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It was too early in the morning for me to start the day.
Bachchu had already got up and I told him not to hurry up with morning tea and breakfast
preparation, as I wanted to get some more sleep, although I was pretty sure that I wouldn't get any
more sleep.All that I needed was a bit of privacy to think with a cool head what I was upto. I came
back to my bedroom, closed the door and lay down on the bed. The first question that struck me was
whether Raja was serious about what he told me last night. I felt that he was kidding and in
reality it's not possible for a husband to grant a blanket permission to his wife for having sex
with the domestic boyservant !!! Our conversation took place in a light and joking mood and I could
not tell Raja about how Bachchu massaged my breasts. So, there was every reason for Raja to believe
that it was just a casual dirty conversation of ours and there was no seriousness hidden in it. But
I knew that my body was on fire and was I mischievously thinking of misusing my husband's absence
for a misadventure with my servant ? The moment I thought this, I could sense an increase in my
pulse rate and throbbing of heart. I was restless to get back my sex life and all that I needed
first was just a man who would be able to overpower my pain with lust. I was getting horny again.
My fingers were touching my cunt and I was wet in no time. Immediately, I thought of the barriers
between our ages and more so, in our social status. What would people think of me, if ever a
misdeed of this nature is known to others ? I tried to impose the social norms and taboos upon me.
So I must do something to overcome these dirty thoughts. I thought of an easy option. My parents
are staying in the other end of the city and what I can easily do is to grant three days' leave to
Bachchu, so that he could visit his native place and I can stay with my parents. When I had almost
decided about this, I felt sorry that I would miss my massage. Even if I keep aside the erotic
components in it, surely I enjoyed the massage, which Bachchu had given to me. Then ? Am I going to
stay here ? Am I going to have the massage sessions with Bachchu ? Like yesterday ? Should I put
that as the limit ? Or... ? Again, again I was losing control. Why should I be so afraid of the
society ? My daydreaming, fantasies and tensions got abruptly halted when there was a knock at my
bedroom door. "Masima, won't you have your breakfast now ?", Bachchu came and asked. I looked at
the watch. Surely, it was time to take something. "Yes, just two pieces of toast with butter and
tea", I said. After brushing my teeth, I came to the breakfast table. Bachchu had kept everything
ready. I tried to concentrate on my eating. But, from my sixth sense, which is normally very strong
with the ladies, I knew that he was looking at me. That look was no doubt different from how he
used to look at me before yesterday's happenings. He was looking at my shoulders and also at my
breasts, where he massaged so passionately yesterday. Out of a sheer feminine instinct, I
re-adjusted my saree's protection above my blouse, but honestly speaking, wasn't I mischievously
enjoying his stare ? Bachchu turned on the ceiling fan, as I was visibly sweating, apparently
because of the sultry weather and the sips from steaming hot tea, but definitely, the heat of
passion within my body had a lot of contributions to it. Bachchu didn't have much of work in the
morning. My husband was away and I had to use up the accumulated foodstuff in the refrigerator.
Rather than cooking new items, I instructed him to clean the kitchen thoroughly. I too joined hands
with him, so that everything could be properly organised according the housewife's likings and also
to hasten the process, so that could start my massage early. I felt restless. I wanted him to start
the massage as early as he could, although I had to pretend that I was the lady of the house and I
mean business first. We were in the middle of the cleaning process, when the doorbell rang. It was
Aparna-di, one of our elderly neighbours. She is a very nice lady and I too like her. Her only
problem, if any, is her talkative habit. Whenever I have anything important to do and she visits my
house, I always wish that she shouldn't start some long stories and would rather leave early
enough. But, if she is in the right kind of mood, you can't stop him and it would look rather
discourteous and awkward to get up, mind your own business and ignore her. At least, I can never do
that and I have to remain as a passive listener, whether I like it or not. "Ohhh, .... Raja has
gone on tour and are you alone now ?" I could make out from her enthusiasm that she felt I had all
the time in the world to listen to her long long stories. "Okay, why don't you come over to my
house and let's have our lunch there ....", she invited me. " And also endless chat ?", I wanted to
add, but of course, I didn't. No, I was surely not prepared to spend the rest of the morning and
afternoon with Aparna-di. "Not today, Aparna-di ! I have just started clearing the mess from my
kitchen. It's a huge task. And Bachchu alone won't be able to do it." "Okay, I understand. Maybe
tomorrow or the day after", she said. I wished she forgets about it. She talks so much that she
even forgets what she says. I wanted to cash on this advantage. "You know, I was eager to tell you
something ,....."she started. "Oh, no, don't tell me" would have been my spontaneous response, but
I had to keep quiet and be a passive listener, for the sake of courtesey and neighbourly relations.
I tried to devote attention to what she said, but all the time, erotic massage was going on in my
mind. I was looking at the kitchen, where Bachchu was busy arranging things. What a strong young
man he is ! Effortlessly he could shift heavy things. I like strong men, I want them to be very
strong, so strong that I can feel the sensation of pain when a man squeezes my breasts or enters me
!!! Yes, again I was thinking about Bachchu and feeling the heat between my legs and in my whole
body.
