their wedding was only a few months away, so none of the events Malti described occurred to me because Swapna was with us most of the time and I didn't believe such far-fetched things could ever happen.

"As Swapna mumbled into my ear, vividly describing his penis, I felt embarrassed as I sucked on that Kulfi. It's thick, long, and completely black, and it smells strongly of urine and semen," Malti said.

"While Swapna was discussing chocobar," she continued, "Ranjan was discussing how much he enjoyed his recent visit to Aarey Milk Colony."

"He was referring to my breasts," she clarified, "which he had been mauling and milking for 2 hours in the movie theater."

"We decided to stop by Sanjay's place after the movie to meet his mother and have a cup of tea before calling it a night."

"Sanjay's chawl has two entrances: one used by the majority of people in the building and one used sparingly but closer to Sanjay's flat. The seldom used staircase was dark and poorly lit. It was surrounded by shops on the ground floor, but there was a lot of darkness in the inside patio. As a result, the staircase was also dark and unlit. The shops near that staircase had expanded to the first floor as well, so it was frequently deserted."

"Swapna expertly led Sanjay up the stairs while we trailed behind them. Ranjan grabbed me from behind, taking advantage of the situation, and I yelped. Sanjay called me. Ranjan was right behind me, hugging my body tightly. To avoid being caught, I pretended that my slipper had fallen and asked them to continue."

"Halfway up the stairs, he began mauling my breasts and kissing my neck again. I was excited and didn't immediately push him away, but when he thought I was under my spell, I pushed him away and ran upstairs."

"Can you tell me what happened the next time?" asked Roopa.

"Swapna was determined to give me a taste of his chocobar. She even insisted on eating Kulfi every time we met, and she insisted on me taking it all in as deeply as I could."

"On Ranjan's birthday, I meticulously prepared myself by bathing and selecting my best clothes before we met. Sanjay thought I was dressed nicely for him, but I was actually dressed up for Ranjan. He had insisted that I give him a birthday gift because I was his girlfriend in reality, not Sanjay's."

"I was nervous and coy as usual on the beach when I was with Sanjay. I didn't want him to think of me as a slut, so I didn't make any attempt. But I wanted Swapna to win so Ranjan, who had been so persistent, could score with me."

"What distinguishes him? Why do you like him?" inquired a perplexed Roopa.

"I never liked him," Malti shot back, "but I was sexually attracted to him."

"Ranjan was 32 years old, so he was a man rather than a boy. He was well-built, if a little overweight, and stood nearly 6 feet tall. He had dark skin and belonged to a lower caste. What I liked best about him was his sense of humour and, perhaps, his cocky demeanor."

"And how about Swapna?"

"She is thirty years old. She is an attractive woman with lovely eyes and lips. She's dark, perhaps a shade or two darker than Sanjay. She is a little taller, possibly 5' 7". She has a good figure but a nearly flat chest. Her face is still covered in boils and pimples and is not clear."

"Please keep going," Roopa pleaded.

"Sanjay did not let me down; he was a gentleman. His maturity and calmness convinced me that he was the best life partner for me. I began to believe both Swapna and Ranjan in the back of my mind. Perhaps Sanjay did want me to be open to other men's attention."

"Sanjay was only a few feet away as Swapna and Sanjay dashed for it. Ranjan took a confident step forward and kissed me as he drew me into his embrace. They were only 15 feet away, but it didn't matter to either of us. It was a strong taboo feeling. Ranjan was a fantastic kisser and kept on kissing me. We kissed for nearly five minutes. We wouldn't have stopped if he didn't want to give me a taste of his chocobar."

"We found a dark spot in the shade and I promptly knelt forward and nuzzled into his crotch. I was prepared, contrary to what I said the last time. I had avoided eating much food under the guise of being ill. In reality, I just wanted to make sure Ranjan liked his birthday present. He wielded a massive tool that was as stiff as a rod. He deliberately came on my face after fucking my mouth for ten minutes. He unloaded spurt after spurt on my face, some inside my nose, some in my eyes, and he even wiped his dick in my hair after he was done."

