When it rains, it pours

The speed with which the clouds

gathered and the skies opened

up took me by surprise. I was on

my scooter, driving back from a

work-related assignment in a

village about 100 km outside of

Delhi. Usually, I'd take the car for

such a distance, but it refused

to start in the morning. I

expected to return before

sunset, but the assignment had

taken longer than expected and

by the time I got done, the

villagers insisted I have dinner

before leaving.

So there I was, on my scooter,

close to 10 pm on a narrow local

road when it started raining cats

and dogs, as the cliche goes.

Since it wasn't the time for

monsoons, I expected the rain to

stop soon, so I just pulled over

by the side of the road and

stopped under a tree. Half an

hour later and the rain still had

not let up. I was completely

soaked, even under the tree. I

thought of calling home for a

rescue from my predicament as

I reached into my purse to take

my cellphone out, I felt certain

dampness.

That's when I realized I had taken

my fabric purse, which was

obviously not waterproof. The

cellphone was also wet, and had

conked off. Great, I thought to

myself. Stuck here with out a

working cellphone on a highway

late at night. Some vehicles were

passing by. I thought of flagging

one down. But there had been so

many news stories recently

about a group of men in their

cars or SUVs kidnapping women

from the roadside and raping

them, that I did not feel

comfortable doing so.

I decided the best course of

action was to drive until I

reached some village, and then

make a call from there. So I got

on my scooter and drove for

about half a km when

putt..puttt..putt...hisssss. The

scooter engine just stopped with

some ominous noises. I tried to

restart it. Even tried the manual

kick-start. Did not work. Great.

As if things couldn't get any

worse. Now I was soaked to my

skin, with my scooter and cell

phone refusing to work,

stranded on a deserted road at

almost 11 pm.

I stood there re-evaluating the

option of flagging down a car.

The rain had gotten even harder

now, definitely the heaviest

downpour in the region in years.

Finally I decided to take the

chance and stood by the edge of

the road waiting for some

vehicle to pass by. Nothing Zip.

Nada, for about 10 minutes. Not

a single car or truck. Was I in the

twilight zone, I wondered. That's

when I noticed a guy on one of

those old rusty bicycles

approaching from the Delhi side.

He was wearing a raincoat, and

had his eyes on the road, so did

not notice me immediately. I

called out to him and he stopped.

Crossed the road and came

close to me. Hello my scooter

has broken down and my phone

isn't working either. Do you have

a cellphone on you?" I asked in

Hindi. The man pushed his hood

back. He was bald and in his 40s.

Wiped the water from his face

and replied in Hindi, Cellphone? No.

I don't own a cellphone. But I am a

mechanic. Want me to take a

look at that scooter?

Oh, thank you. It will be great if

you can fix it. He got off his

bicycle, and started examining

my scooter. Why are there no

cars at all on this road? It's a

pretty bad storm, Madam. Trees

fallen all over. The road is shut on

the Panipat side about a km that

way. And on the Delhi side a

couple of km that way. I was just

cycling back home from the

garage I work at. It's just a km

away. This did not sound good.

If the road was closed both

ways, how was I to get home?

The man realized what I was

thinking from the worried look on

my face and said, Don't worry

about the Delhi side. They were

saying it will be cleared within an

hour. It's not a very big tree,

they say. He looked under the

scooter a few times. Took the

toolbox out of the side-box and

puttered around and tried to

start it a few times. And then

said to me, Sorry, Madam.

There is thingummy thingummy

with the thing ummy of the

thingummy and we need a

thingummy". Well, that's not

exactly what he said. But I am a

total dunce when it comes to

automobiles so he might as well

have said that and I wouldn't

have understood it any less.

Alright, so can you fix it?" I

asked. No, not here. Don't have

the tools and parts for it. But if

you like, we can go to my garage.

It's just a km away.

We'll get there in no time. There's

also a phone in the garage, so

you can call someone and have

them pick you up. That sounded

like the best possible option. So

we set off on foot towards his

garage. Him dragging my

scooter, and me rolling his

bicycle along, So Madam, if you

don't mind. What is your name?

