Lockdown Sex Diaries – Shobha and the Servant Part 3

60 Min Read

Shobha woke up late on Saturday morning. Chetan was buzzing around with office calls and busy. He had received an overnight email asking for a proposal to be prepared for a client who needed extended credit to deal with the pandemic. It was a significant account, and he was asked to lead the proposal for all Asia and had to report to the Asia zonal head and close it by Saturday evening. He had retreated to his study room, seemed completely immersed in the workings. He accepted the cup of coffee Shobha brought him and did not bring up the strange events of the night before as if nothing was happening. Grateful for once with his preoccupation with work, Shobha retreated to the balcony to have her morning coffee by herself and practice yoga.
Bhola was busy with Bunty, and staying in the balcony helped Shobha keep out of his way. After her bold adventures the night before, the morning brought up memories that were embarrassing. After tending to Bunty who now settled down to watch TV cartoons, Bhola came looking for Shobha. She avoided eye contact with Bhola and assigned him household chores to keep him distracted. He seemed to want to say something to her, and Shobha avoided him. It reminded her of a certain smitten college-mate, who she was sure was mustering courage to propose to her, and when she ignored him kept looking to find excuses to hang around her like a puppy.
She got an excuse to step out of the apartment complex to restock groceries from the neighborhood shop. When she got back, Chetan was still busy with his office work preparing for the evening presentation. She fixed herself a quick lunch, fed Bunty and avoided eye contact with Bhola who seemed dying to speak to her.
Shobha and Chetan had planned the previous day to binge watch their favourite Web Series and she went to the study room to remind him. He barely heard her, distracted and preoccupied with preparing a presentation, pointed to the clock and shooed her away.
Irritated by his preoccupation with work, she retreated to the living room. She fixed herself a light snack and was sitting alone at the dining table. She had changed into denim shorts that were literally short and which flattered her smooth fair legs.
It was now early evening and she had by now run out of random chores to assign to Bhola. She realized she could no longer avoid listening to whatever it was that Bhola wanted to tell her. She was grateful Chetan was still burrowed in his study.
“Bhabhi, aap se kuch baat karni hai”, (Madam, I want to speak to you”) Bhola seemed premeditated in what he had to say and appeared distinctly contented. She didn’t have to guess why – the events of last night would have been a fantasy come true for him.
A tad nervous about what he would bring up, she crossed and uncrossed her legs. He broke his eye contact and looked at her thighs for a moment longer than he normally would and then looked down at the floor, his hands crossed in front on him in a servile pose.
“Bolo Bhola”, she replied carefully in a neutral tone. (Speak up, Bhola)
“Bhabhi, appko aur saheb ko thank you bolna hai. Aapne mujhe aapke sath dinner kara me bahut khush kar diya” (Madam, I wanted to thank you and sir. By inviting me to dinner with you, both of you have made me very happy.)
Shobha relaxed and smiled back, relieved that he brought up no reference to the events that followed dinner. She had served him a special dessert in the living room, and one that he wasn’t going to forget, she thought giggling to herself.
“Koi baat nahin, Bhola. Aap bhi to bahut acche ho. Bahut mehnat karte ho. Bunty aur hamara aur saheb ka bahut khyal rakhte ho” (Dont fret, Bhola. You are a good person too and have taken good care of myself, Bunty and saheb). She bracketed her whole family to avoid any reference to any intimacy between the two of them.
“To bolo Bhola, tumhari wapas gaon jane ki train ki ticket kab ki hai?” (So Bhola, when is your train ticket booked to get back to your village?) After her sexual adventures of the night before, the day had brough a certain sobriety and Shobha reminded herself that he fellow would soon be off and away forever from their family, and their family maid Kanta-bai would return.
“Bhabhi. lockdown khulte hi. April Paanch ko.” (Madam, as soon as the lockdown ends – April 5th)
He hesitated, wanting to say something more. “Bhabhi, jane se pehle aapkp aur saheb ko gift dena chahta hoon” (Madam, before I go, I want to give you and saheb a gift.)
Shobha thought it was sweet of him, “Iski koi zaroorat nahi, Bhola.” (No need, Bhola), and then paused, curious. “Kaisa gift, Bhola?”(What gift, Bhola?)
Bhola hesitated, and then mustering courage said, “Bhabhi, mein aapko aur saheb ko ek acha sa massage dena chahta hoon” (Madam, I want to give you and saheb a nice massage)
He then paused, visibly swallowed and delivered his pièce de résistance , “Massage, and ekdum Jharkhand ishtyle mein” (Massage, and that too in Jharkhand style!)
Caught by surprise, Shobha forced an unnatural laugh, not sure whether he was just being sweet and naive or devious and pushing his luck. She concluded it was the former, and politely thanked him.
