Shobha put Bunty to sleep early. Thank god, the two-year old was an early sleeper and she didn’t have the problems most mother’s with a kid his age had during the lockdown about keeping the kids occupied.
Chetan and she almost always went out on Friday evening’s for a dinner at five-star hotel or a happening restaurant that she picked. Of course, it was she who always made these choices.
The lockdown wasn’t going to change anything about Friday evening’s being special.
Shobha was a good cook, and quickly hustled up spaghetti and pasta – Chetan’s favorite, and something he always enjoyed with red wine. She hoped Bhola would like it too. It probably didn’t matter too much, she decided. She felt a shiver of anticipation at the experience of sharing dinner at the table with Bhola.
The dinner ready, she took a long leisurely shower and put on another of her evening dresses. She fanned perfume on her neck, and on her underarms. She brushed her thick wavy shoulder length hair until it shone. And applied just a cash of lipstick. She admired herself in the mirror. The lockdown wasn’t going to change anything about the way she dressed up on Friday night!
Chetan finally finished his last call before Friday evening, and massaged his neck. His head, neck and shoulders hurt from taking hours of calls almost continuously. He patted his growing paunch and wished he could be more fit. Maybe like Bhola. The fellow had strong shoulders and a flat stomach. The thought of Bhola reminded him about his wife’s plan to have dinner with their servant. That jolted him back to reality and made him anxious about what lay ahead in the evening. The concept of having dinner with their servant was inconceivable, but what the heck, in lockdown anything goes. Thankfully nobody would know what went on within the four walls of their house. Thank god for the lockdown!
He quickly came out of his study, changed to a set of clothes suitable for a Friday evening. Shobha had specifically told him to dress well, and he didn’t want to incur her wrath
Dressed and dinner ready, he went looking for Shobha.
He found her in the living room, and saw she was looking gorgeous and dressed to kill. She had a one-piece black dress that showed just the right degree of stylish cleavage that would make men notice but pass acceptably. Her dress ended just below her knees hinting at her shapely legs. She saw him, smiled and twirled, the act sending her hemline higher exposing her fleshy smooth thighs for just that tantalizing moment. He walked across, and put an arm around her waist. She smiled back and kisses him on his cheeks, nuzzling and nibbling at his earlobes.
“So, where’s our birthday guest?” , he asked curiously.
As if on cue, Bhola walked into the room.
Both Chetan and Shobha stared at Bhola. The dashing, handsome man looked very different from the servant they knew. The unkempt sideburns were gone, as was the unruly hair. Bhola had generously used Chetan’s hair gel that Shobha moaned him. His thick hair was swept back, glistening with the gel and giving him a smart well-manicured look. He had a strong jawline and a square jaw that went well with the curly hair. The blue slim fit shirt that Shobha gifted him flattered his build and broad chest, giving him a movie star look. The untidy servant from Bihar was gone, and replaced by a handsome, well groomed hunk with rugged looks that most women would give a second glance from the corner of their eyes.
Even married women.
Especially happy married women like Shobha.
Once Chetan got over the fact that the rugged, handsome guy with a great physique was actually their servant, dinner went surprisingly well. Shobha had seated herself between both men at the round shaped dinner table. Chetan loved the food, and Bhola was unexpectedly shy and tongue tied initially. Shobha kept the conversation going smoothly with questions about Bhola’s native place and life in the village. Chetan divided his attention between the food, which he helped himself to generous portions and questions of his own. Chetan poured red wine, and filled all three wine glasses generously and refilled Bhola’s after Shobha successfully got Bhola to down the first glass.
It turned out that Bhola’s real name was Bhuvan and his good physique was the result of working long hours at his uncle’s fields. Chetan couldn’t help notice that Bhola kept his eyes downcast and spoke shyly at the start, but as the dinner progressed, the guy cast lifelong looks at Shobha. Perhaps It was the wine, thought Chetan. Or the Shobha’s cleavage.
Chetan’s mobile phone beeped. He glanced at the message, groaned and got up.
“Jaanu, the London office needs something urgently”, he missed Shobha on her cheek, and noted distractedly her deep cleavage. She made a face.
As he walked away, his distracted mind already on the information request from the London office, a part is his brain told him that he was leaving his surprisingly handsome young servant – now a dinner guest at their dinner table – alone with his very sexy wife.
Shobha poured a third glass of wine into Bhuvan’s glass – she tried not to think of him as Bhola any more. She showed him how to clink glasses and he followed shyly. he would do anything this gorgeous woman across the table would tell him to do, Bhola thought to himself.
A few seconds of awkward silence passed between them. Shobha toyed with the food on her plate. As she sipped from her some glass, she caught him staring at her cleavage. She smiled back at him, and he blushed with embarrassment at being caught out.
“Aapka necklace bahut badiya ha”, he made a clumsy effort to explain the object of his attention. (Your necklace is beautiful)
Shobha looked down at her cleavage. It was a good observation. She was wearing a large swarovski pendant on a thin gold chain that flattered her cleavage, and the black top.
