This story is part fiction, part real. The characters in the story are people from real life and most of the circumstances and surroundings are very much real. As usual, there is some amount of exaggeration and spice added to make it more appealing to the reader.
Just like my other stories, please be warned that the story contains very strong cuckoldry elements. It revolves around the beauty and beast theme and borrows heavily from mating behaviors and patterns of animal kingdom.
If this is not your thing, please stop offending yourself and move on.
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Chapter 1 - Introductions
This is the story of my beautiful wife - who is no less than a queen to me - and my life with her . We hail from an upper middle class family and have lived for most of our lives in the surrounding areas of Mumbai but not exactly in the city. It has helped us stay connected with the fast moving things in life but at the same time offered us solitude and privacy of the distance from the hustle bustle of a city life. We own a small business that has been doing reasonably well for past several decades, which now I have been managing for the past two decades.
Nishma, my wife is about forty-seven years old. My name is Adwait and I am five years elder to Nishma. We belong to a traditional Brahmin family - more specifically we belong to the Kokanastha caste, which is named after the coastal region of Konkan in Maharashtra, a state of India. It's a fairly conservative community, in which inter caste marriages are still frowned upon but relationships between Brahmin castes are tolerated. Where we come from, it is still considered to be a social stigma and it was particularly so when we got married about 25 years ago. We recently celebrated our twenty-fifth marriage anniversary.
Women from this caste are incredibly beautiful. They are gifted with much fairer complexion and most actually have green or blue eyes. These characteristics make them look more caucasian than Indians. However, most have dark-brown or brown hair, which gives away their nationality. It is rumored often that the aboriginals mated with Portuguese and French people who arrived on the Konkan coast of India about five centuries back. There is no historical account of such things but it is not unreasonable to assume that some form of mixing must have happened due to which these traits were inherited or became more pronounced.
Nishma was no exception in this regard. Although she didn't carry that specific genetic mutation, she was quintessential Indian beauty. Her big, dark eyes left a lasting impression on everyone she met. Her soft, blemishless skin with a sharp nose and beautiful features attracted men. Her pouty, pinkish red lips never failed to elicit a sexual groan from them. Her jet black, thick hair was so silky that even women envied her fortune. She never failed to capture interest of the people around her. Her complexion was perhaps a shade or two darker than the normal pale complexion that we believed to be the gold standard in our community. Yet, this only accentuated her beauty. It was quite common for my friends to be mesmerized by her beauty and they unabashedly congratulated me on my good fortune.
On the physical front, Nishma stood about 5' 7", a little above average for our times. Although, she isn't very tall by current Indian standards, she was deemed to be so in our times. Due to her shapely, slender body, she was the favorite amongst the men, much to the dismay of the women, who rather chose to ignore her for her apparently darker complexion.
I wasn't a perfect match for her in that regard as well; I was couple of inches shorter than her. It never bothered her but my insecurity always kept nagging at me. Nishma's utterly feminine, slender body always captured the interest of men around her. Although, physically her body was quite slender, her breasts and butt were well developed for her age and built; no wonder the men folks were always captivated by her beauty. Over the years she had gone from being too frail to a little plump but has eventually settled into the perfect mold for past decade or so. She easily fits the MILF description today. She continues to attract attention of men even at this age; incidentally even the young lads are mesmerized by her beauty. Her bust size has increased over the years and so as her butt. She breastfed all our kids and hence her breasts have lost some elasticity but a supporting brassiere allows her to flaunt them. Her tummy only shows the scars of bearing many children but it doesn't have an ounce of extra fat. She can fit into most of her clothes she wore during her twenties but most would struggle to contain her breasts and her butt.
On the dressing front, Nishma is conservatively dressed most of the time. She hasn't worn pants for more than a decade. Nowadays she restricts herself to a Salwar-Kameez or a simple Saree. Both of them look splendid on her and usually highlight her beautiful features. She ties her hair in a braid most of the time. With Sarees, she chooses to tie her hair behind her head as most Indian women do.
Our's was a traditionally arranged marriage. We both came from reasonably affluent families and it was commonly held belief to keep status on equal footing in such relationships. I was obviously smitten by her beauty. Little did I realize that she was also a sweet girl with a soft voice. Nishma didn't take too long to make up her mind. A little bit of digging was in order. We learned that Nishma was little modern for our taste and had several friends who happened to be boys. I too had friends who were girls, so it didn't strike odd but when the investigator chose to speak to me personally, I learned not everything was normal. I chose to hide it from my parents and made sure that he didn't divulge the details to anyone else. Not wanting to nip this relationship in the bud, I took the initiative and broached up the subject with her. She looked relieved. We were alone but didn't have adequate privacy and she hushed me and offered to talk about it at a more appropriate time.
We met alone a few days later without the knowledge of our parents.
"Thanks for not hesitating," she started.
"It wasn't my intention to hide it - but you know how parent's are?"
"Your investigations may not have revealed many sinister things but let me be honest with you."
"I am not a virgin anymore," she added gathering some courage.
It wasn't common those days for a woman to lose her virginity before marriage. And certainly, it wasn't common for someone to confess in front of their prospective husband.
"You mean to say you were in love?"
I asked, "what happened?"
"Not quite," she responded.
"I didn't have any emotional attachment - it just happened."
"Did someone take advantage of you?" I asked.
"Sort of," she responded, "but it wouldn't be right to blame them."
"Them?"
"You see," she said, tears welling in her eyes, "I am not comfortable talking about it."
"Nishma," I tried consoling her, "my apologies - my intention was only to learn the circumstances."
"We often commit mistakes at an young age without realizing the far reaching consequences," she added, remorsing over her past, but more importantly owning up her mistakes rather than simply blaming an outside influence.
"It's all history now, I suppose," I added tentatively. She nodded, trying to contain her tears.
"I like you," she said holding my hand, "but I would understand if this were to change your mind."
I thought for a few moments before saying, "it is certainly an unpleasant surprise - but I don't want to take a hasty decision."
"There's is more," she continued, trying to contain her emotions, "while I had no emotional attachment - there was plenty of sex."
I nervously nodded, encouraging her to continue.
"There were five men with whom I have been intimate," she added.
