23-12-2018, 03:17 PM
(This post was last modified: 20-06-2020, 03:35 AM by Ramesh_Rocky. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
I was in the train working on my presentations and going over the reports. But in the back of my mind, I kept thinking about what was happening at home. After it got dark, the train attendants came with my dinner. And I realized it must be dinner time back home too.
I had decided to remain incommunicado with my wife for the whole weekend. But I still needed to know if things had gotten started at least. So I sms-ed her.
- Is Shyam there for dinner?
She responded quickly.
- No.
I checked the time. He should have gone there by now. Work was long over. I called him.
"Shyam, what is this? Bela tells me you haven't gone there for dinner?"
"Sir....I didn't want to cause any inconvenience. So I just bought some food."
"Shyam, I thought we settled this." I raised my voice. "Go over right now."
"Are you sure, sir?"
"Yes. This is an order."
"Okay sir."
I started having dinner and soon a message arrived from Bela.
- He is here.
I sat back and enjoyed my dinner, knowing that the little experiment I had started was now in effect. I had gotten these two shy and passive individuals, with a weird erotic history scripted by me, to spend time alone together for an entire weekend. All I had to do was be patient, and then check the results on Monday.
Keeping myself out of the proceedings turned out to be way more difficult than I thought. I now wished I had set up some sort of a live feed to watch everything in action. But I also knew that the anticipation makes the payoff even sweeter.
I tried to take a nap. It was a short one. I kept checking my phone to see if Bela had sent any messages or updates or questions. But she had taken my instructions to heart at least in that regard. What else was happening though?
Finally my willpower broke. I told myself, just one message. One last message. And then nothing. At about midnight, I sent her a text.
- Is Shyam still there?
She responded after a few minutes.
- No he left a while ago.
That made my heart sink a little. I wasn't sure exactly what I had expected or even desired. Did I want them to just start fucking right away, recreate a situation like Riaz? or did I want things to stay as they were? If she had to take another lover to bed, Shyam was the most practical choice. He worked under me, he was decent, he was well-behaved, and was trustworthy. And his family would be here in a few months, so there would be nothing long term.
A possessive part of me was still a little upset at myself for what I had set up. And yet the kinky perverted part of me was disappointed that he had not spent the night.
Thankfully, what I had said to Bela about me being really busy with presentations and meetings and reports all weekend was true. From the moment the train reached Delhi that morning, work took its toll. I was so busy that I barely got a chance to even think about what was happening back home. At night, some bosses took me out for drinks. I was out with them till late at night, and then collapsed in my bed. The same routine repeated the next day.
I was utterly exhausted on Sunday night when I got on the train home. I managed to check my phone after hours. Still no messages or calls from Bela. I would see her the next morning anyway. But still, the silence in texts was deafening. I messaged her.
- On the train back. See you soon after dawn.
She replied.
- Ok
I couldn't resist having some curious back and forth.
- How was your weekend?
- It was fine, ji
- Did you have fun?
- Yes.
- What did you do?
- I did what you told me to, ji.
Ooooh. The next question was on the tip of my fingers. But I resisted.
-----------
The train was a little late getting back. As my taxi pulled up near our house, I saw Shyam starting his scooter.
"Hey Shyam, good morning!" I said as I got out.
"Good....good morning sir." he sounded nervous. "I have to go to the office. The first shift is having some coordination issues and the machines, you know, well, how the machines are...."
He was almost shivering and revving up his engine.
"Yeah, but listen....."
"Sir, I will see you at the office." he said, and without waiting for my response, sped off.
I turned towards the house and saw Bela standing there in a sari. That confused me a little. A sari was always the sign that she was being demure. But Shyam rushing off like that meant something at least had happened.
As I walked in the door, Bela took my bag and walked inside.
"Tea is ready." she simply said.
"Shyam just avoided talking to me like the plague. Seemed very awkward and nervous. What happened when I was out of town?" I aske.
"Why don't you ask him?" Bela shrugged, putting biscuits on the tray next to the tea.
"He went away before I could ask him."
"You have your cameras. Didn't you see everything?" she asked.
