Affair with motel wife

The day I met the Shahs, it was raining like crazy. A very unusual thing for Los Angeles.

I walked from the bus station to the motel. By the time I reached the place, I was totally

soaked.

At the motel front desk, the Shahs were talking to each other. Arvin Bhai was a good-

looking man with dark skin in his late thirties. But his wife Prateema Bhabi was in a league

of her own. She was nearer to my age, in her early twenties. She was pretty enough to star

in any Bollywood movie.

Arvin Bhai greeted me with a smile. But after I introduced myself, the smile disappeared. I

was looking for a part-time job while I was studying for my Bachelors in the US. A friend

had told me Arvin Bhai was looking for someone for his motel. Unfortunately, the friend

had forgotten to call about it. So Arvin Bhai wasn't particularly thrilled to see a stranger

show up at his doorstep asking for a job. He questioned me thoroughly about the friend.

"Do you think you can handle the guests?" Arvin Bhai asked after he was satisfied with my

answers about the mutual friend. Prateema Bhabi was staring at me with her distractingly

beautiful eyes. She had a straightforward way of looking at you.

"I think so," I said. "I can learn fast."

"That's what everyone says," Prateema Bhabi said with a smile.

I stayed silent.
"Let me call and verify who you are. If everything checks out, you can start this weekend,"

Arvin Bhai said.

"Sure."

Arvin Bhai took out his mobile phone and stepped out of the reception area to call my

friend who recommended me. There was a moment of awkward silence as Prateema Bhabi

and I stood there in the reception room. I noticed the beautiful henna tattoo going from her

hand to the sleeve of her blouse.

"Dheeraj is a nice name." She broke the silence.

"Prateema is a nice name too."

The moment I said it I realized that it was an inappropriate thing to say. After all, she was

going to be my boss. But she didn't seem to notice.

"How old are you?" she continued.

"Twenty-three."

"Don't you miss India?" she said.

"Yes, a little bit," I said

"I miss my family a lot. I get lonely here," Prateema Bhabi said.

"How long have you been here?" I asked.

"A year." She sighed.

"It gets better. My first year was the worst." I was lying. It doesn't get better.
At that moment, Arvin Bhai came back. "Everything checks out with your friend. You can

start this weekend."

I told Arvin Bhai that I'd be there and left.

On my way back to the university campus, I kept picturing Prateema Bhabi. I was very

lonely in Los Angeles. All my friends in America were guys. I didn't understand the whole

American dating scene. Also, it felt bad trying to date when your parents are sending you a

bunch of dollars to study. So it was a lonely life.

Reema was my girlfriend in Delhi. She was my first and only. We occasionally kissed. She let

me touch her boobs sometimes. It always stopped at that. But right before coming to

America, she told me she wanted to try it with me.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yes," she said.

A friend let us have an evening in his house while his parents were away. The whole thing

started off awkward. Initially, she didn't want to get naked. So we kissed for a while. I could

feel her body heating up. I kissed her breasts and sucked on her nipples with her salwar

and kameez on. I still remember the bright yellow kameez she was wearing. Even with her

clothes on, I could feel her hard nipples. When I let my hand roam to her salwar bottom and

touched her, I almost took my hand away. She was burning hot. I untied the knot of her

salwar bottoms and pulled it down. She wasn't wearing any panties. This was the first time

I was seeing her womanhood. Actually, it was the first time for me to see a pussy in real life.

She had dark curly hair and her nether lips were glistening with wetness.
"You like it?" she asked me.

"Yes," I said.

"Get your pants off."

Even though she had never given me a full blowjob, she had caressed and kissed my dick a

few times in the park. So it wasn't a totally new thing to her. She touched my shaft and then

caressed my balls. Her warm tongue was magic. I was kind of afraid to look at my own dick.

The head was so large that it seemed like it was going to explode. She took the head inside

her mouth. Her warm mouth engulfed it. I just couldn't hold it anymore. I couldn't even say

anything. I came in her mouth. She was surprised. My ears were still buzzing from my

orgasm. I never felt my body so light.

"Sorry," I said. "I couldn't control it."