Mukta" I replied, and out of

courtesy asked him, "and what is

your's?

I am Zahid Qureishi.

If you don't mind my asking what

is a young lady like you doing

here at this time? We usually

don't get Delhi 'memsaahibs' in

our parts. I had some work in a

village near Panipat, I was driving

back when this storm started.

Yes, this storm is really

unexpected. Never seen it rain

like this even in the monsoons.

He stayed silent after that, but I

noticed that he'd keep stealing

glances at me. I had been so

preoccupied with thinking about

the scooter and how to get

home, that I didn't realize how

completely soaked I was.

Fortunately, as I always do while

on village assignments, I was

wearing a very conservative

salwar-kameez (google it if you

don't know what that is), with a

long scarf around my neck and

chest. But even so, being as

soaked as I was, the fabric was

hugging some curves of my body

more tightly than it ever would.

Nothing too scandalous, mind

you, but I am sure it was

titillating enough for a middle

aged car mechanic like Zahid. His

name indicated he was Muslim

and Muslim women in those

parts dressed very

conservatively.

So I must have been quite a sight

for him. I tried not to think too

much about it though. Apart

from a few glances, which were

perfectly normal for any male,

he had been very polite and well-

behaved. I did not feel

threatened by him at all. Finally

we reached the "garage. I use

quote marks because calling it a

garage would be too effusive. It

was just a small tin shack,

probably no bigger than the

average bedroom. There was a

rusty signboard on top saying

"Madinaah Atto Garriage" with

some Arabic phrases on it.

Zahid put my scooter on its side-

stand and banged the metal door

of the shack. Who is it? came a

thick voice from inside. Mansoor,

it's me Zahid. Open up. The door

creaked open and out peered a

man I guessed to be Mansoor. He

was shirtless and wearing a dirty

pair of boxer shorts. He was a

small man, shorter than me, and

I am just 5 ft 3. I had a thick

beard, and curly gray hair. I'd

guess him to be older than Zahid,

maybe in his 50s. What

happened?" he asked, staring at

me.

This is Mukta Madam. She was

driving back to Delhi when her

scooter broke down. I saw her

when I was going home, so

brought her here. Hmpfff , ok

bring it in." Mansoor said and

opened the folding doors

completely. Zahid and I walked in.

It was, as I said, a small shack.

There was a small mattress in

the corner where I guess

Mansoor slept. The rest of the

shack was filled with two-

wheelers, their parts and other

tools.

The whole place also reeked of

something I couldn't quite place,

probably just grease and male

sweat. In another corner was a

chair with a table, and on top of

the table, a telephone. Can I use

the phone?" I asked yes sure."

Mansoor said as he started

opening the scooter's casing. I

picked up the receiver and held it

to my ear. Silence and No dial

tone. There is no dial tone" I said.

Mansoor came over and took the

phone from me.

As he did, I could not help but

notice his still shirt-less torso. It

was hairy, and he had a big pot

belly. There were some stains of

grease on his belly, chest and

arms. I guess the storm knocked

the lines out. Oh. Is there

someone close by with a

cellphone?" I asked. There's just

our garage and two other shops

here - one a tea stall and

another for hardware. Both are

closed, and the guys who run

them don't stay in the shops like

me. You will have to walk a couple

of km that way for any other

shops or houses."

I weighed my options. It was still

raining pretty hard. I could walk

to the other shops. But maybe I

could just wait for these men to

fix my scooter and then drive.

Zahid was already working pretty

hard at it. Mansoor went and

stood next to him and they

started discussing whatever

was to be done. That's when my

sneezes started. Achoo's after

achoo's. About a dozen or so and

looks like you are catching a cold

because of your wet clothes.

Mansoor said looking at me. "If

you want, I can give you a clean

shirt and a lungi to change into.

