My name is Jen, and my husband, Craig, and I recently returned from a combination conference/vacation in India. We are thirty years old, live in Philadelphia, and I was sent to Chennai for the week-long, all-expenses-paid conference sponsored by our subsidiary there, partially as a reward for sales productivity over the past year.
We were met at the airport by Chandu, a coworker from the subsidiary who took us under his wing as our unofficial guide. The first day was for travel, the next three were for the conference, and then we had two days of free time before a full day’s journey home.
It didn’t take long for me to find that the rumors are true concerning Indian men being sexually attracted to fair-skinned American women, and I was being gawked at everywhere we went, including by Chandu and the other men at the conference. Some of them were so obvious that they were rubbing their crotches while looking at me, and not even trying to hide it. Chandu seemed torn between his role as our host, and his lust for my ass, but he wasn’t forward with me like I heard Indian men could be.
I’m five feet and eight inches tall, weigh one hundred and nineteen pounds, and although my breasts are only 34As, they are perfectly shaped and firm, and my nipples are visible through my blouses and t-shirts, since I don’t wear a bra. Although, I think my best feature is my perfectly sculpted, tight ass, which those men were drooling over, they also liked the contrast of my shoulder-length, brown hair and blue eyes, with my fair skin.
The conference went well, and Craig busied himself with sight-seeing during the days when I was at my meetings. He really became irritated when I told him how blatantly the men were hitting on me, and I even teased him a little about the big bulges I saw when the men were gripping their crotches. Then he got me back by telling me how hot some of the big-breasted women were, and they were flirting with him.
The Beach Party
On our first free day, Chandu invited us to spend the day and evening at his friend, Badri’s, beach house near Mariana Beach. I wore my skimpiest bikini, with a black bottom and blue top, as we played in the surf and sand. Craig was irritated all over again when he saw the Indian men staring at me on the beach, and he was particularly aware that they were looking at my prominent camel toe through my bikini, which is so thin they could see not only the outline of my vulva, but also impressions of pubic hair.
We spent most of the day on the beach and were drinking a local alcoholic beverage, named desi daru. That drink is distilled from molasses that is made from sugar cane, and it is best known as a drink made and favored by the rural, agrarian class. The brand we were drinking was more highly refined and has an alcohol content of forty percent.
Badri allowed us to shower and change at the beach house, since we were staying for a large party that evening. I changed into a short, black, slinky dress, with only my silk, black, flowered, frilly panties underneath. That dress accentuates my ass and allows impressions of my hard nipples to be seen under the shifting fabric.
We had a great dinner of Indian cuisine, while being plied with more desi daru. We were feeling no pain from what we drank on the beach, and those drinks at dinner only added to our inebriation. Neither Craig nor I are big drinkers, and the food we ate did little to lessen our drunkenness.
It seemed like Badri was having the party in our honor, and five other couples, several single men, and two single ladies joined us after dinner. We continued sipping the desi daru and smoked some potent marijuana that one of the guests brought. That was only the second time I had ever smoked weed.
I danced to several songs with Craig, and he got irritated when an Indian man, named Hasan, who is a good friend of Chandu and Badri, kept flirting with me and trying to break into our dances. And at different times, when Craig was busy talking with others, Hasan kept toying with me, and trying to get me to go into one of the bedrooms with him. I was drunk enough and high enough on the marijuana that I didn’t make a big deal out of it, but Craig noticed and was getting irritated.
Craig finally confronted Hasan, and they had a big argument. I tried to calm Craig down, and ended up siding with Hasan, saying, “Come on, honey, he doesn’t mean any harm. Just let it go and enjoy the party.”
I sensed that Craig was upset with me after that, and he went off talking with some of the others, as we both kept drinking and smoking weed. I noticed Hasan and Chandu talking quietly with one of the pretty, big-breasted single ladies there, wearing a revealing top, and she soon thereafter engaged Craig in conversation. They ended up dancing together, although there was no kissing or tight hugging, but it was still a little annoying to me.
Hasan Makes His Move
Hasan approached me again when Craig was preoccupied and getting so drunk that he was almost passed out on the couch, sitting next to that big-titted Indian lady. It seemed to me that they were purposely trying to distract him.
