Adultery Slave to My Indian Maid by spankedboy

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Lately, I had started to notice my maid servant Rashida as well. We also kept a younger maid called Rubina who knew how to cook well. Rubina was just a young scrawny thing; her only redeeming feature was her big butts. Otherwise she had a thin small figure. Rashida on the other hand -- she was bigger, and filled out quite nicely. You could say Rashida was a little chubby, but the weight was in the proper places.

Being older, Rashida was also more carefree with her appearance, with more skin exposed -- back, navel -- and her big pendulous breasts were always bouncing about in her blouse as she mopped the floor or dusted the furniture. Rashida's blouse was always a size smaller for her humongous boobs, and her cleavage was always visible, even more when it was just I who was around. When she used to mop the floor, I used to sit at the dining table, pretending to study, while ogling her as she bent over, her gigantic butt protruding, while engaged in the housework. After she was done, I would usually go to my room, trying to be discreet about my raging boner, and jack off to thoughts of Rashida and Mrs. Patel together.

One afternoon there was no one home except the two maids -- Rubina and Rashida. I knocked on the door after returning from college and Rashida opened the front door.

"Hi Rashida. How are you?" I greeted her as I walked in.

"I am fine, baba." She replied. "Thank you for asking. Your parents are out, and will be returning late. Do you want your food right away, or sometime later?"

"Perhaps later, Rashida." I told her. "I want to relax in my room for some time."

"Alright, baba. I have to finish sweeping the floors before I mop them. After that I will make your food."

Rashida had turned around and was heading back to the kitchen. My eyes went to her shapely buttocks, and how her clothing was clinging on to her shapely figure. Her ass cheeks swayed from side to side as she walked, and I could feel my penis hardening. Oh, how I would love to bury my face between her ass cheeks!

I went to my room. Carefully shutting the door, I started to strip. First I took off my socks, then my shirt, and then my pants. I was now dressed only in my underwear -- a thin, cotton, elastic underwear -- and ready to begin my masturbation session.

Mrs. Patel had been extra sexy that day. She had worn a dress shirt and a tight skirt that clung to her small ass and rose slightly above her knees, and the windows of the classroom had been open. An occasional gust of wind through the room would suddenly blow her skirt up, and we could even see the outline of her white panties. Of course she would just laugh and flatten her skirt down again, not knowing what affect it was having on us. There was always a scrum before English class -- even the usual backbenchers would fight to sit at the front row for her class. Every time Mrs. Patel had her back to us and was writing with the chalk on the blackboard, her little ass would wriggle and shake, leaving us all excited.

I sat down on my comfortable leather chair at my desk, and unbuttoned the slit on my underwear. Carefully I took out my excited cock from its resting place. I started to rub and stroke my penis, thinking of Mrs. Patel and Rashida. In my fantasy, I was imagining that I was in my classroom, after college, with Mrs. Patel behind the desk. I was dressed in my college uniform.

"C'mon," said Mrs. Patel, in my imagination, "If I am going to make you my slave, Tarek Zia, you need to get completely naked."

"Yes, Mrs. Patel, ma'am."

In my erotic imagination, I gulped as I slowly began to undress. First my shoes and socks, then my shirt, then my pants. My underwear was the last remaining article of clothing on my body.

"Those need to come off too," Mrs. Patel said. "I need you fully in the nude, boy. Slaves don't get to wear clothes."

"Yes, ma'am."

I then gripped the sides of my underwear and quickly took them off. My penis was there, fully exposed. A grin appeared on my teachers face.

"Your penis." She uttered. "It's so small."

A snicker came out of her mouth, before she quickly covered it and attempted to hold in her laughter. I looked at her face. As much as Mrs. Patel tried to hide it, I could read pure amusement in her eyes. I could tell what was running through her head -- of all the boys and men she must have seen, comparing them to me -- I was the smallest. I felt completely belittled and emasculated just by looking at her.