Chapter 1: Indrani

I was lucky that from an early age, my travel bug was nurtured by my parents, allowing me to explore the world. But it was India that somehow captured my erotic imagination and ultimately my heart. Whenever I returned to India, I always seemed to be welcomed with open legs! I never lacked in finding a willing woman, young or old, single or married, working class or upper class who was open to a sexual affair. Nowadays, that “I” is “we”, my partner joining me in erotic adventures of every kind, she is more than willing to expose me to all kinds of new experiences, sharing her native India with me. One of the interesting insights into the erotic side of India is that compared to any other country where I have spent time, Indian men are the most open to being cuckold! More often than not, it was a husband or boyfriend who set me, and later us, up with their wives and girlfriends. That was my first encounter with an Indian woman, with her husband secretly watching me seduce, lick, and then fuck, his beautiful, shapely wife. It is a memory I hold dear and one that started me on a journey that ultimately led me to meet my soulmate.

I first visited India as a sophomore at university studying economics and urban development, when I was 19 years old. I was selected for a special study-abroad program that would spend two months at Delhi University and one-month visiting different places to observe alternative urban planning models. It was in the mid-1990s when I first landed in Delhi. I am American, stand about 6 feet high, am quite trim with light brown hair.

After the long journey to Delhi, I was exhausted and unsure of where I was. The program arranged homestays for us, or what in India is referred to as paying-guest accommodations. We arrived late at night and were taken straight to our homestays. It was past midnight and I was greeted by a man in his late 40s. He showed me my room, a separate living quarter that included a sitting room or study area. He then left and returned with a very sleepy-looking woman, who I was later to learn was 44 years old. Gopal and Indrani were their names, though I learned quickly to call them uncle and aunty. I could not help but notice that Indrani was quite a stunning-looking woman, even in her raw state of being woken up in the middle of the night. She was probably about 5 feet 3 inches, no more than 120 lbs, very thin, with amazing breasts that swayed in her kurta, being braless. I could not help but check her out.

In the morning, I arose and had proper introductions to the family. Besides Gopal and Indrani, there was Nila, their 21-year-old daughter who now was doing an MA in English, and a younger son, Subir. While Nila was closer to my age and quite attractive, I had a hard time keeping my eyes off of Indrani. Her full curves drew my attention and her radiant smile made me feel very welcomed. After Gopal, Nila, and Subir went off to work and school, I was left alone with Indrani who graciously showed me around their apartment and then gave me instructions on how to work the hot water heater in my bathroom. When she turned the tap to test the water, it seemed it was set for the overhead shower, rather than the tap, and she ended up drenching herself. She just happened to be wearing, much to my great fortune, a white kurta. It was soaked and her bra-encased breasts were clearly on display. Even her bra became a bit translucent, allowing me to see her dark nipples, which became quite hard when she noticed me staring.

As much as I enjoyed eyeing Indrani and spending time with Nila and some of her friends over the next two weeks, I was well-behaved, not wanting to make any major social faux pas. However, one evening when the women were out visiting a relative and Subir was doing tuition, Gopal and I had a chance to chat and visit. That is when my life changed.

He was hesitant and shy, but persistent.

“This is awkward, yes, I know, but, the other day, when you arrived. I know it was an accident. It must have been awkward, yes awkward. But perhaps you enjoyed it, yes?” he started.

Needless to say, I had no clue what he was talking about.

He went on, “Indrani told me, you know, about the shower, about getting all wet. It was an accident she said, but, yes, she said that you liked it, yes?”

I was caught! I must have looked like the proverbial deer in the headlights – stunned, just staring, waiting for catastrophe to strike me down. My mind raced with things to say, but all I could blurt out was that I was sorry for staring.

“No, no, Indrani said, she said, she thought you liked it, yes? You liked seeing her wet. It is ok. She liked it too. She told me. She said you stared at her, at her wet top, her ... you know, her...”

This was certainly not the conversation I was expecting to have, I was sensing there was more to what was being said, so in a moment of boldness just decided to lay it out, “You mean her breasts? Yes, I did like seeing her wet breasts. She is beautiful. You are a very lucky man. Her breasts are amazing. And I think she liked me looking, is that what she said? Her nipples got hard when she caught me looking at her breasts.”

He had a big smile on his face now, “Yes, yes, she liked it. It is ok, it is good. She is beautiful, yes she is. I am a lucky man. But ... but, hmmm ... let me say, I also like it. Yes?”

“Like it, what do you like? That I stared at your wife’s breasts? Is that what you liked?” Ok, I was now way out of my realm of experience and just turned on the autopilot. This was in the mid-1990s and internet porn was not quite what it is these days, so I had no reference point to know how to behave or what to say, but I certainly had good enough sense to see what was going on.

“Yes,” he said somewhat sheepishly.

“Does it turn you on that another man checks out your wife, your beautiful wife and her luscious tits?”

“Oh, yes. Yes, I think you understand now.”

“Do you want me to stare at her more? Does she want to show me more of her beauty? Does she like me staring at her? You don’t mind your wife being turned on by another man? I would like to look at her breasts and her amazing ass more. Is that what you want?”

He was panting, his voice was weak with excitement. If I went on I have no doubt he probably would have cum in his slacks right then and there. He barely got out a “yes” but then Subir came home and our conversation ended.

That evening, I could not help but check out Indrani more and I made sure Gopal saw me, though was cautious enough not to let Nila or Subir see what I was doing. Indrani certainly noticed but acted all shy.

The next morning, I decided to go late to the university and when he was leaving Gopal gave me a wink. I have no idea what it meant, what he was expecting, but I started to get a little hard with just the possibility of what lay ahead. I wasn’t sure how to proceed, or what Gopal and Indrani really wanted, but I figured some light flirtations were a good beginning and see how bold she was going to be.

Though they had a servant to help, she happened to be gone that morning. How convenient I thought, were they planning this themselves? I went into the kitchen and offered to help which of course Indrani refused, but I stayed and watched her, admiring her ass and her tits swaying. Holy fuck, she was braless under a white kameez, a tight white kameez. I could clearly see her breasts, her areolas, her hard nipples. And they were hard. She was turned on and knew she was turning me on.