I made my way sneakily downstairs towards the servants' quarters, careful not to make any noise. Just like for the past four months, it was something I now found myself doing repeatedly more or less every other night, much to my shame and chagrin. As I approached our man servant Bhola's bedroom, the noises that were coming from behind the door was getting louder and louder.
* * *
I began to blush, both with shame and humiliation, but also with distinct arousal. An arousal that I could not explain, but also could not deny, as my penis started to harden. The shame and humiliation, of course, was because of what was happening behind that door. I carefully knelt by the door, swallowed, and put an ear to the keyhole.
Creak! Squeak!
Creak! Squeak!
The noises were loud now, and very audible. The old bed in Bhola's room was rocking back and forth, squeaking and its hinges creaking. My servant Bhola was having loud, unbridled, raw, passionate sex, and I could hear his naked skin slapping against someone else's naked skin. The lady that my servant was furiously fucking began to moan loudly, as her pleasure intensified.
"Oh, Bhola!" She murmured. "Oh, my dear Bhola. You are so good!"
A familiar sense of warm humiliation came over me as I heard my wife moan, even as the squeaking of the bed springs became more and more frequent. Yes, the lady that my servant was banging, the lady inside whose cunt Bhola's large dick was ploughing in and out, that lady was the love of my life - my own dear sweet wife of many years, Neetu.
"Oh Bhola! Oh, BHOLA!"
Neetu was unable to control herself, even as waves of pleasure washed over her. She kept taking on our servant's name even as he kept humping her. She was quite loud too, and sometimes I wondered how far the sounds would carry out of the window from Bhola's room. Bhola was on the ground floor, and his window faced the street. Even though we had a fence that covered the house, anyone on the street walking beside the fence could have listened in. Not that anyone was walking at 2 am in the morning, but still.
Creak! Squeak!
Creak! Squeak!
The rhythmic creaking of the bed frame added to my humiliation, indicating to me that my wife Neetu was again being deeply penetrated by Bhola, my servant's extremely large dick burrowing into my wife's cunt, and from her moans and murmurs I could make out that she was loving every moment of it. As always.
Creak! Squeak!
Creak! Squeak!
The bed was rocking, just like every other night when Bhola fucked my wife.
"Ohh-h B-b-bhola! I love your big dick!" Neetu called out in passion to our hung servant. "Harder! AAAH! Oh, I love you, Bhola."
There was a slight pause, which I later understood was Bhola stopping his fucking and raising a hand.
SLAP!
The noise was sharp, but not too loud. Bhola had struck my wife across her face, but not too hard. He slapped her again.
SLAP!
Recently he was slapping her a lot during their love making.
SLAP!
"Memsaab. You make too much noise!" Bhola, now hardly behaving like a servant, grunted in reply. He then ordered, "Kiss me, memsaab."
"Oh, yes, Bhola. I am sorry, Bhola."
I heard them kiss loudly, my wife slobbering all over him in her passion. Bhola then resumed the fucking as he continued to plough into her.
Creak! Squeak!
Creak! Squeak!
"Ungh! Ungh! Oh Bhola!" My wife was moaning louder and louder now, despite the risk of getting slapped again. "I love you!"
Even Bhola began to thrust into her more urgently. I tried peeing though the keyhole, but I couldn't really make out what was happening as the lights were off. I knew lately that Bhola had started to get a little bit rougher with my wife, such as slapping her more and more, but I still couldn't see inside the room.
However, the noises emanating through the keyhole made it crystal clear what was happening inside behind the locked door.
"Oh, Bhola!" Neetu gasped. "Oh my God! It's... so... big! I'm cumming!!"
Creak! Squeak!
Creak! Squeak!
The bed continued to creak as Bhola continued to bang her, even as my wife began her orgasm.
"Aaah! Aaaaah! Oh YES! OH FUCK! Aaaaah!"
Neetu kept grunting. The bedsprings were squeaking furiously as she received Bhola's thrusts. The bed was now hitting the wall hard, and the springs sounded as if they were going to break. Bhola seemed to be fucking my wife hard and fast now.
Creak! Squeak!
Creak! Squeak!
"Memsaab." Suddenly Bhola spoke. "I am going to cum."
SMOOCH!
I heard my wife loudly and sloppily plant some kisses on our servant.
"Oh, Bhola. Cum in me."