Bhola was persistent in his offer of a massage, and Shobha became thoughtful. A massage presented options she thought, and wondered how it could play out. In any case, Bhola had included Chetan too. If anything went off the script, she could always blame it on Chetan. As she thought about it, an excited tingle went through her body. Until now, she had blocked out the sight of Bhola’s naked body and his handsome erect cock, and now the mention of a massage brought back that vision. And that cute, rounded and muscled ass, she thought, is good to bite. Again, she brushed off these lascivious thoughts. The events of last night were perhaps best forgotten.
But Bhola was persistent.
“OK, mein saheb se pooch ke batati hoon”, she said, hedging. (OK, let me check with saheb and I will let you know)
Bhola walked off satisfied with her response, and visibly thrilled.
A little later, Shobha went to the study room to check in on Chetan. Chetan was busy on an office call, wearing a headset, waving his hands and yelling at someone. A junior person in his team had messed up a slide and was getting a mouthful from him.
“Bhola wants to give us both a massage!”, Shobha blurted out wanting to catch his attention quickly. Focused on the office situation, and mid-call. Chetan thought she had come to remind him about their promise to spend the evening binge watching a webseries. He partly lifted his headset from his right ear.
“When?”, he asked.
“Janu, whenever you are ready.” Shobha could hear the plaintive explanation of Chetan’s hapless office junior come through the earpiece.
“Baby, why don’t you get started. I will join you soon”.
Shobha made a confused face. “Are you sure?” , she asked.
“Baby, yes. Get started. Don’t miss it. I will join you soon”, Chetan put back his head set, his attention shifting from Shobha to the call to the laptop screen.
“You won’t mind? Are you sure. Me alone?!”
“Baby, don’t worry. You get started. Great idea for an evening. Don’t feel guilty. I will join you. Ek ghante mein”. (In one hour). Chetan pointed vaguely at the clock before turning his attention back to the call. He wanted to send her away and get back to preparing for his meeting.
Shobha made a face, a part of her brain telling her to go for it and another part of her brain advising caution about Chetan’s obviously confused approval. The adventurous side won, and she shrugged at Chetan who had stopped noticing her and marched out of her room.
Shobha checked on Bunty in the kid’s bedroom. The kid has fallen asleep, and she tucked him in grateful that the kid was an early and sound sleeper.
Bhola was waiting for her in the living room, anticipation on his face. She tried to keep her tone neutral as she announced, “Bhola, dus minute me bedroom mein aana. Pehle saheb or liye ek peg bhej dena”. (Bhola, come to the bedroom in ten minutes. Before that, give saheb a peg).
Bhola’s face lit up with joy as he caught on that saheb wouldn’t be joining her for now.
In the privacy of her bedroom, Shobha felt a tingling sensation of anticipation. Calm down, she told herself, it’s just a massage and anyway Chetan, my husband, will be joining soon. She undressed and looked at herself nude in the bathroom mirror.
She was tall at five feet seven inches, with long smooth legs and a flat stomach. She turned and admired the profile of her breasts in the mirror. 36C, firm and fully capable of waking up the dead, she decided. A deep navel, flat stomach and a curvaceous figure accentuated by a tuft of black pubic hair. She twirled and inspected her ass. A bit plump but firm. Flat stomach but a gentle roll of fat on the sides. Not bad, she mused for a 32 year old mother.
She paused thinking what to wear. What does one wear for a massage, she pondered, especially when the possibilities ahead are erotic. She felt like a bride getting ready for a first night, she thought, giggling to herself.
She pulled out a white lingerie set and tried it on. Too virginal, she decided. Black is better, she decided and pulled over a short Silk gown with a deep V neck and a spaghetti top that ended mid thigh.
A knock sounded at the door and Bhola came in with a drink on a tray. He had served a stiff one to saheb and made an extra one for his mistress. His eyes widened as he drew in the sight of Shobha sitting at the edge of the bed, wearing a gown that barely reached her thighs, long uncovered legs, her long rich hair loose over her bare shoulders and the black silk clinging snug around her bosom, magically moulded into shape. There was an awkward silence between them.
“Kahan se shuru karein?”, asked Shobha and silently bit her tongue at how she might come across. (Where shall we start?). She found it difficult to make eye contact with Bhola.
“Bhabhi, pehle shoulder aur neck se shuru karte hein. Phir regular massage pe aate hein.” (Madam, first we will start with a shoulder and neck massage. Then we will do a regular massage.)
Shobha’s heartbeat was quickening. She hoped the “regular” massage wouldn’t be all that regular. After a short discussion, they decided that Bhola would sit on the armchair by the bedside and that Shobha would sit cross legged on the floor, just in front of Bhola and with her back to him. He explained that she would be better off sitting cross-legged on the floor so that she could have her drink while he got started with the neck massage, and she had nodded approval. It bothered Shobha a wee bit that Bhola seemed a bit more confident today, and that she was the one who seemed to be following his instructions. As she sat down on the floor, she realised that seated on the armchair, he would have his thighs astride on either side of her shoulder, his groin would just behind her head and from his elevation on the chair, he would look down into her deep cleavage.
