Epic Cuckold Sequel Chapter 30 Conversations Not Meant to Be Heard
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Epic Cuckold Sequel - Chapter 28 The Angst Of Waiting free porn video
I buried myself into the housework. Now that I had a mission to accomplish, and I was in the privacy of my own home without anyone else around, it didn’t even occur to me that I was dressed in women’s attire. It wasn’t that I forgotten about it, but it was simply not top of mind. I had a few hours to get things done and then disappear to the office so that my wife could have some alone time with Prem to explain that she was moving back in with me, her husband.
My first task was to start the laundry. I gathered my own clothes, and then ventured into Prem’s room to bring the baskets over to the laundry room. There were clothes all over, on the bed, beside the bed, on the floor, evidence of the orgy party that I was not invited to. Not one of them had taken care to put anything where it belonged. I found Kavita’s most intimate undergarments all over. Her panties were balled up underneath the sheets, her camisole on the floor next to the bed, and her bra tossed away near the bathroom. Gowri’s nightwear was also mixed in, along with Prem’s musky boxers and undershirts. I gathered it all up and brought it to the washing machine. I paused for a moment to unroll my wife’s panties. I peered at them. Navy blue, with whitish streaks staining the gusset. I held them up to my nose to sniff. They felt damp and musky, an intoxicating scent of sexual fluids. I breathed in deeply, imagining the intimacy of sexual union between my wife and another man.
Then I looked at Gowri’s panties next, a super soft pair with flowery patterns. Unlike with Kavita, with whom I had a marital relationship and could therefore be entitled to touch her intimate undergarments, I had no such relationship with Gowri. She was Prem’s fiancé, and more like a sister-in-law to me. I knew it was totally taboo to do. But I couldn’t stop myself. She was younger, sexier, more modern and confident, and off-limits to me. The forbidden pleasure of ogling her earlier had me excited. I looked inside the crusty panties. My heart was racing as I drew myself close to smell them. The scent was different from Kavita’s, more pungent, but with the common element of stale semen. My penis grew hard and my heart was beating fast. I was reliving the excitement of what the inanimate panties had experienced last night that I myself could not. I touched my nose to the inside of Gowri’s panties and took a deep breath. My excitement was tempered by the realization that anyone watching me would see a man in a state of pathetic and shameful desperation. With that thought, I suddenly felt disgusted with myself. I threw the clothes into the washing machine and started the machine as I caught my breath. My penis was dripping inside its own panties.
I finished cleaning up the kitchen before coming back to wash the bedsheets. The sheets were too big to put in the machine, so I had to hand wash them on the tiled stone floor of the bathroom. I scrubbed the stains of sex and bodily activities out furiously before washing and rinsing repeatedly. I was getting quite a work out. Finally, I hung the sheets to dry up on the balcony. I managed to stay out of sight by remaining behind the large sheets. I hung the other clothes to dry on racks inside, close to the windows. I was tempted to punch Prem’s boxers just for symbolic revenge, but realizing the immaturity of such a futile move, I just smiled to myself. I hung them up to dry, but on a separate rung far from Kavita’s panties. I put my own underwear next to my wife’s. Even though I would be only one to witness or understand the symbolism, it felt satisfying nonetheless.
I put new sheets on both beds and swept and mopped the floors before taking a break to have a snack. The weight of carrying around the oranges made my back hurt. I showered and changed into my regular male underwear, trousers, and shirt in preparation to leave, feeling much lighter. I gathered Kavita and Gowri’s shoes in a bag. I surveyed the house, looking at Prem’s room, cleaned of its tawdry history and made ready to become a guest room again. Soon my wife would be in my room again, sleeping with me, in my bed, as my rightful wife. I would once again have an opportunity to make love to her. It was really going to happen. A sense of optimism that I had not felt in months overcame me.
I left to drop off the shoes at a local repair shop. I asked the cobbler to fix and polish both pairs. Then I spent some time at my office to work on my next assignments. I wanted to do some extra work, hoping it would allow me to get ahead and come home a little early next week, so I could spend more time wooing Kavita. I looked at the clock. 5 o’clock. Gowri had probably gone back to her apartment after the movie. Kavita must be home now, alone with Prem. I wondered how their conversation was going, and how she was planning to explain her intentions. Doubts crept over me. What if, instead of having the discussion she planned, she instead got seduced by Prem? Despite Kavita’s resolve, I feared that her resistance could be easily broken. I cringed at the thought of Prem charming her into bed again. I could not focus on work any longer. I left the office.
