My Struggles with Trupti Ch. 02

15 Aralık 2021 0 Yazar: sexhikayeleri


Trupti’s “apartment” turns out to be the basement of a half-empty building by the Hudson river. In fact we have to go in through the back entrance. Only two small bulbs come on when Trupti flips the switch. And the place looks like a complete mess, like no one has lived there in ages. It reminds me of one of the properties my company bought during the real estate crash that I had to do some assessment work for. For all I know, it might be one of those properties.

“I know it looks a bit run down.” Trupti says, leading me into it. “but it’s functional.”

“Are you sure you’re legally allowed to be here?” I ask cautiously.

“Stop worrying about the law. I live here. That should be good enough. Squatting on someone else’s property is what this country was built on.”

She leads me to a small bedroom with a queen sized bed. It has a dirty mattress with no bed sheet.

“This is where we sleep I guess.” Trupti shrugs and says. “You can put your luggage wherever you want.”

She takes off her coat and flings it in one direction, standing naked in front of me. I sit down uncomfortably on the bed. She lays down next to me.

“Where can I change?” I tentatively ask.

“You can change right here. I am naked, aren’t I? Besides, I have already seen those D-cup tits.” Trupti says, laughing.

“No, I’d just…”

“Okay fine. Just change in the next room.”

I go into the next room with my night clothes and flip the light switch on. It stays dark. I sigh and get out of my coat and clothes. I am standing there naked, about to reach for my jammies, when I feel the touch of a finger, precisely on my clit.

“What the hell…Trupti?” I yell, trying to slap the hand away but it stays there.

“Shhh… you know you need this.”

Trupti says and her fingers start playing with my clit expertly, making me go weak in my knees. I do need this.

“Please, don’t…” I feebly say in protest, but she has found the spot so well, I slump to the floor and in her arms. “why…are you…doing…this?” I say between the bursts of pleasure her fingers were sending through my body.

“Because you need it.” Trupti whispers in response.

Seated on the floor, my legs part as she continues to finger me, sending tidal waves of pleasure surging through my entire being. And just as I am getting used to the feel of her fingers, I feel something poke against my pussy lips. Even in the darkness, when I look down, I can make out the outline of a dildo being inserted into my pussy.

“Ahhhh…Truptiiiiiiiii” I shriek in please as she forces the dildo deep into my pussy even as her fingers kept playing with my clit. My body is swept up in a burst of pleasure it has never known.

Monday. I wake up with a start. Naked. On the dirty bed with no sheets. It takes me a few moments to register where exactly I am. I reach over with my hand, but the other side of the bed is empty. Empty except for a note that reads –

“Sorry, had to run out for some work. Seeya tonight.



I check the time on my cellphone. Ten a.m.! I am two hours late for work! I run to the bathroom, and take a shower standing in the spotted and mildewed tub. I come out, get dressed. Then consider dropping my luggage home. The day guard must have the key. But I look at the time again and decide I’ll come back for it later.

I run out the door a few minutes later, on my way to work.

Monday night. A little after 9 p.m. I walk out of my office building, and see Trupti standing there. She is wearing a halter top with a short wrap around skirt. Looking gorgeous as always. And with a wide smile on her face.

“Trupti, what’re you doing here?” I ask.

“Do you always work this late?” she asks.

“No, sometimes.”

“Your boss was a bitch about you coming in late?”


“Any words of praise for getting the account?”


“Come with me. We’re going to get drunk.”

“I don’t really drink, Trupti.”

“Just come with me.” she says, and hails a cab.

An hour later. Central Park. When Trupti said we’re going to get drunk, I thought she’d take me to a bar like yesterday. Instead, she stops by a liquor store, gets a big bottle of schnapps, and takes me to the northern end of the park. Where we sit, in the darkness slightly illuminated only by the bright lights of the surrounding buildings, and drink out of the bottle concealed in a brown paper bag. Well, she does most of the drinking. I take only the occasional polite sip.

“Is this really the life you want? Getting pushed around, living alone in a dingy apartment, getting no sex?”

“Sex is overrated.” I slur. Even with the few sips, my body, not used to alcohol, is feeling its effects.

“Really? Sex is overrated? The way you were shrieking last night when I was…”

“Trupti!” I yell, and she starts laughing. “Please don’t remind me of that.”

“Why not?”

“I am not a lesbian.” I say, lowering my voice although there is no one around.

“Lesbian?” Trupti says and starts laughing again. “You think what happened last night made you marmaris escort a lesbian?”

“Didn’t it?”

“If getting your clit fingered, and having a dildo up your cunt makes you lesbian, then all women are lesbian.” Trupti says.