She smiled at me. She was really nice about it.

"No problem. I enjoyed it."

"Would you take the kameez off?" I said. "I really want to see you naked."

She took off the kameez. Her breasts were beautiful, small and perky. The room air was

thick with our musky smell of sex. I lied down beside her. I started to kiss her neck and take

in her smell. Her hand was first on my chest. It started to move down my belly to my pubic

hair. Then her hand started to caress my sleeping cock. She rubbed off some of my come

from the tip of my cock and started to rub the slippery stuff over the shaft. Under her soft

caress, I started to get hard again.

I kissed her on the lips. We kissed deeply. I promised myself that this time I wouldn't come

so easily. Her hand was hungrily playing with my cock.

"Reema," I whispered into her ear as I kissed her warm earlobe. "Go slow. This time I want

you to come."

She giggled. We started to kiss again. The kisses were deeper. Her scent was so sweet and

unique. Her cheeks were flushed and hot with passion. By this time, my cock was hard as a

rock again. I roamed down from her mouth to her breasts. I started to take turn sucking her

nipples. Reema's one hand was on my head playing with my hair while the other one was in

between her own legs. She had two of her fingers in herself. I also wanted to touch her. So I

started to move down with each kiss. My kisses traveled from the valley between her

breasts to her navel to the curly soft hair of her underbelly.

The scent between her legs was intoxicating. For a moment, I forgot where I was. Her smell

seemed to have ignited a fire in my whole body.

I got off the bed, pulled her body almost roughly to the side of the bed, so I could have full

access to her pussy. I took a deep breath of her between her legs.

"You smell so delicious," I said.

Reema's beautiful eyes were dreamily looking at me.

I put my tongue between her legs and tasted Reema intimately for the first time. She tasted

salty and musky. As my nose rubbed against her clit, I could feel her body shiver with

pleasure. I licked her pussy lips and her clit. Her heat was so intense I felt like if I poured

water on her it would turn into steam. I stopped for a moment and she sighed, "Don't stop."
I put the tip of my tongue on her clit and pressed it gently. She gave out a whimper. I

hungrily started to lap up the clear liquid gather between her nether lips.

"Come here," Reema said with her hands extended. "Kiss me."

I stood up. My cock felt hard and heavy like it was made of metal. I laid down beside Reema

and started kissing her. Her hand was back on my cock.

She smiled. But we didn't say anything. I slid into her. After I was in her, feeling the full

warmth of her body on mine, she whispered to me, "You're so hard." Her breath brushed

warmly against my shoulder.

I instantly felt sad. I knew both of us would remember this moment the rest of our lives. It

was the first time for both of us. We continued with the act but the magic was gone.

Something had happened at that moment. There was a disconnect somehow. I finished

unenthusiastically. Of course, she didn't come but pretended that everything was okay. We

got dressed in silence, cleaned up the place and left.

After I came to America, we stayed in touch for a few months. Then it was evident that we

were moving apart. She told me that she had met someone in Mumbai where she was going

to a university. I didn't feel jealous. We said our goodbyes over the phone. Next summer,

when I went to India to visit, I didn't even try to get in touch with her.

Since that encounter, I spent the life of a monk. In America, once a friend took me to a

prostitute. When she unzipped my pants and started to give me a handjob, her rough hands
were uncomfortable and the woman was really old. So I pulled my pants up and told the

woman that I wasn't into it and paid her a tip and walked out of the establishment.

Obviously, Prateema Bhabi had reignited the fire in me. The next few nights, I couldn't help

myself but imagine Prateema Bhabi and how her body looked naked underneath the red

sari she wore. I was both excited about the weekend and afraid of the weekend. I made up a

fantasy of Prateema Bhabi wearing the same yellow salwar kameez that Reema was

wearing when we had sex. It excited me beyond anything else I had ever imagined. I guess

it was the mixing of the familiar and the unfamiliar that made the fantasy so convincing. I

knew I wanted to hold Prateema Bhabi in my arms.

My job at the motel was working as the night clerk. I would work whole Friday nights at the

front desk to help customers get rooms. During the day, I would sleep in one of the motel

rooms and repeat the same thing on Saturday nights.

