There was a guy a few seats away from me. Other than that the bar was empty. I suppose that isn't uncommon for a Thursday night. He smiled and said, "...ounds like someone is missing out on a good, loyal woman".I chuckled a little. Smiling at the nosey stranger I said, "Yeah, well I'm used to it. Should've expected it from him the minute he asked me to come down to visit. He has never been known to do right by me."The man moved closer. Sitting in the seat next to me, he said, "Where are ya from. 3 hai aur figure takhreeban accha hai who village me rehti hai aur kabhi kabhi ghar ko atti hai mein un ki bahut izzath karta tha aur woh bhi mujhe appna beta maan ti thi ek bar jab woh hamare ghar ayee meri maa se milne garmioo ki chuti mei mein kabhi apni aunty ke bare mei ghalat nahi soch ta tha par jab meri ummar22 ke khareeb hui to mein har aurat aur ladkioo ko dek kar sonch ta tha ki inko to choadne mei kitna maza atta ho ga, ek din mere mama ki shadi me meri aunty hyderabad ayee to mama. Sometimes they sent me some pictures of their trip. Most of the time when I called them either my son is fucking my wife or they were doing some oral sex. I too masturbated imagining both of them in the snow-filled cold days and nights of Shimla and Manali.After 2 weeks they returned. I went to pick them up. I found my wife had become more charming than ever. I welcomed them. Later we went home after that trip. I shifted into my son’s room and my son shifted to my room. Every night I hear their. He did not let up but pushed deeply into her with a powerful stroke, pulled out and then pushed into her again, fucking her forcefully, deeply, rhythmically. Holding her thighs with his powerful forearms, she was utterly prone to him, his thing to play with and she surrendered entirely to his deep thrusts. There it was again - that feeling of letting go, of jumping off the cliff into the unknown, weightlessness. But it was more that than now: She was under his control, entirely at the mercy of.