Indian Wife in the Prison of Spring
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Indian Wife In The Prison Of Spring Ch. 02 free porn video
Day 57
That morning, as she got Pinky ready for school for Amar ready for work, made breakfast, and packed lunch for the two of them, Mansi kept checking her phone every few minutes. She wasn’t sure why she was doing that. Duttsahab never messaged her that early. But the two months had made her realize how much she missed his company. And how much she was looking forward to seeing him again.
As the events described above unfolded, she realized many more things about herself and her life.
Most importantly, she realized how much that short but intense experience with Duttsahab in his suite had added to her self-actualization in terms of sexuality. Until now, she had learned a lot from him, from matters of art to using chopsticks to general behavior in high society. That experience in that hotel suite had for the first time, expanded her horizons sexually. Although in its immediate aftermath, she felt conflicted and guilty, as time went by, she came to terms with it. She started exploring her own body and discovered the pleasures it could offer her. Now, she was not as encumbered by the thoughts of morality and propriety as she wondered what Duttsahab had planned next.
Secondly, she realized how important money was in her life now. And how much its absence could sting. In the first two months that she had known Duttsahab, the cash was always flowing in, and it helped her enhance her lifestyle and make her family happier. Especially her daughter. But the two months since, when the cash flow had dried up, she found herself returning to that same old famished state. When a bulk of Amar’s modest professor’s salary went towards their two biggest expenses – a Mumbai rent and Pinky’s exorbitant school fees. Whatever was left was enough for an austere existence, but not enough to fully relish life, much less save for Pinky’s future.
So unable to cut back on her newfound splurging lifestyle, she had ended up exhausting almost all the money she had managed to add to the college account. Amar was never going to change jobs. So it was up to her to keep earning and ensure her family’s wellbeing and especially, her daughter’s happiness, both present and future. So just from that perspective, no matter what her slowly disappearing reservations about morality, she had to continue her association with Dutt for the greater good of her family.
And thirdly, she was finding herself getting more and more dissatisfied with Amar. And not just in bed, although that was part of it. Before the chance encounter with Reena thrust her into this new world, Mansi had been mostly content with the hand fate had dealt her. She had always known that she would end up marrying the man her parents chose and the rest of her life would be dedicated to running his household. She knew she would never have a career and her own tastes or interests didn’t really matter.
But through Dutt, she had experienced a different reality. Where she was exposed to a wider and more interesting world. Where her own tastes, her own desires, her own interests got some breathing room. And the more she realized that, the more she started resenting Amar. She saw that for him, she was just a glorified maid and babysitter that he also occasionally had sex with. She always did what he wanted, but the one time she said no, she doesn’t feel like having sex, he made her do it anyway. That still rankled.
So it was a much more composed Mansi, having had all these epiphanies, who kept checking her phone that morning. She knew in her mind that Dutt would probably want to take things further. And she herself would not mind it. And it would mean cheating on her husband. But taking a sum total of all the epiphanies, she had, well, why not?
It was a little past 11. Mansi had taken a bath, masturbating a few times in the process. She came out of the bathroom and checked her phone. There was an SMS from Dutt.
– 11:30
That’s all it said. She was a bit nonplussed. usually he added more detail. Maybe he was busy catching up with work after his Europe visit, she told herself. Drying her naked body, she went to the cupboard. What should she wear? She thought about wearing one of the western clothes he had bought her. But eventually decided on a sari.
‘Going to work, Mansi?’ Deshmukh aunty asked.
‘Yes, aunty.’ she said, climbing down the stairs.
At 11:25, she was waiting for the car. It pulled up at 11:40. Purposely late, as per Dutt’s instructions.
‘How was your…’ Mansi started saying as as opened the door and got in. And stopped. There was no one there.
She heard a whirring sound. The partition separating her from the driver’s cabin lowered.
‘Good morning, ma’am.’ the driver said politely. ‘I am to take you to the hotel.’
‘Oh…okay. Where is…’ she started saying, but the partition had been closed again.
Mansi sat in the car as it sped towards Malad. She was a little surprised at being picked up like this alone. Usually, he was always in the car. Again she told herself, maybe he is busy catching up with work after his foreign trip.