Hasan asked me to dance again, saying, with a strong Indian accent, “Oh my, Jen, you are so beautiful. Would you do me the honor of dancing with me, now that your husband is preoccupied with my friend, Jaya? I knew that he couldn’t resist her big breasts.”
We began dancing, and Hasan wasn’t bashful about holding me close, and even reaching down and rubbing my ass, as he pressed his hardening cock into my belly. I was too drunk and irritated with Craig to give a shit, and I think the marijuana was making me horny.
After dancing with him for a few minutes, I noticed that many of the others were watching us, and even giving him thumbs up and other signs of approval, and I was feeling more comfortable in his arms.
Then, for some reason, I was thinking about my bikini that I had changed out of, and asked Hasan, “You haven’t seen my bikini around, have you. I thought I left it in the bathroom when I changed, but I couldn’t find it there.”
Hasan smiled and said, “I think I might have seen it in the bedroom, when I passed by there earlier. Let’s go look there.”
I had the feeling that he was going to try to seduce me, and even though I had never been promiscuous, only having fucked one boyfriend before I met Craig, the combination of the desi daru, marijuana, horniness, and Hasan’s assertiveness, made me want to go with him. Chandu gave Hasan a high five as we passed him on the way to the bedroom, and I knew that he was in on the conspiracy to get me fucked. Craig was passed out by then and couldn’t see the other men giving Hasan the high sign as he led me to the bedroom.
Hasan closed the door after we went in, and he dropped to his knees behind me, “I have been looking at and touching your bum (his word for my ass, from the British colonial influence) all night, Jen, and I must kiss it.”
He began rubbing, fondling, and kissing my bum, right over my dress, and it was hard to believe how obsessed he was with it. I loved the attention, and even pressed back against his face in my covered ass crack. He kissed and caressed my bum for what seemed like five minutes, before he stood up and moved in front of me.
Hasan leaned in, and we were in an immediate, tongue probing kiss, as he rubbed my bum and the side of my small breast. I could hardly believe that I was so turned on and in lust with that Indian stranger, and I was his to do with as he pleased. He unzipped and pushed down my dress as we kissed, leaving me standing there in only my panties. He then began rubbing my lust-hardened nipples with his thumbs, before leaning down to suck one and then the other.
I was breathing hard and my pussy was wet, when he said, “I’ve just got to see your beautiful bum in the flesh, Jen, so bend over and touch your toes, while I pull your panties down and off.”
It felt so natural following his commands, and I leaned down as he got behind me. I felt his face pressed against my bum as he pulled my panties down, and he kept kissing and licking my bum. I stepped out of my panties as he stepped away momentarily, and I only found out later that he had opened the door, and hung my black, flowered, frilly panties on the outside door handle. That must have been his signal to his friends that he was successful in breeding the drunk, slutty, American lady, fulfilling the belief that we are easy to fuck.
Hasan took off his shoes, pants, and underwear before he stood back in front of me and pushed me to my knees in front of him. His dark, thick, hard, uncircumcised cock was almost hard, at seven inches long, and it was already dripping with precum. He looked down at me, saying, “That’s it, Jen, suck my thick cock, and get your first taste of Indian meat.”
My husband’s cock is uncircumcised and six inches long, so Hasan’s cock seemed so meaty and tasty as I took it into my mouth and tasted his salty precum. I began sucking him hard and deep, as I played with his huge, low-hanging balls, and he moaned, “Ah, yeah, Jen, suck my fucking cock. You American cunts are so easy to fuck, and it serves your asshole husband right to have me fucking your face, after the shit he gave me earlier. I’ll love breeding your sweet pussy, Jen, and fucking you harder and better than you’ve ever been fucked.”
I sucked his cock for what seemed like two or three minutes, until he pulled away, saying, “I’m getting too close, Jen, and want to save my potent baby cream for your married pussy. But first I want to taste your sweet gash.”
I know that some men like to think they have a chance to impregnate other men’s wives. My periods are regular, though, and I knew that I was due in a couple of days. I was on birth control pills anyway, but I still wasn’t thrilled about him cumming in my pussy. So, I wanted to get him excited about fucking a possibly fertile woman, while still insisting on a condom.
So, I lied, saying, “I’m not on birth control any longer, and Craig and I are trying to get me pregnant on this trip, since this is my fertile time. So, you’ll have to wear a condom if you want to fuck me.”
