Priyamani The Seductress

 I am a 60-year-old man who has been married for over 35 years to my lovely wife, who is 5 years younger than me. We have four children, three sons and a daughter. All of our children are married, and we have several grandchildren now. I retired from the civil service after serving for over 30 years. I am a shy and reserved person in my friend's circle and often prefer solitude over the company of others. My strange history urged me to get on the internet and better understand and appreciate it. Until then, I shunned computers and preferred to work the old-fashioned way. Surprised to learn about this, I thought of penning my story for the benefit of readers.

I come from a small village in South India. We are from a backward, oppressed caste. Even today, in our village, we still have to endure a lot of insults. We live in a city now, and also, because of my status and power, a lot of the discrimination has waned away.

The story starts in the late 1960s, when I was perhaps 7 years old. I was an only child and lived with my mother and father on a small farm on the outskirts of our village. My mother was perhaps 26 years old at the time, and my father was quite older than her, at perhaps 41 years old. My mother was a beautiful woman with a fair complexion. I saw her mostly in a tanned state because of her constant work in the field, though. Her name was Priyamani, but everyone knew her by the shortened version of her name--Mani. It may be interesting to note that she had a striking resemblance to the actress Priyamani from South India. My mother, who was a Brahmin, was raped by a lower caste man, for which her family ostracized her. When I was 6 years old, she married my father, even though he was a man of low caste. We are from Andhra Pradesh state, near the border of Tamil Nadu, but now live in one of the big coastal cities of Andhra.

My mother was considered quite tall at 5'7" in those days, with a proportionate figure and large breasts. Her fair skin drew plenty of men to our farms, as it was uncommon to find light-skinned people among the commoners in our area. She was a tough, strong-willed woman and kept everyone at bay. However, the Zamindar from that area heard about her beauty and frequented our house on some pretext or another. He got into bed with her after helping free my father, who had been locked up after a petty quarrel with some well-to-do folks in the village.

I was 10 years old when I first saw the old landlord make love to my mother. Other women visited his quarters for such illicit affairs, but my mother refused to see him anywhere else. So, he would come to our house, mostly at night. My father would be out in the field watching for wild hogs and other pests that ruined the crops. At that age, all I knew was that they were indulging in something forbidden and nothing beyond that. The significance of his visits dawned on me as I grew older, at which point it scarred my psyche. I loved her and never thought of judging her. She was a practical woman who made decisions with our family's best interests in mind.

Watching her cuckold my father had left an indelible impression on my mind. I remember getting sexually excited when I would find out that one of her lovers was going to pay her a visit that night. Once I grew up, they sent me to boarding school, so I never saw her while having sex. So, it was just my imagination most of the time. The only time I saw them was at that single event, when I was too young to grasp it.

In the light of a lantern, I saw him fondle my mother's body as she lay on the bed where my father used to sleep. The stark contrast between my mother's and his complexion was clear even in that dark room. She turned off the lantern after a few minutes, so I could only hear them. After about 10 minutes, the bed creaked with regular frequency as he humped her. I heard her softly moaning for five more minutes, and then it was over.

I clearly recalled them speaking in code language the next day about his visit. It seems he knew about the Zamindar's nocturnal visits. They talked about "good" or "bad" times, which I came to interpret as the "fertile" period or the "menstrual cycle." Since it was a "good" time, he concluded, he may visit her again. It was just a childlike curiosity, with no sexual feelings, and I never stayed up long enough to see what else may have happened that night.

There was an intense yearning and desire to learn about her sex life. They shuttled me to a boarding school as soon as I turned 13, only a few years after that first episode. I imagined her mating with other men too, but she kept a lot of men at bay and only encouraged the Zamindar. This deep seated desire transformed into a desperate need to see my wife someday with another man. I didn't wait long and felt the gut-wrenching pangs for the first time. It was around that time that my father came to my rescue, helped me understand my quandary, and guided me on my cuckold journey. He was a soft-spoken, mellow, kindhearted man and took special care of me as I was not his biological child and also because I lived away from them for most of my life--first for studies and then for work.

Before I narrate my story, I intend to explain the background story about my mother. It is, however, best told from my father's perspective, as he was very close to it and it is his story to a great extent. The rest of the narration in this chapter is from his perspective.

The word about Mani's beauty spread in our village as soon as we arrived. Everyone envied me and tried to score opportunities with her. She was a hardworking woman and spent a lot of time on the fields, so a lot of people had time to check her out, but none could touch her. Once, someone tried taking liberties, and she put a machete on his neck and challenged him. No one has dared to cross her path ever since. Even the Zamindar heard about her fiery temperament and steered clear of her. However, he was attracted to her and knew that she was a young woman, and an ordinary old man like myself couldn't do justice to her beauty and youth. Mani was only 25, and I was 15 years older than her. He was a powerful man and had enjoyed the pleasures of plenty of women, but seemed to have been smitten by her.

Mani was an educated woman; she had cleared the intermediate exam, which was uncommon for even most men to clear in those days. Still grounded in reality, she had come around to accepting her fate. I felt I would repulse her, but when she lovingly accepted me the same night we reached our home, I knew she had no remorse. Self-pity was not her thing. She accepted life's challenges, put her best foot forward, and left the rest to God. She would freshen herself every night before hitting the bed to greet me. When she was tired, she hesitated.

At 5'5", I was two inches shorter than her, but she never spoke about it. She had large grapefruit sized breasts and a warm, soft, moist vagina that seemed perfect. The first night, when I approached her, I thought she would refuse. She took her time to ensure that her young boy was fast asleep before coming to me.

Laying next to me, she softly kissed my lips and rested her head on my chest. She was fresh like rain and young, like a newly budding flower.

"I know you were worried about the difference between our ages and looks. It doesn't bother me," she said. "You mean the world to me. I don't want you to worry about such things anymore. I am your wife and always available to you."

That was enough for me to feel content that night, but I didn't want to disappoint her. I fondled her body, kissed her cheeks and neck, and suckled on her large tits. She relished it, and we consummated our marriage that night. I couldn't stay inside her for more than a few minutes, but she didn't complain. We slept on that small bed in each other's arms, chatting about small things and dozing off. An hour later, I mounted her again, and this time I stroked for over 10 minutes, and we both climaxed together.

Mani enjoyed sex and was uninhibited during our sessions. In the first year, we did it twice every day. In the first few months, we did it twice in the night and once during the day. Even though kissing on the lips was uncommon, she allowed me to kiss her lips. She even allowed me to French kiss her when she was sufficiently worked up. Tasting her saliva and sucking on her tongue was a surreal experience. During her periods, dry humping and kissing were the primary ways for us to get off.

Mani reciprocated well during our sex, but she was still shy about asking for it. She expected me to take the initiative. On the nights when she herself wanted it, she handed me a towel and soap before our dinner. It soon became an indicator that she was ready and wanted me to make the move that night. Oral sex was something that she resisted for almost a year, but somewhere at the end of the first year, she allowed me to taste her pussy. She relished it a lot more and, after that, allowed me to lick her, but only when she was clean. Although she stroked me, she never took my penis in her mouth until then.

She was a reserved person and talked little, unlike other women. She would raise her voice only once after she gets upset, but after that, she would simmer inside and not throw a tantrum. It took a few months for me to understand and I came around to expecting her likes and dislikes. She never complained; taking everything gracefully in stride. Other men's interests in her came up, but she always mentioned it in passing. She didn't expect me to intervene.

Mani was married for a little over 2 years before her ex-husband passed away and she had to return to her parents, who didn't want to do anything with her or her child. She did odd jobs and managed her son for the next several years until she married me. It was a nightmare with no future as her ex-husband, whom she married only because he raped her several times and made her pregnant, was unstable and had no steady job. They lived with his father and uncle. She did all the housework, apart from taking on a minor job on her own to support the family.

Mani avoided talking about her past sex life since she didn't remember those days fondly, but I was curious about it and would bring back the topic on some pretext or another. After about 9 months, she opened up and shared that her husband's father and uncle, throughout her stay, sexually exploited her. There was no anger, frustration, shame, or remorse on her face. She seemed calm, and I wondered if I really understood her. As the weeks passed, I learned more about her sordid past. Her father-in-law consummated their marriage on the fifth night after their wedding. Her husband's uncle followed soon after that. That night, they each took another turn with her. All the while, her drunkard husband slept right next to her. It became the norm after that, as these men treated her as their wife and demanded sex from her. Her husband got a whiff, but he said nothing. He was callous to her and had no interest in the marriage. He drank to forget about life's responsibilities. He had sex with her, but mostly it was the two elderly people in the house who enjoyed her youthful body.

There was a deaf silence after she shared that with me. My heart was beating wildly, and my penis was stiff. She knew I was sexually excited after hearing about it, but said nothing, and we had a rather long session that night. She opened up and shed some of her inhibitions, and allowed me to lick her vagina soon after that.

Ever since my marriage, Zamindar has shown a special interest in me and my family. It wasn't surprising why he befriended me on some pretext. We owned a few acres of land and avoided debt, so we could steer clear of his evil influence for a while. His interest in Mani compelled him to change his approach, and he frequently called me to speak. A few times, he swung by our place and touched her hands when she offered him tea. Mani ignored it and didn't fuss over it.

Small gifts from him started showing up periodically--fresh produce, vegetables, and fruits from his farms. Our constant water fights with our neighbors stopped and everything seemed to run smoothly. Mani understood the reason behind the sudden change in our fortunes. He had heard about her fiery temperament and opted to take it slowly. He tried his luck once by grabbing her arm, but as she gave him a stern look, he understood it was better to take it slowly than ruin his chances altogether. He was a strong-willed man and always got what he desired. Perhaps he saw a special spark in her and wanted a long standing relationship with her. He could force himself on her and easily achieve it, if sex was all he needed. But Mani was special--meant to be savored and relished, very slowly, over a very long period!

At around the 1-year mark, just as Mani was opening up about her past sexual life with me, he approached me and dropped hints about his desire to sleep with my wife. After asking me to run an errand for him that day, he would say, "Yadurappa, I will swing by your house today."

His intentions were apparent, but I always responded, "It's your house, Swami. You are always welcome!"