As if he was seeking her permission!
Creak! Squeak!
Creak! Squeak!
The creaking of the bed become louder and louder.
"Oh YESSS!! AAAH! AHHH!!" Neetu was quite vocal now, and loud. "Oh Bhola! I love you, Bhola. Please, cum in me. Oh, Bhola!!
I heard Bhola groan loudly. It was a sound I was familiar with before, having listened to this same scene every night.
"AAAAAAHHHH!"
The bed was now rocking fast.
Creak! Squeak!
Creak! Squeak!
No doubt, Bhola was now ejaculating into my wife. My dear wife Neetu's fertile womb was now being filled by seed from a man who was not her husband but our servant Bhola.
Again.
Neetu was silent, occasionally letting out a grunt as Bhola flexed his buttocks from time to time, pumping more and more of his seed inside her. I then heard her kiss our servant again.
SMOOCH!
"Oh, Bhola. Oh, my love." Neetu was moaning, even as Bhola continued to pump his semen into her. "I love you. Oh, that was amazing."
Usually this was the time I made my way back to our bedroom, got into bed and pretended to be asleep. My wife would no doubt make her way back to our bedroom soon. But, as I stood outside, I didn't hear any of them move. Surely, they - Bhola and my wife - weren't thinking of going another round?
They were!
I had to wait nearly twenty-five minutes before I heard the bed move again.
"Bhola, please put on more of the oil." I heard my wife tell her lover. "And remember to be gentle. You have a big cock. Quite big. Much bigger than my husband."
"Yes, memsaab, I know! Anyone who fucks you has a cock larger than your husband, memsaab!"
There was the sound of laughter as both my wife and her lover laughed at my small size. I stood there, embarrassed, humiliated, but also very aroused. Again. Bhola was going to fuck my wife in the ass! That was something she had always said disgusted her, and she never wanted to even try it with me! And here she was, bending over for my servant.
I heard more rustling noises on the bed, and the soft creaking of the springs.
"Gentle. Slow." Neetu was directing our servant, as if instructing him in the kitchen as a boss rather than in the bedroom as a lover.
"Yes, memsaab, don't worry. Your big gaand can take it." Bhola replied, and then he must have raised his hand again, because the next two sounds I heard were him smacking my wife's ass loudly.
SPANK!
"You have such a nice butt, memsaab." Bhola told my wife. "I want to spank you all day!"
SPANK!
"You do spank me all day, Bhola!" My wife replied. "Yesterday, in the kitchen! You made me bend over the counter and then you spanked me while my husband was in the next room!"
SPANK!
"Ah, yes," Bhola laughed. "What an idiot, your husband!"
SPANK!
"Oh, Bhola." My wife crooned. "Please be gentle with me, na! You now slap me, spank me..."
SPANK!
"And I fuck you." Bhola grunted. "In your pussy and your ass, memsaab."
"Yes, Bhola, that you do."
SPANK!
"Why do you let me do it, memsaab?" I heard Bhola laugh. "You are a married woman, from a respectable class and family. And here you are, in your servant's bed, getting fucked in the ass, getting a spanking on your ass from your servant, while your husband sleeps soundly upstairs."
SPANK!
SPANK!
My wife didn't reply as our servant continued to spank her.
"This is because you are slut, memsaab." Bhola told her. "You were always a slut. You just had to get fucked by me to know it."
SPANK!
"I... I...I am a slut. I... I belong to you now, Bhola." My wife finally replied. "My ass... my pussy. Oh Bhola! Please... fuck me now!"
SPANK!
SPANK!
"And I will slap you. And spank you."
Creak! Squeak!
My wife didn't reply. Slowly and slowly, Bhola must have pushed more and more of his dick into her ass and must have started to hump her.
Creak! Squeak!
The rhythmic creaking of the bed frame intensified. This time Neetu's vocalizations were much clearer.
Creak! Squeak!
"Ooooh Bhola!" I heard my wife cry out. "Slower, please. Slower! Aaaah, nehi! Don't get so excited. Please use some more oil, meri jaan!"
"Yes, memsaab, sorry about that."
She called him 'meri jaan', a term of endearment that she usually reserved for me. I heard him spank her again.
SPANK!
SPANK!
"Oh, Bhola." I heard my wife utter. "You are so deep inside me now."
"Brace yourself, memsaab." Bhola replied. "You are such a nice slut. Letting your servant screw you in the ass."
