Testing Indian Wife's Limits Ch. 02

"Are you done? Marcus?"

"No mizz. Five more minutes."

She clicked her tongue in annoyance. Poked out her head to hear me talking again. And then knocked on the door again.

"Open the door." she said.

And he did, revealing him sitting on the toilet seat with his pants around his ankles and a hand holding a magazine to hide his dick.

"What are you doing with my Vogue?"

"The women help." he said.

"What?"

"You know...pretty ladies in short clothes?"

"Okay my husband is going to start wondering why you're in here this long. And I can't send you out with that. So...stay absolutely quiet."

With brisk business-like efficiency, Shama stepped in and bent over the young kid. She moved his magazine to the side and started pumping his sizeable rod with her hand.

Whoa! I don't know who was more surprised, me or Marcus. When I engineered these events, my expectation was that he would see her naked, she would feel embarrassed but aroused, like in Jamaica, maybe masturbate, and then be horny and ready for me. A voluntary handjob wasn't among my expectations.

"Oh mizzz..." Marcus said staring down the front of Shama's robe and probably getting a good look at those hanging beauties.

"I said stay quiet." Shama did not sound aroused or even thrilled. She was doing it almost as a chore.

This went on for less than a minute. A gorgeous older woman, or I guess a MILF in today's parlance, was giving him a handjob while he stared at her tits. Marcus's dick started splooshing out jizz very soon. Most landed on her robe. I think some might have landed on her upper chest and tricked down her boobs. She seemed neither surprised nor excited by the ejaculation.

She got up and started washing her hands. Marcus was sitting there, his dick started to slowly shrink, with a look of pure ecstasy on his face.

"Turn your head." Shama said brusquely.

He did and she quickly took off her robe. Before putting on a second robe hanging there, I saw her rinse her chest and boobs, confirming what i had suspected earlier. Then she quickly hand-rinsed the robe that Marcus had cum on, and dumped it in the washer. And turned it on.

It was a bit like a scene from Gone in 60 Seconds or Ocean's Eleven, except the heist my wife had pulled here was jacking off our yard boy and then getting rid of the evidence.

"You got your money. You got a handjob. Get out." she said sharply.

"Yes mizz." he had already zipped up his pants.

"Marcus, not a word of this to anyone, okay?"

"Okay."

"And don't come back to work here again. We'll find someone else."

"I understand, mizz." he said sadly. He really was a good guy.

"If my husband asks why you were in here so long, say you were using the bathroom."

"Yes mizz."

"Out!"

He walked out of the bathroom and the bedroom and Shama locked the door behind him. He stood in the hallway and chuckled silently a couple of times, obviously thrilled at this what had happened. Then he seemed to compose himself and started walking out.

As he strolled whistling, trying to look very casual, i realized I now had the opposite problem from what Shama had been worried about. I had the biggest erection ever, pokng against my shorts. Quickly I put my laptop on top of it turned my chair around to face away.

"Got the money, Mr. Garg. Bye." he said casually.

I just raised one hand and waved him goodbye, talking some gibberish about work to make it seem like I was still on the call.

When the door closed behind him, I switched screens to see what Shama was up to. Would she come out and yell at me for sending the young man in while she was having a bath? Well, I had plausible deniability there, because I had pretended to not hear her when she told me that. Besides, confronting me would mean revealing at least part of what had happened. And she had been tight-lipped about Jamaica.

In the bedroom, I saw her getting dressed. Not the masturbation like last time. But her facial expressions told quite the tale. Her eyes were dancing, and there was half a smile on her face. And her breathing was a bit heavier than normal. She had kept up the veneer of cold practicality in front of Marcus, but now, alone in the back, she was more expressive.

Once she got dressed, she went to the bathroom again. And was there a good fifteen minutes or so. She closed the door, so even with the webcam, I couldn't see what she was doing. but my guess was she was fingering herself. Because when she came out she was looking even more flushed than before.

Much like Marcus had, she stepped outside the bedroom and composed herself. By the time she walked out to me, her expressions were back to normal. I had started jabbering work stuff. My erection had subsided too, although it took a lot of thinking about Trump to make that happen. She stood a few feet away from me. I looked up at her, said,

"Stepping away for a bit, guys." and hit a button.

"What's up?"

"Almost done?" she asked.

"Yeah, just a few more minutes." I said.

"I'll start putting out lunch."

"Sounds good."

The rest of the day, both of us held our tongues about what had happened. Neither of us even mentioned Marcus, not even in the benign context of whether he had been given his money. It was like any other Saturday.

But once in a while, I caught Shama just randomly half-smiling to herself. And I was probably doing the same.