Saima Becomes Mishra's Fuc Slut

This is a work of fiction based on real events. All characters are over 18 years of age. All names have been changed for privacy purposes.

I am Saima. I am a 31-year-old housewife and my husband Altaf is 36 years old. This is an account of how my boring life unfolded into a sexual adventure when we had to move to Delhi.

I was born and brought up in Lucknow city, in a middle-class family, and did my graduation in arts. Our family is traditional in outlook and my marriage too was performed in that way. Altaf is a simple man and works for a private company. We moved to Delhi about three years back when because of economic compulsions Altaf took the new job there. He had some family debts to clear and needed to earn more money.

We moved to the present colony about a year ago. The area we were living in earlier had been more conservative, and the new colony had more of a mixed crowd, all living in good harmony and going about their business. I like this colony much more since it is much cleaner and greener and less congested than the previous one.

When we moved here first, we moved into a one-bedroom flat on the 2nd floor. On the very first day, we were well received by our immediate neighbors and flat owners, the Mishra family. They helped us in settling down quickly in the new community. Mishra's wife is a very nice lady, around 40 years of age and she introduced me to the other womenfolk of our society.

Mishra is about 45 years old. He is around 5'9" tall, well built with hardly any fat, and handsome in a way. His best asset is his smile which he is always seen sporting while talking to others, particularly women. And when he received us on that first day and introduced us to his family and other neighbors, I admit I was instantly flattered by his charming personality. Mr. and Mrs. Mishra have a pretty teenage daughter. Mishra's main activity is the Real Estate business. Over the years, Mishra had managed to buy up a few flats in our society.

He was also member of the society managing committee, and in charge of the maintenance and administration of our society.

In our society, most of the women were housewives. So once the men left for their offices and the women finished their household chores, we would gather at anyone's flat and gossip. The usual chatter would be who is having an affair with whom and whose daughter has been losing morals or whose sister eloped and things like that.

One day I was surprised when one of the women commented "Girls, have you noticed, Mishraji nowadays seems to be having his eyes on Saima"?

Another woman chipped in saying "Oh yes, Mishraji always had an eye for new and attractive women."

Mishra's wife hotly contested them, saying that I was like her sister and what is wrong if her husband looks at me!

That got me thinking. From that day I started looking for signs of his interest in me.

That woman was right. I saw Mishra stealing secret glances at me whenever our paths crossed. One evening, I was returning from the market when we met in front of the building entrance. I was wearing a green knee-length Kurti and Black Leggings, and had left open my black shoulder-length hair, which fell to my back. A simple conversation started when he asked me how things were going and such. But all that time Mishra's eyes would wander down to my chest every few seconds. And when our conversation ended and I walked away, I turned my head back and saw him simply standing there, his eyes fixated on my buttocks. I blushed and started walking again. It was strangely exciting!

As soon as I reached my flat, I went straightaway to the bedroom and observed myself in the mirror. I have a very average body, about 5'4" in height, fair in complexion with straight raven black hair and smooth skin. I was slim earlier but had put on some weight the last few years, luckily in the right places. As a result my hips and buttocks now stand out prominently. I have a fairly well-endowed bust with my bra size being 34C and my panty size is 90. That should give you a fair idea!

I was a virgin at the time of my marriage. After marriage, for the first two years, my sex life was somewhat satisfactory, but nothing like what I'd imagined it should be, from the novels I'd read and the porn movies I'd watched. Things worsened after we were unsuccessful in having our own child. Altaf also had financial tensions and slowly his interest in sex waned. Even when we did have sex, he would just get hard, insert his penis in my vagina, give me a few strokes and ejaculate inside. He would pull out quickly, wash up, and go to sleep. He gave no thought about me, no foreplay, no love talk, and no pillow talk! I would simply lie there, my unsatisfied hungry cunt leaking with his sperm. Sometimes I would quietly go and masturbate in the bathroom, but that was risky.