"No, I told you, it's just recording. I won't be able to see it till later. Plus it will be almost 60 hours of footage."
She said nothing. Just handed me the tea.
"Going through the footage will take time. Just tell me what happened."
She blushed, and her expression seemed to waver for a bit. Much like when she would start crying. I was tempted to just ask her, did you guys have sex? And put on my authoritative husband voice and command her. But I didn't want to set off another round of bawling.
"Bela, sweetie." I put my arm around her. "You know I love you. Just tell me."
"Please, ji, these things are not easy for me to talk about. You know how bad I am with talking." she said.
"Just tell me slowly from the start. At your own pace. I will ask questions if need be."
"Okay." she sipped the tea and sighed.
Bela started telling me her story in her typical shy laconic way. Many times she just clammed up. I had to coax and prod her. Question her. Allow for long moments of silence and blushing. Luckily, no crying. Took me a couple of hours to get this part of the story out that barely covered twelve hours out of the sixty. I present it here in an edited narrative form, not the rambling way I had to coax it out. I have replaced her shy words for anatomy with more explicit ones. Occasionally I put in my own questions or comments as (Gautam).
(Bela's narration).
You left Friday afternoon. You had told him to come over for dinner even if you weren't around. So I was preparing food accordingly. But he did not come at the regular time. From the window I checked out the lights next door and I saw he was home. Maybe he was being shy. Then you messaged and asked me if he had come and I told you no. He came over shortly after.
"Yes, I called him and coaxed him to go over and not be shy." (Gautam)
Well, he rang the doorbell. I opened it and he came in, looking hesitant.
"Did you open it like you often do, hehe?" (Gautam)
No. Without you around, I didn't know if it was appropriate. I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, with bra and panties underneath. He came in. I asked him to have a seat in the living room and went to the kitchen. He asked if he could watch some cricket match and I said sure and turned the TV on. I asked him if he would like whiskey like always and he said yes. I served him a big drink with some snacks and went to the kitchen. He watched the match for a while. I refilled his drink again.
I think after a couple of drinks, he got some courage. He came to the kitchen and just stood there looking at me for a while. I didn't say anything. I remembered your instructions about doing whatever he says or wants. But you had not told me to take the initiative for anything, so I assumed that was not allowed. I stuck to that assumption all weekend.
Anyway, he spoke up after a while. Said it is a very hot day. I said yes it is. He took a few more sips and asked me,
"Bhabhiji, why aren't you....more comfortably dressed?"
"What do you mean, Shyamji?"
"You know....it's a hot day."
"Yes, it is."
"Did sir ask you to....dress differently while he is away?"
"No, he did not say anything about it."
"Ok....ok." he said. He opened his mouth a couple of times. But didn't say anything.
And then he went back to the living room. I think he lost his nerve for the moment. But after another drink he came back.
"Aren't you uncomfortable in the shorts on such a hot day?"
"It's not a big deal, Shyamji."
"Well, in recent days, you know....I mean with everything.....what I mean is.....you must not be used to wearing so many clothes on a hot day in a hot kitchen. You know. It might seem clumsy."
"I suppose." I said.
"Why don't you......" he took a big gulp of the drink. ".....just take your shorts off?"
"Do you want me to take them off?" I asked so he was clear. I was told to follow his wishes. This seemed more like a suggestion, not explicit.
"If you want, bhabhiji."
"It makes no difference to me." I said.
He stayed quiet for a while as if trying to assess the situation.
"I.....well to be honest.....please don't feel offended. I know sir isn't here and all. But honestly, yes, I do want you take them off."
"Ok, as you wish, Shyamji." And
I wiped my hands with a napkin and quickly took my shorts off. He inhaled audibly.
"The...the...panties too."
"Ok." And I slipped off my panties as well.
He looked like he had won the lottery. I wondered why. He had already seen me like that many times. In fact he had even seen me fully naked. But perhaps having me obey him made him feel special. Me doing it in your absence seemed special to him. He gazed at my ass for a while like he often does, but from a few feet away. Then he went outside again, turned the TV off and sat down at the dining table watching me from behind like you two always did.
"Sir is right." he said after a few minutes. "You really have the most amazing ass I have ever seen."
