Old Man and Indian Wife I

This is a story which I found in the internet..hope you all like it..this is not my creation..all credits goes to the original author..

*beepbeep* *beepbeep* *beepbeep*

My wife's cellphone buzzed and rang multiple times to announce the arrival of several text messages as soon as she turned the phone on after the pilot announced it was okay to do so.

"So Shipra." I said icily, "I guess those are all text messages from Jeff?"

Shipra ignored me and her fingers worked the keyboard furiously as she replied to the text messages.

"Only two of them." Shipra said once she got done. "The third was from my sister saying Chintu is doing fine."

"And what did Jeff want? Some recipe perhaps?"

Jeff was our neighbor and "friend" back in New Jersey. He was divorced and lived next door, and lived with his son who was the same age as Chintu - 6. I had started off liking Jeff when we moved into his neighborhood a year back. He was friendly, his son and Chintu got along very well, and he seemed genuinely helpful. Which he still was.

What had started bugging me was that he and Shipra seemed to have become a little too friendly. Shipra was a stay-at-home mom, having quit her job in banking as soon as we had Chintu. And Jeff had a catering business which he managed from his house, and even when he had to be away, it was usually for dinner services at nights or on weekends. So when I was at work and Shipra was home, usually, so was Jeff. And Shipra often told me that he came over or invited her over to talk about recipes and food, a topic Shipra had gotten really interested in of late.

"No, Pavan. He just texted the address of a restaurant he recommends. And wished us both safe travel and a great vacation." Shipra replied.

"You know what'll make my vacation great? No texts from Jeff." I said as I pulled our handbag from the overhead compartment.

"Pavan please. Don't start." Shipra shook her head and slid out from her seat.

After this mini-tiff of sorts, both Shipra and I were silent as we made our way off the plane, got our luggage from baggage claim and took a taxi to the Venetian - a posh casino-resort. I waited for her to break the ice, convinced that I was right in being suspicious of Jeff. I was convinced that he had the hots for my wife, and was working slowly but surely to get her into bed. If, that is, he hadn't already.

Over the past few months, I had noticed a change in Shipra's appearance and demeanor. Usually her attire was pretty standard - jeans or trousers, with modest t-shirts or blouses, and frumpy sweaters. After Chintu's birth, Shipra had gone from a very fashion-savvy and spiffily dressed young woman to the archetypal suburban mom. But recently, I noticed she was wearing skirts more often, with tank tops or blouses with a low neckline. She was back to dressing the way she used to 7 years ago when we met and started dating in Bombay. And I wondered if this sudden change had anything to do with her friendship with Jeff. Although I was glad of the occasional throwback to our initial days together.

Ah, our initial days together. I had been smitten with Shipra the day she walked into the conference room on her first day of work in our bank. She was one of the new trainees, fresh out of business school. I was there in my capacity as my division's Vice President, to address the newbies about our operations. She was dressed in a figure-hugging knee-length black skirt, a formal blouse with one button open, and a matching black blazer. She was tall and not just by Indian standards - 5 ft 10. Her skirt showed that she had an awesome butt and shapely legs. And even the formal blouse and the blazer could not hide the fact that she was exceedingly buxom - 34DD as I later found out.

I found myself staring at her a little longer than appropriate. She obviously noticed, looked right into my eyes, and flashed me a dazzling smile. And that was all it took to get me hooked.

I waited a few weeks before doing anything though. After all. Shipra, a fresh MBA 24 years of age, was 15 years my junior. I was touching 40, and although I worked out regularly to keep my body in shape, the gray was beginning to show at the edges of my hairline. I was still unmarried, thanks to a long long relationship that ended abruptly 5 years ago. I still dated casually, and got plenty of action - a good looking, tall, well-built successful banking executives in his late 30s does not find dating difficult in a city like Bombay. But most of the women I had dated had been my contemporaries. I had never even thought about going after someone in her mid-20s.

Until Shipra walked in that door.

