Karma
I woke up late one night feeling uneasy. I realised that I was alone on the roll up mattress, which my wife, Diptee and I, shared as a bed in the small servant quarters, behind the bungalow of the wealthy Kapoor family.
I was worried and sat up. Perhaps Diptee was in the latrine. I waited; but after 20 or so minutes I was more worried as she had not returned.
Tying my lungi (Rectangular strip of home spun cloth worn like a skirt) around my naked body I opened the door and went out into the humid night air. Diptee was not in the latrine or even outside it.
I walked quietly up the path of the Kapoor’s large back garden and nervously approached the door of the kitchen and looked in through the mosquito netted window. Diptee was not there.
I was unsure what to do, when suddenly, the kitchen light went on and I saw Mr. Kapoor walk naked into the kitchen and take something from the fridge. He didn’t notice me standing in the darkness outside the door.
I was surprised to see Mr. Kapoor nude. He has a slight paunch and a Typical Brahmin fair complexion. I thought that rich people with air conditioners and fans didn’t need to sleep naked like we did.
There was the sound of voices, and then a man I recognised only as Mr. Kapoor’s friend came into the kitchen. He was also naked but unlike Kapoor sahib, he was shaved around his privates and had an erection. Like Kapoor sahib, he was fairer skinned then me with a hairy chest and thick legs.
Mr. Kapoor laughed and pointed at it saying “Yaar! Isko ziyar Na karo. Jao iski choot ki under dahlo Na!” (Dude! Don’t waste it. Go and put it in her pussy).
“Fikar mutt karo yaar” The friend said with a laugh “Iski choot khai nahin jari hai” (Don’t worry, dude. Her pussy isn’t going anywhere).
A third voice called out sweetly from inside the bungalow. I recognised the voice at once, its rural accent familiar to my ears
It was my wife’s voice saying “Sahibjee mai jao?” (Sir, should I go?)
“Ari Diptee Kamal go chaudney do pehli” (Hey Diptee let Kamal fuck you first) Mr Kapoor called back pushing Kamal through the door back into the bungalow.
I listened in shock to this exchange. My mind swirling with confusion and alarm. What was going on in there?
I went around the bungalow and seeing a lighted window went over to it and looked in.
There on the bed I saw a sight I had never thought I would see in this life….
Diptee, my 20 year old wife was on her back, naked with Mr. Kamal on her. His hips were moving between my wife’s dark brown thighs. His light brown ass heaving up and down between her raised legs and I saw clearly that he was fucking her. I could actually see his Lund piston in and out of my wife’s choot (cunt) as he squeezed and sucked her large brown breasts.
Mr. Kapoor was sitting there in an armchair beside the bed, smiling and talking in English to Mr Kamal. I could hear what they were saying but I don’t understand English. Still, you don’t need to know a language to understand what the conversation was about. They were discussing Diptee and fucking her.
I saw Kamal sahib give a few final thrusts and stop. He had obviously come in my wife. Kamal sahib gave Diptee a tight slap on her brown ass and as she squealed in mock pain and pouted, he pulled out of her and stood up.
“Zabadast Diptee” (Excellent Diptee) He said shaking his Lund and wiping the tip of it with his palm.
“Maza aiya Sahibjee” (You enjoyed it sir) Diptee asked rubbing her choot dry with a tissue
“Ari haramey bukh-bukh nahin karo. Kamal hut jao pechey” (Hey you fuckers, stop chatting. Kamal move out of the way) Kapoor sahib said as he climbed onto Diptee’s sweat glistening brown body and guiding his Lund into her choot using his hand, started fucking her.
I saw Diptee laugh and pinch Mr. Kapoor’s face playfully as he started to pump her. His light brown hands taking firm hold of her dark brown buttocks as he rammed her again and again with his Lund.
Kamal sahib stood watching and making remarks in English that I didn’t understand.
I backed away from the window and walked slowly and quietly back to the servant’s quarters.
What had I done to offend the Gods so badly?
Until eight months ago, I had lived with my parents and brothers and sister-in-laws on the land my family had farmed since time began. Simple farmers with simple needs. But the monsoons had failed twice and debt had forced us off the land into the City of Bangalore.
I thought my luck had changed when we found employment as live-in-servants at the Kapoor’s house. They were very rich and very kind to us.