"Thank you, Shyamji." I said. "How many rotis will you have?"
"Excuse me?" he seemed a little thrown off by my practical question.
"I am almost done with everything else. I am going to start the rotis."
"Oh...ummm....three should be enough."
"Ok." I said and reached for the flour.
"Wait, bhabhiji." he said and I stopped. "Would it be too demanding of me to ask you to take your t-shirt off?"
I didn't know exactly how to answer that question. It was not a wish or an instruction. Although in a way it was implied. I thought about what this meant in terms of obedience. But he took my silence to mean reluctance. He continued,
"I understand if you refuse. But I was thinking.....I have seen so much more in the past with sir around. So if you don't mind. Just for some fun. I mean....I promise I won't try anything untoward. I will just look." he rambled, now sounding a little drunk.
"It makes no difference to me, Shyamji. Whatever you wish."
"Then please take your t-shirt off before your hands become messy with the flour."
I nodded and did as was told. He inhaled loudly and said,
"Black....nice. I always love it when you wear a black bra. It contrasts very well with your milky white skin." he said.
He watched me make the dough standing there wearing just that bra and the mangalsutra. Once the dough was made, I washed my hands and started taking the other food to the table. He stared at my pussy as I laid out his plate and started serving him the dal, sabji, raita, chutney etc. Many times, I think he was tempted to reach out and touch me but he restrained himself. I don't think he realized yet how much control he had over me.
I made the first roti and walked over to put it on his plate.
"Thank you, bhabhiji."
"Your'e welcome, Shyamji."
As I started making the second roti, he started talking,
"You have no idea how much I appreciate everything you and sir are doing for me. Hot food every night. Rotis fresh off the tava. Even my wife doesn't do that. And then this thing with the clothes. I mean.....honestly bhabhiji, I don't understand it. But I am not going to complain obviously. Hahaha."
I didn't say anything. When I came over to give him the second roti, he noticed the sheen of sweat on my shoulder and cleavage that always happens when I am making rotis over the hot stove.
"Bhabhiji, will you feel more comfortable if you take the bra off as well?"
I wondered about what to say. Because truthfully, I would not. Not because I had any modesty or concern about being fully naked. But because without a bra, my boobs jiggled around a lot when I was cooking, especially making rotis. But if I said no, he might take it as a refusal. Instead I said,
"What is your preference, Shyamji?"
"My preference is that you keep it on."
"Okay." and I went back to the stove, feeling thankful.
"Do you know why that's my preference?"
"No."
"I think your breasts are beautiful. But in all that time when sir slowly stripped you in front of me, my favorite was this look. It's been like a small fetish of mine for years. A woman wearing only a bra. Especially a big breasted woman like yourself. And especially a black bra on fair skin. And that mangalsutra, a reminder that you are a wife, cherry on top of the cleavage."
I stayed silent. He kept watching and eating. I could see that he had an erection. I wondered if he would stay true to his word or if he would try something. I gave him the third roti. This time he was staring at my pussy very intently.
"Bhabhiji, if you don't mind, can I ask you something personal?"
"You can ask me anything you wish, Shyamji."
"Your hair down there. It used to be all bald. Then you did this thing with the line of hair."
'Yes."
"Why? Did sir tell you to do it?"
"No. I thought of it myself. I thought it looks nicer." I said, blushing a little.
"Where did you get the idea for the....design?"
"From a film I watched with him." I blushed again.
"A blue film?" he opened his mouth wide.
"Yes. A woman in it had it shaved like that and I thought it looked nice."
"You two watch blue films regularly?"
"Sometimes."
"Wow!!" he seemed really tickled by the idea.
By then I had finished making my own two rotis. I came over with them and started serving my plate. And I sat across from him as usual.
"Bhabhiji, you know, whenever you sit like that over there, I can't see a lot. Do you mind sitting next to me please?"
"Sure." And I moved over to the chair next to him.
I started eating. He was done by now. But instead of washing his hands, he just sat there staring at me and breathing heavily. He didn't say anything more for a while. I got done eating and started clearing up the table.
"Bhabhiji, I know sometimes you put your clothes back on after dinner."