No, that's fine. I can wait. It won't

take long to fix this anyway,

right? It will take about an hour,

and he was interrupted by

another bout of sneezing from

me. After my sneezes subsided,

he looked pointedly at me. I could

feel the sneezes getting worse. I

decided that it would be stupid to

risk getting pneumonia when

there was an option to change

out of my wet clothes.

Ok, I suppose I should change

Mansoor went to the corner and

opened a box. He took out a

towel, a relatively clean t-shirt,

and a lungi. A lungi, for those who

don't know, is a sarong-like wrap

that many Indian men wear. He

gave it all to me and said as you

can see, there is no other room.

You can change in here. Zahid and

I will wait outside." They walked

out and I went to close the door.

It was just a rusty bolt which I

slid into the loop.

There was a nail hanging from a

thread from the bolt. The

purpose of the nail, as I later

realized, was to be inserted into

a hole at the end of the bolt, to

act like some sort of a lock. I

didn't realize it then and left the

nail hanging as it was instead of

inserting it into the hole. Which,

ironically, lead to further events,

I should have moved to the back

of the shack to change. But

whether it was the greasy smell

or just laziness, I did not. I

started changing just a couple of

feet inside the closed door.

I then took off my salwar and

kameez which were by now

dripping with water. I thought for

a second about keeping my bra

and panties on, but they were

too wet. So I took them off too,

and got completely naked. I took

the towel and started drying

myself. I was drying my hair

when it happened. The wind

suddenly picked up, and the door

started shaking from the wind. A

big and audible gust of wind

came and as if in slow motion, I

saw the bolt sliding back under

the pressure.

In what must have been just a

second, but felt like an eternity,

the bolt slid back completely and

the folding doors opened with a

bang. Zahid and Mansoor who had

been standing with their backs

to the door were startled by the

noise and turned around. I stood

there motionless with my hands

holding the towel to my hair, as

Zahid and Mansoor stared at me

dumbfounded. There I was,

completely naked. In front of two

men I had just met. I was caught

in two minds about what to do.

Whether to cover myself up or

close the door and my first

instinct was to grab whatever I

could and cover my nakedness. I

had grabbed and picked up my

salwar and kameez which were

bundled together on the floor at

my feet. I held them in front of

me and then ran forward to

close the door again. Which was

a big mistake and the gusty wind

which had blown the door open

was still blowing strong. My

hands were wet and slippery, as

were the clothes. So the gust of

wind blew my salwar and kameez

out of my hand and outside on to

the street and into the

darkness.

And once again my nakedness

was visible to the two men who

were still standing rooted to

their spots, a few feet away

from the door. I now decided to

close the door first. Because of

my hair getting in my face, I was

struggling to pull the door back

against the wind gusts when

whoooshhh something else flew

by me. The shirt, towel and lungi

that Mansoor had given me had

also flown out. Those were the

last possible things to cover

myself with. I could now think of

no short term fix to my visible

nakedness.

I sank to the ground, wrapped

my hands around my folded

knees, and hid my face in them,

hoping this would at least hide

my boobs and pussy. The face

was hidden mainly out of shame.

In a few seconds I heard

someone walk in and close the

door. I also heard a chuckle, and

then realized, I had heard only

one set of footsteps. I looked up

and saw Mansoor putting the nail

into the hole of the bolt.

You didn't put this nail in, did you?

I thought it was obvious that's

what it was there for." he said. I

just started at him, red-faced.

"Well, Zahid is out there running

after your clothes to get them

back. Good man, that Zahid.

Always does the right thing. I, on

the other hand, just had to have

another look. Hehe. Come on,

don't be shy. I've seen everything

anyway."

Mansoor was now standing right

above me. He was fully drenched,

as were his boxer shorts, and his

erection was adding to the

effect, leaving little to

imagination. I could not help but

stare at his penis and testicles

outlines through the wet shorts.

