Adultery Unfaithful Mothers and Housewives - Stranger_Women

He gently placed his hand on hers. Even in that hot weather, Mansi got tiny goosebumps at that touch. She was feeling a little flattered and also uncomfortable at the compliments about her figure. She was on her third drink on a mostly empty stomach. And over the previous week, she often found herself thinking about his touch, despite scolding herself about it.

"Please Duttsahab." she pulled her hand away after a few seconds. "You are embarrassing me."

"What is there to be embarrassed about? What did I say that was so wrong?" he said in a slightly hurt voice. "I am sure you must have heard such things from your husband all the time."

"Not...really." she said.

"You mean he doesn't shower you with compliments day in and day out?" Dutt said with exaggerated surprise.

"He is a different kind of man." Mansi laconically said. But she did find herself wondering why her husband never said such nice things.

"For what it's worth, Mansi." Dutt decided to take a small risk and gently stroked her left cheek with the back of his right fingers. "I think you are the most gorgeous woman here."

That made Mansi blush so much that she found herself rooted to her spot. Yet another gentle touch, yet another compliment.

"Thank you." she softly said after a few seconds.

"Anyway, I have to talk to a few more people." Dutt straightened and took a step back. "I see they are putting the food out. Why don't you serve us both a couple of plates and I will meet you at the dining tables over there?"

Before Mansi had fully come to terms with what had just happened, he had walked away. She saw that the spiffily dressed catering staff was indeed putting out a buffet of food in gleaming silver trays. She finished the mojito in three big sips and headed towards the buffet to serve food for her boss. Is that what he was, she asked herself, her boss? Or was there something more?

Dutt could sense that although Mansi was a little unnerved by his tender gestures, she wasn't explicitly rejecting him. By now, he had a good sense of what kind of a woman she was. A typical docile housewife with nothing exciting in her life. And based on what she said about her husband, it was obvious he was a geek completely immersed in academia, with little interest in treating his wife like a woman. Dutt was confident that with a little patience and by making the right moves, he would succeed in bedding this tender flower. But Reena was right. He needed to now push the envelope a little.

During lunch, they were joined by a couple of business executives whole talked shop with Dutt. Both were polite and courteous towards Mansi who seemed a little lost in thoughts. She was partly feeling drunk and partly confused about Dutt's gestures.

When they left the meeting and went to the car, not a word was spoken. But she noticed Dutt was standing a little closer to her than he usually would. And she noted that she didn't find it unwelcome. In fact there was a kind of exciting reassurance to his proximity.

"Let's go shopping." Dutt said as he got into the car.

"Maybe some other day. I need to get home." Mansi said.

"Nonsense. I know your daughter doesn't get home for a few hours." he said.

"Yes, but I need to do other household chores."

"You can do those later. Now, we are going shopping." he said firmly.

Mansi looked at him. This was a new side of the usually kind old man. She considered protesting a bit more. But then she decided, why not? She liked shopping. And nothing she had to do was very urgent.

"Okay." she meekly said.

Shortly, they were in a big clothing chain store in Worli. As soon as they walked in, Dutt got a call. He excused himself and answered it, taking care of a business. The call lasted almost fifteen minutes, so Mansi wandered away from him. It was a big store with three different floors. When the call got done, it took Dutt a little time to locate his young companion.

She was on the third floor, looking at children's clothes, which she loved doing. Just as he saw her, he was standing next to the women's western clothes section. he looked at a few of the dresses and mannequins.

"May I help you, sir?" a smart young saleswoman walked up to him.

"Yes, I need some nice dresses and skirts for...her." he pointed at Mansi who was busy looking at girls' frocks.

"Absolutely, sir. Do you know her size?"

"No, you can just go measure her."

Dutt turned around and started looking at the clothes on display, trying to decide what would look good on Mansi. A little while later, she was next to him, with the saleswoman next to her with a measuring tape in hand.

"Duttsahab." she said in a soft voice.

"Yes, Mansi?"

"Did you tell this lady that you want to buy clothes for me?"