I walked over to the shoe store. The old guy handed me the pairs for inspection. He had made them look like new again. I paid him, thanked him, and left. I sat at a nearby coffee shop for a while, checking my phone every few minutes for any message from Kavita. It was now approaching 7 o’clock. What could be taking so long I wondered. Any conversation, even a long and drawn out discussion could not have taken so long. My heart sank to the possibility that she might be in his bed, on her back, getting pounded to the heights of orgasmic pleasure. Maybe this was his going away goodbye gift before she moved out. An orgasm that she would never forget. Or was it the other way around? That Kavita was giving Prem a gift. Maybe she was creating a sexual experience that he would never forget, a wild and intense expression of her gratitude to ease the pain of separation. I imagined their bodies pressed against each other, with the A.A. belly ring squeezed between them.
My phone buzzed. I jumped in excitement, losing control of the phone, tossing it up in the air, and ultimately dropping it on the floor. Customers seated at nearby tables turned their heads. I must have looked like a bumbling nervous wreck. I gathered myself and left quickly. But alas, the message was not from Kavita. I stared towards the evening sun, as if to gain sympathy from the heavens above. The message was from Gowri, asking me if her shoes were ready, and if I could bring them to her apartment. Her place was not too far, probably about 10-15 minutes. I confirmed that I would come soon. I made my way over to her place on my scooter. She wouldn’t have expected me to deliver the shoes to her if she knew I was home. That would be too far. That meant that she knew I was still away from home, which meant that she knew Prem was with Kavita. I wonder how much they had shared with her. Maybe they were conspiring to keep me occupied so Prem and Kavita could enjoy their special moment? Could that be why she made up this ploy to get her shoes back right now?
I parked outside the complex at the address Gowri had texted. I took the lift up to her apartment. She invited me in. It was a small but modern looking flat, well decorated. She was dressed in yoga pants and tank top, with her hair tied in a ponytail. She looked sweaty, like she had been exercising. I took her shoes out of the bag to show her. She marveled at how good they looked and thanked me for getting it done. We made some small talk. I asked her about the movie. She gushed about how lovely it was. “Manu, you have to see it! The story, drama, the romance. It’s got great scenery, music too. I don’t know what all the controversy was about. No movie is exactly true to the historical account, but I loved the story…” My eyes had drifted down to her voluptuous breasts, just briefly. Then she abruptly paused, “Manu? Hello!? I’m up here, not down there!” She was waving to me to redirect my attention to her eyes.
I felt so embarrassed. She had called me out. “Sorry, Gowri. I got distracted.” Well that was a stupidly obvious comment to make I thought to myself. Of course, I had gotten mesmerized by her breasts. Just a few hours earlier, I had been sniffing her panties, and now I was standing in front of her getting scolded for looking at her breasts. I corrected myself quickly while making sure to look at her eyes only. “Sorry, Gowri, I suppose I should be heading home soon.”
She replied, “Look, all I’m saying is that I’d appreciate it if you look at me eye to eye when we talk, just like I do with you.” She was not falling for my excuses.
Of course, it made sense. She wanted to be treated like a person, not something to be stared at as an object of purely lustful desire. Yet she often dressed in ways that accentuated her curves and flaunted her sexuality openly, as if to invite the attention. But this was clearly something for Prem to appreciate and apparently for the world at large to see at the gym and movie theaters, but not for me. I was supposed to treat her with respect only. I did not want word of this to get back to Prem and Kavita. Kavita would be jealous and angry with me, with good reason of course. In addition, Prem had been very clear about not even contacting ‘his women’ without his permission. I could only imagine how he’d feel if Gowri told him that she caught me looking at her in a sexually inappropriate way. “I’m really sorry, Gowri, please forgive me,” I replied, looking at her face only.
“Okay, apology accepted. Thank you for understanding,” she replied. Just then I felt my phone vibrate. It was Kavita. It was a brief message saying “Manu, darling, I’ll be done soon.” No smiley face, no heart emojis. Just a plain old message. I indicated to Gowri that I should get going. She told me to wait. “I know that must be Kavita texting you, but gimme a minute. Let me grab my purse.”
“Oh, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” I offered graciously proposing to decline reimbursement for the shining the shoes. Truthfully, I was just eager to return home.
