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I'm Kavita, presently aged 28 from Kolkata and possess physical charm that men of all ages find attractive ever since beginning of my teenage. God gave me beauty and that helped my parents to settle my marriage in a well to do conservative family. I used to dream about a handsome husband earning lots of money for me.I kind of just managed to complete my grad from reputed college in Kolkata when my father got this marriage proposal. We were middle class and when proposal of Deep came, we grabbed it with both hands as they were rich and above all Deep was a handsome boy. Deep was working in Delhi with a MNC and we were told he was getting six figure salary every month.As a result, my father(we also) didn't bother to look into details of Deep and within three months, I was married off to Deep. It came as a surprise to me that Deep didn't even kiss me on our 'Phool sojjo (first night). He seemed a bit disturbed and after a brief chat asked me to sleep.My dreams of having wild sex (mainly

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The morning after our conversation about opening up our marriage, I tried to laugh it off as just dirty pillow talk. Sex talk at night, when you are horny, is a very different situation than in the cold harsh light of the morning.I have watched my wife enveloped in the throes of an orgasm with another man between her legs - twice. It was a sight to savour as Vidya uninhibitedly enjoyed the pleasure that only a large penis could give her, and I couldn't. I still get hard thinking about Ramu's huge dark rod invading her fair pussy. It's a spectacle to see Vidya, unrestrained, enjoying raw sex, even if that was with another man.Jealousy was also the other primary reaction. It is definitely not easy to remain without emotions when you see your wife being pounded by another man and her face betrays the fact that's she's getting satisfaction from another penis. The only thing that kept me going through those affairs was that I loved Vidya more than anything in the world and I wanted to see

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Velamma lay restless in bed that Friday night, her voluptuous body shifting under the thin sheet. Ramesh, her husband of many years, was beside her in his striped pajamas, seemingly absorbed in his laptop. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the fan. Velamma, dressed in a simple yellow nightgown that clung to her massive breasts and wide hips, leaned over to adjust the bedsheet.“Hey Ramesh, your office would be closed tomorrow, na?” she asked sweetly, hoping for some time together.Ramesh glanced up, adjusting his glasses. “Not sure, am waiting for a call to confirm.”Velamma nodded, settling back. “Ok, tell me tonight only. I’ll wake up accordingly.”Moments later, Ramesh’s phone buzzed. He picked it up quickly, moving away slightly as if to hear better. Velamma pretended to doze, but her ears strained.“Hello!” Ramesh answered.The voice on the other end was female, sultry and impatient. Velamma’s heart skipped as she caught fragments.“Just a second,

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Chapter 01: A Thakur Challenges Her WomanhoodThe marriage preparations were abruptly stopped. As usual, there was no provocation for it beyond a sharp exchange of words, and egos were bruised on all sides. The boy's father, Thakur Hari Singh, flew into a rage when his plans for the young couple's future were challenged by the girl in front of her father and other family elders.But what really set the stage for what happened next was the way in which the disagreement became a war of words. In the typical swaggering style of a feudal lord, the Thakur had pronounced that he would wait for exactly 9 months to become a grandfather and that his newly married son should set about propagating the clan forthwith.This announcement was made at a gathering of the two extended families. Binita, the bride-to-be was expected to sit in on the proceedings only to know what was expected of her and not to respond, react or offer comment. But her father had not brought her up in that manner, even though

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This happened when I was around thirteen. Then I lived with my parents in the outskirts of an unimportant district of Kerala. My father ran a small tea-shop and my mother helped him in the business. Though I was their only child, I was not much spoilt. I was not bad in my studies and frequently stood first in my class. I was very obedient to my parents. Since they were fairly educated people, they knew well the value of good education and, though it was beyond their means, they were sending me to an English medium school in a nearby town. Looking back, I think that we were a happy family, though poor, and were envied by all our neighbors.Our troubles started when my father fell ill suddenly and died. He was in the habit of drinking toddy once in a while, but of late, probably because of the sudden heavy losses in running the tea-shop due to the appearance of a restaurant across the road, he had started drinking more frequently. Early one evening, his condition got so worse that we had