"Yes." he said. "We were talking about it earlier. I think if you have to accompany me to such events, it would be good for you to have some western clothes."

"I am fine with saris." she diffidently said.

"You might be fine with saris. But I am not." he raised his voice a little and she was taken aback.

"Don't I get a say in it?" she asked.

"Tchh, don't create unnecessary drama, Mansi. You saw how those women were dressed. It won't kill you to own a couple of western clothes." he almost scolded.

"Fine." she said, sulking a little. She wasn't too used to arguing with authoritative men.

The saleswoman pulled out the tape and measured Mansi's waist, bust, and hips. She had overheard the entire conversation. She assumed that this young woman was the rich old man's mistress. And he seemed to be calling the shots. So once the measurements were done, she didn't ask the lady as she usually would, but turned to the old man.

"And what dresses would you like ma'am to try, sir?"

Dutt looked around at the clothes. He would have loved nothing more to have Mansi try on something sexy like a tube top or a mini skirt. But he didn't want to push her too much too soon.

"Let's try that pinstripe skirt suit."

"Very good, sir. Please come with me, ma'am."

Mansi walked obediently with the saleswoman who picked up the garments in her size and showed her the trial room. The store's manager, who had a keen eye for customers, recognized a millionaire when he saw one.

"How do you do, sir? Would you like something to drink while you wait? Tea, coffee, cold drink, beer?"

"Beer would be nice." Dutt said. And soon he was holding a big mug of imported German beer.

Dutt sipped the beer and felt like he had waited an eternity for the young housewife to return. After all, she had to take off her sari, petticoat, blouse, and try this unfamiliar clothing on. When she walked out of the trial room uncomfortably, the old man almost felt a twitch in his pants.

It's not like the dress was too revealing or anything. It was a very formal and elegant skirt suit, with the skirt ending slightly below the knees. She was wearing a formal blouse, fully buttoned up, and a jacket. But the fabric hugged Mansi's curves so well, that this was the first time Dutt got a look at how perfectly shaped her body was.

"Gorgeous, isn't it, sir?" the saleswoman asked in her best salesy voice. She was looking forward to a fat commission from this old guy.

"Beautiful!" Dutt agreed.

But Mansi felt very uncomfortable at the way the old man, beer in hand, was staring at her. She was squirming around a little, and said,

"I don't like it much. It seems very..."

"Turn around." Dutt simply said taking a big gulp.

And was delighted when she obeyed. The fabric accentuated her perfectly shaped buttocks even better than he had imagined. They always looked good in a sari, but thinking of them in such well fit contours was delightful.

"Hmm...not bad." Dutt said, doing his best to hide the excitement in his voice. Reena had told him to push Mansi out of her comfort zone. This was perfect.

Mansi was having a bizarre almost out of body experience as she saw herself in a nearby mirror. She could not believe how good she looked. But she also looked like a stranger. It was like watching someone else standing there in that skirt suit, turning around to show a man over twice her age her ass in the tight skirt.

"Should I pack it up, sir?" the saleswoman suggestively asked.

"Not yet. I'd like her to try on a few more colors and patterns."

"This is okay." Mansi tried to protest, but Dutt just waved his hand dismissively.

Why am I unable to say no to what this man is saying, Mansi asked herself in the trial room as she stripped off the pinstripe and tried a beige suit. I could and I should just put my foot down and say, no, I don't want to wear western clothes. He is like an employer, not her master or husband. But despite this mental soliloquy, she changed into the other suit and walked out.

For the next half hour, Dutt chugged beer and Mansi modeled different skirt suits for him. The more clothes she tried, the more comfortable she felt. And the more beer Dutt had, the bolder he felt.

"You don't shave your legs." he noted when she was on the fourth dress. Her perfectly shaped calves looked pretty, but they did have a thin covering of hair, which did not look good with the formal western clothing.

"Why would I?" Mansi asked, a little offended.

"From now on, if you want to wear these clothes, you will need to shave your legs."

Mansi dumbly nodded, and again wondered why she was letting herself be pushed around like this. The saleswoman was noting all this. It was clear to her that the young woman was some kind of a mistress. So when Mansi went to the trial room again, she walked up to Dutt discreetly.