I stay silent, a little surprised at how effortlessly she uses dirty words. Trupti passes me the bottle. I take a big swig.

“We Indian women have been brought up to hate fun. Stay away from pleasing ourselves in any way. Live by the rules others set. Usually men. First fathers and then husbands. And we are just supposed to toe the line.”

“Things are changing.” I say.

“For better or for worse? Your mom went from living in her parents’ house to marrying your dad at…what age?”

“Twenty one.”

“Twenty one. So at twenty one, she was getting regular sex. Here you are, considerably older than she was, and how’s your sex life?”

I say nothing.

“I am not asking you to get married. I am just asking you to live. There’s more to life than making lots of money and collecting Pottery Pen crap. You are in New York. The greatest city in the world. The most exciting city in the world. This isn’t Delhi or Bombay where you’ll get castigated as a harlot. This is the city of Sex and the City.”

“So that’s what I should do? Just sleep around?”

Trupti laughs out loud.

“There’s sleeping around and there’s sleeping around. I am not asking you to be one of those women with low self-esteem who sleep with men just to feel appreciated. I am asking you to recognize your own needs, and fulfill them while recognizing the power you wield.”

“What power, Trupti?” I ask.

Two young men, barely out of their teens are walking by. Trupti smiles at me and calls out to them.

“Excuse me. Excuse me for a moment.”

They stop and come close to us.

“Hi. How much would you gentlemen pay to get a look at these tits?” Trupti points at my chest and I take a deep breath in shock.

“Hmmm…they look big. What size are they?” one of them calmly asks.

“36D.” Trupti says.

“Umm… fifty bucks?”

“Not bad. But we’re not interested in money.” Trupti says. “Here’s the deal. You two are friends, right?”

“Yeah.” the other one answers.

“Close friends? Best friends?”

The guys nod.

“You two fight. Right here in front of us. And I am talking about a real, hardcore fight, where the guy who gets beaten needs help walking. You two fight like that. And whoever wins, not only get to see the boobs, but also gets a topless blowjob.”

“Are you serious?” One of the guys says.

“Totally and completely serious.”

“Hold on.” the other guy, the smaller of the two says. “I ain’t gonna fight you just to get a blowjob from a Central Park whore.”

“It’s up to you. You can walk away, and we’ll find the next two guys who come along.”

“Fine, we’ll just…” he starts speaking but is knocked off his feet by the other guy. “Sean, what the fuck, man?”

He starts fighting back. And pretty soon the two of them are trading blows, right there in front of us.

I have just been staring dumbstruck this whole while. I keep staring at the two men fighting each other for a look at my boobs. And of course a blowjob.

“Trupti, I am not doing any of that.”

Trupti doesn’t say anything. Just keeps watching the men fight. Despite one of them being bigger than the other, the fight is even. They fight brutally for a good five minutes or so, neither of them dominating the other one, when.

“What’s going on here?”

Two policemen walk up from the bushes. Each of them grabs one of the fighting guys and separates them. Trupti immediately flings the schnapps bottle away into the bushes.

“Are they bothering you, ma’am?” one of the cops asks me.

“No.” I quietly say.

“Come along.” the cops grab the two guys and drag them away. “Be careful of such punks. And go home!” One of the cops says.

A few seconds later, it’s just Trupti and me sitting there.

“What the hell was that, Trupti?” I ask, aghast.

“That’s the power you hold. The power to make two men fight like mortal enemies. For what? A promise to take a look at two big bags of fat hanging off your chest. Imagine what more you could do. That’s the power you are letting simply rot.” Trupti says.

“What’s the point of making someone fight?” I ask.

“It’s just an example. Anyway, let’s get going. You don’t wanna be late for work again tomorrow.”

Half an hour later, I am at Trupti’s place again. I did not have time to get the keys from the day guard. So I am locked out of my apartment again.

I am sitting in what serves as the living room plus kitchen, looking at a file. Trupti is taking a shower. That’s when my cellphone rings. It’s an unknown number, but it’s 212, so has to be from New York.

“Hello.” I answer.

“Hi. Malay here.” a cheerful voice says.

“What do you want?”

“Just wanted to call up and ask you… you wanna meet for a drink?”

“No, I do not.”

“Come on! I am sure you’re just sitting at home alone with nothing to do.”

“I am not alone.”

“Who marmaris escort bayan are you with? A guy?” Malay asks, sounding a bit jealous.

“None of your business.” I say. “But no, not a guy. A girlfriend.”

“Get her along too. The more the merrier.”

