The Hunting Lodge

They both kissed for a long time. The reality of what she was saying had become crystal clear to Arun. Several times he did notice each of his friends were overtly touching his wife as they were around her, and inside the room when they made love, they had been passionately kissing, caressing, and holding onto one other. Reshmi was right; when this all started, was simply about the sex. They simply wanted fuck another man's wife and when it was over, it should have been over. But it wasn't. Especially with Akram. In hindsight, Arun realized, he should have noticed that it truly did develop into more than sexual intercourse between Akram and his wife.

Arun then started the car again. Reshmi was in a much better mood.

"When we were leaving," She giggled, "Akram had cupped my right butt cheek and said this would have to be a yearly tradition. Raja had then walked over, pinched my other butt cheek and agreed to what Akram had said."

"Where was I?" Arun asked.

"You were loading things in the car." Reshmi replied. "And then Nahid walked over, and straight away unbuttoned the top two buttons on my shirt, reached inside, and scooped out my boobs. I was there, a married woman, standing and being treated like a bazaari aurat -- a prostitute. My tits and ass in the hands of other men. I was being groped and mauled by your friends and all I could think of was how wet I was and how I wanted them to take me right there and then."

"I see."

"All the three men then said they would visit me far more regularly from now on. I will have to service them, whenever they come. No holes barred!"

"Well..." Arun replied, "I will put a stop to that thought of theirs."

"Thank you, honey."

They eventually reached home.

Arun thought it might be weeks before she and her made love again, given how many times she had intimate intercourse with Akram, Nahid and Raja at the lodge, but that very same evening of their return, as soon as they went to bed, they instantly began grabbing and tearing at one another. It was one of their wildest and most animalistic passionate sex they ever had.

* * *

It was 2 am in the morning.

2 am!

Arun just couldn't sleep. Upstairs, Reshmi was sleeping soundly. She and Arun had sex twice, and her whole body was now catching up from this long weekend's activities. She would be having a very long night's sleep.

And yet Arun was here, on his dining table, with a glass of Coke in his hand. He couldn't sleep. Tomorrow was Tuesday, and they were all going back to work.

As Arun sipped his drink, he thought about the quick conversation he had earlier that evening with his CIO. It was just before he had gone to bed.

"Sorry about calling you this late, and on a long weekend, Arun." Bob had started by apologizing. Despite being a CIO, he always respected his employees' weekends. "But it's a big day tomorrow. I wanted to outline what will happen."

"It's OK, Bob." Arun responded. "Long weekend is almost over; it's Monday evening. I can talk."

"How's that's lovely wife of yours, Arun? And how about you? Did you have a good trip?"

Even my CIO can't get enough of Reshmi!

"It was a great trip, Bob." Arun replied. "And Reshmi enjoyed it as well."

"And Akram was there, too?" Bob asked.

"Yes." Arun answered. "And don't worry, Bob. I have told him nothing. This was strictly a friends' hunting trip. Akram knows nothing about tomorrow."

"Good. So tomorrow, Tuesday, first day back after our long weekend," Bob got straight into business. "At 9.30 am, right in the morning I will call Akram to my office. And I will tell him that his services are no longer required."

"Yes, I understand, Bob."

About four months ago when Bob had called Arun into his office, and told him that he was planning some restructuring, Arun had thought at first it was he who was getting laid off. But then Bob clarified that it was Akram who would be fired, and Arun would not only take over Akram's job and responsibilities as development lead, but get a nice raise as well.

To be honest, Arun wasn't surprised. Akram wasn't a very hard worker, but he had good luck through his career which meant he was now a project manager. Yet his work was sloppy, and several times he had to depend on Arun to work late and help him out. Arun did it, but he made sure others knew, subtly, who was actually doing the work. Bob had his eye on Akram for a while now after several projects' missed deadlines.

Yes, it was sad that Akram was going to lose his job. As a friend, Arun was not happy about that, especially as Akram had helped him get a job in the company in the first place. Yet, this was also professional life. Business and all that -- where you had to prove your value, or ship out. Arun had understood that.

"And after he leaves the building, maybe around 11 am," Bob continued, "I will send out an email about the restructuring, and your new roles and responsibilities. You can take over at that time."

"Thank you, Bob."

After going over some minor things that needed to be ironed out, such as Arun's network access and new office space, the call had ended.

So, tomorrow morning, Arun thought, Akram is going to get two big shocks.

First, he is going to lose his job.

Second, that email with pictures of him, Nahid and Raja fucking Reshmi will go out to all of them. Including the wives.

That bombshell is probably going to ruin their marriages, Arun thought. And they will blame Raja for sending out the email, so this will ruin their friendship. Raja will deny it, but no one will believe him. And at some stage Raja might figure out who sent the mail, but it would be too late.

Arun realized that after tomorrow, the Trinity Gang of 4 might be no more. This might have been the last hunting trip at that lodge for all of them.

He glanced at his clock.

2.20 am.

Arun grabbed his phone and opened his gallery app. He went to a special folder and opened up a picture.

Uncle Raj.

Jaya mamani.