Now I had found my wife under Mr Kapoor and his friend being fucked and what was perhaps worse, enjoying it.
I didn’t sleep but lay down on the mattress and waited for Diptee to return.
Maybe an hour later, she sneaked quietly into the room and whispered “Raj?” my name. I pretended to be asleep. She quietly opened the steel trunk that contained all our possessions and took something out. After a few minutes she put it back and closed the trunk and locked it. She quickly lay down beside me and went to sleep.
Next morning I woke up not sure when I had actually fallen asleep.
Diptee was already up. It was past 6 am and the household chores would have started. Remembering what I had seen and looking at the steel trunk, I opened it and slowly searched it careful not to make it obvious that I had been in it.
After 15 or 20 minutes I found an old biscuit tin, wrapped in an old sari. I unwrapped the tin and looked at it. I had never seen it before. We certainly didn’t eat biscuits that came in tins. Factory rejects bought by the kilo from pushcarts, was the most we could afford.
I opened the tin and stared in shock at the contents. There were neatly tied wads of currency notes. Sorted by denomination. I counted them. There was over Rs.32,000.00 there. That was more money then I had ever held in my hands at one time. It was more then we could have saved in 8 months. More then we could have saved in 28 months.
I sat down and stared at the money. The evidence was clear. My wife was a whore who fucked for money.
The whole day, as I swept the driveway, watered the plants and weeded the flower beds I could only see Diptee bucking underneath Kamal and Kapoor sahib. My mind was just numb with the shock of it all.
At 1pm Diptee brought me my food and we sat together under a large banyan tree. She fanned me with a bamboo fan as I quietly ate my Dall and rice. It was just like old times on the farm. She talked as if nothing had happened and I listened without hearing a word she said.
That afternoon, instead of taking my usual afternoon nap, I walked slowly to the local temple and prayed and meditated.
The Kapoors were rich and powerful. They had given me a job when I had none. They had fed me when I had gone without food for days. Diptee had obviously not been forced to do anything. She was obviously paid for her services. She seemed to be willingly lying there on Kapoor sahib’s bed. Taking his and Kamal sahibs spunk and cash.
Now what should I do? What could I do?
Only when you have been hungry, homeless and penniless can you understand how desperate you can become when faced with the choice of losing food and shelter in order to save your honour. There is no honour in starvation.
Kapoor and even Kamal sahib were handsome men. Tall, fair and untarnished by hard physical labour and poor medical care. I could understand how my wife would be attracted to them but both men at the same time?
On my way home from the temple, I past through the red light area. It was really not on my route but my mind seemed to be on auto pilot. I bought a pack of condoms from the street vender and looked at the numerous doors and balconies where women of all shades, from every corner of south Asia stood offering themselves.
I stopped at an open doorway where a Nepali looking girl made eyes at me. A few minutes later, we were on a charpoy (bed) fucking. My dark rough hands holding onto the cool soft buttocks of the yellowish brown whore as I pressed my face to the small buds of her firm breasts and thought of Kamal sahib fucking my wife. The small room, we were in, was partitioned by a curtain and from behind the curtain came rhythmic fucking sounds as another prostitute took care of a client. I sent my lund into her shaven choot wildly and roughly but she didn’t seem to notice. Her pussy was hot and wet but her eyes were expressionless as I came in her. As I left the house, She took up position again leaning against the door making eyes at passing men, young and old. As I turned the corner of the street, I saw her lead a man into her house. another client, another fuck. Were Kapoor sahib and his friend only that to Diptee? Was I? I had thought that fucking another woman would help ease the tension in my head but it hadn’t. I had just spent money.
That night as I lay half asleep beside Diptee, I felt her get up.
“Ram” (my name) She said “Ram?” asked shaking me gently. She leaned in close; I could feel her breath on my face as she whispered “Ram?”
I pretended to be asleep and ignored her. She got up quickly and I heard the door quietly open and close as she left our quarters.
I waited a few minutes. Listening for any sound that she was still near. Silence.
I got up and followed her up the path, careful to make sure she did not see me.
I saw her enter the bungalow through the kitchen door and walked slowly around the bungalow to the window of Kapoor’s bedroom.
There was a light on and through a gap in the curtains; I saw a man and woman having sex.
The woman was astride the man’s hips bouncing up and down on his lund as he slapped her buttocks and panted.