Everyone called him "Swami," as in the title, not the name. It meant "master" literally. The feudal lordship had taken deep roots, and he wielded power over the entire village. Most families were financially indebted to him and had sold off their lands to him. Everyone was in some form of debt to him, since only he had the resources to help you in your time of need. No one dared to cross him, and everyone wanted him on their side.

Mani was a mature person for her age. Once our marriage was on a solid foundation, we talked about the main alliances that we had to build to survive in the village and still keep ownership of our farm land. It was common for families to be in debt and then sell their lands. There were several powerful men who could help us, but he was the principal one. Mani understood this and hence didn't fuss over his brief transgression and continued to be courteous to him. She even took on the responsibility of paying for her daughter's tuition. It seemed to be heading in the right direction.

He made over half a dozen visits to our house. Nothing really happened apart from her making some food for him and serving him while he sat in our yard. But it was uncommon for other men to visit when no one was at home. Still, Mani obliged him, spoke and entertained for half an hour.

Just around that time, she shared some of the gory details of her sex life. Mani never regretted her past; she saw it as a character-building experience and focused on the positive aspects of her experience. So, the fact that those men sexually exploited her never bothered her, at least after the initial few days.

"Didn't it hurt you? Physically? To entertain two men in a single night?" I asked. We had just finished a round of sex and were taking a breather. Sometimes we would step out in the middle of the night to take in the fresh air, especially on the nights when we weren't tired and contemplated a second round. She would use it as an opportunity to check our animals in the shed and return from her small errands. I followed her that night and asked while she was feeding them water.

She looked at me and then, attending to her task, replied, "Sex is just like eating, drinking, sleeping, and shitting--only that it is far more pleasurable. Nature has gifted women with the appetite to enjoy a lot of it."

"Did you enjoy sex on the first night?"

She nodded. Since we were both inside the shed already, she cleaned up a few things. I stood there, stunned.

"They were nice to me," she said as she swept the floor. "Both the elderly cared for me and my happiness. Life deprived them of sex for many years, and they knew that I craved it as a newly married woman."

"Unlike you, my dear," she said, kissing my cheek. "My ex-husband was an asshole."

"They were the breadwinners in the house and appeared to be balanced individuals. Marrying one of them would have been better for me."

"You said they were obsessed with sex?" I asked.

She smiled. "Who isn't? Aren't you?"

"Did they screw more than your ex-husband?"

Mani knew such details excited me and had come around to not judging me based on such stupid questions.

"A lot more," she whispered into my ear. I grabbed her and kissed her lips. She parted her lips and let my tongue slither in. French kissing was uncommon, and she sparingly indulged me and then again, only briefly. On that occasion, she asked me to close my mouth and then slowly kissed me, pushing her tongue into my mouth--teaching me how to French Kiss. Her hand crept into my shorts, and she grabbed my flaccid penis, which was becoming erect again. That slow kiss dispelled doubts about my wife's innocence. She, indeed, was a coquette and knew how to make men dance at her will. Clearly, she had Zamindar and me under her spell.

I took the lantern from her hand and put it down. Kneeling in front of her, I kissed her tummy. I lifted her saree and pushed my head under it. Mani was mad with lust as she grabbed the pole supporting the roof and planted her pussy on my lips. I ejaculated inside her only 15 minutes ago, so I was tasting my semen. She loved my tongue. It was the first time we had sex in our shed. Soon after that, I took her from behind and fucked her furiously. Still, I couldn't last more than 5 minutes.

The next morning, sneaking an opportunity, I hugged her and pulled her in for a kiss.

"You are the best thing that happened to me."

"Likewise," she replied, giving me a wet smooch.

As I left for work, I said, "Swami may visit."

"I know." She smiled. "You are going to the market palace today."

There was mischief in her smile. Something was at play. He was trying hard to woo her, but based on the latest development in our relationship, I felt it was possible now. As her comment sank in, I recalled that on several other occasions, he ushered me to the marketplace and visited her on some pretext. It was an hour away from our village, and the entire trip took 4-5 hours. I had noticed that upon my return, I found her greeting me, immaculately dressed. It made me wonder if Mani was preparing herself for him and not for me. She was meticulous about it anyhow, but on those days, she would opt for a regular saree that reached down to her ankles and greeted me with a towel and a soap--an indicator that it was time to light up fireworks in the night.

Mani's behavior towards him started changing after the first year of our marriage. Mani wore a worker-class women's saree that went a little below her knees. In those days, very few women wore brassieres, so her large breasts were only concealed by her blouse and perhaps her saree, which wrapped around her chest and got tucked in near her waist. Those dresses amply exposed the overall figure of a woman. Her shapely calves and her well-shaped butt gave away that she was a special mare and needed a special bull to impregnate her.

She was the tallest woman in our village, and, hence, her shapely figure was a sight for sore eyes. She was on the fairer side--not as much as the North Indian people, but you could see that she was fair with a tanned complexion. Mani hid her bust from the prying eyes of men, but I noticed she wasn't as careful in front of the Zamindar. He may have seen her bust partly covered by her saree frequently and perhaps had seen her large nipples making an impression against the thin cloth of the blouse as well.

Around our 1st anniversary, Mani started dressing in her Iyengar style saree, once a week, especially on Sunday evening. In that nice dress, she looked like a sophisticated woman.

He was gaining mileage with her. I knew he could have taken her at that moment, but it was just not a matter of taking her, but savoring her for the next decade. He couldn't do it with his old tactics, and this time I knew he was keen on having a long-term affair with her. As strange as it sounds, I somehow wanted it to happen. Not for the fringe benefits of such a relationship with him, but I felt he could give a lot of physical pleasure to my wife. She deserved it.

Last month he had put forward his proposal. He grabbed me on some pretext and offered his imported liquor. He had helped me get out of prison only a month ago after I got into a tussle with someone from the village.

"Yadurappa, I am smitten by your wife Priyamani and have been yearning for her company for a long time now," he said. I peered at the door to see if anyone overheard us.

"Don't worry, we are alone," he said.

"Swami," I said. "We are all indebted to you. But we are lesser people and not worthy of such relationships with you."

"Yadurappa, do you dare to refuse my request?" raised his voice.

"No Swami. I told her to visit your house soon after our marriage, but she steadfastly refused. She is strong headed and not easily influenced. I am glad that she doesn't mind your visits now."

"Hmm..."

"I heard she is a Brahmin."

"A chaste Iyengar Brahmin Swami. She has learned to cook meat now but still doesn't eat it."

"You have been married for almost 2 years now. Why don't you have any children yet?"

"I don't know Swami. Every night I slept with her. Maybe because of my age."

"Yadurappa, I am taking her as my mistress," he commanded.

It was surreal. The most powerful man in our village wants to take my wife as his mistress. He had no mistress in our village or our area, although he had tasted a lot of married women. He could have opted to sleep with her a few times and then forget about her, but giving her the status of mistress meant she was special. Still, a mistress would be a single woman and never married, so that was an interesting twist. He must have realized that she would not leave me to become his mistress. So, he would have to share her with me; perhaps that was the only way.

"She's yours, Swami," I said confidently. "But you will have to woo her, romance her, and then you can enjoy her ripe, youthful body."

"Does she ask for sex?"

"No Swami; never. But she seldom refuses," I replied.

"Do you think she would agree?"

"I don't know, Swami, but you are a powerful man, and she respects you. Handle it with tact and she shall be yours."

"Does she ever talk about me?"

"No Swami. You are such a tall, well built, and powerful man. She will approve of you."

"Help my case, Yadurappa," he commanded.

"Yes Swami."

Thus began our tacit understanding. It was common for powerful men to take advantage of lower caste women. I couldn't refuse such a powerful man courting my wife, but even if I could, perhaps I wouldn't have refused him. He was a tall and heavily built man, perhaps the tallest man in our village at 6'3". He weighed perhaps 220 lbs. versus Mani's 130 lbs. He was dark, but I saw how she glanced at him. She didn't think I noticed, but she was attracted to him. After learning about her past, I felt it was possible. Since we didn't have any elderly people in our family, it was easy for us to engage in these sorts of affairs. Soon after that, he started visiting our house by sending me to the marketplace on some pretext or another.

That evening, Mani was in a great mood. She handed me a soap and towel as soon as I entered. There was a mischievous smile on her face. I realized Mani offered me soap and a towel invariably when Swami visited us. She was falling for him, after all.

Dinner was almost ready. Our little one was already in bed by the time we finished dinner. We chatted about mundane things, and after our little one was fast asleep, she led me to our shed to show me a surprise. There in the corner, away from our cows, was Swami's prized breeding bull.

"Why is he here?"

"What do you think?" she asked excitedly. She approached him calmly, boldly entered the pen, and patted his rump. Running her hand carefully against his back, she rested her head on his back and looked at me. It was a breeding bull, and everyone was very careful around it, but Mani seemed to be comfortable with it. It was a marvelous specimen of masculinity. It was a pure white bull that was built for only one purpose--breeding cows. She then boldly walked towards his head, carefully weighing his reaction, and ran her hand over his forehead. She lifted his head and took it in her arms, kissing his forehead.

"So?" she asked, returning to me.

"You are such a charmer," I said, grabbing and kissing her. She kissed me back. My hand crept to her breast. She melted in my arms and kissed me passionately.

"It's for the little one," she said, pointing to our youngest virgin cow.

"She will be ready soon, so Swami lent us his prized bull."

"Isn't she too young? We could have waited a few months."

She smiled.

"And wouldn't this be too much of a bull for such a young cow? We could have used our own bull."

We had a bull that had matured a year ago, but it was a rather ordinary one. And there was no match for the superior genes of Swami's bull, which was primarily meant for breeding.

"Oh that one?" She asked, pointing to our bull. Her tone was rather dismissive, but she quickly corrected it by adding, "He has been trying his luck for the past several months now."

"Let's see," she said, and massaged the bull. There was a special energy in her moves as she took care of his prized bull.

"He urged us to take good care of him."

