11-02-2019, 01:13 PM
Natwar: Eh! The seat is so wet.
Me: Natwar Bhaiya, take this hanky and wipe it.
Due to the rain, the seat was wet and Natwar took the hanky and dried the seat. I climbed up and was about to take my seat beside him, when he commented something very odd.
Natwar: Baby, the seat is still wet. Do not sit on your skirt directly.
I looked at him questionably, as I did not get what he meant.
Natwar: You sit as you sit on the floor. That would save your skirt Baby.
Actually that was the usual practice we girls do when we sit on the floor or grass in the open, so that our legs are mostly covered nicely. But doing that on the rickshaw would definitely be a bold thing, especially in front of a sitting male. But due to the situational request, I could not find a proper reply to avoid that and had to reluctantly commit myself to do that. I was standing on the rickshaw floor half bent and Natwar was sitting on the rickshaw seat. I took both my hands to my skirt and raised the hem trying to keep decency level and sat on the seat. I could not even comprehend how much exciting the scene would have been for a male to watch this from a sitting posture while I did that from a standing position!
I stretched my skirt in the form of a circle almost and sat down on the rickshaw seat. I immediately felt wetness in my inner thighs, as the seat was still wet and in no time felt that my panty was also getting wet from the water on the seat. But I could not verbalize that to my servant out of shame and remained quiet. But Natwar had other plans.
Natwar: Eh! The seat is still wet. My pant is getting wet.
Me: Yes, it’s slightly wet. It’s okay.
I tried to act normally and avoided to get involved into this conversation, but he dragged me into it.
Natwar: Baby, what are you saying? My undies are getting wet below my pant and you are saying it’s slightly wet.
The rickshaw had started moving and I was a bit puzzled how to react to this.
Natwar: Give your hanky. Let me wipe it again.
Me: But how can you do that when we both are sitting?
It came out spontaneously from my mouth and this low class man was exactly waiting for that to be asked.
Natwar: I will just lift my bottom a bit and you wipe it and likewise I will do that side.
Saying that in fact he slightly raised his bottom with my heavy collegebag clung to his chest within his folded arms and I had to turn sideways and insert my hand under his bottom and wipe the rickshaw seat. Time and again his round bottom was touching my hand as the rickshaw was jerking and swaying and simultaneously as I had turned towards him the fingers of his folded hand was touching my face. I did not mind as my servant’s fingers were touching my cheek and ear, but when it started brushing my lips almost I was feeling rather uncomfortable and quickly completed my wiping. My face turned immediately red as a male finger grazed an area so sensitive in my body as my lips.
Me: Natwar Bhaiya, it’s done. You can sit.
He sat down and I handed over the hanky to him and now I had to lift my bottoms. I lifted my bottoms a bit from the rickshaw seat and held the side framework for support. Natwar handed me over my bag and I noted that my skirt was still covering the seat that my servant was about to wipe. Without even asking me for permission, he simply raised my skirt to see the rickshaw seat and to wipe it. I almost froze in shame as my servant raised my skirt much, much higher up than actually needed and exposed me almost till my bottoms. I was so helpless as my hands were engaged carrying my own collegebag. The rickshaw moved on and since there was the polythene cover in our front and sides, no one on the road could see that a girl of 16 was half-standing on the rickshaw with her skirt hiked up till her round bottoms.
My servant was wiping the seat so slowly that I had to intervene.
Me: Is it done?
Natwar was raising my skirt with one hand to see and wiping the seat dry with the other.
Natwar: No baby. It’s still wet. Actually the hanky is wet itself.
Me: Doesn’t matter. Let me sit.
And I lowered my bottoms a bit only to feel this dirty man’s hand on my panty covered buns.
Natwar: Eh! Baby, your pant is so wet. You do one thing. You sit on my lap and keep the bag on the side. Look the rain is coming down heavier now. You will get wet from the sides also.
I was perplexed at this comment and blushed severely not knowing what to reply. Though I did not find the rain to be heavier, but water was dripping from the sides of the polythene on the rickshaw was true. I tried to reject his proposal, but his reasons were stronger and he being much older than me in age and no one was able to see me, I agreed to sit on his lap till the rest of my rickshaw journey. I did not know how much enjoyment that dirty mind got from me sitting on his legs, but I had a hard time controlling his hands. I kept reluctantly my collegebag to our side and stretched my skirt fully on my buttocks with my hands and sat on his thighs. I tried to exert minimum weight on his legs, but since the hand pulled rickshaw was jerking so much, I slowly kept the full weight of my buttocks on his thighs.
