Good Wife

Good Wife

Part 1: The Las Vegas Lesson

My name is Kavita, and I am a young Asian Indian housewife living in California. People say I have a very sexy body. My husband, Sanjay, loves to show off my legs and shapely breasts to his friends and in public. I am deeply in love with my husband. Being a good Indian wife, I rarely dare to go against him. Sanjay knows my weakness for flattery and praise, and how much I yearn to please him, and sometimes uses it to his advantage.

We have only been married for a couple of years, and I have always been a devoted wife. Sanjay is a good husband, a good provider, and very generous with gifts, letting me buy the clothes and jewelry I want. In return, I sometimes indulge him by doing things that turn him on. When we aren’t around conservative friends, he’d encourage me to wear revealing clothes that showed off my young, petite body as much as possible, sometimes even pushing things a bit too far.

Sanjay told me to buy short skirts, see-through blouses, push-up bras, skimpy panties, and other sexy lingerie. When I wore skirts and dresses, he would suggest I wear a tiny string bikini or thong panties. That way, if anyone peeked under my skirt, they’d get an eyeful. He also wanted me to keep my pussy shaved at all times. I know this sounds strict, but I loved him, and as his wife, I trusted his judgment in what I wore and how I behaved in public.

On our last vacation, we visited Las Vegas and stayed in a fancy hotel/casino on the Strip. Sanjay’s colleague from work, Nick, was also in Las Vegas at the time. They planned the vacation together so they could gamble at the casinos. Sanjay and Nick work at the same company and often hang out together, playing golf and going out for drinks after work. Nick was staying in the same hotel and on the same floor as us.

Nick is a white guy originally from New York; he is about ten years older than Sanjay. Nick often visited our house, but I didn’t like him much because he always seemed very cocky and full of himself. He’d often give me lecherous looks. Whenever he came to our house, he’d always hug me longer than necessary and boldly move his hands way down my back, like he was trying to grab my butt. He also swore a lot and used really crude language. I think he is a bad influence on Sanjay.

Sanjay seemed to think Nick was a great guy, however. Many times when Nick had dinner with us, Sanjay encouraged me to wear an Indian blouse-saree set because Nick said he liked to see me in a saree. I usually wore a thin, tight Indian blouse that made the curves of my breasts clearly visible. All my blouses were cut low in the back and front, so my back was bare and my deep cleavage showed in front.

Sanjay liked me to wear my saree low, resting below my slender waist and navel. Also, I usually wear a push-up bra to enhance my cleavage, making it more noticeable. When serving drinks to Nick, I often had to lean forward, causing my saree to slip off my shoulder, revealing a clear view of my cleavage.

I complained to Sanjay and told him about the looks he gave me when I wore sexy clothes in front of Nick, but he never listened. He always replied that I should just take it as a compliment and be grateful.

He’d say, “Nick’s just being friendly, Kavita. You’re overreacting. Anyway, what’s the harm if he enjoys looking at your hot, sexy body?” I’m a sucker for flattery, so I usually got excited hearing this from my husband, so I never seriously objected to Nick’s lusting for my body. Also, I have to admit that Nick was kind of good-looking, tall with a good athletic build, so it was sort of flattering to know that he liked my looks. Despite my reservations, a strange, undeniable curiosity stirred within me when he was around.

Anyway, here we were in Vegas, and Sanjay called Nick and told him to meet us at the Blackjack tables after dinner. Sanjay told me to wear a saree because he wanted me to stand out in the casino crowd. So I wore a vibrant green saree with a matching sleeveless blouse. The blouse was so deeply cut and tight that my prominent breasts thrust out, my cleavage enhanced by the push-up bra I had on. I carefully covered it with my saree, but I was acutely aware of the tiny hooks on the front of the blouse straining against the thin fabric.

I knew Sanjay liked me to tie my saree super low so that most of my midriff would be bare. He also told me to wear my 4-inch black stiletto heels. They weren’t very comfortable, but he said they made my ample, curvy bottom wiggle in a sexy way when I walked. It was a very warm day, so I didn’t wear any stockings, but just wore a pair of thong panties. I knew Nick would have fun looking me over, but heck, I was with my husband, so I didn’t care. I knew Sanjay got a kick out of seeing me dressed like this.