I watched as she rubbed his body with the grass. There was no fear in her as she handled the bull as if it was her own baby. She hauled a bucket of water and, after pouring some for it to drink, she took the rest and knelt by his quarters and started cleaning his sheath. I didn't expect her to do something of that sort. Touching his sheath with no fear. The bull was comfortable and let her clean his sheath. She then stood and used a soft cloth to wipe his balls. That was definitely something only a brave heart would try, but she had no qualms, and the bull was indifferent. It was an erotic scene, as she cleaned his anus as well. Everyone took care of their cattle, but she was taking care of his prized breeding bull, and that thought somehow made me excited.

She asked me to take our young cow out to the backyard, and she led the bull out behind me. We had a fairly large yard that was fenced in with barbed wire, and leaving the cow alone with the bull seemed like the best strategy; let things happen naturally. As the two animals freely roamed in the yard, I monitored them. Mani picked up a mat and a blanket from inside and joined me. I watched the bull make his move immediately as he sniffed the cow. Mani pulled me down onto the mat and turned off the lantern. She pulled my face and latched onto my lips. Her hand crept into my shorts and fondled my semi-erect penis. The bull attempted to mount the cow. The scene mesmerized us. The cow evaded him and continued to walk playfully around the yard.

"Are you excited?" she whispered. She slipped her hand into my lap and sneaked it into my shorts. My penis was already inflated from watching the scene in front of me. She fondled it as she watched the bull's flaring nostrils, getting excited by the scent. The cow was in heat, and it seemed Zamindar had read it correctly.

Mani was sexually excited as she clung to me and slowly kissed my cheeks. She pulled my face towards her and ran her tongue over my lips. After a minute, she kissed me and started sucking on my tongue. Her breath was so fresh and her hands so delicate. The bull made another attempt to mount, but once again, our cow thwarted its attempt.

"It will take all night," I pleaded.

She smiled. "What's the hurry?"

"Are you surprised to find Swamis' prized bull in our house?"

I turned to her and pulled her pallu (part of the saree that covers a woman's breasts) down and fondled her breasts. She seethed as I twiddled her nipple between my fingers. There were a few more futile attempts by the bull, and it seemed as if the cow needed more time, so he took a breather. Mani laid down and invited me to kiss her. She was in another world--inebriated with lust, kissing me, sucking on my tongue and offering hers to suck. We may have kissed for 15 minutes when we saw the cow make a move toward and sniff his sheath.

I sat up to watch the spectacle, and she joined me. She kissed me on the cheek and whispered into my ears as the bull mounted the cow, "Swami's bull is mounting your cow."

She was slow and deliberate, laying emphasis on "your" word in it.

It was a mesmerizing sight as he finally mounted and covered her. Mani's hand reached for my penis and started massaging it.

"So, rare," exclaimed Mani.

"She knows what's needed of her," I said, talking about the cow.

"Strange, isn't it? Zamindar's bull comes to our house to impregnate our cows," she said.

As the bull dismounted, I turned my attention to her and tugged on her saree folds tucked in. I caressed her navel and pushed my hand into her saree. My finger reached for her clit. She shivered as my finger rubbed it. I kissed her cheek and whispered, "What's stranger is that the Zamindar himself visits us hoping to deliver his bull services," I quipped.

She gripped my hand and dug her nails in. I pushed my finger into her sloppy pussy and twiddled her clit with my thumb. She offered her lips to kiss, and I voraciously chewed on her lips. Pulling out my hand, I offered it for her to lick. She eagerly sucked my finger into her mouth.

She again laid back and pulled me on top of her. My penis slid in effortlessly. For a moment, I felt as if he was already with her. She pushed her pelvis against me as I started stroking her. There was an animalistic passion to our mating. We were both immensely worked up, and within 5 minutes, we both reached a frenetic climax. As we caught our breath, I whispered, "After cleaning his genitals, take his penis in your mouth. Suck on his large testicles and tongue his anus."

Mani looked away, blushing at my crude suggestion.

"You find him attractive. Don't you?" I asked. My shriveled penis was still inside her sloppy pussy.

She wiped her mouth and pushed me away. She tidied her clothes and approached her cow to check on her. Our cow was fine, and then Mani turned her attention to Swamis' prized bull, and, showering her love, she finally headed back. Our little one was fast asleep. Mani quietly slept next to him while I took my usual cot. I was twisting and turning in bed for half-hour when I couldn't sleep, I called out to her, "Mani, are you asleep?"

She mumbled, "Go to sleep. It's enough adventure for one night."

"I can't."

She didn't respond, and after about 10 minutes, she walked to the cot and slept next to me. She reached for my semi-erect penis and fondled it. She nibbled on my earlobe and said, "You want the Zamindar to breed your wife, ha?"

It wasn't the first time we spoke about him. Mani never hid it from me. He was visiting her behind my back. The funny thing was, he would ask me for a favor and, after I agreed to it, he would drop in so that he could swing by my house. Neither would he hide it from Mani--he specifically reminded her during each visit that he sent me to the marketplace to get a few things. She quickly realized what he was trying to do.

As I thought about what transpired that night, Mani caressed my body.

"Do you want me to do those dirty things to him?"

"Yes, Mani. He is our Swami," I quipped. "He deserves your special love and care."

"Even if you don't get what he gets?"

"Especially then," I said as I planted my lips on hers.

"Why? Because he is our Swami?" She asked.

"That's just one reason he may enjoy your charms," I replied. "I feel good when I see his eyes filled with envy whenever he sees you. Knowing what you can offer him, he will definitely feel jealous of me. He may not know that you are treating him more kindly, but I would."

"You are my Swami," she quipped, and rested her head back on my chest.

"And he is ours. He has shown a lot of restraint--very unusual for him. He would have taken you in the first 3 months itself; in your case, in the first week itself."

"I suppose he is a powerful man and you wish to be in his good books."

"Even if you were half as beautiful, he would have taken you in the first month itself, without your consent. Learning how responsive you are during sex, he would have visited often. It would have been the same story as in your past."

"We are low class people to fend off such powerful figures," I added.

She was quiet for a while. She fiddled with my penis for a little while and then looked at me with her loving eyes.

"Sexually, did you enjoy your previous marriage?"

I caught her off guard with that question. She seemed nervous and, after a moment of hesitation, she said, "Very much. I led a debauched but sexually satisfying life."

"Can you tell me more?"

She thought about it and said, "You are very considerate and won't judge me. So, there is no harm in sharing."

And then she shared gory details about her sex life.

The moment she entered their household, the elderly's lewd eyes were on her constantly. The husband was disturbed that he had been forced into the marriage, but the elders were supportive. They lived in a tiny 2-bedroom house, and it was apparent to the elders that the couple hadn't consummated their marriage. Her husband quarreled with her several times. The following weekend, the father made his move. The door was never closed--one clue that they weren't planning on having any sex. He laid next to her and fondled her body. Mani was a heavy sleeper and realized nothing until he worked her up. Despite her resistance, he mounted her and penetrated her in a flash. She silently enjoyed his fucking, which lasted only a few minutes.

Her husband was drunk and didn't even move. She went outside to clean herself, and on her return, her father-in-law's elder brother caught her and kissed her. That was the first time she kissed someone. He was much stronger and more persistent, and she didn't dare put up a fight. She realized he was much larger than her as he pushed her back against the wall, mauled her breasts, and kissed her on the mouth and cheeks. His large palms could fully cover her breasts. She let him lead her quietly back into the house. Her father-in-law was in another bedroom, so he led her back to the same bed where she was sleeping with her husband. She felt puny in front of him as he squeezed next to her and fondled her whole body, slobbering over her mouth. Despite her apprehensions, she parted her lips for him and tasted the alcohol on his breath. He kept on kissing her and she was fully worked up and helped him get erect as well. He finally mounted her and stroked her for a good 15 minutes before ejaculating inside her.

Similar repeats happened that night. Her father-in-law was still working, but his elder brother was retired, so he was the one who pursued her and got to enjoy her the most. He was 60 years old but had tremendous energy and fucked her at least twice every day. Her father-in-law had lots of energy, and he fucked her at least once every night. With her husband, the frequency was perhaps five times a week. She had the most sex in the first 6 months of her marriage and until about the 8th month of her pregnancy. For the first few months, she had sex three to four times every single day.

Once again, my sexual anxiety was at its peak, and I was already fingering her. By the time she finished her story, she was on the verge of her climax. I encouraged her to straddle my face--something that we had never done--saying, "I need to savor this pussy that has entertained so many men already."

Sliding a little lower on the bed, I pulled her down onto my mouth. I lapped up her soaking pussy, and I eagerly drank the mixture of my semen and her juices. Five minutes later, she shuddered at the intense climax. Sliding backwards, she pushed my penis into her slippery vagina and rode me--again for the first time--for another 5 minutes. We finally separated that night and dozed off to sleep.

The next morning, when I woke up, Mani was already ready and busy in the kitchen preparing breakfast for us. Our boy just woke up and went about his morning duties. I hugged her from behind and planted a soft kiss on her neck.

"Your cow seems to approve of Swami's bull," she said. "He mounted her three times last night."

"Should we see if our bull has a chance?" I asked.

She smiled. "It's better to let Swami's bull's seed impregnate her. Don't you think so?"

"Didn't you see how she was struggling under his weight. It must have been the most intense experience of her life," she whispered.

"Are you also waiting for Swami's seed?" I said, rubbing her naked belly. Mani froze for an instant and looked at me. Her eyes brimmed with lust. Her luscious lips parted, let out a deep exhale. I didn't wait and latched onto her lips and kissed her passionately. She slobbered over my mouth. We got disturbed by our boy, and I left to freshen up. That morning, as she bid us good bye, she spoke with her pretty eyes, conveying her sexual hunger. I dropped our son off at school and headed back to my work.

On the field, as I did my work, my mind constantly drifted to this recent development in our lives. Mani never judged me, but I wondered if it was common for men to crave seeing their wives sleep with other men. In my fantasies, it was always a virile, powerful man taking my wife; it was never just another man. During my first marriage, which lasted a few years, I had a similar desire, but Swami took no interest in her. She was an ordinary, low-class woman, but Mani was beautiful, fair-skinned, and a Brahmin woman. He would be attracted to her, but even she was drawn to him.

