Adultery Across Rooftops by misterwho

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Instead, she just clasped her hands behind her head and looked at him. The pose lifted her breasts and held them up high at him, leaving her body open and vulnerable to his all-consuming gaze. He gulped, his throat completely dry. He saw the saree bunched and run along her cleavage while on either side the cloth proved inadequate to cover her breasts. Half of each breast, large mounds, was open to his gaze and what lay beneath the cloth in the centre heaved with her every breath. Her knees were akimbo and her legs were spread apart. But because a saree is wound around the body and the hem is low at the ankle, nothing was exposed to Sham.

But she felt open and she liked it that way.

"So, what did you see?" she asked him.

"The garden," he insisted.

"And me in that garden?" she asked.

Sham felt his face suffused with heat and pent up emotion. He could not talk.

"What is your name?" she asked, feeling a bit sorry for him. Poor chap was feeling terrible only because social mores held that such feelings of lust were inappropriate. "Rubbish," she thought to herself for the millionth time in her life. This was nature at work.

"Sham," he whispered.

"So, Sham. Did you see me in my garden?" she persisted.

"Yes," he nodded.

"Was that just now? A little while ago?" she asked. He again nodded in the affirmative. That established the facts. Without him having to spell it out, she knew that he had seen her pleasuring herself with the hose and her hand.

"So what brought you here? What did you come here for?" she asked moving to the next step of laying out the situation.

"To see you," he blurted out.

Sheila relaxed completely now. She had made him open up adequately and from here she knew exactly what was going to happen.

"Does anyone know that you have come here to see me?" she asked. He shook his head to indicate 'no'.

"Your mother?" she ventured. Again no.

"And will anyone come to know?" she asked, indirectly seeking assurance. He stared at her not knowing the import of this question.

"Sham," she said softly, "You can see me and talk to me and be here, so long as no one knows and no one comes to know."

"Surely, aunty" blurted out Sham, his volume rising as he felt a burden lift from his shoulder.

"Promise?" she pushed him. "Because if you promise me that, I can be free with you."

What did that mean? His ears buzzed as he felt blood rushing in him. "Promise aunty!" he exclaimed.

"Good. What did you want to see me about?" asked Sheila stretching her legs out and bringing her toes tantalizingly close to his legs. He simply gawked back at her.

"Or was it that you wanted to see me? About nothing. Just see me?" she said mischievously, laughter in her voice.

Silence. Awkward silence from him. For her it was a silence loaded with possibility. Sheila seized the moment.

She wiggled her bottom out of the beanbag and got onto her knees. She was now in front of him as he sat on the divan and she was kneeling in front. As he looked down on her, the saree was an irritating obstruction, obscuring her cleavage and bulging breasts from his view. In front of her face was the dangerously large bulge in his jeans.

Sheila felt her throat dry even as the channel between her legs turned slick. She had been without this too long and now she was nearing the point of no return. A little more, and all her resolve of the last few years was about to go up in the smoke of her pent up lust. It was just that first move, for both him and for her. For her, it was to know that she could control this situation while indulging herself. And from him she knew she could not expect control. He would be quick at first and that would hardly meet her needs. But she had all the time. If it worked, she could have him again and that second, third and later rounds would probably do the trick.