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Home Stories Submit Login Search. Welcome to Read Indian Sex Stories - here you will find some of the best Indian sex stories and the hottest sex fantasies that will make you cum.

Our readers regularly share their most erotic experiences with us and you can too by submitting yours. We hope you enjoy your visit and can keep satisfying you with the best sex stories. Wife Fucked By a Friend As the monsoons arrive, I am reminded of another day a couple Wife fuck with friend years back, when the heavens opened up in a sudden downpour, and took us by surprise in the first rains of the season.

It was evening, and I was sitting with my friend Nikhil, having coffee at home. My wife Rashmi, who is an Air Hostess, had yet to return from work, when the downpour started.

I got worried, as Rashmi had not taken any rainwear to the airport. I called her up on the mobile, and she said she would manage her way back. So here we were, waiting. Nikhil is a close family friend. Though himself a bachelor, he visited us often. I dare say we too liked Nikhil, and I Wife fuck with friend often seen Rashmi making extra efforts to make our outings memorable.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Rashmi stood at the doorway, completely drenched. From where she stood, she could see me, but Nikhil was hidden by a partition in the living room. She was wearing her work clothes- a blue skirt, ankle length, and a white top. But she may as well have been standing there naked. The shirt clung to her breasts, and one could see the outlines of her bra.

She must have run to get out of the rain on her way home, and so was panting. Her breasts were heaving as a result, and the rushing adrenalin had caused her nipples to stand out erect. At 5 feet 6with a body ofshe stood there like a goddess.

And before I could say anything, she took her shirt over her head to take it off.

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Her flat stomach came tantalizingly into view, and her belly button glistened with rain drops that had found a way through her shirt. Soon, her bra came into view.

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And then the shirt was off. All this happened in a split second.

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It was only when she had taken off her shirt that we heard a sharp intake of breath, and she became aware of Nikhil. We all looked at each other in the embarrassing moment that followed.

There was Rashmi, dripping like a fresh mermaid in the center of the room, with her husband and another man looking at her. Nikhil recovered first, and attempted to break the awkward silence. She smiled tentatively, and rushed out to the bedroom. Nikhil kept his gaze at her bare back, at her swinging hips. I knew what he was going through, the poor sod.

We had dinner together. The two had certainly ignited Wife fuck with friend odd pagan interest in each other, I could see that. Now I love Rashmi very Wife fuck with friend, and we have a very fulfilling sexual relationship. However, at times, I have always thought I would love to see her fucked by another man.

At that time, seeing what was happening, an idea came into my mind, and I set about my plan. I was confident it would work.

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I also felt safe with the idea, as I knew Nikhil, and knew he would no do anything that might hurt my wife. I got my mobile to ring a test call. I picked it up, and appeared disconcerted. Dropping the phone, I said there was an emergency, and my boss had summoned me to the office. Before they could protest too Wife fuck with friend, I told them to go ahead with their dinner, and slipped out of the house. I started my car, took it out of the driveway, and parked it around a bend.

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Then I ran back to the house, and peered inside at the dining room from an open window. They were at the table, but Nikhil was not eating much. In fact, he still had that trance look on his face. I could make out the words from my hiding place.

She asked him why he was not eating. This was a totally different Nikhil I was seeing, with his direct Wife fuck with friend. That was the end of my plans, and maybe a friendship, I thought ruefully.

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Nikhil got up from the table. Rashmi glared at him, and then relented.

They carried the dishes into the kitchen, also visible form where I was. As Rashmi bent on the kitchen sink to keep the dishes, Nikhil grabbed her from behind.

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By now, Nikhil had gone beyond reason. Things were turning serious now. From my hiding place, I wondered what to do. I had half a mind to shout, and call it off. But something held me back. I quickly ran around the house, and let myself in silently with my key.

He managed to hold both her hands with one hand, and with his other, he pulled her hair and got her face close to his. She screamed in pain. Oblivious, he planted kisses on her luscious lips, her neck. Saying that, he yanked at her shirt. A couple of buttons broke loose, before the shirt came away in his strong hands. Rashmi was wearing my favorite lace bra, and the sight of that can turn on a statue. I could see the effect it had on Nikhil. Wife fuck with friend only gurgled, and yanked at the bra, which came off in one go.

There was Rashmi, still fighting to break free, her torso exposed.

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Nikhil still held her hands, and took her body in. With one hand, he unbuckled his belt, and got out of his trousers. I gasped when I saw his tool.

It was at least 8. Without warning, Nikhil slapped her hard. Red marks were left on her cheek, and a faint dribble of appeared at the corner of her mouth.

I was about to come out of my hiding place, when he sat down on the sofa, and dragged her to a kneeling position in front of him. Holding her hair, he brought her face close to his cock, and brushed her lips with his crown. She still struggled, But Nikhil was firm. He started kneading her nipples with his hand.

Slowly, I could see her resistance wane, and I relaxed. She nearly gorged, but then opened her mouth wide to accommodate him. His thick cock went repeatedly in and out Wife fuck with friend her face, like a Wife fuck with friend.


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