She dropped lunch at the normal time and handed it with a mischievous smile. The Zamindar was heading out of the town, so even if Mani had decided, nothing would have been possible. Ever since she arrived, she made sure that I had something on the side that was meant to boost my sexual vigor. Despite my age, I could court her attention daily and even perform admirably. On that day too, I saw her special preparation as a side and two large onions. Sometimes she complained about onion breath, but now it doesn't bother her. Incidentally, ever since we started kissing, perhaps in the third month, I have been regularly eating my onions again. It is only now that she has increased the dosage of it. She was much younger than me and, hence, was taking measures to prolong our sexual life, which I certainly cherished. However, the more my sexual vigor increased, the more I also longed to see her with our Swami.

It took much longer for me to wrap up my work. Upon my return, she greeted me with soap and a towel. It was uncommon for her to do that two days in a row. We toiled during the days on the field and, hence, sex, apart from a bodily need, was also a luxury. However, our planting season had begun, and we had to focus on our work. We had used the quiet period in our farming cycle productively to bond. That night, we were both weary, but Mani was like a bitch in the heat. She desperately needed it. Laying next to me, she immediately kissed me and pushed her tongue into my mouth. She slobbered over my mouth constantly as she kept on kissing me. The intensity was apparent. I realized that she needed a lot more relief. I urged her to straddle my face, and she obliged. Mani was aggressive as she practically ground her pussy against my lips. There was an animalistic hunger in her--she behaved as if after a long famine she was getting sex. She was far more reserved and docile on her first night. Mani made me eat her for a good 15 minutes before settling into the riding position again and riding me. I liked this position since it required little effort from me and also because it was the dominant position for her and not me.

We dozed off quickly that night. The next few nights went similarly--Mani was mad with lust and fed my insecurities with each passing day. There was an irrational fear that she would leave me for him, but in the corner of my heart, I knew that her preference for him was only for sex. Her periods arrived and there was some respite for a couple of days, but it had become a ritual and if I hadn't felt the warmth of her body, I didn't feel the day ended on the right note. Still, I slept peacefully for a couple of nights, but on the third night, I had the urge to call for her in the middle of the night.

She had dozed off and upon calling her the second time, she joined me on the bed.

"You have become insatiable," she complained, as she lovingly hugged me and laid her head on my chest.

"Ever since Swami's bull mounted our cow, your libido has gone through the roof as well," I remarked. She lay quietly and played with my nipple, rubbing her fingers against the tip and pinching it.

"Is it odd? For me to get sexually excited by imagining you with him?"

She looked at me and whispered, "It's odd, but I quite like it."

"Of the three, with whom did you enjoy sex the most?" I asked. She blushed but didn't hide her face, and after looking deeply into my eyes, said, "It was the uncle."

Surprised with my reaction, she elaborated, "On the first night itself, he tried to kiss me, but I avoided him. After it seemed I wouldn't revolt, he led me back to the same bed and romanced me just the way I expected my husband to. He worked me up and at some point, I don't know when, I was deeply kissing him. Once he was inside, I felt overwhelmed by his girth, and we had a 25 minute long intense fuck while our mouths remained glued."

"Was he much larger?" I asked.

"Imagine Swami mounting me, an almost virgin young girl. Feeling his weight and his thick equipment that struggled to contain itself in my tight pussy, I could only writhe with a mixture of pain and pleasure."

She latched onto my lips and started stroking my penis. It was the first time she stroked me. She didn't wait and continued kissing me and stroking me. I fondled her body, squeezed her breasts throughout. It took a few minutes, but I exploded with an intense orgasm. She wiped me off with a rag and was about to leave when I pulled her again.

She laid next to me and said, "I knew it was my fate to warm up Swami's bed after I married you and came to our village."

"If it's fate after all, then why not just enjoy it?"

We slept in each other's arms that night on that single bed and woke up the next morning. It was some downtime for me, so I helped with a few errands at home. There were doubts about my virility, which I clarified with her. She simply laughed it off and said, "You are a virile man. If I hadn't taken care, I would have already delivered by now."

"If I get pregnant now, how would we manage the farm work?"

"So, we won't need Swami for it?" I asked, jokingly. She blushed and let it slide. Rather than waste time, I helped with some of the things we had to do for Diwali.

That evening, Mani was sexually excited and approached me for sex without even asking for it. She immediately kissed me and pushed her tongue into my mouth. It's not that she hadn't shown such a hunger for sex, but it was definitely the first time I saw her aggression. She kissed me for 5 minutes and then fed me her breasts to suck on. Her breasts were soft and sizable, something that anyone would relish. I licked her breasts and nibbled on her nipples. She was delirious and, upon my urging, once again she straddled my face and let me lick her. She shuddered with an intense climax after 15 minutes of non stop eating.

She slid back next to me and caught her breath. Her face glowed in that candle light; there was immense satisfaction on her face. Something that I loved to see but perhaps didn't see as much as I had wished it.

"Mani, do you enjoy my tongue more or my penis?" I dared to ask. She was stunned by my question and reprimanded me. "What has gotten into you? Can't I simply enjoy it? Why do we need to talk about it?"

"Mani, I am not judging you, just wondering," I quipped. She ignored it for a few precious moments and then asked, "Do you really wish to know?" I eagerly nodded. "I enjoy both, but love your tongue more. It feels much better than having your cock inside."

"I love tasting you. We can do it more often," I pleaded. She blushed. "I thought so. You love the smell and taste of it. Nothing stops you from tasting it."

"Did Uncle have the largest cock of the four men you have been with?" I asked.

She rolled her eyes and played with her Mangalsutra, the necklace that married women wear as a sign of their marriage-she whispered, "You know who it is. Don't you?"

"Uncle," I said. She blushed. I asked, "Did you wish you had rather gotten pregnant by him?"

She frowned and turned away from me. I tried to hug her from behind, but she sulked and pushed my hand away. Her green bangles clinked as she angrily pushed my hands away with each attempt. After a few futile attempts, she let me fondle her body again, and this time, after massaging her arm for a little while, I finally fondled her breasts. She seethed as I slowly squeezed her breasts. Her breasts were soft and quite full and looked a lot more pronounced against her flat tummy and athletic body. She unbuckled her blouse and let me fondle her naked breasts. I started my gentle milking motion, which she seemed to relish. After a few minutes of that, she got on top of me, offering her breasts, but I had a different idea and got up. She continued to stay on her fours on our cot as I circled back and patted her rump.

Mani was filled with lust even though she had already had her orgasm only minutes ago. No wonder she could keep up with three men during the two years of her marriage. I knelt in front of her and mimicked the milking action. Mani moaned. She rolled her tongue around her lips, looking at me seductively. It was apparent why our Zamindar was smitten by her. She was a one of a kind woman--not just young and beautiful, but also hot and uninhibited. It took quite a while for him to build a relationship with her, but finally he seemed to have pierced through her protective shell.

I tried to remove her blouse, but she wouldn't let me. In the almost 2 years of our marriage, she didn't let me see her naked even once. Although I had seen her naked breasts, she always wore a blouse. She never showed me her pussy, so that was something that I only remembered by its smell and taste. I finally made my way back to her butt and lifted her saree and kissed her butt. She let out a loud moan, realizing that I wanted to taste her again that night. I nuzzled her anus, and she loudly sucked air in and spread her legs, providing better access. I tongued her anus, and she went wild with lust, pushing her butt back against my tongue. Her anus had a musky odor that was intense and much different from her pussy, but I liked it. Every part of Mani's body was special, and I probed her anus with my tongue, tracing her sphincter muscles with my tongue and licking it until she started loudly moaning. My fingers started probing her hole, and Mani was eager to push back against them.

Mani's guttural moans encouraged me to continue my fingering, and I boldly probed both her anus and pussy. It took only a few more minutes and Mani was dripping her juices and withering with yet another orgasm. Even after her earth-shattering orgasm, she continued to stay in that position. I squeezed her breasts and milked them for a few moments and said, "Mani, it's time for these breasts to produce milk again." She looked at me with her sultry eyes; her lips were parted, and between her labored breaths, I could see her lips curve into a sensuous smile.

She crashed on the cot and invited me into her arms. As I slid into her arms, she kissed me on my lips and said, "And let me guess, you want Swami to do the honors." Her hand felt my taut penis, and I realized that there was no reason to speak about such things. She kissed me and played with my tongue as she stroked my penis. Mani was in an electric mood as she continued to swap saliva with me and massaged my testicles. She was deliberately slow, elongating my ejaculation. She had no intention of riding, me that night. Perhaps it was finally time for her to let me know she was ready--ready to mate with our Swami and conceive from him. Mani was stroking me peculiarly, which sort of delayed my ejaculation. Occasionally, she would push my penis down, pointing it to my toes; almost pushing it down even further. Even the way she gripped my penis seemed unnatural; instead of her thumb and index finger at the tip, they were at the base of my penis. Mani pushed my ejaculation for a good 10 minutes, but finally I sputtered my penis, and even for that she denied me ejaculation by pushing my penis down. It was something that I hadn't experienced. Instead of ejaculating with intensity, it simply dribbled out of the penis now.

Exhausted, she limped to her bed that night. We slept-in much longer that night. The Diwali holidays had started for our son, so he got up late too. Things were much quieter anyway, now that the planting season was over for us. Mani prepared a different sort of breakfast for us. After our son ran out to play with the neighbor's kids, I finally accosted her and nuzzled her neck. She pushed me away, but I persisted and eventually knelt in front of her, pleading to taste her pussy again. Despite her protests, I pushed her saree above and pushed my face into her crotch. She stood by the window to keep an eye while I continued licking her. It took only 10 minutes, but she came with another incredible orgasm.

Mani's face was glowing. Her breath was still labored with that intense orgasm. She offered me a glass of water and softly said, "After a few days, it would be a good time to conceive our second child." She blushed and left me to carry on with my activities. My mind was on steroids and I kept on wondering why she told me that. Did she really want me to invite our Swami on some pretext to our place? But, of course, he needed no such pretext.

That evening, Mani was tired and took some rest, but I was restless and called for her. Drudgingly, she came to the cot again and slept next to me. Facing me, she asked, "You have gotten no relief today. I am tired, so you will have to do all the work."