These two had brought up Arun from when he was ten years old, when his parents had died in a train accident. His uncle Raj, who was his mother's brother, and worked as a truck driver in Brampton, Ontario, had flown to India and did all the paperwork so that Arun could be sponsored and adopted quickly. In a couple of months, Arun left his home in India, and all he knew, and settled into a new country -- Canada. And making that transition easy was his aunt Jaya -- or as he called her -- Jaya mamani.

Jaya was a beautiful lady. Six years younger than her husband, she kept herself fit, athletic, and she was an educated and accomplished woman. Her husband owned his own truck, and made good money, but he had a diploma, whereas Jaya completed her Ph.D. and took on a research position at the University of Toronto.

She was a loving lady, and treated Arun just like her son. The couple already had a younger daughter, three years younger than Arun, but everyone thought Arun was also their child -- so attached they were to him. Everyone assumed the couple had a son and a daughter, never knowing that Arun was adopted.

Raj's long travels (he was usually on the road half he month) did mean they didn't get a lot of family time as they were growing up, but Jaya always made sure theirs was a loving, comforting, nurturing home. Arun excelled in his studies, and soon he was accepted in University of Toronto for his undergraduate degree.

In his first year of university, tragedy struck the household.

Jaya was involved in a huge scandal at the university. Details of her affair with a bunch of first year male students came to light. It broke Raj's heart, and he died a month after the news became public. Raj's family, and even his daughter -- and Arun's sister by adoption -- wanted nothing to do with their mother Jaya. She was ostracized, and she lost everything. Her job, her family, her friends.

Jaya was her family name -- or as Indians called it -- her "pet" name. Officially, she had a proper first name, or the "good" name. In the university, she was known by that name.

Swati.

And to the students, and the three boys who fucked her often, as Mrs. Swati.

Arun was perhaps the only one who had some sympathy for Jaya. Not only was she his mother figure, but he could understand why she did what she did.

Ever since Arun had crossed 19 years of age and discovered pornography and erotica, one particular category fascinated him.

Hot wives. Cheating wives. Cuckolds. This particular genre never failed to titillate and arouse him.

The taboo of a wife having sex with someone other than her husband, and sometimes with the knowledge of the husband, captivated him. For some reason, he found the topic very arousing, and would often masturbate to stories and videos of cheating hot slutty wives.

"Why did you do it?" He asked Jaya once. Unknown to the rest of his family members, he still kept in touch with her. Jaya, a broken lady, now worked as an instructor and lecturer at a private college and live in a small apartment.

"I guess that was just me." She admitted. "I was always a slut, Arun. I slept around in my younger days. I loved sex. Wild sex. And when I met your father -- your uncle -- I... I stopped all that. I loved him. I really did. I really do... and for a long time, I supressed that. Those urges -- I killed them."

"And yet," Arun pointed out, "When you met Akram..."

"I know." Jaya sighed. "I don't know what happened. Something... something woke up in me when that boy -- Akram -- flirted with me. I don't know why... but the only thing I could think about... obsess about... was how it would feel if his cock was inside me. And not that I wanted him to make love to me. No... I wanted him to take me. To use me. Him... and his friends."

Jaya's words remained with Arun. Even as he transferred his college to Trinity, to the same dorm as those boys.

Akram.

Nahid.

Raja.

He befriended them, and soon he was firm friends with them. At no point did they realize that this Arun was the nephew, and actually adopted son, of the lady -- Mrs. Swati -- that they used to fuck on a regular basis.

Arun would sometimes hear anecdotes of how Akram had seduced Mrs. Swati, and later how they all had gangbanged her one night, and never let on to the fact that he knew who this lady was. As far as everyone was concerned, Arun's parents were dead.

Arun didn't blame the boys completely. It takes two to tango, and these were young men who were willing to bang any available pussy. Mrs. Swati -- or Jaya mamani -- just made hers available to them. Yet, it had destroyed Arun's family. It had killed his uncle.

Revenge was not on Arun's mind. At least not immediately.

Yet, as soon as he discovered Reshmi's videos with Nambi, suddenly another thought started to come in his head. A fear.

I really love my wife, Arun would often debate with himself. I really love her. But I know she was a slut. She perhaps STILL is a slut, but has suppressed her feelings. Maybe, just like my Jaya mamani, at one time in my life, Reshmi will betray me. Something will awaken again in her, just like it did with Jaya mamani, and I will end up like uncle Raj.

Until a plan started to take share in Arun's head.

It's not betrayal if I know about it, Arun realized. Reshmi knows about my interest in cuckold erotica. I have shared Tarek Zia's hot stories with her. We joke about Akram taking her to bed. So... why not... make it happen.

Yet, still he did not think about revenge. It was only when Bob had told him about Akram's upcoming layoff did he start thinking about it.

As soon as Akram finds out I knew about his layoff, and I took over his position, our friendship is done, Arun realized. If that HAS to be the case, then why not make him pay for what he did to my aunt and uncle.

The plan took concrete shape then.

I will make Akram and the others sleep with my wife, Arun decided. It will give Reshmi that outlet, and let her have that sex she wants, without spoiling my marriage. She just needs it from time to time.

I will capture some moments on record, and use it to break their marriages. It's been years, but it will be sweet justice.

For uncle Raj. For Jaya mamani.

Arun raised his glass of Coke.

"Well," He raised the toast, "This is one is for you... Mrs. Swati."