Disclaimer: This story has a cuckolding theme
Recap: I am an engineer and settled in Bangalore with my beloved wife, Rashmi. I have always been a closet cuckold but never openly talked about it with my wife. My wife is a natural Bengali beauty with fair skin and big, beautiful eyes. She is thick in the right places and sexually charged. I am a typical timid Bengali man who has erectile dysfunction. Rashmi was getting a bit frustrated in our sexless marriage. Things took a drastic turn when Adnan entered our life as our driver. My wife started having an affair with him openly in front of me, and my dream became a reality. Though I had a different imagination about cuckolding, the reality was much different. Adnan was a sadist, and he loved to degrade other races and religions. He manipulated my wife and became a dominant bull. As a Bengali couple, Durga puja was a big festival for us; this year, Adnan fucked my wife before doing the puja and made her go out for puja wearing a bra underneath her saree.
There was a massive crowd in the puja pandal. It was awkward to see my wife getting intentional and unintentional touches, especially when her upper body was almost exposed. It was hard to identify who was touching whom. I saw young men touching Rashmi inappropriately. The worst part was that Rashmi enjoyed it and didn't try to avoid such touches; instead, she encouraged them. That mob almost molested her. Some touched her boobs, and some ran their hands on her curves and hips.
We somehow finished our puja, which took around two hours. I had no idea how many men touched Rashmi in those two hours. Her face was glowing, and she had a constant smile. She enjoyed the physical attention the crowd had given her.
I started the car, and Rashmi sat inside. One guy came running towards our car.
"Ma'am, can I follow you on Instagram?" -- He asked.
I knew Rashmi had an old Instagram account, but she was never active on it. To my surprise, she smiled at him and gave him her Instagram account ID. He thanked her and left.
"What do you have on your mind?" -- I asked Rashmi while driving the car.
"Nothing much. I think you know what happened there." Rashmi teased me.
"What do you mean?"
"Ah, don't act, Adi; I know you saw everything and probably enjoyed it. You are my obedient cuck hubby, aren't you?"
I felt hardness in my dick. She opened her pallu (a part of a saree to cover her breasts) a little more; her boobs were visible clearly, to me and others on the road.
I asked her what she was trying to do. She just laughed and pulled her bra down a little. I wasn't ready for it. Her innocent smile made her look like an angel.
"I know you know, but you still want to hear from me. Anyway, I loved what happened there. I think it's fun to tease people a little and see their reaction. Did you see, they went crazy seeing me." -- Rashmi excitedly said.
"How?" -- I was confused.
"Insta" -- She responded.
I understood what she meant now. It could be a game changer for our lifestyle. It was almost like having bulls without having them. I was concerned about Adnan, but again, he loved to exhibit her in front of delivery boys.
We headed home and picked up Adnan, as we planned to eat out. Rashmi wore a black off-shoulder mini dress without inners, as Adnan instructed. She recently got a tattoo on her nape. It was a chakra tattoo with "Adnan" written in fine detail.
Adnan loved to expose her tattoo on every possible occasion. Generally, for office and other formal places, Rashmi hid it with her hair; otherwise, she kept it open. As per him, this tattoo was a reminder for me of being a cuckold.
Today, the role had flipped; I was driving the car, and Adnan was sitting intimately with my wife in the backseat. I was cautious inside the apartment complex, but the society's main gate security guard caught us in that set-up. He looked confused as Rashmi was sitting too close to Adnan while I was in the driver's seat. He knew both of us. I knew that we fucked up, and this would be a talking point among the security folks.
I was planning to cover this up in my head when Adnan asked me not to worry too much about it as he expressed his next wish.
"I want my baby inside your wife's womb, cucky." -- Adnan told us calmly.
He started to call me "cucky" even in public. I looked at Rashmi; she was equally confused, but Rashmi spoke first.
"Adnan, I want to think about it for some more time." -- Rashmi responded.
"Why? What is there to think? Don't you want a strong kid who would grow up to be like me, unlike your weak Hindu cuck husband who can't even fuck his wife?" -- every word of Adnan pierced my heart.
