Preet Kaur - The Town Whore Ch. 01

"Come on, Preet, you are a gorgeous and sexy woman," I joked, "Men will always find you appealing. Didn't you tell me that such fancies are quite common?"

"Of course, he found me beautiful because his wife was denying him sex, but why would he believe I'd have sex with him during my third trimester? Couldn't he then have sex with his wife?"

"His wife is nowhere near your league," I reasoned, "and don't you believe it's your job as a town whore to support such guys who are deprived of sex?"

She chuckled as she realized how absurd she sounded.

"I'd often wonder how middle-aged men handled their needs. Their spouses would have lost all of their drives and attractions by then. I've heard of senior males in the family sleeping with younger ladies of the family, usually the daughter-in-laws. Do you believe such things happen?" She asked.

She'd been reading a few stories online to help her comprehend the insanity that had enslaved her husband. We let the topic rest. It was obvious to her that a 25-year-old lady was far more appealing to Sunny than his own 33-year-old wife. Besides, Preet was a stunningly beautiful woman, and none of the women in our community could have matched her beauty or grace.

Preet led a dual life; at work, she mingled with well-educated individuals, but at home and in our community, she was surrounded by largely blue-collar workers who earned a livelihood by working in restaurants, gas stations, and farm jobs, among other things. She wasn't embarrassed about it, but there was a difference between how women in our group acted and how Indian women in her elite circle behaved.

We were invited to dinner at Inder's house the following weekend. Inder was like an extended family to us because he helped my uncle financially in the beginning and helped us get work when we moved to the United States. He was also a decent man, and we felt blessed to be socially connected to them. Preet would always find an excuse to avoid them, but I would always persuade her by emphasizing the value of being in the inner group.

There were a few other people at the supper, and everything appeared to be normal.

"Manni, I think we should quit mingling with them," Preet finally stated on the way back.

"Why?"

"You know, Inder doesn't have good intentions," she nonchalantly remarked.

"Come on, Preet. None of the men have good intentions about you. You can't hold it against Inder. The teenage boys were talking about gorgeous women from our families the other day, and you were their favorite."

"They called you Malena from Punjab," I joked.

At home, after a brief kiss, I pounced on her and dove into her pussy. She was feverishly lubricating; her own fluids were matted across her pussy lips, and I could see she was excited about becoming Inder's slut.

"Preet, did Inder actually finger you? You're leaking so much of the precum," I blurted out.

"Shut up, Manni," she said, but as soon as my tongue slithered into her slick hole, she began moaning. Even though she stated she didn't like him, there was a spark between them that was worth pursuing. I ate her for an eternity, and after about 20 minutes, Preet had a big climax. She allowed me to mount, and after a brief storking of 5 minutes, as is customary on such occasions, I ejaculated inside her.

Preet wasn't fully comfortable discussing him, but after a few more days of exploring, she informed me that he would constantly make an effort to touch her. During supper, he was reportedly stroking her buttocks and thighs. He often did it, but this time it was obvious that he was trying to exploit her.

"How come you didn't say anything?" I inquired.

"I didn't want to cause a fuss," she explained, "and anyway, he appears to be an elderly man from our family, and I didn't believe it would be proper to bring shame to our own family."

"Hmm... Yes, you did the right thing," I commented.

"People would doubt your character," I said.

"He has a young wife at home, so it doesn't sound like he'd try his luck with you. From everyone's point of view, you are like his daughter-in-law."

"I didn't want to come across as cold-hearted, but I also understood that if she had taken a risk, it might have easily blown things out of proportion. He was not only like family, but also a significant man in our community. Preet was sympathetic about it and handled it well."

"You know, Preet," I said, after a moment's contemplation, "Inder would also be a fantastic candidate."

She blushed and brushed it off. I had been seeking a decent fuckmate for her online, unbeknownst to her. I knew she was drawn to black males, so I posted a few of her photos online to pique the interest of black men in our neighborhood. Several men thought she was quite attractive and exchanged images of their dicks with her. Needless to say, they were far longer in length than our present dildo. She felt insulted, but she was also intrigued by the fact that so many well-endowed guys were interested in her.