Being a housewife I had an ample amount of alone time at home. My husband would leave for work in the morning and return late in the evening. So with time, I secretly bought some vibrators and thick dildos online and whenever I would be alone, I would fuck myself for hours. I started watching porn for stimulus, and the masturbation sessions soon became a part of my everyday schedule. I slowly turned into a sex-hungry frustrated housewife, but I never expressed my non-satisfaction to Altaf. So I hope you can therefore imagine my state, mentally and sexually.

And hence, all of a sudden being in the crosshairs of a stranger man who potentially desired me left me with a strange feeling. A feeling of breaking myself out from the monotonous inertia of my life and doing something for my own pleasure. A feeling of being up to no good.

And as I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I decided that I would test Mishra's desires for me.

As I said earlier, Mishra used to come personally to collect the rent for the apartments that he owned. The rents were payable at different times by different flats because the frequency varied as agreed initially, and our flat rent was payable fortnightly. He would mostly came when my husband was not around.

So after a couple of days when I knew he would come to collect rent in the noon, I changed into a pair of tight leggings and kameez and intentionally wore no bra beneath.

I was brushing my hair when the doorbell rang, I opened it and as I'd expected, it was Mishra with his charming smile.

"Hello Saima, how are you?" he asked.

"I'm fine, thank you," I replied with an extra sweet smile. "I guess you have come for the rent? Why don't you come inside, I'll get you a cold drink while I bring the money," I added.

"Sure, that will be great!" he replied. I noticed his eyes as usual were exploring my body. The kameez I wore was also tight and hugged my body in a way that the shape of my big aroused nipples were now clearly visible through it.

Mishra simply stared at my chest and swallowed visibly. I went back inside, swaying my hips intentionally which was amplified by the tight clothing. Mishra followed me inside and shut the door behind him.

He sat on the sofa which also faced the refrigerator. I opened the fridge's door with my back towards Mishra and intentionally bent down more than required to get the cold drink can.

"Holy fuck!" he exclaimed.

I giggled and turned around to look at him, still bent over with my ass still pointing at him. I asked him with a laugh, "what?"

He said, "Oh I'm sorry for the language. It's just that you've decorated the flat so well. The view from here is breathtaking!"

I blushed deeply. That was clearly a tease. I got up, walked back to where he was sitting, and handed him the can. He brushed my fingers with his, and then repeated the gesture again while taking the money. Later, while returning the empty can he caught my wrist and pressed it gently as if giving me a message.

Our eyes met very briefly. But at that moment a silent understanding seemed to pass between us. But just as quickly the look was gone and he got up, politely thanked me for the drink, and left, as if nothing unusual had happened right before.

---

Around three months passed since my unusual encounter with Mishra. He had started to come to collect the rent in the evening when my husband was present, so I mostly kept to the kitchen or bedroom. We didn't even once have a single conversation since and I started to suspect that Mishra's interest in me had faded even before it was expressed.

But one day there was a knock early in the morning. There was Mishra with two more men from the society. Mishra introduced them to my hubby, one was the Society President and the other one was the vice president.

I was listening to the conversation from the kitchen. They invited us for the year-end society meet, which was actually a party for the residents of the society. Due to the year-end season, Altaf was knee-deep busy in office work, so he informed them that he won't be able to attend the party but I could if I felt like going. And with that, the visitors left.

Two days later there was again a knock on the door in the morning. Since Altaf was in the shower, I went to see who was there. It was Mishra. As soon as he saw me, his face broke into a wide smile. He beamed at me and asked "Saima! It's been so long, how are you?"

I smiled at him pleasantly, "I'm good as always. Altaf is in the shower, he'll leave for the office in half an hour. Do you want to wait to talk to him?"

"No, no. I'm actually here for your RSVP. Will you be coming to the society meet tomorrow night?" he asked.

I shook my head and said innocently, "No Mr. Mishra, actually my husband won't be able to come. And I don't think it would be appropriate if I came alone."

Mishra waved his hand saying insistently, "Oh, that doesn't matter at all. It's not like you don't know anybody. My family would be there and all your other friends that you gossip with. Come on Saima, you must come to the party! Everyone will be there, I promise you will have an amazing time! And moreover, as a co-organizer I'm hereby making it mandatory for at least one member of a newcomer family to attend the party," he finished with a naughty grin.

