31-10-2021, 06:45 AM
Swati still shook with residual excitement as she made her way to the basement garage. A sort of delayed PTSD but of the good kind, in a fantastic way. She was euphoric, on top of the world, like she’d smoked the best hash of her life and drunk some champagne too.
Her legs still felt weak and shaky, especially after what happened at the end. She couldn’t believe what she had done. Her pussy was as wet as it had ever been, her panties were soaked and she knew when she sat in the car, the seat underneath would have a large wet spot, not to mention her salwar would be drenched as well.
She had given Ramesh the show she had imagined on that first day just about a week ago, before going off to sleep. And then things had evolved and had sort of taken on a life of their own after that.
Somehow, she had continued to follow her instincts, something deep within her that said giving Ramesh some thrills was a good thing, almost on par with social service or charity work like those pious high-society women in Mumbai did.
Yes, she was in the high middle class, living in her swanky apartment and commuting to office in a high end car, working in a highly sought after job, but she had paid her dues, done the hard work, the shitty work, and now she deserved to relax a little.
True, she would have preferred to do that relaxation, whatever form it might take, with her husband, but that ship seemed to have sailed. Her husband seemed to have a pretty good parallel life of his own that intersected with hers very little if at all. Ships in the night, she sometimes thought.
Why was she doing what she was doing? She sat in her car, engine still off, and thought about it. The truth was, there was something in Ramesh that triggered these positive reactions in her; it was his lower caste-ness, his subordinate position in the company, in society itself, that lent itself to such a satisfactory reaction in her.
That she was subordinating herself, her body, to this lower caste man, that she was debasing herself both in her and his eyes, was really the excitement, the thrill. It would not have been half as thrilling if it had been Datta, the CEO of the company, or even Roger, the manager here in Gurugram, or any of the dozen or so men in the company who had at one time or the other sent her clear signals that they were interested. Signals she had rebuffed or ignored.
She actually had the reputation of being a dragon among her juniors and they feared her a little. That was good, from a career point of view.
The next time Ramesh was due—she looked up the cleaner’s schedule on the company intranet, and although she could not know it would be him that showed up, she had nevertheless waited for him.
She finished her work for the day—going over the final details of her new networking project—and she moved the large VxWorks manual out of the way so it would not obstruct anything. It had been a hard day with the work, managing the different personalities on her team, and the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach each time she saw a man in a chaprasi uniform or when she thought about what she planned to do later that day.
Ashok was out of town for that week, so it was going to be just Dhruv and Parvati at home. Dhruv had a playdate in the same buildings so he would be occupied, and Swati could do her “thing” guilt free.
The time arrived, and the butterflies intensified in her stomach. She had to go to the bathroom several times. The rest of the office left for the day, and she was finally alone.
As before, she had undressed, not completely, but wearing just her top.
Before Ramesh was to arrive, she dropped her clothes in a pile next to her, just like the last time, with the bra prominently on top.
She kept her kameez on, but if she so much as breathed in, her aureoles and nipples would be visible to anyone except a blind man.
If she thought about it, there had been something deliberate in the choice of what she wore to work that day. She’d chosen a mid thigh, high slit kameez that she usually wore with a slip because it was so see-through. She’d skipped the slip that day, but the dupatta’s folds provided adequate cover during the day. Now the dupatta hung by the hook on the back of the door.
And now, she was braless too, so her prominent nipples, erect with anticipation were poking tents in the sheer fabric. She spread her legs and slowly fingered herself. She needed no porn today, just the anticipation was enough.
She’d put a hand towel under her ass because she knew she would be soaking wet by the time the evening was done. It surprised her, this generous lubrication, just by the thought of something that not even her raunchiest porn could do for her.
She had gotten into watching porn online after her one time room mate, Neetu, in college had introduced her to the limitlessness of smut online.
Since then, she had evolved in her tastes and now preferred to watch gangbang type porn, but read more of the humiliation and submission subgenera. Because in porn action in the moment was king.