"Excuse me, sir. I was wondering what you think of that dress?" she pointed towards a mannequin.

Dutt saw what she was pointing at. He had noticed it before. It was a tight red mini dress which ended halfway to the knee, was low cut, and had spaghetti straps.

"It might be a little too short for her tastes." he said.

"What about your tastes, sir?" she flirtatiously asked, hoping to maximize her commission.

"I don't think she will even try it on."

"She doesn't have to. I know her size well by now." the girl said. "You can gift it to her as a surprise some other time."

Dutt imagines the curvaceous young housewife in that dress and felt a twitch in his loins. He finished another beer and nodded.

"Alright, we'll get one."

Mansi sat in the car looking out the window, wondering why today had unfolded so differently from previous days. Duttsahab, usually so nice and polite, was ordering her around. It was technically true that she was his employee. And he paid her well. But still, it seemed like he was crossing some lines. What amazed Mansi was that she wasn't able to summon the will to say no to him. It's like he had a hold over her that went just beyond the money.

Next to her in the car was the bag of clothes. It had two formal skirt suits that Dutt had bought for her. The price had been so exorbitant, that she thought it would end up eating into her "salary" for a few more days. Dutt had a different bag by his legs, the one with the mini dress. Mansi hadn't asked what was in it and he hadn't told her.

He had downed a few beers in the store. In the limo, he opened another bottle and was sipping it as the car sped towards Borivali. They had been riding in silence since leaving the store. Suddenly, Mansi felt the bags next to her being moved. And Dutt's leg was touching hers. Before she knew it, the big bulky man's arm was on her shoulder. Again, despite herself, she felt a small thrill run up her body.

"What's wrong, Mansi?" Dutt asked in a slightly slurring voice, his face right next to hers. She could smell the beer on his breath.

"Nothing." she said, squirming a little, hoping that he would take his hand away.

"Are you upset?"

"A little."

"Why?"

"Could you...could you please move a little?" she uncomfortably said.

"Okay."

And he moved literally, just a little. He still had his arm around her.

"Don't you like me, Mansi?" he asked in a slightly sulky voice.

"I think you have had too much to drink." she said, finally raising her hand to move his hand away from her shoulder. He moved it so he wasn't touching her but his arm was still on the backrest behind her.

"I like you, Mansi. I like you a lot." he said.

"I like you too, Duttsahab." she felt compelled to say lest she seem rude and cold. And then added. "But as a friend."

"Yes, we are friends." he gently patted her shoulder and then moved away. "If you like, we could be something more. But only if you like."

"What do you mean by something more?" she nervously asked.

Dutt looked at her petrified face and thought carefully about what to say. He didn't want to proceed too fast and scare her away. At the same time, he did want to keep testing her comfort zone. So he started speaking, picking his words carefully.

"See, Mansi, I think you are a wonderful person. Very talented and smart with a lot of potential. But being born where you were and the life you have, the potential hasn't been tapped fully. But I can help. Haven't you find our time so far interesting and fun?"

He waited earnestly for an answer. Mansi also picked her words carefully.

"Duttsahab, I cannot deny that getting to know you and spend time with you has been a welcome privilege. I respect you a lot. And you have been showing me a world that I did not even know existed. I can never thank you enough for that. And your...gifts have also been very helpful. Thank you so much."

"Don't mention it." he shrugged.

"Maybe I am a little too orthodox and haven't seen as much of the world as you have. So maybe my thinking is very limited and my life experience is limited. In my world, a man your age and a married woman my age who are not related can only have a very...superficial relationship. Like a father figure or a family friend. Maybe employer-employee. Even us being friends is something unusual. So when you say you would like something more...I don't know what you exactly mean."

"Well, what I mean is...companionship...some emotional connection...maybe like a mentor...something beyond just the superficial. Where we both enrich each others lives. I am an old man, near retirement. I don't have too much going on in life. And you have made quite an impression on me. Spending time with you adds joy to my life. I would like to do more of that in a meaningful and mutually beneficial way."