The Shahs lived in an apartment directly connected to the reception room of the motel. But

I rarely saw them. When I came to work, Arvin Bhai would show me the accounts and tell

me about the reservations. Then he would disappear behind the door adjacent to the

reception room. He would relieve me of my duties in the morning. I would sometimes get

glimpses of her, but it was rare. In some ways, I was relieved. Indian communities in

America are small. If something happens, news travels fast.

After a month, I received a call from Arvin Bhai during the weekday which was uncommon.

"Could you come over this Wednesday night and do the whole weekend?"

"But I have a class on Thursday," I said.

"Can't you skip? I'm in a little bit of a problem. I have another motel in Arizona. I need to go

there for the next few days. Prateema can take care of the motel during the day. But during

the night, I need someone. I don't want her to be alone handling the place."

My heart skipped a beat. I was going to be alone with her. I wanted to say "Yes" right then.

But I relented.

"But Arvin Bhai..."

"I'll pay double."

I stayed silent for a second. It couldn't have worked out better for me. I get paid double for

something I already wanted to do.

"Sure, I'll just get the lecture notes from someone."

"Great!" Arvin Bhai was happy.

When I reached the motel the next day, Arvin Bhai was already in a suit ready for his flight.

He was in a hurry.

"You're are in charge of the night shifts. Prateema will take care of the day. Got it?"
A taxi was waiting outside the motel. Prateema Bhabi followed him out. Before he hopped

into the taxi, he planted a kiss on her cheek. But she seemed unresponsive.

When she came back into the reception area, I said, "Arvin Bhai seemed like he's going to a

wedding."

Prateema Bhabi looked at me angrily. "What did he tell you?"

"Nothing," I said. "He told me that there was a problem with a motel in Arizona."

"There's no problem," she said her voice still angry. "Get the books."

I opened the reservation book. Arvin Bhai liked to write down reservations. It seemed like

he didn't trust the computers. She explained to me some of the bookings. But I couldn't

concentrate. She was standing beside me and I could smell her perfume. And my elbow was

just near her elbow. I could feel a tightening in my pants. Even if nothing happened,

spending four uninterrupted days interacting with this gorgeous woman was going to be

great. Everything seemed great except for the fact that she was upset about something.

After she finished explaining the reservations I said, "Sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to

upset you."

She looked straight at me. She had beautiful, clear eyes with tinges of brown and green

mixed.

"Arvin has gone to Arizona to meet his mistress."

I didn't know what to say. I just said, "Oh!"

"She lives in Arizona. She is almost her second wife."

"So there's no motel?" I asked.

"There's actually a motel. She takes care of it."

"Fuck!" I said. I realized what I just uttered. But it was already too late.

"Yes, fuck. That's what they are going to do."

Hearing her say the word fuck only made my dick get harder. I wanted to kiss her. I looked

at her lips. They were so red and luscious.

"Do you have everything you need?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Okay. Good night." As she walked away, I saw her ample back move to the sway of her sari.

She closed the door. I was left in the reception room with my erection and wondering what

was going on with Arvin Bhai and Prateema Bhabi's marriage.

Wednesday afternoons aren't that busy in the motel business. So I sat there reading a book

trying to stop my mind from fantasizing about Prateema Bhabi. There was just a door

between us. The whole idea of being so alone and near a woman was erotic. Also, I couldn't

imagine how Arvin Bhai could have another mistress. It wasn't about Prateema Bhabi's

beauty. It was more that Arvin Bhai didn't seem like the kind of guy who would cheat on his

wife. He seemed like a guy more in love with money than women. Prateema Bhabi seemed

more the vixen type. Then again, because she was attractive, I might have been projecting

my own biases.
Around midnight, the door between the reception room and the apartment opened.

Generally, the door opened in the morning. So I was a bit startled.

"Do you need anything? Food or drink?" She seemed to have gotten her happy demeanor

back. Instead of a sari, she was wearing a nightgown. It wasn't sexy at all. She was

obviously getting ready to go to bed.

"No, I'm good," I said.