Creak! Squeak!
Creak! Squeak!
He was fucking her earnestly now. My wife Neetu was bravely taking it in her butt. The noise of the bed was frantic - I hoped the bed wasn't going to break.
Creak! Squeak!
Creak! Squeak!
"Oh, Bhola! Oh, Bhola! Aaaaangh! Aaaaangh!"
Neetu was now moaning... or crying. I could imagine her face contorted, and her breasts slapping back and forth as our servant pushed himself from back in and out, in and out, in and out, in and out, in and out, of her asshole.
"Oh, Bhola! BHOLA!" Neetu now let out a tremendous noise as she started to climax. "Oh, Bhola."
SPANK!
SPANK!
I knew Bhola wouldn't be able to hold out much longer as he smacked my wife's buttocks loudly.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
Once again, I heard that familiar guttural sound. My servant was at this moment squirting a good quantity of his semen into my wife's rectum.
"Oh, Bhola!" Neetu could only mumble as her own orgasm subsided. "Oh, Bhola."
* * *
I guess I better start at the beginning.
It was a just a little bit less than three years ago. In fact, I remember the exact date and time. It was just 1230 pm and I was in the office, eating my lunch, when I noticed that I had a new email in my inbox. It was forwarded to me by my wife Neetu. As I read the email, I paused, and then put my sandwich on my table, my appetite temporarily lost.
It was an email from the fertility clinic. We had just visited the famous clinic of Dr. Das in Delhi last week. After years of trying for a kid, we figured we might need a little help. The results were now in front of me.
My wife was perfectly healthy. There was nothing wrong with her at all. When it came to me, however, the report wasn't that good. The technical term was oligospermia, or low sperm count. Apparently, there was a natural chance we could conceive naturally, but it was a very low probability. Something about dilated testicular veins. The treatment was there, but it was expensive, and success was not guaranteed.
I read my wife's note attached to the report.
"I love you, Gopal. Come home tonight, and we can talk about it."
I continued to read the report, especially the sections that my wife highlighted.
Artificial insemination was an option, but this was India, and it was expensive. Very expensive. Not to mention, it was a taboo topic. What it really meant was that I would allow another man's sperm to impregnate my wife. We could have a child, but the offspring would, biologically, not be mine. Was I prepared to deal with that?
I sighed and decided to call my wife. The report had actually been emailed in the morning, and I just happened to look at it now. I needed to talk to her.
"I am looking at the fertility clinic material." I told her. "It's too damn expensive, honey."
For a moment, my wife didn't say anything. If she was beside me, she would have clasped my hand. For a moment, none of us spoke.
"Look, darling." Neetu finally said. "We could go for the treatment. The doctor did say there is a chance we can conceive naturally. Low chance, yes, but a chance."
"I don't know." I was looking at the cost. I was still paying off my car and my student loan, and we had just purchased a house. A rather large house. And I didn't really want to fire our servant. This was India, and you needed hired help in the house.
"We can't get into that sort of expense right now." I spoke. 'Besides, if I go for the treatment, I have to take time off... and I can't really take time out now from my career. I was just promoted, you know."
"What about... what about..." My wife hesitated, and then blurted out, "What about artificial insemination, baby doll? It's expensive too, but not that much. We can afford it."
"Ya, I don't know about that." I mumbled. My wife didn't say anything for a while.
"Look." She finally said. "This is a lot to take in. Why don't you relax, come home in the evening, and we can discuss it."
"Sure." I hung up.
For the next few weeks, I was a little depressed, as you can expect. Initially Neetu didn't say much but comforted me. Slowly, as life returned to normal, and we got busy with day-to-day things, she started to talk about it, and our options.
I knew my wife Neetu talked to her mother Neelam. I mean I kept the news hidden from my side of the family, but Neetu shared everything with my mother-in-law.
"He just needs to eat more nuts." My mother-in-law advised. And thus began an almost weekly dose of some helpful advice that would go on for a couple of months.
"Have him drink milk every day."
"Oh, it must be goat milk, not cow milk."
"Did you visit this particular baba ji or this guru at this ashram? His blessing can cure anything. He's a devotee of Bholenath."
"Are you eating enough meat? Make sure he eats meat."
"You need to have sex on full moon nights."
"What position are you having sex in?"
