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Sister-In-Law Ch. 2

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Sunita hoped that her secret fears and guilt would not show at the dinner table that evening. She was grateful to little Jaya for maintaining a lively three-year-old flow of chatter throughout the meal, diverting her husband’s attention. After they had eaten and Sunita was clearing off the table, Vishal suddenly announced that he was going out.

“Meree pyaree Sunita, mai jara dho ghante ke liye Bar jaake aatha hoon. Tumhe koyee itraaz tho naheen naa darling?” he asked, smiling at his wife.

Sunita felt a stab of disappointment. She did mind when Vishal went to the small bar on the edge of town. Even though she knew it was just his way of unwinding now and then, she knew from experience that he would stay away much longer than a couple of hours. He would come home late with the smell of beer on his breath when he fell into bed. Although he never actually got drunk, he always came home exhausted. Too exhausted to make love to her even when she waited up for him. Sunita secretly wished that the man she married would turn to her for release from his tensions instead of to a local bar. Then maybe she would not need a vibrator either.

But Sunita did not voice any of her thoughts. Playing the role of the sweet and agreeable wife, she smiled sweetly. “Mujhe kyee itraaz nahee, Vishal, darling” she told him, carrying a stack of dishes to the sink. “Tum din bhar kaam karke thuk gaye ho ge, thodee dher baahar jaake aaram karne se tumharee sahat ke liye teekh hogee.”

Looking pleased, the burly man with the black wavy hair gave her a quick hug. “Tum bahut achee ho, Sunita,” he said, kissing her cheek. “Tum jaise patnee ke saath mai bahut khush kismet hoon, aise kitne mard lucky honge! Ek raat ke liye baahar jane ke liye, Aur marad log to apnee patneeon se bheek mangte hain. Phit bhi, unki patniyaan, unhe jaane bhi diya tho pasand nahee kartee hain.”

I resent it, too! Sunita thought to herself, running water into the sink. I’d much rather you stay home and unwind in bed! But she kept a pleasant expression on her face while pouring dishwashing liquid into the sink.

“Mai Jayaa ko sulaa ke jaa tha hoon,” Vishal offered, leading their raven-haired daughter by the hand. “Phir tum aaram se bhait ke TV dekhna.” He started out of the room, then turned, remembering something. “Are haan, Rajesh kaa TV baahar mere van me hai. Jaane se pahle andhar laa ke rakhungaa. Kal subha aake Rajesh, uska TV le jaayega.”

Sunita heard the delighted innocent laughter of their daughter as Vishal made a game of getting the child into her night clothes. But she did not smile at the lighthearted sounds of their playfulness. Instead, she felt a flicker of annoyance the way she always did whenever her brother-in-law’s name was mentioned. She disliked Vishal’s younger brother intensely. Although she managed to conceal the intensity of her emotion from her husband, Sunita felt certain that his nineteen-year-old brother Rajesh sensed the animosity that Sunita harbored toward him. She did her best to be polite to her husband’s tall, lanky brother but she had to force herself to do so. Everything about Rajesh disgusted her. The way he leered at her when Vishal wasn’t looking, the way he took advantage of his older brother’s good-natured generosity and affection. Sunita had lost track of the amount of money the boy now owed them. Whenever she mentioned the unpaid loans to Vishal, however, he merely laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

“Rajesh tho abhee bachaa hai,” he always apologized. “Kabhee kabhee, mera paisa chukana bhool jaata hain. Koi badee baath nahee.”

Maybe it didn’t mean much to Vishal but it mattered to Sunita. She just didn’t like the way Rajesh used his older brother, ignoring him for weeks when he was caught up in his own activities, then showing up again with a phony grin whenver he needed something. Whether it was a time-consuming favor or a quick loan, Vishal always indulged his younger brother.

“Haan, mai Rajesh ko thoda sa bigaad tha hoon,” Vishal once admitted after shelling out the fine for his brother’s latest traffic violation. “Par, mere maa baap marne ke baad mai ne Rajesh ko apne hathon se badaa kiyaa hai, Sunita. Abhee bhee mujhe aisa lagtha hai ki mai uske liye jimeevaar hoon.”

But Sunita felt that young Rajesh would stand on his own two feet more if Vishal didn’t keep making things so easy for him. Like fixing his television set. Sunita was certain that Rajesh would forget to pay his brother for services rendered. Just as he always forgot to repay loans. It wasn’t as if Rajesh didn’t earn good money on his graveyard shift at the factory. Rajesh shared a small studio apartment with a friend named Sunil and still had plenty of money to spare after expenses were met. But Rajesh squandered his paycheck on good times, always running to his older brother when things got tight and his wallet was not quite so well padded.