"Well, if you need anything just knock on the door," she said smiling sweetly.

"Sure," I said.

She closed the door. I could hear the click of the lock. I was totally confused. She was giving

me mixed signals. There was no need to ask me if I needed anything, the Shahs never did

ask me before. At the same time, she was wearing the unsexiest nightgown possible. She

still looked good because she was pretty. But the clothes she was wearing wasn't "come

hither" invitation. When in doubt about mixed signals from a woman, it's better to be on

the side of caution. I tried to forget the whole thing.

In the morning, she opened the door. She was wearing a blue sari with a blue blouse. It

made her eyes pop. She looked really pretty.

As I showed her the nights business receipts, she was standing a few inches from me

freshly bathed and perfumed. It seemed the blue blouse was tighter and showing more

cleavage than usual. But I was tired. I just wanted to get out of the front desk area and go to

bed.
After showing her the accounts and night receipts, I took a key and walked past her with

my backpack lowered in a way to avoid bringing attention to my crotch. I had gotten a

boner while talking to her.

I went to the assigned motel room I was supposed to sleep during the day. But my mind

was too wound up. I kept picturing her cleavage in her blue blouse. I couldn't sleep. I went

into the shower and relieved my hardness by thinking how it would feel to kiss her breasts.

The next night my shift started the same way. Prateema Bhabi came over and asked if I

needed anything. But she was not in her nightgown this time. She was wearing a yellow sari

with a red blouse that had silver embroidery on the helms. Of course, the yellow color

against her beautiful milky skin and dark hair just make her look fabulous. I could see

glimpses of her belly. She had a henna tattoo on her belly of the same pattern as her hands.

It was sexy. I was turned on. It didn't seem like she was ready to go to bed. She wanted to

talk.

"When did you last go back to India?" she asked.

"Last summer," I said.

She sighed. "I miss my parents and my brothers so much. And I miss Mumbai. There's so

much to do there. Los Angeles is so boring."

"It's actually not that bad," I said. "In LA, you have to go to the west side to have fun. This

motel area is more industrialized, more for working-class people."

"Do you live in the westside?" she asked.

"No," I said. "It's too expensive. But I go out there to the clubs sometimes."

"I tell Arvin to take me to the clubs. But he always feels tired. That is what happens when

you marry an old guy. I bet he takes his Arizona woman everywhere."

I didn't like the way the conversation was going. But I was curious to find out.

"What's the story there?"

"She's the love of his life. But his parents didn't like her family. So his parents gave her the

boot. He left in anger and came to America and built the motel business. She got married to

an engineer and was living in Arizona. Arvin never knew about it. After our marriage, he

found out when she divorced her husband. So Arvin hired her into the motel."

"You knew all about this?"

"Yes. He told me before hiring her."

"And you agreed?"

"We decided that it's better to have an open marriage."

"What do you mean?"

"I like men. I like men a lot," she said. "He can have the love of his life. In exchange, I can be

with anyone I want."

I was speechless. She said it so nonchalantly, I was trying to decipher if she was being

serious or not.

She continued, "Do you think my husband who owns a whole slew of businesses is naive?

He knows what he was doing. He left you here alone with me for a reason."
She was directly looking at my eyes waiting for an answer. When I didn't say anything, she

said, "Come in."

I followed her crossing the threshold of the door that separated the front desk area from

the apartment. This was the first time I had stepped into the living quarters of the Shahs.

The furniture, the decor, even the Persian carpet on the floor had an Indian-ness about it.

"Do you want a cup of tea?" she said.

It was nearer to midnight.

"What about the front desk?" I asked.

"Don't worry. I'll turn on the motion detector."

She clicked a switch on the side of the room and a small TV screen turned on. The screen

was showing the parking lot area of the motel.

My eyes didn't stay too long on the TV screen. She was making tea in the open kitchen area

that was on one side of the living room. She looked gorgeous in her yellow sari and red

blouse.

"Do you want some Parle biscuits? I got them recently. It was great finding Indian biscuits

in the grocery store," she said.

"Sure," I replied.