Although she got assigned to my division, I kept things strictly professional. I could see that she was getting a lot of attention from guys her own age, something she seemed glad and adept about handling. But i did get some fairly strong signals from her of her interest in me. She would compliment me on my looks, ask me about my taste in music, movies, and books. And try to spend a lot of time talking about things other than work. And she kept talking about how she wanted to "settle down" but all the guys she met were too "immature".

After a few weeks, I convinced myself that I wasn't just some deluded old horndog reading signals where there were none. Shipra was definitely indicating her interest in me. So I asked her out. She readily agreed. And from there, things moved rather rapidly. We had sex for the first time after our second date, and I was glad to see that Shipra knew how to use her body well. In a couple of weeks, she had all but moved in with me, spending about 5 nights a week at my apartment. In a month, we informed HR about our relationship, and Shipra was moved to another division as per company rules.

In six months, I was convinced she was the love of my life, and proposed. She accepted readily. Her parents were a little displeased that she was marrying someone so much older than her. But I charmed their pants off, and all was well. We were married, and soon Shipra was pregnant. After Chintu was born, Shipra told me she had no interest in going back to work. She had never really been too career-minded, she said, and was simply living out the dreams of her modern and demanding father who believed her intelligence was too rare to waste.

Soon, we settled into a happily married lifestyle, raising our son together. Shipra had a lot of close friends in Bombay, many of them male. And her close friendship with them did rankle me a little bit. In other words, it made me insecure. Initially I stayed mum. But after I turned forty, my body began catching up with me. My stamina for sex was diminishing by the year. When we started dating, we had sex at least twice every night. Around the time Chintu turned two, it was down to twice a week. And of late, it was down to barely once a week.

The decline of my prowess did play a role in my insecurities growing. There were a couple of her male friends, young, good-looking, handsome, that I particularly felt insecure about. They were married too, but it still bothered me that they were so friendly with Shipra. We started having arguments about it. Shipra always dismissed my concerns saying I was being paranoid. But I knew my wife was hot enough to make anyone sin. I also knew she had had a fairly colorful past, sexually speaking (the details of which are another story). So I knew that she knew she had options. And that drove my insecurity and caused more arguments. These arguments became the norm for the next few years.

One day, a head-hunter called me up out of the blue, saying I would be perfect for a position that a Wall Street bank was looking to fill. It had always been my dream to work on Wall Street, and I had no hesitation applying. I got the job quite easily, and soon, we moved to New York.

The move was a source of some tension between Shipra and me. She was not so sure she wanted to move to a new place, leaving her friends and family behind. She wanted to "discuss" it. But i was in no mood to listen. Surely she should understand what a rare opportunity this was for me. I wasn't getting any younger, and who knew when...rather if, such a chance would come by again. Eventually Shipra agreed, and we moved to America.

We got a big house in suburban New Jersey, in a good school district. Shipra's initial apprehensions gave way to enthusiasm about living in the greater New York area. Chintu certainly loved it, especially the tradition of Halloween trick--or-treating which he could not believe existed. And soon we were a happy family again. Shipra did complain occasionally about feeling lonely. To be honest, I was relieved that all her male "friends" were thousands of mile away.

But then Jeff had slid into the picture.

Jeff was roughly the same age as Shipra. Very handsome. I worked out to keep my body in shape. He clearly worked out to give his body shape. He had well toned abs, arms and a chest, which he loved displaying in the summer months. His striking good looks, coupled with his charming personality, convinced me that he was a threat to be mindful of. But when I raised the concern, Shipra again accused me of being too controlling and insecure and jealous.

One summer day when I came home from work, I saw a scene that made me lose my cool. Nothing scandalous, mind you. The two boys were playing in the backyard. A few feet away from them, sat Shipra and Jeff on lawn chair, drinking beer. Jeff was only wearing a pair of cut-off denim shorts, the sweat glistening on his chest. Shipra was wearing a short skirt and a tank top. And they were laughing and talking.