But stories that built slowly and opened possibilities to the imagination were ultimately more engaging and satisfying. One could revisit them in the mind over and over, changing the possibilities in a way that was difficult to do with video material. Whoever said that the mind was the biggest sex organ wasn’t far wrong.
She and Neetu occasionally met up for lunch and discussed these matters, their sex lives and what else was going on in each others’ lives.
So far she had hinted to Neetu that there was a cleaning boy in the office that was sort of having a crush on her and that she found it “cute.” She had mentioned being almost caught in the act of masturbating in the office after hours, but had downplayed the interaction after that.
Eventually she would tell her all, she knew because that’s what best friends did.
All this went through her mind as she gently rubbed along her slit, up and down along the rim, not even entering her opening, occasionally rubbing her clitoris and waited for Ramesh to arrive. Her heart was beating furiously, and she was breathing hard.
Also, she was leaking profusely and thinking about what she would do when the guy did arrive. She didn’t have a fixed plan but rather planned to go with her gut. Go as the fancy took her.
She must have been in position on her chair, behind her desk, for some fifteen minutes and was practically dying of anticipation when she heard the soft knock at the door. She was shocked to think that he might have not knocked at all if he’d seen her lights, perhaps thinking she was busy. After all, the last time had been a little awkward if one were to look at it from his point of view.
She cleared her throat and croaked out, “Come in!”
Her head was spinning with the heady feeling of doing something taboo and naughty and completely crazy. The door opened and Ramesh’s head poked in. He had a neutral, slightly stupid expression she remembered from last time.
She might have smiled or not, she couldn’t be sure. Then she said the first thing that came into her head. “I was almost done. Leaving actually. Come on in.”
She pulled her hand out from between her legs, and pushed back her chair with a little force, unlike the last time when she had moved a few tentative inches. This time she was brazen. A whole foot, maybe eighteen inches is how far back the push took her. She was sure he could see her bare lower thighs, knees and legs below where her top ended.
She stood up before she could chicken out and hide again in the kneehole, and almost stumbled, caught her knee on the tables edge, not hard, just a minor scbang. The kameez had been rucked up, and now it fell and covered her front. She was excruciatingly aware of the shortness of the kameez and the high slits that would show her upper thighs if she turned. But that was the whole point, wasn’t it?
She gathered herself, then twirled, very slowly, as though she were a model on a catwalk and stood still for a few seconds gathering herself. Her kameez didn’t flare with the twirl, but she was sure Ramesh got an eyeful.
Her skin burned with electric tingles. Her nipples, already hard, hardened further and her pussy sizzled. She felt a few of drops of her pussy juice run down her inner thighs. Then she bent at the hips, stuck out her ass as far as it would go. The cool air-conditioned air found her nether lips and she sucked in a breath as the sudden coolness met her wetness.
She picked up her gauzy pink panties and on impulse, half turned, spread the garment out between her fingers as though showing it to him. Almost like an offering. She thought she heard a gasp. Probably when he realized what the little nothing made of air and froth was. Or maybe it was her imagination.
Her legs were trembling, and yet her whole body was vibrating with excitement. She could feel the thrill of last time multiplied a hundred fold with this situation. The last time it had been accidental, unintended and completely unplanned.
Today, she was in charge and loving every second of it. Her head swam with the naughtiness of her actions. Practically naked in front of a lowly cleaning boy. Probably an uneducated kind from the village. Delicious!
Swati then proceeded to give him a show. A show that Ramesh watched with rapt attention, saying not one word. A show that Ramesh would narrate more or less faithfully to his friend, Prakash.
She could not have known if he had taken his phone out and taken a video. She hoped not. That would complicate things.
As she bent for the final time to retrieve the bra, she had an orgasm without even touching herself. She was shocked, and a small cry escaped her throat. She shuddered for a few seconds and almost blacked out before her senses returned and she remembered where she was and what she was doing.
She considered showing him wearing her bra but then she thought about how she would have to take her kameez off and show him her naked breasts. She wasn’t ready for that. Not yet…
She picked up her bra and stuffed it into her bag.
