Indian Wife And Construction Guys Ch 06 1

"Sameer, will you eat faster for god's sake?"

I beseeched my 12 year old son, who had already woken up late and missed his usual ride to school with his college going brother Apu. I was packing his school lunch box.

The kid barely moved and kept staring at the TV. He never listened to me!

"Sameer if you get another late mark, I swear you will not see a screen until you're 40 and I will..."

BINGBONG!

Went the bell. I waited a few seconds.

"Sameer, will you at least go get the door?"

The chair finally moved and he walked to the door. I assumed it was some Amazon delivery.

"Mom! Someone here for you!" he called out.

I wondered who it could be. Wiping my hands, I walked to the front door. And I stopped in my tracks halfway. And my mouth went dry.

Standing in the door, right next to Sameer, was Sajid.

Yes, THAT Sajid. A lot more white in his lot thinner hair and visibly aged. But him! Still standing upright in that cocky way. Still oozing that labor masculinity.

Both my heart and my pussy pulsated.

Sajid stared at me for a second. Then at Sameer for two seconds. I was sure I knew what Sajid was thinking.

And then he just turned around and walked away.

"Who was that?" Sameer closed the door and asked.

"I don't know."

It was my first real lie in years.

I am generally not a liar. I was always honest to a fault. Except for my Sajid phase. I found myself lying so much for him to others! And to him for others. My only defense for these lies was that they were all meant to protect feelings and futures.

I had left without telling him. Without telling him that I was carrying his baby. Was he back because he was angry at that betrayal? Should I call Tarun?

BEEPBEEPBEEP!!!

It was the neighbor who had graciously offered to drop Sameer to school.

"Go!" I said my younger son.

"But I still haven't finished my..."

"Go!! Now!!" I put the lunch box in his hand and pretty much pushed him out of the door.

I closed the door and leaned against it. I heard the car drive away.

I waited, my heart racing.

Two minutes passed. And the bell rang again. I opened the door.

It was him again.

"I thought you would be alone. The boys generally leave before this."

He said flatly and walked in, as if we had never lost touch. The comment indicated he had been watching me for a few days. But he probably didn't even think about how that would make me feel. There was never any guile with the guy.

From the beginning, he had acted in a very nonchalant way about having a hold over me. Though that was probably central to his raw appeal for me. A man several pegs below me in the social order treating me like a plaything got me aroused like nothing else.

"Sajid...."

I had no idea what to say or feel. No, that's not true. I felt extremely horny. My eye went to his crotch. He noticed. He had been staring at my butt anyway, which I found myself jutting back a bit. As I often did around him.

"Memsaab, bend over."

Just that old command, after a dozen years, made me almost cum right there. Many days, those were the only words he said to me all day. Most of our relationship was just moans and grunts and orgasmic hollers.

From the moment I had seen him standing at the door next to his biological son, I had known we were going to fuck again. No point in chit chat with him. No point in asking where he came from, how he found me all these years later, or anything. Until he was done fucking me at least once, there would be no real conversation.

I slid my sweatpants down stepping out of them, walked to the couch, and bent over with my elbows on the arm rest. Like he liked to start. He came and landed that usual first spank hard. On my butt right on the tattoo that marked me forever as his.

"Your ass has swelled a bit. What are you now? 40?"

"Mmmmm.....oh fuck!" I moaned as the thick rod was shoved in with the same familiarity as before, without any foreplay. "Forty five...oooh!"

"You don't look it."

This was as much of a compliment as I had gotten from him after he had successfully bedded me. There had never been any tenderness or romance in our relationship. Nor in any of his marriages. All he saw his women as were bodies to be ravished whenever he liked.

And yet that's what attracted us to him. Strange how the female mind can work. Selective submission.

I felt the rod spear my cunt all the way till it hit bottom.

I had taken bigger men than Sajid since our stormy tryst. But none filled me up in that satisfying way. That ultimate surge of dopamine that I got from no one or nothing else in my life.

Suddenly, I was in that strange head space again. Where all I wanted was Sajid inside me, just pounding me like a jackhammer until my vision went blurry, for hours. That high tide of orgasms he always took me through. I had not experienced it for a dozen years, for the sake of family. Mine and his.

I had slept with a few other men since, with my husband's knowledge. But no one had ever come close to Sajid in making my pussy cream at a finger snap. He was obnoxious, selfish, sociopathic, ugly, old, poor, and boorish. And yet here I was, a middle aged mother of two, getting banged in her living room by this construction worker. Even his sweat smell got my engine running. I had run away from him, sort of, because I could not control myself.

