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  • Indian Wife & Construction Guys Ch. 05

Indian Wife & Construction Guys Ch. 05

12

Unlike Sajid, I had no compunctions in stripping my wife completely naked. Within seconds I was inside her, fucking her warm cunt. I got the feeling that her cunt was a bit looser than usual, but I put it down to my imagining things. No matter how big Sajid's dick was, it could not stretch her so much in a matter of days, could it? And even if it had, it made her all the more sexy. This is exactly the kind of newness and excitement I had been hoping for to revive our sex life.

"Mmmm yes.... fuck me harder. Fuck me like the cheap slut I am." Purva whimpered, and that really got me going. She was usually silent in bed. This kind of dirty talk was another welcome change.

"You like being fucked don't you? You like being fucked really hard?" I responded.

"Yes, yes, fuck your slut wife really hard."

I obliged and started pounding her at a feverish pace. But hearing about her encounters had already aroused me so much, that the increased pace meant I didn't really last too long. I came inside her in a little over a minute.

"Shit. That was too soon." I said, resting on top of her, feeling her huge tits press against my chest.

"Mmmmm." Purva moaned. "It's okay. There's more to tell. And I am sure you will get ready soon after you hear about it."

I rolled off Purva and kissed her for a few minutes. And then told her to resume her report.

"Tell me about the next day."

"Can you guess what happened the next day?" Purva asked me playfully.

"Hmm......Sajid fucked you all day...3,4,5,6 times?" I asked.

"Not exactly."

"Rasul and the other guys fucked you?" I asked.

"Nope. Sajid has made it perfectly clear to me and to everyone. He is the only one, apart from my husband of course, who had fucking rights." Purva said.

"Interesting. So what happened the next day? More of the same? The guys coming and feeling you up all day?"

"Also wrong." Purva was enjoying teaching me.

"Oh just tell me already." I begged.

"Hehe. Okay. The next day, Sajid came a short time after Apu left. I was ready in a bra-less top and a skirt to welcome him. I was sure he would fuck me right away. And I was really horny too, since you and I hadn't had sex the previous night. So I waited expectantly for him to make a move. He told me to go to the bedroom. I giggled and skipped to the bedroom and he followed me in. When he came in, I noticed he had a plastic bag in his hands. I didn't pay much attention to it. Just lay down on the bed and got ready for him to ravish me."

"He must have jumped on you." I interjected.

"Wrong again. He came and sat down next to me. Said he wanted to talk."

(Purva narrates)

I was puzzled. So I sat up and looked at him questioningly.

"Purva, the last few days, all my friends have been coming and feeling you up. You don't seem to be stopping anyone from looking at you or fondling you." he said.

"You want me to stop them?" I asked.

"No. I just wanted to know. What do you like about it?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean what is the appeal of strange men...that too poor working class men like us....getting a look at your boobs or your ass, or feeling you up?" he asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" I asked.

"No, you don't understand. i am asking you why you do it." he asked earnestly.

"I don't know...I like it."

"Have you thought about why you like it?"

"I just do." i had no idea where this conversation was going.

"Okay. let me ask this a different way. In a few days, the owner of the plot, a very rich man will come to inspect the construction. Would you like it if I brought him over to do whatever we do?"

"No! No! Absolutely not!" I said, standing up. "Don't even think about it!"

"Alright, I won't. But your response indicates that while you are perfectly fine letting a 50-rupees-a-day uneducated laborer feel you up like a streetside whore..... you don't want to extend the same privilege to a man who earns 50 million a year."

I thought about what he said. He was right. The idea of doing this for the laborers seemed exciting. but for someone like the owner, or even our neighbors, I'd never do it. So I nodded.

"So you seem to be excited by our world. The world of hard knocks, dirty bylanes, slums, and poverty."

"Maybe."

"I want to take you into that world. And give you some new experiences."

"What do you mean?"

"I want you to come with me to a shabby poor part of the city. Where there are no fancy cars. And even electricity is a luxury."

"Huh? I have been to those parts before."

"Not the way I will take you." Sajid said, and opened the plastic bag. From it, he took out what looked like a bundle of black cloth and handed it to me.

"What is this? A bedsheet?" I asked.

"That, Purva, is a burqa."

"A burqa?" I said, puzzled, opening the folds. "What for?"

"For you." Sajid said.

"What the fuck, Sajid?" I asked, exploding with rage. "You first strip me down to almost nothing and now you want me to wear a burqa! Are you crazy??"

