09-04-2020, 05:53 AM
Haria: Are Malik… kuch ek purani banyan, chaddi mil jaye to kam ho jayega…
Chacha-ji (now turning towards me): Kiyu Beti? Hai kuch Ram ke purane banyan?
Me: Ji… ek-adh hai.. par fata hua… chalega Haria?
Haria: Dekhe to sahi…
I quickly searched for Ram’s old vests in the wardrobe and handed a couple to Haria.
Haria: Ye to sala pura hi fata hua hai… Nehi... ye nehi kaam ayega Bhabi-ji! Aur nehi hai?
I nodded negatively.
Haria: To fir dekhiye naa agar aap ki koi purani chaddi mil jaye to usse kaam chala lunga mai!
Meri chaddi!
I was instantly breathing heavier as I heard the low class man request for my old used panty! I had started to feel tighter now as things were going beyond my control a bit. I never realized that this sort of thing might come up while sewing a new dress from older unused clothes. And, Chacha-ji added to my awkwardness.
Chacha-ji: Ye to mil hi jayega… kiyu Beti? Are nehi mai apni utar ke de deta hoon! Ha ha ha…
Chacha-ji’s crude joke did not amuse me at all, but I had to smile to his laugh. With hesitant steps I moved towards the cupboard to look for my old panties and Chacha-ji intensified my embarrassment all the more by conversing bullshit with that low class man!
Chacha-ji: Kiyu re Hara… mere underpant se kaam nehi hoga?
Haria: Nehi Mailk… aap to chaddi nehi pehente ho na…
Chacha-ji: What? Mai chaddi nehi peheta hoon? Mai kya hameisha aise hi ghoomta rehta hoon? Kehna kya chata hai tu?
Haria: Nehi nehi…
Chacha-ji: Kya nehi nehi! Ha? (lowering his voice a bit so that I could not hear) Sala kamina kahika… bolna kya chahta hai? Mai kya bina chaddi ke lund khada karke ghoomta hoon?
Haria: Are Mailk… aap suniye to sahi! Aap to bina samjhehi baras pade! Mai keh raha hoon ke aap to underpant pehente ho … chaddi jise kehte hai wo to nehi pehente ho naa?
Chacha-ji: Oh! To aisa bol naa!
Haria: Aap pura bolne doge tab naa… Ab dekhiye… gents underpant ke kapde to safed aur bilkul patle hota hai… wo ladies dress ke stitching mei andar se jo support chahiye hota hai wo nehi de sakta…
Chacha-ji: I see.
As the two males conversed I was trying to think what to do! I had to reply something. I could not outrightly deny that I had no old discarded panties at all! If I did that there was every possibility that Haria would demand one of my current panties. Oh No!
Haria: Chachi bhi ab nehi rahe ke unse kuch madad mil jata!
Chach-ji: Kaun? Anuradha? Teri Chachi? Hmmm... par usse koi madad nehi milti!
Haria: Kiyu Malik?
Chacha-ji: Are Anuradha ko mai kabhi ye sab pehente nehi dekha!
Haria: Are Malik…ghar mei nehi pehenti hogi…
Chacha-ji: Are nehi re! Wo to ye sab modern kapde kabhi peheni nehi… hamesha sari-blouse hi pehenti thi… aur niche aur kuch nehi pehenti thi.
Haria: Ho sakta hai aap ko pata nehi par bahar jane ke waqt…
Chacha-ji (losing his temper): Abe chutiye! Mai uska pati hoon… mujhe pata nehi hoga! (lowering his voice a bit) Anuradha ko mai choddta tha ke koi aur? Sari-petticoat ke niche wo hamesha nangi rehna hi pasand karti thi!
I was unable to take any more. My ears were all red. I was breathing heavily. What was Chacha-ji doing? Haria was his servant and he was explaining him how his deceased wife used to dress up! Did she wear a panty or not under her dress?
In any case I could not just keep silent any more! I had to admit that I had a couple of old panties which Haria could take for stitching purpose. Moreover, I was also feeling awkward in another way that I was stooping in front of the cupboard in the name of searching for my panty and both males were right behind me, surely observing and getting pleasures from viewing my round protruding fleshy sari-covered ass.
Me: Err… Haria… (picking up two of my old unused panties) … ye mila hai… par ye kafi purane hai…
Haria (taking the panties from my hand): Bhabi-ji, ye to bilkul kuchal gaya hai…
Saying that he got busy in straightening my panties which were naturally crushed as they were kept in a plastic packet under other clothes in the wardrobe. Chacha-ji was also eagerly looking down at him how he was uncurling and straightening my panty with his hands.
I was naturally feeling extremely tight and was clenching my lips in some nervousness though I tried to train my mind that though he worked as a servant in our house he actually was a ladies tailor and he was just doing his job ensuring what he needed for sewing a new dress for me.
Did I not go to a male tailor in a ladies tailor shop to give measurement of my blouse? Did I not talk about my personal matters there about fitting, tightness or loosening, undergarments etc.? Haria was also a ladies tailor! I should be open and act normally to him.
Chacha-ji: Isse hoga tera kaam? Kya cut piece – wat piece?
Haria: Ji ji malik… jhaakaas kam hoga!
Chacha-ji: Good!