Something was wrong though. The fair skinned woman happily riding the lund was not my wife. I suddenly realised that I was watching Mrs. Pinkie Kapoor having sex with her husband.
I had instinctively stepped backwards as I realised this, but then thinking that Kapoor sahib had screwed my wife, I therefore could at least watch his wife buck naked and eagerly on his cock, I moved back to the window and peeped in.
As I watched Mrs. Kapoor’s well filled out figure with its milky white skin glisten and shine as she fucked, I wondered why Kapoor sahib would take my wife when his wife was so very sexy. Diptee is a very attractive woman, Large dark eyes, small full lips and a great body but like most South Asians, I liked my women fair.
I heard Mrs. Kapoor pant and groan and collapse in obvious orgasm against her husband.
The man grabbed her tightly and roughly rolled her onto her back with his cock still deeply embedded in her pussy. Then the head of the man, which had been hidden from my view by a bedside lamp, and who I had thought was Mr Kapoor, was clearly visible.
The man was in a yellow Turban, a Sikh Turban. I recognised him as Sahibs friend Gopal Sahib. Gopal rammed and screwed Mrs Kapoor like I had screwed the Nepali prostitute, Making her ass bounce and her large breast wobble as his tool pistoned in and out of her sparsely haired cunt.
Suddenly a naked Kapoor sahib came in and started shouting. But he wasn’t angry. He was shouting for Kamal sahib and my wife and another girl, I recognised as Gopal’s wife, to come and watch the show. The other three came in, also naked, with Diptee’s breasts being squeezed and fondled freely by Kamal sahib.
They all formed a circle around the fucking couple and laughed and urged Gopal on in his efforts. I noticed that Kapoor sahib was busy fingering Diptee’s choot and kissing her neck as he stood behind her and pressed his erect lund against her back.
Gopal sahib came with a cry of pleasure and a string of Punjabi words I didn’t understand.
Then as he got off Mrs. Kapoor, Mrs Bhindhi. Gopal knelt between Mrs. Kapoors legs and started fingering and licking her cunt.
I realised that Mrs. Gopal was sucking the cum of her own husband out of Mrs Kapoor’s choot.
Kamal Sahib was not inactive, giving Mr Gopal a ‘high five’, he got behind Mrs Gopal and brutally aimed and thrust his Lund into her very hairy bush.
Mrs Gopal was a darker skinned woman then Mrs. Kapoor but still much lighter then Diptee. Unlike Diptee, she had a thick bush of pubic hair clearly visible in the kneeling position she was in.
Kamal sahib was really fucking Mrs Gopal hard. So hard that she stopped sucking Mrs. Kapoor’s cunt and began squeezing and mauling her own breasts and nipples, as she groaned and panted in pleasure..
I then saw Kapoor sahib disappear into the bathroom as Gopal Sahib kissed and mauled Diptee’s breasts. Diptee was busy pulling and fondling his semi hard cock with its thick hairy carpet of pubic hair back to fuck capability.
Kapoor returned with a bottle of something. He squirted some of the contents out onto his palm and then massaged his erect cock thoroughly with it.
I saw Diptee shake her head and back away.
Kapoor laughed and said” Ari Diptee. Is sai kutch nahin hota”
“Nahin Sahib” Diptee replied “Is sai board dard hota.”
Gopal sahib laughed and said “Acchha Masoom Ram itna masoom nahin hai. Ab ki gaand be marta” (So innocent Ram isn’t so innocent…he fucks your ass too).
I waited for Diptee to deny it but she didn’t.
Kapoor sahib pulled Diptee into an embrace and hugged her like a loving father would console a daughter. It was almost possible to ignore the fact that they were both naked and Kapoor’s lund was up erect and throbbing against my wife’s firm brown tummy.
He whispered something into her ear and she nodded and to my astonishment, bent forward with her hands on her knees and her legs parted.
She was quiet as Kapoor sahib poured what I thought must be oil from the bottle over her butt crack.
He smeared it with his fingers and the I saw him poke his index finger into her.
“Ari yaar!” Kapoor said to Gopal who was watching the whole operation with great interest. “Ram nai is ki gaand ko pardiya” (Hey Dude. Ram has really busted her ass open).
The news made my knees almost give way under me. I had never entered my wife that way. Yes, I had fucked her from behind many times but always in the pussy never the ass.
