A Desi Wife on a Train
My name is Yuvika Sachdeva. I’m 29 years old. Married for a year and half and at present working for a production company in Mumbai, India. I sent this real account of mine to Vaishali_K on Literotica because of two reasons: I am a Literotica fan and of late I have loved all of Vaishali_K’s stories. I’m thankful to her for accepting this story of mine and suggesting valuable changes to make the real encounter all the more interesting.
Before I start narrating what happened with me I should give you a picture of how I look. I stand at 5 feet 2 inches, wheatish complexion, vitals are 34-28-36 with soft love handles around my lower abdomen along with dense semi curly hair which go till half my back. I love to wear both western and Indian attire depending on my mood and occasion. The night when my story happened, I was wearing a tight black leggings and a long and loose round neck half sleeves top going down till my upper thighs.
On 3rd April, last year, I had to join my husband in New Delhi because of some family emergency. He had gone there a week ago. I couldn’t go with him since I had major work to finish in Mumbai. In the end I got two days off and got my train ticket in Tatkaal because the price of the flight was way too high and since it was an overnight ride of 17 hours approx neither me nor my husband had an issue.
I boarded the train early in the evening. By 7 pm I was already on my side upper berth lying down with a blanket covering most of me and holding a novel in my hand which I wanted to read from a long time but didn’t quite get the time. It was around this time I noticed him. I am yet to his name. He should have been around forty-forty five years of age, crew-cut hair which made me guess he could very well be in the army, strong looking features and was wearing a round neck t-shirt and a knicker. He was in the upper most berth, which was diagonal to me, lying down with his mobile phone’s ear piece plugged in his ears.
At first I only happened to glance at him, our eyes met and I was instantly back to reading my novel. A minute later when I turned sideways continuing to read our eyes met again but this time for a little longer. May be few seconds. I immediately knew I shouldn’t have done that. He now was staring at me. I felt uncomfortable. I quickly drew the curtain. But somehow his eyes remained with me. I found it difficult to focus on the novel. There was this constant urge to look at him to see if he was looking at me. He wasn’t handsome in the traditional sense of the word but there was something raw in the manner he was eyeing me. I can’t explain it. It wasn’t a vulgar stare but something in it was trying to tame me. Or was it just my mind playing games with me? I don’t know. Though it wasn’t the first time I had seen a male staring at me but it certainly was one of those very rare occasions when I was giving attention to the stare.
Averting my eyes I recollected that the last time I was intimate with my husband was three months back after which he went abroad for work. When he came back the family emergency had happened. Perhaps it wasn’t me but my carnal urges which were craving for some attention. And in that man those carnal urges got a face. Eventually the restlessness in me got the better of me and from the corner of the curtain I ended up looking at him. I only wanted to see if he was still looking. He was! The stare was so piercing that I wondered if at all he had looked anywhere else since I drew the curtain. What was he thinking? I felt so desperate to know his mind even though he was a mere stranger. But staring back at him would have only encouraged him. Moreover I was alone in the train. I only hoped he didn’t know that though it was easy to find out. Or may be he already knew by then.
Soon our dinner arrived. I had to go to the loo to freshen up a bit. While I climbed down from my berth I had to make a choice of either climbing down facing the man or showing my back to him. I chose to climb down facing him. From the corner of my eyes I knew he was still looking at me. Now he was sitting up stretching his legs onto the opposite upper berth which was vacant. I climbed down quietly and moved out.
When I came back from the loo, I found him standing by the door to the compartment. He opened the door for me. I intentionally didn’t look at him. But the way he stood opening the door, there was little space for me to pass. I wanted to tell him to make space but I thought may be it was intentional on his part in order to initiate a talk. My fear told me not to talk to the man. I took a deep breath and simply passed by whatever space was available. In the process I felt his warm breath on my forehead and my breasts rubbed slightly with his chest. I was sure he felt my breasts since I did feel his taut chest.
Being married I was a bit ashamed as well as angry. Ashamed because I didn’t know I could allow a sensation of pleasure invade me from another man who wasn’t my husband and angry because I was enjoying that forbidden pleasure. I think I should tell you here that I was a virgin at the time of my marriage. However I never could summon the courage to tell my husband I did make out a couple of times with my boy friends in college which didn’t involve any penetration. I don’t know how he would have reacted since pre-marital sex is always an issue in India especially if one has had an arranged marriage like me.
I found my food plate on my berth. The train catering staff must have kept it there. This time I climbed my berth with my back towards other passengers and when I was comfortable on my berth I realized the man was there near my berth now. I was sure he must have stared at my ass even though my top was veiling it good.
Just as I started to eat, I got a call from my husband. As I talked, I ate and as I ate I was constantly throwing furtive glances at the man every now and then just to see if he was doing the same. He wasn’t. I suddenly felt let down. It was ridiculous. “What happened dear, you sound down?” I heard my husband ask. Did I sound upset? Gosh, what was I doing? “Nothing.” I told my husband over the phone.