Which turned out not to be a

smart thing because he noticed

what I was looking at and said,

Oh, that interests you? Well,

fair's fair. You showed me

everything, so the polite thing

would be to do the same." and in

one motion he slid his shorts

down. I stared even harder. His

dick was circumcised, like all

Muslim men. I had so far been

with only Hindu men, and the only

circumcised dicks I had seen

were in porn films. I had often

fantasized about what it would

feel like to touch one, take it

inside, maybe even suck it. This

train of thought was running

through my head as I, almost

involuntarily, reached out and

touched the head of his dick. I

wrapped my fingers around it

and shook it around playfully.

Almost at once, the realization

of what I was doing hit me and

my hand froze.

I looked up at him with

trepidation. He seemed at a loss

for a few seconds. So far his

behavior was mostly about

bravado and arrogant needling.

He probably expected me to feel

shy and shrink back. And frankly,

I would have expected the same

from myself. But my unexpected

reaction had surprised him as

much as it surprised me. We

were motionless like that for a

few seconds. I staring at him

with his dick in my hands, and

him standing there staring back

at me.

Who moved next would be crucial

in deciding the turn of events. If I

had shrunk back, or maybe

yelled at him, he would certainly

have backed off. But my

motionlessness gave him the

opening he needed. He bent down,

grabbed hold of my hair and

pushed my face towards his

dick. I let go of his dick as it hit

me on the cheek. He pushed my

head back and pulled it again, this

time the dick hit my closed lips. I

looked up at him, and our eyes

met.

He gave me a stern look, a primal

dominant male look which I tried

to return with a laboriously

mustered up look of

resentment. Then he smiled and

cocked his head to turn his gaze

lower. I followed his gaze and was

shocked at what I saw. My left

hand was fingering my clit. And I

was now on my knees. My body

was reacting entirely on its own

without keeping me updated. Heh

hahahaha" Mansoor started

laughing. I couldn't help breaking

into what they call a shit-eating

grin. I felt his grip on my hair get

tight again. He pulled my head

towards his dick. This time I

opened my mouth and let it in.

Immediate reaction gag reflex. A

combination of the strong stink

of his dick as well as the fact

that he had thrust his cock all

the way in and probably hit my

tonsils. He took the dick out. I

turned my head coughed a little.

Then turned back to face his

dick. Took it in my right hand and

started sucking on it slowly,

using my usual blowjob

technique. The foreskin-less

head that I had encountered for

the first time felt nice, almost

like a big lollipop. I took it out

occasionally to glance at it, gave

it a peck or two. I was like a little

kid transfixed by a new toy.

Mansoor was now moaning in

pleasure and running his hands

through my hair. His eyes were

closed and he seemed to be

enjoying this blowjob. I had been

sucking for a couple of minutes

when there was a knock on the

door. Mansoor clucked his tongue

in annoyance, and said, that is

Zahid. Damn, I forgot about him.

He took the three steps to the

door, and opened it. Zahid rushed

in, holding just my bra in his

hand, and closed the door.Sorry

Mukta Madam, the rest of it just

flew away. This was stuck in a

tree so his voice trailed off as he

took in the scene in front of his

eyes. Mansoor was standing

there naked with his dick erect. I

was on my knees with my left

hand still fingering my clit. He

looked at Mansoor and me turn

by turn, and then said, "Oh, I see

been years since we banged a

chick together, old friend."

Mansoor said, slapping him

playfully on the back.

He then walked past me towards

the mattress and lay down on it.

He then beckoned me to go to

him. But is she, I mean how

come, Zahid tried to string a

sentence together, "You're not

forcing her, right? There was

silence for a couple of seconds. I

realized Zahid was looking at me

for an answer. With this break in

the proceedings and Zahid's

question, I had suddenly become

doubly aware of the situation. I

had been willingly sucking a

strange man's dick, a fat old

stinky hairy mechanic's dick, and

had been fingering myself while

at it for good measure.

