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My story begins about ten years ago when my husband Vimal had started the Garment Trade. Soon he met a man named Prem who was also in the same business, and he was senior in the field so and my husband became friends. Prem really helped to my husband’s Company. Being the same age as myself, Sajad and Prem had the same ideas about life and Vimal shared ambitions. They both loved the fast pace of commerce and wanted their pots of gold to be plentiful.
Then one day, my husband told me that he wants to invite Prem to our house to share a meal together. He told me that he would not sit in drawing room but in lounge. It was so strange for me as my husband never inviting male guest in the house and he keeps me in vial. I don’t know how he dare to brought male in home. That day was the turning point of my life and the reason I have to write this story. I am bursting to tell you! To tell the whole world in fact!
Maybe at this point I should tell you something about me. I had grown up in a very small town in a very conservative family so I’m a little religious woman, and like me my husband also interested in religion activities. I don’t like to meet male other than our close relatives and I never allowed people to enter my house other than blood relatives.
My body is thin although at the age of 36 and after birth of three c***dren. But have got meat on right places woman should have. My breasts are full and for the most part still as perky as they had been when I was twenty-five. I’m fair skin rather than other Indian women who are dark, with a long nose and regular features though I dressed conservative simply, like most Indian women normally wore shilwar (traditional baggy trousers) Qameez (long traditional shirt) suit.
I wore baggy clothes and used Dupatta (head and neck scarf), d****d around neck and chest to covered myself well. Yet my boobs and bottoms were so generous that they could not be completely hidden from view. I dressed in my finest but a very simple way. A black traditionally qameez (long shirt) with white shilwar (baggy trouser) and a large white Dupatta (head and neck scarf), d****d around my neck and chest to cover my chest in the most decent fashion
Prem was also dressed in a very simple way. White traditionally qameez (long shirt) with white shilwar (baggy trouser). My husband formally introduced me to him, as I had never met him. Prem was tall, slim and in excellent shape with wavy black hair, fair skin, light facial hair and hypnotic black deep, large captivated and powerful eyes, Authoritative personality. He was one of the most incredible men I had ever seen in my entire life........Over the course of the meal Prem was sitting just opposite me at the table. Prem made polite conversation with. He lived alone, because sadly his wife died few years back leaving him with two c***dren who are away from him in boarding school. As he told us that many noble ladies hoped to catch his eye for first two years. But From the time of his wife’s death until this day, the day that he met us he had not looked at another woman. He told us that he had buried himself within his work.
Time seemed to pass more quickly now. My husband and I did not take a lot of time be convinced about Prem that he was not a wife seducer, a trouble-monger of ill repute, but a fine upstanding gentleman with extremely honest, loyal, good and jolly decent manners.
He got closer and closer to our family, I felt something for him from when I first saw him, I couldn’t tell what? I didn’t know what was that sort of fondness, as I never attracted to him or other man sexually as I was always one-man woman not only in my entire life but also in my dreams. No one male impressed me in any way in my life.
So I gave it name of sibling and started call him bhya (brother) and he called me Bhabi (sister-in-law). The c***dren liked him very much. During our meetings, he carefully avoided looking at me. When he spoke to me it was with kindness, respecting my place as his friends wife.
During one meeting, I was watching him, I noted that Prem didn’t wear underwear, as a long, noticeable contour in the inside leg of his shilwar revealed what had to be an eight inch cock at rest. I was getting a turn on thinking of Prem’s masculinity and the enormous size of his manhood. My heart began thumping as I considered what he must be like with a full erection and that was because my husband’s near five inch and thin cock.
Above all these he never give me the real pleasure of sex, he always left me dry and un satisfied in bed but I never give at much attention because of my natural shyness and conservative mind. For most of our sixteen-year’s married life we had treated sex with a reservation. Other than that he was a caring man and a great husband. I had never once regretted marrying.
I don’t want but from that day I was found myself always thinking about Prem and It was when I was in my bed at night; there wasn’t a night when I didn’t think about him. How I stepped into this New World. I was typical conservative Indian housewife with our set of values. I spent a lot of time thinking about him while he probably had no idea that I wanted him so badly. I love him. I had always loved him but I’ve done it in silence. I had been feeling guilty because I dream about best friend of my husband.
At that time my frustrations were so painful when I met Prem I could not look at him because I was frightened of him, frightened of myself, my feelings for him. He never bothered to pester us with uninvited intrusions to our house, although I wanted to meet him every time, every day, but not meet him. I was like a tormented c***d. I had no explanation what this man did to me; all I knew was that I was dying to make this man mine and there was no way in the world it could be possible. I could not foresee any way of achieving that.
Vimal got a huge loss in his business because of over investing when the market was dead. Before he could control, it was too late his business was beyond irretrievably. Vimal had fought his business with everything he had. Then, just as surprising he decided to go to America to seek his fortune. In many respects, it was the best of times and, naturally, the worst of times. But the problem was that he needed to leave us behind all alone during his stay in the states.
My husband Vimal had lost his parents. Although my’ parents were available for our care. But in Indian custom, the parents or relatives of the female would not stay with their daughter and son-in-law. My husband turned to Prem, his very good friend and adopted brother for help. I was a little uncomfortable about this situation because I was not sure how I’d keep distance from Prem, but agreed with my husband after a little argument.