“Manu, please. Let me pay you back. We don’t have to be old-fashioned.” She turned around to get her purse. Out of instinct I glanced at her buttocks, so deliciously well defined by the yoga pants. She spoke out loud as she walked away, “I saw that!” as if she had eyes on the back of her head. I kicked myself, realizing that she must have seen me in the mirror. “Manu, don’t let it happen again. This morning, I let it go,” she taunted, “But if it happens again, you’ll be sorry!” I knew from this morning’s experience with the oranges that Gowri had a mean streak, a bitchy edginess that lurked just beneath her outward appearance of a nice girl. I had sensed it some weeks ago when she had texted me to arrange a time to speak with her, but then ratted me out to Prem for not getting his permission first. She must have known that he would punish me for it at the time. I had no idea what she meant by the threat right now, but I took it seriously as an admonition to behave myself. I focused my eyes to look only at her face.
She asked how much she owed me. It was a nominal amount, but I relented and let her pay me back. Her point was clear. She did not want to feel obligated to me in any way. She was an independent woman, working and living by herself. She didn’t need me and didn’t want my chivalry. I would have to be more careful around this woman lest I get myself in trouble with her fiancé or my wife.
After getting out of Gowri’s apartment, I wondered how Gowri knew that Kavita was texting me. Woman’s intuition? Whatever it was, now I knew for sure that Gowri must have been aware that I was purposely kept away from home by Kavita. Little by little, she was becoming intimately familiar with the dynamics between my wife and me, how I had to dress in women’s clothes and panties at home, and why Prem called me pussy boy. Worst of all, she now knew me as the guy who wears panties, who has a shaved penis, and whose wife knows about it. Gowri probably didn’t know the full reasons, that Prem had blackmailed me into doing it, and that Kavita acquiesced in it. But it hardly mattered now.
I was a man on a mission now. I put the thoughts of Gowri’s mistreatment of me out of my mind as I left. I prepared my scooter. I texted Kavita to let her know I was returning. Her one-line message felt very short and to the point. I texted her again, “Love, is everything okay? How did the big conversation go?” After a couple of minutes, I did not hear anything back. I rode off towards home. Traffic was always dense in Bangalore, but this evening every kilometer felt unusually long to me.
Then I felt my phone buzz. When I stopped at a traffic light, I read the message. “Manu, I’m okay. All is well. Going to retire early. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Love you, Kavita.” Then a second message came, “Please call Prem asap. He wants a word with you. Good night.” It was only 8:30, odd for her to say good night so early. My plans had changed quite suddenly. Her message suggested that she did not expect to see me tonight. I wondered what was going on. She seemed a bit cold and distant, but then she also confirmed that she was looking forward to seeing me tomorrow, and she signed off with a ‘love’ message. There was fair reason for hope. Maybe she just wanted to rest up for the big day tomorrow, and not have to deal with a thousand questions from me tonight. Completely understandable.
As I approached our street, I pulled over to a petrol station to fill up the tank. I decided to call Amir. I wondered, ‘Had he not said and done enough already? What more would he want to say to me?’ I dialed his number with some reluctance. He picked up and addressed me first, “Manu?”
“Yes, Amir?” I replied, pleasantly surprised to hear him call me by my real name for once.
“I’d like to talk. Have you eaten dinner yet?” he asked in his usual gruff voice.
“No, I have not eaten dinner, and I’m starving actually,” I replied truthfully.
“Good. Let’s meet up at the Dosa House and grab some dinner and coffee? Or wherever you like,” he offered.
It was the first time that he appeared to care about whether I ate, or which restaurant. I wondered what was going on. I figured that Gowri could not have complained to him about my behavior so quickly, especially after I apologized to her. Moreover, he seemed to be treating me nicely for a change. I replied that the Dosa House was fine as it one of my favorite local places to eat. I arrived first, and soon he pulled up on his motorcycle too. We sat in a booth across from each other.
We made some small talk about the movie and how they enjoyed lunch together. I asked him if Kavita was all right, and he insisted that she was fine. He did not make any of his usual remarks over what a “fine piece of ass” my wife is. It felt more than a little awkward around Amir in this context, alone with him. We were usually at home in Kavita’s presence. And whenever we were alone, he would usually take the opportunity to taunt me or abuse me in some way. Instead, his snide smirk seemed more subdued. He called me Manu instead of his usual derogatory nickname for me. And he wasn’t bragging about himself or boasting about his ownership over my wife. So, what had changed? As I would soon find out, what changed was everything, and nothing.
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