All this while when the man was literally gaping at me I was getting scared as well as furious at his audacity to do so and now the same me was feeling low because he wasn’t looking at me. Not even a glance! Was it some kind of reverse psychology he was indulging in? Whatever it was, it was working. Now I was looking at him more than he was looking at me. Normally am not an attention seeker but I don’t know what happened to me that night in the train while having dinner. I intentionally dropped my juice can down. It made some noise. For a moment every one looked at me. So did he.
I bend down but it was not possible for me to pick it up without getting down. The man who was now sitting on the lower berth and having his dinner picked it up and handed it over to me. While he did so we both had our eyes locked. I desperately wanted him to look elsewhere first. He didn’t. Nor did I. “Thank you.” I blurted out softly. He didn’t react at all. But my husband did. “Why thank you?” “Not to you. I dropped something. Someone picked it up for me.”
I kept talking to my husband over phone as I had my dinner. And all the while (beat this!) the man and I had our eyes connected. I don’t know if anybody around noticed it or not but there was something innately sexual about our eyes duel. The fact that I was talking to my husband while the eyes duel with the stranger was on made the vibes between us hotter.
Even when my dinner was over our eyes wasn’t done with the duel. We were given ice creams. I took it, kept it aside and climbed down still looking at the man. It was then I saw him smirk at me. May be a faint smile appeared on my face too. When I think back I wasn’t much conscious of my thoughts or actions at that point of time except that I could hear my heart beats all the while. Finally when I turned and opened the AC compartment door, (our compartment was right by the door) to move out that the intense eye duel ended.
In the loo I kept staring at my reflection on the mirror for sometime. What did you just do? The reflection asked me. I was quiet. Did you just flirt with him in a quiet manner? Damn! I wasn’t exactly crossed with myself but definitely was a bit surprised. I didn’t know I could flirt like this with a stranger.
Not anymore! Enough for one night definitely. Enough for the journey anyway. I would go back to my berth, draw the curtain and sleep off the night. Feeling reassured with the decision I quickly washed my face, rubbed it with my hand-towel and turned to unlock the door.
I was about to come out of the loo when I saw the man guarding the door from outside. In a flash he pushed me in and we both were inside the loo. He turned and locked it immediately. My heartbeats went crazy beating faster and harder at the same time. Initially I was too taken aback to register his action, then I was like how dare he pushed me like that and then I understood we both were now locked inside the loo. The loo was a tiny one but with two adults in it, it now seemed even tinier. There was hardly any space to move about unless the other person adjusted.
I found myself gaping at the man simply for his audacity. It was a turn on. His eyes told me he had already stripped me. And all I wanted to know if he liked what he was imagining. What contradiction! The thought made me feel naked from within even though I was dressed at that time. I should have shouted, alerted people and made an attempt to get out of that dingy loo which was stinking slightly of urine. But I didn’t. The reason was simple. I agree or not I was attracted to this man or may be I liked the way he made me feel with his stares in the last few hours. As if I was a showpiece. To this day I don’t exactly know was it him or was it the fact I was in a situation which had the potential to take me to a forbidden road that my within probably desired at that moment in time kept me mum. I was sure he must have interpreted my silence to his advantage.
The man, maintaining his usual silence, doffed his t-shirt. Though he was with me in the AC compartment but still he was sweating. His sparsely hairy chest was glistening with sweat. He had a thick neck which gave way to broad shoulder. It was hot waters for me now. Flirting was still okay. I already had come to terms with it but now I had to take a decision which may weigh on me later. Yes or no. Now or never. Obviously we were not going to just talk in the locked loo where we both were standing facing each other. Nor would we be continuing our intense eye duel.
I swallowed few lumps as time kept ticking. More the time ticked, more the man, perhaps, believed I was encouraging him to take a step and that I would only cooperate. Honestly speaking, I was curious where my silence would take me. But I didn’t want to initiate anything. Being married I didn’t have the courage to trigger what the man had in his mind and me too. But it was right then that I realized even if I was happily married I did have the immoral inclination of allowing another man to devour me like an animal, gifting him cues after cues to treat me like an object. Especially this particular man whose name I didn’t know, whose pedigree or medical condition I wasn’t aware of and whose present I didn’t care about. I only knew his intention. It was so very obvious. Also, I knew my intention. I found myself raising my right hand and touching his chest wiping off a bit of sweat from the skin. The man immediately came towards me, lifted my top from behind till my hips and put his hands on my butt. He squeezed them hard. I have never felt my heart beat so hard before. Not even when my husband saw me naked for the first time.
The taboo-like feel his grab generated in me made me forget that in a normal situation I would have slapped the man hard. He actually mauled my butt with his hand over my leggings for few seconds feeling the meat dance at his pressure and then pushed me gently towards the wash basin. He flipped me in a flash. My one hand was on the mirror atop the basin and the other on the window beside for support. He stood behind me now. My hips was in between his pelvis. He put his hands on the side of my hips. I knew what he was going to do next. Should I give in that easily? I kept my hands on his hands. I didn’t do so to guide him but to know what was he doing. My hands were only following his. No fight back. Together we tugged down my leggings till my knees.