"No way, Manni; I will not do this; certainly not for you," she stated emphatically. I let it simmer for a few days. I didn't think we were ready for the next step, but I didn't want to lose momentum, so I pushed for it. We had to travel to India in two weeks for a relative's wedding; it was a long holiday, so nothing would have happened anyway.

Even though she didn't seem interested when I gave her the images, I subsequently noticed her covertly inspecting them. That was enough to tell me that dark-skinned folks piqued her interest. The previous dildo I had ordered for her was a little white dildo. I proceeded to order a black-colored, 9-inch dildo.

When Preet came home from work that day, she was surprised to discover it on our dining table.

"Manni, you're going to get us in trouble," she exclaimed, her gaze fixed on that penis sticking upright.

"Do you think it'll even fit?" she inquired as I hugged her from behind. I was confident that Preet was a size queen. She had a wide smile on her face, as I basked in the satisfaction of finally encouraging her to be the woman I desired.

"Do you like the color?" I inquired as she lifted it up and examined it closely.

"It doesn't seem real, but it'll do," she said quietly.

"Did you know my gym buddies had given me a special pantie like the one you gave me?"

"Really?" In awe, I inquired. She dashed into our room and drew the pantie from her drawer.

"Made for Black Men Only," it said.

"They say one of the black gym instructors has a crush on me and has been wooing me," she laughed as my eyes almost popped out.

"No way. You never told me anything about it. Why are we searching for males on the internet?"

"Shut up, Manni," she exclaimed, continuing, "They think of my ass as that perfect PAWG woman designed for black men."

I understood what PAWG stood for and assumed it was a derogatory acronym for overweight women, but after some research, I discovered that I was partially correct, but not in the way I had imagined. It was true that no one liked the term since it implied that you were objectifying women, which of course they don't appreciate, except in the bedroom. The "Phat" element of the acronym stood for "Pretty Hot and Tempting."

"Apparently, black males have this thing about impregnating white women," she went on," and a lady with broad hips is more fertile and can deliver babies more easily."

Preet wasn't like the type of woman who was incredibly overweight or the type of woman that would come up if you searched for the phrase PAWG on the internet. Perhaps she could model plus-size dresses, even if she was on the low end of the "plus" scale. I was confident that the guys in our neighborhood lusted after her butt.

"Preet, you're practically white," I said softly as I nuzzled her neck.

"This is something that you deserved all along," I remarked as I took the penis from her grasp.

"Perhaps he deserved to perform the opening ceremony," I remarked as I turned her around and looked at her luscious lips.

"You think so?" she joked as she returned my kiss. Her breath had a distinctive odor, which I interpreted as a direct result of being in "heat." I loved her breath anyway, but in such moments, I would kiss her for eternity. "What would you do then?" she said after our passionate kiss.

"Don't you already know that?" I pushed her back on the bed, ripped open her pants, and dived into her pussy with zeal. Preet had grown accustomed to the ritual and was now preoccupied with her own pleasure. I ate her for probably two successive climaxes in a good half-hour.

She neglected my own erection after our session, claiming she had chores and our son to attend to.

"Should I contact him? This fitness teacher of yours?" I inquired as she walked to the restroom.

"Who do you think I was with immediately before I came home?" she asked, smiling as she shut the door.

That Preet was different. Preet's confidence had clearly risen. I was madly in love with my wife. She was the most beautiful lady I had ever seen, touched, or tasted. None of the white ladies I'd been with, not even the blondes, were in her league. We had a trustworthy relationship and could discuss such taboo subjects without fear of being criticized. That night, to celebrate our tiny achievement, I prepared a tasty supper for her. Preet was overjoyed, and while we lay on our bed that night, we held each other affectionately and talked openly.

"You know, Manni," she continued, "I was never fully at ease with my body."

"Really? Why?" I was taken aback since she was like an Apsara (maiden) from the heavens to me.

"I was so tall and had this large butt and breasts that lads would often refer to as udders," she remarked, a little hesitantly.

Hearing it, I smiled but quickly comforted her, "That's what men who want your ass and breasts would say, honey. It's not that they don't like them; in fact, they are extremely attracted to them."