Bastard! She thought, I didn’t know you were that devious. She was now getting that delicious tingle that forewarned of sexual tension building up in that situation.
As she sat down, she checked him out. Fit, muscular fellow, but not with a body builder’s physique, Bhola was dressed in a vest style sleeveless t shirt that exposed his broad shoulders. He was dressed in shorts that ended just below the knees. Shobha, mentally was tempted at the thought of yanking off his shorts and biting that delicious buns on his ass, and giggled as she took a sit of the strong vodka drink Bhola made made for her. The alcohol hit her head inducing a slight buzz and she began to relax.
Bhola started with a gentleness that surprised her. He began massaging her scalp with his fingers gently. This spread her luxuriant shiny shoulder length hair making it more fluffy. Bhola moved closer inhaling the smell off her shampoo. She took a sip from the drink – the vodka was strong and she wondered vaguely if Bhola had intentionally made it that way – and felt his breath tingle against her hair.
She started some small talk and asked about his family. He began talking about his youth and village life. She teasingly asked him if he had a girlfriend. He laughed at the question. She blushed asking him if he were to have a girlfriend who would it be. He mentioned the daughter of a neighbor. Apparently they studied at the same high school before she got married off. She offered him a sip from her drink and he obliged. It felt strangely intimate to share a glass with a handsome masculine servant who was also massaging her.
Done with her head massage, Bhola moved smoothly to her neck and shoulder. She had nearly finished her drink by now and leaned back against the base of the armchair to give him a better angle. Bhola continued speaking and widened the arc of his massage along her bare shoulder. His fingers were thick and coarse, but his massage was gentle. She relaxed enjoying the rhythmic squeeze. of his strong hands She knew he could look down her cleavage but didn’t care. She continued teasing Bhola about his neighbour and found that she had kept in touch with him even after her marriage and had wished him on Valentine’s Day. She bantered with Bhola and egged him to not give up despite his heartthrob getting married.
The conversation was flowing easy between the two, and an eavesdroppe would have found it difficult to believe that the two were a 20-year old servant and his 32-year old mistress. That’s when Bhola tried his luck.
“Waise bhabhi, aap bhi shadi shuda hain and hamein bahut acchi lagti hain”. (By the way madam, you are also married and I like you a lot.)
Shobha was used to men complimenting her on her looks, but never had a servant praise her. She was already one peg down, Bhola’s massage had relaxed her and he had avoided anything awkward so far.
“Achha! Toh him bhi sunein ki hamare barey mein Bhola ko kya pasand hai!” , she flirted back. (Really! In that case let me know what is it about me that Bhola likes).
Bhola shifted the direction of his massage strokes. Done with rubbing along the width of her shoulders, he began running down her neck and her throat. She ignored the increasing intimacy of the massage, engrossed in the conversation and so see how far the flirting would go.
“Bhabhi, aap bahut beautiful hain. Ek dum mast! Hamare Jharkhand mein toh aapko log Bambai ki heroine samjhenge! Woh big ek dum top ki heroine! “, Bhola was unusually talkative today. far from the tongue tied Bhola she had encountered the previous evening. (Madam, you are very beautiful! And very hot! In my state of Jharkhand, people would mistake you for a Bollywood heroine. That too a top heroine!)
His massage stroke deepened and the arc of his two hands went from either side of her neck to the base of her throat just above the border of her bra cup. He was getting a little frisky but still within the no-fly zone, she decided and ignored him preferring to focus on the banter.
“Accha! Aur batao, mere bare me in log Jharkhand mein kya kahenge? ” (Really! In that case tell me, if I came to Jharkhand, what would the people there say about me?)
The next arc off his shoulder massage paused at the top of the bra cup, a trifle longer than needed and Bhola’s finger explored the embroidered border of the cup. His thick finger paused teasingly at the top of the curve of her luscious breast before retreating back to the shoulder top at the end of the arc.
“Bhabi, aapki figure ek dum mast hai. Dus me se dus. Aapki figure dekhke to murde bhi jaag jayein. Ek dum chak-a-chak mast”. (Madam, you have a terrific figure. It’s ten on ten. After seeing your figure, even the dead will rise. Awesome).
A part of her alcohol-laden brain told her she should put him in place for using a coarse slang, but her aroused self told need to see how how far this crude flattery would go.
The next arc of his massage probed even deeper into her cleavage and dipped at least an inch below the top of her bra cup. He paused and spread out the spaghetti strap of her gown and for a moment she panicked wondering if he was going to slip the top off her shoulder. She was slightly disappointed when he left the spaghetti strap perched delicately on the edge of her shoulder.