And now he was coming over tomorrow morning. Sighing heavily, Sunita hoped that he would not sit around fake hospital hastane and gab, keeping her from her work. She liked to make the best possible use of the hours that Jaya spent at the nursery school so that she could play with her daughter in the afternoon. Well, if Rajesh looked like he was going to park himself all morning, Sunita would just have to invent some excuse to get rid of him.

Sunita had the dishes done by the time Vishal returned from their daughter’s bedroom. “Jaya sone kilye tayaar hai. Tum dono aaram se TV dekh sako ge,” Vishal said with a smile when he joined Sunita in the kitchen. “Mai Rajesh kaa TV andhar rakhe, Bar jaake aatha hoon.”

After her husband had left, Sunita sat beside her small daughter on the living room couch, trying to concentrate on the musical variety show she had turned on. But her troubled thoughts kept turning to the disturbing letter she’d received that morning, along with the revealing photographs of herself. She wished, with a heaviness of heart, that Vishal had not chosen this particular evening to go out for a few beers. She knew that without his companionship, she would spend the entire evening brooding about her secret dilemma once Jaya was tucked in for the night. Then she felt a ripple of guilt for her selfishness. Vishal really did deserve a night out with the boys occasionally, she reminded herself sternly. After all, he was only engaging in a little harmless recreation to help him relax after a hard day’s work.

As Sunita sat beside her young daughter, holding the child’s small hand in hers, the lovely young wife was secure in the belief that Vishal was doing nothing more than going out to spend a few hours shooting the breeze with the fellow patrons of the Bar.

Because she trusted her beloved husband implicitly, Sunita never once suspected that in a few short minutes, the man she adored would be pounding his fiery prick into the well-trodden cunt of a hard-faced Andhra beauty named Lata. A woman who knew Sunita’s husband in all the intimate and carnal ways that Sunita herself secretly yearned for!

* * *

Vishal had told his wife only half the truth when he said that he was going to the Bar for a few beers. What he failed to add was the fact that he often shared the foamy brew with a beautiful divorcee who was usually occupying a stool at the bar. On the nights that Vishal showed up, however, Lata downed her drinks faster than usual for she was in just as big a hurry as Vishal was to get to her apartment.

After consuming their usual quota of alcohol, Vishal and Lata left the bar arm in arm. Minutes later, they were sprawled in the middle of the divorcee’s bed, their naked bodies intertwined. The sounds of their heavy breathing filled the air as Vishal lay on top of her, his distended prick poking the barfly’s heavy thigh. He bent over her bosom, kneading her ample tits while he sucked greedily at one of her ruby nipples. His swollen testicles churning under the weight of their heavy load, he went at her big boobs with the fervor he dared not display at home. Vishal had hungered for the taste of a savory mound of flesh for days now. If he had waited much longer to satisfy his lustful urges, he was afraid that he might have lost control of himself with Sunita and gone after his wife’s luscious breasts the way he was now devouring Lata’s. And Vishal did not want that to happen. His wife was far different from Lata. Sunita was not the kind of woman that a man handled roughly. His Sunita was sweet and good and decent, the kind of woman a man cherished and respected.

Vishal always held himself in check whenever he and Sunita made love, being careful not to let his animal lust get the best of him. By exercising the utmost self-control, Vishal managed to make love to his wife gently, tenderly, the way Vishal felt that she both deserved and expected to be treated. It was when his frustration became over powering, that he turned to earthy women like Lata. The hard-faced Telugu divorcee under him liked being handled roughly, for her sexual appetite was as voracious as any man’s. With someone like Lata, Vishal could relax and let himself go sexually. Although he hated himself for cheating on his beloved Sunita, he had little choice in the matter. He loved his wife with all his heart but she did not satisfy all his sexual needs. Every so often, the young husband felt as if he would explode if he did not go out and find the kind of woman who would welcome the kind of sex he secretly hungered for – a lusty man-hungry girl like Lata.

“Mmmmmmmmm, bahut achaa lug rahaa hai,” Lata moaned, arching her back in an effort to offer Vishal even more of her vast hills of femininity. Her eyes lined with lots of kaajal glazed with lust, the overweight divorcee let her hands slide down Vishal’s smooth muscular back and over the curve of his bare buttocks. Sighing, she squeezed his pale ass cheeks with enthusiasm, loving the feel of his firm flesh under her fake taxi porno fingers. She ran her finger up the hairy crack of his ass, noting with satisfaction that her quick unexpected caress made gooseflesh appear on his nude body.