He pushed me back on the bed and moved between my legs, and just looked at me for a few seconds, before saying, “Damn, Jen, what a beautiful, wet, thick-lipped, hairy pussy you have, just begging for my tongue and cock. And yes, I do have a condom with me, if you insist.”
Hasan began eating me out with a passion, with his arms under my legs, and reaching up to rub my nipples with his thumbs, as he sucked my vulva, pressing his long tongue deep inside me, and sucking my hard clit.
Then he said, “Let’s change positions, Jen, so I can look at your beautiful bum as I eat you out. Just sit on my face.”
He laid back on the bed, and I sat on his face, facing his feet. He began sucking my pussy again, which put his nose right against my bum hole. I loved sitting on his face that way, and in addition to eating me out, it sounded like he was sniffing my hole. So, I wasn’t surprised when he pulled me forward, and began rimming me.
Hasan only rimmed me for a minute or so, before he went back to sucking my pussy and partially pushed a finger in my hole. I pushed his hand away and told him ‘no’, and he continued eating me out for a few more minutes. Then he pushed me off him, and said, “I’m ready to fuck you now, Jen, so let me get this fucking condom on.”
He pulled a package of condoms out of his pants, and I thought it was funny that they were a latex brand, named Kama Sutra. He struggled to roll the condom, which looked too small for his thick cock, down over his shaft. He finally got it on and said, “Get on your knees now, Jen, and I’m going to fuck you like a dog, like the bitch you are.”
He shoved his thick cock in me to the balls, without testing to see if I could take his girth, and he was soon fucking me with fast, deep strokes, as his big balls slapped against my inner thighs. He leaned over me with one hand rubbing my breast, with the other on my shoulder, pulling me back against his powerful thrusts.
Then he brought both hands back and was kneading, squeezing, rubbing my bum, and spreading my cheeks with his hands. I had never heard of a man being so obsessed with a woman’s bum, and it felt like he was worshiping mine. Starting with kissing it, then rimming me, and trying to stick his finger in my hole, and finally rubbing it so intensely, I knew that he loved my bum.
Hasan was moaning as he taunted me, saying, “Oh yeah, take my big cock, Jen, and know what it’s like to fuck thick, dark, Indian dick. I’ll bet your needle-dicked, asshole husband has never fucked you this good or deep.”
I could hardly believe how long he fucked me, given that I had sucked his cock and he had the excitement of eating me out. I had three orgasms during the ten minutes he fucked me, before he finally ejaculated, and I felt his cock throbbing and flexing in my pussy as he inseminated me. I knew that he was wearing a condom, but I still felt the heat and wetness of his semen and sperm inside me, shooting against my cervix.
He pulled out of me, with a loud slurping sound, and I looked back to see that the condom had shredded on his thick cock, and I said, “Oh fuck, Hasan, you have inseminated me. Shit, fuck, what will I ever tell Craig if you’ve knocked me up?”
Hasan was just about to respond, when I saw Chandu and Badri standing near the door, and they had been watching out of sight when Hasan was fucking me. Chandu had my panties over his head, sucking on the crotch, until he pulled them off and said, “I’m so happy, Jen, that the home office sent such a fine piece of married, white pussy to the conference.”
He continued, “Everyone, except your drunk husband, saw your panties on the door, and knows that you were in here fucking our buddy, Hasan. They’re all laughing and think it’s funny how easy it was to distract Craig and get you aroused. Now, Badri and I are going to enjoy your pussy too. We heard what you told him about being fertile and unprotected, so if he hasn’t already planted his seed in your womb, then maybe we’ll be able to.”
Chandu opened the door smiling and waved my panties to the group as they cheered, before hanging them back on the doorknob. He was letting them know that he and Badri were going to fuck me too.
Hasan had left the room by then, to the cheers of the group, and I was lying on my back. Badri moved between my legs, and said, “This isn’t my first-time getting seconds from Hasan, and he has a knack for fucking married women. But you are my first American pussy, and I’ve been his cleanup man many times.”
I had never heard of men eating out a just-fucked pussy, and I was amazed as he began sucking Hasan’s cum out of me. It felt so good and was so kinky being sucked that way, and the sounds of his slurping filled the room.