“Malay, I am busy. Please don’t call me again.” I say and hang up.

A few seconds later, the phone rings again. I disconnect it. It rings again. I put the phone on silent and go to the bedroom.

“Trupti.” I call out.

“Yeah?” she answers from the shower.

“I am going to bed.” I say.

“Okay. I might step out for some action though.”

I lie down on the bed and close my eyes. And try to sleep.


I wake up on the stinky living room couch. How the hell did I get here? I scratch my head and try to remember. I have vague dream-like recollections of Trupti asking me to move to the couch, because she had a guy with her. I look at the bedroom door. It’s closed. I look at the time. Half past six in the morning. At least I won’t be late again. In fact I have a few more minutes to sleep. I close my eyes, when I hear the bedroom door open, and I hear a male voice humming a song.

I keep my eyes shut. This must be the guy Trupti was with.

“Sorry, I need to run. Have an early meeting.” a familiar voice says.

I open my eyes. It’s Malay! Standing over me, buttoning his shirt.

“What the hell, Malay?” I ask angrily. What is this asshole doing here?

“Sorry, I really need to get going.” he says and starts tying his shoelaces.

“Why the fuck are you here?” I shriek.

“Keep it down out there.” I hear Trupti sleepily yell from the bedroom. I stare at the bedroom door. Malay follows my stare, and looks at the bedroom door too.

“Oh please. Don’t tell me.” I whisper in disgust.

“Don’t tell you what?” he asks. “And why are you whispering?”

“Trupti…” I whisper.

He smiles and shakes his head in amusement.

“Trupti…true to the name. Trupti means satisfaction, right? Or contentment? I gotta say, I am really satisfied. And I’ll tell you…”

“Just shut up and get out.” I whisper, and throw a pillow at him. It hits him harmlessly on the head.


“I don’t care what the hell you did in there. But I can’t stand the sight of you. Get the fuck out.” I say, raising my voice.

“Okay, okay.” he says, looking puzzled. “I am in a hurry anyway. You’re weird.”

He starts walking towards me, but I yell,

“Don’t come near me. Just get out!”

Malay shrugs and walks out. I hear the door close behind him and Trupti walks out of the bedroom, clad in a bathrobe.

“Nice guy. Good technique in bed.” Trupti says, lighting a cigarette.

“Trupti, you…you slept with him?” I ask.

“Yeah. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, I mean…”

“Did you want to bang him first?” Trupti says, winking.

“Not at all. I hate him. How…where…when…how did you meet him anyway?”

“Oh, after I got done with my shower last night and came to the living room, I saw your phone buzzing. I thought it might be important, so I answered. It was this guy. He sounded interesting. So I met him. And you know… don’t you remember moving the couch?”

I say nothing.

“Anyway, really good in bed. Especially for an Indian. Nice thick dick too. You should try him out some time.” Trupti says and walks into the bathroom.


That afternoon, torn between feelings of disgust about Malay and loyalty towards Trupti, I take an hour off from work after pleading with Jan. I get my stuff, go to my apartment, get the guard to let me in. And then I go back to work.

Three days roll by with me immersed in my work. No word from Trupti. I start feeling guilty that I left without saying goodbye or thanking her. Maybe she is upset, and rightfully so. But the idea of her sleeping with Malay is too much for me to take. I don’t know why. I don’t like him. Don’t like him at all. But still, what she did bugs the crap out of me.

At the end of the fourth day, Friday, I am thinking of calling up Trupti myself. I reach for the phone when it starts ringing.

“Trupti?” I say happily, “I was just…”

“You were just about to call me? Yes, I am sure you were. Meet me in half an hour at Penn Station.”

Half an hour later, Trupti, dressed in a short off shoulder dress, meets me on 34th Street with a bag in her hand.

“Hi, what’s up?”

“You’re coming on a sales call with me. Kinda.” she says, and hails a cab.

“A sales call? For what?”

“You know what I sell.”

It takes me a few moments to remember.

“Dildos?” I whisper as we get into the cab.

“Yes, dildos.” Trupti says and the cab driver looks at us in surprise.

“Where to?” he asks. I can see he’s an Indian cab driver. The name on his ID on the glass partition says Piyush something.

“129th and Malcolm X” Trupti says.

“Who lives there?” I ask, but she ignores my question and reaches into her bag. She pulls out a big thick dildo. The cabbie sees it in her hand and suppresses a smile.

“Okay, so here’s the thing. Either escort marmaris you strip me naked in this cab and make me cum using this dildo, or I will do it to you.” Trupti says in a very serious tone.

“What? Not this again, Trupti.” I say, but she is already pulling at my top.