Like I said, nothing scandalous. But watching Jeff, all muscled and toned and sweaty, joking with my relatively scantily clad wife pissed me off. Shipra had put on a few pounds since Chintu was born, but the extra weight had been distributed evenly. She still had a fantastic figure which had gone from tall-and-curvy-but-slender to simply tall-and-voluptuous - 36DD-28-38. She looked like a million bucks sitting in the lawn chair. But I was more pissed off at Jeff's overtly hunky appearance than I was attracted to Shipra's knock-out looks at that moment. I yelled at Chintu, asking him to come inside. The tone of my voice was enough for Jeff to take a hint, and he took his son and went home. And Shipra walked in, looking confused.

That night after Chintu went to bed, we had one of the most acrimonious fights we'd had. I accused Shipra of leading Jeff on. She told me my paranoia was reaching historic levels. We argued back and forth, until she said,

"Pavan, don't take this the wrong way, but don't you see your insecurity is stemming from your.....troubles in bed? I keep telling you to see the doctor. There are drugs..."

"So you're saying I should take Viagra or you'll fuck him? Is that it?" I exploded. I had been having troubles down there, but I knew it was more because of stress than anything. I certainly had no desire to walk into a doctor's office and tell him I was having trouble getting it up.

"What?" Shipra said, confused.

"Or have you fucked him already?"

Shipra slapped me in anger. I pushed her to the bed and stormed out of the room. I went to a nearby bar and had a couple of drinks. When I came back, Shipra was already asleep.

Over the next few days, we both calmed down. I apologized to Shipra saying I had been out of line. Shipra said she understood my concerns and would tone down her rapport with Jeff, if it bothered me so much. And a few days later, i surprised her with my plans for us to spend a long weekend in Las Vegas. Just the two of us. Shipra's sister who lived in Philadelphia had agreed to take care of Chintu while we were away.

Now back to Vegas.

After we reached the Venetian, I finally broke my silence and mentioned how pretty the casino looked. Shipra also looked impressed and pointed out a few beautiful decorations in the lobby. We checked and went to our room.

This was my first time in Vegas and I was really looking forward to hitting the blackjack tables. So as Shipra went to the bathroom for a quick shower, I changed into some smart casual wear to hit the casino floor. I got dressed, turned the TV on and waited for Shipra. She walked out, her hair wet, clad in a bathrobe.

"Get dressed quickly." I said. "Let's go to the casino floor."

Shipra slowly walked towards me and sat down on the bed. She put her head on my shoulder and ran her hand over my cheek. I could feel heat radiating from her just-showered body. I turned and kissed her, slipping my hand into her robe, fondling her massive breasts. I felt her wet hair touch my ear. Shipra slowly pulled me down to the bed, and I was on top of her. I opened her robe and started kissing her boobs and fingering her clit. She started moaning and squirming as I continued playing with her. A minute or so later, she started unbuttoning my shirt.

That's when I got up off the bed. Shipra looked at me, with a quizzical look on her face.

"We should..." I said, buttoning up my shirt, "we should go check out the casino."

And I ran to the bathroom. In there, I unzipped and tried to coax life into my dick. The only reason I had interrupted that very hot session was that despite my best mental efforts, an erection refused to form. I sat on the edge of the bathtub and started jacking off my dick. But to no avail. A few minutes later, I gave up, flushed the toilet to make it seem like I had gone to pee and walked out of the bathroom. She was right. I did need to see a doctor. I decided to make an appointment as soon as I got back.

Shipra had gotten dressed when I was in there. She was wearing an elegant knee-length wrap-around skirt and blouse with sequins. She flashed me a bright smile, but I could see the disappointment in her eyes. I thought of saying something about the performance issue, but instead she said,

"So you'll have to explain to me exactly how blackjack works."

"Oh, it's easy. It's all about getting as close to 21 as possible..." I was glad for the change in topic and spent time explaining the game's rules to her.

On the casino floor, we had a lot of fun. We first spent some time at the blackjack tables. I made 4 grad while Shipra lost roughly the same amount, leaving us even. We then watched the action on some of the poker tables, a game I liked but was not confident enough to gamble in. We then hit the slots. By dinner time, we had made a small profit. We had dinner at a swanky Italian place on the strip. Our spirits were high. This really was turning into the vacation we wanted. We called up Shipra's sister and spoke to Chintu before deciding to take a walk on the strip.