The limo reached the hotel in Malad. The driver opened the door, and said,
‘You know his usual suite, right?’
There was a slight hint of condescension in that question. But Mansi ignored it and nodded.
She walked into the lobby. This was the first time she had been there since that fateful day. Very little had changed, except for a new sculpture in the corner. There were still well-dressed people milling about. And a small line in front of the reception. She walked to the lift and went up to the same suite as last time. She knocked on the door.
‘Yes?’ a young man opened the door.
‘Oh!’ she shrank back seeing the unfamiliar face and got a sense of deja vu.
‘Are you…Mansi?’ he asked uncertainly.
‘Yes.’
‘Please come in.’ he opened the door. ‘Dutt sir is on a conference call.’
Mansi walked into a suite full of half a dozen people with laptops or tablets on their laps. Everyone was immaculately dressed in western clothing, including two young women, one of whom was sitting in the same single loveseat that she had been sitting in. Dutt was standing by the side with a headpiece on, back towards her, busy in conversation about business.
The young housewife felt after months that same old sense of not belonging where she was. She stood where she was uncertainly, not sure about what to do. When she came here, she wasn’t expecting such a big crowd. A few of them looked at her with blank expressions before looking at their screens again. What, she wondered, did they make of her presence there?
‘One second.’ Dutt said tapping a button on his headpiece, and said. ‘Mansi, you’re here.’
She just nodded.
‘Wait in the bedroom.’ she said and resumed his call.
Blushing a little, Mansi walked towards the suite’s bedroom. From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a few of the people sitting there, including both women smile and exchange knowing glances. That made Mansi uncomfortable and also a little angry. What did they think she was?
Mansi walked into the bedroom, but left the door open. She could overhear snippets of conversations. It was mostly business jargon that she had no idea about. She looked around the bedroom. Just like the suite, it was artfully decorated. There was a huge king bed with a couple of night stands. A glass desk and a chair. And there was a big screen TV. Mansi waited for a few minutes. Then sat down on the bed and turned the TV on, flipping through the channels.
She felt considerably more self-assured now than she was the last time she was in this suite. But these new circumstances made her doubt herself a little. The way some of those people had looked at her when Dutt told her to wait in the bedroom…she blushed again. But she tried to put it out of her mind and watch TV. She could hear that the conversations outside were getti
ng lower and lower in volume and frequency.
About an hour passed like that.
And then she heard a door close. She had been intently watching a news bulletin when she heard that sound. Immediately she got up from the bed.
‘Duttsahab.’ she said in a soft voice.
‘Hello, Mansi. How are you?’ he asked in a businesslike voice, taking the headpiece off.
‘I am fine.’ she said. ‘How was Europe?’
‘Europe was Europe.’ he shrugged.
She watched as he then took off his suit jacket, carefully folded it and placed it on one of the nightstands. She watched as he took his watch off. And then took his tie off. Was this…was this it, she wondered.
‘Which countries did you visit? I have always wanted to visit Switzerland.’ she said trying to fill the awkward silence in the room.
As she said this, he walked slowly towards her. She felt a little uncomfortable as he stepped right in front of her.
‘You look even more gorgeous than I remember.’ he said.
She felt his big burly arms wrap her in an embrace. She had an instinctive reaction to push him away but she fought it. And placed her hands on his side. And then she saw his wrinkled puffy face come closer, with his lips puckered. She puckered her own lips.
And they were kissing.
–
Mansi was getting a masterclass in the art of kissing. With Amar, the kisses were almost perfunctory. He put his lips on hers, pressed and rolled a bit, the that was it. Dutt however was very skilled. He started by slowly brushing his lips against her, sideways, then up and down. He then placed tiny kisses all along the perimeter of her lips a couple of times. Even in that, he noticed that she seemed completely amateur in this. She just kept trying to respond with fish style lips. And she seemed tense.
He placed one hand under her jaw and gently massaged it to make her relax. That touch had an effect and he felt her exhale and her lips parted. Then he aligned his lips perpendicular to hers and softly started kissing her. Mansi felt a surge of passionate pleasure as the proper kissing started. She responded, mimicking his movements. He moved his hand from under her jaw to behind her head and pulled her in ever so slightly. And every few seconds he moved her head gradually tilting left and then right.