"As he refused to give me the bottle of water, I wiped it all down with my kerchief. We returned, and when I saw Sanjay and Swapna, I pretended to vomit. They provided me with a bottle, which I used to wash my face. As we walked back to our houses, Sanjay held my hand and supported me. I kissed Sanjay on the lips just before he dropped me."

"Hmm... Malti, you're finally telling the truth. It's a good thing you're no longer hiding it. It would assist us in determining the best course of action for you, "Roopa stated.

"I was Ranjan's girlfriend as of that evening. Swapna encouraged me, saying that I could give him my virginity on my wedding night. Every time we went to Sanjay's, it became an ordeal for Swapna and him to go upstairs ahead of us, while Ranjan and I kissed passionately in the darkness. It happened both ways - on the way to his place and on the way out."

"When Swapna wasn't around, he'd go upstairs by himself, leaving me in Ranjan's company."

"Unfortunately, he died," Roopa said.

"Kishore bhai and he could have been excellent sexual partners for you. They could have kept you pregnant year after year, ensuring your youth was not squandered."

Roopa finally advised her after hearing her detailed story.

"Sanjay is a good choice if you want to live a sexually promiscuous life. He encouraged you with Ranjan and may do so with Kishore bhai, but he hasn't done it with others, right?"

Malti gave a nod.

"It appears that even his mother understands him and has a thoughtful proposal for you."

"If all you care about are people who can make you happy in bed, marrying Sanjay will ensure that. He's a cuckold, and I'm sure he'd have Ranjan take you on your wedding night."

"But I haven't even met the other man my mother-in-law was referring to. He's much older, as old as your father-in-law," Malti explained.

"Listen, age is just a number," she said, explaining that "the first time he took me, he was 55 years old, and now he is 61. I'm 36 years old, but he made sure I was pregnant during this visit."

"Do you really think my husband isn't aware?"

"He ignores it, but approaches me for sex after I've been with my father-in-law. He enjoys fucking my sloshy, distended pussy and, you know what, he doesn't mind licking his stuff out sometimes."

"What?"

"Do you know why Ranjan came on your face and left his semen in your hair?"

"He wanted Sanjay to smell his semen. And Sanjay must have," she said.

"Your mother-in-law wants her lovely daughter-in-law to mate with real men so that her grandchildren are not only beautiful but also strong and healthy."

"My only concern is whether Sanjay can provide you with a comfortable life," Roopa explained.

"It's difficult to say," Malti admitted, "but I definitely think he understands me much better and will do his best to look after me."

"So, with Ranjan, there was only one blowjob and a lot of kissing? Poor soul, he couldn't even fully enjoy your charms."

"Oh no," a humiliated Malti exclaimed. Roopa's eyes widened when she learned that Malti had kept something from her.

"You are an incorrigible Malti," she slapped her buttocks.

"I gave him about two dozen blowjobs in almost six months. It was always in Sanjay's restrooms or on his balcony. Even in broad daylight at times. On most occasions, Swapna kept an eye out for us."

"I told him no intercourse until I was married, so he fucked my mouth whenever he could."

"OMG..." exclaimed a stunned Roopa.

Malti, having made up her mind, arrived promptly at our house at the usual time. My mother dispatched me on an errand after some small talk.

"Here are the papers," she said, adding, "I have found an auspicious date for the wedding. I'll speak with Kishore bhai to obtain the necessary support from him in order to avoid complications on your parents' side."

"Are you sure?" she inquired.

"But mother, I really want to understand why you're doing this?" Malti asked, nodding.

"We're both doing it for our families," she explained.

"You are a young and beautiful woman, far more beautiful than my son deserves. Allowing you to mate with these real men will do justice to your beauty. And by conceiving from these real men, you are reviving our family's gene pool."

"How am I going to pull this off?"

"There's nothing to it," she explained, "just spend some time with him; he'll have you pregnant in no time."