"That is exactly what I want you to do. I want you to strip down to nothing and wear a burqa." Sajid said, smiling.

"I don't understand."

"Okay, today, I am going to take you on a walk in the vicinity of the old mosque. one of the poorest parts of town. And what I want you to wear is, the burqa. Nothing else."

And I suddenly understood what he wanted. he wanted me to be completely naked under the burqa.

"Let's say I wear this and come with you. What will we do there?"

"You leave that to me. Trust me to make it a memorable day for you." he said, gently rubbing my bare shoulders.

"Sajid. I have no problems with our games. I am not sure I want to go outside with you. It sounds too risky."

Sajid shrugged and said,

"Purva, everything so far has happened with your consent. Everything. This also, will be up to you."

He got up and walked towards the door. And said,

"If you want to do this, come over in front of the construction site, dressed like I told you. The burqa, and nothing else. Of course, other than some kind of footwear. We'll be back before your son returns from school. If however you don't want to do this....." he stopped and smiled, "don't come over."

And Sajid left. I considered his bizarre proposal. To go out with him? Sounded insane. At the same time, he did give me a burqa. Which means no matter what, my identity would remain a secret. If I passed some acquaintances on the road, they wouldn't know it was me. And what did he have planned? What could I possibly do outside in a burqa that would compare to what I could in the house in my skimpy skirts and tops?

Still, it sounded like an intriguing idea. So I decided, what the heck. I have tried so much new stuff recently. This could be another experience. And if I didn't like what we were doing, I could always just turn around and come home.

So I did it. Stripped completely naked. then lifted the main burqa garment. Slipped it over my head and through my arms. I wondered where he got it. It seemed used. It was almost the same height as mine. but it was very loose. Of course, burqas are not meant do be tight-fitting, but even by those standards, the garment I was wearing seemed like it was made for a woman much fatter than me. I looked in the mirror. With the black robe covering my body completely, I looked eerily like a teacher at Hogwarts. So i reached for the other smaller garment. The purdah. I put it on my head and fastened the veil across my face. I looked in the mirror and almost burst out laughing at the contrast from the recent days, when almost everything was on display. Today, only my eyes were visible.

Ten minutes later, I was standing in front of the construction site. The workers who "knew" me were trying to suppress their laughter. others were confused. And Sajid was beaming as he walked out with Rasul.

"Very good. Ready to go?" he asked. I nodded. "Your eyes are so pretty, you make even a burqa look sexy." he said and winked. I blushed, but there was no way for him to know that.

Sajid and Rasul started walking, and I walked behind them. As I passed the neighboring houses, I got some curious looks. Burqas were not common in our high-income neighborhood. As i recognized some of my neighbors, I had to fight off my urge to greet them or wave to them.

We reached the main road and Rasul hailed an auto-rickshaw. Sajid got in first, then me, and then Rasul. It was a small rickshaw, so I could feel my hips being tightly squeezed on both sides as the three of us sat in it. Sajid told the driver to take us to the old mosque area. And we got going.

The burqa is meant to be worn over normal clothing, so it is obviously very thin. So the pleats caused by the burqa being too big for me actually protected my modesty. If it had been a burqa my size, my nipples, which were erect with excitement, would probably have poked against the thin fabric. But the fabric was in a single layer over my butt, with no pleats, when I was sitting. So whenever the rickhsaw went over a bump, I could feel the rexine upholstery slide against my butt. The bumps also made my boobs rise and fall heavily, something the loose burqa hid very well.

The driver kept checking me out in the mirror every few seconds. And I got conscious of it, so I stared right into his eyes. Surely he couldn't see my boobs jump, I thought. The driver noticed me staring back and started looking straight.

"She is not related to you, is she?" the driver asked.

"What makes you say that?" Sajid asked with a smile.

"Well, even the skin around her eyes is so fair. And you two, don't mind, are like me. Dark." the driver said and smiled as he drove.

"Good observation. Her skin really is very fair and lovely." Said said. "Rasul, show him a sample."

Rasul laughed, and bent down. He grabbed my burqa's hem and started pulling it upwards really slow. First my ankles were exposed, then my shins, and eventually my knees. Rasul kept the burqa rolled up around my knees, displaying my legs to the driver. The driver slowed down and turned his head back.

"Wow. Those are some beautiful legs." he said effusively.