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Occasionally, I was nodding my head and uttering "Hmmmm .......", just to pretend that I was
listening to Aparnadi's boaring stuff. "Tell me, doesn't it look bad ?" she asked me at one stage.
Believe me, I didn't pay any attention to what she was talking about and what was it that she was
trying to say "bad". It was foolish for me to express any opinion, but I had to. All that I could
make out was that she only wanted my approval. So, I said, "yes, yes, it surely looks bad" and I
was amazed by my own stupidity. "I knew you will also feel that way, but just see,
(----blah-----blah------)". So, at least, I could successfully hide my unmindfulness and felt a bit
relieved. In the meantime, the clock advanced beyond twelve and Bachchu had finished whatever he
was told to do in the kitchen. I felt that it was high time that I get my massage. "Let me see how
you arranged " I told Bachchu and went with him to the kitchen, clearly signalling Aparna-di that I
wanted her to leave. I don't know whether it was because of this discourteous act of mine, or
because, she herself got tired of nonstop talking that she said, "Okay, Nandita, do your work. I am
going now. Just drop in to my house, any time". "Sure, Aparna-di, I will. Bye", I said with full of
courtesey and politeness. Bachchu was ready with the oil. Like me, he too must have wanted
Aparna-di to leave. "Do we start ?" he asked in short. His voice wasn't normal. He must be
expecting to give me a massage like yesterday and feeling horny. He was visibly tense and I was
tempted to look at his pyjama. His cock had formed a tent there and I could find a spot of wetness
in that region. I was losing control. My hands were eager to touch the strong manhood of this
strong young man. But, I am the lady of the house and he is my servant.I must not give him a
feeling that I am in urgent need of a sex. At the same time, I wanted my lust to flourish under the
disguise of massage. Bachchu sat behind me. Maybe, he was much closer to me than the way he did on
the previous day. He again started with my hair, then my face, shoulders, arms and back. It was
wonderful ! It was the best type of feeling I ever had. I felt I belonged to a new world of
pleasure. I completely surrendered myself to him as he took charge of me. He removed my earrings,
my mangal sutra, my bangles, my blouse and my bras - one after the other without any uneasiness
that was present on the previous day. When his hands at last rested on my eager breasts and was
pressing my hard erect nipples, I moaned loudly, expressing my passion, as he built up his
strengths more and more. He started squeezing my breasts, moving both his palms all over them to
make them slippery with oil.Should I give him a glance of what he has done to my breasts.The moment
this thought came to my mind, I felt my whole body getting baked in the heat of passion. No, not
now, I thought. When he finished massaging my top half, I was so deeply engrossed in pleasure that
it was difficult for me to leave it at that stage. I wanted more of it. Yes, in the lower part of
my body. Yes, I wanted it, rather I was dying for it. And, I had to say at last, "Bachchu, it's
wonderful. I can't stop here. Wouldn't you do it more today ?" I almost begged with lust. Now, I
turned to him. My breasts were exposed. He was too excited and speechless. Maybe, he never dreamt
of this situation in a lady-boyservant relationship. Nor did I, but it was. At that moment, I was
ready to gift my body to him. I looked at his tent. It was steadily going up and up. The region in
his pyjama was getting more and more soaked with increased pumping of his juice. It's a human body.
Our mind may understand taboos, morality, inhibitions and other forbidden aspects, but body
doesn't. When a river is desparate to break its embankments, you can't stop it. And in moments,
when the lust is too strong, your mind won't listen to you. The desparate river will wash away the
dams that you may like to construct. I wanted to touch his throbbing cock. But immediately felt
that at least he must complete the message before anything gets out of control. There was a small
divan in our living room. Bachchu asked me to lie down on my stomach. My saree was almost
unwrapped. I took out the folds of my saree underneath the petticoat and removed it completely
before lying down on the divan. My petticoat was the only garment that covered the lower part of my
body and I didn't wear any panties, while I am at home. After I lay down on my stomach, Bachchu had
to start his next part of the job. "Masima, eta ki thakbe ?"(Madam, will it be there on your body
?) he asked with a clumsy voice, pointing to my petticoat. My sexual tensions were at its peak, but
still I hesitated for a moment to directly answer. Certainly, Bachchu was not courageous enough to
remove my last piece of garment without my verbal consent. I was silent. My cunt was quivering and
I felt that all my juices would now burst out of it. I desparately wanted my petticoat out of my
body. Still I was silent. What was holding me up ? Social norms, taboo, age difference ? Perhaps
everything and perhaps nothing. Bachchu started massaging lower part of my waist, while the
petticoat was still on. "Na khul le ki kore korbi ?"(How will you do it unless it is removed ?) I
tried to keep my voice steady, but it obviously betrayed, as the fire within me was on. Bachchu's
fingers reached the knot of the petticoat string. I helped him to unfasten it and the rest was done
by him. He pulled my petticoat down and down further, below my buttocks, thighs, legs and toes. He
took out the ornament from my legs. I was completely naked, there wasn't even a piece of thread
attached to my body, it was the body that God had gifted to me, with nothing more added to it.
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