Ram stared at the laptop screen, his heart pounding. For the last six months, his cock had betrayed him. No matter how much he tried, no matter how desperately he stroked Mina’s soft breasts or licked her wet pussy, his dick remained limp and useless — a soft, pathetic little Hindu cock that refused to rise.
Mina never complained. She was a good Hindu wife — 28 years old, fair-skinned, with heavy 36D breasts, wide childbearing hips, and a plump round ass that jiggled when she walked. But Ram could see the frustration in her eyes every night when she turned away from him in bed, her thighs pressed together, her breathing heavy with unmet need.
That evening, everything changed.
Ram was standing near the window when he saw them.
Muhammad — the tall, muscular Muslim man from the next society — was wearing a white kurta that hugged his broad chest and a white kufi cap on his head. He was talking to Mina in the courtyard. Mina was smiling shyly, adjusting her pallu. Then, without warning, Muhammad’s large brown hand boldly slid down and squeezed Mina’s fat ass cheek over her saree.
Mina gasped loudly, her eyes wide with shock. She quickly pulled away and almost ran inside the house, her hips swaying fast, pallu slipping slightly to reveal the deep cleavage of her blouse.
Muhammad didn’t run. Instead, he turned his head and looked straight at Ram, who was watching everything from the window. A slow, arrogant grin spread across his bearded face — a grim, knowing smile that said, “I know your wife needs a real man.”
At that exact moment, something exploded inside Ram.
His useless cock twitched violently inside his pants. Blood rushed in, and for the first time in months, Ram became rock hard. His small Hindu dick throbbed painfully against the fabric, leaking precum like a teenager.
He couldn’t control himself.
Ram rushed inside the house, heart hammering, cock straining. He found Mina sitting on the edge of the bed, looking ashamed and sad, her head lowered, fingers nervously twisting the edge of her saree.
She looked up at him with guilty eyes. “Ram… that man… he just—”
Ram didn’t let her finish.
He didn’t care about anything anymore — not religion, not shame, not what a proper Hindu husband should do. His cock was finally hard, and the only thing he could think about was the image of Muhammad’s hand on his wife’s juicy Muslim-squeezed ass.
Without a word, Ram pulled down his pants. His hard but small dick sprang out, veins pulsing. Mina’s eyes widened in shock.
Ram stepped forward, stroking his cock furiously right in front of her face. His balls tightened. The shame, the jealousy, the sudden arousal — it was too much.
With a loud groan, Ram exploded.
Thick ropes of hot, white cum shot out of his Hindu cock and splattered directly onto Mina’s shocked face. One thick strand landed across her lips, another on her cheek, some even hitting her mangalsutra and the red bindi on her forehead. The warm semen dripped down her chin and onto her heavy breasts, staining her blouse.
Mina sat frozen, eyes wide with complete disbelief, cum dripping from her pretty face.
Ram stood there panting, his spent dick still twitching, realizing what he had just done.
For the first time in months, he had cum.
And the trigger was watching another man — a Muslim bull — touch his wife.
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