"Sometimes." It hadn't happened in a few weeks. But then I hadn't been fully clothed when he came most of those days either. Maybe he assumed that with you not around, the old rules applied.
"Do you mind not putting clothes back on? I would like to keep watching you looking sexy like this, just in a bra."
"Ok. For how long?"
"Until I tell you." he said, sounding a little nervous about his demand.
"As you say, Shyamji."
I went to the kitchen sink to wash the dishes. He took a few steps behind me.
"You always do this alone. Do you want my help? At home I always help my wife with the dishes." Shyam said.
"That's not necessary, Shyamji."
"Please, I insist. I want to help."
Under your rules, if he wanted it, he got it. So I nodded. For the next ten minutes, he stood right next to me, rinsing the dishes after I soaped them. It was the first time since that night with the movie that he had been so close to me. I could see the tent in his pants. It kept rubbing against the kitchen counter. Once in a while our arms would touch. A couple of times, his pants-clad hips rubbed against my naked ones. He kept glancing at my butt. There was a lot of tension in the air. Neither of us said anything.
A couple of times I thought he started moving a hand towards me as if to touch me. But he wasn't confident enough. So the tension continued. Finally we got done. Both of us dried our hands. And then we just stood there.
"If you want to go back to the living room and watch more cricket, I can bring you another drink."
"Will you sit with me?"
"If that's what you want."
"That's what I want."
He went outside and turned the TV back on. I poured him another drink and joined him on the couch. But I did not sit very close like that earlier night.
"Bhabhiji, again, I want to thank you for everything. Everything."
"Please don't mention it."
"I always want to repay your hospitality. I keep telling sir to come over but he says no need. I hope at least you will accept my invitation."
"What invitation?"
"How about tomorrow, we have lunch at my place?"
"You want me to come to your place for lunch?"
"Yes. is that okay?"
"As you wish, Shyamji."
"Great! Thank you! I have some calls until 11:30. You can come over at 11:45."
"Okay."
He seemed very happy. And genuinely happy for being to repay our hospitality, not to just get me into his home.
We sat and watched TV for a while as he sipped his drink. He seemed to be trying to build up the courage for something. And then finally he said it,
"Bhabhiji....do you remember that night, we were sitting right here?"
"Yes."
"And I was very......uncomfortable. And you...helped me out."
"Yes." I simply said.
"I am very uncomfortable today also, bhabhiji." he rubbed his crotch.
I said nothing, just looked at his face and then his crotch. Slowly he unzipped his pants and his dick sprang out. Its head was slick with precum.
"Very uncomfortable." he said suggestively.
"I can see that, Shyamji."
We were silent for a while. The implication was clear. He wanted another handjob. But the way I understood your rules, his wishes had to be made explicit. So I just sat there. Waiting for him to ask me to do it. But that silence and my sitting still made him nervous.
"I'm sorry, bhabhiji." he suddenly said loudly and put his dick away. "I am sorry. That was very bad of me. I have had too much to drink."
"It's alright, Shyamji." I said trying to calm him down.
"No no, it is my fault. If your husband is here, that is a different matter. With sir not here, I should be more...that was very stupid."
He put the glass down on the table with a thud and almost ran to the door saying,
"I am sorry, I am sorry."
And he was gone before I could say anything more.
He wanted to go home. So I let him go home. I cleaned up the kitchen, watched some more TV. Then I went to bed reading a magazine. That is when you messaged me if he was there. I said no. And then I fell asleep.
I had decided to remain incommunicado with my wife for the whole weekend. But I still needed to know if things had gotten started at least. So I sms-ed her.
- Is Shyam there for dinner?
She responded quickly.
- No.
I checked the time. He should have gone there by now. Work was long over. I called him.
"Shyam, what is this? Bela tells me you haven't gone there for dinner?"
"Sir....I didn't want to cause any inconvenience. So I just bought some food."
"Shyam, I thought we settled this." I raised my voice. "Go over right now."
"Are you sure, sir?"
"Yes. This is an order."
"Okay sir."
I started having dinner and soon a message arrived from Bela.
- He is here.