In fact, soon my mother-in-law was more interested in our sex lives than me! As if I didn't have enough troubles, now every way I wanted to have sex was going to be dictated by her.
Having been married for some time, sex had now become routine for us.
"You need to spice it up." My mother-in-law said. "Then only your sperm will wake up."
Alas, of course, all of my mother-in-law's advice and fanciful theories amounted to nothing, and six months later we were no better off than before. Then one day my wife broached the topic again about alternate treatments.
"Honey, what do you think about artificial insemination!" She asked. "It is now very popular, and no one has to know!"
"I don't know, Neetu." I was honest in my reply. "How can I let someone else impregnate you!"
"It's not really 'someone else'!" She argued. "It's not like I am going to sleep with another man and have him knock me up!"
If only we knew then how foretelling her words would be!
Our situation started to affect our sex life, and our well being. I knew Neetu was unhappy, and though she tried not to blame me for our destiny, at some level there must have been some resentment. I couldn't blame her for it - every woman wants to be a mother.
Then one day a moment happened that really changed everything.
I was picking up Neetu from the grocery store and she was waiting for me outside. As I drove to the entrance, I saw her laughing. She was talking (and playing) with two young girls who were also waiting with their mother. Neetu looked so beautiful, so happy. Sometimes you have these moments that change your perspectives, and that was one of them.
"Hi darling." I said, as she got into the car. Neetu didn't say anything back but nodded. As we parked on our driveway, I turned to her and said, "Let's look into sperm donors."
Her eyes welled up and she immediately began to cry. We kissed a few more times, our hearts finally returning to each other.
"Are you sure?" Neetu asked me. "I was thinking... maybe you prefer to adopt?"
"No." I paused, and then added. "Neetu, I love you. And I want it to be your child. So that you are the mother. I want you to experience the whole experience of motherhood."
Neetu kissed me again.
"Let's go inside, darling." She said, her eyes sparkling. "It doesn't matter who the donor is, in my eyes the father will always be you."
Unknown to us, the father of our future first born was already inside our house.
* * *
"I think," Neetu said, as she brushed her hair, "Bhola has a crush on me."
I still remember that night. I was sitting in our bed, watched my wife Neetu get ready for bed. She was seated on a stool in front of her dressing table, brushing her luscious long locks. She was dressed in a pink nightie, and I could see the outline of her bra inside through the thin material of her nightdress, hiding her sizeable melons.
There was no other way to say it - Neetu was still a gorgeous woman. I was now forty-one, but Neetu was thirty-one, or ten years younger than me. We had been married for almost six years now. It was an arranged marriage, but it made every one of my friends jealous. They would see me, a near middle-aged man, a virgin, with a little potbelly who had remained single till I was thirty-five, and now suddenly I had a bombshell of a wife.
Neetu kept herself in shape by strict exercise and yoga. Even now, crossing thirty-one only recently, she still had a slim figure, big breasts, and a high reservoir of energy. The only thing that she worried about was that her butt that was always a little big. I told her not to worry about it at all - I actually liked women with a little bit in the trunk - but you know women. They worry about the silliest things. Neetu, in my eyes, was one of the most perfect Indian ladies, svelte figure but big breasts, and hips gradually widening leading to nice looking buttocks. Every time I thought of her, I wanted to fuck her.
It had been almost a year since those tests at the fertility clinic. So far we hadn't been able to find a donor, especially due to the cost. I also wanted someone who looked like me, and even the donor's parents to look like me, since I didn't want to ever explain the child's paternity and lineage to anyone. So far we hadn't found a practical match.
Now let me talk about Bhola.
Bhola was our man servant. He was now twenty-two years of age, and a young man from my village. When I had bought the house, my mother had called me to talk about Bhola's family, who were distantly related to us. They had recently lost everything due to a flood, and my mother wanted me to help. We also needed a servant, and I told her I can employ him for a year. He could live with us.
At first Neetu wasn't too happy having another man live in the house, but soon she became used to Bhola. Bhola had his own room and bathroom downstairs, and he was a very good servant. That one year became two years, and then three - and Bhola was still with us.
Neetu (and I) was by now very comfortable having Bhola in the house. Bhola was very obedient - in fact he was always scared and afraid of Neetu's anger. Neetu was of cheerful and smiling nature, but with servants she had always been authoritative. Neetu had the traditional class-oriented thinking - we were the upper class, and the servants were the lower class. Thus, it was their duty to serve and obey us.