As she reached the door and plucked her chunni from the hook, she had a sudden thought and turned. “See you tomorrow?”
Her legs still felt weak and shaky, especially after what happened at the end. She couldn’t believe what she had done. Her pussy was as wet as it had ever been, her panties were soaked and she knew when she sat in the car, the seat underneath would have a large wet spot, not to mention her salwar would be drenched as well.
She had given Ramesh the show she had imagined on that first day just about a week ago, before going off to sleep. And then things had evolved and had sort of taken on a life of their own after that.
Somehow, she had continued to follow her instincts, something deep within her that said giving Ramesh some thrills was a good thing, almost on par with social service or charity work like those pious high-society women in Mumbai did.
Yes, she was in the high middle class, living in her swanky apartment and commuting to office in a high end car, working in a highly sought after job, but she had paid her dues, done the hard work, the shitty work, and now she deserved to relax a little.
True, she would have preferred to do that relaxation, whatever form it might take, with her husband, but that ship seemed to have sailed. Her husband seemed to have a pretty good parallel life of his own that intersected with hers very little if at all. Ships in the night, she sometimes thought.
Why was she doing what she was doing? She sat in her car, engine still off, and thought about it. The truth was, there was something in Ramesh that triggered these positive reactions in her; it was his lower caste-ness, his subordinate position in the company, in society itself, that lent itself to such a satisfactory reaction in her.
That she was subordinating herself, her body, to this lower caste man, that she was debasing herself both in her and his eyes, was really the excitement, the thrill. It would not have been half as thrilling if it had been Datta, the CEO of the company, or even Roger, the manager here in Gurugram, or any of the dozen or so men in the company who had at one time or the other sent her clear signals that they were interested. Signals she had rebuffed or ignored.
She actually had the reputation of being a dragon among her juniors and they feared her a little. That was good, from a career point of view.
The next time Ramesh was due—she looked up the cleaner’s schedule on the company intranet, and although she could not know it would be him that showed up, she had nevertheless waited for him.
She finished her work for the day—going over the final details of her new networking project—and she moved the large VxWorks manual out of the way so it would not obstruct anything. It had been a hard day with the work, managing the different personalities on her team, and the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach each time she saw a man in a chaprasi uniform or when she thought about what she planned to do later that day.
Ashok was out of town for that week, so it was going to be just Dhruv and Parvati at home. Dhruv had a playdate in the same buildings so he would be occupied, and Swati could do her “thing” guilt free.
The time arrived, and the butterflies intensified in her stomach. She had to go to the bathroom several times. The rest of the office left for the day, and she was finally alone.
As before, she had undressed, not completely, but wearing just her top.
Before Ramesh was to arrive, she dropped her clothes in a pile next to her, just like the last time, with the bra prominently on top.
She kept her kameez on, but if she so much as breathed in, her aureoles and nipples would be visible to anyone except a blind man.
If she thought about it, there had been something deliberate in the choice of what she wore to work that day. She’d chosen a mid thigh, high slit kameez that she usually wore with a slip because it was so see-through. She’d skipped the slip that day, but the dupatta’s folds provided adequate cover during the day. Now the dupatta hung by the hook on the back of the door.
And now, she was braless too, so her prominent nipples, erect with anticipation were poking tents in the sheer fabric. She spread her legs and slowly fingered herself. She needed no porn today, just the anticipation was enough.
She’d put a hand towel under her ass because she knew she would be soaking wet by the time the evening was done. It surprised her, this generous lubrication, just by the thought of something that not even her raunchiest porn could do for her.
She had gotten into watching porn online after her one time room mate, Neetu, in college had introduced her to the limitlessness of smut online.
Since then, she had evolved in her tastes and now preferred to watch gangbang type porn, but read more of the humiliation and submission subgenera. Because in porn action in the moment was king.
But stories that built slowly and opened possibilities to the imagination were ultimately more engaging and satisfying. One could revisit them in the mind over and over, changing the possibilities in a way that was difficult to do with video material. Whoever said that the mind was the biggest sex organ wasn’t far wrong.