My young body was almost shivering sitting on the thighs of a grown up man and my heart likewise racing very fast. In no time I felt his right hand on my right thigh area over my skirt and his left hand alarmingly embraced me round my waist to keep support. I was holding the rickshaw framework above my head with my right hand and hence I was rather unprotected and vulnerable on the right side from my perky breast down to my waist area. I understood by then that it was a blunder for me to have agreed to Natwar’s suggestion and I could merely retract now. I was so helpless and defenseless in the hands of this dirty-minded person. Of course, his hands were not static and as the rickshaw was moving along, his hands were feeling my thigh, waist, and abdomen areas over my college dress. On at least one occasion I had to virtually stop him by holding his hands from directly groping my private parts.
Once as the rickshaw took a turn while moving, I almost slipped from his thighs probably due to the smoothness of my skirt-covered round rear portion and to keep me in position on his lap, he pulled me by my waist more towards his body. Then as if to keep the grip more secure on me, Natwar raised my skirt up halfway till my mid thighs and firmly held my naked skin with both hands. I could not react as it was done in such a casual way that it really appeared that he wanted to stop my further slipping.
Natwar: Baby, this way you won’t slip anymore.
To crown it, he verbalized what he did and I remained quiet, but was feeling so exposed and uncomfortable that I had to stretch my skirt over his hands covering my thighs to save some dignity. But that action actually triggered things for him! In some moments I felt his fingers were climbing up my smooth naked thighs below my skirt and it was such an uncomfortable feel for me that I cannot describe. When his fingers were almost touching my panty line, I thought that I must react. I simply caught his moving hand and he immediately stopped the nonsense.
That day was over as we soon reached home, but Natwar gathered all the courage from today’s incident. I was feeling severely detested towards this maid servant that I did not even wanted to talk to him. Next day was a Friday and unfortunately in the afternoon, it was again raining quite heavily. As it was a Friday I was wearing my PT skirt and my mom, as she does on every Friday, gave her usual warning to me of not to loiter on road in this dress. Since ours was a girls college it did not look odd in college, but for a girl of 16 and with a developing body like mine, I definitely looked sexy in that small skirt.
Today unlike other days Natwar did not climb up the rickshaw first and instead I took my seat. It was raining, so our umbrellas were open. I then noticed Natwar had a bag in his hand, which he was about to keep on the rickshaw floor. The rickshaw puller was already on his seat and urging us to get up quickly as it was raining, but Natwar was taking too much time to keep the bag at my feet and at the same time he was holding his umbrella on his head. Initially I was not conscious, but suddenly I felt he was trying to peep inside my skirt, as he was standing on the ground and I was sitting up on the rickshaw seat; furthermore he was keeping his bag right between my legs.
______________________________
Me: Natwar Bhaiya, take this hanky and wipe it.
Due to the rain, the seat was wet and Natwar took the hanky and dried the seat. I climbed up and was about to take my seat beside him, when he commented something very odd.
Natwar: Baby, the seat is still wet. Do not sit on your skirt directly.
I looked at him questionably, as I did not get what he meant.
Natwar: You sit as you sit on the floor. That would save your skirt Baby.
Actually that was the usual practice we girls do when we sit on the floor or grass in the open, so that our legs are mostly covered nicely. But doing that on the rickshaw would definitely be a bold thing, especially in front of a sitting male. But due to the situational request, I could not find a proper reply to avoid that and had to reluctantly commit myself to do that. I was standing on the rickshaw floor half bent and Natwar was sitting on the rickshaw seat. I took both my hands to my skirt and raised the hem trying to keep decency level and sat on the seat. I could not even comprehend how much exciting the scene would have been for a male to watch this from a sitting posture while I did that from a standing position!
I stretched my skirt in the form of a circle almost and sat down on the rickshaw seat. I immediately felt wetness in my inner thighs, as the seat was still wet and in no time felt that my panty was also getting wet from the water on the seat. But I could not verbalize that to my servant out of shame and remained quiet. But Natwar had other plans.
Natwar: Eh! The seat is still wet. My pant is getting wet.
Me: Yes, it’s slightly wet. It’s okay.
I tried to act normally and avoided to get involved into this conversation, but he dragged me into it.
Natwar: Baby, what are you saying? My undies are getting wet below my pant and you are saying it’s slightly wet.
The rickshaw had started moving and I was a bit puzzled how to react to this.
Natwar: Give your hanky. Let me wipe it again.
Me: But how can you do that when we both are sitting?
It came out spontaneously from my mouth and this low class man was exactly waiting for that to be asked.
Natwar: I will just lift my bottom a bit and you wipe it and likewise I will do that side.
Saying that in fact he slightly raised his bottom with my heavy collegebag clung to his chest within his folded arms and I had to turn sideways and insert my hand under his bottom and wipe the rickshaw seat. Time and again his round bottom was touching my hand as the rickshaw was jerking and swaying and simultaneously as I had turned towards him the fingers of his folded hand was touching my face. I did not mind as my servant’s fingers were touching my cheek and ear, but when it started brushing my lips almost I was feeling rather uncomfortable and quickly completed my wiping. My face turned immediately red as a male finger grazed an area so sensitive in my body as my lips.