“Bhola, waise tum bhi kafi smart ho. Bambai mein koi ladki patti nahin? “, she egged him on. (Bhola, you are a smart dude too. Haven’t you yet scored with a girl in Mumbai? “)
Though Bhola was seated behind her, she could feel his chest swell with pride. His next massage stroke went a tad deeper into her cleavage and she felt his fingernail graze the top of her areola. She reflexively tried to move back on the floor where she was seated cross-legged but found her back wedged tightly between his knees and the legs of the armchair. He had leaned forward from the armchair and his face was next to her cheeks. She could feel his stubble graze against her cheeks.
“Bhabhi, kal aap ne jo mere sath kiya, bahut accha laga” (Madam, what you did yesterday, I loved it a lot), he said a bit hoarsely and continued, “Poora seva karne ka chance jaldi di jiyiyega.” (Give me a chance to offer my full service)
And then in a single synchronized stroke that caught her by suprise, Bhola brought his two broad palms downward from her shoulder in a sudden scoop, slipped the pa!ms down through the top of her bra cup and cupped her two breasts firmly. She gasped for breath suddenly, taken aback by the brazenness of his move and realizing that her breasts were firmly cupped by Bhola.
And Bhola squeezed her breasts crudely and violently.
Shobha yelped in surprise, broke free from Bhola’s lusty grasp and jumped up from her cross-legged position and turned around to face Bhola. Bhola fol!owed a second later, jumping up from his armchair. He had perhaps not anctipated her to move to disengage and cursed himself for moving too hastily. It was progressing so smoothly and his clumsy and nasty move had broken the spell.
Shobha’s mind processed her feelings rapidly. She had not anticipated that Bhola would made a sudden move to forcibly squeeze her breasts. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the sensation; that crude grab made her wet. It’s just that she didn’t want Bhola to take control of the way situation was progressing. Until now, every single move in the flirtation or sexual exhibitionism that she thrived in, was initiated and controlled by her and by no one else.
At this stage, she could have shouted at him and thrown him out of the room.She should have, she thought.
Instead, she paused, took a deep breath, watched the fear spread across his face. She then smiled to release the tension, took a couple of steps backwards and threw herself on the bed on her back, rolled over on her stomach and pushed her upper torso up. Her legs were stretched out flat on the bed, her upper body supported by her arms and facing Bhola who was now perplexed.
“Not so fast, Bhola”, she switched to English and used a commanding tone to assert her control. She wagged her finger to admonish him and feigned anger.
“Sorry Bhabhi!” , a confused and scared Bhola murmured contritely not wanting to let his bhabhi get away, a humble look now on his face.
She smiled at Bhola, secretly enjoying his discomfiture. Having re-established the power equation over Bhola, Shobha slipped back into being the seductress. The smile broadened, she tossed her head back and toyed with her long hair, twisted it between her fingers like women do when they are teasing their lovers. She then rolled over to the centre of her bed and again lay on her stomach. Her gown was anyway only thigh high, and it now rolled up even higher and Bhola was presented by the mermerizing sight of the back of her creamy thighs and her black panty covering a gorgeous ass. Flat on her stomach on the bed, she looked back at him, unhurriedly smoothened the bottom of her black gown so that it covered her panties. Her modesty now restored, she again wagged a finger at Bhola.
“Massage my legs. Meri tangon ko massage karo”.
Bhola was visibly relieved, the storm having blown over. He also realized the only way he could fulfill his mistress’s command was for himself to climb on to her bed. Which he gladly did.
She wasnt done yet. She had one more command to demonstrate her dominance in the equation.
” Take off your t-shirt. Varna bedsheet maili ho jayegi” (Take off your t-shirt. Else the bedsheet will get messed up.)
Bhola couldn’t figure out the connection. His t shirt was clean, freshly washed and ironed, but this wasnt something he wanted to complain about. He pulled his t-shirt off, glad to present his clean shaven and broad chest to his mistress. Now on his knees on his mistress’s bed in her bedroom, her husband engrossed with his work in another corner of the house, he gleefully crawled closer to her. Shobha was now on her stomach, facing away from Bhola, and rested her her chin on her forearm.
“Shuru karo!”, She commanded him. (Get started!)
Bhola happily began massaging his mistress’s legs.
Bhola started with the flat of her soles. As he pressed on her soles, he noted her tender pedicured feet. He then moved to her ankle, and then to her calf muscles and then the back of her knees. His heart began beating wildly as he moved up her thighs. This also gave him the right angle to look at her ass, barely covered by her black thigh length gown. The gown was diaphanous and he could see the panty outline and the creamy cheeks of her ass where the panty failed to cover them. By now, he had a hard on. With his mistress on her stomach lying on the bed, her head nestled on her elbows and eyes half-closed, he didn’t have to hide his erection. And when she gently moaned, he felt encouraged to advance higher on her thighs
“Mein yeh gown utaar doon?Tumhe kam pareshani hogi”, said Shobha mirroring the sinful thought in Bhola’s head. (Shall I take off this gown? You will have less trouble then.)