Haria: Bhabi-ji… ye purane to hai… par dekhiye ek bhi chedd (=hole) nehi hai?
Chacha-ji (now turning towards me): Kiyu Beti? Hai kuch Ram ke purane banyan?
Me: Ji… ek-adh hai.. par fata hua… chalega Haria?
Haria: Dekhe to sahi…
I quickly searched for Ram’s old vests in the wardrobe and handed a couple to Haria.
Haria: Ye to sala pura hi fata hua hai… Nehi... ye nehi kaam ayega Bhabi-ji! Aur nehi hai?
I nodded negatively.
Haria: To fir dekhiye naa agar aap ki koi purani chaddi mil jaye to usse kaam chala lunga mai!
Meri chaddi!
I was instantly breathing heavier as I heard the low class man request for my old used panty! I had started to feel tighter now as things were going beyond my control a bit. I never realized that this sort of thing might come up while sewing a new dress from older unused clothes. And, Chacha-ji added to my awkwardness.
Chacha-ji: Ye to mil hi jayega… kiyu Beti? Are nehi mai apni utar ke de deta hoon! Ha ha ha…
Chacha-ji’s crude joke did not amuse me at all, but I had to smile to his laugh. With hesitant steps I moved towards the cupboard to look for my old panties and Chacha-ji intensified my embarrassment all the more by conversing bullshit with that low class man!
Chacha-ji: Kiyu re Hara… mere underpant se kaam nehi hoga?
Haria: Nehi Mailk… aap to chaddi nehi pehente ho na…
Chacha-ji: What? Mai chaddi nehi peheta hoon? Mai kya hameisha aise hi ghoomta rehta hoon? Kehna kya chata hai tu?
Haria: Nehi nehi…
Chacha-ji: Kya nehi nehi! Ha? (lowering his voice a bit so that I could not hear) Sala kamina kahika… bolna kya chahta hai? Mai kya bina chaddi ke lund khada karke ghoomta hoon?
Haria: Are Mailk… aap suniye to sahi! Aap to bina samjhehi baras pade! Mai keh raha hoon ke aap to underpant pehente ho … chaddi jise kehte hai wo to nehi pehente ho naa?
Chacha-ji: Oh! To aisa bol naa!
Haria: Aap pura bolne doge tab naa… Ab dekhiye… gents underpant ke kapde to safed aur bilkul patle hota hai… wo ladies dress ke stitching mei andar se jo support chahiye hota hai wo nehi de sakta…
Chacha-ji: I see.
As the two males conversed I was trying to think what to do! I had to reply something. I could not outrightly deny that I had no old discarded panties at all! If I did that there was every possibility that Haria would demand one of my current panties. Oh No!
Haria: Chachi bhi ab nehi rahe ke unse kuch madad mil jata!
Chach-ji: Kaun? Anuradha? Teri Chachi? Hmmm... par usse koi madad nehi milti!
Haria: Kiyu Malik?
Chacha-ji: Are Anuradha ko mai kabhi ye sab pehente nehi dekha!
Haria: Are Malik…ghar mei nehi pehenti hogi…
Chacha-ji: Are nehi re! Wo to ye sab modern kapde kabhi peheni nehi… hamesha sari-blouse hi pehenti thi… aur niche aur kuch nehi pehenti thi.
Haria: Ho sakta hai aap ko pata nehi par bahar jane ke waqt…
Chacha-ji (losing his temper): Abe chutiye! Mai uska pati hoon… mujhe pata nehi hoga! (lowering his voice a bit) Anuradha ko mai choddta tha ke koi aur? Sari-petticoat ke niche wo hamesha nangi rehna hi pasand karti thi!
I was unable to take any more. My ears were all red. I was breathing heavily. What was Chacha-ji doing? Haria was his servant and he was explaining him how his deceased wife used to dress up! Did she wear a panty or not under her dress?
In any case I could not just keep silent any more! I had to admit that I had a couple of old panties which Haria could take for stitching purpose. Moreover, I was also feeling awkward in another way that I was stooping in front of the cupboard in the name of searching for my panty and both males were right behind me, surely observing and getting pleasures from viewing my round protruding fleshy sari-covered ass.
Me: Err… Haria… (picking up two of my old unused panties) … ye mila hai… par ye kafi purane hai…
Haria (taking the panties from my hand): Bhabi-ji, ye to bilkul kuchal gaya hai…
Saying that he got busy in straightening my panties which were naturally crushed as they were kept in a plastic packet under other clothes in the wardrobe. Chacha-ji was also eagerly looking down at him how he was uncurling and straightening my panty with his hands.
I was naturally feeling extremely tight and was clenching my lips in some nervousness though I tried to train my mind that though he worked as a servant in our house he actually was a ladies tailor and he was just doing his job ensuring what he needed for sewing a new dress for me.
Did I not go to a male tailor in a ladies tailor shop to give measurement of my blouse? Did I not talk about my personal matters there about fitting, tightness or loosening, undergarments etc.? Haria was also a ladies tailor! I should be open and act normally to him.
Chacha-ji: Isse hoga tera kaam? Kya cut piece – wat piece?
Haria: Ji ji malik… jhaakaas kam hoga!
Chacha-ji: Good!
Haria: Bhabi-ji… ye purane to hai… par dekhiye ek bhi chedd (=hole) nehi hai?
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