My Indian Maid: 7 Months On

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


It was the middle of July 2008; the monsoon rains were lashing the city as they were most of the country, coming in heavy cascading showers through the days and nights. When the rain stopped, as it did every now and then, the skies were laden with dark black clouds impregnated with water just waiting to be released. If, as on occasion, the sun managed to pierce through this blanket of obscurity, the streets would steam and the air become humid with moisture.

Sunita had now been working for almost seven months with Hjjer and she was immensely happy. She enjoyed her work keeping the house spic and span, she loved cooking for her Sahib whenever he was home to eat, she washed his clothes and ironed them, and she kept him company when he was free. She had also grown to love her master immensely, still unable to come to terms with the perfect gentleman that he was. She thought of the other men that had passed through her life and how they weren’t worthy even of being considered a speck of dust on his boots. And to some extent, she thought, he loved her too. He was very nice to her, very caring and showed much concern.

[flashback] She thought lovingly of that one evening more than three months ago when Sunita felt that a certain barrier had been crossed in her relationship with Sahib, her master. For some strange reason a great sense of despondency had overtaken her that day.

The day had started well; it was a weekend, perhaps a Saturday and Sahib had woken up at his usual hour. They had both had a heavy breakfast because on weekends they skipped lunch. Sahib had, as was his wont, asked her to sit at the table and join him for the meal. But, as always, she had smiled and refused. When he had first asked her to dine at the table with her a few days after she started work, she was absolutely shocked. In fact she believed that she had misunderstood the master’s words but later realised he was serious. She of course said no, and had maintained that stand ever since.

Firstly, she could not even think of such a social intrusion on an upper class gentleman. Secondly, and this she explained to him, she had to keep getting hot food, particularly the chapattis that he liked so much. He argued but finally gave up, although it didn’t stop him from continuing to try and convince her.

So that weekend, after breakfast, Sahib sat on his terrace since it was still very pleasant, the last of the winter season, sipping his beer. She finished some preparations for the evening meal and then went for her weekly hair wash that would take a while, given how long and thick her hair was. She was almost sure that Sahib often stared at her wondrously, as though simply enjoying the beauty of her face. She was also almost certain that on occasion he ogled her, catching glimpses of her cleavage disappearing down her blouse, or the profile of her breast when the saree wasn’t appropriately draped. But she did not mind; in fact she enjoyed the fact that Sahib looked at her with what seemed like longing.

When she went in for her bath, she kept thinking these thoughts. As she stripped out of her blouse, saree and petticoat, she wondered why Sahib had not made any overt pass at her as yet. As she took off her brassiere and panties in the bathroom, she looked at her full bodied figure in the full length mirror and thought of him touching her. She knew he would be gentle with her; he would caress her body with no roughness; so why after all these weeks of living together had he not approached her. She thought she would happily have given herself up to him.

As Sunita ran her hands over her breasts, her nipples hardened. She pinched them a little harder and felt them swell to tight knobs on her massive boobs as her aureoles puckered. She ran her hands over her flat stomach and down to the edge of her thick lush pubic overgrowth, twirling the curly strands around her fingers. As she pushed her hands lower still through the forested triangle, the tips of her fingers touched her cunt and she gasped, pushing a little deeper inside till she felt the full wetness of her soaking pussy. She pictured her master standing next to her with his thick penis erect, perhaps nudging against her buttocks, trying to push its way between her thighs.

[further flashback] She had seen him naked the day she started work. Sunita remembered how the door to the apartment had been slightly open and unlocked when she returned from Anu’s house with her suitcase of clothes and a bag with some other belongings. When she entered without knocking or ringing the doorbell, Sahib was lying on his bed, unaware of her arrival. Because his head was towards the door, she was not even in his peripheral vision. But as she left her luggage by the door and walked into his bedroom, she saw he was asleep.

