The Unwanted Houseguest is an epic and dramatic saga of a man’s struggle with himself over his wife’s infidelity, and gradual coming to terms with his deepest fears and desires. It is the epitome of the genre of cuckold literature for its titillating portrayals of the psychological angst that characterizes a loving, female-dominated, cuckold marriage.
The author of the original story disappeared years ago without finishing the story, unfortunately. The first 26 chapters of his story are available elsewhere (message me for directions on where to find it). I have posted chapters 27 through 30 on this forum. Below you will find the next chapter 31. Here is a brief synopsis of the story from chapters 1-26:
Synopsis of chapters 1-26:
Manu Sharma is a ~30 year man married to the confident and very attractive Kavita. They are college-educated, modern professionals working in Bangalore. Although they appear outwardly happy and successful in most material ways, their intimate life suffers from Manu’s gradual realization that he is a beta male who cannot satisfy his wife’s sexual needs.
The story begins when Kavita’s acquaintance from college comes to stay with the couple. His name is Amir Ali, or Prem to his friends. Over the next 7 months, Manu’s worst fears are realized as his wife’s sexuality blossoms in the presence of Prem. He suspects that his wife was note than just an acquaintance. He discovers to his distress that his wife had an initiate relationship with Prem in college. He suspects that she still has feelings for her ex. Manu’s growing self-doubt around his own masculinity causes him to sink into an abyss of cuckold angst, effectively encouraging his wife to fulfill her sexual desires with Prem. On the side, unbeknownst to Kavita, Prem bullies Manu to undermine his confidence and take his wife away from him.
Various trials, misunderstandings, humiliations, and difficult experiences slowly edge Manu towards a “reluctant embracing” of his repressed desires to be a submissive sissy cuckold. With the steady erosion of his masculinity, Manu descends deeper into psychological despair, torn apart by the simmering internal battle between his culturally-ingrained expectations of what it means to be a man against his own demons that revel in the submission to his wife and to the manly man that she has embraced.
Throughout the ordeal, despite Kavita’s blatant infidelity in their own home, she simultaneously reinforces her love for her husband. She desires only that he accept himself, that he show his attachment and affection for her, and that he answer her question about whether he is hiding something. Manu, being of a supremely optimistic disposition, finds just enough positive intentions in his wife’s actions to keep from completely losing hope of getting her back. At the same time, Manu remains hopelessly conflicted in his emotions. He loves Kavita so greatly that he is able to forgive, accept, and commit to proving himself in her eyes and winning his wife back, while also subconsciously desiring, in an act of ultimate devotion, to lose his wife to a better man in order to a better man.
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The Unwanted Houseguest Chapter 31 – Scenes Not Meant to Be Seen
The sound of the shower stopped. My heart was beating so hard that I had to remind myself to breathe. Kavita stood by the bed, dressed like a newlywed bride, waiting for her man to consummate the marriage. I remembered my own wedding night many years ago. Kavita wore a more traditional saree then. But now she looked even more beautiful to me, perhaps because now, having enjoyed the experience of sexual union with this woman, I genuinely appreciated what I was about to be denied even more acutely. Or maybe I felt the angst more because now I knew this woman and had grown to love her, despite the wayward affair that I wanted so badly to write off as a distraction in our eventual journey.
Soon the bathroom door opened. Amir Ali, known as Prem to his friends, the unwanted houseguest and the intruder into my marriage, emerged from the shower, wearing only black colored silky briefs. He looked like the prototypical warrior, masculine features with chiseled jaw, sharp eyes, broad chest and strong shoulders. His manhood made quite an impression inside the taut underwear, jutting out in a visible mound. He admired Kavita with hungry eyes. She got up to meet him as he embraced her in a long kiss. She moved one hand to his crotch and whispered something to him. He turned her around so she was facing the wall, pushing her up against it. She held her hands against the wall for support and spread her legs slightly. Prem pressed his crotch into her backside and reached around to cup her breasts. She moaned slightly, and then again. He rhythmically fondled my wife until her legs started to get weak.
