My Struggles with Trupti Ch. 04

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Big Tits

I wake up, sweating and with a rapid heartbeat, as if I have just been working out. It’s dark in my bedroom. The radio clock says 3:41 AM. I look around. No one. And then I hear noises. Muffled noises of skin slapping, and grunts and moans, male and female. Coming from the living room I think. As I get off the bed, I notice I am still naked. I wrap a robe around myself and tiptoe to the bedroom door. Open it slightly and peek out. The noises get louder.

The living room is mostly dark. But some street light is streaming in through the curtains. Silhouetted against that light is the naked body of Trupti, on top of someone on the fold-out couch, riding him hard, as her hair flies around.


Trupti is screaming loud enough for the whole building to hear. And she is bouncing up and down like she is possessed. From where I am standing, I can only make out two sturdy male legs stretching out from under her, and two palms on her ass. I can’t make out who the man is, but my guess is the pizza delivery guy regretted his decision and came back. Watching Trupti get fucked so thoroughly turns me on and for a moment I consider going out there and joining in. But only for a moment. I close my eyes and return to bed. I try to go to sleep, but the loud noises make it difficult. It’s a long time before I am finally in dreamland again.

I wake up a few hours later. My body aches. My head aches. It is a little past 9 AM. I am still naked under my robe. I get up, slip on underwear, sweat pants, and a t-shirt, and replay the previous night’s events in my head. I am ready to give Trupti a piece of my mind and kick her out of my life. She stripped me naked in front of a cabbie, almost had me seen naked by the pizza delivery guy, smoked illegal drugs in my apartment and gave me a second-hand high, and merrily fucked a guy on my beloved pottery pen couch-bed while I slept. I do not need her destructive influence in my life anymore.

I walk out into the living room, and am aghast to see it is a mess. The place mats from the dining table are scattered around the floor, one chair is knocked over, and I notice some crusty dried stuff on my usually clean table. Yuck! I don’t even want to know what that was, although I have a sordid guess. There are a couple of pillows strewn around. There are a couple of dildos, velvet handcuffs and a whip on a chair. Pizza crusts and pieces of cookies are scattered all over the floor. But the biggest shock is when I walk to the couch bed. Not only is it open and a complete mess with dirty crumpled sheets, but there is someone sleeping on it. Completely naked on their stomach, full round butt cheeks on display. Face on its side visible with drool spilling out from the lips. And it isn’t Trupti.

It is Malay!

I snap! This is the last thing I need. This guy was the one in my apartment, on my couch, fucking the brains out of the woman who is messing up my life? I really do not need this.

“Hey you!” I shake him by his shoulder.

He just mumbles something and rolls over on his back. It takes me a couple of seconds to pull my eyes away from his dick. Even in a limp state, its obviously generous proportions are evident. Cradled on top of his balls, it looks like it is resting confidently.

“WAKE UP!!” I yell and shake him again, taking care to avert my eyes from his crotch.

“Hmpff?” he opens his eyes halfway. “Whuh…what time is it?”

“It is time…” I say in a seething calm voice, “for you to get the FUCK out of my apartment! NOW!”

Malay sits up, rubbing his eyes. My eyes drift to his impressive dick again.

“And cover up your privates, you fucking pervert!”

“Pervert? What are you…” he says, wrapping a sheet around his waist and getting up off the bed.

“Shut up! I don’t want to hear anything!” I flash him an angry look and take a couple of steps towards the phone “If you’re not out of my apartment in one minute, I am calling 911!”

“Okay okay! Jesus! Relax!” he says, holding the sheet around his waist and advances towards me.

“DON”T YOU DARE TOUCH ME!” I scream, reaching out and picking up the first thing my hand can grab to use as a weapon. It turns out to be the remote control.

“What the fuck would I want to touch you for, you crazy bitch?” Malay glares back at me. That question stabs at my heart a little as somewhere inside me a voice says, that’s right, he was here to be with Trupti, not you. He may have shown some interest in you in the past, but you can’t compete with someone like Trupti.

Malay points behind me.