She smiled. “Accha laga? Dekho!”, (Do you like it? Have a look) she leaned forward towards him, the pendant in her hands and trying to get it near him for a closer look. He obligingly leaned forward too. Their heads came close together. He was inches from her pendant, and more importantly from her cleavage. He saw the generous curve of her breasts this close. Her womanly perfume wafted into his nostrils. He had never smelt anything so good and his pulse began racing. Shobha noticed the reddening of his face and slowly moved closer to his mouth. He now took the pendant from her for a closer look. It hung on a short chain, and she angled and twisted towards him. Their lips were now inches apart. She cupped his chin gently, preventing him from moving back reflexively. She then nibbled his ear gently. She could sense the rapid breathing and smelled the manly cologne she had gifted him. Bhola – or Bhuvan – drew a deep breath, inhaling her womanly fragrance, closed his eyes to savour this heavenly experience.
Shobha then kissed him at the corner of his mouth, teasing and barely a kiss. His eyes still closed, he turned around and leaned forward for a full kiss. Shobha teasingly pulled back just that fraction, and brushed her lips against his. Her hand instead reached over to his thighs and lightly cupped his crotch. He had a bulge and she prepared to squeeze the bulge.
Just then they heard the footsteps of a returning Chetan and both pulled back quickly. One with reluctance and the other with fright.
Chetan walked in, massaging his neck and grimacing. “Bloody fellows! Can’t even let us have dinner in peace.”
Shobha gained control quickly and shuffled the plates, now empty. She suggested they move to the balcony with their drinks – something they frequently did – and have Bhuvan join them there. Bhuvan obliged cleaning the table quickly, anything to hide his discomfort and his hard-on.
The dinner over, the three of them shifted to the balcony terrace. Shobha and Chetan stretched out on cozy armchairs and Bhuvan – or Bhola – sat on a beanbag facing both of them. The 15th floor balcony overlooked the sprawling but silent city, eerily silent and traffic-less with the lockdown. A cool breeze was blowing and it looked like the pre-monsoon showers might roll into Bangalore.
Shobha stretched her long, smooth legs, a wine glass in her hands. Her dress rode above her knees and Chetan seated diagonally across her on the beanbag got the an eyeful of those creamy thighs as he leaned forward with his wine glass held in both hands. Chetan sprawled on his armchair, eyes half closed and squirmed and stretched his stiff neck, and lazily lit a cigarette and offered one to Bhuvan. Bhuvan gratefully accepted, took a deep puff and coughed not used to the quality of tobacco.
Shobha laughed, leaned forward and pulled the cigarette from Bhuvan’s lips, took a deep puff herself, put it carefully back between his lips and exhaled with the comfort of a woman accustomed to the occasional smoke. Bhuvan had never seen a woman smoke before, much less share a puff with him and found it inexplicably sexy. Shobha shuffled her long legs and placed them on the beanbag touching Bhuvan’s hips. Even in the dim lights of a cloudy night, Bhuvan could see her creamy upper thighs and a contact of her bare ankles against his hips sent a shiver of arousal through him.
Chetan made small talk and asked about Bhuvan’s village in Jharkhand. Shobha asked him about some neighbours in their Bangalore apartment society and felt reassured when Bhuvan seemed oblivious to the apartment society gossip – it felt like the fellow could be trusted to maintain discretion.
“Bhola, koi girl friend hai Kya tumhari?” , Chetan blew a lazy smoke ring and asked. (Bhola, so you have a girlfriend?)
“Saheb, humari itni kismat kahan”, said Bhuvan, and then perhaps encouraged by the intimacy ventured, “Saheb, aap to bahut naseeb walein hain ki Shobha bhaji aapke sath hain”. (Sir, you are lucky. You have someone like Shobha madam).
Chetan blew another smoke ring, rubbed his hurting neck, and said, “Yaar, tumhari body itni fit hai. Koi ladki toh zaroor patayi hogi tumne.” (Buddy, you have such a fit physique! You must have scored with a girl!)
Bhola blushed at the compliment not knowing how to react.
“Toh Shobha bhabhi itni pasand hai kya?”, said Chetan, pouring and refilling Bhola’s glass. (Do you like Shobha madam so much?)
Bhola blushed again, nodded and grinned!
“Toh bolo kyun? ” (Tell me why?)
A coy Bhola shuffled on his beanbag, gathered courage and said, “Bhabhi bahut sundar hai” (Madam is very beautiful!)
Chetan took a puff and pressed forward with the confidence that he had his man cornered, “Toh Shobha bhabhi ke liye kuch bhi karoge?” (Will you do anything for Shobha madam?)
Poor Bhola walked unsuspecting into the trap and nodded, “Kyon nahi saheb. Bhabi bahut achhi hain”. (Why not, sir? Madam is a nice person).
The fellow is a simpleton, concluded Chetan and turned the screw, “Achha toh apni t-shirt utaro. Bhabhi ko dikhao kitni solid hai tumhari body”. (OK, then take off your t-shirt. Show madam how good is your physique!).
Bhola looked confused and looked at both Shobha and Chetan.
Shobha raised her leg slightly, exposed a bit more of her thigh. She switched on her baby doll voice, “Come on Bhola, utaro na, Tum itna handsome ho, yaar. Sharmao mat” (Come on Bhola, take it off. Don’t be shy. You are a handsome dude),
Not used to the wine or the baby doll tone, Bhola didn’t hesitate. Eager to please his mistress, the smitten fellow stood up and took off his T shirt in a single motion. Bare chested, but oddly confident, his chest puffed up, he waited for admiration.