It was dark inside and her initial feeling was one of concern for her new master, but as she walked past the doorframe and peered over an obstructing table lamp, concern gave way to disbelief and astonishment. Sahib had his Rize Escort fist gripped around a massive penis, or at least it seemed to be huge. She was mesmerised, unable to take her eyes away from the view. She watched silently and thought that his cock had a tremendous girth; it seemed even his man’s fist could barely encircle it. And he was stroking it, moving his hand along the full length of the stiffness, then pushing down all the way to the base revealing a fiery red tip.

As Sunita stared, unable to turn around and leave, Sahib kept rubbing his cock, sometimes cupping his testicles; she saw a finger rub the fine liquid drop of pre-cum around the flaming helmet, unsheathed. Within minutes she felt a burning between her legs and a swelling of her breasts. Involuntarily a hand rose to her boobs, rubbing the nipples through the blouse and bra. Her other hand clutched at the folds of her saree around her cunt; then she lifted the fabric up along her thighs and pushed her hand into her panties. Her fingers struggled past the lush undergrowth of her cunt hair as they dived towards her hot wet hole. She touched her clitoris, now erect and protruding from under its hood, and almost screamed.

She kept rubbing herself, unconsciously maintaining the same rhythm as her master stroking his cock. It seemed he would increase his tempo, taking him to the edge, then slow down and bring his breathing to a more sedate level. She was wondering whom or what he was dreaming of, for she was almost sure he was not awake, at least not wide awake. Every now and then a small groan would escape his lips and she wanted so much to hear that deep rumble against her ear. She finger fucked herself hard as his tempo picked up pace, a scream dying to break out of her mouth but she bit firmly on her lips to keep silent.

Then, abruptly he pulled all the skin down hard to the base of his penis, was absolutely still for half a second, and a colossal amount of semen shot out of the tip of his cock high into the air. That was followed by yet another long rope of cum, and then again, and yet again. She had never seen or even dreamed that a man can spurt so much semen at any one given time. Much of it was now flooding his bare torso, forming thick white pools on his chest and stomach before turning into rivulets that drained over the sides on to the bed sheet he lay on. Her own orgasm was strangely simultaneous; at the exact same moment of her new master’s first thick rope of cum, Sunita’s pussy contracted into a tight grip around her fingers and she felt her orgiastic release as more liquid flowed from her cunt. Two or three such vaginal contractions later, she hurriedly dropped her saree and tip-toed back to the apartment entrance. Dragging her luggage outside, she silently pushed the door shut and it locked with a gentle click.

She had stood outside, feeling weak at the knees and completely hazy in the head. Sunita stayed in that state of bewilderment for a few minutes before ringing the doorbell and waited for her Sahib to open the door.[further flashback ends]

Now, about four months later, as she stood under the shower in her bathroom, she thought of how flushed Sahib looked when he opened the door. Maybe even a little embarrassed. But she kept her cool, saying sorry if she had disturbed him. But Sahib had said “No, no, you’re perfectly on time. Please come in” and he had helped by carrying her suitcase to her new bedroom and actually getting a glass of water for her to drink. “Would you like some hot chai?” he asked, but she had said no. Sunita had started falling in love with her master from the morning of her interview itself, and this episode seven hours later was just another step towards the inevitable.

As the water gushed out of the shower and caressed her body, she remembered in full detail the events of her first day at work with Hjjer. But almost three months later, that fourth Saturday of March when she was recalling that first day, Sunita was sexually turning herself on again. She suddenly realised that Sahib would be waiting for her so she decided to stop her mental manoeuvring and get on with her bath and head-wash. However, her love for Hjjer had grown tremendously and she felt wonderful towards him on that day. So she hurried through her bath and made up her mind to do something special for Sahib.

She decided to wear a pyjama-kurta (pajama and long shirt) set and to let her hair down, literally. Sahib had not seen her in anything but a saree and had always seen her hair neatly tucked into a large bun on her head. After she finished with her bath, she dried herself with one of the large white towels that Sahib had bought for her. As she rubbed herself all over, the roughness of her rub down began to titillate her senses again; her nipples hardened into large protrusions and her breasts ached a little, an ache of longing. She wiped her bushy undergrowth dry but felt the burning within. Looking at herself one last time in the mirror, liking what she saw, Rize Escort Bayan she drew on a pair of frilly panties and slipped into her pyjama bottom. Reaching for her brassiere, she suddenly decided against wearing one and slipped into her kurta instead. Then, bunching her long wet hair on top of her head, she wrapped the towel around it and stepped out of the bathroom.