Had I been forced? Zahid's

question gave me an exit route if

I were to take it. I momentarily

even considered it. But the work

my fingers had been up to down

there had put me in a different

state of mind altogether. The

normal demure Mukta who had

struggled a few minutes back to

cover herself up and close the

door had seemingly been carried

away by the gust of winds with

the clothes. This Mukta was

possessed, consumed by the

most animalistic and basest of

instincts.

I got up from my knees and

stood up. Slowly walked towards

Zahid and took the bra from his

hands and flung it into some

corner. Then I turned around, and

walked towards Mansoor,

swaying my hips exaggeratedly,

giving Zahid a great look at my

butt. I reached the mattress and

got down on my knees between

Mansoor's spread legs. Bent

down and resumed my blowjob.

Zahid did not need an engraved

invitation after this. He was out

of his clothes in a jiffy and was

on his knees behind me. He

fondled, pinched and slapped my

tight round butt for a while. Then

put his finger in my pussy, and

chuckled at the wetness. And

very soon ahha cock in my

pussy. It had been weeks. After

experiencing how a circumcised

cock feels in the mouth, I was

now experiencing it in the pussy.

Not too different in the pussy,

I must say. But there was much

more to Zahid's cock than just

being circumcised. There was

girth, the sort that I had never

experienced before. Zahid drilled

me hard and fast. His hand kept

moving from around my waist,

up my back, playing with my

boobs, back to my waist,

grabbing my butt flesh and so

on. His intense fucking distracted

me from my sucking and I was

just holding Mansoor's dick in my

mouth.

Mansoor took the lead then. He

got on his knees, grabbed my

hair and started fucking my

mouth. I was being pistoned hard

at both ends, and was

experiencing a never-before

bliss. Mansoor then started with

his smack talk, Oh yes, oh yes,

you randi, you slut. You like this

don't you, you Hindu bitch? You

like being fucked by two Muslim

dicks. Don't you? Don't you?

Answer me, slut." and he took his

dick out of my mouth.

Mmmm hhhmm, I moaned in

response as Zahid was hitting

the right spots and the right

tempo.Say it, bitch. Say you like

being fucked by Muslim dicks.

Yes oooo aahhh I like ahmmmm

being fucked ahhhhhhh by Muslim

dicks. Ohhh Zaahidddddd" I yelled

as the first orgasm hit me. I

don't know if Mansoor making

me acknowledge the taboo

nature of this encounter played

a role in it, but I had an

extremely intense orgasm. I

yelled and shuddered as it lasted

longer than usual.

Hear the Hindu bitch scream with

pleasure." Mansoor said

triumphantly "Bet she is a

Brahmin bitch too. Are you? Are

you a Brahmin slut? Yesssss" I

exhaled. Zahid was still at it. His

longevity amazed me. No one I

had slept with before could keep

going this long at this pace and

tempo. With some starts and

stops, and some change in pace,

yeah, many had lasted longer.

But Zahid was able to keep going

at the same pace, even with the

friction that his thickness and

my relative tightness must have

generated.

Amazing! Mansoor meanwhile

resumed fucking my mouth. In a

couple of minutes, his grip on my

hair tightened even more and I

realized what was about to

come. Within seconds, my mouth

was flooded with a big load of his

cum. It took me three gulps, but I

swallowed it. Wow, look how

easily she swallows, our little

Brahmin whore." Mansoor said. He

took his dick out of my mouth,

and used my hair like a napkin to

wipe it off

Good for fucking and for

cleaning, Hahaha" he added. He

then backed away and sat there

looking at us. Zahid continued

fucking me. It was now close to

twenty minutes, I thought to

myself in the lustful haze, and he

hadn't paused at all, even for a

second. As if on cue, he paused

and took his dick out of my cunt

with a small plop sound. Get on

your back." he said, "I want to

look at your face. I turned

around and got on my back.

Zahid put his knees on either side

of my butt.

He then took my feet at put

them on his shoulder. Then with

his hands grabbing my boobs

hard, he rammed his dick into

me again. And I almost came

again. At this angle, he had

reached even farther inside and

touched places that had never

been touched. And he started

yet again, at that hectic pace,

fucking me. Zahid-miyaan."