I kissed her soft lips. I could inhale her natural breath and body odor as she hadn't taken a bath in the evening, thinking that perhaps we both would rather catch some sleep. I found her natural odors attractive. She parted her lips and languidly kissed me. I squeezed her breasts to work her up. Mani was always ready for sex--that was something I quickly realized during our marriage. I unbuttoned her blouse and sucked on her tits. Mani loved it when I tasted her breasts. I wish I had done it more often. She cradled my head against her chest as she played with my hair and seethed. My tongue and teeth were roughly playing with her nipples.

She was finally hot and wanted sex. Her pointing toes told me she was ready to be mounted. But I wanted to savor her first.

"I want to taste your honeypot, Mani," I whispered.

"Hmm..."

"Today it may smell like a stinky pot," she retorted as she squirmed on the bed. It was apparent that she wanted it, but since she hadn't showered, she didn't think it was appropriate. Mani had, of course, also learned that such things didn't matter to me, and I liked to taste her on any day, irrespective of the state of her pussy.

As I headed south, she lifted her bum and pulled her saree up. Those sarees didn't have a flare, and hence it always took effort to pull them up.

"Have you heard about Kamasutra?" I asked. Mani smiled. "Not just read but practiced."

"Should we try pleasuring each other orally?" I dared ask. She blushed and avoided my eyes for a moment. "Ok, get your feet on this side." I eagerly slept next to her in the opposite direction. She lifted her leg and let me slide my face in between her thighs. Her pussy was definitely not as stale as she claimed. I started to love it because it had the natural odor of a genital organ. She moaned as soon as I pushed my tongue into her twat. She fondled my penis but didn't dive in immediately. Her thumb rubbed on the knob, and she massaged my testicles. After a bit of hesitation, she sucked on my knob. It was an out-of-this-world sensation to feel her soft lips and warm breath on the most sensitive part of my body. She suckled on it like a baby suckling on a mother's breast. Her breath drove me crazy, and I returned the favor by eating her out as if I was starving from a famine. She kissed my testicles and sucked them as well for a few minutes. She stroked my penis, and we both timed our orgasms in perfect unison.

Mani let me clean myself before returning to her. She kissed me and slept in my arms for another hour. We chatted about other things, as we both had a climax and knew we were done for the night. Physically, the days had not been as taxing as the plantation days, so we indulged much longer. It amazed me to learn about her history and how miserable her current life was compared to a privileged life as a child. She was well versed in Bharatanatyam and also understood all the Brahmin traditions and made sure that our son learned everything. After almost an hour of mundane topics, we turned our attention to the chief topic--Swami. I told her that Swami had approached her with a proposal and that he wanted to take her as his mistress. She frowned at his direct approach, but knew it was a natural progression and didn't fuss over it too much.

"Mani do you want to become his mistress?" I asked, pushing forward the key question. My hand fondled her breast once again that night, and this time, I homed in on her nipple and tugged on it through the thin cotton cloth of the blouse. She moaned as I played with her breasts and nipples.

"It's time that you were bred properly, don't you think, Mani?" I asked. She slithered into the bed and let out a deep moan. My hand traced her breasts and caressed her taut tummy. She shivered as she realized that the moment she surrendered herself to him wasn't far off. My hand moved to her saree, and once again she assisted me by pulling her saree up, so that I could finger her pussy.

As I pushed my finger in, she deeply sucked in air and held my hand in place. Her parted lips clearly conveyed that she was imaging his fat penis instead of my finger. I kissed her lips; she didn't care to respond and let me lick her lips.

"Is he okay with you fingering his woman?" she asked. She didn't offer me her tongue as I continued to kiss her.

"You agree that I am his woman. Don't you?" she asked as I desperately tried to devour her mouth.

I started furiously fucking her with my finger. Mani was already lubricated as she expected I would put forward his proposal at any moment. Still, I fingered her for a good 10 minutes before she climaxed a second time that night. Soon after that, she pushed me away and left me that night without answering my question. But it was clear that she was ready to mate with the village breeding bull.

I couldn't sleep that night and kept tossing on the cot, and after a few hours, nearly an hour before sunrise, I moved to her and slept next to her, fondling her body. She was fast asleep and didn't notice me making a move. After a little while, she mumbled, "Haven't you had enough?" I ignored her and slid down and pushed her saree up with a bit of effort and nestled between her legs and sucked on her pussy. Mani wasn't as sexually excited as I had expected, but it only took a few minutes before she started lubricating again. She let me eat for a good 10 minutes, but she only softly moaned and was nowhere near climaxing. She then got up and straddled my face and literally sat on my face and ground her pussy on my lips. There was an animalistic hunger in her, as if she desperately wanted relief and that was the only way to achieve it. After another 10 minutes of that licking, she climaxed, but it wasn't as intense as before.

She laid next to me and caught her breath. Her hand reached to my penis, which was in a semi-erect state. She played with it for a little while and then turned on her side to face me.

"You want your wife to be his mistress?" she asked me. Her mild stale breath hit me, but she was worked up and didn't care. She kissed me and pushed her tongue into my mouth. I sucked on it and swapped saliva with her. Her hand started stroking my penis, which was inflating to its full proportions.

"Tell me what he wants?" she asked sensuously as she toyed with my penis. "He wants you to be sexually available to him and demanded that I stay away from you during your fertile period," I said with a sigh.

"Why?" She inquired as her intense breath drove me insane with lust. I had freshened up before waking her up, so I was clean, but she wasn't, and that intensity was driving me nuts. Mani's sex was in hyper drive and I could sense it in her breath.

"Is he worried you may score over him?" she added. Mani slobbered over my mouth as she slowly caressed my balls and felt my penis.

"He told me I could no longer mount you," I added between the kisses.

"Serves you right," she quipped as she squeezed my balls until I almost yelped.

"Wonder what took you so long to invite him?" she whispered as she stroked my penis. She offered her lips for me to suck on. I thrust against her hand and swapped saliva with her. In a few minutes, I ejaculated, shooting my sperm all over her fingers. She drew back instinctively, wiped it on my lips, and kissed me. Mani had transformed into a completely different person, and her new behavior only elicited lustful thoughts about her. In fact, whenever I saw her in the last few weeks, the only thing I could think of was sex. I finally slept for a few hours while Mani took care of the morning errands. We didn't speak about it the rest of the day. In the afternoon, I told her that Swami would come over for dinner a few days before Diwali, which was only a week away. Based on my calculations, she would have been at the peak of her fertile period. She had that mischievous smile on her face, and I knew that she too wanted it.

Mani toyed with me the rest of the day and wouldn't let me touch her. Finally, the night before the day Swami was invited for dinner, she herself came to the cot. She slid next to me and whispered, "It's important that we talk."

"Do you really want what Swami is proposing?" she asked. I nodded.

"We are indebted to him, but what he is asking for is a lot more than what he deserves. If you are agreeing with him only to garner his support, then we shouldn't accept his proposal. Offer him to share me with him for a few nights. And refuse to oblige during my fertile days. Do you understand what I am saying?"

"I don't think that would appease him," I retorted.

"Don't you like him? I thought he would do justice to your beauty. Offering him that exclusive access will ensure that he will not look at any other woman and keep you sexually happy. And of course, his seed would grow in your womb."

"You are not getting it," she emphasized. "He will breed me day and night. Do you want to raise 3-4 of his children?"

"Don't you want to breed with him? Don't you want his children to suckle on your breasts?"

Mani was quiet for a little while and didn't understand how to respond.

"A woman naturally gravitates towards someone who is physically strong and pursues her irrespective of societal norms. Subconsciously, she wants to breed with such a man. This is natural, but that doesn't mean we should accept it as our fate," she said.

"In my previous marriage, I had the desire to be impregnated by my father-in-law's elder brother. He was the real man in that household. It almost seemed as if I would miscarry, and hence I willingly started satisfying him orally to minimize intercourse in the first couple of months."

"Mani, this may sound odd," I pleaded. "But I think of you as the most precious cow and only the breeding bull should sire your calves, no one else. Strangely, these thoughts don't make me angry, they make me sexually excited."

She turned to face me, caressed my cheek, and softly whispered, "Seems like you want your wife to breed with the village bull." She touched my chest and felt my heart beat and knew that it was pacing as if I was sprinting. "I am glad that you find it sexually exciting. It seems our fate was preordained, anyway."

She softly kissed me on the cheek and pushed her hand into my pajamas and caught my erect penis. Over the last few weeks, she gained a lot of confidence and knew that she had an upper hand in our relationship.

"Do you find him attractive?" I asked. She whispered directly into my ear, "Very much!" She nibbled on my earlobe and licked my earlobe. Her warm breath was driving me crazy, but I knew I had to control myself. She placed her face right in front of mine, her lips only an inch away from mine. She was purposely testing my control.

She then narrated a few things that happened between her and Swami. It was important for us to embark on such a relationship with a solid foundation of trust. It was no surprise that Swami had been trying his charm on her for a long time. After his failed brusque attempt at forcing himself on her, he took it easy and didn't encroach on our boundaries. It was a rather slow and long process, but eventually he made progress. It was a mixture of both Swami's maturity and Mani's willingness to accept our predicament. For a change, Mani had worn her native style sarees on Sunday evenings, but for the past few weeks, she seemed to put a lot of effort into preparing herself. Obviously, it was more for the benefit of Swami in hindsight.

A few weeks ago, he touched her hand as she offered him a cup of tea. I was around that day, and although I didn't notice it, I saw her blush and rush back inside our house as I turned around. He not only touched her hand, but caressed her hand right there in front of me. She blushed, giving him a clear sign that she understood his intentions and didn't mind it. That was the only invitation he needed. That same day, while I was out of sight, he spoke to her about his breeding bull.

"Priyamani," he said, "it seems this one is ready to breed," pointing to our youngest cow. She ignored him for a few moments, but then, mustering courage, replied, "Swami, she is quite young; not ready yet."

"Younger is better, Mani," he argued.

"Our bull has been trying unsuccessfully," she replied.

"Of course, she is not ready for him. I was talking about a real bull," he emphasized.

She gulped her saliva, hearing him speak so openly.

"I can bring over our breeding bull. You can see for yourself, if she is ready or not?"

"No no Swami. She is very young for your breeding bull," pleaded Mani.