He slid a hand up my t-shirt as he started pounding me deep like I loved. Spearing my insides with his angry thickness. His dick always felt so angry! In a good way.

"That's my boy, right?" he grabbed my hair and pulled my ear close to his lip between strokes. His beard rubbed my soft cheek as his pubes touched my ass cheek.

"Hmm....oh right there!" I did not really want to talk about children in this mood, though that's how the were created.

He suddenly gripped my waist and unleashed a long bout of hard pistoning that made my knees buckle. He put both hands on my boobs under my t-shirt and over my bra and held me in place.

"Oh Saj...oh yes...MMM...oh I..."

"Let me in fully."

He put his foot on my head and started drilling me incredibly fast, making my boobs mash against the bed.

I started howling in pleasure as every deep stroke made my pleasure multiply. Oh how I had missed this feeling!

I could feel an orgasm approach. And he sensed it too cos his grip on my naked waist tightened and his foot pressed my face harder. The slapping sounds got as loud as my moans. And he pounded me through to a loud loud big one! I let loose and shrieked, hoping no neighbors came running.

Oh how I had longed for that feeling! I grabbed on to the couch fabric right as I came hard. At that level of intensity. After over a decade. I kept shivering and moaning for a while, as he just kept going. Waves of pleasure went from my pussy to my head. I felt a satisfaction I hadn't felt in years and he'd barely walked ten feet into the house.

Sajid withdrew from my pulsating cunt and stood back with his knuckles on his waist. I knew what I was supposed to do next. When he gifted me an orgasm, I had to thank him with my mouth. I squatted in front of him and opened my mouth.

Soon I was flailing and struggling to maintain balance as the father of my second son brutally face fucked me. Holding on to his hairy thighs gave me support as the thick head went down my throat like it used to. And his white pubic hair filled my nose.

What a perverse sight I made in the wall mirror. Otherwise a respectable middle aged housewife, active in the social scene, model citizen, but now flailing with my big butt hanging over the floor as this old laborer rammed my throat.

"I did not come hunting you by the way. After you disappeared, I moved on. Zahra told me years later I had knocked you up. I didn't care. But last week, I was visiting Delhi for some work. And I saw you on the street from a bus. I got off the bus and followed you here."

My eyes wide and mouth stuffed, I listened and felt a bit relieved. A chance encounter was better than him having stalked and found me.

The face fucking went on hard, making me gag and wheeze in the most unladylike like ways. Sajid loved treating all his women like whores but something extra came out against me. Maybe because I could handle it so well. As his wives had noted, no one could take his sexual ferocity like I could. I don't know why being the most prolific slut in a laborer's harem felt like a badge of honor.

"How many times a week do you get fucked?"

He let my face go.

"Three to four." I truthfully replied.

I was catching my breath when he pulled me with him to the couch and sat us both down on it. His hectic fucking pace had not slowed with old age. He was still no close to cumming. He took off my t-shirt and pulled my tits out of the bra. He then pulled me on top.

Even now, he would not get me fully naked. The bra, paid for by my husband, was a kinky reminder that I was someone else's woman. He did put his fingers inside the bra though, rendering it just a prop rather than a garment.

My insides convulsed with pleasure as my body weight and my thick ass made the spearing of his dick extra hard and deep.

"Oh Sajid, I've missed this." I said in a high pitched voice, rolling my hips.

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, grabbing one breast and squeezing it hard. I bit into his shoulder.

"Your cunt is still the best I've ever had, memsaab"

He said as I started riding him. First back and forth, then side to side, feeling his thick knob probe all my walls. I'll leaned forward a bit such that his pubes rubbed against my clit. I was covered in goosebumps.

"Did you ever fuck Rasul behind my back?"

"Nooooo... Mpf!" I felt another orgasm approach.

"Be honest. I won't get upset. Did you?"

"Nooooo." It's not like I didn't want to. The guy had never put his dick in anything but my mouth.

"Would you like to? He lives nearby. We can both bang you together this time."

Just the thought of a threesome with my original two lovers was enough to take me to the edge. I knew my husband would find it kinky too. It was just about managing logistics discreetly.

I buried my face in his shoulder and started riding him hard, dropping audibly on his lap. Here I was, a middle aged mother of two, bouncing on this laborer's dick in my own house and feeling more alive than in ages. He loved when I fucked him like this. I could feel it in his thrusts.

I tried my best to postpone this orgasm and prolong this feeling. But as always, his raw power was too much for me and soon I was a drooling mess shaking through another series of hollers. And I slumped in his arms.