Bhola mumbled his approval, and Shobha raised herself partly, pulled the offending gown off her shoulder in one single smooth action and carelessly tossed it across the room. She was now in just a black panty and matching black bra, and resumed her face down position lying on her stomach. Bhola’s heart was now beating wildly, his hardon painful to bear and he squatted delicately on the back of her knees his eyes drinking in the lascivious sight.
Shobha’s black panty was embroidered and covered only two thirds of her buttocks. She had a smooth creamy back interrupted only by the thin strap of her black bra. Mustering courage, Bhola grabbed her ass cheeks in the palms of both his hands and squeezed. Shobha let out a moan and Bhola doubled his vigour. He pulled the panty upwards, right over the crack of her ass ravishing as much of her naked buttocks as he could with his ravenous eyes. He let his palms slide up over her curved waist and squeezed the gentle roll of fat on the side of her waist. He was rewarded by more moaning. Like a conquering army, his palms rolled upwards and over her bra towards her shoulder. To reach over to her shoulder, he had to lean forward, and his hardon pressed hard against her thighs. He was now practically lying on top of her, careful to support his weight on his own thighs which now straddled either side of Shobha’s naked thighs.
He then mustered more courage.
“Bhabhi, aapki bra……” , he stuttered. (Bhabhi, your bra).
She responded to his incomplete request by freeing one hand, reaching out behind her back and unhooking the bra. She let the two straps lie loosely and he happily parted them for an unfettered view to her bare back now.
Bhola was now practically lying on top of a semi-naked Shobha, who was clad only in enticing black panties and her modesty protected by an unhooked bra as she continued to lie on her chest.
It was the season of courage. Bhola now leaned forward and kissed her on the small of her back.
She moaned and squirmed but didn’t protest. An emboldened Bhola continued kissing all over her back, his own hard -on now squeezed hard against her her panty clad buttocks. Shobha had her eyes c!osed, her face resting on the bed on her chin as she felt herself go wet. Bhola’s kissing moved up over the back of her neck and just below her ears. She was particularly sensitive there and she felt that tightening in her abdomen as her breath became increasingly shallow.
Bhola then made his master move.
Easing back on his knees to gain leverage, he grabbed his mistress by her legs just below the knees and in one powerful swoop, he flipped her over on her back. Shobha gave a small shriek as the act of flipping her unexpectedly on her back dislodged the unclasped bra exposing her naked breasts to Bhola.
Bhola drunk in the sight. Shobha was blessed with medium large sized breasts. Motherhood had given them a gentle swelling but without loss of firmness. She always knew her crown jewels were her areola and nipples. Her areola were perfectly circular, light brown and in contrast to her creamy fair breasts and tipped by nipples that were a much darker share of brown. Shocked by Bhola’s sudden rough action, Shobha gained her senses and modestly covered her breasts by crossing her hands over them but not before Bhola got a good look.
Bhola forcibly brushed aside her hands as they sought to protect her modesty, pinning them down by her side Shobha struggled and squirmed, holding herself back from screaming. She managed to free her hands but Bhola swatted them away from a second attempt to cover her naked breasts. His eyes were now hungrily devouring his topless mistress. He was now astride her waist, one leg on either side, and had her pinned down on her back, topless. Shobha gave up her struggle and having failed to cover her breasts, now instead closed her eyes in an attempt at modesty.
Bhola began squeezing Shobha’s breasts. Her moaning intensified. She was now tossing her head from side to side, eyes closed, her lips wet and parted and her hands stretched out flat on the bed, her fingers tightly gripping the bedsheet. Bhola’s strong muscular hands continued to maul her breasts brutally squeezing them with both hands as if he were kneading dough.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING HERE!!!”, shouted Chetan at the top of his voice fuming from where he was standing at the door to the bedroom stunned at the spectacle on their bed involving a nearly naked wide and their servant.
Bhola sprang from his position of lying on top of his mistress as if he had received an electric shock. Shobha was more measured. A part of her brain had forewarned her that Chetan would walk in. Her womanly instinct told her she had to respond calmly.
She looked for a garment to cover her naked top. Bhola’s discarded t-shirt was lying on the bed while her own gown had been flung away to a far corner. She quickly slipped on Bhola’s t-shirt. Meanwhile Bhola was cowering with his back to the wall, clad in his shorts and cursing the gods of Jharkhand for yet another untimely interruption just when we was sure he was ascending the gates to heaven. He crossed his hands across his naked chest. Asking his mistress to return his t-shirt back seemed inappropriate. His instinct was to flee the bedroom but Chetan was glowering at the door and only exit. The French Windows to the balcony were firmly shut.