Neetu treated Bhola as if he were a child who should listen to everything she says simply because Bhola was the servant. And Bhola did - which is why we grew to trust and like him a lot. From getting up early way before us, having our breakfast ready, especially the tea, to cleaning, cooking, dusting... Bhola did it all. He had really made our lives considerably easier.
Even though he was now twenty-two, Neetu hardly treated Bhola like an adult. An adult who had his own life, hobbies, and desires. Quite often I would hear Neetu reprimanding Bhola, and he would respond to her scolding and berating with lowered head. He never ever spoke back to my wife - something that I appreciated a lot. It was hard nowadays to get a respectful servant like that.
When Bhola had first entered our household, Neetu had dressed conservatively and carefully around him. Even going downstairs sometimes at night to get some water, she would dress in an overcoat, simply because Bhola might be there. Over time, she lost her inhibitions and grew comfortable around our servant. Nowadays she always wore nighties and maxis around the house, sometimes made of very thin translucent material. She would on occasion even not dress up, wearing her lingerie, and going down to the kitchen at night.
When we would be watching TV or simply relaxing in the living room, Neetu would be dressed in a gown that would expose her legs and calves, despite her conservative upbringing. Other times she wore saris very loosely so a lot of her waist or back was exposed, and since it "just Bhola" she wouldn't care. This was the level to which we trusted him and took no note of his presence at home. We all thought of him to be as harmless as a piece of furniture.
So, it was suddenly surprising to see Neetu say Bhola may have a crush on her.
"How do you figure that out?" I asked, curious.
Neetu came to bed and slithered next to me. She surprised me with a long kiss.
"He stares at my ass." Neetu confided. "When my back is turned to him, and he thinks I am not noticing, I have seen him ogling my... butt."
"Darling," I laughed, and kissed my wife again. "When you go out for a walk. Half the city admires your ass. They are the men. And the other half - the women - are jealous of your butt. What a gorgeous bottom you have!"
"You are very naughty." My wife scolded me playfully. We kissed again, and I could see that she was in the mood. "Also, there has been... other... signs."
"Like what?"
"Um... when I talk with him, nowadays, he gets very nervous, and tongue tied. And... I have seen him, try to catch a peek."
"Catch a peek?"
"Uff." My wife let out a sign of exasperation. "The other day I was wearing my low-cut nightie. You know... that one. And he was... his eyes... he couldn't stop staring."
It was too much for me. I found myself unusually excited, my lust for Neetu's body multiplied tenfold. Neetu too seemed to be in a heightened mood, and we had long, loud, passionate, vigorous sex.
Even the next morning, I had to go to work, I didn't want to get out of bed. And though Neetu wanted to get up and brush and freshen up, I didn't let her. We ended up having sex again, before I finally let go of Neetu.
"What happened to you!" Neetu told me later, as we were having breakfast, her tone mischievous. "You are acting as if we just got married!"
"I can't seem to get enough of you." I told her honestly. "You make me feel young."
"Well," Neetu was coy, "There's another young man in the house also apparently crushing on my nowadays."
We both laughed. It showed how casually we took Bhola, and how harmless we thought he was. Even though Neetu knew he was ogling her behind her back, she paid no attention to it. There had been some gossip of one married lady from our community and Bhola, but it soon stopped when her husband came back from Dubai. There was also that story of Mrs. Chadda's maid servant and Bhola, but that too stopped when the maid servant's husband got a job in the city and took her away.
Some weeks passed after that night. Over time, we casually would bring up the topic of Bhola's crush in our bedroom to spice things up and have wild sex. Bhola's behaviour around us didn't change much, but obviously with such a gorgeous lady in the house, his crush, and his attempts to ogle my wife, were understandable.
Around three months later, something else happened.
Neetu was feeling very tired and had retired to bed earlier than usual. It was her time of the month, and I told her I will take care of her tasks. I put away all the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen with Bhola's help.
"Bhola," I told him. "There is a hamper of dirty clothes upstairs, near my study. Go and put those clothes in the washing machine and start it on."
"Yes, sahib."
"I am going to go out for a walk." I told him. "It's a nice weather outside this evening. Make sure the clothes are in the washing machine."
"Yes, sahib."