Then one day, my husband told me that he wants to invite Prem to our house to share a meal together. He told me that he would not sit in drawing room but in lounge. It was so strange for me as my husband never inviting male guest in the house and he keeps me in vial. I don’t know how he dare to brought male in home. That day was the turning point of my life and the reason I have to write this story. I am bursting to tell you! To tell the whole world in fact!
Maybe at this point I should tell you something about me. I had grown up in a very small town in a very conservative family so I’m a little religious woman, and like me my husband also interested in religion activities. I don’t like to meet male other than our close relatives and I never allowed people to enter my house other than blood relatives.
My body is thin although at the age of 36 and after birth of three c***dren. But have got meat on right places woman should have. My breasts are full and for the most part still as perky as they had been when I was twenty-five. I’m fair skin rather than other Indian women who are dark, with a long nose and regular features though I dressed conservative simply, like most Indian women normally wore shilwar (traditional baggy trousers) Qameez (long traditional shirt) suit.
I wore baggy clothes and used Dupatta (head and neck scarf), d****d around neck and chest to covered myself well. Yet my boobs and bottoms were so generous that they could not be completely hidden from view. I dressed in my finest but a very simple way. A black traditionally qameez (long shirt) with white shilwar (baggy trouser) and a large white Dupatta (head and neck scarf), d****d around my neck and chest to cover my chest in the most decent fashion
Prem was also dressed in a very simple way. White traditionally qameez (long shirt) with white shilwar (baggy trouser). My husband formally introduced me to him, as I had never met him. Prem was tall, slim and in excellent shape with wavy black hair, fair skin, light facial hair and hypnotic black deep, large captivated and powerful eyes, Authoritative personality. He was one of the most incredible men I had ever seen in my entire life........Over the course of the meal Prem was sitting just opposite me at the table. Prem made polite conversation with. He lived alone, because sadly his wife died few years back leaving him with two c***dren who are away from him in boarding school. As he told us that many noble ladies hoped to catch his eye for first two years. But From the time of his wife’s death until this day, the day that he met us he had not looked at another woman. He told us that he had buried himself within his work.
Time seemed to pass more quickly now. My husband and I did not take a lot of time be convinced about Prem that he was not a wife seducer, a trouble-monger of ill repute, but a fine upstanding gentleman with extremely honest, loyal, good and jolly decent manners.
He got closer and closer to our family, I felt something for him from when I first saw him, I couldn’t tell what? I didn’t know what was that sort of fondness, as I never attracted to him or other man sexually as I was always one-man woman not only in my entire life but also in my dreams. No one male impressed me in any way in my life.
So I gave it name of sibling and started call him bhya (brother) and he called me Bhabi (sister-in-law). The c***dren liked him very much. During our meetings, he carefully avoided looking at me. When he spoke to me it was with kindness, respecting my place as his friends wife.
During one meeting, I was watching him, I noted that Prem didn’t wear underwear, as a long, noticeable contour in the inside leg of his shilwar revealed what had to be an eight inch cock at rest. I was getting a turn on thinking of Prem’s masculinity and the enormous size of his manhood. My heart began thumping as I considered what he must be like with a full erection and that was because my husband’s near five inch and thin cock.
Above all these he never give me the real pleasure of sex, he always left me dry and un satisfied in bed but I never give at much attention because of my natural shyness and conservative mind. For most of our sixteen-year’s married life we had treated sex with a reservation. Other than that he was a caring man and a great husband. I had never once regretted marrying.
I don’t want but from that day I was found myself always thinking about Prem and It was when I was in my bed at night; there wasn’t a night when I didn’t think about him. How I stepped into this New World. I was typical conservative Indian housewife with our set of values. I spent a lot of time thinking about him while he probably had no idea that I wanted him so badly. I love him. I had always loved him but I’ve done it in silence. I had been feeling guilty because I dream about best friend of my husband.
At that time my frustrations were so painful when I met Prem I could not look at him because I was frightened of him, frightened of myself, my feelings for him. He never bothered to pester us with uninvited intrusions to our house, although I wanted to meet him every time, every day, but not meet him. I was like a tormented c***d. I had no explanation what this man did to me; all I knew was that I was dying to make this man mine and there was no way in the world it could be possible. I could not foresee any way of achieving that.
Vimal got a huge loss in his business because of over investing when the market was dead. Before he could control, it was too late his business was beyond irretrievably. Vimal had fought his business with everything he had. Then, just as surprising he decided to go to America to seek his fortune. In many respects, it was the best of times and, naturally, the worst of times. But the problem was that he needed to leave us behind all alone during his stay in the states.
My husband Vimal had lost his parents. Although my’ parents were available for our care. But in Indian custom, the parents or relatives of the female would not stay with their daughter and son-in-law. My husband turned to Prem, his very good friend and adopted brother for help. I was a little uncomfortable about this situation because I was not sure how I’d keep distance from Prem, but agreed with my husband after a little argument.
Josephina
- 01.11.2020
- 13
- 0