"Besides, you're not really overweight," I added carefully, after a lengthy pause, "at all." She gave me a scowl. "You are perfect for me and, trust me, a lot of other men!" I hugged her.

"Do men really fantasize about impregnating women?" she inquired.

"All the time," I assured her.

"You know, all the guys in our neighborhood are hardworking men, and it's only fair that they get what they deserve from their wives after a long day's work. A beautiful woman like you would be a blessing to them. You are not only attractive, but you are also fully capable of raising a large family."

She blushed when she heard me say it out loud.

"True," she continued, "but I don't think......" She identified a few elderly individuals in our town and said, "are getting what they really need at home; their wives are so overweight and out of shape, let alone being attractive."

Preet seemed to have a thing for males in their forties, probably between the ages of 38 and 60. It usually came up in a subtle way, and she could easily slither out of it if I called her out on it. Rather than passing judgment on her, I wanted to investigate and understand her psyche.

"Of course not," I replied, "it's unfair; genuinely speaking, men appear to retain sexual vitality until quite late in life, especially if they work physically demanding jobs."

"Perhaps that's why those stories have grown in popularity--elderly men seducing younger women from their families," she immediately added.

Preet was conducting her own online research, and it appeared that she was captivated by those stories. There are numerous tales on the internet, but what piques our interest becomes the most popular theme. It's not true, but it's what smart algorithms make us believe. She was intelligent enough to recognize when she was being manipulated, so it's possible she entirely missed it or was only pretending.

"Hmm..." I said, nodding. My family had no one who could have done the honors, but thought Inder was close enough to our family that she would consider him in the future.

"Life can be so unfair, can't it?" she asked.

"When women are young, they are gorgeous, horny, and brimming with passion. They are aggressively sought by men prior to marriage, but after marriage, they must find a way to be content with just one man. In later years, when their allure fades, their spouses look for younger women."

I listened to her; she was not a philosophical person, so her introspection had left me in a quandary, and I wondered what was going through her mind. Fortunately, all I had to do was keep an open mind about it.

"If only our culture were more open, both men and women would be able to enjoy their sexual lives equally."

"In what way?"

Women are created in such a way that they can please a large number of men on any given day. Wouldn't it be a win-win situation if younger women took care of the needs of elderly men in their families and older women took care of boys who have reached the age of majority?"

"But aren't elderly women unattractive?"

She remarked wryly, "Young males merely need a warm hole."

"A lady in her early 40s to late 50s, after all, can provide a lot of pleasure to such men who might otherwise resort to porn and prostitutes, right?"

"Preet, it's really difficult to change the world, but we all know that true change starts at home," I responded, intrigued by her idea.

"Do you recall those panties? Those were intended as an advertisement for a community service that we provide, not some form of prostitution," I continued, laughing.

"Shut up," she grumbled.

"Don't you believe your lover requires your attention? I remarked as I picked up the dildo from our bedside table. She kissed me passionately, then pushed my head down and said, "My lover is going to mount me today. Prepare me for him."

Her pussy was already moist, and as always, I enjoyed the taste of her pussy. I took a couple glimpses and noticed Preet sucking on the dildo's knob with her mouth. She even licked the balls after a few minutes. I had no doubt that Preet would fulfill my wish.

She was ready to be taken by her boyfriend (i.e. the dildo) after about 10 minutes of eating her. She wanted to mount him and asked me to offer my penis so she could suck me simultaneously. Within a few minutes of being impaled by her boyfriend, she gasped and shivered with her climax. Obviously, the size was ideal for her. She could take it all in while also experiencing the intensity she seemed to seek. Soon after she climaxed, I shot my cum in her mouth.

It was a Saturday night, and we were both at home watching a movie. Normally, we'd be out partying somewhere else. We planned to travel to India the following weekend for a relative's wedding, so we opted to stay at home and prepare. We sat comfortably on our loveseat, watching another melodramatic film that Preet loved. "Should we name your lover?" I suggested as I rubbed her arm.

"I don't know, you must have thought of one already," she said, ignoring me.

When I didn't react, she glanced at me and asked, "So, is it going to be Sunny or Inder?"