It was a little bit daunting. I wasn't sure if I was there to have sex with her or if she was

being really nice. When I was with Reema, everything always seemed infused with drama

and intrigue. Prateema Bhabi was so casual about the whole situation that it felt like a
nightmare where everything is so calm that you expect something bad to happen any

minute.

She came over with two cups of tea and biscuits on a tray. She sat down beside me. I was

impatient. I wanted to make sure things were going the place I think it was going. So I

intentionally put my hand on her thigh. She was pouring milk into the tea. She looked up

and smiled at me. Her eyes said, yes, it is what you think it is.

She handed me a cup of tea with a biscuit on the side of the saucer. The tea spiced with

cinnamon and ginger was amazing and the sweetness of the Perle biscuit dipped in the tea

was delicious. Any other time, I would have savored the taste. But I was in a hurry. I was so

nervous that I felt that if I wasn't careful I might choke on the biscuit. We drank our tea and

ate our biscuits in silence.

After we finished with the tea, she took the tray and put it in the kitchen sink. I followed her

to the kitchen. From behind her, I put my hand on her belly below her blouse. Her belly was

flat and even and her skin smooth and warm. I mildly pulled her towards me. Her back was

now touching my hard dick and my face was in her hair, near her neck. Her hair smelled of

flowery shampoo. She started to breathe heavily. I turned her around and kissed her. First

on the corner of her mouth, then fully on her lips. Our tongues started to play with each

other. I could smell the cinnamon and the biscuits. I was quite a bit taller than her. So her

hands moved on to my wide shoulders and she was tiptoeing to kiss me.

I picked her up into my arms. She was very light.

"Where's the bedroom?" I asked.

She pointed at a door. I carried her over.

The bedroom was clean with white linens and painting of a sunset near the headboard of

the large bed. I let her on to the bed. The hem of her sari had slipped from her blouse. Her

cleavage was clearly visible. I noticed she had a tiny birthmark on her right breast.

I took off my shoes and climbed into the bed. She was smiling. Her lipstick was a bit

smeared from our kissing session.

"You're so damn beautiful," I said.

I kneeled over her and put my tongue in the area between the blouse and navel and kissed

the henna tattoo on her belly. The saltiness of her skin just made me harder.

I looked for the buttons on her red blouse. It was one of those blouses that had a zipper in

the back. I turned her around on the bed and unzipped her. I put my hand on her smooth

skin. There wasn't any bra. I could feel her body responding to my touch. I put my face on

her shoulders and took a deep breath of her hair and her scent. I started to massage her

shoulders feeling the silkiness of her warm skin. I could feel her relax and almost melt to

my touch. Her breathing was getting deeper.

I turned her over on the bed and took off the blouse. Her breasts were large. The nipples

were brown and hard. I brushed a nipple with the back of my hand. She gave out a sigh. She

was obviously enjoying the touches. I leaned over to put my mouth on a nipple and started

sucking on it. Her hand moved on to my head playing with my hair while I enjoyed the

warmth and softness of her breasts. But this time, my hardness was big enough that it was

fully visible through my pants. Her hand roamed to my crotch and took hold of the bulge.
She started to massage my bulge pretty roughly. My tongue and hands also started to get

rougher on her breasts. I laid down beside her and started to kiss her again while her hand

unbuttoned my pants. She slipped a hand into my underwear to my cock. She took out the

cock and held the rock hard shaft with a gentle squeeze.

"It's big," she said. It's always exciting when a woman talks about your manhood.

She started to stroke my cock. Her soft hands looked tiny on it. She was topless with her

large breasts bouncing with every movement of her body. Her hair was silky and flowing. It

was a beautiful sight. Her sari was pulled up to her knees exposing her beautiful legs. I was

enjoying the view. With her breasts out and her sari pulled up to her knees, she looked like

a gorgeous topless tribal woman.

I was still lying on the bed with my cock out and my pants pulled to my ankles. She stood

up on the bed and pulled the sari up to her waist exposing herself fully to me. She was

cleanly shaved. Her pussy lips were beautifully tight and engorged with passion.

"Do you want to eat this?" She asked.

