From an idea from Dalhia57
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Kira had boarded the high speed train in Metz at 06:49. She was on the way to Paris as she did about every two months. She had kissed her French husband goodbye and left hurriedly. As usual, she had attracted widespread attention from the other travelers, as she was wearing a saree in Metz' monumental station. She was resting in a cozy compartment. The duration of the trip, one hour and twenty minutes for about three hundred kilometers (little short of two hundred miles) was a happy transition.
The previous day, she had had a garden party in her house with friends. She had been wearing a simple tank top and a denim miniskirt with platform sandals and she had been chatting with her French friends of long. She had been again Khyrah, the wife of Dan F..., a scientist as she had been before they had met prince Kyrhan in India. Since that encounter, she had been also, under the faked identity of Kira Chowdhury, the Indian wife of Prince Kyrhan Singh.
Her indomitable energy and devotion to her new husband had made her a perfect assistant and counselor to him. She had especially managed the restoration of his derelict family castle and transformation into a luxury hotel. Kyrhan had proved a very demanding husband and he had steadfastly pushed her to adopt Indian customs such as wearing this saree, turning veggie, making offerings to Indian gods. She had also submitted to Kyrhan's permanent erotic wishes. Her Indian husband wasn't selfish : he had allowed her to commute to France, about one month on two. When she was here, she was an ordinary French woman, wearing most of the time French style garments except when Kyrhan was coming to visit his friend Dan.
Life was somewhat strange : when she traveled from New Delhi to Paris or back with Kyrhan, the first class cabin was usually empty and Kyrhan considered it very exciting to fuck her on her seat, in the lobby or in the plane toilets with the risk of being caught by an air stewardess. But when she was alone, they were usually several other Indian women, usually wives of Indian expatriates living in Paris, Brussels, Luxembourg or in cities around. As Kyrhan always accompanied his wife to the airport, Kira was always wearing a saree. Her success in the management of the hotel and her important social and charity activities in India had made her quite a celebrity. She often appeared on India news and recently in a chat on BBC channel.
Several of the women she met on the planes had asked for autographs. They had exchanged phone numbers and had chatted, even when she was in France. They had decided to meet in Paris every two months when Kira was in France for a kitty party where they could chat together without the boring presence of men. There would be Indian pastries and fruits, and often, Kira came back with a DVD of the latest Bollywood film that was presented to the delighted crowd.
Kira needed that moment to switch roles from Khyrah F to Maharani Kira Singh, the organizer of the event who would preside on the day and be the confident of all the girls who had problems with their jobs, children or husbands. She would try to help them as she could. She had proved shrewd, helpful, caring and discreet. Now most of them spoke to her as if she was their mother or sister...
Kira had chosen to organize her kitty party in a Paris cabaret in "Saint Germain des prés". There was a large hall where group activities could be organized and where girls could exchange some small talk between girls. There were also small booths where confidential chats could be organized. At eleven AM, after a fast shopping walk, Kira arrived at the cabinet and prepared herself for the arrival of her friends.
As usual, Bijal was the first one to arrive. They kissed on the cheeks and hugged one another. Bijal was wearing a brown kameez with black baggy salwars and a green dupatta. That girl had never managed to wear sexy clothes. She had a boyish appearance with an impish smile that was her best asset. She was single, working at the Indian consulate.
- Hello, Kira! How are you doing? Great, it seems! Being loved by someone as splendid as Prince Kyrhan must be a fantastic experience for a woman! But,... let me watch you more closely! Tell me, Am I wrong? I would bet you're again pregnant, my dear!
- You are right, Bijal! Too many hugs in our bedroom!
- Oh congratulations, Kira. When are you expecting delivery?
- In May or June!
- That late! From the bulge in your belly, I would have bet you were already in your fifth month. Don't tell me you are expecting twins again!
- I never offered Kyrhan anything but twins! It must be his potent seed!
- Oh sure! I would love to have such a beautiful stud as my husband!
