The Rickshaw Driver's Wife Ch. 04
Author's note: This story contains scenes of a cheating wife, adultery, cuckoldry and humiliation. If that's not your cup of chai, go read something else. And remember, while adultery can be a great source of enjoyment in fantasy and erotica, in real life it damages souls and destroys marriages. Please treat the following story as a fiction and fantasy piece only. It is written to deliver pleasure and has no other purpose. - Tarek Zia
My name is Fateh. I am a fifty-two-year-old poor Indian man who drives a rickshaw for a living.
You may have read the stories involving my buxom wife Narges, our master Sarun, and I in the series "The Rickshaw Driver's Wife". Yes, I am
that
Rickshaw Driver, the cuckolded husband, and it is my wife Narges who is
the
eponymous Rickshaw Driver's Wife.
Our master, the young Sarun, wrote the first three chapters of that series. If you haven't read his stories, I suggest you read those chapters before reading this. First of all, not only does he write much better than me, but he completely details how I, and my wife Narges, become his slaves, and how he ends up pretty much fucking my wife at will, in front of me, in my own house, in my own bed. I had a big debt, and Sarun is a very rich man. The moral of my life is that if you don't have the money, don't gamble. You will end up losing everything.
Our master Sarun has ordered my wife and I to pen the next couple of chapters. As he explained it to me, he wanted me to write about how I felt about my wife's debauchery, and my own humiliation, in my own words. As he explained to me, my life of humiliation as a cuckolded husband was just about to begin. He wanted me to fully detail all of my thoughts and experiences as I began this new phase of my married life. Our master Sarun also ordered my wife Narges to write about
her
feelings about our dramatic situation and make them a part of this story, so she will also pick up part of the narration.
I will try to be faithful to our master Sarun's request, although I do not have the skills with words as he evidently has, in addition to all of his other skills, as my wife would no doubt say, taunting me. That was what my life has become nowadays - being mocked continuously by my wife, and sometimes even being physically punished by her. That is what happens when you are no longer the man in your wife's life, when you cannot provide for her, and protect her. You become her servant. My wife never lost an opportunity to remind me of that fact.
Not only does Sarun have a much bigger dick than you
, my wife would say,
he knows what to do with it. You... you are only good at masturbating. Even then, I doubt you give yourself too much pleasure!
It had been a surreal first week with our master Sarun in our house. Yes, I was a poor old rickshaw driver, but at least I was the man of my own house. All that had changed that fateful evening when I picked up what I thought was just another young passenger. This young man was looking for a woman called Narges who happened to be this man's former maid servant.
This man was now my master, and our master, Sarun, and the woman he was looking for - Narges - was my wife... and now Sarun's besotted mistress, sex slave, cum dump, and married slut.
I have to applaud Sarun's chutzpah and confidence.
Of course, I am calling him Sarun here in my story, just for ease of flow of the words. In his presence I was only allowed to call him either "
sahib
" or "master". I remember two days
before
he left, I had just returned from working all day driving the rickshaw. I entered the house and wondered where my wife and our master were. I needn't have worried - the loud sounds of the bed springs squeaking immediately told me where they were and what they were doing. Heaving a sigh of sadness, but also unexplainedly getting a little aroused, I exited the house and walked to the lavatory in the backyard. As I urinated, washed, and freshened up, I constantly heard my wife repeatedly cry out noisily in the throes of several fervid orgasms.
We are very poor, and our houses had very thin walls, and I could hear them having sex from out in the backyard inside the lavatory. I wondered how many of the neighbours had similarly heard my wife have orgasms all day all this week. Certainly, some of them had been giving me strange looks this week. Even now, as I had stopped my rickshaw on our front yard and gotten out, one of the neighborhood ladies put a hand on her mouth to cover her giggles, and she was smirking when she saw me. I heard a few of the ladies talk behind my back when I went out in the morning. No doubt, it was now an open secret on our street what was happening in my house.
I had completely freshened up and re-entered the house. I went to the kitchen and washed all the dirty dishes I saw in the sink. Finally, as I sat waiting in the living room sofa, the new sofa that Sarun had bought for us, he called for me.