Shobha looked at the handsome clean shaven bare chested handsome fellow. He was clearly a simpleton and she wasn’t going to stop just here.
She placed her wine glass on the floor, stood up herself and took a step closer to Bhola. She was just inches away from him. Unconcerned about her husband, she put both her hands on his broad shoulders and caressed his upper chest. The muscles felt hard, typical of someone with a rustic lifestyle and physically active. She traced her index finger over his pectorals, then along his upper shoulders and felt his biceps. Bhola smelt her womanly fragrance at close proximity for the second time that night and inhaled quietly. Her husband watching her intently, Shobha rubbed his upper chest again with her flat palm, and then traced the outline of Bhola’s nipple with her fingernail.
Bhola shivered, and felt blood rush in to engorged his cock.
Chetan was feeling a bit woozy with the wine, but not enough to feel disconnected at the proximity of his wife and his servant. His neck was stiff and called for attention.
“Bhola, mera shoulder massage karna” , he called out. (Bhola, massage my shoulder)
A reluctant and bare chested Bhola stepped back from physical contact with his mistress for the second time that night and walked over to behind his master and began massaging Chetan’s shoulder. Shobha shrugged, sat down on the armchair and crossed and uncrossed her legs. Standing behind his masters back, and continuing the massage, Bhola managed to get a good eyeful. Chetan sipped some more wine, took a deep drag on his cigarettes and closed his eyes as he relaxed under the ministrations of Bhola’s kneading of his shoulder.
That’s when it began to drizzle.
Shobha suggested they move into the bedroom, and all three moved in to take cover from the drizzle. Chetan sprawled over on the bed, and Bhola moved by his side to resume the massage.
That’s when Shobha made her move
She lay down on the other side of the bed and crossed her right hand over her forehead.
“Bhola, sirf saheb ka hi massage karoge yah mere liye bhi time nikaloge?” (Bhola, will you only massage your master or will you find some time for me too?.)
Shobha pulled up her skirt halfway above her creamy thighs. Her smooth, shapely legs were bare and inviting. Bhola sat down gingerly at the edge of the bed by her feet. She wriggled her toes to indicate silently with her eyes that he should start there. Bhola dutifully began kneading her soles and then ankles. Her feet felt tender and enticing to touch. He had a great viewing angle to her thighs which remained crossed together. After a couple of minutes, after he felt he had her relaxed, he moved up and massaged her shin and calf muscles. Shobha began breathing deeply, her breasts rising and falling under her top as she felt the strong masculine pressure on her calf muscles. Bhola watched Chetan from the corner of his eyes but his master didn’t move but seemed watching the spectacle closely. Shobha then moaned softly.
Bhola took that as a sign of encouragement and decided to move up, literally. Mustering courage, and emboldened by the wine, he passed over Shobha’s knees and moved up to her thighs. Shobha rewarded his boldness by now parting her thighs. His heart leaped in his throat as he thought he saw her panty. She parted her thighs a bit more before bringing them a bit closer but not before he glimpsed her black panties. Bhola now had a full hardon and was glad he was squatting at the edge of the bed, legs crossed and relieved it was hidden from Shobha’s view.
“Maza aa raha hai?” asked Chetan, lazily blowing from his puff. (Are you enjoying it?).
Bhola stayed dumb unsure if the question was addressed him him or his mistress.
“Bolo Bhola, saheb pooch rahe hain ki maza as raha hai ki nahin?”. (Speak up Bhola. Your master is asking if you are enjoying it). This time it was Shobha.
Bhola felt speechless, and could merely managed to nod dumbly.
“Zor se bolo, Bhola, kuch sunaiye nahi diya”, (Speak up Bhola, Cant hear you!), pushed Chetan.
Bhola managed to find his voice. “Haan saheb, maza aa raha hai”. And then mustering courage, he ventured, “Bhabhi, aapko maza aa raha hai na?” ( Madam, are you enjoying it?)
Shobha turned conspiratorially to her husband, “Dekho, pooch raha hai ki mujhe maza aa raha hai kya!” (Look, he is asking me if I am enjoying it!).
Chetan smirked and decided to taunt Bhola, “Bhola, maalom hai, Aurat ko kaise maza dete hain? (Bhola, so you know how to please a woman?)
“Bhola, madam ke paon kiss karo”. (Bhola, kiss madam’s feet). Chetan decided to humiliate Bhola.
Poor Bhola would have done anything to keep massaging his mistress’s feet. He gently kissed her on her ankles. She rewarded him by briefly parting her thighs. That gorgeous panty again came into view. She closed her thighs again. Bhola felt like a child who is shown a chocolate before it is again hidden from view. He swallowed and kissed his mistress’s toes again. It felt so tender. Instinctively he sucked her toes. This time, she moaned softly.
Chetan leaned across from his side of the bed and brought his face close to Shobha. She parted her lips on anticipation, now getting aroused herself.
Chetan had tasted blood in teasing Bhola and felt fully in control. He stubbed his cigarette into an ash tray by the bedside.