He dragged me to the bedroom, laid me down on the bed with my head hanging over the edge. And the face fucking started again. His balls slapping on my eyes. His speared fingers were fucking my cunt. Hard and deep, the fingers gave me another orgasm as my ass bounced all over the bed.

He really treated me like a personal toy!

After a few minutes, he made me get on all fours again. And the pounding started again. I proudly arched my back and took it. It went on and on and on for a long time, punctuated by my orgasms and face fucking.

I went from resting my weight on my palms to my forearms till eventually I was down on my shoulders, ass hanging high as he rammed my cunt hard for such a long time, I lost track.

After my seventh or eighth orgasm, when he face fucked me, I could feel the familiar throbbing.

Finally he emptied his jizz in my mouth after what must have been an hour.

"Don't want to knock you up again." he chuckled.

I swallowed and smiled. I felt a warm happy glow in every molecule of my body that I got only with him. I savored the unexpected surprise.

He slapped my face lightly, and slid between my legs. I tried to push him away. I wasn't that young anymore and felt like I needed a breather.

"No Sajid, give me a little time until... Ohh!!! Mm mm!!"

When had he ever listened to my no's after fucking me the first time? Every No until the first time we fucked, he obeyed. But after that, my No's were pointless. It's not like he physically forced me. He just ignored my No's. And I eventually just complied.

Oh fuck fuck fuck, I thought as his tongue lashed my clit, this is exactly why I had sort of run away. How I lost any control with him.

This was a man who had brazenly walked into my house and made a pass at me like I was a street tart instead of a respectable housewife. And stripped away any urbane veneer I had along with my clothes. And fucked me with an entitlement even my husband didn't show.

Soon my fingers were on his almost bald head, which was between my thighs, lapping my clit and making me cum every few minutes.

Ten minutes later, he slid up. Kissed me roughly as he entered me again in one stroke. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him in. None of my other lovers got ready for round two this fast.

His eyes locked into mine as our rutting commenced again. I hugged him and gave myself to him like I never gave myself to anyone else.

"How many men have you slept with since I last saw you?"

He asked me between strokes. My joy hazy brain did the count."

"Eight."

"Slut." He snickered and put my ankles on his shoulder.

Soon my ass bearing his name tattoo was hanging in the air as he kept fucking me in rapid strokes, without any sign of tiring.

I came about ten minutes into this pounding feeling stretched inside and out and found myself 69ing with him after that. Him on top, fucking my mouth at his tongue lapped my pussy. The roughness with which his old wrinkly body thrust itself against and into my still young tight middle aged body again brought to my mind the sheer deranged perversion of our coupling.

Here I was, voluntarily being treated like a sex object by this random man that most people couldn't pick out of a lineup. And I was turned on by it. Adding this ready submission to a long list of unlikely things I had done at his wish.

The man had turned a reluctantly allowed entry into my house for a phone call into an intriguing sexual overture that found me at just the right time. At my sexual peak.

He had gone from brushing up against me to groping me to fingering me to going down on me to fucking me with a speed I would not have expected myself. I tried to resist at every stage. But he overcame any resistance easily. The way no other man, before or after, has been able to.

"Can you still do the paratha or are your bones too old?"

I took his dick out of mouth and giggled a little. The paratha! A name he came up with for a sexual position we both enjoyed. But it always made me feel like a slut a bit extra. No one had tried it on me in a dozen years.

He took my giggle to correctly mean my approval.

His hands grabbed my ankles and folded my body in half until my toes were in my hair. My lower back felt the pressure. My cunt was open and exposed.

He then folded my body again, hence the paratha name, bending my knees and raising my back until my cunt and asshole were hanging high above the bed.

Then he faced away from me and mounted me, driving his thick dick deep inside as my knees pressed my boobs.

This orgasm was short but intense.

He rutted me like this for another ten minutes before face fucking me again.

"Sajid... I'm not 32 anymore." I pleaded, my thighs truly exhausted.

"On your tits."

I dutifully got in position in front of him, pressing my boobs together. He sprayed jizz all over them. And then sat back on the bed.

I ran to the bathroom, needing to pee real bad and also wanting to clean up. While in there, I looked in the mirror and took stock of the situation.

I needed to call my husband and tell him what had happened. But later. I knew Sajid would want another go at my cunt in ten minutes.

So when I stepped out of the bathroom, I was surprised to see Sajid fully dressed and scrolling through a phone. I guess he was also not in his mid 50s anymore.

"I need to go for some work." he said. "I'll be back with Rasul."

"Today?"

"Not today." He said walking to the door.

I followed him dumbly naked except for my bra and wondered what to say in response.

"Some day." He said and landed a loud spank on my ass as he always did before leaving, right on the tattoo.