Me: Natwar Bhaiya, it’s done. You can sit.
He sat down and I handed over the hanky to him and now I had to lift my bottoms. I lifted my bottoms a bit from the rickshaw seat and held the side framework for support. Natwar handed me over my bag and I noted that my skirt was still covering the seat that my servant was about to wipe. Without even asking me for permission, he simply raised my skirt to see the rickshaw seat and to wipe it. I almost froze in shame as my servant raised my skirt much, much higher up than actually needed and exposed me almost till my bottoms. I was so helpless as my hands were engaged carrying my own collegebag. The rickshaw moved on and since there was the polythene cover in our front and sides, no one on the road could see that a girl of 16 was half-standing on the rickshaw with her skirt hiked up till her round bottoms.
My servant was wiping the seat so slowly that I had to intervene.
Me: Is it done?
Natwar was raising my skirt with one hand to see and wiping the seat dry with the other.
Natwar: No baby. It’s still wet. Actually the hanky is wet itself.
Me: Doesn’t matter. Let me sit.
And I lowered my bottoms a bit only to feel this dirty man’s hand on my panty covered buns.
Natwar: Eh! Baby, your pant is so wet. You do one thing. You sit on my lap and keep the bag on the side. Look the rain is coming down heavier now. You will get wet from the sides also.
I was perplexed at this comment and blushed severely not knowing what to reply. Though I did not find the rain to be heavier, but water was dripping from the sides of the polythene on the rickshaw was true. I tried to reject his proposal, but his reasons were stronger and he being much older than me in age and no one was able to see me, I agreed to sit on his lap till the rest of my rickshaw journey. I did not know how much enjoyment that dirty mind got from me sitting on his legs, but I had a hard time controlling his hands. I kept reluctantly my collegebag to our side and stretched my skirt fully on my buttocks with my hands and sat on his thighs. I tried to exert minimum weight on his legs, but since the hand pulled rickshaw was jerking so much, I slowly kept the full weight of my buttocks on his thighs.
My young body was almost shivering sitting on the thighs of a grown up man and my heart likewise racing very fast. In no time I felt his right hand on my right thigh area over my skirt and his left hand alarmingly embraced me round my waist to keep support. I was holding the rickshaw framework above my head with my right hand and hence I was rather unprotected and vulnerable on the right side from my perky breast down to my waist area. I understood by then that it was a blunder for me to have agreed to Natwar’s suggestion and I could merely retract now. I was so helpless and defenseless in the hands of this dirty-minded person. Of course, his hands were not static and as the rickshaw was moving along, his hands were feeling my thigh, waist, and abdomen areas over my college dress. On at least one occasion I had to virtually stop him by holding his hands from directly groping my private parts.
Once as the rickshaw took a turn while moving, I almost slipped from his thighs probably due to the smoothness of my skirt-covered round rear portion and to keep me in position on his lap, he pulled me by my waist more towards his body. Then as if to keep the grip more secure on me, Natwar raised my skirt up halfway till my mid thighs and firmly held my naked skin with both hands. I could not react as it was done in such a casual way that it really appeared that he wanted to stop my further slipping.
Natwar: Baby, this way you won’t slip anymore.
To crown it, he verbalized what he did and I remained quiet, but was feeling so exposed and uncomfortable that I had to stretch my skirt over his hands covering my thighs to save some dignity. But that action actually triggered things for him! In some moments I felt his fingers were climbing up my smooth naked thighs below my skirt and it was such an uncomfortable feel for me that I cannot describe. When his fingers were almost touching my panty line, I thought that I must react. I simply caught his moving hand and he immediately stopped the nonsense.
That day was over as we soon reached home, but Natwar gathered all the courage from today’s incident. I was feeling severely detested towards this maid servant that I did not even wanted to talk to him. Next day was a Friday and unfortunately in the afternoon, it was again raining quite heavily. As it was a Friday I was wearing my PT skirt and my mom, as she does on every Friday, gave her usual warning to me of not to loiter on road in this dress. Since ours was a girls college it did not look odd in college, but for a girl of 16 and with a developing body like mine, I definitely looked sexy in that small skirt.
Today unlike other days Natwar did not climb up the rickshaw first and instead I took my seat. It was raining, so our umbrellas were open. I then noticed Natwar had a bag in his hand, which he was about to keep on the rickshaw floor. The rickshaw puller was already on his seat and urging us to get up quickly as it was raining, but Natwar was taking too much time to keep the bag at my feet and at the same time he was holding his umbrella on his head. Initially I was not conscious, but suddenly I felt he was trying to peep inside my skirt, as he was standing on the ground and I was sitting up on the rickshaw seat; furthermore he was keeping his bag right between my legs.
______________________________
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