“Bhola, madam ka figure kaisa hai?” (Bhola, how do you like madam’s figure?).
Bhola nodded dumbly, his hard on seemed to have drained blood from his face, and croaked, “Accha hai” (It’s good)
“Madam ke boobs kaise hai?” (How do you like madam’s boobs?) Chetan placed his left palm over Shobha’s breast and squeezed it gently through the top. Shobha moaned again.
Bhola figured if he nodded and indicated approval, this deliriously erotic play could continue for some more time. Already his birthday was feeling like a dream he didn’t want to wake up from. Chetan rewarded him by squeezing Shobha’s breast harder. She moaned loudly and squirmed, parting her legs slightly more.
“Aur dekhoge?” (Want to see more?). Chetan was now feeling like the dominant male taunting a poor hapless weaker male showing off his sexual trophy. Drunk with this power, and wanting to see the hapless servant drool further, he decided to raise the stakes higher.
In one single stroke, he reached across and pulled up Shobha’s skirt over her waist. Shobha shrieked and protested as her black panties were now fully exposed to both men. Chetan swiftly unbuttoned the skirt, pulled it off her body and threw it carelessly across the bedroom. Shobha instinctively put her hands to cover her panty clad pussy but a laughing and drunk Chetan brushed away her hands. Bhola’s eyes widened with lust and disbelief as he saw his mistress’s creamy smooth and shapely thighs and the black panty clad pussy right in front of him. The panty snugly covered thick pussy lips forming a camel toe. He also saw that the panty had an unmistakable damp spot right at the centre.
Shobha was now giggling and rolling side by side on the bed and covered her face with her palms in false modesty. Drunk with power at this extraordinary control he had over two people, Chetan decided he wanted even more. He pulled Shobha’s top from under her and over her shoulder. Shobha’s black matching bra came into view. Shobha was now clad only in black bra and black panty, both snugly fitting her shapely body. She began laughing hysterically like a small girl playing a game with two boys disrobing her in a kids game. She rolled over on her stomach before rolling back again to her back. For a few seconds, Bhola saw her gorgeous ass with a part of her buttocks exposed to his hungry eyes before she turned back and presented him again with her panty clad pussy. Her creamy fair skin contrasted with the black panty and her curvaceous waist with just the gentle roll of fat, then flat belly and a deep navel and a flat stomach.
Suddenly, she paused giggling and looked at Bhola directly.
“Bhola, apna pant utaro!” (Bhola, take off your pant!).
Bhola’s heart missed a beat and his mind went blank and he stared at her dumb and speechless, wondering if he had heard correctly. Then Chetan wagged a finger at him, gesturing for the offending garment to be discarded. Bhola had no choice but to take off his new jeans. His coloured underwear came into view. He could no longer now hide his bulge.
Both husband and wife looked intently at the bulge.
Like a school boy caught by the class teacher with a hardon, Bhola tried to cover his hard on with his hands, but Chetan laughed cruelly, wagged his finger and gestured to him to part his palms.
Bhola closed his eyes and took his hands off his crotch and put them on his hips. When he opened his eyes, Shobha had a fresh demand.
“Bhola, yeh bhi utaar do!”. (Bhola, take it off too).
It was a command. Bhola felt powerless. In a daze, he pulled down his briefs to his ankles.
Both husband and wife stared at his naked cock. It was dark chocolate brown, full, hard and looked swollen and the knob at the top almost ready to burst. It was medium sized but thicker than what they would have expected but in keeping with Bhola’s broad shoulders and chest. The round brown knob at the end was glistening in the yellow light of the bedroom. Bhola had also trimmed his pubic hair and his cock stood proud in contrast to its owner’s shyness.
This cock is beautiful, thought Shobha. She unconsciously moistened her lips as she checked out their naked servant.
“Ek baar ghumo!”, Shobha commanded him. (Turn around!)
Her naked slave obediently spun around. She noted his firm, curved buttocks and narrow waist. His buttocks were a lighter shade of brown than the rest of his body. Unlike Chetan, who had a soft flouncy hairy ass, Bhola’s buttocks were hairless, well rounded and muscular. Good enough to bite, she thought, and felt her pussy go moist. He had a well muscled back and broad shoulders, not like a body builder but like that of a simple young man of his age and fitness. Chetan used to have the same physique, she recalled wistfully, when they got married six years back.
Chetan wanted to distract his wife from ogling their naked servant. His beautiful wife was stretched out on their marital bed, naked except for being dressed in a black bra and panty and ogling their naked servant. And the servant had a hard on and a fit body. Chetan felt aroused but warning lights were also flashing in his brain. He was after all a banker by profession. A simultaneous assessment of risk and reward in an emerging was his core skill.
Chetan’s own hardon now demanded attention. He rolled over on the bed to be closer to his wife, cupped her chin to pull her away from the sight that captivated her and kissed her savagely on her lips. With his left hand, he slipped her bra strap off her right shoulder exposing her full breast and repeated the act with the other strap. Shobha was now topless, on her back, clad in only a panty which now had a clear damp spot. Her breasts were exposed, brown nipples erect, and one naked man, not her husband, ogling at her nakedness along with her husband.