I nodded my head.

She moved over. Now she was standing over me. From my lying position, I was directly

looking at her shaved womanhood. She slowly started to squat down until my face was

between her legs. Her pussy smelled of jasmine and her body scent. I extended my tongue

to take in her salty taste.

"Fuck me with your tongue," she said.

My tongue was on her clit. She gave out a moan. Her pussy lips were so smooth underneath

my tongue.

"Put a finger in my ass. Play with my ass," she said.

I tried to put my middle finger in there, but it was too tight. So I started massaging her

asshole while I kept licking her. She started to sway her hips to fuck my tongue. Then she

gave out a groan. She was coming. My face was drenched in her juices and her sweet smell.

She lay down beside me, still huffing and her sari still pulled up to her belly.

"That was intense," she said. "Did you like fucking me?"

"I didn't fuck you," I said.

"You just tongue fucked the hell out of me."

I had to agree that I did tongue fuck her. This dirty talk from her wasn't at all surprising. It

seemed like Prateema Bhabi was the kind of woman who would talk dirty to you.

"Do you want to fuck me more?" She asked.

"Yes," I said.

"How badly?"

"Really badly," I said.

She got up from my side and got on her four and turned around. Her sari was covering her

ass. She pulled it to expose her pussy and ass to me doggy-style.

"Do you want to fuck this?"

I got rid of the pants from my ankles and positioned myself behind her. The pussy and tight

ass looked so delicious. I squeeze the softness of her ass cheeks and then licked both her

wet lips and her asshole while placing my hands on her hips. I could feel her muscles

tighten up with pleasure and she was whimpering. My cock was so hard that I couldn't wait

anymore.

I took some of her juices and rubbed it on my cock to get it slippery. Then I slid my cock in

her. Her pussy was tight and burning hot. Both of us started to move slowly at first. I

started to increase the speed of my rhythm. I could feel her body was responding to my

movements. It felt like our bodies were connected and becoming a warm bundle of one

body. Every time I pushed in and my thighs touched are ass cheeks, we seemed to exchange

body heat with each other and get hotter. I lost track of time. I knew I was about to explode.

But then the way her body jerked, I knew she was coming and she moaned.

"Prateema! You're so hot!" I said. My hands on her hip felt her body quiver with waves of

her orgasm. She gave out a loud moan and said, "Oh! Fuck!". I started to pound her hard. I

was on the precipice.

I couldn't hold it in any longer and I started to spray hold gulps of seed into her. It seemed

like a river of hot lava was flowing from my body into her. She understood that I had come.

She slowly laid down. But I didn't want to still lose the warmth of her. I laid down on her

with my still hard dick inside of her and our mutual juices wetting my thighs and her ass

cheeks.

I kept smelling her hair. I was in paradise, in bliss. I could feel her heart still beating fast.

We lay there for a long time enjoying the warmth of each other's bodies.
After a while, we got up and took a shower together cleaning each other's intimate parts. In

the shower, when we were fully naked I enjoyed seeing every part of Prateema Bhabi's

body. She had beautiful dimples on the small of her back. Her breasts were exquisite and

her ass was tight and sweet. She also played with my dick. We had another session. But this

time it was fast. I fucked her in the shower while rubbing soap on her back.

Next morning Arvin Bhai returned. I was in one of the motel rooms sleeping when he

arrived. When I came to the front desk, he calculated the hours I spent working and paid

me.

"How was the work?" Arvin Bhai asked.

"Good," I said. I didn't want to sound too enthusiastic.

I worked in that motel for another six months. Every time Arvin Bhai went to Arizona,

Prateema Bhabi and I would have our mini-honeymoon. After my graduation, I had to move

away from Los Angeles, so there wasn't any way to continue the affair. I knew my parents

weren't going to accept a married woman. Also, the thing between us was very animalistic.

We wouldn't have made a good couple.

Since her, I have made love to a handful of other women. But Prateema Bhabi was

something else. Even now when I talk about her, my blood starts boiling. It was a

combination of her beauty and unapologetic sexuality. Every man needs to experience a

Prateema Bhabi in his life.