"Her thighs are no less beautiful." Sajid said, and poked me with his elbow.

I took the hint and started rolling up the burqa with my own hands. Slowly, almost seductively, exposing my thighs to him real slow.

"Oh god!" the driver said and started slowing down.

"Don't stop. Keep going." Sajid commanded.

The driver groaned in disappointment. The adjusted his mirrors so that they were all showing him my lower body.

I was feeling so excited at this brazen teasing Sajid was making me indulge in. I was enjoying exposing my thighs to him inch by inch. finally, the garment was bunched up right over my crotch, exposing almost my entire legs to him. And, I felt a slight thrill as the breeze played between my legs and caressed my pussy and clit.

"Oh man! Oh wow! A little more please." the driver said. I looked at Sajid, who shook his head. So I rolled the burqa down all the way. The driver let out a wan sigh. Then he thought of something and said, "If you show me her cunt, your ride is free!"

"Shut up. She's not a whore." Said angrily said. I could sense that the driver wanted to say something snippy, but Sajid enraged can be quite an intimidating figure. So the driver kept quiet for the rest of the ride.

We got down two blocks from the old mosque. The area stank of urine and cowdung as usual. It's sad how the dirtiest places in India are always those around mosques or temples. And the cleanest are malls and offices. It shows our priorities as a people. The narrow roads were full of street vendors, hawking a variety of stuff. There were several people, mostly men, milling about. I also saw a few women, some in burqas like me others normally dressed.

I wondered what Sajid had in mind. Flashing my legs for the driver in the confines of the rickshaw was one thing. I hope he wasn't going to have me flash in such a blatantly public place with hundreds of people around! Luckily, that wasn't what Sajid had in mind. I followed him and Rasul through the main road and then into narrow alleys. The alleys were barely wide enough for two people to walk at the same time. Garbage was strewn around everywhere. there were poor dirty but cute children running around. Most of the windows had extremely appetizing scents of meat wafting through them.

Fifteen minutes later, we came to a small shop. I walked in with my two escorts. It seemed like a tailor's shop.

"Salam alaikum Gafur chacha (uncle)." Sajid said to the very old tailor sitting in the corner working on a sewing machine.

"Walaikum salam Sajid, Rasul." he said, flashing a smile with only 3 remaining teeth. He wore glasses that were thicker than most glass bottle bottoms. I'd peg him at 75 at the very least. "What made you remember me today?"

"Wanted to get some clothes stitched, obviously" Sajid said sitting down next to the old man.

"Who is this? Wife number four?" he said, cackling.

"Something like that." Said smiled and replied.

"With each wife, you are getting more and more traditional, Sajid." Gafur cackled some more. "the first one in her younger days, wore such tight clothes. The second one wore low cut chudidars, butt was otherwise covered up. the third one wore only saris. And now this one is in a burqa?"

Sajid just smiled, and said,

"I want you to stitch a blouse for her."

"Sure, sure, why not? Send Rasul to get Amina from next door to do her measurements." Gafur said.

"There's no need for that, chacha. You can do the measurements." Sajid said.

"What a strange man you are, Sajid. You get a woman in a burqa and then tell me I will take her measurements?" Gafur said, confused.

"Just do it, chacha." he said. He beckoned me over. I walked up to the old man.

"Okay." the old man said and took the measuring tape from around his neck. He stood up, and I could smell the tobacco in his breath.

He told me to raise my hands, and with the tape, first went for the under-bust measurement. But I could sense that he had held the tape too low. So I said, a little higher. The man's hands moved more than a little higher and toughed my boobs. Instantly, he froze and looked at me, and then at Sajid. From the look on his face, I could see that this experienced tailor had gauged ust from a single touch that I was wearing nothing between my breasts and the burqa.

He stared at Sajid and me, and then took the under-bust measurement properly and wrote it down in urdu. Next he went for the over-bust measurement. His hands were shaking slightly as his fingers tightened the tape over my boobs. I could feel one of his fingers briefly rub against my left nipple. He took the measure and wrote it down.

"You won't get the cup size write over the burqa, chacha." Sajid said.

"No, no, it's fine." Gafur chacha meekly said.

"Nonsense. I want this blouse to be a perfect fit." Sajid said and then said to me, "Lift your burqa all the way up to your neck. Don't be shy. Gafur chacha is an old friend of mine."