Chetan began sucking her left breast while kneading the other firmly. Bhola stood confused, his back against the bedroom wall. his underwear around his ankles, his penis erect and jutting out as he dropped his hands from his hips and slowly clenching and unclenching his fists not knowing what else to do with his hands. He was slowly beginning to get the realisation that his nakedness was something his gorgeous mistress liked. Shobha looked intently at him, past her husband who was fully focused on her breasts and made eye contact with the fellow and smiled. Bhola was too dazed to smile back. With her index finger, she gestured to him to come closer. Bhola gingerly came by her bedside and knelt down, his eyes now at the same level as the twin mound of her breasts and just two feet away.
Chetan was busy sucking the breast alternately and kneading them with one hand. Bhola had that familiar feeling of a poor starving kid at the school playground during lunchtime watching the rich kid open a Tiffin box full of goodies while he could only watch. Shobha looked at him lovingly, reached out with her hand to his broad naked shoulder caressed his muscular shoulder, teasingly ran her index finger along his biceps, clasped his left hand with her right hand and placed it in her flat bare stomach. Bhola had been enamoured of her flat stomach with the gentle roll of alluring fat that comes from being the mother of a child. He traced an outline on her navel. Mustering courage, Bhola dipped his finger and probed gently the cavity of her exposed navel.
Shobha shivered at the contact of her servant’s finger on the skin around her bare navel. She tossed her head, moaned again under the combined effect of her servant caressing her navel and her husband mauling her breasts.
In his wine-intoxicated and sexually aroused state, Chetan realized his wife was also being touched by a competitor. He paused, confused whether he should resist, ignore or encourage competition.
Shobha sensed the state of his mind, like she always did, and knew she had to distract him.
“Jaanu, take off your t-shirt” , she said hoarsely. Chetan obliged and the t shirt came off.
“Jaanu, and the jeans too”. Chetan was on his knees sucking Shobha’s breasts, and he had to let go the object of his attention trying to pull off the jeans. It was clumsier than with the t shirt and he struggled with the belt.
“Bhola, saheb ko help karo”, ordered Shobha. (Bhola, help your master).
An obedient Bhola pulled the jeans off his master. Chetan raised his ass in cooperation to allow his servant to disrobe him. His bare, hairy and protuberant belly came into view along with his blue jockey briefs, and a very visible hardon. Staying on his knees, he now moved to straddle Shobha to resume fondling her breasts.
Which left a confused Bhola not knowing what to do, and his view to Shobha’s naked breasts now blocked by Chetan’s bulky torso.
Shobha embraced Chetan, pulling him closer against her breasts and over his shoulders made eye contact with a naked Bhola who was still standing with his back to the wall and standing to attention much like his hardon. With her eyes, she gestured Bhola to come closer. The fellow moved closer to her feet and caressed her with his hands sliding upwards the now familiar thighs.
That was the moment when Chetan, nuzzling Shobha’s breasts and sliding into a missionary position bumped into Bhola.
That unexpected male-to-male contact broke the spell for the husband.
He looked at his topless and lovely wife naked but for a panty, lying on their bed, eyes half closed, her mouth partly open in sexual arousal and moaning. He looked back and saw their naked servant, cock erect, sliding his hands slowly upwards along his wife’s inner thighs.
This was now crossing a limit, some part of his brain told him.
“Bhola, ab bahar jao!”, he ordered with a sudden change of tone. (Bhola, now get out).
Bhola snapped to attention but confused. Shobha took a couple of seconds to get out of her state of arousal and react. She didn’t want this change of script just when it was going so well.
She protested, “C’mon jaanu, Rehne do naa…..” (Come on honey, let him stay).
“Bhola, bahar!” (Bhola, out!), Chetan barked, ignoring Shobha’s arousal-laden plea.
Years of cohabiting had taught Shobha to recognize the few rare instances when her husband wanted to have his way. She protested, but Chetan’s tone was harsh and she knew he would not back out. Bhola looked at her pleading for intervention, his cock now rapidly deflating. Shobha’s mind did a rapid calculation whose side to take, and her instinct gave her the answer.
She rolled over the bed, got to her feet, still topless and gently gestured Bhola to leave.
The hapless fellow was now close to tears and she felt sorry for him. She picked up his discarded briefs, walked towards him, still topless, and thrust the garment in his hands. Bhola mumbled distressingly, a film of tears across his eyes. She sympathetically patted him affectionately on his cheeks but pointed to the door. The fellow shuffled out reluctantly looking back for one last look at his topless mistress.
Fate had opened the gates of heaven to him and just as he was enough to plunge right in, they had snapped shut in an identical manner twice in the last few days!
Shobha sighed and returned to the bed. An aroused Chetan pulled her down, kissed her savagely and mounted her missionary style. As he made his few frenetic thrusts before collapsing into an early climax, Shobha ‘s mind was distractedly repeating the words Bhola had mumbled into her ears just before being ignominiously shunted out.
“Bhabhi, Bhola abhi bhookha hai” (Madam, Bhola is still hungry!)