“Janu, how was your meeting? Achha Gaya?” (Went well?)
“Fuck my meeting. What the fuck is happening here?”f
” Jaaaaanu, I told you. Baby, you forgot?, Shobha switched on her Baby doll voice, and stepped closer to Chetan. She mussed his hair affectionately. “You were sooooooooo busy”, she said drawling her words, “You totally forgot what I told you na. Not your fault baby, You were working soooo hard all day”.
Chetan was confused. His eyes darted from a bare chested Bhola with his back to the wall in his bedroom, and his wife who had quickly covered her top and seemed to be mentioning something he forgot. Like many husbands, Chetan lived in morbid fear of being nagged by his wife for things he was constantly forgetting while preoccupied with work.
“Forgot what, baby? What are you doing with that fellow on top of you?” , his voice had come down several octaves. Shobha caressing his hair affectionately, speaking in her baby doll voice and mentioning something about all this being his fault – her tactics had successfully distracted him.
“Baby, come on, you forgot or what?”
“Forgot what?”
“Cmon, don’t tell me! I told you naa…..!”
“Told me what?!”
This went on a couple of times, until Shobha was sure Chetan had come off his flashpoint and shifted from an angry tone to a confused tone. Then she leaned across and kissed Chetan lightly on his lips, and whispered conspiratorially in his ears, “Bhola wanted to give both of us a couple massage. You were getting delayed and I asked him to get started with me while you joined us”.
Her eyes narrowed, and she cocked her head sideways in theatrical style, “Remember I came to your study to call you? Remember? You were soooo busy and you asked me to get started? Forgot, no?! You shouldn’t work so hard, baby! “, she cooed to him. And pecked him on his cheeks for good measure.
Chetan found himself on the defensive. His foggy mind did remind him that earlier in the evening Shobha had asked him about something, and that he had asked her to get started. He refocused back on the fly in the ointment.
“But why were you topless? And what was he doing on our bed?”
” Jaanu, how else does one get a massage? You don’t expect me to wear a sari, do you? C’mon!”, Shobha switched to a tone that seemed to suggest that getting topless for a massage was the most obvious thing on earth, and that Chetan was silly to even to ask that question. Chetan didn’t have a good track record of winning the argument when she switched on that tone. And logic never counted for much in that unequal crossfire.
“Aur tum kya kar rahe the?”, (And what were you doing?) realizing he was losing his tempo, Chetan turned on Bhola, who he figured was the one in the trio on a weaker wicket than him. Bhola had been watching the exchange expecting any moment to be clobbered but even his simple brain told him that his bhabhi had bested saheb, and had managed to defuse the situation. Inspired by his bhabhi’s spirited comeback, the lad from Jharkhand also went on the offensive.
“Aur Kya karte, saheb? Itni der se aapka intezaar kiya. Lekin aap aye hi nahin”, inspired by his mistress, he kept a belligerent tone and made it seem as if it was all Chetan’s fault for keeping them waiting, and added for good measure now switching to a different servile tone suggesting he was just following orders, “Bhabhi ne bola ki saheb kaam mein busy hain. Ab shuru karo. Bhabhi ki baat ka palan kaise na karen. Aap hi batayiye”, he ended his voice turning a bit shrill. (What else could I have done? We waited so long for you. But you never came! Then madam said let’s get started. How could I refuse her? You tell me!)
Chetan calmed down at this twin attack on him suggesting he was the one at fault.
Ground regained, Shobha knew what to do next to consolidate.
“Chalo, never mind now, it’s all sorted”, she kissed Chetan, and shooed Bhola silently to exit the room. “Bhola, saheb ke liye ek accha sa peg bana ke lana. Panch minute mein”. (Bhola, make a strong peg for saheb. In five minutes).
Bhola slunk past Chetan and exited the room, his brain telling him the good news that he was expected to return with a drink. Simple correlation from last few evenings told him that good things happened to him whenever saheb and bhabhi had a drink in the evening.
He hoped the evening’s entertainment was not yet over.
Perhaps the players were just having a drinks break.
“Janu, I want to have a threesome!”
Shobha hopped up and down a couple of times on her toes like an excited school girl, flung her arms around a bemused Chetan and pecked him on his lips as soon as Bhola was out of earshot.
“Are you fucking crazy!”, Chetan tried to wrest free of her but Shobha tightened her arms around him pushing her breasts against his chest.
“I want my birthday gift in advance”, Shobha declared hopping up and down playing the excited schoolgirl and nuzzled Chetan on his cheeks. Her birthday was three months away. The last time she said the same lines, she ended up with a diamond necklace and Chetan ended lighter by ten lakhs. And had to buy a separate birthday gift in any case for the birthday.