I was disgusted and turned on, a combination now an everyday occurrence, at the idea of letting this doddering old man see me almost fully naked. I was in his dinky little shop, and he looked and smelled like he hadn't had a bath in a week. But still, the idea of exposing myself to him seemed so thrilling.

I bent down and lifted my burqa. First over my knees, then exposing my naked thighs, then my pussy, then my stomach, and finally my boobs. The loose burqa formed quite a big bunch under my armpit. The old man's eyes had grown increasingly bigger as my naked body came into view. His thick glasses only accentuated that effect. He was now just staring at me, like he had seen a ghost. At his age, I guess seeing a ghost was more likely than seeing a young woman naked.

"Now, measure her cups properly." Sajid said.

Gafur stared at my boobs and my nipples got rock hard. This was so pervertedly delicious. But it was also a bit cruel. teasing such an old man? Why was Sajid making me do this?

Gafur raised his hands with the tape, and reached for my chest, when Sajid came closer.

"Not like that. Measure them like this." He took Gafur's right hand in his own and placed it on my left boob. He then pressed it hard. "This will give you a good idea."

"Oh god!" Gafur said, and put his second hand on my other boobs. His hands were small and feeble, and very rough. When he moved them over my boobs, it felt like someone was rubbing sandpaper over them.

He then started squeezing them, massaging them slowly, and then increasing the frequency. All the while, a low sad moan was emanating from his mouth. It grew increasingly high pitched, as the frequency of his squeezing my boobs increased. And then he let out a big sigh and let go of my boobs. Puzzled, I looked at Sajid and he gestured with his eyes towards Gafur's crotch. Sure enough, there was a big wet stain on his pyjamas. The old man had cum in hos pants just by touching my boobs!

Gafur tottered backwards, and sat down on his chair, staring at me.

"Do you want to see anything else, chacha?" Rasul helpfully asked.

"Just.....just have her turn around." Gafur said in a low voice.

I turned around and gave him a look at my nice round butt. I heard him moan once again. I stood like that, modeling my butt for him, fur a few minutes. Finally Sajid said it was time to go. So I dropped the burqa back over my body, and followed him out.

"So how did that feel, Purva?" Sajid asked.

"Interesting." I replied.

"Want to keep going or go home?"

"Let's keep going." I said. I was curious to see where he would take me next.

The next stop happened to be a guy who ran a Unani massage place. He was also an old man, but younger than gafur, maybe in his 60s. When Sajid said he wanted me to get a full body massage, the old man refused to believe him. He said he had massaged women's twisted ankles before, but never given a woman a full body massage. Plus, he said, the trick of the Unani massage is in its oils and ointments, so a burqa clad woman could never get it.

"No problem. She will take her burqa off." Sajid said.

And old man, in the confines of his shop, almost jumped through the roof when I took off the burqa, even as I kept the face scarf and the veil on, and lay down on the mat in front of him, completely naked.

"Where did you find her, Sajid?" this old man said in an agitated but happy voice as he quickly gathered his oil bottles.

"Found her next door." Sajid said and Rasul started laughing. Even I could not suppress a chuckle.

(Purva narration ends)

"Sorry to interrupt." I jumped in. "But let me get this straight. You were splayed out on this old man's mat, completely naked?"

"Except for the parts covering my head and face, yes."

"So you didn't just roll it up like with the tailor. You just....took it off?" I asked, unable to believe my ears.

"Yes, it is very easy."

"It's not a question of easy or difficult. I am amazed at how easily you were getting naked in front of strange men in strange places."

"Does that bother you?" Purva asked.

"Not at all. I have never been so horny in my life!" I said happily.

"Okay, so the old man took the oils and massaged me with them very slowly and gradually. He was staring at my boobs and pussy the whole time, but like a professional, he started with the limbs. My feet, then my calves, were bathed in oils and worked over by his rough but magical fingers. Hard and gentle at the same time. By the time he got to my thighs, I was already feeling so turned on, I had to fight an urge to part my legs completely and ask him to fuck me right then."

"Wow!" I said.

"He then worked on my thighs, pinched them softly and massaging them with both hands, but stopped just above my pussy. He then turned his attention to my hands. First my fingers were loosened, then my arms, and then my shoulders. By the time he came to me boobs, I was a moaning mess, just writhing there at his every touch. Covered in strange oils, but more importantly, washed away by sheer carnal hunger. He then started massaging my boobs with extra oil. My nipples were so hard and erect, they started hurting."

12
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