"I'm only giving him these pills to make sure he doesn't let you down. He's not as young as you are, but he's immensely talented. He's no prince charming, but he'll do you proud in the bedroom."

Learning some of this had jolted me to my core once more. Not because I realized I was being duped. I'd always suspected it, but I thought it was a closely guarded secret. The important people who were close to me were well aware of it. I summoned the courage to confront Swapna and learn from her - to find out if Malti was still hiding anything.

Swapna lived in a remote Mumbai suburb and married soon after Ranjan died. When I arrived at her workplace, I discovered she was pregnant and thus on maternity leave. I made a plan to meet Swapna without telling Malti. It was a long way to her house, so I informed Malti that I was on a business trip. She was at her parents' house for the birth of her child.

Swapna was overjoyed to see me and gave me a warm hug. She introduced me to her family; I'd never met them before, but they'd all heard about Malti and me. She realized why I was paying her a visit and told me we could talk later. They had a small bungalow, and Swapna set up our beds on the terrace that night so we could talk and spend more time together. She was almost in her ninth month of pregnancy, and her parents had heard so much about me and Malti that they didn't hesitate to suggest that we sleep upstairs. Swapna did it almost every night.

Swapna listened to what I had to say and began by apologizing "Sanjay, my apologies. What we did to you was unjust and unfair."

"Would you please forgive Ranjan and me?"

"I don't want to blame you or Ranjan, Swapna. I just want to know the truth. You know how much I adore Malti and want her to be happy."

She detailed everything and even answered all of my questions to the best of her ability. Some of the facts Roopa learned from Malti were things Swapna mentioned to me but Malti glossed over. By the time she finished her narration, it was already 2:00 a.m. I went downstairs to take a leak and returned with a bottle of water. She was waiting for me by the stairs when she pushed me up against the wall and kissed me. She had always been a tall woman, but due to her pregnant belly, she had grown significantly larger.

We made slow and delicate love on her bed, and after a very long break, I was feeling the warmth of a pussy, and I didn't last more than 5 minutes, as expected. She didn't mind because I had spent a lot of time orally pleasing her. She was overjoyed to be relieved in that way.

"Malti is a sexually submissive woman," Swapna exhaled as she drew her comforter over us and took me into her arms.

"To make matters worse, she is the most beautiful woman I've ever met."

"Ranjan was a true alpha male; he always took what he wanted and didn't care about the consequences."

"And honestly, Sanjay, you're not even a tenth of the man he was - both in size and character."

"The fact that he was a lower caste man and she was a Kokanatha Brahmin only fueled his relationship with her."

"Any real man, Sanjay, would have sniffed her out in a matter of hours," she emphasized.

"It's possible that your neighbor has already noticed it and is just waiting for the right moment."

"You do realize that, don't you?"

"You would have been duped one way or another. Someone else if it wasn't Ranjan."

We talked about other things for a while, and then she started kissing me again after about a half-hour or so. After a few kisses, she straddled my face and invited me to lick her pussy. I had just ejaculated inside her a half-hour before, so licking her pussy felt strange.

"Get used to it, Sanjay," she advised, adding, "Malti will love it when you do it to her."

I didn't wait for her approval and licked her the same way I licked Malti when she was full of Gaur's sperm. We had intercourse for the second time, and I lasted about 15 minutes this time. Gaur, on the other hand, could stroke my wife for 45 minutes if he wanted to.

"I always loved how you handle any adversity calmly," Swapna said as I left the next morning.

"Don't be bothered by this. Just keep in mind that finding the right sexual mate for your wife is preferable to having her choose it in such a situation."

"If for some reason you can't find any, perhaps I can persuade my husband; he's just like Ranjan," she said.

As usual, I returned home after work that night. Swapna had taught me a lot about Malti in the one night I spent with her. I realized that Malti would always intentionally gloss over some of the details and only gradually share more and more details. She waits for things to sink in before revealing the gruesome details, and in the case of Ranjan, she hid a lot of things. Besides, she kept changing her mind about my mother's plan, so I was perplexed as well.