"Fateh, are you home, you cuckold? Get in here, you idiot."
"
Ji
,
sahib
." I said, which you can translate as "Yes, Sir."
As I walked in, I saw the two of them lying in bed, completely naked, completely shameless. My 32-year-old beautiful, plump, buxom, sexy wife Narges, and her thirty-year-old virile strong and muscular lover Sarun. As always, there was a strong smell of sex and sweat in the room. Narges was resting her head on Sarun's broad hairy chest and caressing his dark muscular shoulders and biceps.
I looked jealously at Sarun. Evidently the man wasn't just some lazy young rich man who didn't take care of himself. Sarun must be going to the gym regularly. Looking at them just after copulating together, I felt old. Already I was twenty years older than my wife, but looking at the two young lovers, in bed, together, I was distinctly aware of my older age, lack of manhood, and my cuckolded status.
My wife's huge breasts had tiny bite marks around the nipple and as I went around the bed, I saw that her large rotund ass had bright, red marks. She had been spanked... and spanked well. Yet despite the spanking, Narges had the contented look of a well-fucked woman. A look that I was never able to give her. A sudden feeling of inadequacy swept over me. This man was not only spanking my wife, but also fucking her well, and in my own house, on my own bed! And my wife seemed to be loving it.
The spanking AND the fucking!
Narges's legs were spread a little, and I could see a pool of gooey, white cum between her thighs. Sarun's giant cock was lying across one leg, glistening with Narges's cunt juices. To my dismay, I realized that Sarun was still not using condoms. He had NEVER used condoms throughout the whole time he had been fucking my wife. Given that Sarun was thirty, and my wife was thirty-two, they were both in the prime of their youth. I wondered if he had already succeeded in impregnating my wife. I hoped he had given her those pills he said he would give, one he said would prevent pregnancy. We were too poor to afford such pills. I had hoped against hope that he would also use condoms, but Sarun didn't seem to care much.
Moreover, given the expertise with which Sarun had simply taken charge of my wife, I wondered if there were other men whose wives' pussies had been penetrated by that cock. After watching him with Narges for so many days, I realized her certainly knew how to pleasure a woman until she was crying out helplessly for mercy. A big part of that success was his huge dick. Even when soft, his penis was thicker and longer than mine was when hard.
I must have been staring at that monster because Sarun caught me looking, and he laughed out loud, and much to my chagrin my wife Narges joined in with him.
"What are you staring at, Fateh?"
"Er... nothing,
sahib
." I lied.
"Ever seen a
lund
this big?" Sarun boasted, even as my wife wrapped her fingers around his soft member and stroked him. "Do you think your cock has a chance against mine?"
What could I say? This man was emasculating me in every way.
"Er... of course not,
sahib
."
"Good! Now strip! You shouldn't be wearing clothes in our presence, especially when I am not!"
I gasped, but I was not about to argue. I did not want to be spanked again by my wife. Or peed upon. I took off my shirt, and then my lungi. I was now standing completely naked in the presence of my wife and her dominating lover. Yes, we were all now naked, but there was no question about who was in charge here.
Our master Sarun.
"Good, Fateh. You are getting better at obeying." Sarun praised me. "Now do one thing. I have fucked your wife, and Narges has made a bit of a mess on the bed. She cums a lot - your wife! And I don't like a messy bed. So go get some tissue and wipe your wife's pussy clean. I would ask you to lick it clean, but Narges told me that might be too much for you."
"
Ji
,
sahib
."
I got a tissue paper box from the kitchen and returned to the bedroom. Narges giggled, and helpfully spread her legs. I started to wipe her pussy and thighs. It was dripping with Sarun's cum which was running down her legs. Even as I wiped her cunt clear, more spunk would ooze out of her hole. By the time I was done, I had used up quite a lot of tissue papers. We usually didn't use them because of the cost, and used old clothes and rags, but Sarun was adamant about hygiene.
"Husband!" Narges ordered, when I had thrown the tissues in the waste. "Come stand here. Next to me."