I cleaned myself up, and then put on a small jacket. I exited the house, fully intending to go for my walk. It was then I noticed that the light to Bhola's room was on.
"Why does he keep his light on all the time!" I thought angrily. "I had warned him about this. Electricity bills are high enough as it is."
I walked around the perimeter of the house from the outside to his window. I had no intention to peep and watch on the sly. I was just curious to know if he was inside the room or not. As I made my way to his window, I saw that the blinds were drawn, but not completely. If I stood to one side, I could see inside without him seeing me.
It was then that I saw a strange sight.
Bhola had brought the hamper of dirty clothes inside his room!
I stood there, my jaw dropping in surprise, and my thoughts of going for a long walk completely forgotten.
Why did Bhola bring the dirty clothes basket into his room?
I stood there and watched, hoping no one would come up by the side street. I wasn't clearly visible unless people peered over the fence and looked, but you never know who was watching from where.
Bhola started hunting for something in the bin basket. What was he up to? I soon found out my answer. Bhola pulled out one of Neetu's used bras, and then two panties, and started smelling them!
It was one of the pink satin bras that Neetu wore when we had sex, and the two panties he had in his hand was expensive as well. Bhola grabbed the three items, and then sat down on his bed.
I stood there in shock, watching the antics of my servant. I had always thought of his 'crush' as harmless, and here I saw what he was up to!
Bhola fumbled with his zipper and soon took off his trousers. And then he pulled down his underwear. As his cock came into view, I let out a gasp. I couldn't help myself... even as a man... a very strictly heterosexual man... I had to marvel at the sight.
Bhola had an impressive cock. It was very thick, and it was very long. It was almost three times my length when I was erect, and Bhola wasn't even fully aroused! It was huge. No wonder there was gossip about some of the married ladies of our community and him! Right then I started to see Bhola in a different light.
I didn't know it then, but one of the married ladies that Bhola would conquer soon would be my own wife Neetu.
Bhola placed the bra and one of the panties on the bed, and then lay down on his stomach on the bed over the bra and panty. Neetu's panty - the one he had placed on the bed - was now just below his groin and her bra was under his chest. Then he took the other panty in his hand and started smelling it, even as he started rubbing his groin against the panty that was on the bed.
I realized what Bhola was doing. He was fantasizing about my wife. With the bra under his chest, he was picturing himself motorboating my wife's large breasts. And as his dick rubbed against Neetu's panties, he was imagining himself fucking her. All the time he was also imagining smelling her pussy with the used panty that was in his hand.
Bhola soon started to cum. He was ejaculating for a long time.
I watched as my servant finished masturbating on my wife's clothes. He got up and held her panty on his hand. It had his thick gooey cum on it. He quickly got dressed again, and then placed the dirty undergarments back in the clothes bin. Picking the basket up, he left the room, possibly to load them in the washing machine.
I quietly made my way back inside the house to our room. I of course didn't tell Neetu what I had seen, but I wondered what else Bhola was up to.
Next morning, at breakfast time, Neetu was scolding Bhola on something, which he just kept timidly nodding yes to. It appeared he had put too much salt in the omelettes, which Neetu hated. I looked at him as Neetu berated him, and Bhola looked so timid and frightened. It was hard to imagine that someone like him could also be engaging in those antics last night, masturbating on my wife's undergarments. Neetu, of course, had no idea about what Bhola had been up to, and continued to scold him.
The next incident happened a few weeks later. It was afternoon, and I was working from home, and Neetu wanted to take a shower. Unfortunately, the hot water geezer in our bathroom was not working.
A sudden idea came to my head. I called Bhola to our room and asked him if his bathroom had hot water.
"Yes, sahib." Bhola kept his eyes on the floor. "My bathroom has hot water. The geezer is working."
"You can go to Bhola's bathroom." I told my wife, hoping she would agree. "The geezer there is working. I will see what is wrong with ours."
"Hmmph." Neetu replied. It was clear she wasn't pleased - Bhola's bathroom wasn't the best. It was a typical servant's bathroom - not that big, not too clean, and not much space. But Neetu didn't have a choice; if she wanted a shower, she would have to use Bhola's bathroom.
"Go and turn the geezer on." I instructed Bhola. "I have some work here to do, and memsaab will be down there momentarily."
"Yes, sahib." Bhola nodded and left the room.
