ALL THE STORIES HERE ARE FICTION, THIS SITE DOES NOT CONDONE UNDER AGE SEX OR CRIMINAL ACTS IN REAL LIFE.
The evening began with me the very image of the perfect curvy redheaded upper middle class white wife, if a little fuller of bosom than standard, dressed up for a night out.
I was out for dinner with my husband at an upscale restaurant. It is a luxury during COVID as seating capacity is less than half, and hours of operation are deeply constrained. Still, it was a treat. I had lost most of my social life as I had spent the summer working with the Army to support the old folks homes and medical shut ins as part of the community support deployed while the civilian government found a way to deliver the same services to dozens of homes without cross contaminating . Now I was back teaching and the mix of in person and online was very stressful for everyone, no one knowing what we were doing from one week to the next, and the story changing about how we were delivering what we all agreed had to be provided. This was my first night off, our first night out as a couple in ages.
Then I saw Vivek.
He was with a laughing blonde. She was maybe half my age, young and thin where I was mature and curvy. She was bold and loud as I was hopelessly conservative before anyone but Vivek. She was spectacular, and he deserved her. I didn't deserve him. I was married to a wonderful man, but I touched myself every night dreaming about the feel of Vivek's huge Hindu cock stretching my married white pussy. Dreaming of him pushing my 48G breasts together and using my whole body to worship his conquering Hindu cock until he filled my mouth, painted my face and crowned my burning red hair with the pearl majesty of his superior sperm. I sometimes went to work with a plug in my married white ass to pretend I was preparing for one of our dates, as he loved to take my ass hard and fast, pulling my long red hair and spanking my ass until the colours matched. My god, how I would cum when he would reach around and either cup and squeeze my breasts or my throat, either enjoying my body as his toy, or reminding me I was his possession.
I looked at her, the young Slavic looking blonde and wondered if her blue eyes had ever closed to let the hot burning essence of Vivek's golden piss wipe the cum from her brow and cheeks like he had done for me. Would she open her mouth? Would she swallow his pee as she rubbed it into her breasts and traced its path down her body like I had my own, to rub my swollen and overstimulated clit to another orgasm as he marked me as his bitch? He deserved no less. I was just a faithless slut who sat at a table with her ignored white husband staring at Vivek take each bite to his dark mobile mouth, watching them claim each morsel like he would claim my aching pink nipples. Watching those dark, dark eyes flash along with his bright white teeth when he laughed, transformed from the dark danger of a resting tiger to the bright laughter of a summer brook. I drank his presence like a lost Bedouin drank their first sip of water in three days.
I saw Vivek rise to go to the bathroom and without a word, I dropped my fork and napkin to the table and followed him through the restaurant. My gown suddenly felt too dowdy, my bra unnecessary. I thought myself pretty when I dressed for my husband but my bra and panties now struck me as theft as they kept Vivek's eyes from his rightful property. I wore the Trishul necklace at my throat, half necklace, half choke collar, it was both a gift and a statement of ownership from Vivek, and the golden trident flashed as it bounced in the valley between my pale white breasts, directing every eye to the charms all men wanted to see, but I had kept hidden until Vivek ordered me to display that others could marvel at what he owned. I was walking fast enough to catch him that they bounced enough to stop conversation as I passed.
Vivek opened the door to the mens room and without a word I pushed the door open to follow him. He turned in surprise and I threw my long arms around him, kissing him passionately. I wrapped my right leg around his left, and tucked my calf behind his thigh, pressing my needy white pussy against his elegant trousers like the desperate slut he made me. My nipples were hard, my blush was painting my own cheeks and upper chest the bright scarlet of the scarlet letter given to adulteresses. There were two men in the bathroom. One was a middle aged man who looked shocked but amused, and slipped past to exit, the second was another East Indian from the bussing staff, and he quietly locked the bathroom door and took station beside it.
Vivek wrapped his fingers in my hair, wrapping it around his fist as his tongue lashed around my own as it invaded his mouth like I needed him to invade all of my needy white holes. With a low growl he pulled my head back until his dark flashing eyes could look into my wild blue ones. His hand when it came across slapped me hard enough to leave a bright hand print, but not hard enough to damage my jaw.
"Jan, you desperate little whore, we agreed that you and I would never approach each other in public. You are married, and we both have professional careers to think of. What would your husband or daughters think of you following some younger Hindu man into the bathroom for any chance to catch a glimpse or touch of his lund? Of his hard Hindu cock? You have broken the rules Jan, and disappointed me."