Nick came down at the same time as we did, and just like I thought, his blue eyes bulged when he saw my outfit. Lots of other guys at the casino were also giving me looks, but I did not care. Sanjay bought me a margarita, and he and Nick started playing. I was watching the game and sipping the drink. I have to admit that I had a weakness for margaritas; I couldn’t say no to them. Sanjay knew this, but he kept buying me more.

By 10 o’clock that night, I had finished my third margarita and was feeling very drunk. Also, all those margaritas were making me want to pee. I tried to go to the restroom, but when I tried to get up, I realized I was far too drunk to walk straight, especially with my heels on. I waited a bit longer until I couldn’t bear it anymore.

Finally, when Sanjay came over to talk to me, I whispered in his ear, “Honey, I need to pee.”

“Then go,” Sanjay said.

I said, “I’m too drunk, please take me to the restroom.” Sanjay was enjoying the game, so he got a little irritated. In my drunken state, I heard Sanjay say in a rather loud voice, “Kavita, I can’t leave now, I’m in the middle of a game here.”

Nick asked Sanjay, “What’s the matter, Sanjay?”

Sanjay said loudly, “She needs to pee, but I can’t leave the game now.” I felt so embarrassed that Nick and others at the table knew about my full bladder.

Nick said, “No problem. I can take her, if you’re okay with that?”

Sanjay said, “Of course, but she’s too drunk. I don’t think she can go to the ladies’ room by herself.”

Nick said, “No problem, she can use my room.”

Sanjay said, “Okay, just take care of her while I finish the game.”

The next thing I remember, Nick grabbed my arm and lifted me from my seat. As soon as I stood up, I realized I couldn’t walk straight and felt I might fall unless I held on to something. I must have grabbed Nick’s arm. I thought I saw a big smile on Nick’s face. As I told you, I didn’t like this guy much, but here I was, helpless. So I grabbed his arm and shoulder tightly to avoid falling. Nick’s arm circled my small waist, drawing my petite body flush against his much taller frame. For safety, I had to cling to him. I was a good Indian wife, and I would never cheat on my husband, so I was careful to avoid too much body contact.

As he guided me to the elevator, I distinctly remember his hand grabbing my butt. At the time, I didn’t see any harm in that. After all, the guy left his game for me, so I thought he deserved to have some fun. I remember Nick pressing the elevator button and then having to wait several minutes for the elevator. While we waited, I tried to take off my heels, but Nick firmly told me to keep them on. I think he was enjoying my discomfort. I had a feeling that until I went back to my husband, I’d be at his mercy. And I was correct. He was making me suffer longer on purpose.

I think I was having trouble just standing straight. The next thing I remember, I had my head buried in Nick’s chest and my eyes were closed. He hugged and held me tight, with every inch of my body touching his. He was massaging my back and occasionally my butt. My bladder was getting fuller, and I started to worry about peeing before we got to Nick’s room. I wrapped my hands around his waist for support, and my full breasts were pressed up against him. I could even feel his cock pressing hard against my stomach, above the folds of my saree.

I was very much in a drunken haze, so I’m not sure when the elevator door opened, because my head was buried in his chest. I can’t tell you if anyone saw us in that state or if anyone came out of the elevator, but I remember that we were alone in the elevator as the doors were closing.

As I was getting into the elevator, I tripped on my saree and almost fell, but Nick grabbed me roughly by my hands and pulled me back up. In my drunken state, my saree’s folds were coming undone, and I couldn’t put them back on. As soon as the elevator doors closed, Nick made me stand by the side of the elevator so his hands were free. Then he pulled on my saree and started taking it off.

I was shocked, and I could hear myself softly mumble, “Nick, please don’t do this. Nick, why are you doing this? Nick, please, someone will come, I’m so ashamed.”

Nick said firmly, “Kavita, stop fussing. Off it comes. You need to pee, don’t you? I don’t want you ruining your nice saree.”