Unlike Hasan, Badri is a darker-skinned, Tamil Indian, and I found out later that they are known for their darker skin and large cocks. When he stopped eating me out and moved up to fuck me, I was surprised by what looked like a thick, black, uncircumcised, nine-inch cock, with a huge, mushroom head. It felt tight at first when he pushed it into me, but he was gentler than Hasan, and I soon got used to his length and girth.
He fucked me slow, and deep to the balls, enjoying every stroke in my pussy, as he leaned down to kiss me and rub my nipples. Chandu was standing by the bed stroking what looked like a thick, eight-inch cock, and said, “Jen, I hope I can still feel your pussy around my cock after Badri finishes fucking you with his monster meat. I wish I knew you had a thing for Indian cocks earlier in the week, and I should have known you’d be just another American whore, who probably fucks all her customers to make the sales numbers you have.”
Badri had been excited watching Hasan fuck me, and then from eating me out, and he lasted only about four minutes in my pussy. He held his cock against my cervix, and I felt it pulsing and his cum shooting into me. He was breathing hard, and said, “Fuck yeah, bitch, take my fucking seed into your womb.”
He kept fucking me for what seemed like five minutes as his cock softened in my pussy, and he finally pulled out, before moving down to eat his own cum. Chandu moved between my legs when Badri was finished, and he alternated kissing me and sucking my breast, as he pounded me hard and fast as Hasan had done. He finally ejaculated and flooded my womb with his huge load of Indian cream.
Badri then moved in to suck my pussy clean again, before saying, “This is the best pussy we’ve had in a long time, and even your small tits are perky and tasty.”
I didn’t remember much after that and must have fallen asleep on those cum-stained sheets for several hours. When I woke up, I saw my clothes strewn across the floor, and for a minute didn’t know where I was. Then I looked down and saw the hickeys on my breasts, and some dried cum on my pubis and inner thighs and remembered that I had been fucked and ejaculated into by three, horny, Indian men. I panicked and got dressed quickly, not putting my panties on until I opened the door.
Everyone had left except for Chandu and Badri, and Craig who was still passed out on the couch. I woke him up and was embarrassed facing Chandu, asking him to take us back to our hotel, hoping that Craig wouldn’t notice that I smelled like a fucking whore. Craig passed out when you got back to our room, and that gave me time to soak in a hot, soapy bath, to try to wash the stain of my adultery, at least from my body.
We slept in the next day, before taking a tour of several interesting attractions, and I was careful not to let Craig see the hickeys on my breasts. His mind was foggy about the whole evening at Badri’s, and I told him, “Nothing much happened, honey, and after you passed out, I just socialized with the married couples, and tried to stay away from that guy, Hasan, who you had a run-in with.”
He was trying to remember, and said, “Yeah, I know that I passed out, but I kept fading in and out of consciousness, and a couple of times I thought I heard people cheering. What was that all about?”
I lied, saying, “Oh, that. I think they had a soccer match on, and everyone was cheering for their favorite team.”
We both sleep well on the night before our trip home. My pussy was still sore two days later from all the fucking, and fortunately, for a couple of reasons, I got my period on the morning of our trip home. At least that would keep Craig from trying to fuck me for a few days, giving my slutty, adulterous pussy time to recover.”
Life returned pretty much to normal when we returned to Philadelphia, except that some of my coworkers teased me about my trip, saying things that almost made me think that Chandu had told them about me being such a whore.
For example, one saleslady that I was always in fierce competition with, sarcastically said, “You’ve sure looked tired since coming back from Chennai. I’ve heard that the men there can be very assertive with pretty, white, American ladies, and I hope you were able to handle them okay.”
Sometimes I’m embarrassed, angry, and down on myself for cheating on Craig that way, and I’m pretty sure that I’ll never do anything like that again. But, I also think about how good it felt being ravished by those big cocked, Indian men, and even the naughty feeling of having been a whore for those few hours, and wonder if I would do it again, under similar circumstances.
From that day forward, whenever I read stories about Indian men fucking white, American, married women, I can’t help that my pussy gets wet with the memory of what I experienced that one fateful night in Chennai. And since I never found the bottoms of my bikini that night, I can envision Hasan having and using them to smell the aroma of my pussy and showing them to his friends as his badge of honor, for fucking Jen, the white whore from America.