Preet had finally accepted me as a cuckold and didn't seem to mind calling me that.

"Do you think they're that talented?"

"What do you know about penises anyway?" I confronted her.

Of course I do. In my life, I have touched and tasted four penises. Why wouldn't I know? "

"Four? You stated that you only had one boyfriend."

"Didn't you forget about those two dildos you got for me?" She mocked me.

"So, tell me, where do I rank among those four penises?"

"Shut up, Manni," she chuckled nervously and smacked my thigh, "I'm not going to tell you that."

"What's the harm?"

She gave me a puzzled look and then added, "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Manni, but you predicted correctly. You'd be at the bottom of the list."

Preet looked stunning and sexy at the time, and I lightly kissed her on the lips and whispered, "I am sorry to hear that, honey, but trust me, I will never make you regret marrying me. You can have all of those sizes on our marital bed, even if it means I don't receive my fair share. "

"Scoundrel!" she yelled as she pushed me away.

I decided to have a beer and went to our fridge, asking her if she wanted one.

"I'm breastfeeding Manni," she said, rewinding the movie to catch up on the scene she had missed.

"BTW, I thought Marcus would be a perfect name for the dildo. That's the name of your gym instructor, right?" I said, giving her my charming smile.

"That won't even get you any brownie points," she retorted.

"Where are my bottles, Preet?" I inquired, as my bottles had gone missing.

"How come you have so many milk bottles?"

"Honey, it's in the garage," she explained. I went to our garage refrigerator to get a bottle for myself, only to discover that there were additional milk bottles. I wondered how much milk she was producing. We used to play with her breasts, and she enjoyed it when I suckled and drank her milk. She even squirted her milk on me while riding my penis at times.

"What's up with those milk bottles, honey?" I murmured, crashing next to her.

"Oh, those are for Anju's baby," she said, fumbling for the right words.

"She's having problems producing milk, so she's asked for my assistance." Anju was Inder's wife, so it didn't seem strange, but why did she require so many bottles? Her infant was also a year old and could easily live on solid meals.

"Why are there so many?"

"Don't ask," she said nonchalantly, "since we'll be gone for a while."

"Don't worry, Manni," she reassured me, "it's for the baby; apparently she couldn't give him much of her breast milk and had requested me as a favor."

"She even recommended medication to increase my milk production."

"Oh, so you're now a human cow for them?" I was shocked, but not angered, by her response. It was a moderately erotic sensation for me. I had a feeling Preet had a thing for breast milk.

"Wait a second, Manni. What kinds of things do you say? Can't you think for a second before blurting things out?"

She rolled back and giggled uncomfortably.

"Do you truly believe they are for the baby? I'm sure Inder is gulping them down, which is why they require so many bottles."

"I knew you'd say that," she remarked, as she burst out laughing.

"If that's what he likes, then you can invite him over; I will feed him myself," she added, giggling.

"Does this count as community service?" I asked her playfully, after she had calmed down. When she heard that, her eyes brightened up, and she said, "Perhaps you can."

She dashed to her bedroom to retrieve her breast pump. It appeared to be a new one. She quickly removed her top, unfastened her bra, and got down on all fours.

"Utilize these pumps to milk me for Inder," she instructed. All of a sudden, Inder had catapulted to the number 1 position. In the very recent past, in my mind, it used to be Sunny; perhaps it was always Inder in her mind and I was just learning about it.

Her voice was filled with genuine excitement as I fumbled through the steps to first set up the machine and place the suction pumps on her breasts. Within seconds, I could see a small stream of white liquid pouring down the transparent pipe into the bottles. I couldn't help but fondle her butt in that stance since she was so sexy. I nuzzled into her crack and licked her anus, pushing down her pajamas. Preet immediately moaned in response. I made love to her lovely butt; she was aware of my interest and let me play with it for a little while.

"Perhaps you could feed Inder's children while he puts another baby in you? What do you think, Preet?"

Preet froze and looked at me as if she'd spotted a snake. She read it perfectly; I wanted to use Marcus on her while she was pumping milk for Inder's baby. Marcus (i.e. our new black dildo), of course, was standing in for Inder in this scene.