- Sorry, dear! This one is already claimed! Look for another one!
A new girl interrupted their chitchat : it was Smita who was an Indian fashion addict. She was wearing also a kameez with psychedelic pattern in the sixties fashion and bangles that nearly covered her left forearm.
- Morning, Kira! You're superb! Where did you find this magnificent saree?
- It's a gift from Kyrhan, straight from New Delhi! Do you like the embroideries?
- Kira! You are joking! I would kill to have the same!
- No need to go to such extremities. Just visit my husband. He must feel sad alone in India! If you entertain him, he may offer you a similar one!
- Don't tell me Kyrhan is cheating on you while you're in France! I wouldn't believe it!
- I didn't tell you anything of this kind. Just Kyrhan only knows where he had bought that saree and it's the only way I've found to have him reveal his secrets.
- Even state secrets?
- I didn't try to obtain such things with simple pillow talk but I've been told that most men babble too much with their lover!
The other girls arrived in a steady flow. They had split in smaller groups. Kira went from one group to another to salute every one.
- Hello, Kira! When is your baby due?
- Never too soon! they are twins as usual they have started shooting penalties like soccer fans! How do you fare with your husband. You told me last time that he neglects you totally.
- It hasn't changed but now I know I'll repay him! I'll have a total stranger breed me for the next Holi.
- How? Tell me about it!
Sayli explained she had been walking in Mumbai during last Holi and a very handsome guy drenched her with red powder telling "Bura na mano, Holi hai" (don't be angry, it's Holi). The man had added that red is the color of joy and love. Sayli had answered by covering him with blue powder, the color of vitality. He had laughed and taken her into the middle of the crowd. She had lost her friends and her husband. The stranger had led her away in some poorly lit yard. She was very excited and her lehenga (long skirt worn with a choli) was covered with the color of love. He had kissed her and she had responded in total abandon. He had pushed her against a wall and lifted the hem of her skirt to her waist. She was dizzy and she hadn't tried to stop him.
The man had fumbled in his dhoti to extract his cock, pushed aside her knickers and entered her without foreplay. She had been very wet, quite ready for him! He had pushed his cock into her and she hadn't even thought of asking him to wear a rubber ; she didn't know whether that man was clean from HIV. She had been so excited she hadn't cared. In just a few up and down movements, he had filled her cunt with his sticky spunk. She had cummed with him. The blue powder had been magical as he had fucked her two more times in a row!
The stranger had given her afterward a tampon, officially not to soil her clothes. In fact, it was more probably to keep his sperm inside her. They wandered throughout the town for hours until he had left her in front of her hotel in a very chivalrous gesture. Just she didn't know who he was or where he lived. She was so tired she went to sleep without even taking a shower. She had discovered the tampon the next morning. Her husband was just snoring in the bed...
- One sure is certain : during the next Holi feast, I'll try to lose my husband's group again and wander alone. My handsome lover has given me his cell number and we chatted several times since. Next time, I'll meet him totally unprotected and ask him to breed me
- What will you tell to your husband? He may ask to divorce!
- I will make what most women would do in the same circumstances : When I'll be sure I am pregnant, I'll just fuck my husband several times a week. The poor sod will think I'm again in love with him. Then I'll tell him I am pregnant by him and he will gobble the lie. My baby will be just a few weeks early...
- You're a deceiving slut, Sayli, making your husband think he is the father while you know he won't!
- Aren't husbands meant to help their wives bring up their progeny? I mean their wives' progeny, not the husbands' of course!
- You may see it that way!
- How do you proceed with Kyrhan during Holi?
- Oh, we keep together and nobody ever tried to challenge him or smuggle me out of his reach!
- No wonder! With such a man, I would stay at his feet. Any girl would die to be fucked by him! Would you share him with me some day?
- No way! Try to seduce him if you can! But it's him who decides who he will fuck. I'm a very submissive wife!
- With such a stud, I would be, too. You must always have a great time with him, my dear!