He stepped closer to her and whispered, "Mani that's how they like it. Trust me. I have seen it. The bigger it is, the better they like it."

I had arrived at the scene then; he had to stop pursuing her, but it was apparent to him she was game and would yield soon.

"He was clear," I said, exhilarated. Mani softly whispered, "My pussy lips were so wet."

"If you had gotten down on your fours, he would have mounted you right there," I added. She hit me on my arm. "You really want me to become his slut?" she asked rhetorically.

She fondled my balls and squeezed my penis as she exhaled into my mouth, but avoided kissing me.

"He reminds me of my previous father-in-law's older brother. So, I was ready to breed with him--ever since I moved here," she added.

"The breeding bull was for the cow or you?" I asked. She smiled and said, "Both."

"His prized bull was an epitome of masculinity. The moment I saw him, my vagina was inundated with juices. The moment of my union with Swami was not very far away. He taught me how to take care of the bull in our shed. The bull was fidgety and prancing around even as I massaged him. 'He is sensing the scent of females in heat,' he said. 'Females?' I asked, confused. 'But, of course, Mani, he knows you too are in heat,' he said. I was embarrassed to hear it, but I knew he was speaking the truth. 'If you took your position under him on all your fours, he would know what to do,' he added."

"I couldn't take it anymore and tried to walk out of the shed, when he grabbed me and pulled me into his embrace from behind. That was the first time I felt his rough hands on my naked stomach. 'Come on Mani, it is time for this belly to swell with my seed,' he said and kissed my neck. His hands gently reached for my breasts and fondled my squishy breasts. 'How soft and ripe these are,' he whispered."

"I tried to escape from his grip, but he knew I was his now. He inhaled my fresh aroma and pushed his pelvis against my butt. I felt his hardness on my lower back. His large hands were on my breasts, feeling them completely. His fingers homed in on my tiny nipples and pinched them. His masculine body odor was driving me crazy. I imagined kneeling right there so he could mount me. There was a pent-up hunger to mate with a well endowed man that drove me mad with lust. However, just then, our son came looking for me, and I tried to step away from him, but he held me and continued to maul my breasts."

"'He will watch you pleasure me eventually,' he whispered. 'He should know that his mother is a slut, don't you think?' he added. 'Swami let me go,' I pleaded. He had animalistic hunger as he licked my neck and cheeks. As our son called my name, looking for me all over, he squeezed my breasts with the utmost sense of urgency. 'Swami,' I pleaded. 'It's strange for a woman like you to go without a pregnancy for 6 years.' he said. 'It's surprising that you are still not pregnant even after almost 2 years of your marriage.' Fortunately, he let me go just before he was about to enter the shed, and I led him inside our house."

"Oh really, it would have happened anyhow?" I asked. She was embarrassed by her childish gesture now. She knew I would have supported her, but she insisted on waiting until I admitted to my perversion.

"What now?" I asked.

"Guess your fantasy will come true soon," she breathed.

"Mani, he wants to impregnate you," I said, as she slowly stroked my penis. Mani pulled up her saree and invited me to take her. "You are fertile now, aren't you?" I hesitantly asked as I took my place between her legs. "Yes," she said, lining up my penis against the entrance of her vagina. She rubbed my knob against her lips as the decision weighed on both of us. "Well if you insist on having him impregnate me then, we will have to imagine that I am having my periods."

During our periods, we rubbed our genitals, but our genitals never came into physical contact. So, this was a novel experience. As she pulled me in and laid the penis against the pussy lips, but with the tip just above the clit. "Come on, honey," she sensually whispered, "show me you really want to raise Swami's child." She pulled my butt, and I instinctively knew what she wanted. As I ground my hips against her, my penis nestled between her lips, but not penetrated them. It was a surreal experience. I had this intense desire to see her pleasure our Zamindar and not because we would garner some benefits. I really wanted it because I knew he could do justice to her beauty. She pushed back against me, drawing me in and tempting me to penetrate her, but strangely enough, I was careful enough to not separate from her and risk penetrating her.

Mani avoided kissing me but kept her lips very close to mine, so I could inhale her breath. It was driving me crazy, and I kept on grounding my pelvis against her vagina. The only reason I could even hold off on my ejaculation was because I had masturbated early that evening. As the tension built, she said, "Swami is going to ravage me. He is a breeding bull and will keep me pregnant for a long time." She caressed my naked butt. Her fingers reached to my anus; as she probed it, she said, "He is going to fuck me there too." It was too much for me, and I sputtered my semen on her belly.

She wiped it off with her saree and let me crash next to her. We lay there silently for several minutes, and then she got up from our bed and left, saying, "Make sure he visits us tomorrow."

The festival of Diwali was only a few days away, and hence the timing seemed perfect. The next evening, Mani meticulously prepared herself for the event. She made a sumptuous dinner for us and gracefully served us at night. As usual, we sat outside our house and started consuming alcohol while she kept on serving us tasty dishes. Swami peppered me with his imported liquor, with the obvious intention of getting me drunk. They were both drooling over each other, and I knew tonight he would mount Mani and knock her up. After one drink, I made an excuse to relieve myself and headed to the open space behind our hut. I timed it so that Mani would arrive with her next dish just as I stepped out of sight.

Swami didn't disappoint me and accosted her as soon as I stepped out. Mani's face was red with embarrassment as he grabbed her openly in our yard. She evaded him and ran towards our house, but he caught up with her and pushed her back against the wall. He squeezed her breasts and pushed his body against hers. Even as she stood on a step while he stood on the ground, he still towered over her. Just watching him next to her felt surreal. It seemed like a sublime contrast between the two.

Mani was nervous and sexually excited, but she allowed him while monitoring the direction I had headed out. Fortunately, I was peeping in from a different location, and hence she didn't notice me. His large hand completely encircled her breast. He leaned forward and tried to kiss her, but she turned her face away. It didn't dissuade him as he kissed her cheek and continued to knead her breast. Mani let him kiss her cheek for a few moments, and then gradually turned her face to him and offered her lips, but only cursorily. It was surreal to see her kiss him so openly. Her hand fondled his bulge for a few moments, and then she pushed him away and hurried inside the house. It was a brief kiss, but it lasted an eternity in my mind.

Our son had gone to bed already, so they had complete freedom now. I acted drunk to escalate the situation. Only 15 minutes later, they left me sleeping on the cot in the yard, and Swami entered our house for the first time. Mani closed our door as she lovingly looked at me sleeping on the cot outside. I rushed to the window, which was only partially pulled in. There was rarely a need to close the window back then; on summer nights, we sometimes slept outside in the yard, so privacy concerns were non-existent.

Mani had pulled the curtain between the two sections for more privacy; we rarely did that, but today was special, so she made sure our son didn't get disturbed by her activities. They were standing not over 3 feet away from the window. He had taken Mani into his embrace from behind and was kissing her cheek. He towered over Mani, even though she was quite tall and well-built by normal standards. Mani's tender, moist lips were deep red, eagerly awaiting Swami's dark lips. Her flared nostrils conveyed her desire for him.

He freed her hair that was tied in a knot behind her head and inhaled the fresh aroma of her hair. She was in a trance as she leaned back comfortably against him. He pulled away her saree pallu that covered her breasts and exposed her slender figure and her shapely and sizable breasts. Mani's slender, milky waist, with taut stomach muscles and jutting breasts wrapped only in a layer of thin cotton cloth, was a site for sore eyes. His large hands fondling her naked waist and inching towards her breasts caused me to leak my precum.

Mani seethed in his arms as his large hands fondled her breasts. They were large enough to cover her sizable breasts. Swami was deliberate and didn't rush but slowly massaged and fondled her breasts. He continued nuzzling her neck and kissing her cheek, and Mani kept on turning her face towards him, bridging the distance between their lips ever so subtly. Swami was besotted with her breasts and continuously mauled her breasts. Mani enjoyed his actions and pushed herself back against him, lifting herself ever so lightly on her toes to align her butt with his crotch.

Swami focused on her nipples, pinching and pulling on them. Mani was delirious; her lips parted and her tongue licked her lips. Her cheeks were wet with his saliva as he kept on sucking on her cheeks, and even though she turned her face and offered her lips, he would retreat the moment his lips reached the corner of her mouth. The cat-and-mouse game continued for a little while, and then he sat on the cot and pulled her into his lap.

He played with her breasts as if he was kneading dough. Mani was mad with lust for him, and after a few minutes of that, she turned around and pulled his face and planted her lips on his. Mani was the aggressor as she kissed him and pushed her tongue into his mouth. My wife was obsessed with the town bull, and I had no idea. Obviously, I had waited far too long for this to happen. Mani was clearly the aggressor as she kept on kissing him while he tried to get rid of her saree. Finally, dressed only in her blouse and ghagra, she stood there in front of him. She wore such a dress only on special occasions; her usual attire was a simple blouse, and a saree wrapped in the typical style of women who worked on the fields. He pulled her and pushed his face into her bust. She played with his hair while he showered his love on her breasts.

After a few minutes of that, she stepped back and tantalizingly unbuttoned her blouse. Swami's eyes were glued to her bust. She tugged on her knot that held the ghagra at her waist, and it fell. She confidently removed her blouse and stood buck naked in front of him. This was the first time I saw her naked; she never fully undressed for me, but with Swami, she wanted to show him what a prize he had won. She tantalizingly took those few precious steps and sat in his lap again. It was a mesmerizing sight, as it was the first time I saw her gently droopy, puffed up breasts that looked much larger than I had imagined. Her taut stomach left very little doubt about her athletic abilities, and her shapely figure resembled that of an Apsara (maiden) from heaven.

Swami may have tasted many women, but Mani was special. Despite having delivered one child, she was fresh like a young girl but with the capacity to take on a stallion of Swami's stature. He was delirious, admiring her beauty and latched onto her breasts. Her fair complexion was in stark contrast to his dark skin. After Swami mauled her breasts for about 5 minutes, she separated herself and sat down on the floor and nuzzled his crotch. I couldn't imagine Mani would be so uninhibited in her approach, but she was eager to show her desperation as she mouthed his large python inside his white dhoti.