"And would you expect..." Mansi said and paused.

"Would I expect what?"

"You know." she blushed a little.

"If you are thinking what I think you are thinking..." Dutt paused and thought about how honest to be. "Okay, think of it this way. I know that you come from a world where the default setting is monogamy. You are married, you have kids, and that is it. As you can imagine, my world is a bit more...relaxed in such regards. So...would I like to have what you are probably thinking about? Why not. But I wouldn't "expect" it in the sense that it's a must-do or a deal breaker. But if it happened, it would make me happy."

Mansi had to think a little to parse through what he was saying. maybe it was time to be explicit.

"You are saying that...you would like a physical component to our relationship. But if I don't, you will be okay with it?"

"Precisely. And even the physical component, you don't have to think I want something really major. It could be something as simple as holding hands." and he moved his hand and gently grabbed her.

Mansi almost shivered at that touch. Again, her body was sending her messages that her brain and her morality were refusing to entertain. She just stared at his hand covering hers, with its expensive rings and hairy knuckles. She tried to remember what Amar's hands looked like. She could not. Not in detail anyway. Her husband's relationship with her wasn't as passionate as it could be. But still, that did not mean she could...

Slowly she pulled her hand away. Dutt withdrew his hand but noted that she had let it be like that for almost a full minute while she was lost in thoughts.

"Anyway, just think about." he said, smiling. "Like I said, it's all up to you."

Mansi nodded and stared out of the window, weighing her options. Dutt wondered if he had gone too far. But when the car dropped her off, she took the bag of clothes. He took that as a good sign. The bait had been cast. Now it was just about being careful and patient, like a skilled fisherman.

Later that evening, Mansi and Amar were sitting in the living room watching TV and having chai. Pinky was in the bedroom doing homework.

"So how is the job going?" Amar asked.

"It's not bad." Mansi said.

"What have you been doing there?"

Mansi had to think a little to remember the exact lie she had told him. She then did her best to remember what she had seen the help staff do at the corporate luncheon and pass it off as her own work.

"It was a corporate lunch. Lots of big shots. It was on the outdoor patio. I was at the welcome desk, collecting people's jackets. And also helping with the guest lists. Handing out name tags. And then I coordinated the food."

"You cooked?"

"No, I didn't cook. Just making sure there were enough plates, etc." she remembered a catering lady doing just that.

"Did you have a good time?"

"It was okay."

That's when Pinky suddenly came running out of the bedroom.

"MAMMA! MAMMA! I love you!! You got me more dresses?"

Mansi was aghast to see that the little girl was carrying the shopping bag from earlier in the day. She had hidden it under the bed. How did the little girl find it? Amar was looking at his daughter surprised.

"No, Pinky." she firmly said taking the bag from her hand. "Those are Mamma's clothes."

"Show me! Show me!" she jumped up and down.

With Amar staring intently, she took one of the skirt suits out. The pin stripe one. Pinky picked up the skirt and held it up.

"It is so pretty, mamma."

Amar was still staring, so Mansi felt the need to give him an explanation.

"I got these from Reena aunty." she said, spinning more lies. "Sometimes the events have a western dress code. So she thought it would be good to have these. They were in the hotel clothing stock. They are just like the skirt suits businesswomen wear. Nothing much."

"I see." Amar said. "Try it on."

"Yay!! Mamma, fashion show! Fashion show!"

"What's there to try on? I already tried them on earlier." Mansi squirmed. "Besides, I have to start dinner."

She got up, but Amar grabbed her hand. Instinctively she looked at it. And found herself comparing it to Dutt's hand. Amar's fingers were thinner and shorter. His skin was a little fairer. And he didn't have much hair on his knuckles.

"Just try it on." Amar smiled. "I'd like to see how you look."

"Fine."

Mansi was sick of changing in and out of clothes after that prolonged trial experience at the store. But she didn't have a choice. She went to the bedroom, took off her sari, blouse, petticoat, and wore the top, skirt, and jacket. And then feeling very conscious, she walked out to the living room.

"Wow, mamma! You look so pretty! Like Priyanka Chopra!" Pinky happily shouted.

