Hot mom fucks a stranger

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Simple Housewife

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Indian Wife is a Diwali Night Treat

It was about 9 pm on a Saturday night when Yashodhara and I drove up to a large house on the outskirts of the Midwestern town we lived in. The house was decked up in lights with several Chinese lanterns hanging from it. There was a big group of children to one side of the house, setting off fireworks. Watching them, sat half a dozen or so Indian women decked up in expensive looking silk saris and jewelry. I parked the car in between two others, and Yashodhara and I, taking a couple of plastic bags, walked to the front door.

"Happy Diwali!" a middle aged lady who was standing by the door greeted us.

"Happy Diwali to you too!" Yashodhara and I replied. And immediately, the air was filled with sounds of bursting fire crackers. When the sound subsided half a minute later, the lady said.

"Feels just like Diwali back home in India doesn't it, with this cacophony?"

"Sure does! I am surprised the neighbors haven't complained to the cops." I said.

"I was wondering about it too, but apparently, everyone who lives within an earshot is Indian and is at the party already."

"Is this your house?"

"No. In fact I am not even sure whose house this is. Anyway, go on in and mingle. It's a very informal party. I have to stay here and keep an eye on my kids."