Her master was lolling in his reclining chair with his eyes shut as she walked up to him. She stared down at his handsome face for a while and then asked if he was alright. The sahib’s eyes flew open and then, as though awestruck, he just stared at her. Initially Sunita felt a little embarrassed but soon understood that her master was absorbing the sight of her in something other than a saree. She returned to the bathroom to hang up her towel and then walked back to her Sahib. She knew he liked what he saw but she asked him anyway. But he still seemed dumbfounded, a strange look, mesmerised. She had let down her hair so that it now hung in long loose wet strands all the way down to her thighs.

Sahib kept calling her beautiful once he regained his composure, and her love for him overflowed. Then he reached for her hand, holding it very gently for a while, and after a few seconds she felt a slight tug on her wrist; he wanted her to sit next to him on the recliner. She lowered herself, perched tentatively on the chair and immediately felt the heat and electricity from his body. They were touching, albeit with clothing over their skin. It felt warm and comfortable; she wanted more. But then she thought of him as her master, as a man with high social upbringing, the perfect man.

No other man she had met or had an encounter with was a patch on this gorgeously handsome and perfect gentleman. Like flashes of lightening, thoughts of the brief sexual snatches she had in the past with men bolted through her brain. The mutual masturbation with Raja on the train to Delhi two years ago, the stranger on the bus during her first year in the city, the man that assaulted and forced her to give him a blowjob that dark night in the village, even her fantasy men to which she masturbated…; all seemed so insignificant, so small in the brightness of Sahib’s aura.

How many of these men, or any man for that matter, would have resisted their basic animal urges with a woman that resided in their house day and night. Sunita was absolutely sure that no man in this position would have left her untouched, unassaulted, and pure for such a long time. Her master was from heaven, and once again she thanked the gods for this blessing. She was beginning to realise that her presence in the house with Hjjer must be a very difficult and frustrating experience for him. She thought that unwittingly, she must be such a tease for him to bear. Even now, dressing for him, letting her hair open like her master wanted, all this must be so difficult for the poor soul.

Her heart felt heavy and a deep sorrow overtook her. She reached for her Sahib’s face, gently resting her palm against his cheek. She traced the sharp features of his jaw and chin, felt the stubble of his unshaven face, and a heavy sob escaped from her bosom. Her eyes began to water and the sadness was suddenly overpowering. She started apologising profusely to Sahib, saying sorry but not explaining herself. She only thought of how much she must have stressed her beautiful Sahib; he was too good a man to force himself on her sexually, and she was too stuck in her caste and class consciousness to have ever suggested it despite having wanted to.

But now, her continued apologies and her tears had worried Sahib, and she felt still worse because of that. He sat up and put his feet on the ground, sitting beside her asking what had happened, what had gone wrong. And then he said he was sorry if he had done something bad or something wrong. When he said that, Sunita heaved a huge sob, trying to suppress her tears but she knew she would burst out into a crying fit very soon. Although Sahib was obviously deeply concerned, he even placed a hand on her shoulder and spoke tenderly into her ear; she stood up and rushed into her room. She didn’t know how to handle this sudden burst of passionate sentiment, further compounded by her master thinking to take the blame on to himself.

She shut her bedroom door behind her and fell on to her bed, curling herself into a near foetus position, heaves racking her as she tried to slow down her breathing. She loved the man outside the door, the man who had given her everything she ever wanted, the man that looked after her, the man that protected her even from himself. And it had only just struck her how her very existence in his presence was sheer cruelty to the man. And she had left him without explanation. But she couldn’t get herself to face him just then. She cried herself out, tiring her brain and her body, and then she slept.