She felt weird when his tongue started probing her mouth. But soon she got used to it. And her own tongue started responding. She noticed that although this kiss was passionate and lasting such a long time, it wasn’t a slobbery saliva-filled experience like with Amar. She then felt Duttsahab’s other hand move from behind her back to her exposed side under her blouse. He gently stroked her skin, moving towards the front, stroking her stomach.
And then she felt his fingers deftly pull out the folds of the sari tucked into her petticoat waist. She was a little surprised and also impressed at this move. On the odd occasion that Amar took her sari off before sex, he did it the conventional way – pulling down her pallu and unwrapping all the folds. But the experienced Dutt with that one simple move had made half the sari unravel. He dug his fingers into her waist again and pulled out some more of the fabric and gave it a hard tug. And within seconds, the sari collapsed in a heap around her ankles, the pallu sliding down between their bodies.
Dutt felt Mansi inhale sharply even in the kiss and felt her fingers tightly grip his arms. He broke the kiss and raised his head. Mansi’s hand went down and clasped her waist and thighs as if to confirm that she really had been divested of her sari so quickly. She looked into his eyes, surprised. He smiled. She shyly smiled back. And blushed as it hit her that she was now standing there in a blouse and petticoat in the arms of the burly old man.
Dutt’s hand had been stroking her flat stomach all this while. He let her get used to being sariless for a few seconds and then quickly tugged at the knot of her petticoat. Soon, it too was lying in a heap and her legs were exposed. Such shapely legs they were. And she was wearing very simple, almost too modest panties. he made a mental note to buy her fancier underwear and lingerie.
Even though Mansi knew where things were going, standing there with nothing below her waist but panties made her feel very conscious and shy. Instinctively, she hugged Duttsahab and hid her face in his chest. His paunch pressed against her flat stomach. He smiled and wrapped his arms around her, gently stroking her back to make her relaxed. They stood like that for a while, hugging and stroking each others backs. And soon Mansi started noticing it. The pressure against her thigh. He was getting aroused. And feeling it so close unnerved her.
She reflexively tried to pull away but Dutt held her pinned to him. And then putting his hands on her sides, effortlessly lifted her up a few feet off the ground.
‘Hhhhha!’ Mansi sighed in surprise as she felt her feet being lifted from the pile of fabric around them. And then giggle as he threw her on the bed.
Mansi was talking big steps, but was at heart still a demure middle class girl. She looked at the bulge forming in Dutt’s pants and immediately covered her face with her hands shyly and closed her eyes.
Dutt chuckled at this. It amused and aroused him how this married woman, the mother of a 7 year old, was still so tender and innocent, almost virginal. Watching her laying on the bed, admiring the shapely smooth legs and the heaving mounds under her blouse, he slowly slipped off his shirt and undershirt. Then he took off his pants and got on the bed wearing just boxer shorts.
Mansi felt the mattress move as the big old guy got on the bed. She was still covering her face. And having a few conflicting thoughts. But the part of her saying she shouldn’t be doing this was getting smaller and smaller.
She felt her right ankle being grabbed and pulled up. And just like last time, she felt his tongue and lips on her toes. Then the other leg was lifted. And then her legs were pressed together but folded in the knees as Dutt sat on the bed sucking her toes one at a time, massaging her calves. He smiled when he saw one hand leave Mansi’s face. her eyes were still closed, but that right hand, as if moving my itself, slipped into her panties.
He was amused to see her playing with her clit so shamelessly. He let her do it for a few while and then sharply said,
‘Don’t do that!’
her hand stopped. Then left her panties and lay limply by her side. Dutt let go of her legs and slid upwards, grabbing that hand. He started licking her fingers one by one, really hard, just like the toes, and stroked the back of her upper arm. That gave Mansi goosebumps. She had no idea something as banal as the back of your arm, if stroked properly, could make her feel excited.
Dutt took her other hand and repeated the procedure. Her eyes were still closed, but her face wore a happy smile. he looked at those luscious lips and was eager to see them wrapped around his dick. But he assumed, correctly, that she had probably never given a blowjob in her life. So he decided to leave it for later.