“You can stop brandishing remote control weapons. I was marmaris escort just coming to get my clothes which are near the door, not coming to touch you or anything.”

I see that he is right. His clothes are bunched up there close to the door. I guess Trupti jumped him as soon as he walked in. A glimpse of that image flashes through my head, as if I had actually been there. I fight it off, and walk away from where he is. I turn away from him as he starts dressing.

“I wouldn’t touch you with a barge pole after this.” I hear him mutter as he pulls on his pants.

“Just get dressed and leave.” I say wearily.

“You know, when I saw you at all those events around the country, I thought sure, she seems weird. But then I am weird too. And you seemed cute under your frumpy matronly exterior. But now…”

“Stop babbling and leave.” I yell.

“Listen, this whole Trupti thing seemed like a lot of kinky fun initially. But now it’s getting really…”

“I will deal with the Trupti thing on my own, thank you. Will you just shut up and get out?”

“I am about to.” he is kneeling down, tying his shoelaces.

“And don’t come back!”

He lets out a hollow laugh.

“As if I’m masochistic enough to come back here! That couch mattress is a lumpy ordeal.” he says as he opens the door and steps out.

I walk to the door, feeling angrier. Say what you will about me, but don’t you dare insult my furniture!

“Yeah? Well, next time you want a roll in the hay, go to that ghastly basement shithole, you asshole!”

He is walking away, giving me the finger. I slam the door shut.

I start cleaning up the mess in the living room when the bathroom door opens.

“What was all that ruckus?” Trupti walks out, wearing a robe and brushing her hair.

“YOU!!” I glare at her and gesture to the mess in the living room “What the fuck is all this?”

“Hehe.” she laughs. “We got a little too rowdy last night. Sorry about that. I was going to clean it before you woke up.”

“Don’t bother. Just get dressed and go home. I need a long break from you.”

Trupti ignores me and sits on a chair next to the dining table. She smiles as she notices the dried gook on the table that could only have come from her loins or his loins. Or both.

“So you sent the talented Mr. Singhal packing in rather forceful terms I see. Thanks. I was getting sick of him.”

“How do I send you packing?”

“Don’t get me wrong. He is a nice guy. Great in bed. Ready to try anything. And as you must have noticed, quite well hung. He just…I don’t know…”

“I don’t care. Go away!”

I say this as rudely as I can but it just bounces off Trupti’s assured exterior.

“He was getting very lovey-dovey after our fifth romp of the night. Talking about feelings and sentiments and all that crap.”

“Fifth?” I am amazed. The most I have ever had in one night is two times. But I stay on point. “Doesn’t matter. You need to go.”

“He seems your type. Next time, you should ride him. And have him mount you. And go down on you. And…” she giggles again, “you’ll find out.”

She gets up and disappears in the bedroom. Then she comes out wearing a pair of my jeans and a t-shirt.

“Borrowing your clothes. I’ll return them later. The little number I wore last night…” she points at what look like a couple of rags tucked between the couch cushions “..well, it didn’t survive our experiments.”

Then, without a word of farewell or goodbye, Trupti steps out of the door and leaves. Good riddance, I think to myself and lock the door behind her.

I keep looking at the door all day, expecting Trupti to return any moment. But she doesn’t, not all day nor the next. The next week starts and I immerse myself in my work. I do my best to let work distract me from all the debauched weirdness that the crazy woman had recently put me through. Compared to Trupti’s psychotic behavior, even Jan seems normal for a while. But only for a while.

“I was going over your reimbursement request.” she strides up to my desk one day looking upset.

“Yes, Jan?”

“That Baltimore trip…why is there an Amtrak charge there?”

This confuses me for a bit. I had planned to just leave that part out and pay for it myself. How had that gotten in there? For a moment, I think about saying, it was a mistake. But then I feel anger rising up my ears. Starlight had given us the order. The deal is worth millions. Why is my boss bitching about a couple of hundred dollars?

“Jan, I took the bus on the way back. But going there, I took a train.”

“I explicitly told you to take a bus, young lady.” she says in that stern school marmaris escort bayan principal-like voice.

“Fine, I will pay for it myself. I will pay for the whole fucking trip myself, even the bus.” I say angrily.