“Baby, not with him! He is a servant! ”
“Aah, so you would be ok if it were someone else!”, she stepped back, put her hands on her hips and have him a mock stern look. She looked hot. She had Bhola’s vest T-shirt on – though Chetan didn’t realise it – and which just covered her panties and clung to her breasts. The vest style T-shirt exposed her cleavage and the side side revealed the side of her shapely breasts.
“Baby, you can’t be serious. What’s got into you? It’s so risky! ”
“That’s the whole beauty, baby. He is a gawaar (village bumpkin). Totally dumbo! And the best part is that his ticket is booked in two weeks. ”
“What if he speaks to someone about us?”
“Baby, we discussed this! Who would believe him?”. Shobha turns on her mock scolding tone. She was glad that Chetan hadn’t blown a fuse – he had just called out some reasons. She had hers ready as a counter response. She knew she had a good track record with her logic against his once she had made up her mind. Shobha went back to embracing Chetan and nuzzled against Chetan’s cheeks and gently bit his ears.
“And he’s so hot”, she whispered softly in his ears, “And he is crazy about me. Totally!”.
A part of Chetan’s brain wondered who was crazy about whom.
She then grabbed his hands and pulled them to her breasts under the t shirt she was wearing. She let him grab her breasts. He squeezed them instinctively.
“Did you see the way he was giving them a massage?” , she teased him again whispering softly into his ear and nibbling at the earlobe. She have him a wet kiss. He squeezed harder. Her nipple was erect and he rolled it between his thumb and forefinger.
“Bhola was squeezing my boobs too. He likes them”, she murmured as he squeezed harder in reflex response. Slowly and deliberately, her hands slipped down and grabbed his crotch.
“Maybe next time you can watch him squeeze my boobs”, she whispered. Chetan’s cock was getting hard and he was getting excited at the talk about Bhola squeezing his wife’s boobs. Shobha slipped her hands under the elastic of his track pants and grabbed his hard, naked and erect cock. It was warm and semi-erect and she cupped it gentling caressing the length but not yet squeezing it.
“And I guess you like watching him suck your wife’s boobs, no? Or maybe you could watch him while I let you suck my boobs”. Chetan’s cock was becoming bigger as Shobha continued her hand job.
“And that’s why you did me three times in the last one week Can you even remember the last time we did it three times in a week?”, she continued breathlessly whispering in his ear her tone seeking to flatter his manly ego.
Chetan had his eyes closed and while his right hand continued to squeeze Shobha’s breasts, his left hand now slipped under her panties. His fingers teased apart the lips of her pussy. She was wet. Chetan’s middle finger probed deeper. It was now Shobha’s turn to moan.
“Maybe next time, you can let him watch while you fuck me. Maybe after that I can let you watch when he fucks me.”.
Shobha rarely used the ‘f’ word and Chetan was hot with passion. Shobha let go of his cock, now fully erect, slipped her hand lower, cupped his balls lightly and with a long fingernail she gently scratched Chetan’s delicate skin below the scrotum. She was rewarded when Chetan grunted in thrill. She had practised the same move with Bhola last night and knew she should not go all the way. She retreated and grabbed his cock again this time closing her palm lengthwise along the shaft.
And delivered her punch line with a hoarse whisper while simultaneously squeezing and un-squeezing the cock and pulling it along its length as if trying to extend the shaft’s length.
“Bhola has a big cock too. I know it because i felt it in my hands. He let me squeeze his cock. Just like this” , and she was satisfied when almost in response to her words Chetan’s cock throbbed painfully. Having learnt from her interlude with Bhola last night, she knew she had to bring him to the edge but not push beyond for release. She squeezed Chetan’s cock one last time, and felt the moistness of precum.
Chetan moaned, and his cock throbbed painfully hard in response to Shobha’s squeeze.
Shobha knew then she had won her argument.
She let go of Chetan’s cock, pulled her hand out of his track pants and stepped back two paces. She looked down at his erect cock at full mast as the elastic waistband of the tracking snapped closed just under his balls, making him look like a schoolboy caught with his pants down. She now looked at him in the eye.
“Now listen to me carefully, baby, and do exactly as I tell you”, she said her firm tone leaving either of them in no doubt who had held whose balls a short while back.
When Bhola walked in nervously into the bedroom a few minutes later with a tray containing two glasses – whisky and soda for saheb and vodka and lemon juice for mem saheb – he found the mem saheb in a distinctly better mood than the saheb. Shobha was sprawled out on the bed, one hand crossed over her forehead, still wearing Bhola’s t-shirt barely covering her panties, and her long naked legs crossed at the ankles. She smiled warmly at Bhola, having noticed that he had changed into a different t-shirt. Bhola noted her black bra was still lying in a corner of the bedroom where she had tossed it.
Which meant bhabhi was braless.
He confirmed it with a quick peek at her t-shirt which seemed moulded to her breasts with erect nipples poking through. When he got that t-shirt back, Bhola decided he wasn’t going to ever wash it. Chetan was next to Shobha on the bed, half lying, and looking a bit sullen.