Fifteen minutes passed after Chetan’s vigorous thrusts ended in a one sided climax leaving Shobha – yet again – unsatisfied. Soon he was snoring leaving Shobha alone with her thoughts. Mentally, she ticked off his sexual performance. After all she was an HR Manager before taking a career break for Bunty. Three on Five for effort but One on Five for results. His sexual ardour had certainly increased in the last one week since lockdown but he still wasn’t able to – or couldn’t – satisfy her. The presence of a younger, fitter and more virile male, the strange forced intimacy and privacy that the lockdown produced through forced confinement as well as the intimate encounters – partly engineered and partly spontaneous – between the couple and the young male servant clearly aroused husband and wife. Their love making frequency had increased but pity Chetan didn’t or couldn’t still get her to a sexual climax.
She sighed and decided to have a quick hot shower before trying to get to sleep. As the hotspray of the shower hit her naked body in the privacy of her bathroom, her thoughts turned to Bhola and her mind recalled the sight of his erect cock and fit body.
She remembered he had a cute round tightly muscled ass – and reminded her so much about the handsome intern who joined her department and flirted with her. And with whom she flirted back. Shobha’s fingers involuntarily went to her pussy and she now turned on the hand faucet to jet mode aiming the water stream to her pussy lips and clitoris.
Her mind alternated between memory of the handsome intern and Bhola. She realized both had that rugged look in common. Both had a great body. Both were at least ten years younger than her. Both were lower down in the power equation versus her. Bhola was a complete simpleton, of course. She had correctly surmised that he was totally smitten with her. She derived a huge kick out of teasing Bhola. Just like with that handsome intern.
Just like with the intern whom she teased with that one unbutton undone on her white blouse when she asked him one day to help her with a minor computer problem. To help her, the intern had to peer at the screen over her shoulder. With that extra button undone, he could look deep into her generous cleavage and smell her alluring perfume. She noticed his discomfiture after a minute when he shuffled uncomfortably trying to hide a very obvious hardon. She innocently continued to tease him further, now with a pencil gently moving to and fro between her full lips, looking innocently into his eyes and voiced the double meaning question, “Is there a hardware problem? “. He obviously caught the inflection in her pronunciation on the hardware and shuffled back, his face red. Shobha derived a kick out of teasing him.
He knew she was teasing him, and more importantly he knew that she knew that he knew. Men were all the same, she thought. You had to push their buttons the right way and the blood would move from their brains to their dick making them putty in a woman’s hands.
Still lost in those thoughts, Shobha dried herself with a towel, wrapped it around her naked body and stepped back into the bedroom. That’s when she saw Bhola’s discarded jeans on the floor. The hapless fellow had exited clumsily – and naked – just clutching his briefs and t shirt. She picked it up and walked into the living room intending to leave it outside the door to his room for him to pick it up the next morning.
As she walked into the living room headed towards the passage way to the servant room, she paused startled.
Bhola was sitting perched on the side arm of the sofa. The living room was dimly lit with a single yellow golden lamp, and the fellow seemed naked except for his brief with his t shirt still clutched in his hands, his head bowed in despair. He was shocked to see her and she noted that he seemed to be almost in tears.
“Bhola!”, She whispered fiercely in surprise and looked back hastily. Fortunately, the door to their bedroom was shut.
“Bhabhi, aap!”, (Madam! It’s you!) he jumped almost falling off from his perch startled by her presence. Surprise turned to embarrassment as he didn’t expect her to catch him in his briefs. Or to chance upon him dressed as she was in just a towel.
“Bhola, abhi tak yahan kya kar rahe ho? Soye nahin?” (Bhola, what are you doing here this late. Didn’t go to sleep?) Shobha recovered her usual confident poise, not withstanding the fact that she was dressed in a towel talking to her man servant who in turn was dressed in just his briefs, and with her husband asleep not more than twenty feet away, and not mindful of the fact that the servant had seen her topless just half an hour back.
Bhola began sobbing, catching her by surprise. He seemed to be mumbling something but couldn’t get his words coherent. Clearly he had been mooning away in the living room since being ejected – ignominiously naked – by her husband after the couple had both stripped and teased the poor fellow. He probably couldn’t take it and Shobha felt a pang of sympathy for him.
She stepped closer to him, again patting him on his cheeks to soothe him down and noticed the tear-streaked eyes. Do twenty year old handsome men cry? she mused. Strangely, she felt a sense of control on the situation not withstanding that she was dressed in just a towel.
She cupped his face between her palms and drew closer.
“Baa….Bhaa..Bhabhi, Humko aise mat tadpao. Hum mar jayenge. Hum aap se pyar karte hain. Aap him as umar mein badi hain. Aur him aapke naukar hain. Par hamara bhi kuch khyal kijiye. Hum aap pe marte hain. Hum aap ke liye kuch bhi kar denge. Jaan de denge aapke liye. Par aisa humko tadpao mat bhabhi. Hum pagal no jayenge. Saheb ko bolo ki hum par aisa zulm na karein”. The words tumbled out in an emotional outburst catching her by surprise.
( Madam, please don’t torture me like this. I will die. I love you. You are older than me. I am your servant. But please do think of me. I can give my life for you. I will do anything for you. I will give up my life. But please don’t trouble me like this. I am going crazy. Please tell saheb that he shouldn’t torture me like this……)
Shobha instinctively tried to calm down his hysterics and felt a gush of sympathy for the anguish the poor fellow must be feeling.
