Bachchu's
fingers slowly approached my neck. I was wearing a mangalsutra (a kind of gold necklace with black
beads - a sign of married Indian ladies) and perhaps that was causing a bit of hindrance to his
massage. He asked me if I would remove my mangalsutra. Unlike other Indian ladies, I am free from
any prejudice and I willingly unhooked that from my neck. Bachchu took it from me and carefully put
it on the bedside desk. He could then massage my throat and the neck region without any
obstruction. After this, Bachchu took my right palm in his hand and gently rubbed it with his palm.
Then he individually massaged each of my fingers. He was doing everything with such a great care
that I had a great feeling of liking from within. He repeated the same things with my left palm. He
was all the time talking to me and that must have helped in making the atmosphere easy. I was
having pink nail polish on my nails. Bachchu smiled and joked, "Mashima, everything is pink for you
today." With the oil on it, those were glittering. The next item of massage was surely my hands.
Bachchu removed all my bangles from my hand. Even the "sankha" and "pala" (a special kind of bangle
used by married Bengali ladies) were off my hands. He then rubbed my hands with force, sometimes
pressing and kneading. I could sense that my blood flow was increasing and I was feeling hot, even
though the ceiling fan was revolving right above my head. Bachchu gathered greater and greater
strength and continued to massage my hands upto the elbows for some more time. My blouse was
covering rest of my hands. When his fingers moved above my elbows, he softly whispered in my ears,
"Mashima, apnar blouse ta --"(madam, your blouse please). I guessed because of his shyness he
couldn't complete the sentence, but I could clearly get the signal that he wanted my blouse
removed. Although, I was under this tension for a long time before my massage, when the moment
came, I was so much engrossed in the massage that I didn't hesitate to remove it. I unbuttoned the
blouse from the front and Bachchu helped me to take it out of my hands. I had a bra inside and I
covered the exposed parts of my back with the pallu (the upper part) of my saree. Bachchu's fingers
could now freely move above my elbows, right upto my shoulder joints and arm pits. He was saying
that my hands were too soft and massaged them with greater strength and energy. I was having
increased blood circulation and wanted him to continue the massage in this manly way. He then
rubbed my shoulders and uncovered my pallu to the extent that he could completely massage the upper
area of my back. He asked me how I was feeling. I admitted that the massage was bringing great
comforts to me and he was surely doing a great job. While he was massaging my back and especially
my pain region, I suddenly felt that all my pain had suddenly gone. It was just incredible. I was
deeply engrossed and I didn't even bothered to protest, as Bachchu's trembling fingers unhooked my
brassier strap at the back. GOD !! I was never prepared for this. Bachchu slowly removed my bras,
as I tried to protect my boobs with my saree.

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 My servant was sitting behind me and could freely
massage all over my bare back. He started gently with my spinal chord and the regions around it and
massaged with force when he came to the sides of my back. At one stage, I felt that his fingers
were quite close to me breasts. I was wondering what would happen, if his fingers accidentally
touched my breasts ! The moment this fear came to my mind, my heart started throbbing. I was torn
between embarrassment and arousal. I realized I was getting horny - my face was getting red, my
eyes were burning, my pulse rate was increasing and I started getting a sexy sensation between my
legs. I knew that given the employer-servant relationship between us, Bachchu would never dare to
touch me there. But, somehow, at that moment, all my sexual desires, which were absent for the past
few months got revived. I desparately wanted a male hand to touch me there. For the first time, I
dared to have a dirty fantasy of my servant grabbing my breasts. GOD !! What am I doing ? Am I
forgetting all social norms and taboos ? Am I still in my senses ? I realized all my powers of
arguments, powers of thinking were gone. At that moment I only wanted a hard male squeezing of my
breasts. I was desparately waiting for an accident to happen. But no! No accident was happening !
His hands were still keeping a modest distance. I was getting restless for a touch. At one stage, I
just pointed fingers to my boobs and asked with a husky, trembling voice, "Wouldn't you massage me
here ? " I turned my face to him. The twenty year old young man blushed and looked red. I tried to
look at his pyjama. His swollen cock made it a tent and I could make out how horny he was. That
made me more excited. I was trying to visualize his erect manhood inside his pyjamas and felt that
my hot cunt started tingling strangely and I could sense my molten cunt cream after a prolonged
period of abstenance from sex. " Masima, I --I thought you wouldn't allow me to do it there --" he
was clearly stammering in excitement and fear. "No, no, you are a very good boy. Why should I mind
? Afterall, it's a massage isn't it ?" , I tried to assure. Bachchu could not wait any longer. He
oiled his palm again and pressed my breasts. GOD ! Was I cheating my husband ? I surely was. I was
married for 15 years. It was for the first time in my married life that a person other than my
husband had taken control of my breasts. "Ohh ...! Squeeze it .... ! Squeeze it more ...!" that's
what I wanted to shout, but I tried to apply my control. Bachchu was faithfully oiling my breasts.
My hard nipples, the black circle surrounding that and all over. He was doing with his both hands-
sometimes softly, sometimes tightly, giving a different sensation at every moment. GOD ! Who taught
him to be a lover like this ? Nature ? I wondered. For the first time, I started making verbal
expressions. "Don't feel shy - do it nicely, a---h just like this !!" Bachchu was too excited to
talk to me. He faithfully obliged and drove me wild with greater and greater ecstasies.

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