As the evening wore on, I could not help but notice how smashingly sexy my wife looked. Tall, voluptuous, and with a beautiful face, she drew second and third glances from most men on the street. By the time we got back to the Venetian, I was feeling a stirring in my loins. We got into the elevator, and as soon as the door closed, I pulled Shipra into my embrace and kissed her. She kissed me back hungrily as I pawed her spectacular butt. An erection began forming and she could obviously feel it on her thigh.

"Ooooh Pavan! In the elevator? Naughty!" she said between our kisses.

"I can't help it. You're just so...." I breathlessly started but was interrupted.

*beepbeep*

Shipra froze for a second, but continued kissing me.

"Check who it's from." I said.

"It can wait." she said and tried to pull me back into a kiss. That's when the elevator reached our floor and the doors opened.

"I said, check who it is from." I was feeling rage build up again.

Shipra took her cellphone out of her purse and looked at it.

"Is it Jeff?" I asked.

"Yes, but Pavan, he's just..." Shipra started saying. But I stormed out of the elevator.

I opened our room, turned the TV on and sat on the bed, looking very pissed off.

"He's doing it just to ruin our vacation." I said in an angry voice.

"No Pavan."

"Shipra, I want you to text back in caps - NEVER TEXT OR CALL ME AGAIN"

"Come on Pavan. Don't be silly."

"Shipra, DO IT!!!" I yelled.

She looked at me with tears in her eyes and a confused look on her face.

"Are you going to do it or not?"

"Pavan, please. It's so unnecessary. And rude."

"Fine. I am going to sleep." I said, and started changing.

The next morning, neither of us made any reference to the fight last night. It hadn't been much of a fight. I changed into my night shorts, took a couple of Night Tylenol pills and was soon asleep. Shipra had been sobbing most of the time that I was awake. We had breakfast at a small diner and then decided to ride the tiny gondola in the hotel. We then went back to the strip, and checked out the other casinos - Bellagio, Caesar's, MGM Grand etc. Our conversations were mostly pleasant and cordial. Both of us were waiting for the other person to apologize.

We decided to have lunch at the Venetian's poolside restaurant. Shipra said she'd like to go upstairs and change. I asked what she wanted to change into, and her response was, a swimsuit. Despite the coolness between us, I smiled. I had not seen Shipra in a swimwear in several years. It would be a visual treat for sure. The swimsuit actually turned out to be a yellow bikini that went fantastically with Shipra's white complexion. It wasn't too skimpy or anything. But any bikini would have trouble containing her massive boobs. And her voluptuous perfectly shaped round butt looked great in the yellow bikini bottoms. She looked positively fuckable and if I had not been carrying the grudge from the previous night, I'd have jumped her right away. But for now, I just changed into swimming trunks, and wore a t-shirt.

Shipra tied a matching yellow sarong around her waist and we went to the poolside restaurant. We got a table right by the pool, and I could see that Shipra was getting a lot of admiring glances again, from men and women alike. I was particularly amused by an old bald white man who was swimming laps gradually, and whenever he was close to us, would slow down and check Shipra out blatantly. I don't think she noticed though.

I was only halfway into my main course when Shipra announced she was full, and wanted to get in the pool. I simply nodded and continued eating. Since she had just eaten, she couldn't really swim too much, so she just did a couple of different strokes at the end of the pool close to me. As she did the backstroke, I could not help but feel a surge in my pants at the way her huge tits struggled to break free from the bikini.

As I looked away from her, I noticed that the old bald white man was splayed on a pool chair on the other side, again blatantly staring at my wife. I also noted with a chuckle that he was wearing a speedo - not something suited for his old paunchy body. He noticed me looking at him and smiled at me. I looked away and back towards Shipra who had now waded to the other side of the pool.

The old man got up from his chair and walked towards the edge of the pool. Standing up, he looked even more ridiculous in his speedo, with his paunch flabbing over it. I did however notice momentarily, before looking away, that the crotch of his speedo was massive, as if hiding a football. Must be an enlarged prostate, I thought myself. The old man dove into the water with a clumsy splash and started swimming. I watched curiously as he swam towards Shipra. And he said something to her.