She kissed him.
It was a soft kiss initially on his lips more to stop his emotional outburst. She tasted the tobacco on his lips from the cigarette that they had shared an hour back. His chin felt rough and with an evening shadow of a beard. He looked so vulnerable with his eyes covered with a film of tears. He closed his eyes and she kissed him on his closed eyes. And kissed him again on his lips.
This time he was prepared. He kissed back hungrily. She forced open his mouth. He parted his lips readily. Her tongue forced its way into his mouth. Not bad, she thought as she tasted the strange taste of his wet tongue and mouth. She was used to Chetan and this was a new male mouth. That he was a servant never crossed her head. She was the aggressor. They continued kissing and the silent room was filled with the noise of their smooching. Thank god, Chetan was a sound sleeper, thought Shobha.
Bhola now pulled her closer. She swept into an embrace and he tightened his strong arms around her. She now felt his strong muscles and his broad shoulders. Now he cupped her face in his hands and sucked back with an ardour that surprised her. His hands then went over her back.
Which is when her towel dropped leaving her naked and hugging her servant who was also naked but for his briefs.
Bhola’s heart jumped when he realized his mistress was now naked. His rough hands traveled all over her smooth naked back and grabbed that plump naked ass. He squeezed it once, then repeatedly as if frantic to feel if this was a dream for him. The smell of her recently shampooed wet hair drive him crazy and he gurgled at this erotic sensation. Shobha felt his rough hands part the cheeks of her buttocks. She felt her breasts squeezed against his naked chest.
Her hands traveled instinctively to his briefs and pulled it down. He obliged readily parting his legs for the garment to fall off. His raging hard-on was now pressed hard against her lower stomach. Now she greedily grabbed his buns. His ass felt right and muscular exactly the way she had imagined it when she saw him naked some time back. Her fingernails dug deep into the flesh of his buttocks. She unconsciously mimicked the way he was squeezing her ass. He tightened his ass muscles as a reflex action and she felt the firm curve of his buttocks.
She pushed him away and stepped back. He took a step towards her, but she stepped back again. He paused, confusion and arousal both writ on his face.
Shobha stepped back stark naked.
The living room was lit in yellow light that made her skin glow like a golden goddess. She had an hour glass figure with shapely medium sized but swollen breasts, still swollen from the two years since her motherhood but having retained their firmness without a sag. The areola was light brown, perfectly circular and coin sized with the nipple dark brown and erect. She had that gentle roll of fat around her waist that young mothers in India have and which makes the sari such a wicked dress, especially when it flatters a flat stomach and a fleshy ass. Shobha kept her pubic hair trimmed – not shaven – and the jet black pubis contrasted with her fair skin.
Shobha now stared at Bhola. With an evening shadow on his chin, this broad shouldered, naked dude with a smooth, clean shaven chest and flat stomach could have easily been a male model. A model for male underwear, she thought, and smiled faintly She looked at his cock, thick and swollen nestled in curly black pubic hair. He was medium sized but thick and the swollen bulb looked like it was begging for woman’s attention.
Shobha reclined on the cushioned 3-seated sofa, the long thick tresses covering her bare back and silently gestured Bhola to come closer. He obediently stepped closer, his erect penis wobbling with every step he took. He came closer and his cock was now almost eye level to Shobha as she lay on the sofa. She rolled over on her stomach to make space for him on the sofa, but he continued standing next to her now staring at her now exposed ass.
She reached out and gently touched the shaft of his cock. His cock twitched and throbbed at the first ever womanly touch Bhola felt on his cock. Shobha’s slim fingers curled around the shaft. It felt hot, slightly moist to touch and had that strong masculine smell. It felt different from Chetan, she mused. Bhola’s was dark brown, while Chetan’s was much fairer. Bhola’s had a nice bulbous head, while Chetan’s was more like a light sausage. This was nicer, she decided, and smiled to herself.
She was lying naked, on her stomach on the sofa, her bare ass exposed to Bhola. She had meant to invite him to sit next to her on the sofa but he was still a servant, and stood close to her as if offering his cock for display and inspection.
Shobha hesitated, unsure what to do next. Contrary to her assertive external appearance, Shobha had been monogomous in her marital life, and had just one sexual encounter before marriage. Both her lovers were mediocre and pretty straight laced in their tastes. Chetan never liked oral sex. She kissed him a few times down “there”, and had tried a few times to give him a blow job. He always pushed her away and preferred instead to mount her missionary style. He kissed her down there a few times, usually disinterestedly and when she nudged him to do more, he would reply that he found it distasteful and seemed to think penetration, humping and his own release were all there was to sex between the two of them. And then childbirth had happened, and with it a long period of abstinence …. until his sexual ardour seemed to have recently rebounded back with the lockdown. Rebounded but with no improvement in his sexual technique, thought Shobha.
Shobha, of course, watched plenty of porn like many women, and was curious about blowjobs but had never handled a real cock in real life.
She felt the desire growing between her legs, but there was still that pang of guilt that held her back. Bhola, on the other hand, was going crazy with lust but didn’t have the expertise or confidence to make a move on his own.