"It looks good." Amar smiled and nodded.

Mansi just stood there for a few seconds.

"Do a catwalk, mamma, catwalk!"

"Shush! Don't be silly." she scolded her daughter. "Go do your homework."

"But mamma...just one catwalk no please!!" she whined.

"Go do your homework!" Mansi raised her voice.

Amar had been staring at his wife like he was seeing a completely new woman. He looked at her perfectly shaped calves and saw how well the skirt hugged her curves. She did look like some kind of a high class model or actress.

"You can do homework later." Amar suddenly spoke up. "Right now, go down and play with your friends."

Mansi was surprised. One of the strict rules in the house was that Pinky should not go play before finishing her homework. No exceptions. Even the usually lax Amar didn't budge on it. And here he was giving her a free pass.

"Really?" Pinky asked wide-eyed. This never happened.

"Really. Go."

"Love you papa!!" Pinky said and ran out of their apartment.

"Why did you do that?" Mansi asked.

Amar just got up and bolted the front door. Then he walked over to Mansi. With his hands, he undid the bun her hair was tied up in. The long thick tresses flowed around her shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Mansi whispered. "I have to start dinner."

"Shhhh!" he put a finger on her lips.

Mansi was amazed as his fingers started unbuttoning her blouse. That's when she noticed that her husband's pyjama was tenting with an erection. In the middle of the evening! His hands slipped inside her top and played with her breasts over the bra. Amar had never been this spontaneous after their honeymoon. Sex was always had at night, in the bedroom. And here he had sent their daughter out to play so they could have sex? Mansi felt thrilled at the gesture. She started putting her arms around his neck.

But he held her arms and pulled her towards the couch. She got on the couch with her knees. He turned her around so she was facing the wall. She put her elbows on the backrest of the couch.

"You look gorgeous!" Amar groaned.

And then she felt his hand slowly rolling the tight skirt up. She reached for the zip to take it off but Amar said,

"No, keep it on."

Soon he had rolled the skirt all the way up around her waist. And he looked at the round curvy buttocks of his wife. And again, felt like he was seeing a new woman. They always had sex in the dark so he had almost forgotten what his wife's ass looked in bright light. Here she was, dressed in fancy western clothes. Her top open, her skirt rolled up. He slid her panties down to her knees. And opened the knot of his pyjama.

"Hehe, what's the matter with you tod...AAAAAHHHH!!"

Mansi cried out partly in pleasure and partly in pain as her husband shoved his dick inside her in one swift motion. She wasn't completely wet yet and it hurt a little. And maybe it was her imagination, but she felt Amar today was more rock hard than ever.

"Slowly..." she whispered.

But Amar didn't even hear it. He was too lost in the fog of passion and was pounding his wife's cunt hard. He reached around and grabbed her boobs over her bra. Then leaning forward, he bucked her even faster.

"Amar...go slow..." Mansi said, feeling a little annoyed. What had gotten into him?

"Hmmm." he said and slowed down, but only a little.

The pace of the fucking was making Mansi's forehead bump against the wall. The living room was filled with the sound of their thighs slapping against one another. This continued for another minute. Mansi's vagina was now more lubricated, so the discomfort started going away. That's when.

"Ungggg!!" Amar grunted, and she felt his semen shoot inside her. He did not ask her this time if she was still on the pill, although she was. He was too horny and caught up in this new experience to think or care.

Amar stayed hunched over his wife's body for a few seconds after his dick slipped out. The cum was running down her thighs. He stepped off the couch and went to the bathroom. After a few moments, Mansi got off the couch and carefully unzipped the skirt and took it off, making sure it didn't get any cum stains on it. It was a little wrinkled because of how it had been hurriedly rolled up.

She pulled up her panties and saw a spot of cum on the couch. It made her smile. They had never ever done it in the living room. The spontaneous sex had been enjoyable, although she wished it had lasted longer.

"Clean up and change." Amar said with a smile. Then sat in front of the TV and resumed watching it. He gently patted his wife's semi-naked ass in appreciation as she walked to the bathroom.​