I felt like giving in. I took a deep breath and said "Okay, you're insisting so much so I will think about it. But parties make me really nervous."

"That's more like it. And don't worry, you will have a blast. Just wait and see," and with that Mishra gave me an encouraging pat on my butt, said "I really hope you come to the party, Saima," and then left.

Though he meant it only as a harmless pat, and it went with the conversation. But he had never touched me that way before, the only contact being when he caught my wrist the other day he visited, and as his big manly hand made the first contact with my bouncy buttocks, it felt more like a naughty spank and sent a shiver down my spine as I stood with the door open, watching him leave.

In a great dilemma thinking about what might happen the next day, I didn't even realize how quickly the day passed. I stayed up late pondering over my decision.

When I woke up the next morning, it was already 10 a.m., and Altaf was ready for office. After he left, I made up my mind and informed Mishra's wife about my decision to attend the party.

When the evening arrived, I dressed in black skin-tight Jeans, and a green T-shirt and leather jacket. Leading a simple regular life, I hadn't got many opportunities since last year to go to parties and all. And as my weight has increased, my clothes felt a size too tight. I observed myself in the full-length mirror and whistled at the sexy reflection. I left my hair open and put on some makeup.

Around six in the evening, Mishra came to pick me up. Seeing me, he left a low whistle and exclaimed, "wahaow! Saima, you look hot! No offense, but you should try casual clothing more often."

I smiled sweetly at him and said "Thank you, Mr. Mishra. I don't really get much chance to wear them."

He smiled back and said, "Well I'm glad you did. Let's go."

We left the building, and as I waited outside Mr. Mishra came on a motorcycle, which I found a bit odd because I knew his business was doing very well and he owned a BMW.

"My wife took the car. She has to catch a flight early morning to visit her parents, so she has to head back early and pack. And my daughter is feeling under the weather so she can't attend the party either," he explained.

I climbed onto the bike and sat conservatively without any contact with him, I only put my hand on his shoulder for support. "Oh that's fine, let's go," I told him.

The party was being held on the roof of a 5-star hotel and it wasn't really far, we reached there in about 20 minutes.

The party started at a slow pace and as time passed things took a swing. After dinner, all the men were busy drinking alcohol over at the bar at one corner, they cheered and toasted loudly. The females were busy with the usual chit-chat and gossip.

During the initial part of the party, Mishra's wife was with me, but she left the party early, as Mr. Mishra had said.

Around 10 p.m., the lighting went dim and a disco strobe light started flashing. The DJ dropped the beat and started playing dance numbers to the loud cheers from the audience. Initially, only the men went dancing, but later the women joined them.

Married couples danced together, unmarried ones formed pairs, and I just stood there as Mishra came over to me smiling sheepishly and said, "My wife left early. C'mon Saima, join me for a song!" He took me by the hand and pulled me to the dance floor. I removed my jacket and threw it at a chair.

It felt awkward at first, but in a minute we were swaying with the song's rhythm. We maintained a foot's distance between us, but I started to enjoy dancing with him. Both of us forgot he had asked me for just one song. As the song changed into a groovy one, slowly we edged near each other. I realized we were only inches apart and our bodies were occasionally touching and bumping together. It was dark and the only light was from the random flashing of the strobe light. Every couple was engrossed in each other. I turned around and pressed myself against him, my back to his front.

We swayed together. My back rubbed against his chest, he caressed my exposed arms with his hands. I pressed more and my buttocks were now rubbing against his groin. It was way too loud to hear anything other than the song but I could've sworn I heard him exclaim "God, you have a sexy ass." I turned my head to a side and saw him, he also looked at me. We both smiled at each other naughtily and kept dancing.

Later when the song turned into a slow one, Mishra put his hand on the sides of my hips and turned me back around. I put my arms around his neck and we moved slowly, looking into each other's eyes. I felt a series of heartbeats and realized they weren't mine, I was feeling his heartbeats. I realized my breasts were pressed hard against his chest as I was leaning on him with my full weight. He put his arms on my back and started caressing. I looked around to see if anyone was watching.