I had no resistance left. I begged him, “Nick, can you do it in your room? Please, I’m feeling shy. Don’t take my saree off here. Someone might come.”

Nick ignored my pleas. “Oh! Come on, Kavita, it’s late. No one’s going to come, trust me.” He raised both my hands above my head and pinned them firmly with one hand. With his other hand, he took off my saree completely until it was just a pile of cloth at my feet. Now, I was standing in the elevator in my thin blouse and matching green petticoat, which is the underskirt worn under the saree. He looked me up and down and grinned while still holding up my hands.

I was so ashamed to have this rotten guy take advantage of me, but there was nothing I could do. After all, he was my husband’s friend. Then he pulled on the thread holding my petticoat. Pretty soon, my petticoat was also on the floor, leaving me with just my thong panties. My panties were so tiny they must have left almost nothing to his imagination. I knew he was savoring the sight of my naked Indian body, my pubic mound clearly visible, and reveling in his power over me.

To my horror, the elevator door then opened, and two men got in. I think I shrieked. That just made things worse. I flung my nearly nude body at Nick, clung to him, and buried my face in his chest, asking him to please cover me so I wouldn’t have to face them. He did so gladly, his hands now on my mostly naked butt. The men were a couple of guys from the hotel security staff, and they asked Nick if everything was okay. Nick smoothly told them, “Everything’s fine, she just had a bit too much to drink and wet herself.” It was a lie, and I felt so embarrassed and exposed, with Nick’s hands still possessively on my bare brown bottom.

The guys must have assumed I was Nick’s girlfriend. One of them then asked me, “Ma’am, are you alright?” To add to my embarrassment, Nick made me turn around to face the guys and tell them I was okay. They seemed very amused by my situation. I promptly turned back and again buried my face in Nick’s chest. I was sure the men were staring at my bare buttocks, but Nick did nothing to cover me up. It felt like he was thrilled about showing off his Indian girlfriend to the other white men.

I hated having to stay pressed against Nick for the next few floors, while he was fondling my buttocks and showing me off. I could still feel his cock on my stomach, and it seemed to be getting bigger. All three men in the elevators were smiling and exchanging glances. I was feeling so humiliated that I decided to close my eyes, which relaxed me. I said to myself, “This is a bad dream; these men would disappear. If I don’t see them, they don’t see me.” Yet, the feeling of his hard cock pressing against my belly, combined with the multiple male gazes, created a strange, forbidden tension in me that made my loins tingle.

Finally, our floor came, and Nick escorted me out of the elevator, virtually lifting me because I was clinging to him so closely. We were in the hallway with rooms on both sides. The hall was empty, and nobody was in sight. Nick left me standing against the wall and then took his time folding my saree and petticoat neatly. It seemed to take forever, and I was so worried that some other hotel guests would see me in this state.

After he was done, he grabbed my arm and started to remove my tiny, sleeveless blouse. Faithful wife that I was, I protested, “Nick, please don’t do this.” He just ignored me, undoing all the hooks on my blouse, and then taking off my blouse completely. The thin fabric peeled away, revealing the full, round curves of my breasts enhanced by my black push-up bra. I gasped at the sudden exposure, and my nipples, already hard from a mixture of shame and excitement, strained against the lace.

He folded my blouse and kept it with my saree. I didn’t have pantyhose or stockings, and I felt so naked wearing just my lacy black bra, matching thong panties, and stiletto heels.

He then made me walk slowly past several rooms. I could hear people talking inside the rooms, and I was so afraid somebody would come out and see me.

We finally reached Nick’s room. Nick took his time opening the door. Finally, I was inside the room. In my drunken condition, I tried to console myself, “Okay, that’s it, he can’t do much now. He’s had his fun.” I rushed toward his bathroom because I wanted to pee so badly.

Nick stopped me, his grin widening. “Not so fast, Kavita,” he said in a low voice, his eyes gleaming with a wicked pleasure. “You’ve been holding that in for a while, haven’t you? You can wait a little longer. How many margaritas did you have anyway?”

I begged, “Nick, please, I have to pee so badly, can I go to the bathroom?” Nick grinned wickedly, “Yes, Kavita, you can. But first, take off your p