My Sexcapedes With Landlord’s Wife
horny, hot, indian

Hello everyone. This story is based on an incident that happened in my life a few years back. And had a profound effect on me. Names and places have been changed but the events are true and described as happened. I hope you enjoy it. I certaintly did. This was when I used to live in nagpur. I was preparing for my engg. And had rented a room close to my institute. It was a neighbourhood with big posh houses and sterling hotels and restaurants. One in which I lived though, resembled more to a haunted villa. It was crumbling and in terrible need of repairs our landlord mr sharma (name changed) used to live downstairs with his wife, their kid, and his mother. He was the most useless piece of shit I ever saw. He was unemployed and fooled around every day. His wife was a lawyer working under some senior high court lawyer. She was in her early 30’s. And in great shape. Her slender curves appeared distinctly below the tight salwar she used to wear on most days. Her boobs were lush, not too big but hugged perfectly to her salwar. I often got a hard on staring at her through my balcony when she’d sit in their front yard on that swaying chair. I wanted to fuck her. Tear that salwar off her lustful body, feel her beneath me, her rhythmic breaths and moans on my ears. Of course it was all a fantasy and I never expected anything of this sort to happen. It was obvious that they were in a failing marriage. They didn’t fight but mrs sharma always looked sad and hopeless like she’d given up and accepted that this was her life. Anyway I guess mrs sharma noticed all the long staring looks I gave her. I tried to hide it of course, be subtle about it, but I wasn’t doing a great job apparently. One day I went downstairs to give my rent. Front door was open. I called out to mr sharma but no answer. I called again a couple of times but it seemed like nobody was home. I stepped inside a bit to see if anyone was there. Just then mrs sharma emerged from the kitchen. Her eyes were red and her face a little wet. She had been crying. “hello mrs sharma, I brought this month’s rent” I said “uh okay”. She was still a little overwhelmed and was trying desperately to hide it. She took the money from me and as she did our hands touched. I felt her trembling hand as she withdrew. A lock of her hair had slipped down her head to the corner of her eye, along her tear stained cheeks. Damn she looked beautiful. I just kept looking at her shamelessly and unaware that she was probably embarrassed. “Mrs Sharma, are you okay?” I asked. She was silent. Then said “yes”. Then she was silent again. Just standing there and avoiding looking at me. “I’m sorry. I should go” I said. It wasn’t any of my business anyway and she was clearly uncomfortable with me around gawking at her. I went back upstairs, lay on my bed and kept thinking of her. Her face I saw a little while ago. Her soft, almost a whisper of a voice with which she spoke to me. It turned me on faster than watching porn. I fapped to her just as I had done often. It was night when I woke up. I usually stayed up late at night studying. It was a more peaceful time with no hustle-bustle of the day. My neighbours, the other tenants would sleep early. It was quarter past eleven. I went up to the terrace to smoke. I lit the cigarette and took a long drag. The air was cool, almost chilly. It was dark. Only light was the glowing tip of the cigarette. “sarthak? Is that you?” a voice came from the back I froze. I knew who it was. I turned back. My landlady, mrs sharma was standing in front of me and although it was dark and I couldn’t see her face from the distance there was no mistaking that beautiful voice. For a moment I forgot that I was holding a cigarette in my hand. She came close. “sarthak. It is you. What are you doing here? And are you smoking?” Now I got scared. Nobody ever came up to the terrace. And it was pretty late in the night. Fuck! I didn’t want to get kicked out of here. As my mind was racing I still couldn’t shake out the thought that pragati and I were all alone on that roof. (I’d refer to mrs sharma as pragati from now on.) “I’m sorry mrs sharma. I thought you guys were asleep. I’m sorry if I disturbed you. I won’t smoke here again”. I was terrified but tried my best to not show it in front of her. She looked at me. She didn’t seem so embarrassed now. In fact she looked right into my eyes and smiled. “it’s fine. Don’t worry about it too much”. She said. “just don’t let anyone else catch you.” “oh okay” I said. I felt a little relieved but the sexual tension was still there. I could feel it. I knew she did too. The way she smiled wasn’t the usual curtsy way a landlady would. Was she flirting? Was it a cue? I knew I hadn’t the guts to act on it. I was not very good at talking to women. And I’m still not. Especially one as feisty as pragati. She made me nervous. One moment she would act all timid and shy and in another she was all smiling and confident. “so do you stay up this late everyday Mrs Sharma”? I asked. “no. Not usually this late. Arpit (her husband) has gone to Hyderabad for some business. And I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d get some fresh air and get some work done.” “you always seem to be working so hard”. I said. “yeah, I am a workaholic”. She said. She sounded sincere but her expression was of slight hesitation. As if she wanted to say more, but couldn’t. “you are amazing, “I said. And also very beautiful. I just don’t get why you”…. I trailed off. Annoyed. I wanted to ask why she was with him. They certainly didn’t seem to be in love. “what”? She said “don’t you get bored, doing it every day? It’s very monotonous. You should try different things” I said looking at her intently. “yeah? Like what?” she said smiling. “I put out the cigarette, grabbed her hand and pulled her towards me. I kissed her. Fiercely. She didn’t see it coming and was shocked. Her eyes wide open. She tried to wriggle free. But I had held her tight against my chest. I invaded her mouth. My one hand on her waist and another one on the back of her neck pulling her mouth towards mine. She finally pushed me back with all her might. I let her go. “what are you doing”? She said angrily. Then slapped me across the face. Her eyes were blazing red. So were her cheeks. I stared at her shamelessly, my face hard as a stone. I was scared shitless, but I didn’t want to apologize. “I want to fuck you,” I said. She slapped me again. Harder this time. Okay, I might have been wrong about she giving me cues and flirting with me, I thought. But then again what the fuck do I know about women. I was angry. And at the same time, I wanted to fuck her. But she was mad as hell too. She stormed out without saying a word. When my anger cooled off, I realized I was very well fucked. I prayed to god that she didn’t tell it to her husband. I avoided any contact with her now. Didn’t try to take any sneak peeks. I even stayed at my friend’s place for a couple of days. A week passed. By now I was optimistic she didn’t tell anyone about our little encounter on the terrace. But I still didn’t dare talk to her. Then one day, around 11:30 pm, someone knocked on my door. I opened it, expecting a friend, but there she was standing in front of me, looking at me with those big brown eyes. There were mixed feelings. Of anger, of fear and of lust. To be continued…….. Hello, fellow readers, I hope you liked it. I know it was a bit long. But if you enjoyed it, I promise what’s coming next won’t disappoint you. Please share your feelings. I would love to hear them. My email id [email protected]