Shobha traced the length of his cock with her index finger. It twitched in response. His manly odour aroused her. He used her full palm and grasped it as one would hold a shaft. Instinctively, she began fisting it up and down. She noted his cock was longer than the width of her palm. The shaft was fully engorged, with veins standing out and the thick bulb seemed almost ready to burst. She then changed tack and cupped his balls. Bhola gurgled with joy, and reached out himself to squeeze his mistress’s naked ass. Shobha felt her own desire mounting. Her long index finger and fingernail scratched his scrotum, and cupped his balls. She scooped them, as if weighing them and gently massaged and lightly squeezed the two testicles together while scratching his sensitive skin at the base of the scrotum with one long fingernail.
She looked at Bhola’s face. His eyes were half-closed in delirium, and his own hands were squeezing the fleshy globes of her buttocks. Bhola pushed his finger deeper, parting her butt cheeks and pushing harder. She moaned softly and squirmed with a strange new sensation as his fingertip nudged against her tight anus. He was now moaning loudly, and began trembling as if gasping for breath.
And then, to her surprise and disappointment, Bhola ejaculated.
A warm stream of semen gushed into her palm, and a few droplets fell on her naked back and buttocks. Bhola seemed both shocked and embarrassed, and after the few moments of catching his breath, began mumbling incoherent apologies.
“Baaa…baaa.baa..bhabhi, sorry, bhabhi…..maalom nahin…kyon….kaisa….sorry, bhabhi”, he mumbled. (“Madam, sorry, madam, I dont know ….why….what…sorry!”)
His penis was nor rapidly becoming flaccid, and his eyes once again seemed to brim with tears, this time from embarrassment. He didn’t quite understand what had happened, but knew it wasn’t supposed to end this suddenly. Shobha tenderly pushed his face down against her naked breasts, and he snuggled his hair against her cheeks, while she patted the back of his head to comfort the poor fellow. She kissed gently him on his cheeks and them lips to hold back his tears. She held back her own disappointment, but smiled to herself knowing these things happen to men.
She now knew exactly what buttons to press with both men, and new boundaries had been broken.
The rest was now only a matter of time, she hoped.
Bhola lay supine and motionless against her for a few minutes, while she admired his right rounded ass. Slowly his breathing returned to normal, and he seemed to regain realization that he was naked and snuggling on the sofa against his mistress, equally stark naked. When she was sure that he had regained some part of his composure, she pushed him gently off her body. His semen was drying against her palm, and a few globs on her back. Embarrassed, Bhola dutifully picked up his discarded briefs and hastily wiped his mistress clean. In pressing the garment against her naked back and fleshy buttocks, he got one more chance to touch her body.
Bhola fervently hoped he would get another chance.
Shobha gently reminded him that it was time to go to his room. Her passion too had receded and she now wanted to get rid of him quickly, and didn’t want to take a chance of Chetan waking up and stumbling into the living room, searching for her, and discovering her making out with their naked young servant. Bhola dutifully obliged, now embarrassed about his limp cock and hastily pulled up his briefs.
She smiled at his haste. He was proud about his erect cock shamelessly offering it to her on display a few minutes back, and swagger was replaced with shyness as the manhood wilted. Bhola beat a quick exit to his servant room that opened into the corridor next to the living room, turning back one last time to glimpse his mistress. She was watching him, and smiled back affectionately, her composure regained, seemingly untouched by the encounter with the shy and handsome servant while her husband lay snoring twenty feet away on their marital bed.
A few minutes after Bhola retreated into his private servant room, Shobha got up. She ignored the discarded towel still lying on the floor, and coolly walked back to her bedroom, stark naked, bare footed, hips swaying, humming in her head and smiling to herself.
Chetan was sprawled out on their bed, fast asleep and completely naked after his own hasty exertions some time back. He was on his back, his obese hairy belly naked and his cock exposed in his sleep. Shobha looked at her husband’s shriveled penis, dimly lit in the bedroom light. On impulse, she reached out and gently touched it. When he didn’t move, she gently cupped his balls and curved her fingers around the shaft . It fit neatly into the palm of her hand. She mentally compared the organs of both men in size, shape and colour and smiled to herself. Chetan squirmed in his sleep, and she reluctantly let go, not wanting to wake him up now.
As she lay on her back on his bedside, still naked, she closed her eyes. Her hands almost immediately went to her pussy. Her fingers pushed and parted her pussy lips, and she slowly, and then with increasing intensity, began rubbing her clitoris. In just a few minutes, her passion reached a climax and she arched her back as her mouth held back a silent gasp of release.
In a few minutes, she drifted into sleep.
Her passion pursued her in her dream. In her dream, she was naked on her back in the sofa on the living room and a young, strong male was pounding her hard. She was moaning in ecstasy when she happened to see someone watching her being humped. It was Chetan, her husband, and she held eye contact with him for a long moment and smiled back. He seemed too glazed to react. She then suddenly saw another man next to Chetan watching her. She took a closer look and it was Bhola, mouth open and watching her get pounded.
Surprised in her dream, that Bhola was in the audience, she looked back and refocused to see the face of the main who was fucking her.
It was the handsome young intern from her old office.
Credit : RaviShikha