I sat back and enjoyed my dinner, knowing that the little experiment I had started was now in effect. I had gotten these two shy and passive individuals, with a weird erotic history scripted by me, to spend time alone together for an entire weekend. All I had to do was be patient, and then check the results on Monday.
Keeping myself out of the proceedings turned out to be way more difficult than I thought. I now wished I had set up some sort of a live feed to watch everything in action. But I also knew that the anticipation makes the payoff even sweeter.
I tried to take a nap. It was a short one. I kept checking my phone to see if Bela had sent any messages or updates or questions. But she had taken my instructions to heart at least in that regard. What else was happening though?
Finally my willpower broke. I told myself, just one message. One last message. And then nothing. At about midnight, I sent her a text.
- Is Shyam still there?
She responded after a few minutes.
- No he left a while ago.
That made my heart sink a little. I wasn't sure exactly what I had expected or even desired. Did I want them to just start fucking right away, recreate a situation like Riaz? or did I want things to stay as they were? If she had to take another lover to bed, Shyam was the most practical choice. He worked under me, he was decent, he was well-behaved, and was trustworthy. And his family would be here in a few months, so there would be nothing long term.
A possessive part of me was still a little upset at myself for what I had set up. And yet the kinky perverted part of me was disappointed that he had not spent the night.
Thankfully, what I had said to Bela about me being really busy with presentations and meetings and reports all weekend was true. From the moment the train reached Delhi that morning, work took its toll. I was so busy that I barely got a chance to even think about what was happening back home. At night, some bosses took me out for drinks. I was out with them till late at night, and then collapsed in my bed. The same routine repeated the next day.
I was utterly exhausted on Sunday night when I got on the train home. I managed to check my phone after hours. Still no messages or calls from Bela. I would see her the next morning anyway. But still, the silence in texts was deafening. I messaged her.
- On the train back. See you soon after dawn.
She replied.
- Ok
I couldn't resist having some curious back and forth.
- How was your weekend?
- It was fine, ji
- Did you have fun?
- Yes.
- What did you do?
- I did what you told me to, ji.
Ooooh. The next question was on the tip of my fingers. But I resisted.
-----------
The train was a little late getting back. As my taxi pulled up near our house, I saw Shyam starting his scooter.
"Hey Shyam, good morning!" I said as I got out.
"Good....good morning sir." he sounded nervous. "I have to go to the office. The first shift is having some coordination issues and the machines, you know, well, how the machines are...."
He was almost shivering and revving up his engine.
"Yeah, but listen....."
"Sir, I will see you at the office." he said, and without waiting for my response, sped off.
I turned towards the house and saw Bela standing there in a sari. That confused me a little. A sari was always the sign that she was being demure. But Shyam rushing off like that meant something at least had happened.
As I walked in the door, Bela took my bag and walked inside.
"Tea is ready." she simply said.
"Shyam just avoided talking to me like the plague. Seemed very awkward and nervous. What happened when I was out of town?" I aske.
"Why don't you ask him?" Bela shrugged, putting biscuits on the tray next to the tea.
"He went away before I could ask him."
"You have your cameras. Didn't you see everything?" she asked.
"No, I told you, it's just recording. I won't be able to see it till later. Plus it will be almost 60 hours of footage."
She said nothing. Just handed me the tea.
"Going through the footage will take time. Just tell me what happened."
She blushed, and her expression seemed to waver for a bit. Much like when she would start crying. I was tempted to just ask her, did you guys have sex? And put on my authoritative husband voice and command her. But I didn't want to set off another round of bawling.
"Bela, sweetie." I put my arm around her. "You know I love you. Just tell me."
"Please, ji, these things are not easy for me to talk about. You know how bad I am with talking." she said.
"Just tell me slowly from the start. At your own pace. I will ask questions if need be."
"Okay." she sipped the tea and sighed.
Bela started telling me her story in her typical shy laconic way. Many times she just clammed up. I had to coax and prod her. Question her. Allow for long moments of silence and blushing. Luckily, no crying. Took me a couple of hours to get this part of the story out that barely covered twelve hours out of the sixty. I present it here in an edited narrative form, not the rambling way I had to coax it out. I have replaced her shy words for anatomy with more explicit ones. Occasionally I put in my own questions or comments as (Gautam).