Shobha took the whiskey glass and offered it to Chetan who took a few large gulps a bit too quickly. She took her own vodka glass, half got up from the bed, made room on the corner next to her and asked Bhola to sit there next to her. Bhola sat next to her cautiously, but unable to take his eyes off her bare legs. She took a sip from her glass, made a face to say that he had made it too strong and offered Bhola a sip. Bhola took a sip from her glass, feeling both excited and nervous. He found the drink bitter but was aroused by the intimacy of sharing Shobha’s glass for the second time that evening. From the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Chetan glare at him before taking another full gulp from his own glass, rapidly draining its contents.
Shobha sensed Chetan’s hostility towards Bhola and leaned across and kissed Chetan on the mouth for a long wet kiss. Bhola watched his mistress’s tongue snake into saheb’a mouth. Chetan reaches out and grabbed Shobha’s breast through her vest and was rewarded by a moan.
Shobha pushed away Chetan and switched attention to her other admirer.
“Accha Bhola, toh batao saheb ko apni Chanda girlfriend ke bara mein” (Ok Bhola, tell saheb about your Chanda girlfriend). Bhola blushed and Shobha breathlessly filled in a half-interested Chetan about Bhola’s crush from Jharkhand.
“Theekh hai Bhola, ek game khelte hain. Ab samjho ki main Chanda hoon. Aur saheb mere gharwale hain. Saheb ke saamne mujhe patao. Aur woh bhi Jharkhand style mein”. (OK Bhola, lets play a game now. Let’s imagine I am Chanda. Now woo me in front of my husband. And do it in Jharkhand style). She was now warming up and had parted her legs and was rocking her knees gently back and forth.
Bhola blushed but not enough to notice that with every rock of her knees, he could see a peek of her black panty beneath the T-shirt. His T-shirt, he reminded himself.
“OK Bhola, C’mon! Patao mujhe”. And she offered a drink to Bhola from her own glass and egged him on. (And C’mon Bhola. Come and woo me!)
Bhola took a long gulp. The strong vodka gave him a woozy feeling in his head. And with it came courage and inspiration to meet Shobha bhabhi’s challenge.
“Chanda, mujhe mera dil nahin lota sakti toh kam se kam mera T-shirt to lota do! Tumhara dil samajh ke apne dil se laga ke sada rakhoonga!” (Chanda, if you can’t return my heart, at least return my T-shirt. I will consider it your heart and keep it next to mine! For ever!)
Chetan was just then taking a sip of his drink and nearly choked at this cheesy line. Shobha burst into loud and impressed laughter. She hadnt expected Bhola to be this articulate. Bhola’s heart swelled with pride and he didn’t fail to notice the jiggle of her breasts as she laughed.
“Haven’t heard anything so sweet said to me since I was in college!”, she chirped then turned to Chetan, “Janu, you should also learn a line or two from Bhola. Always in your laptop otherwise…” Chetan swallowed his pride. As a VP in his MNC bank, he had just finished a proposal to recast a 200 million dollar debt for a client with pan Asia operations and probably helped prevent bankruptcy. And here was his wife asking him to get inspired in wooing her with what seemed B grade film dialogue spouted by his servant. He couldn’t however deny this was getting interesting and he was getting a boner.
“Ok, Bhola, tumhe apna t-shirt chahiye to mere se pillow fight mein jeet ke dikhao! “. (Ok Bhola, if you want your tshirt then beat me in a pillow fight and win it!). Shobha was in a bubbly mood, and Chetan was curious where this would land. Bhola didn’t know what a pillow fight was and when Shobha explained, the chance of getting into physical playful scuffle with this luscious woman seemed like a wet dream.
Armed with a pillow each, both players landed playful punches as they warmed up. Shobha was in a particularly giggly mood, as she pranced around the bedroom in just her panty and clinging t-shirt, dodging expertly aimed blows. The pillow blows seemed aimed at her boobs and ass but she didn’t mind. Chetan seemed amused and followed the two dueling gladiators feint and cheered. Bhola began to relax when he realised saheb was enjoying it as much as him, and was particularly delighted when Bhola landed a few choice blows on her T-shirt covered breasts. Bhola paused trying to adjust his shorts to conceal an obvious hard on but when Shobha took advantage of his distraction to rain a few choice blows on him, decided to throw caution to the winds and go for it Jharkhand style.
Chucking his pillow aside, he made a grab for Shobha’s boobs.
Shobha anticipated him, and nimbly stepped back but stumbled into Chetan’s arms who put his arms around her waist from behind to prevent her from losing her balance. Seeing his opponent pinned against Chetan, Bhola dropped his pillow and shamelessly grabbed her boobs through the t shirt.
And squeezed them hard in front of her husband.
Credit : RaviShikha

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