All the couples were immersed in each other's arms and no one was paying attention to us, moreover, I was too involved in the moment to care anyways. I put my head on his chest as we moved with a slow rhythm. One of his hands moved down and started making slow circles, I shivered in his arms. How many songs we held each other I didn't know, we were truly lost in feeling each other. His hand was now resting my ass cheek, he was rubbing it ever so lightly. My breaths had become more frequent now.

Then he gave my butt a squeeze, causing a moan to escape my mouth into his chest. We held each other even tighter. It was a tender moment and I was completely aroused, could feel the dampness between my legs. My legs were weakening because of the arousal, I had to stop dancing!

"Hey," I said, my head still resting on his chest.

"Hey, you alright?" he asked with concern in his voice.

I looked up at him, we still held each other and I said, "No, I'm actually very tired. Can we go now?"

"Sure, definitely!" he said, and we left the dance floor. He grabbed my jacket and helped me get into it.

Late December can get like a freezing hell at night and my leather jacket wasn't enough. So when I climbed onto his bike behind him, I grabbed onto him tightly, pressing my body as hard as I could to share the body heat. The cold winds were punishing, and I was thankful the flat wasn't very far away.

After we reached our building, Mishra insisted on accompanying me to the flat. We took the stairs, Mishra followed behind me instead of walking side-by-side, I got a feeling that he was watching my ass. The thought of him watching me picked up my heartbeat. Finally, we reached our floor.

As I unlocked the door to my flat, I turned around and said to him, "Um, would you like to come and have a cup of hot coffee. It's awfully cold tonight."

He looked at me unsurely and said, "um, okay yeah! Why not, that sounds great.." His tone suggested he was nervous about being in a room alone with me.

I went in first, he followed behind me. I heard him shut the door behind us, felt his eyes on me. My heart was practically fluttering in my chest with the unknown prospect of what could happen between us.

"I really had a good time tonight, Mr. Mishra. Thank you very much," I told him.

"Oh don't mention it!" he said, then added, "To be honest, I've never had such an amazing dancing experience even with my wife."

I looked at him and we smiled at each other nervously. I removed my jacket slowly. All the while I felt his eyes on me, he was observing me openly. I went to the kitchen and put the water for boiling. Right then I heard his footsteps following me into the kitchen.

He came up behind me and I felt his hands on my shoulder. I froze on the spot.

His hands went down, caressing my arms, kept going further down until they were on my hips. Then he brought his hands over my buttocks and then gave a hard squeeze. I gasped audibly and suddenly he was embracing me from behind. His hands wrapped around my stomach, he pressed his body on me. I felt his crotch being pressed hard against my ass, he was hard, completely aroused. I felt his lips on my neck, I closed my eyes and at the same time, his hands came up and grabbed my breasts. He squeezed them tightly with his big manly hands and kissed me passionately on my neck, I moaned with pleasure. He was pressing his groin against my buttocks again and again, and the next thing I knew, I too was pressing my ass against his hard crotch matching his rhythm, letting him hump me.

The moment lasted a couple of minutes but felt like an eternity, and suddenly he left me and stepped back. He said with a weak voice, "I--I think I should go now."

And then he left. It was pretty clear now we wanted each other but he was just as scared as me.

I stood there catching my labored breaths, my heart was beating in my throat.

I was still aroused, I locked the main door, rushed to the bedroom, and shut the door. I removed my jeans and the t-shirt, unhooked my bra, removed the panties all in a hurry, and fell naked on the bed on my back. My right hand quickly found its way to my mound, I kept it trimmed regularly. I stroked my labia which was already damp with arousal.

I closed my eyes as I increased the pace, rubbing my clitoris. My breath became rasped, my other hand was now on my breast, squeezing and pinching the erect nipple.

I inserted a finger and began stroking it inside my vagina roughly, but that still wasn't cutting it, I needed something more. Something big. My hands stopped their motion, my eyes opened, I quickly climbed off the bed and rushed to the cupboard, opened it, and started rummaging through my clothes. There it was, the 6-inch long thick shiny purple-colored dildo which I kept hidden in my clothes.