My wife carried out a whole day of shopping in the bazaars and shops of New Delhi and although I was there with her, I was mainly in charge of carrying the bags of all the stuff she bought. Most of it was clothes for herself and her sisters. Getting salwar kameez at such prices were unheard of in Texas. I was just looking forward to having a nice meal and getting back to our super comfy hotel room. Finally when the shops started to close, Meena decided to call it a day. We hailed a cab and told the driver to take us to nice Indian Chinese restaurant.
Like most restaurants in India, the lighting was dim. We sat in a booth and placed our orders. We ordered two bottles of mineral water and began to relax in the nice atmosphere. I was ultra careful about not getting sick in India so I really got concerned when the first churning occurred in my stomach. Immediately I stopped eating. "Meena, I think I ate something wrong today," I told my wife.
"Ok, we will get going to the hotel," she said. She quickly ordered the rest of the food to be packed to go.
After another minute, I started to sweat and felt everything spinning in the room. I said, "I need the bathroom, real quick." Clutching her purse, I could feel my wife trying to lift me up. My legs had no energy and I collapsed on the vinyl seats of the booth, my head slightly scraping the side of the table. I vomited, the stink and stench overpowering me. I felt so weak that I didn't want to move or get moved. Like a dream, I heard my wife's voice. Men were picking me up and I felt hands carrying me somewhere. I was placed on a hard bed, a pillow mercifully placed underneath my head. My wife got a wet towel and cleaned up the area around my mouth.
"They've called a doctor," she whispered in my ears. In the meantime, I got another spell of nausea and wretched myself another load of vomit but this time into a smelly red bucket. She wiped the drool off my mouth.
Meena sat on the bench in the tiny room lit up by a solitary bulb hanging from the ceiling. Two men entered. They looked like the waiters from the restaurant. They were asking her if I was feeling better. I could see her nod to them. The men sat on opposite sides of the bench, their faces looking concerned. My wife was between the two men. I thought it was strange that they slid closer to her and they practically sandwiched her. She was concerned at this point and started to get up. They pulled her back down.
"Leave her alone," I shouted but my voice came out weak. They didn't listen and their hands were cupping her breasts. One hand brazenly rubbed her crotch over her jeans. Her arms flayed to deflect the probing hands. I hadn't noticed but two other men entered the room. Another bout of nausea began brewing inside me. I struggled to control it and tried to get up on my feet but I collapsed from utter fatigue. I went for the red bucket and let go of some more puke. After that, I laid down again trying very hard to keep my eyes open.
The men had her on her feet and were removing her clothes. She tried to stop them but one of them smacked her hard on her face and she became immediately compliant. I couldn't tell one from the other. I could see that they worked on her fast that she was back down on the bench but without a stitch of clothes. A big fat brown dick slapped her cheek and she got the hint and opened her mouth. She began sucking on it while the other men played with her nipples. One of the guys had her legs opened and they were commenting on her bald pussy. They were all looking at it now marveling at the sight. Women in India never shaved their pussies because it left all decency out the door even with their husbands. Their hands explored her body marveling at Meena's soft fair skin. I was depleted of all energy and all I hoped was not to close my eyes.
"I'm going first," I could hear one of the men say.
"I go first," I heard another voice.
"I brought them here and as always I go first," the first man said. He removed his pants; his dick was smaller but stood tall and proud. I looked at his face and I could recognize him now. He was the cab driver that brought Meena and I to the restaurant.
They had Meena on her back now. The bench was smaller but the cab driver got his whole body on her. After a few pokes, his dick plunged into my wife's pussy. He grunted and commented that she was wet. They all laughed. He took his time and my wife wasn't resisting. He was trying to kiss her mouth and she kept moving side to side. He had gotten into a good rhythm and then stopped taking a break putting all his weight on her. He started again very soon after. It took awhile but his movement became jerky and then I knew he spilled his sperm into my wife. He got off slowly. "I'm going again after all you guys," he said. "Her pussy was amazing. It grabbed my dick tightly," he laughed looking at me.
Now the second man was ready. Before climbing on my wife, he said, "Clean her up, Goobi."