Mansoor said, "Good to see your

stamina has only grown with age.

But remember, you already have

six kids. You don't want a

seventh, do you, if you know

what I mean.

Yeah, I know Zahid replied even

as he kept fucking me. "I'm not

planning on cumming inside her.

Unless she wants it I am mmmm

ohhhh on the pill. You can cum

inside. I managed to get the

sentences out. I really was on

the pill, and the way this man

was fucking me, I wanted him to

cum inside me. Haha, of course

she is. That's how all these

Brahmin sluts are. Taking pills so

they can go around screwing

Muslims they like." Mansoor said.

Will you shut up about the

Brahmin-Muslim thing? I'm sick of

it." Zahid said, partly in

embarrassment. But it probably

did have some effect. He took

his hands off my boobs and put

them around my thighs. Still on

his knees, he straightened up

from the waist, lifting my butt

off the mattress, and started

ramming my cunt even harder. I

sensed what was about to

happen, and realized this change

of posture had started my own

orgasm. Zahid thrust his hips

ahead, then back, ahead then

back.

My whole body moved with him

as we both had our orgasms.

Zahid exhaled loudly, let go oh my

feet and stayed like that on his

knees. I was still writhing with the

after-shocks of my orgasm. I

could still feel his dick hard inside

me for about a minute more. He

finally took it out and sat there. I

took my hand to my pussy and

could not believe the amount of

jizz that was coming out of it. I

sat up, unsure of what to say.

Zahid seemed to be thinking the

same thing. And Zahid's rebuke

had temporarily shut Mansoor's

mouth too. Mansoor did however,

come close to me and start

playing with my breasts. Let's

work on her scooter." Zahid said,

and Mansoor reluctantly let go of

my boobs and followed him. They

both put their clothes on and

started working on the scooter.I

lay there on the mattress for a

while to regain my breath. It was

still raining, but the intensity had

clearly waned.

I got up and walked towards the

table. Picked up the phone's

receiver aaaah. The dialtone was

back. Phone lines were back up

dialed my home number. Hello.

Mukta here, I said. Mukta, where

have you been? I was worried

sick!" my husband said, clearly

worried. Sorry honey." I replied,

"It started raining very hard and

the roads got dangerous, so I

decided to turn back and return

to the village to wait the storm

out. But my cellphone got wet

and stopped working. And the

landline connections were down

too, so could not call.

Oh okay. Thank heavens you're

safe. I was really worried. So

should I come there and pick you

up? It'll take me just two hours."

hubby dearest asked. I felt

something poke my butt. I

turned around to see Mansoor,

naked again, with his dick erect

once more, grinning at me. He

put his finger on my clit and bit

my ear, silently chuckling. No,

that's fine." I said, struggling to

sound normal. "They have put me

in a small guesthouse of sorts

here. I will be fine.

I don't want you to drive in these

conditions. I've heard there are

many fallen trees blocking the

road. Plus, you have to work

tomorrow. Just go to sleep. I'll

come back in the morning. Good

night, honey. Mansoor's finger at

my clit had now found just the

spot and it took monumental

effort to say that whole

statement normally. Ok, good

night. And take care. This is the

number I can reach you at? The

one you called from?"

Yes, honey. Bye, I banged the

phone down breathlessly, and

yelled at Mansoor, What the hell

were you trying to do?" Hehe. So

the Brahmin slut is a married

lady too. Where is your

mangalsutra? You take it off

when looking for men to

seduce?" he said, I don't wear

one. What do you want anyway?"

I looked over my shoulder at

Zahid who was still working on

the scooter.

As great as your mouth was, my

dick would like to taste your cunt

too like Zahid did.

Something to keep us busy while

Zahid fixes your scooter. Also, I

was thinking, let's not distract

Zahid in here. So here's an idea

fifteen minutes later. Wet grass

feels really odd and squishy on

the bare back and butt, I thought

to myself as Mansoor lay on top

of me, his pot belly frequently

brushing against the bottom of

my boobs and his bear brushing

against my face, as he fucked

me gradually. The rain was still

falling, but was now down to a

drizzle.