Although she was glad to be rid of her abusive ex-husband, Lata missed having a built-in sex partner. That’s why she frequented the local bar several nights a week. If she sat at the bar long enough, she could usually count on finding some eager cock willing to ram her hungry pussy. And Vishal was not only one of her regular cocksmen but he was also one of her favorites. The big burly Punjabi really knew how to take care of a woman in the sack. He always gave her oversize boobs a great going over, using his hands and his mouth in ways that kept her happy for days. Although she was sometimes bruised and sore after one of their heated sessions, it was well worth the small price.

Now, as he squeezed and sucked at her mammoth tits, hot bursts of sensation coursed through her, making her writhe with pleasure. Her pussy leaking profusely, it pounded out its hunger with a persistent beat. Her free-flowing cuntal juices oozed from her throbbing aperture to stain the bedsheet. She knew from experience how deliciously big Vishal’s luscious prick was and the knowledge that tonight she was in for an extra special treat added to her excitement.

At last Vishal lifted his fair head from her bosom. Breathing hard, he rolled over on his back, his towering shaft reaching for the ceiling. “Aaa mere oopar chad jaa,” he panted, “aur mere lund kaa majaa le!”

Lata gazed at his towering shaft with adoring eyes. “Jaroor majaa loonge, pyare!” she quickly agreed, licking her lips. Rising eagerly, she lifted a heavy leg to straddle his naked body, her well-padded ass cheeks looming in front of Vishal’s handsome face. Grabbing the thick base of his swollen spear, Lata lowered her head, her mouth watering. She loved to suck on a cock almost as much as she loved to feel one crowd her pussy. The taste of a warm hunk of meat in her mouth made her entire body tingle. It wasn’t often, however, that she got the chance to sample an oversize prick like Vishal’s. The mere thought of sucking on his tasty manhood made her oozing cunt flutter in anticipation.

“Mmmmmmmmm,” she moaned, opening her mouth greedily while she brought her head all the way down to meet his bubbling joint.

“Ahhhhhhhh,” Vishal sighed, thrilling to the feel of her wet mouth encircling his hot poker. In seconds, the pudgy woman had consumed the full length of his masculinity so that the oozing knob like tip rammed the back of her throat. Once her widely stretched mouth had devoured every possible inch, Lata began to suck vigorously, hungrily. Fiery bursts of carnal pleasure tore through Vishal’s throbbing penis at the feel of her drawing tongue. “Oh, Ooooh!” he gasped, lifting his hips in quick response. “Bahut acha choos rahi hai tu. Oh raand, aise hee chooste rah!”

Encouraged by his praise, the plump divorcee sucked with even greater vigor, her head moving up and down enthusiastically. While she clutched the stump of his cock with one hand, she reached down to fondle his prickly sacs with the other. Vishal felt his swollen balls churn under her firm touch. Lata, tu tho lund bahut achaa choosthi hai! he thought, breathing heavily. Her dangling tits dancing merrily as she bobbed up and down, Lata’s cheeks billowed in and out.

Salee Raand! Vishal thought, surrendering himself completely to Lata’s vigorous suckings. With a girl like her, a man can really let go!

“Choos, Choos!” he cried, letting his inhibitions run wild. After holding back with his wife all the time, it felt great to let loose like this. His hot prick pounding and his balls churning while she went at him with gusto, Vishal gazed up at the divorcee’s widespread cunt. He saw the pinkness of her gaping pussy, the way her dark purple clitoris rose in excited splendor, beckoning invitingly. He reached up to stroke her soft thighs while his long tongue darted out to titillate the inflamed bud of femininity. The small penis like structure grew even more rigid under his manipulations and Lata’s wide ass bucked in heated response.

Lata suddenly released her masculine treasure to gasp for air. “Oh, Vishal!” she cried, wiggling her hips. “Meri chut chabao, pyare! Oh, mujhe tunmharee jeeb meri chut me cha hiye!” When she felt Vishal’s wet tongue respond to her wanton plea, she shuddered, her lewdly parted pussy secreting even more profusely. Oh, his wet mouth felt so good against her steaming cunt! Moaning happily, she lowered her head once again to resume her vigorous sucking, her mouth working feverishly in an effort to reward him for the way his oral member was swirling so magnificently between her outspread legs. The pungent taste of Vishal’s precoital juices on her tongue stimulated her all the more. Nearly out of her mind with passion, the plump divorcee rose up and down family stroke porno on his fiery shaft with unsurpassed dedication. “Mmmmmmmph! Mmmmmmmph!” she grunted. The dual pleasure of feeling Vishal’s mammoth rod crowd her mouth while his merciless tongue ravished her pounding cunt proved overpowering.

