Adultery Sahana: My, Once Shy, Bengali Wife by Dhaka1989

[sarit11]

All of a sudden, she told him that it was enough and ended the massage and Subhas retracted his hands like a obedient boy. She then turned and sat upright with her skirt still bunched up at the waist, giving us her frontal panty-covered pussy view, to Subhas-kaka for the first time. My shameless, beautiful wife did not probably realize that her panty crotch area was wet and it was if someone looked hard enough, and both Subhas-kaka and I looked hard enough. After she composed herself, she left the mat and went and sat on the sofa, covering herself in the process by pulling her skirt down. She had done it so casually as if having her skirt bunched up at her waist was a normal thing. I too followed her and sat on the sofa.


‘Kaka, the massage was wonderful,’ she said, ‘due to running and exercising regularly, I need such massages. I hope you don’t mind giving me your services every now and then.’
‘Didi, I thank my luck that I can be of service to you,’ he said in his usual modest way.
‘What he means is,’ I intervened, ‘is that he gets to touch you in places that the idiot guard and driver are dreaming of.’ I placed my hand on her left thigh and slightly pulled at them, trying to spread her legs to give him peeks at panties he had already seen. ‘Am I right?’ I asked Subhas.
As soon as I asked that question, Sahana elbowed me, making me cough. ‘Ali, behave!’ she said. Anyway she was right; too much banter with Subhas-kaka types was not a good idea. I needed him to still respect me to some extent.
Subhas-kaka gave us a sly smile. ‘Ali-bhai, you are making me shy,’ he said, ‘of course it is true, those foul-mouthed lechers would die of jealousy, if they got to know.’

‘And you would keep it that way,’ I warned him. The good thing was he feared our family to a certain extent. He used to see MPs and ministers dine at our home when he used to work for us.
‘Of course Ali-bhai, I was a loyal servant back in the day, so I won’t change now,’ he assured us.
I looked at him, straight in the eye, ‘why did you make us listen to the recording Kaka?’ I asked.
‘Ali-bhai… Ali bhai I wanted to make sure you knew what these character-less men say behind everyone’s backs. So that Didi and you are careful about them,’ he replied.
‘Hmm,’ I expressed, somewhat satisfied with his answer.
To change the mood, Sahana spoke up, ‘so what do you want in return for the service? You see I don’t like owing people.’

Giving up trying to be modest, as Sahana insisted payment be made, Subhas-kaka started thinking. I was wondering what he might ask. ‘Didi,’ he asked, ‘you know Ali-bhai said that you are a dancer…’
‘I wasn’t a dancer, but I learned how to dance,’ she corrected him.
‘Yes, yes, that. I was wondering if you would dance for me,’ he said, ‘I just wanted to see how you dance.’ Subhas, that sly dog, had some brain in his upper chambers, I thought.
‘Kaka,’ she said, ‘I can’t do that. Besides, dancing is a lot of effort. On top of that what sort of dance? I don’t know.’ I saw Subhas-kaka’s face droop in disappointment and sadness.
‘What do you mean, you don’t know?’ I intervened, ‘Kaka had made such effort for you to feel good, just give him a dance, and dance a bollywood number.’ I tried to sound casual, as if it wasn’t a big deal, rich housewives dancing for low-class caretakers. I also said to “give him a dance”. I didn’t know why said that.
‘Are you sure Ali,’ she said, looking into my eyes.
‘Of course my love, look at how Subhas-kaka’s face has lit up. Look,’ I told her, lightly patting her shoulders. Subhas’s face had actually lit up.
‘Okay, Kaka,’ she asked getting up, ‘you will get your dance. What song do you want?’
‘Anything you want Didi… A Bollywood song maybe,’ he said.

She left for our bedroom, instructing Subhas-kaka to move the mat to clear the space and have him sit up against the sofa on the carpet. Our society had a massive class system. Servant-types did not sit on sofas and then we waited for her.

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