Mani inhaled the manly odor of his genitals and showed her sheer desperation for his large equipment. Swami spread his legs and let her continue to nuzzle his crotch. She pushed her hand up his thigh until his dhoti made way for his large, semi-flaccid penis. His boxer-style underwear didn't allow free access to his penis. Still, because of its length, he had arranged it to run against his thigh, which provided an entry point for Mani to peek at his penis. She took it into her mouth and suckled on the knob. It was not even erect but looked ominous. He got rid of his dhoti and pushed down his underwear. It shocked me to see his dangling schlong; it was black, amongst a patch of gray hair, but even in that semi-rigid state, it was twice as long as mine and as thick as Mani's wrist.

Mani was less surprised and more enamored with his penis. His penis reached the middle of his thigh, which, considering his height, was nothing short of extraordinary. In fact, I later learned that his size could have been equated to that of black men from porn movies. She held it in her two hands and fed it into her mouth again. She bobbed her head on his penis and started breathing life into it. There was animalistic hunger in her actions as she ignored the fact that it was her first time with him and kept on sucking on his penis. It was too big for her mouth, but she gobbled as much as she could. After she slobbered over his cock for a good 5 minutes, she turned her attention to the large sacs and sucked on them. Swami was lost in pleasant sensations as he looked up at the roof, closed his eyes and just felt her soft tongue. After a few minutes, he proudly lifted his leg and placed it on the cot. It was an explicit invitation to Mani, as she moved in further and sucked his testicles.

From my vantage point, I could clearly see his dangling testicles and her tongue and lips showering her love on them. After a few more minutes, he altered his position and lifted his other leg up, and this time, Mani went under him and licked his testicles from behind. Her nose shoved up into his crack, inhaling the pungent, musky odor of his anus. I knew she had a fascination for anus when I saw how fondly she cleaned up his breeding bull's anus. Not once had she shown such hunger for me, but clearly Swami was in a different league and deserved that special privilege. After a few more minutes, Swami leant forward, offering her his anus, and she pushed her tongue into his dirty hole. It was something that I never imagined but knew Mani wouldn't hesitate to tong his anus if he asked for it, but for her to do it willingly without even asking was quite another.

Mani settled into her position and licked his anus as her hand slowly stroked his cock. After a good 10 minutes, Swami's snake was fully awake and ready to enter her hole.

Mani laid down on the bed and encouraged him to mount her. My heart stopped beating when I realized the sheer size of his penis that she was trying to take in. It was just like her forehand. As he nestled between her legs and aligned his penis at the entrance, I could see that it would easily go past her navel once inside her. Mani held his penis with her dainty hands and rubbed it against the lips of her vagina. As he climbed over her, his penis entered her pussy and I could see Mani part her lips. Her voice was strained, her breath ragged as more and more of his penis sank in.

Mani was in pain or simply shocked, but Swami realized he needed to take it slow. He rocked his butt back and forth; only slightly pushing it in. Mani was readying herself for the fucking she was about to receive. After a couple of minutes of fiddling with it and allowing her to adjust to his girth, he pushed in forcefully and I could see Mani push against him, but that only emboldened him and he forcefully pushed it in. After she tried to stop him in vain, as I heard her whimper, he pushed it all in. There was a loud sloshing sound of her wet pussy as she squirted her juices to make it easier for him. She was cumming. It was only a minute, and I could see the way she threw her head and breathed. Within 5 minutes of her intercourse, Mani had her first climax. I rarely lasted longer than that. She held him for a minute and then eventually let him take her as he wished.

She was ready now for some hard fucking. Swami was ready for it and he started stroking her fully now. She pushed against his pelvis, encouraging him to deeper penetration. She was continuously moaning, and the words were unlike anything I had heard in my almost 2 years of marriage. Her moans may have been the loudest when I would lick her for 15-20 minutes, holding on to her legs and licking her until she violently climaxed, then let her go.

She was loud, and I was afraid that our son might wake up, but I didn't think it would have mattered. Swami was built like a tank, and I could see my bed creaking rhythmically and sinking under his tremendous weight.

She slowed him down by pulling him onto her top. Mani was besotted with him as she kissed him lovingly. Swami was leisurely stroking her, lying fully on top of her and simply rocking back and forth on his pelvis. The tongue play she was having with him made me utterly jealous, but then I chose this fate. Swami spoke to her, and she answered while kissing him. I learned later that he was asking if she was fertile and she said yes.

Swami was furiously sweating and so was Mani. Although it had gotten colder, I could see them wet in their own sweat. The new position brought her into intimate contact with her and also allowed for deeper penetration, while preserving his energy. It required her to take his weight on her body, which she did. Swami fucked her in that position for a good 15 minutes before showing signs of ejaculating. Mani, too, was inching towards her orgasm, and she urged him to fuck her roughly and put her in her place. He needed no encouragement as he stroked her furiously. Loud sounds of their bodies slapping each other could be heard. I could even hear the violent creaking noise of that pathetic bed. After another 3-4 minutes, he ejaculated inside her. Mani hung on to him with all her might as she perfectly timed her climax with his.

He rested on top of her, catching his breath. Mani, too, wiped off her sweat and looked at him.

"You too wanted it, then why make all that fuss?" he asked. She blushed and looked away.

"If you wanted me, all you had to do was mount me. Maybe I will have delivered your child by now," she said, teasing him.

"What's the deal with your husband? Why couldn't he get you pregnant?"

She pushed him away to relieve some of his weight and said, "Not everyone is a breeding bull like you."

He finally got up and said, "So, did you suck on the balls or rim that bull?" Mani blushed and, ignoring him, she wore her ghagra and blouse. Her delicate body had all the red marks because of the abuse she had taken. I was still watching Swami's dangling penis, that glistened with their mixed juices. Indeed, he was worthy of being our village bull. She quickly leaned in front of him and took his spent penis in her mouth. He dressed up and left soon after that.

I waited for a few minutes to ensure that they had left and then entered the room. Mani was fully dressed and was resting on the bed. She turned the lantern off and seemed to have dozed off. When I approached her, she made room for me on the bed and kissed me as soon as I lay next to her. Her breath reeked of semen, but I found it attractive and kissed her back. Her lips and her face still had spots of dried cum, which she rubbed on my lips and made me lick it.

She grabbed my hard penis and squeezed it. "So, you enjoyed watching your wife service the village breeding bull." She held my stiff penis, which perhaps was as stiff as a rod in response to her actions. She offered her tongue for me to suck on. Her breath, stinking of semen, was driving me crazy.

"Did you enjoy it, Mani?" I asked in between the kisses.

"Why did you wait so long? You enjoy the thought of your wife being a slut for him. And he had been yearning to mount ever since I married you."

"Maybe I was embarrassed," I quipped. She patted my cheek and whispered, "There is nothing to be embarrassed about. As far as the village is concerned, the Zamindar took your wife forcefully. I quite like it. My ex-husband was a cuckold too and enjoyed watching me secretly while I fucked the other two men in the house. But I didn't have the same sort of understanding with him as I have with you."

"He was mad at me because I didn't inform him of our marriage," I explained. "I assured him you were not an ordinary woman; a highly educated and Brahmin woman, who didn't know our ways. He didn't want to hear any of it and stormed over to our house. The moment he saw you, something changed, and instead of taking you forcefully, he tried to woo you ever since."

"I know. It should be no surprise why he chose that. And now that you have seen what he is capable of, you know why I approve of him."

I feebly nodded, hearing how confident and assertive she was.

"I am sure you want to smell and taste my ravaged pussy but are ashamed to do it or ask for it," she said. She waited for me to respond, but I stayed silent for a few moments, waiting for her to make a move or say something.

"Or maybe I don't care whether you like it, but you should know what a real man's semen tastes like," she added, and confidently straddled my chest. The powerful stench of semen was clear as soon as she brought her pussy closer to mine. She lifted her saree and brought her pussy close to my face. In the faint light of the lantern, I saw her ravaged pussy. The sight in front of me scared me to death. I could see her sloppy hole and her pussy hair fully matted in semen. Her pussy lips looked tender and loose. She brought her pussy right on top of my nose and lips, and some of the wetness touched my nose. Even as I was repulsed by the idea, I knew that she wanted me to taste it, but I didn't have the courage to lick it.

She let her pussy linger on top of my nose, and the smell of Swami's semen overwhelmed me. "Open up, honey," she said, patting on my cheek. Mani was an entirely different woman; I couldn't believe that she could be so dominant. As I hesitantly pushed out my tongue and probed her pussy, she let out a loud moan. Her body shuddered as she let me trace her pussy lips with my tongue.

She squeezed her vaginal muscles, and a big drop of semen entered my mouth. It was slimy and had a bitter taste to it. I built up courage and pushed my tongue into her pussy folds and was greeted with the intense taste and smell of semen. His equipment seemed to be as potent as how ominous it looked. She slowly lowered her pussy into my mouth, stuffing his substance into my lips, nose, and tongue. I licked and gulped it as fast as I could. Mani was loving it, and after I had cleaned her pussy sufficiently, she started grinding her pussy in my mouth. She grabbed my hair and rode it as if she was fucking me. Mani was very satisfied with her previous episode, so she didn't stay on top of me for much longer and crashed back next to me.

She kissed me, licked my juices off my face, and said, "Glad that you didn't mind licking me in that state."

"What do you make of it?" I asked hesitantly. She sensed my nervousness and, fondling my testicles, said, "That you are agreeing to be subservient to him and that he deserves to mate with me more than you."

She massaged my testicles and pushed her finger to my anus, where she massaged it.

"Did your ex-husband also do it?" I mustered courage. She looked at me for a moment and asked, "What do you think?"

"Even my father-in-law did that. They both did it before mating with me," she said.

"Do you like it?"

"What's not to like?"

"It was clear who could impregnate me. My father-in-law's elder brother started mounting me only 3 days after my delivery. My periods began 3 months after that, and I missed my periods soon after that. If I had not used heat-generating food, I would have had two children. In fact, despite my constant refusal, he impregnated me three times."

"He wondered why I couldn't keep the baby, but I conspired not to have a child since I didn't think there was any future in that relationship."

"I like it when you lick his stuff from the vagina. It convinces me to mate with Swami and reinforces my belief that he deserves to impregnate me."