“Just give in to it. You know you need this.”

I can only hear Trupti. Can’t see anything because she’s already got my top off my torso and it’s stuck in my arms, covering my eyes.

“Trupti, stop.”

“Madam, what are you doing?” the cabbie asks in Hindi in a worried voice.

“Just keep driving and enjoy the show.” Trupti admonishes him, also in Hindi. “If you don’t like what you see, pull over and we’ll get another cab.”

The driver stays silent and keeps driving. Trupti turns her attention back to me. She has my arms pinned down. Now she reaches for my skirt and tugs at it. It has an elastic waist, not buttons or hooks, so it slides down easily, leaving me in my panties. Which she almost tears apart in rage. I fight back and pull at her dress which slips off easily. I am surprised to see she isn’t wearing any underwear.

“There. Totally naked. Now just lie back, and enjoy.” Trupti says in a commanding voice, and I whimper and do so.

The cabbie adjusts his rearview mirror, and I can see his face in it, which means he can see mine. He is watching with a hungry expression as Trupti, completely naked, starts fucking my cunt mercilessly with the dildo.

“Ohhhhh…Truptiiiii…ahhhhh…” I start shrieking at the dildo’s assault on my cunt.

“Yes, you like it, don’t you? You need this.”

“Ummmmhhhhhhhh.” I say, bucking and thrashing in response to the dildo ramming me.

The cabbie is clearly having trouble concentrating on the road and watching what is going on. Even as she keeps fucking me with the dildo, and I wail, Trupti says to the cabbie in Hindi,

“You seem to be having trouble driving.”

“No, it’s fine.” he says in a worried voice.

“How long have you been driving a cab in Manhattan?”

My wail, as I feel an orgasm approach interrupts his answer.

“Five years.”

“Do you know any secluded place where you can park the taxi for a while without anyone being around? Cops or anyone? Maybe in Central Park?”

“Yes absolutely.”

I shudder and thrash around on the seat as a massive orgasm hits me, and I shriek. My orgasm takes a minute or so to subside, and I am lying there, spent.

“Take us there.”

The cab swerves as it changes lane, and he turns into one of the transverses into Central Park. He drives for a little while more and pulls his cab onto the grass, into some bushes. I am slouching on the seat naked, breathless, with my pussy juices glistening under the dim light. The cab comes to a stop. The driver looks at us expectantly.

“Ok madam, we are here.” he sounds very excited.

Trupti pulls me closer to her as she moves towards the door and leans on it.

“Okay, come to the back seat and do whatever you want.” Trupti says.

The driver almost trips getting out of the door in a hurry.

“What the hell, Trupti? I don’t…” I start protesting, when Trupti puts her fingers on my clit and gives it a flick. Immediately, shivers run through my body.

I am staring at Trupti when the door opens and the driver jumps in, breathless. I am relieved to see his gaze fixed on Trupti, not me. I am also a bit disappointed that he didn’t even spend a second trying to decide. But I can understand why. She is so much hotter than I am.

“You are so beautiful.” he says, unbuttoning his pants. As he slides them down, I see his dick is already fully erect. Trupti is now leaning on the seat back, her legs open, her cunt in full view. I sit up and try to move away but she grabs me and holds me in place.

The driver puts one leg on the cab floor, and the other knee on the seat, just under her right thigh. He bends over and starts massaging her boobs, as his dick rubs against the entrance of her cunt. He then buries his face in her boobs and starts shaking them about.

“Like them?” Trupti asks in Hindi, running her fingers through his hair.

“Oh yes.” he responds, looking into her eyes. “I could play with them all night.”

I am worried that he might reach over and play with my boobs too. Luckily, his attention seems completely devoted to Trupti. Then I feel a little resentful that he doesn’t deem my boobs worth even a fondle.

“Just playing with them? Nothing else?” Trupti says.

He smiles and then bites her right nipple. Trupti moans and I see it getting erect. Her hands are now under his shirt. Soon she has it unbuttoned, revealing a moderately toned hairy chest. She runs her fingers over his chest and back as he keeps biting and slobbering all over her boobs. I look down and see his dick is flailing and pushing against her cunt. Trupti notices my gaze, smiles, and asks me,

“You want it?” I tentatively shake my head.

“Yes!” the driver responds and straightens up.

He puts his hands under Trupti’s knees and pushes them upward till they are resting against her shoulders. She makes a really perverted sight, with her cunt lips slightly parted by the pressure on her thighs. She looks as exposed as a woman can ever look. I am embarrassed to see her like that. But her face wears a naughty smile.