When she awoke a couple of hours later, she washed herself and stepped out of her Escort Rize room, still unsure of what she would tell her master. She recalled that she had blurted out to him something like “You must have a wife”, suggesting that his masculine needs and desires must be satisfied. He had apparently abstained from sex ever since she came into the house; no guests, female guests, had stayed overnight although Bahadur had told her that occasionally Annie madam from the hotel would visit. They were good friends, and she had come over on two occasions when Sahib had a small party, but she had not stayed for the night.

Sunita knew that Sahib masturbated, she had seen him that first day when she joined work, and she had noticed the bulge in his pants more than once, but that was no way for a man to live; especially a man so handsome and strong, a man with such a large penis must surely need release. When she came out of her room, she saw the house was empty. Her master had left the house, but the car keys still lay on the table which meant he must have gone for a walk. But she did not know how long ago he left and for how long she would have to wait for his return.

But she didn’t have to wait long. Sahib returned within 20 minutes; he asked her how she was feeling, made sure she was well, then told her that he was going in for a shower after which he had a dinner appointment. He told her to eat her supper and not wait up for her since he may be a little late. And with that brief conversation, he went into his bedroom to shower and change. Half an hour later, her master had left the house.

Sunita was strangely disoriented with this turn of events. She felt that Sahib had been polite but distant, and she wondered if he was upset because of her. In fact, she was sure that he was upset because of her but was too fine a person to show any outward signs of anger. She wondered if he was going to have dinner with Annie madam and began to feel oddly jealous of her. Would Sahib spend the night with her or would they have sex. Sunita had seen Annie and knew she was a stunningly beautiful woman, very high class, and gorgeously built with big firm breasts and a narrow waist. The jealousy seemed to amplify with these thoughts.

She also felt a little relief because she hadn’t had to explain her behaviour to the master; she didn’t know how to tell him that she realised the torture she was putting him through. And she didn’t know how to offer herself to him. She wanted to talk to her sister-in-law Anu about the situation but knew Anu’s stand; she would not condone these thoughts nor would she offer a way to approach her master’s bed. Instead, she busied herself with household chores, ate a little dinner, watched some TV, put out Sahib’s night clothes on his bed, left his bedside lamp on, and retired to her room.

Sunita normally didn’t, couldn’t, sleep till Sahib came home. She watched TV till about 11 o’clock and then went and lay down on her bed without changing her clothes. In a few minutes she had dosed into a fitful and restless sleep, confused dreams of her master, her childhood, her village, swirled in her mind. Much later, some time close to 2:00 in the morning she awoke with a start, hearing a fumbling at the lock to the apartment. She knew immediately Sahib was back and he was probably drunk; unable to find the keyhole because he almost certainly hadn’t switched on the landing light. After a few moments, she heard the door open and got out of bed. Although her own bedroom lights were off, she saw her master stumble into the house, push the door shut and stagger into his own room.

She had left the bedside lamp on and now saw him kick his shoes off, pull the shirt off his back, yank out his belt, unbutton his trousers and let it drop to his feet. Sitting on the bed, he struggled to get his feet out of his jeans before walking in his underwear to the bathroom, taking the tracksuit bottom she had left on the bed for him. Sunita crept out of her room and locked the apartment door which Hjjer always ignored to do. Then she hastily checked to make sure that there was drinking water by Sahib’s bedside, and quietly went back to her bedroom, leaving the door open slightly. She waited till her master finished brushing his teeth, as he did every night, and then crawl into his bed, leaving the bathroom light on and the door partially ajar. He never bothered to shut his own bedroom door.

Sunita lay back on her bed but was unable to sleep, thoughts of the day going through her mind. Added to her concern for Sahib’s lack of sexual release over the months was the new one about the possibility of him being angry with her on account of her behaviour this afternoon. After almost an hour or restless tossing and turning, she got out of bed quite purposefully and walked silently to her master’s bedroom.

“Sahib?” she said hesitatingly. Then again, a bit louder, “Sahib?” She called out twice more, louder each time, coming all the way over beside the bed. Then she touched his leg that stuck out from under the covers with a finger, lightly at first and then harder, and we he still didn’t respond she lightly shook his knee back and forth. She could smell the alcohol faintly and thought that her master was completely out for the count.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bir cevap yazın