Jan is silent as she glares at me.

“Are you giving me attitude?”

I meet her angry gaze. But then look away.

“Sorry, Jan”

“You think this is about just a couple of hundred dollars? Here, I’ll show you what that means to me.” she takes out her purse and fishes out a bunch of $20 bills. And then she rips them into little pieces. “That’s what it means to me!”

“Jan!” I have no idea what to say. This is all so bizarre.

“You stupid cow…you have no idea what you have done!” she yells as a few people stare at us. “There is a big prize for the team that has the best return on investment. It’s a big bonus for all of us. It was between my team and Jerry’s team, by a tiny margin. Even with the Starlight account, what matters is the cost. And it turned out to be really razor thin. Second or third decimal type calculation.”

“What are you saying?”

“Your reimbursement claim is already in the system. You can’t take it back. We have lost by the smallest margin. If our costs had been lower by just two hundred bucks, we would have been on top. And all of us gotten big bonuses!”

“Why didn’t you tell me the reason in the first place?” I vehemently ask.

“Who the fuck do you think you are that I owe you an explanation, you fucking dot…” her voice trails away as she looks around at all the people, or witnesses watching, as she is on the verge of using a slur that could get her fired. She takes a deep breath and walks away.

Three days later, there is a party in the office to celebrate the great quarter that we had. And prizes are given away to the top teams. Jan’s team that I was part of comes second, by the tiniest margin possible. We still get a bonus, but the winners get a bigger one. And the difference in the bonuses is substantial. Jan had let it be known to everyone else in the small team that my decision to take an Amtrak was what cost us the first place.

It is a horrible party to be at. No one is talking to me, not even my own team. All the senior executives are there, as are many top clients, and all employees with their families. Everyone is mingling and socializing, having a good time. But I feel like an outsider in all that. I just park myself in a corner with a glass of diet coke and my tablet, pretending to work, even as I feel gutted. But I would soldier on, as I always did. It can’t get any worse.

And then it gets worse. Trupti walks in, looking cheerful and radiant as always.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I sprint up to her and whisper, trying to pull her to the side.

“Shhh.” she shakes me off and jumps into a big group of employees and family members talking about something or the other. Soon she is the center of attention.

Why is she here? How did she even know about this event? I ponder the questions as I watch her circulate through the room, making pleasant small talk with all the senior executives and managers, even flirting with a few. I just stand in the corner and sulk. Forget it, I tell myself. I will just ignore her. And ignore her I did as I focused on my work, without really focusing. Just staring at a blank screen.

After a while, people started getting more and more drunk. The party started getting louder and friendlier. My head starts throbbing. I was still going through a phase of almost no sleep. I decide to just leave and go home. As I walk out, I see Trupti was in a dark corner, talking flirtatiously with an older white man who looks vaguely familiar. As she throws her head back in a fake laugh, I look into her eyes. She doesn’t acknowledge my gaze. I walk away.


A couple of days after, late afternoon. I am busy crunching some numbers for a new contract when I hear a cellphone ring in my purse. That surprises me. My cellphone is sitting on the desk. I reach into my purse and see it’s Trupti’s phone. I have no idea how it ended up in my purse. I answer it.

“Hello, is this Trupti Darshan?” a woman’s voice says.

“No. She left her phone with me.”

“Can you get in touch with her soon?”

“No. I have no idea where she is.” I didn’t.

“Hmm… well, she was put down as emergency contact for one of our patients. A Mr. Singhal.”

“What happened to Malay?” I ask, panic sweeping over me.

“It’s alright, ma’am. Nothing to worry about. He came in for dental surgery. The anesthesia is taking a longer time wearing off than we thought.”

“Is he fine?”

“Yes, just very escort marmaris drowsy and not in a position to go home by himself. He listed this number and Trupti Darshan for us to call in case he needed help getting home.”

“As I said, I don’t know where she is.”

“It sounds like you know him. Could you take him home?”

“I am sorry, I am at work.”

“Ma’am, we need to release him soon. We’re about to close for the day. If we can’t find someone to take him home, we will have to send him to the closest emergency room.”