Mani spoke openly and perhaps didn't mince any words in putting me in my place. I had met a different Mani, who was much bolder and knew what she wanted. We slept soon after that, and as usual, she left me high and dry. I tossed and turned, and then once again I woke her up early in the morning and ate her. Mani allowed me to eat her for a good half-hour and once again did nothing to relieve me.

The next whole day passed similarly. Mani didn't allow me to kiss her, but she allowed me to hug her, fondle her privates, and even lick her out, but nothing more than that.

"I am Swami's woman," she teased. "You are only allowed to smell and taste me; nothing more. If you stay subservient and guard his woman, then perhaps you may enjoy some of her fruits."

She took pity and jerked me off in the shed that afternoon. She made me stand on my fours, while she grabbed my penis from behind and jerked me off. It was very similar to what she did to our male dogs. Sometimes, they get too edgy and need relief, and this is how she relieved them. When Mani did it the first time, I was shaken, but then it wasn't such an alien concept. A lot of women did that in our neighborhood--taking the edge off.

"Mani you said you avoided getting pregnant from him?" I asked. "Was it because you didn't want to get pregnant?"

Mani was worked up and said, "You think so? I licked his asshole every single day for a good 15-20 minutes. I seduced him every single night by myself, to the chagrin of my husband and father-in-law, and made sure he mounted me."

"But then why did you avoid those pregnancies?"

"Fantasy is one thing, but reality is quite another. I had made peace with my fate and enjoyed that debauched life, but I wasn't willing to get sucked into it."

"When did you like Swami?"

"I don't like him," she scoffed. "But knew that, as the village breeding bull, he would mount me eventually. It was only a question of whether I wanted to be his slut. Physically, he is well equipped to warrant my attention, so I obliged him."

That afternoon, two new beds arrived in our home. They were sent by the Zamindar. After that one episode with her, he knew how difficult those small cots were. That evening, I took our son to sleep on the farm on the pretext of taking care of it so that they both had privacy. It was straightforward as I left with our son, along with him, but of course, he turned back and headed to sleep with Mani.

I tossed and turned at the farm, and after making sure he was asleep, I rushed back to our house. A good hour had passed, and they had perhaps just finished their first round as I saw her laying naked in his arms. I was enjoying the pleasant sight when I accidentally bumped into the water vessel at the entrance.

"Yadurappa, Is that you?" He called out in his deep voice.

"Yes Swami," I responded without thinking. "Come in," he commanded.

I hesitantly entered the room. Mani used a comforter to cover herself and him. She avoided looking at me, but I could see her glowing face that had satisfaction written all over it and all the redness that indicated some sort of embarrassment or guilt. I saw Swami's penis that had fully shrunk but was still big compared to my tiny weenie.

In a stark contrast to his usual demeanor, he said, "Thank you, Yadurappa, for sharing your wife."

"She is my woman now. She can be your wife, but that's just for convenience. Your job is to take care of her and protect her. I shall take care of the rest."

"You understand?" he hollered.

"Yes Swami."

"Now come here and pleasure her with your tongue," he said. I hesitantly stepped towards the new bed. She looked at him nervously as he offered a pillow to put under her butt. She looked at me cursorily as she shoved it under her butt while holding onto the comforter dearly. She bent her knees and spread her legs in anticipation as I picked up the edge of the comforter and slid under it.

The unmistakable odor of his semen hit me as I inched towards the entrance. Since I couldn't see it but only smell it, I realized it was fresh like rain. Perhaps they had separated only a few minutes ago, and the redness on her face was not from embarrassment but from the actual episode itself. I pushed my tongue into her filthy hole, and she moaned and pushed her pussy against my mouth while grabbing my hair. After a couple of minutes of licking, Mani couldn't take it any more and straddled my face instead. My cover was blown, and I could see Swami curiously staring at me while cleaning up his mess. On top, I could see her very large breasts looming above my head. I was as mesmerized by her breasts as I was by her slippery pussy. It was surreal.

After I cleaned her up completely and Mani had orgasmed, Swami asked, "Did you know your wife was a complete slut?"

Mani ignored him and turned to kiss him. It was shocking to see her behave that way right in front of me. She fondled his large appendage and continued to kiss with fervor.

"It's okay to stroke yourself, Yadurappa," he said. I massaged my bulge and got behind her and started licking her butt again. She voraciously kissed him, completely ignoring my presence. After a few minutes, he got up and settled on his fours. Mani knew what he wanted and tongued his anus and licked his testicles. "Yadurappa, help me get it up for your wife," he said. I didn't understand, so Mani led my hands to his appendage and showed me how to stroke it.

To say that I was humiliated was an understatement. Not only because I was asked to fondle his penis to make him erect, but also because I realized how large he was. If I imagined myself and Mani as donkeys, then Swami's penis was that of a Stallion's. Even if I was Mani's age, I couldn't have competed with him on any plane--whether it be physical or mental. On every plane, Mani would have opted to breed with him. His large sacs were the size of big lemons, which Mani sucked and made love to eagerly. I could see the clear contrast between his dark skin and Mani's fair skin.

Mani looked at me a few times while licking his anus and then swiftly pulled me for a kiss. She licked his anus and kissed me a couple of more times. His penis was hard as a rock now. She whispered to me, "Maybe now you understand why he can breed every woman in the village."

"Suck on my tongue," she whispered. I obliged her.

"Yadurappa, leave now," he said. "There is no free show going on. If you wait any longer, I will make you lick my cock and fuck you to show your place."

I was shocked and didn't wait much longer as I receded. Mani bolted the door this time and also turned down the lantern, so it was relatively darker for me to even peep inside, if I decided to.

"Maybe my dog can also mount you just the way he mounted your wife," he said as Mani closed the door. Mani's face was flushed when he said that. I was shocked to learn that she only closed the door. My head was spinning as I headed back to our farm. I couldn't believe that something like that could happen.

The next morning, Mani was already ready when we returned from the farm. We freshened up, and after our son stepped out for his usual activities, I accosted her. She kissed me immediately and offered her tongue to suck. After some kissing, I asked, "Mani, is it true that you mated with Swami's dog?"

"What? No," she replied. "He was only saying that to get a rise out of you."

That day, she gave me a nice bath, sucked on my dick while washing me, and finally stroked me to ejaculation. I thought Swami wasn't planning to visit her tonight, and hence she was showering her love on me. However, he showed up at the usual time.

This repeated for a few weeks, with Swami visiting us 4-5 nights a week, except for the Diwali nights, when he only briefly visited and left soon after having sex with her. On most nights, he would spend at least a couple of hours with her and mount her twice. When her periods didn't arrive as expected, we both knew that she was pregnant.

After she was confident that she would carry the child to full-term, she let me mount her, and it was no surprise that I didn't last even 5 minutes inside her pussy. Her pussy was loose, something that I had never experienced before. It didn't help that I mounted soon after he left after having sex with her. "Don't worry. It's normal for you to not feel me." She assured me that he was the largest man she ever had.

"I don't expect a lot from your dick anyhow," she added.

Mani really enjoyed sex with him and would spend a few hours with him during his visits, and despite his age, he would fuck her a couple of times. Somewhere in the 5th or 6th month of her pregnancy, he started fucking her anally. It was painful at first, but she got used to it pretty quickly. Swami was besotted with Mani and visited her several times a week. It didn't take long for the word to spread, and soon the village learned that Swami took the most beautiful woman from the village as his mistress. No one dared speak of it, but it was clear then that everyone knew about it or speculated about it. Those were the days when it was easy for anyone to get killed for spreading such rumors, so everyone just kept their mouths shut.

Swami's hunger knew no bounds as he kept on impregnating her. In the next 6 years, she would deliver 3 children to him. She persuaded him to keep a distance between the kids after she delivered our second son, his first child, but he was adamant and kept on pushing, and she ended up getting pregnant within a year after she delivered our second son. Our third one turned out to be a boy as well, and after that, she became pregnant within six months and delivered our first daughter. She became pregnant quickly again, but because of her ill health, she couldn't keep them.

After the first year of denying me sex, she ignored Swami's rules, except for the rule of making me taste her pussy after she had sex with him. She loved my tongue and made sure that she frequently got pleasure from it.

One may think, she was a sex maniac, but she was rather an astute woman and made sure that Swami financially supported his children. Instead of relying on inheritance after his death, she insisted on transferring significant wealth as time passed. It was significant for us but insignificant for him. She didn't consume it all and invested using her knowledge in various businesses and ensured that we became rather affluent in a matter of a decade.

Mani told me but very late in our lives that she had only two options: become his mistress or live the life we were living. Swami wanted to take her as his mistress, which meant killing me, but Mani persuaded him and saved my life. In those days, it was very easy for a powerful man like him to get anyone killed. Fortunately, after enduring all the things she endured, Mani was able to secure the future of our family financially. It seemed like a high price to pay, but there didn't seem to be another option.

Mani immensely enjoyed her episodes with him, and the intensity of those episodes lasted another 5 years, after which both the frequency and intensity dwindled. Soon after our daughter was born, he became seriously ill and died the following year. It was shocking to see him die so suddenly, but at least he got all the pleasures he deserved in his life through my wife. Swami's elder son took an interest in her and filled Swami's shoes. He was like Swami but had a lot more energy and knocked her up immediately. At 38, she delivered our youngest son. After that, nature took away her privilege to get pregnant as she had been overbred. Sexually, she remained active for another decade, but it didn't remain the dominant theme of her life anymore.

It may seem strange, but I wouldn't have changed anything in my life if I had the choice to. Mani truly deserved someone like Swami to take care of her physical needs. At least sexually, she was a very satisfied woman. And looking back, it seems we have built a much more secure foundation for our family. Our elder son turned out to be an intellectual and became an IAS officer, but our younger children were not as bright, maybe because they had Swami's genes. They were all strapping boys, over 6 feet tall, with the physique of Swami but the looks of Mani and a whitish complexion.

This was my story, which I shared with my son as a background so that he understood his plight as a cuckold. Unlike me, he was cuckolded at a very young age, and it was important for him to understand that his cuckold tendencies were not as abnormal as it seemed at the outset. There are men to marry and there are men from whom women prefer to get pregnant. It is not something new. It has been happening for ages, but it is something that has always been swept under the rug.