“Kiss me, Prem,” she spoke with a sultry voice that I had never before had the pleasure of hearing. “I want you lover. I am all yours.” He turned her around and continued groping and kissing her as she leaned against the wall, her face flush with desire. She got down on her knees. She looked up at Prem with a naughty grin as she pulled his briefs down. His penis rose to attention as my wife took it into her mouth. She licked the shaft skillfully, running her tongue up and down. Soon his member jutted out, curving upwards, glistening in anticipation. Being a Muslim guy, his penis was circumcised, so the head stood out distinctly, unlike my penis whose head was covered in its foreskin. Gradually she managed to get over half of his penis into her mouth, bobbing her head back and forth. She looked up at him with her big round eyes every so often. Now it was Prem’s turn to lean on the wall for support. She held his bare buttocks with her delicate hands while continuing to fellate him for several minutes. I could see his muscular buttocks tighten up and relax and his head drop back every few seconds as she pleased his penile nerve endings with her tongue. Every few seconds she would stop to blow cool air on his cock to slow him down. Then she would flick her tongue on the head of his penis and tickle his balls to get him going again. Then she would take him into her mouth all over again.
This continued for almost ten agonizing minutes. I was jealous beyond belief. Kavita had never given me a blow job with such porn-star expertise. She showed an enthusiasm in this art like something straight out of the Kama Sutra. She must have gotten to practice extensively to have perfected this technique. My own penis felt hard just looking at them.
Prem stepped back and helped her stand up. He did not come in her mouth. Maybe he saw that she was getting tired of getting throat fucked, or maybe he wanted to save himself for later. He sat down on the bed to catch his breath. He picked up a remote control to the stereo system. It started playing a song a romantic Hindi song, one of Kavita’s favorites. He seemed to know her preferences quite well, just like with the flowers. “Dance for me, babe.”
Kavita took a moment to straighten out her saree and brush her hair back. She looked into his eyes as she moved to the rhythm, thrusting her hips, waving her hands over her head, spinning around, swaying back and forth to the music, mouthing the lyrics, and teasing her lover. Her radiant smile and seductive moves made me hot and horny. She flaunted the end of the sari against his face, teasing him like a bullfighter would tempt a raging bull. Eventually Prem caught the end of the sari and reeled her in. He started to unravel the saree, turning her round and round. He kissed her mouth and ears and neck as she spun slowly. He kissed her while continuing to move his manly hands all over her body, groping her right ass and rubbing her neck while playing with her breasts. The saree spun off and fell to the floor in a puddle of silky wedding attire, having achieved its mission of seducing her man, and leaving my wife in only her blouse and petticoat.
Prem reached over to my wife’s breasts, fondling them, tracing his fingers all around the contours of the blouse, eventually bringing his fingers to the small clasps that held it on. One by one, he managed to methodically release the metal clasps. The blouse came apart at the front, dropping away to reveal her perky breasts. He looked at her eyes as he did all this, then he leaned down to her chest. I could see her perky breasts, so firm like ripe mangoes, with nipples erect. He kissed the nipples one by one. I bit my knuckle in agony. Then he leaned over to close to her navel, bit down on the drawstring of her petticoat, and then pulled it loose with his mouth. She grinned at him as the petticoat dropped away, leaving her with only panties.
Prem picked up my wife and lay her down on the bed gently as she giggled. He pulled her panties off and tossed them to the side. She spread her legs, shamelessly opening up to him. It looked like she had shaven her pussy bare, no doubt for his pleasure. He stuck his head between her legs and licked her as she clutched the sheets and screamed in pleasure. Kavita’s chest heaved up and down as she got worked up. “Please Prem, I need your cock!”
“Where do you want it, Kavita?” He teased.
“Goddamnit Prem. Just fuck me! Fuck me good and hard! I can’t wait!!!”
“Where do you want me to stick my cock?”
“Put it in my pussy now!” Kavita screamed.
“Whose pussy is it?” Prem teased.
“It belongs to you!” She replied impatiently.
“Say it belongs only to me!” He demanded.
“Prem please,” she pleaded. “Fuck me now!” He was leaning back on the bed stroking a giant erection. Kavita relented and told him what he wanted to hear. “Prem, my married, pussy belongs only to you and no one else tonight. My pussy needs your cock...” she lay on the bed moaning in desire.
She openly gave herself to Prem, exclusively. Sway by her passion, and her intense desire for sex with Prem, she promised her ‘married’ pussy. It added salt to my wounds. She made the promise exclusive to him only. Again it felt like a kick to me. It was hurtful beyond belief, but then I reminded myself that she didn’t know I was present, listening. Her words were not meant for me to hear. My devious plan to snoop was hurting only me. Had I not sneaked in to spy, I would have not seen or heard anything. My ignorance would have been my bliss. But it was not so. I was here by my own actions. My only relief was that she qualified her statement to say ‘tonight.’ She was giving herself to him temporarily, just for this one night. Then it would be over.