I look at the work piled up in front of me. It is important. But leaving Malay incoherent and half-unconscious in an ER sounds like a mean thing to do, no matter what he and Trupti did.

“Okay, I’ll come right over. What’s the address?”

Half an hour later, a male nurse is helping me get the semi-conscious Malay into a cab. I have his address from the release form. It’s just a few blocks from where I live. I decide to take him to his place, put him in bed and head back to work. The nurse hands me the backpack Malay brought with him, and we get going.

“Keys, Malay, I need your keys.” Ten minutes later, the cabbie, an elderly black guy, is helping me hold up Malay in front of his building, an elegant brownstone in Chelsea.

“Blfprksjj” Malay drools and weakly points at the backpack in my hand. I fish around inside its front pocket and find a key ring. A small brass key gets us into the building. Another key gets us into his 3rd floor apartment.

I give the cabbie a very generous tip after he puts Malay in the bed.

“Are you feeling okay, Malay?” I ask, standing over the drooling handsome guy.

“Mlksfhrrrr.” he weakly says and holds up his hand.

I stretch out my hand and he grips it tightly, pulling me onto the bed with him.

“Thnkk ywww.” he says, taking me in an embrace.

“You’re welcome, Malay. Listen…I hope you are feeling okay because I need to get back to…Malay! What are you doing?”

He has grabbed me, wrapped his legs around me as well, and rolled me over on the bed. His body is on top of me.

“Orhhh Trpttteee…urlurvyrrr…” he drools.

“Malay, get a hold of yourself. I am not Trupti.” I say, trying to fight him off.

It’s a half-hearted struggle, to be honest. Somehow, this handsome charming guy’s embrace feels so right, so exactly what I want. But I still can’t ignore the fact that he seems to think I am Trupti.

“Umnmmmrr Trptteee…brdhe stlll urbhsu kdkuhu…”

He mumbles and jerks his crotch against mine. I have no idea what he said. But I feel his erection. It is substantial. And he smells and feels so good. I don’t resist as he, in his drugged stupor, hitches my skirt up and pulls down my panties.

“What are you doing?” I breathlessly say, but do nothing to stop him.

“Urhmmm smmm hrnnny rtt nrwww…urhmmmm…urluvyrrr…”

He keeps mumbling in that way as he pulls me closer and enters me. I close my eyes and feel a surge of satisfaction run through my being. All those guys Trupti tried to get me to do some hanky panky with. This guy, the one I had seen all over the country, being as cynical as I was, is the one I finally give myself to.

The sex is really good. I am not sure if it is because Malay is drugged or whatever. But it is good. I hug him tightly and we kiss as he first fucks me sideways. His drool doesn’t bother me. I then get on top and gently ride him. Trupti was right. He is thick and well endowed. But more than that, he has an instinctive ability to read my rhythms. Even drugged up, he can match my needs.

He cums inside me as we hug tightly. Then he kisses me while saying,

“Thssss wrs bsrst urf ull…brst…frrggt trpttee”

“Did you just say…forget Trupti?”

“Umhmm…” He nods, rolls over, and passes out.

I lay naked in his bed, struggling with what had just happened. I had just slept with Malay. Yes, I knew him first, but Trupti was the one who had been with him first. Yes, I was angry with her, but she was still my friend. Had I betrayed her? Was I a bad person?

And then right on cue, I heard footsteps approach the bedroom. I immediately pulled the sheets closer to my neck to cover my nakedness.

“Hehe, so you finally did it, huh?”

It was Trupti, standing with her arm against the wall, dressed in a tiny skirt and a lingerie top.

“Trupti!” I sat up. “I am so sorry! It just happened!”

“Is he unconscious?” she stepped into the room.

I checked on Malay.

“I think so. He was at the…”

“I know where he was.” she said. “You picked him up and fucked him, right?”

“Please Trupti, that’s not how it happened.”

“Relax, honey.” she shrugged. “I am happy for you two.”

And then she turned around and started walking away. I got up and ran behind her.

“Wait Trupti, let me explain!”

But she was already out the door.

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