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I could hardly utter that as I was panting heavily. I was reluctant to adjust my choli as it revealed much of my boobs now due to my heavy breathing. Guru-ji immediately started some Sanskrit mantra and I could feel he was throwing flowers at my feet. This went on for a minute or so and then he came very near to me. I realized that as I heard the mantras from very near me, in fact, from near my feet! It was indeed an awkward situation as my eyes were tied and I shuffled a bit over the mattress.Guru-ji: Beti, do not move. Stand still.I was sure now that Guru-ji had come by the edge of the mattress for sure. He was continuing with his mantras and throwing flowers at my feet, to be precise now the flowers were striking my thighs and knees!Guru-ji: Beti, remain in this posture as you will get the “lotus touch” now.Me: What… what is that Guru-ji?I barely could ask, still trying to get out of my “hot” encounter with Uday.Guru-ji: Beti, Lotus is regarded as the symbol of divine

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The night air was thick with the lingering scent of jasmine garlands and whiskey as the old SUV rumbled down the empty highway. Velamma sat in the front passenger seat, her voluptuous figure accentuated by the tight red blouse and cream saree that had slipped slightly during the long party. The deep neckline of her blouse strained against her heavy, round breasts, the pallu draped loosely so that the smooth, deep cleavage glistened faintly under passing streetlights. Her mangalsutra nestled between those soft mounds, rising and falling with each breath.In the back seat, Ramesh slumped against the window, snoring softly, his glasses crooked on his nose, completely passed out from one too many pegs. Beside him, their daughter Veena had curled up and drifted off, head resting on her father's shoulder, oblivious to the world.Vicky gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, stealing glances at Velamma. She had closed her eyes, head tilted back against the headrest, seemingly asleep—but

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My mother has three brothers -- all of them way older than her. This story involves their wives (my aunts) and me, one summer when I went up to their lakeside lodge. In Urdu, we call a maternal uncle (the brother of one's mother) a mamu (maternal uncle). The wife of a mamu is called mamani (or maternal aunt-in-law). Therefore this story is the story of my beautiful mamanis and me.We are an Urdu speaking family, originally from Lucknow in India, but settled in Kolkata (formerly known as Calcutta) for a long time. My father is a government employee and my mother works in a big corporation as a secretary. Ours isn't a very rich family, somewhat middle class, but my mamus are all extremely well off. My mother's brothers together runs a business making and exporting traditional Indian garments such as sari and kurta. The older two brothers are actively involved in the business, while the younger one is a doctor with his own practice, but also has shares in the business as a silent partner.

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The phone rang around 5.30 in the morning. It was my aunt Taiba's cell, and the ringtone was an annoying Bollywood high pitched tune. The sun had still not risen on what would be a hot August summer day, and both my aunt and I were in deep sleep."Taiba." I poked her in the butt. "Mamani! It's your cell phone.""Hmm..." Taiba murmured in her sleep.The phone continued to ring."Taiba." I put my hand under the sheets to find her buttocks again. "Wake up and get your phone.""Mmmm." Taiba once again mumbled something. Even I putting a finger in her anus didn't wake her up.We were both tired, of course. It had been a late night. The room still stank of our sweat. And of sex.I had fucked my Taiba mamani twice last night. The first time we had ended up in the missionary position, with me cumming in her hole, as she lay spread eagled. For almost half an hour we had laid in that position, with my cock buried deep inside her, my cum continuously seeping inside her. We lay together as I stroked her

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"Tarun." my wife said one night after dinner after putting our 8-year old son Apu to bed."Yes, Purva?" I replied."How serious are you about the whole open marriage thing?""What?""You know, what you keep bringing up every few weeks. That we should experiment. With other people."I looked at Purva with surprise. She had a curious expression on her face. Wow, she had actually brought up the topic herself! My heart jumped with joy.Purva and I are both 32 years old, and have been married for ten years. Before that, we dated for four years in college. People talk about seven year itches. It has been fourteen years of us being faithful to each other. Obviously, a lot of sameness and staleness had set in. There was also the fact that we had lost our virginities to each other, so we had never been with anyone else.Like most men, I started flirting with the idea of experimentation. Threesomes, foursomes, wife swapping, were all things I read about online. For years I had fantasized about sharing

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