Without a word, I unzipped my gown, and let it fall to the floor. Standing before Vivek and the buss boy in thigh highs, panties and bra, I grabbed the urinal and pointed my ass at him insolently. I looked back over my shoulder and taunted him with a courage bordering on madness.
"If I broke your precious rules, then punish me. If you won't dirty your hands with me, use your belt" I was panting like a bitch in heat, the pressure of my nipples upon my bra was almost unbearable, and the heat in my panties was a flame that only one hose could hope to put out. The buss boy swore in disbelief as he saw a proud married redhead strip herself and beg for a whipping by this Hindu man.
I held the urinal as I heard the hiss of his belt coming out of its loops and the harsh crack as it struck my ass was electric.
"Thank you Sahib!" I cried as the first blow landed.
"Thank you Sahhib" I cried for each of the next three as his rage ruled him roused by my defiance.
Then his voice got the low rough edge it bore when his control was almost gone, when laughing civilized Vivek became the tiger predator, the proud king cobra who knew only fang, hunger, and need to rule, even as he rightly recognized me as his rightful prey and property.
He ripped off my panties in a single heave and grabbed me by the throat as he snarled at me.
"Those tits are mine, how DARE you hide them from me?" He hissed.
I unclasped my bra and he took my left breast into his mouth and sucked my nipple so hard I almost came. I ran my fingers through his jet black hair and stroked his back reminding him that my hands were where they had no right to be. He slammed my hands back on the urinal pipe and began to spank my ass with the belt again.
"Thank you Sahib!" I cried out with each slap, my pendulous breasts bouncing with each strike, my legs dancing like a colt in reaction each time the belt whistled down. I do not think he made ten strokes before he grabbed my hair and forced me to my knees. I took out his cock and he bound my hands in front of me with the loop of his belt.
"Get your whore mouth to work, you stupid white slut, so I can pee and return to my date. She is the one who will feel my cock in her tight white pussy and ass tonight not you. Now, suck my Hindu cock you red headed whore" He snarled.
He stepped on his belt, so my hands couldn't reach up and cup his ass cheeks, or feel his beautiful heavy bronze balls. He was like a god from one of the Hindu temple friezes, angry and potent, so primal and male he was like the sun towards which all things female grew in hope of one day touching, even if they must burn away to do so.
His cock had a full foreskin and heavy plumb like know, so unlike the skinless pale pink pencil of my husband. Hooded like the great cobra, I was helpless as any white rabbit before it, hypnotized by its potent swaying, and I moaned as I took him into my mouth and tasted him again.
Not just him. I tasted her. The younger woman's Slavic pussy juice was all over this bronze bar of Hindu supremacy, and my English/Germanic mouth swirled, sucked, and slobbered on it with desperate hunger to erase her mark and remind him of my own devotion, my own need, and yes, pathetically, my own helpless love for him who owned both this cock, and my married white ass.
I gagged as he began to thrust into me, but soon I raised my chin to open my throat and the muscles remembered their master. Long streams of drool, snot and precum painted my breasts with clear glaze as they bounced as he mercilessly face fucked me. I got enough slack in the belt to reach my pussy as I began to rub my clit urgently as he face fucked me. His fist in my long red hair made a ruin of my hair style even as my black mascara and eyeliner made a tear stained ruin of my face, but my tongue lapped at the underside of his cock with the awareness that the mana of the gods would fall from that divine shaft and anoint me as his own, if only I could love him as fiercely as he deserved.
He came with a coughing roar, half way between a groan and shout. I grunted like a rooting pig, and about as lady like, as I swallowed convulsively while he came in helpless shuddering gouts. As he shook and panted his way back to normal breathing, he broke into a self aware chuckle and addressed me softly.
"Jan, Jan, Jan, what am I going to do with you?" Looking down on me in amusement.
Through tear stained cheeks, smiling around his cock, with my wide blue eyes twinkling, I waggled my fingers at him in hello as I hummed happily around his now semi soft cock.
Stepping to the urinal, Vivek swore as the piss hurt as he forced it through his long mostly hard cock. Pulling my face to the urinal, he blasted my cheek as he spilled his golden piss off my face into the white bowl. Unrepentant, I lapped my tongue out to taste his pee, and lap at his cock. Laughing softly, he forced his cock into my mouth for the last few spurts, and made me swallow it. I cleaned him lovingly.
Reaching down, he cupped my face, rubbing a thumb over my pale brow and making my whole body shiver. Only is touch could turn my forehead and eyebrow into an erogenous zone!