She and Neetu occasionally met up for lunch and discussed these matters, their sex lives and what else was going on in each others’ lives.
So far she had hinted to Neetu that there was a cleaning boy in the office that was sort of having a crush on her and that she found it “cute.” She had mentioned being almost caught in the act of masturbating in the office after hours, but had downplayed the interaction after that.
Eventually she would tell her all, she knew because that’s what best friends did.
All this went through her mind as she gently rubbed along her slit, up and down along the rim, not even entering her opening, occasionally rubbing her clitoris and waited for Ramesh to arrive. Her heart was beating furiously, and she was breathing hard.
Also, she was leaking profusely and thinking about what she would do when the guy did arrive. She didn’t have a fixed plan but rather planned to go with her gut. Go as the fancy took her.
She must have been in position on her chair, behind her desk, for some fifteen minutes and was practically dying of anticipation when she heard the soft knock at the door. She was shocked to think that he might have not knocked at all if he’d seen her lights, perhaps thinking she was busy. After all, the last time had been a little awkward if one were to look at it from his point of view.
She cleared her throat and croaked out, “Come in!”
Her head was spinning with the heady feeling of doing something taboo and naughty and completely crazy. The door opened and Ramesh’s head poked in. He had a neutral, slightly stupid expression she remembered from last time.
She might have smiled or not, she couldn’t be sure. Then she said the first thing that came into her head. “I was almost done. Leaving actually. Come on in.”
She pulled her hand out from between her legs, and pushed back her chair with a little force, unlike the last time when she had moved a few tentative inches. This time she was brazen. A whole foot, maybe eighteen inches is how far back the push took her. She was sure he could see her bare lower thighs, knees and legs below where her top ended.
She stood up before she could chicken out and hide again in the kneehole, and almost stumbled, caught her knee on the tables edge, not hard, just a minor scbang. The kameez had been rucked up, and now it fell and covered her front. She was excruciatingly aware of the shortness of the kameez and the high slits that would show her upper thighs if she turned. But that was the whole point, wasn’t it?
She gathered herself, then twirled, very slowly, as though she were a model on a catwalk and stood still for a few seconds gathering herself. Her kameez didn’t flare with the twirl, but she was sure Ramesh got an eyeful.
Her skin burned with electric tingles. Her nipples, already hard, hardened further and her pussy sizzled. She felt a few of drops of her pussy juice run down her inner thighs. Then she bent at the hips, stuck out her ass as far as it would go. The cool air-conditioned air found her nether lips and she sucked in a breath as the sudden coolness met her wetness.
She picked up her gauzy pink panties and on impulse, half turned, spread the garment out between her fingers as though showing it to him. Almost like an offering. She thought she heard a gasp. Probably when he realized what the little nothing made of air and froth was. Or maybe it was her imagination.
Her legs were trembling, and yet her whole body was vibrating with excitement. She could feel the thrill of last time multiplied a hundred fold with this situation. The last time it had been accidental, unintended and completely unplanned.
Today, she was in charge and loving every second of it. Her head swam with the naughtiness of her actions. Practically naked in front of a lowly cleaning boy. Probably an uneducated kind from the village. Delicious!
Swati then proceeded to give him a show. A show that Ramesh watched with rapt attention, saying not one word. A show that Ramesh would narrate more or less faithfully to his friend, Prakash.
She could not have known if he had taken his phone out and taken a video. She hoped not. That would complicate things.
As she bent for the final time to retrieve the bra, she had an orgasm without even touching herself. She was shocked, and a small cry escaped her throat. She shuddered for a few seconds and almost blacked out before her senses returned and she remembered where she was and what she was doing.
She considered showing him wearing her bra but then she thought about how she would have to take her kameez off and show him her naked breasts. She wasn’t ready for that. Not yet…
She picked up her bra and stuffed it into her bag.
As she reached the door and plucked her chunni from the hook, she had a sudden thought and turned. “See you tomorrow?”
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)