"I really don't want to use his bathroom." Neetu complained. "It's dirty, it's small... and there's no tub, of course. The bathing stall is too close to the commode, and water gets everywhere."
"Darling." I told her. "Be practical. If you want a hot shower, that's the only option we have now."
"Hmmph!"
Neetu took out her clothes from the cupboard and took them along with her as she made her way out of our room, and then downstairs towards Bhola's bathroom. Bhola's bathroom was beside his room - downstairs towards the rear of the house.
I gave Neetu two minutes and then stealthily followed her down the stairs.
It was the middle of the afternoon, and bright sunny one at that, and our house had brilliant sunlight, so it would be hard to stay hidden. Thus, I followed my wife from quite way behind so as not to be seen. She was already downstairs, and I was at the top of the stairs, peering in.
"Memsaab." I heard Bhola say. "The geezer is on, and I tested the water. It is hot."
"Thank you, Bhola." My wife grunted.
My wife entered the bathroom and shut the door. I heard her curse loudly.
"Bhola!" She said, opening the door again. "There is no lock here!"
"Memsaab." Bhola kept his eyes on the floor. "Who comes to my bathroom! I told sahib before, but the lock is broken. It is for some time now."
"Hmmph." Neetu grunted once again, "What if someone opens the door now when I am in! I have to take off my clothes to take a shower, you know."
"Memsaab, there is no one here beside you and me." Bhola tried to soothe my wife. "Sahib is upstairs. You take your bath. No one will enter until you are out. I have some work in the kitchen, I will go there."
"Ugh," Neetu swore again, before going back inside the bathroom and shutting the door. I remained on the top of the stairs, hidden below the railing, peering through the rails.
Bhola, instead of going to the kitchen, remained by the door. He turned and looked around, but I was hidden well. Confident that I was busy in my room, as I had told him, Bhola then knelt down by the bathroom door, and then put his eye through the keyhole, peeping in.
I was shocked to see him so brazenly do this. He was actually trying to see my wife take a shower, in the nude! This had gone beyond a crush now, and he was no longer content with ogling my wife's buttocks or trying to catch a peak of her cleavage. Bhola was actually spying on my wife in the bathroom!
As he intently peered through the small opening, Bhola maneuvered his cock out of his trousers, not taking his eyes of the keyhole even for a moment. His cock came into view, and I saw that he already had a hard on. That was pretty quick considering he had hardly spent a minute in front of the bathroom door.
Neetu must now be fully naked inside and our servant was seeing her like that. Till today he was using only her undergarments, but now he was also seeing her fully naked in real. As I watched my servant watch my wife, and rub his cock in his hands, I too began to get a throbbing erection. Taking out my own cock, I too began to masturbate, seeing our servant do the same as he watched my naked wife take her bath. Neetu was unaware that right now, she was giving pleasure to two horny and perverted men!
It did not take long for Bhola to cum. Neetu must have put on quite the show! Bhola seemed to cum and cum and cum - he had lots of sperm! Bhola then wiped himself against his trousers and went to his room, probably to clean up properly.
The thought of my wife bathing in the nude, and our servant watching her and masturbating, was too much for me, and I too started to cum. Hastily I used my underwear to clean myself up.
After a few minutes, my wife Neetu appeared from the bathroom, looking as fresh and sexy as ever. She of course had no clue what had happened while she was taking her bath. That our servant was watching her in the nude and masturbating. And her husband masturbating watching the servant masturbate.
From that day on, I kept a strict eye on Bhola and his whereabouts, whenever I was working from home. Our geezer also kept "malfunctioning" every other day, forcing Neetu to take her shower in Bhola's bathroom. Bhola peeped in every time, masturbating as he saw my wife naked inside the toilet.
I would also ask him to do the laundry at night, after Neetu would retire to bed. Giving the excuse that I needed a quick night post-dinner walk, I would go outside and then peep into Bhola's room. He would take the dirty clothes bin, take out my wife's undergarments and go to his room.
He was now masturbating every night on her panties and bra, and almost every other day watching her take a bath.
My wife must be really turning him on. And I could see Bhola's lust for Neetu was growing by the day, as evident by the way he hungrily looked at her during the day. Whenever my wife would have her back to Bhola, bending down or squatting to pick up something, he would gaze at her buttocks with wild lust in his eyes, and sometimes even brazenly rub his crotch.
Something had to give, soon.
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