21-05-2020, 06:56 AM
I was in office that late afternoon. We had not talked about the incidents last night ever since the blowjob. I was about to shut of my PC and go for a cup of tea, when I received a call from Sahana.
‘Hello,’ she said, ‘Could you come home early today I called Subhas-kaka to get me a electrician to fix the Air-con?’
‘Okay, But why do I need to come?
‘Just do, please. Come home quick.’ She said and responded with a okay and she hung up. I left the office.
Subhas or Subhas-kaka (kaka was a word for uncle in Bengali) as we called him, was the caretaker of our building. He was about fifty years old, short, dark, bellied and with a moustache covering most of his upper lip. He was amiable, a quick-witted jokester, jolly kind of fellow, but honest, hardworking, never gossiped about others. He usually wearing a lungi and a shirt, with a smile painted across his face. He took care of all the utility troubles in the apartment building and generally helped out everyone, in return flat owners gave him tips and the apartment complex paid him a salary. I knew Subhas-kaka from childhood, as he worked in my father’s house as a caretaker. It was through my reference that he got a job in the building. So he kept a lookout for me always out of loyalty.
As I got home, I rang the bell and from inside Subhas-kaka opened the door. ‘Subhas-kaka, where is Sahana?’ I asked him.
‘We came here just now; Didi is in the room showing the electrician.’ He replied smiling. By Didi he was referring to Sahana as he called her Didi, meaning elder sister in Bengali, whereas we called him Kaka, which meant uncle. I found also why he mentioned that they came here now. Also the way he said “in the room showing the electrician” sounded a bit odd, jokey kind of way. I did not pay head to it.
As I walked in into the living room, Sahana called me from the bedroom to come to her. As I walked in, with Subhas-kaka following me, I discovered why he said what he said. The electrician was squatting in front of the blown socket, which was about his head height while full squatting, and Sahana beside him was bent at her hips with knees slightly bent. She was wearing what she was wearing last night. A lime colored T-shirt and black leggings. Her leggings were tight on her legs and thighs making the shape of her legs known to both men. I was wondering about her undergarments. As I went closer and to her other side I was shocked to learn that that like last night she was not wearing anything underneath.
Then it dawned on me. She had rushed me home so that I witness and take part in this game of hers and mine and that socket fixing was just an excuse for her to show off to these men. The electrician was having trouble concentrating with having a luscious young female, who smelled of perfume, bent beside him with braless hanging boobs so near his face, T-shirt covered boobs that he could see, and he did occasionally, when he moved his head sideways to answer her questions. The electrician was a young, lanky fellow named Sharif. My gaze now went from the electrician to Sahana to Subhas-kaka to actually him find staring at Sahana, especially her juicy ass and leggings stretched out over it, in the pretense of looking at the electrician and the socket. As I caught him looking at her ass, he shifted his gaze to me, smiled and started a conversation on the topic that sockets blowout these days pretty easily. I then asked him how he was and everything. I noticed that his eyes although was on me and the floor infront of him (in the Bengali cultural context on of lower status of age/class did not look one of higher status in the eye) as he was talking to me, but his eyes was struggling to not look at Sahana’s ass. She was still bent and still talking, which was all pretense obviously. I could not fault him for looking at her ass, any man would, and rather he was trying to show restraint at least in front of me.
‘Hello,’ she said, ‘Could you come home early today I called Subhas-kaka to get me a electrician to fix the Air-con?’
‘Okay, But why do I need to come?
‘Just do, please. Come home quick.’ She said and responded with a okay and she hung up. I left the office.
Subhas or Subhas-kaka (kaka was a word for uncle in Bengali) as we called him, was the caretaker of our building. He was about fifty years old, short, dark, bellied and with a moustache covering most of his upper lip. He was amiable, a quick-witted jokester, jolly kind of fellow, but honest, hardworking, never gossiped about others. He usually wearing a lungi and a shirt, with a smile painted across his face. He took care of all the utility troubles in the apartment building and generally helped out everyone, in return flat owners gave him tips and the apartment complex paid him a salary. I knew Subhas-kaka from childhood, as he worked in my father’s house as a caretaker. It was through my reference that he got a job in the building. So he kept a lookout for me always out of loyalty.
As I got home, I rang the bell and from inside Subhas-kaka opened the door. ‘Subhas-kaka, where is Sahana?’ I asked him.
‘We came here just now; Didi is in the room showing the electrician.’ He replied smiling. By Didi he was referring to Sahana as he called her Didi, meaning elder sister in Bengali, whereas we called him Kaka, which meant uncle. I found also why he mentioned that they came here now. Also the way he said “in the room showing the electrician” sounded a bit odd, jokey kind of way. I did not pay head to it.
As I walked in into the living room, Sahana called me from the bedroom to come to her. As I walked in, with Subhas-kaka following me, I discovered why he said what he said. The electrician was squatting in front of the blown socket, which was about his head height while full squatting, and Sahana beside him was bent at her hips with knees slightly bent. She was wearing what she was wearing last night. A lime colored T-shirt and black leggings. Her leggings were tight on her legs and thighs making the shape of her legs known to both men. I was wondering about her undergarments. As I went closer and to her other side I was shocked to learn that that like last night she was not wearing anything underneath.
Then it dawned on me. She had rushed me home so that I witness and take part in this game of hers and mine and that socket fixing was just an excuse for her to show off to these men. The electrician was having trouble concentrating with having a luscious young female, who smelled of perfume, bent beside him with braless hanging boobs so near his face, T-shirt covered boobs that he could see, and he did occasionally, when he moved his head sideways to answer her questions. The electrician was a young, lanky fellow named Sharif. My gaze now went from the electrician to Sahana to Subhas-kaka to actually him find staring at Sahana, especially her juicy ass and leggings stretched out over it, in the pretense of looking at the electrician and the socket. As I caught him looking at her ass, he shifted his gaze to me, smiled and started a conversation on the topic that sockets blowout these days pretty easily. I then asked him how he was and everything. I noticed that his eyes although was on me and the floor infront of him (in the Bengali cultural context on of lower status of age/class did not look one of higher status in the eye) as he was talking to me, but his eyes was struggling to not look at Sahana’s ass. She was still bent and still talking, which was all pretense obviously. I could not fault him for looking at her ass, any man would, and rather he was trying to show restraint at least in front of me.
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