Suddenly the naked Lata moaned as if in delirium, her big ass bucking wildly, making Vishal’s head flip like that of a puppet on a string as his relentless tongue swirled high in her slick vagina. As she bucked in heated orgasm, mewling and grunting, her mouth and tongue tugged at her partner’s hot pole of masculinity with the fervor of a mad woman.

The taste of her oozing feminine juices on his tongue as well as the merciless way she was devouring his wildly throbbing prick made Vishal’s heated pelvis whirl frantically. Lowering his head from her pulsating, climaxing cunt, he panted, his breath coming hot and heavy. His balls were churning and his fiery shaft was about to explode.

“Oh Lata!” he gasped, his fingers digging cruelly into the divorcee’s widely split thighs. “Mai jhad raha hoon! Aghhhhhhh!” His hips jerking, he felt his steaming juices erupt in Lata’s mouth while wave after wave of carnal sensation tore through his sweating body. He felt her hand squeeze tightly around the base of his ejaculating organ as she eagerly devoured his hot semen, her throat working rapidly as she swallowed again and again. When at last his jerking penis had shot its entire wad, the whorish Lata lifted her head from his spent organ and collapsed on top of him.

As the panting couple struggled to catch their breath, Vishal’s thoughts suddenly turned to his lovely wife Sunita. If being sucked off by a slut like Lata could bring him such pleasure, how much more thrilling it would be if his young wife would give him a good blow job. Instantly ashamed of his lewd thoughts, Vishal silently berated himself. His sweet Sunita would be shocked and disgusted if he ever suggested such an act to her! To even think of the woman he loved while a tramp like Lata was lying naked and sprawled on top of him was contemptible! Alarmed by his salacious thoughts, Vishal decided that he better make sure that he fucked away to his heart’s content tonight so that he did not dare approach his sweet homemaker in any way that might frighten or disgust her. Better he satisfy himself with a woman who welcomed rough and vigorous sex … like good old Lata!

“Kya bolti re, Lata, pyaree?” Vishal asked in a husky voice, running his finger down the length of her saturated slit. “Mere jhada lund ko choos ke phir se usme jaan dal sakti kya, taki hum phir se ek dho round aur chudayee kar saken?”

Lata’s puffy, sperm-coated mouth stretched into a lascivious grin as she lifted her leg and rolled over. “Jaroor, mere rajaa,” she murmured, reaching for his limp organ. “Tum Lata pe sab chod dho, jaanu. Mujhe thodasa samay dho aur dekho mai tumharee sukdee see lund ko kaise kadak banaa daalthi hoon!” With that, she lowered her head and drew his spent penis into her receptive mouth. Her cheeks working in and out, she sucked vigorously, pausing at intervals to trace maddening circles around the tip of his cock, dipping down inside to lap up every last drop of sperm. It wasn’t long before the pudgy divorcee felt the masculine treasure grow within her mouth, becoming smooth and stiff under her artful ministrations. Her insatiable pussy began to throb again, eager for more than the feel of a tongue within its spongy depths. This time, Lata hungered for the vastness of Vishal’s enviable prick inside her cock-hungry vagina. No man she knew could fuck her with such strength and determination as the man whose rapidly expanding joint filled her warm mouth.

Vishal grinned, feeling his hot shaft reach full capacity once again. “Meree pyaree raand, tumhe tho lund choosna sahee athi hai!” he complimented, reaching down to give her heavy asscheek a playful slap. “Ab teree tange phila, thakee mai upna bada lund teri gram choot me ghused doon!”

More than eager to comply, the naked divorcee rolled over on her back and split her legs wide, gazing up at her husky partner with thick-lidded eyes. “Mmmmmmmmm, tera lund meree chut mein dalwane ke liye aur naheen ruk sakthee,” she murmured, her hands sliding down her abdomen to grasp her fuzzy triangle. Whimpering, she spread her cuntal lips apart in a lewd offering, her quivering canal glistening in readiness. “Jaldee se andhar daal dhe, raaja,” she begged, lifting her pelvis while her hungry cunt throbbed demandingly.

Vishal quickly straddled the hard-faced buxom, his distended hunk of meat scarlet and deeply veined as it loomed forward. He could feel his balls tighten under the weight of another steaming load of semen and knew that he was ready to give the uninhibited divorcee the brand of fucking she ached for. But first, he wanted to hear her beg a little.

“Phir se maang, pyaree,” he told her, reaching down to finger her milky slit.

Lata gasped at the feel of his finger. Splitting her legs so far apart that her thigh muscles ached, she looked up at him pleadingly. “Jaldee se mere chut me tumhara lund daalo, Vishal,” she begged, her leaking aperture throbbing deliciously. “Dayaa kar ke mujhe chodho!”

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