With his ego satisfied, Prem positioned himself on his knees and lifted Kavita‘s feet into the air in a V-shape. He inserted himself into her with little resistance, half way at first, and then deeper until he buried his entire penis inside my petite little wife. I could see his muscled buttocks pistoning in and out. The movements made a rhythmic slapping sound characteristic of flesh against flesh. The anklets on Kavita’s feet shook with each motion. There were flower petals crushed between their bodies and the bedsheets. Occasionally, I could see her hands rise and fall, with her fingers clutching the sheets.
As my wife got pleasured in this royal fashion, spread out on the bed in her beautiful naked splendor, I noticed that she did not appear to be wearing her new belly ring tonight. That surprised me since she was fully adorned in every other aspect. I figured she must have removed it so that it didn’t get in the way of their body to body motions. She must have anticipated that she would be spending a lot of time in bed with her lover, with bodies pressed against each other, and hence decided to remove the jewelry to prevent chafing. The entire night must have been planned meticulously.
Prem inserted himself again and they collapsed onto the bed missionary style. He drilled her over a hundred times, hard. Yet she wanted more and more. I thought at some point they might break the bed. Finally he started to grunt harder and increase his intensity. His cock looked enormous as it pounded in and out all the way. Kavita wrapped her legs around his back. “Prem, I’m gonna cum again! Let me milk you!” He pushed himself up to change his angle of penetration. Then I saw my wife move her hips with frenzied passion, tightening her muscles, and squeezing his penis.
Prem turned rigid as he moaned, “Oh Kavita! Kavi, of my God. That…feels…so…oh,” his voice trailed off.
“Shhh…” Kavita said, looking into his eyes. “Just enjoy. This is for you.” Prem closed his eyes as she fucked him faster and faster. He was no longer going in and out. Instead, she was the one massaging his cock with her sweet wet pussy. Her vaginal muscles, strengthened by years of yoga exercises, were now being used to massage another man’s center of pleasure in a most intimate and intense rhythm of tight stroking. ‘This is for you,’ she had said. Those words shot straight to my heart. ‘This,’ referring to a level of intense sexual pleasure, ‘is for you’, was a rare gift given to her lover, not to me, her husband, given willingly, with a passion and desire not expressed for her husband, but reserved for another man.
Kavita screamed out loud as she came powerfully. Then Prem came too. “Aaaahhhhhhhh…” Prem let out with a primal moan. He pumped her as he climaxed and continued grunting as wave after wave of the orgasm subsided. He lay on top of her, his cock still inside Kavita. Finally he rolled off of her. His cock glistened in the dim light of the room, finally resting on its side but still menacingly large even after orgasm. Kavita cuddled up next to him, resting her head on his chest, with her naked breasts pressed up against his body. In the dark silence, I could hear their heavy breathing gradually subside.
“I love you, Kavita,” he spoke.
“Hmmm,” Kavita responded. “I love you too.”
And then they fell asleep.
I had spontaneously come in my pants even without touching myself. I was so mesmerized with the passionate action happening in front of me that I had reached an involuntary orgasm. My seed had been wasted into a sad little puddle at the bottom of my underwear. I wanted to go to the bathroom, but unfortunately, I would just have to hold it in. I dared not move out of my hiding spot. My heart was beating so hard that I could feel it in my chest. I felt dazed by the audacious events I just witnessed. Part of me wanted to rewind and never have entered my home to see this. But I could not unsee it, or unhear it. I kept experiencing the scene of my own wife reaching sexual heaven in the vivid reality of her feminine beauty, with my enemy’s engorged penis buried deep inside her most intimate place. It was burned into my memory now – the visuals would haunt me forever. I could never please my wife like this. Yet I found it so erotic. Why was my dick getting hard as I thought about another guy ravishing my wife? I had no answers.
I thought about leaving now but it was midnight, and I had nowhere to go. Better that I just sleep a little, wake up early in the morning and then slip out. I shifted back behind the middle of the sofa where I would not be noticeable and then fell asleep on the hard floor.