The next instant his two fingers went inside my panty. I could feel his fingers trying to spread my vaginal lips. I am sure he wasn’t surprise to find them wet. I wasn’t. I felt him stretching my panty from behind with his other hand. It was obvious he wanted to take it off. Before I knew he tore open my panty and threw it on the toilet sink. I was truly shocked at this action of his. How could he just tear my panty like that? Then I felt his hand on my bare butt. I realized the man with whom I was flirting minutes ago was viewing my naked butt at his will now. He caressed the full shape of my butt in a way as if telling me: its just the way imagined! No words can define how sexy the feeling was. A stranger feeling up by bare butt. Bare butt! No educated upper middle class Indian woman would tolerate it. I did.
He removed his other hand from my vagina and held me by my stomach. Perhaps a minute later I felt his erect penis nudging my butt cheeks. He rubbed the tip of his penis on my anus. Not even my husband had seen or touched my anus. We never had such dirty sex sessions. Next I felt his penis tip kiss my perineum. It soon traveled to my vaginal lips.
I closed my eyes and locked my jaws. I knew I would soon be engulfed in a pleasure bath whose wetness would remain with me even if the man doesn’t meet me ever again. But I was trying my best to ignore the pleasure. His penis was inside my vagina now. I don’t know about his size or if he was longer or shorter than my husband. He was definitely thicker than him. He stretched me unlike my husband. He inserted his penis in me slowly and my mouth kept opening up wide. When his manhood was well placed in me, my mouth closed. My eyes were still closed though. He started his thrusts which were slow and deep. I could sense his overall strength with those thrusts of his. It was shaking me from my head to toe.
His one hand held me by my waist and the other suddenly landed on my breasts. He started squeezing it over my top. Seconds later he brought his hand over my face and felt it. For the first time I looked into the mirror to see his whole palm feeling my face. He forced his middle finger in my mouth and I reflexively started sucking it. As he fucked me, I kept sucking his thick middle finger. As our eyes linked through the mirror I bit his finger. I have never done that before. My husband would have been surprised if he had seen me then. On second thoughts he would have been shocked to death if he would have seen me with this man.
In the otherwise silence that was prevalent in the loo I could hear the thrust-sounds now. I could guess his pelvis was hitting my upper thighs in a rhythm now. We maintained our eye contact via the mirror. What did he think about me? He doesn’t know I am married. Or has he noticed the small red vermilion tick on my forehead. Its a tiny one but may be he has noticed it and knew he was fucking someone else’s wife who came to him ridiculously easy. I hoped he didn’t label me in his mind as a slut. I smiled at myself and wondered as if I cared if he did so.
My mind was too clogged to know how long it had been since we two were in the loo. I understood sometime must have passed when I realized it wasn’t he but me who was milking his penis. His hip was still while I was moving my hip to and fro with my vaginal walls gripping his penis rather tightly.
He held my hips. I stopped. He pulled out and turned me. I surprised myself by placing my hands around his neck. My mouth was thirsty for a smooch. Our heads tilted and we smooched. The hunger with which I sucked his tongue was scary. I didn’t know I could be that aggressive. I had never been so aggressive with my husband. The man sucked my tongue too. I don’t really remember how he tasted but I remember he rolled his tongue all through my upper and lower gums and licked my teeth with his tongue tip. He certainly was doing what my husband never did. We smooched till my mouth literally started aching.
As the smooch broke we looked at each other for an instant. I don’t know about him but I was definitely in a spell. I was confident the moment the spell broke I would realize, to my comfort, that every bit of it was a dream.
The man made me sit on the edge of the wash basin next and entered me again. This time I could sense his desperation as my one hand held him by his neck and the other was caressing his sweaty back. He was fucking faster this time. I had my eyes closed. I placed my other hand on his hips for better support and leaned towards his shoulder to rest my head as the fucking got intense. I could feel an orgasm building in me. My eyes were shut tight. When I couldn’t take it anymore I bit his flesh around his shoulder. The faster he fucked me, the deeper I bit him. Finally he groaned and came in me. I came too. His body went still while my teeth released his flesh. Neither of us moved for sometime. I was trying to get my breath back. Probably the same was true for him too.
He released me. He pants were not really down. He stretched the elastic of his shorts and took in his penis. He wore his t-shirt and went out unlocking the loo in a way as if I never existed. I too climbed down the basin and tugged up my leggings. I flushed the torn panty down the toilet sink and washing my face, came out of the loo.
I saw the man smoking by the train’s door. I didn’t look at him. I moved in, climbed up to my berth and stretched myself. I could feel my hips aching. I don’t know when I slept. It was 5 am in the morning when my eyes opened. I looked around but the man was not there. I looked down and his luggage was gone too. Probably he got down in between. I climbed down, careful not to wake up the rest, unzipped my bag and took out the plastic bag where I had kept all my undergarments. I went to the loo, wore a fresh panty and looked myself in the mirror. Whoever I saw there had to vanish because in two hours I was supposed to meet my husband at the station and carry on as if nothing had happened a night before in the dingy smelly loo of the train.
Comments are closed.