Unexpected Road Trip With Lakshmi And Her Cuckold Husband Part-1
When 27-year-old Fijaz takes up a five-day driving gig for a married couple on a road trip to Goa, he never expects it to turn into the most erotically charged journey of his life. With Bijesh, the quietly watching husband, and Lakshmi—the irresistible, mature Indian beauty in her forties—this trip quickly shifts gears from casual to carnal. What begins with playful glances and teasing fingers soon spirals into a full-blown cuckold fantasy where boundaries blur and desires take the wheel.
I’m Fijaz, 27 years old, working as a part-time call driver when I’m not handling family responsibilities. I’m 5’9", wheatish, with a gym-toned body, strong arms, and a trimmed beard. Most people think I’m younger than I look, and a few women have told me I have "those eyes"—the kind that scan, undress, and silently dominate.
It was just another early morning in Bangalore when I got a call for a 5-day long-distance booking. A soft-spoken man named Bijesh said he and his wife wanted to do a road trip to Goa. He explained the itinerary and fixed the rate without much haggling. It sounded like a good deal. But I had no clue what this ride was really going to become.
I reached their place sharp at 5 AM. Bijesh came down first. He was in his 40s, thin, spectacled, polite—nothing special. While we went over the plan, the door opened again… and Lakshmi stepped out.
My breath caught in my throat.
She was a vision—dusky skin glowing in the faint morning light, her thick, curvy figure wrapped in a soft cotton salwar, her dupatta falling casually over her chest. She looked around 45, but had that rare sensuality some women grow into with age. Her hips swayed slightly as she walked toward the car. Her lips were pink, naturally full. Her eyes were rimmed with kajal, deep and unreadable. Her breasts strained subtly beneath her kurta, and her thighs… heavy and shapely, hinted at hidden strength. A proper Indian MILF fantasy come alive.
“Good morning,” she said with a soft smile, adjusting her dupatta. But her eyes lingered on me for a second longer than needed.
Something in the way she looked at me—it wasn’t innocent.
We left around 5:30. Bijesh sat in the back, Lakshmi beside him. I adjusted the mirror and caught her eyes a few times. She smiled faintly. Her lips parted just a little. I noticed her legs were slightly apart. Her dupatta had slipped just enough to give me a glimpse of deep cleavage.
She wasn’t hiding anything.
We chatted during the drive. Bijesh talked about the route, the food, how they were looking to “relax” for a few days. Lakshmi was quieter. She only spoke when I asked something, but her voice was low, syrupy, almost teasing.
As we entered the lush ghat section, I suggested a break. We pulled over by a small waterfall. Bijesh lit a cigarette and wandered off to make a phone call. I stayed by the car, and Lakshmi stood beside me, admiring the view.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” I asked.
She looked at the waterfall, then at me. “Yes… peaceful. But wet things can also be wild.”
I froze for a second. Did she mean that the way it sounded? I looked at her, and she turned away, but I caught a smile.
Back on the road, Bijesh asked her to sit in the front to enjoy the views better. She hesitated, but he insisted. “He’s young, strong. Don’t worry, he won’t bite,” he joked.
She giggled and slid into the front passenger seat. Her thighs brushed my gear hand. She smelled like jasmine and warm sweat—a maddening mix.
They had brought oranges. She peeled one, and out of nowhere, Bijesh said, “Why don’t you feed Fijaz? He’s driving… make it fun.”
She laughed. “Seriously?”
He nodded. “Why not?”
She looked at me, mischievous now, and held up a slice.
I said nothing. Just parted my lips.
She leaned in closer, her fingers slipping into my mouth, brushing my lips. Her touch was soft but deliberate. Our eyes locked for a heartbeat too long. That slice melted in my mouth, but it wasn’t the fruit that made me shiver.
Her hand lingered near my face.
Bijesh chuckled in the back. “Let’s make this trip enjoyable.”
“I’m all in,” I said, keeping my eyes on the road… but my mind between her legs.
As the road twisted and turned, so did our tension. My hand rested on the center footrest. A few minutes later, hers joined mine. Casual. Innocent. But then our fingers touched—once, twice—then stayed.
I lightly grazed hers. She didn’t pull away.
My pulse quickened.
My little finger brushed her wrist. Her hand turned slightly… then held mine.
Not tight. Just enough.
That silent permission set my body on fire. I dared to inch closer, letting my fingertips graze her knee. She didn’t move. The road curved, and I took the opportunity to “adjust,” letting my hand shift onto her thick thigh.
Still nothing.
Encouraged, I let my fingers slowly stroke her inner thigh—closer, warmer. She shifted slightly, her legs parting just a little. My knuckles brushed fabric that felt thin… damp?
She looked straight ahead but bit her lower lip.
This was no longer a regular trip.
I could feel the heat radiating from her body, and I knew she was as aroused as I was. I let my fingers trail up her thigh, feeling her soft skin, and she leaned into my touch, her breath hitching slightly. I could see her nipples hardening under her kurta, and I ached to take them in my mouth. I let my hand rest on her thigh, my fingers inches away from her pussy. I could feel the dampness through her clothes, and I knew she wanted me as badly as I wanted her.
We reached the Goa hotel by nightfall. I had already been paid and expected to move into my separate room.
But Bijesh said casually, “Fijaz, no need for a separate room. You can stay with us, if you’re okay.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
He nodded. “We don’t mind. You’ve been very helpful.”
Lakshmi didn’t say a word. Just smiled softly and walked into the room.
After freshening up, I stepped out in a t-shirt and shorts. Lakshmi had come out of her bath. And my breath caught again.
She wore a satin nighty, deep maroon, clinging to her body. Her thick thighs peeked out from the slit. Her nipples showed through the fabric. No bra. No care.
She looked at me, then lay down on one side of the bed.
Bijesh, adjusting the sofa cushions, looked at me and said, “You can sleep with her. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
My heart pounded. “Are you serious?” I asked, barely above a whisper.
He smiled. “Completely.”
Lakshmi didn’t react. She just turned slightly, her back arched, her ass peeking through the slit of her nighty.
She was waiting.
And I was ready.
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