Kamal sahib was finishing his screwing of Mrs. Gopal with a series of deep hard thrust that left her sobbing in pleasure, I was sure.
As Kapoor sahib took up position behind her, the whole act was taking place so close to the window that I would have stretched out my hand and squeezed her breast, if it wasn’t for the mosquito netting on the window, I had a close view of the whole thing.
The fact that no one noticed me staring through the gap in the curtains showed their confidence in being secluded and also their fixation on what they were doing.
Diptee gasped as Kapoor sahib thrust into her asshole. I could not actually see the penetration but the look on both their faces told me that he was entering her gaand.
“Kapoorji” Gopal said hotly, trying to persuade Diptee to take his lund into her mouth. “Jaldi karo ji. Is ki gaand board mazidaar lugdi” (Hurry up. Her ass looks like a lot of fun)
I watched as Kapoor sahib began to pump Diptee’s ass. Slowly at first. Very gently. Whispering sweet words to her as slowly he picked up pace.
He was soon fucking her ass with hard deep thrusts. Each bringing a squeal from Diptee’s quivering lips.
“ahhh ahhh Ohhh oooooooooooooooh: Diptee moaned
“Lugda hai kay Ram nay sai tara nahin chauda is ki gaand, Kapoorji” (Looks like Ram has not fucked her ass properly Kapoor) Gopal said squeezing Diptee’s tits as she held onto his prick.
Kapoor was really pumping now; Gopal had to hold onto Diptee to stop her falling forward from the force of his thrusts.
“Oooooooooooooooh Sanjuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu! “Diptee moaned as Kapoor filled her ass with his lund one last time and came.
My heart skipped a beat. Sanju, my brother, Sanjay’s nickname. Why had she called out his name as Kapoor came?
I was not the only one to catch it.
“Sanju?” Gopal asked with a laugh, taking my panting sweating wife in his arms and lifting her up with ease.
“Bol khuria, yeh Sanju korn hai” (Tell me girl, who is Sanju) Gopal asked planting a kiss on Diptee’s face.
As Gopal sahib lifted her up I heard Mrs Kapoor giggle and saw that Kamal and Mrs Gopal were busy teasing her and each other as the lay on the bed. Mr Kapoor had gone into the attached bathroom after uncorking his lund from Diptee.
Gopal slapped Diptee’s ass playfully and asked her again who Sanju was.
Diptee whispered into his ear and he laughed.
“Yeh do hota hai! Bhai hamaisah upne barbhi ki pechey lugjatae” (That always happens! A brother always gets after his sister-in-law) Gopal said putting Diptee down and turning her away from him, her ass against his prick as he added “Ao Diptee Baji, ab ka Gopal bhai ko be gaand do” (Come on Diptee now give your Gopal brother some ass too).
Gopal sahib asked Diptee if Sanjay had screwed her before her marriage.
“Nahin Sahib! Hum essi-wessi log nahin hai” (no sir! We aren’t those type of people) She said waving her hand dismissively.
“Essi Wessi log” (Those people) Gopal said with a laugh of derision.
“Ari chall gaand idhar do meri masoom rani” (Oh come, get your ass into position my innocent queen) Gopal said gently slapping her butt.
Diptee laughed and rubbed her buttocks hard against his Lund saying “Laikin Sanjay nai roz roz meri gaand ko chauda, shaadi sai pehli aur shaadi ki bard.” (But Sanjay fucked my ass daily before and after marriage) “Aur Tu nai buri shork sai gaand mariya ainna? “(And you happily gave your ass right?) Gopal said with a tight slap on her ass.
I backed away from the window as Gopal thrust his lund hard and fast into Diptee’s ass. I was actually willing him to be rough. I hated my wife. She was not only screwing my employer and his friends but had been butt fucked by my own brother. Who knew how many other men had had her.
As I heard her moan and gasp and heard Gopal abuse her lustfully in Punjabi, My heart though would not harden to her. I made up my mind that I would stay with her. Like I said earlier, there is no honour in starvation. Diptee was just making sure there would be a safety net for us. But she had screwed Sanju and that I was sure had not been a cash transaction. For that I would use her like ‘they” used her. She would do what she did with them, with me.
I already decided to find out how fucked her asshole was with a little anal sex of my own.
My wife was a whore. I would now accept my fate and hope that my Karma was better the next time round.