Mansi felt her hands being let go. And then she felt his fingers at the front of her blouse, unhooking it. Finally, she thought to herself, he is paying attention to her breasts. She she was in for a surprise. Once Dutt opened the blouse completely, he rolled her over on her stomach. No interest in her larger than average boobs, she wondered. His hands tugged at her blouse. She raised her arms so he could pull it off.
She then felt his stubble and lips as they started kissing her back, starting at her waist. She didn’t know that Dutt had this technique for first time seductions. Arouse a woman by stimulating all the other parts of her body before moving to the ‘main’ items. This makes her almost anticipate it and long for it, and when it happens, she feels thankful.
As his lips planted kisses all over bac
k back and shoulders, his fingers, she noticed, were stroking the back of her thighs. Not her butt or her private parts, but her thighs. And yet it was filling her with a surge of arousal. She felt his teeth stop at her bra. Then she had an odd sensation as she felt he was biting her bra. And suddenly it loosened. This really amazed her. Amar had to make half a dozen attempts even with his fingers to unhook her bra. And this old man had done it with one motion of his teeth.
Dutt unhooked the bra, but didn’t take it off. He let it rest like that between her boobs and the bed. Now for all practical purposes, the only item of clothing on her body was her panties. She wondered when they would come off. She felt a fire in her loins and was desperate for release.
But Dutt was in no hurry.
–
She felt him straddle her, knees on either side of her waist. She then sensed him moving lower until he was at her feet. And then she felt his thick raspy tongue at the bottom of her middle left toe. She cringed a little as his tongue started moving up the bottom of her feet. What was he doing? That part was unclean. But thoughts of hygiene were soon replaced by arousal as the tongue slowly made its way up the back of her left leg. Parallely, his fingers were stroking the same path up her right leg. When he crossed her calved and the back of her knee, she shivered. When it started going up her back with the fingers in tandem. She shuddered.
‘Ohhh god!!’ she softly said as the tongue gently flicked her shoulder blades and made its way to the back of her neck.
And when he kicked her neck ending at the back of her ear, she was shocked. Her body started vibrating and her loins were on fire. Was she…was shaving an…
‘Ahhhhhhhhhh!’
Mansi cried out as her body quaked through a small orgasm. Dutt kept licking and stroking her neck throughout, feeling very proud of himself. This didn’t happen very often. In the dozens of women he had bedded over the years, he had managed to make only a couple of them have an orgasm by just stimulating the other parts of their body. Much like Mansi, they had been inexperienced and often sex starved repressed women. He had hoped to be able to add Mansi to the list and he had succeeded.
‘Wha…wha…’ Mansi said confused. The orgasm hadn’t been as big as the ones she had using her fingers or the phone on her clit. But it was a wave of pleasure nonetheless. Was this man a magician, managing to do it without once touching her down there?
He let her come to terms with the orgasm for a few seconds and then pulled her by the shoulder to turn her over. Her eyes were now open and a bit glazed, staring at her elderly lover. The unhooked bra stayed on the bed and Mansi’s breasts were revealed for the first time. He was impressed. They were big, but with no sad. Firmly shaped, and with prominent pink nipples which were rock hard. And nestled in her cleavage, was her simple mangalsutra.
‘Take your panties off.’
This was another ritual he followed with first seductions. He may take off all other items of clothing, but he always asked the woman to take off the panties herself. To make her realize, consciously or subconsciously, that she was the one who wanted this.
Mansi put her thumbs in the waistband and hesitated for a few seconds. She had come very far already, farther than she could have imagined a few months ago. But this really was the last step. If she went through with this, she would be completely naked, in the company of a man who was not her husband. She had a moment of doubt. But then her eyes fell on the big tent formed in his boxers, and she knew she wanted it.
Dutt watched triumphantly as the once demure and chaste housewife raise her legs and slipped off the last vestige of modesty and fidelity from her body. He got a glimpse of how smooth and perfectly shaped her buttocks were. How her thighs were free of any cellulite or flab. And finally, her pussy.
She had a naturally sparse bush down there, which he appreciated. Many of the Indian women he slept with had such a thick jungle down there that it looked unseemly. Mansi was blessed with a more attractive set of public hair.
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