"Now Jan" Vivek said, "I am not too angry with you. You are only a mleccha whore after all, and helpless against your needs. I am a merciful master and will let it go this time. Now, you will have to thank this young man for giving us this privacy. Treat him as you would me. Deny him nothing."
With that Vivek dressed and I cleaned myself in the sink as Vivek and the Indian buss boy laughed. The buss boy let Vivek out and then turned to me. He stalked over and slapped my big white tit hard enough to leave a handprint before his hand grabbed my ass and pulled me into him. A young inexperienced mouth claimed my breast and he sucked and half bit my nipple as he rubbed my pussy. The small landing strip above my cream pale womanhood did little to hide my urgent need as I had opened like a flower at Vivek's handling, and my sex all but screamed my need to be fucked.
"You like Indian cock do you lady?" The boy asked.
"Yes Sahib, I love hard Indian cock in all my white married holes." I whimpered as long flexible fingers began to probe into the hot wet tightness of my dreadfully neglected sex.
With a growl he pushed me onto my back and tore open his zipper. His cock was straining to get out of his underwear and it took him three tries to get the long dark shaft out without hurting himself. I reached out and trembling, guided him to the enterence.
Looking down into my eyes, now with a moment of hesitation, he drew back as if scared of what he was doing.
"Are you sure you are OK with this?" I felt a wash of warmth fill me. He was concerned I was being forced to be with him. The young man was a gentleman at heart. I leaned forward and kissed his throat, whispering to him "Please show me how a Hindu lord takes his white whore. Please give me your cock, your strong Hindu seed!"
With a groan, I felt his cock push into me. It had been too long with only my fingers, because the boy suddenly felt like I was being taken by a horse or a bull not a boy of less than twenty who hadn't been shaving long. I clenched against him as he pushed in, then he crowned and my pussy clamped inward like a velvet vice, milking his young cock like my thirst for Hindu seed was written in my muscles on a cellular level. He pushed in, perhaps three or four inches at the first thrust. My eyes flew wide open, and I grabbed his tight little ass in my hands, painted nails clawing into it in naked need. With a sound half way between snarl and whimper he thrust three more times without any rhythm, each one getting another inch or two into me until I felt his balls slap against my ass.
Looking deep into my eyes, he began to thrust. Oh how it felt, my pussy almost feeling pulled out of me as I tried to not let one millimeter of that gorgeous boys' cock pull out of me, and each thrust back in driving breath from my body. I was too charged, loo long without. He had only begun to find his rhythm when I felt my own orgasm begin. I thrashed like I had been hit with a live wire and I think I hurt him a little as I grabbed his shoulders so hard he winced, but he began to wildly drive into me, fucking me through my orgasm with the wildness of youth and the power of a Hung Hindu Bull in training. I may not have been his first, but I doubt there had been more than two or three to have ever been graced with his young cock before because he looked like he was going to enter Nirvana bodily when his young balls began to shoot endlessly into my married white womb. He spilled himself into me with the sort of abandon that comes only to those who have lost themselves utterly in the spending, and I went with him.
He collapsed onto me, kissing me with almost punishing intensity.
As he pulled off to try to rise and dress, I caught him before he could put himself back into his pants and cleaned him with my mouth the way I was taught a Mleccha should always clean a Hindu lord who had graced her with his lund. He looked almost embarassed as I dressed and cleaned myself off. My panties were nowhere in sight, I don't know whether Vivek or the buss boy had claimed them, but either one was welcome to their trophy.
I returned to the table and my husband with a dazed smile. He stopped asking how I was feeling when I cleaned my plate with the sort of appetite a woman is not supposed to display to the world, I was happy. I was fulfilled. I had a pussy full of Hindu cum, a belly full of precious Vivek's holy seed, and a nice meal to wash it down with.
On the way home I received a text from Vivek.
"You can blow your husband if you can get him to suck the Hindu sperm from your pussy, but he is not allowed to fuck you."
I know he is going to take his little blonde in every one of her holes, she will and can deny him nothing. Neither can I. He deserves everything we can offer him. I reached over in the car and began to stroke my husband's cock. He began talking, but I didn't listen. I unzipped him and began stroking his cock as we drove home. I whispered to him that if he played his cards right, I would swallow him down like the last glass of chardonnay at dinner.
Yes, I would have a teaspoon full of my husband's white cum to chase a bellyful of Vivek, but he would have to lap enough Hindu sperm first from my white pussy to fill the Holy Ganges.