We were fucking under a tree,

about 50 metres away from the

garage. I had never fucked

outdoors in the rain before.

Mansoor was not as good at

fucking as Zahid, but was decent

enough. Ahh that's a tight little

cunt you have, Brahmin slut

what's the matter, your

husband's Hindu dick is too tiny?

With Zahid not around, Mansoor

had returned to his offensive

smack talk. But the

offensiveness was oddly turning

me on. And making me talk back

some smack too.

Unhh why are you so obsessed

with my being a Hindu Brahmin,

you dirty old man? Fucking

Muslim women must be like

fucking a dead fish." I said as I

put my hands on his butt and

pulled him deeper inside. He

seemed surprised at me talking

back. He paused for a bit, and

took his dick out. He pushed my

butt sideways and said, On your

knees, Hindu whore. I will now

fuck you like a dog fucks a bitch.

I smiled wryly at him him and did

as he said. He first spanked me

for a bit, mouthing more

obscenities. Then he pummeled

my pussy for a while more. I was

about to orgasm. Probably

sensing that, he suddenly

stopped and pulled his dick out.

Argghhh why did you stop? I

yelled at him at looked back. "I

was so close. Give me your left

hand" he said. What? Just give it

to me. I did as he said and now

your right hand.

It took some effort but I did. He

held my wrists together behind

my back, and my shoulder was

mid-air. He gently pushed it down.

My face was now on the wet

muddy grass, with my left cheek

touching the ground. That's when

I felt it and his dick touching my

asshole. Surely he wouldn't. No,

not there! I yelled and tried to

struggle. But his grip was strong.

Yes there. That's what you get

for talking trash to me, bitch.

Know your place.

And he pressed it into my

asshole. It's not like I hadn't had

anal sex before. I had. But it had

been a while. So it hurt initially.

But after a couple of inches had

gone it, it was like my asshole

remembered how it is done and

relaxed. Damn, look at how easily

it went in. You really are a whore.

You clearly have done this

before. Why the drama then? It

felt the weird kind of good that

anal sex always feels. The

pleasure more mental than

physical as it happened, he didn't

last too long after that.

Shot his load into my asshole and

then just lay there on top of me.

We walked back to the shack.

Zahid was sitting there, and my

scooter had been put back

together. I checked the clock. It

was almost 2 am. The scooter is

fixed. And the rain has almost

stopped you can go if you want.

But somehow I doubt you will

leave this soon." Zahid smiled at

me. I smiled back and said, Well,

you heard what I told my

husband. I am supposed to be in

the village. So I can't go home

right now. Is there room for me

to spend the night here?"

Hahh considering what we have in

mind, we don't need too much

room." Mansoor interjected.

Zahid, this bitch has a fine

asshole too. Remember how we

sandwiched that whore in Ambala

that time? I think that's

definitely on the cards. Just give

me twenty minutes to recover."

Hope you don't mind us getting a

head start then." Zahid said as

he took me to the mattress. He

took his clothes off and lay down

on his back. I climbed on top of

him, took his dick in my cunt and

started riding him. He started

thrusting upwards. Mansoor

stood close to us, staring, and

rubbing his dick.

They did sandwich me in a while.

Zahid in my pussy and Mansoor in

my ass. And it felt fulfilling. We

took a nap after that. But

Mansoor woke me up in an hour

and started fucking me. Zahid

also woke up and joined in. That's

how it went all night. In the

morning, my pussy was sore, as

was my asshole, so I slept in an

they kept the garage closed.

Zahid and Mansoor went and

searched my clothes and

brought them back. I had one

farewell fuck each with both of

them, and left for home. I

promised to come back and

spend another night with them,

but never did. But often when I

pass by their garage on my way

to some place near Panipat, I am

reminded of that crazy night.

And I feel tempted to stop and

look in on them.