The first hint I get that Eric Hass, my German boss, wants to screw my wife, Tania, is at the farewell party for Mrs. Hass. After only a year in India and proving his worth he has received orders to get back to the parent Company in Munich in five weeks time. His wife, however, was flying out shortly after the party. We all have had quite a bit to drink when he gets me alone and tells me that he is thinking of recommending me to take over from him. I start to thank him profusely but he holds up his hand for me to hold on. A major consideration, he says, in deciding the matter, will be how well Tania would fit in as the head honcho's wife. Looking me in the eye, he slips it to me - How far you go Buddy depends on how far she will go. The required equation here is very clear.
Tania and I had been married five years with no kids as we found out too late that we had opposing blood groups. As a precaution she had her tubes tied. I had long since lost interest in her and we had not made it together for almost two years. I did not miss it since I was heavily into an affair with my eighteen years old secretary - a real nymph. So Eric's blatant interest in Tania really was not upsetting, especially as I saw that at the end of it there was a prize.
Mind you, this had nothing to do with Tania's looks. In that respect she was a head turner and at 26 was in her prime. Her mother was Nepalese and she had inherited a satin smooth hairless body with an exquisite milky complexion. Her green cat eyes and bee-stung lips gave her a sultry look, but her delicious body was what I think really made men salivate - compact up-thrusting breasts with hard pointy nubs, slim waist and flaring hips supporting solid protruding buttocks. In fact it was her bulging rear that caught Eric's attention first, as he told me later.
Over the next few days in office he works himself into a froth over her. He calls me to his room at all hours to discuss in lurid and explicit detail his plot for her seduction. At these sessions I sit before him looking suitably meek - that seems to appeal to him. He asks me point blank one day if I have buggered Tania and when I shake my head 'no', he is ecstatic. A virgin ass and what a piece at that - he cannot believe I have never butt-fucked her! He has an oversized penis, he tells me, so deflowering her anus would be a treat.
I had to witness - he was an exhibitionist and I, as it turned out, a latent voyeur! We worked out how to brainwash Tania into 'cooperating' to help my cause. Tania, I should tell you, is one of those submissive types brought up in the traditional way to follow all and every wish of her 'pathni'. When I tell her about the forthcoming 'interview' with Eric and the importance of it, she turns nervous - what if she fails to impress? I assure her that all she needs to do is be nice to him, very very nice. My only doubt is how far she would 'go' with this - but I need not have worried. Her 'cooperation' exceeded all expectations.
After a few days, when his wife has left, Eric invites us over. Tania wears a sari and after some persuasion, leaves her bra off - her upright breasts never need them anyway. I explain that she has to atleast look alluring to make the initial impression. When we arrive, Eric opens the door to welcome us. He is in a T-shirt and shorts. Why so formal - take off your Jacket and tie and relax, he tells me. Turning to Tania he says - I have just thing for you. He goes into the bedroom and returns with a skirt made of some thin silky material - it seems altogether too small for her.
It stretches - go on put it on, he urges. After a small hesitation she heads for the bedroom to change. In a few minutes she peeks out and beckons me franticly. When I enter the bedroom, she whispers desperately, I have no bra or panties - and look how everything sticks out! She has somehow squeezed into the dress that seems painted on her. It was not a mini but a mini micro - two spaghetti straps hold it up but the hem is dangerously close to her crotch. Her breasts jut out boldly and their sharp teats are clearly outlined by the thin silky material.
More provocative is the bulge of her prominent pubis and the faint indentations of the light curls covering it, plainly revealing to the world that she is absolutely naked underneath. I walk around her. The dress exposes rather than hides the voluptuous swells of her backside, the tight cloth just failing to cover the lower creases of her rear. She looks, I have to admit, fit to get laid. Stop being a prude, I tell her. Not giving her a chance to argue I take her by the shoulder and firmly lead her into the living room.