(Bela's narration).
You left Friday afternoon. You had told him to come over for dinner even if you weren't around. So I was preparing food accordingly. But he did not come at the regular time. From the window I checked out the lights next door and I saw he was home. Maybe he was being shy. Then you messaged and asked me if he had come and I told you no. He came over shortly after.
"Yes, I called him and coaxed him to go over and not be shy." (Gautam)
Well, he rang the doorbell. I opened it and he came in, looking hesitant.
"Did you open it like you often do, hehe?" (Gautam)
No. Without you around, I didn't know if it was appropriate. I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, with bra and panties underneath. He came in. I asked him to have a seat in the living room and went to the kitchen. He asked if he could watch some cricket match and I said sure and turned the TV on. I asked him if he would like whiskey like always and he said yes. I served him a big drink with some snacks and went to the kitchen. He watched the match for a while. I refilled his drink again.
I think after a couple of drinks, he got some courage. He came to the kitchen and just stood there looking at me for a while. I didn't say anything. I remembered your instructions about doing whatever he says or wants. But you had not told me to take the initiative for anything, so I assumed that was not allowed. I stuck to that assumption all weekend.
Anyway, he spoke up after a while. Said it is a very hot day. I said yes it is. He took a few more sips and asked me,
"Bhabhiji, why aren't you....more comfortably dressed?"
"What do you mean, Shyamji?"
"You know....it's a hot day."
"Yes, it is."
"Did sir ask you to....dress differently while he is away?"
"No, he did not say anything about it."
"Ok....ok." he said. He opened his mouth a couple of times. But didn't say anything.
And then he went back to the living room. I think he lost his nerve for the moment. But after another drink he came back.
"Aren't you uncomfortable in the shorts on such a hot day?"
"It's not a big deal, Shyamji."
"Well, in recent days, you know....I mean with everything.....what I mean is.....you must not be used to wearing so many clothes on a hot day in a hot kitchen. You know. It might seem clumsy."
"I suppose." I said.
"Why don't you......" he took a big gulp of the drink. ".....just take your shorts off?"
"Do you want me to take them off?" I asked so he was clear. I was told to follow his wishes. This seemed more like a suggestion, not explicit.
"If you want, bhabhiji."
"It makes no difference to me." I said.
He stayed quiet for a while as if trying to assess the situation.
"I.....well to be honest.....please don't feel offended. I know sir isn't here and all. But honestly, yes, I do want you take them off."
"Ok, as you wish, Shyamji." And
I wiped my hands with a napkin and quickly took my shorts off. He inhaled audibly.
"The...the...panties too."
"Ok." And I slipped off my panties as well.
He looked like he had won the lottery. I wondered why. He had already seen me like that many times. In fact he had even seen me fully naked. But perhaps having me obey him made him feel special. Me doing it in your absence seemed special to him. He gazed at my ass for a while like he often does, but from a few feet away. Then he went outside again, turned the TV off and sat down at the dining table watching me from behind like you two always did.
"Sir is right." he said after a few minutes. "You really have the most amazing ass I have ever seen."
"Thank you, Shyamji." I said. "How many rotis will you have?"
"Excuse me?" he seemed a little thrown off by my practical question.
"I am almost done with everything else. I am going to start the rotis."
"Oh...ummm....three should be enough."
"Ok." I said and reached for the flour.
"Wait, bhabhiji." he said and I stopped. "Would it be too demanding of me to ask you to take your t-shirt off?"
I didn't know exactly how to answer that question. It was not a wish or an instruction. Although in a way it was implied. I thought about what this meant in terms of obedience. But he took my silence to mean reluctance. He continued,
"I understand if you refuse. But I was thinking.....I have seen so much more in the past with sir around. So if you don't mind. Just for some fun. I mean....I promise I won't try anything untoward. I will just look." he rambled, now sounding a little drunk.
"It makes no difference to me, Shyamji. Whatever you wish."
"Then please take your t-shirt off before your hands become messy with the flour."
I nodded and did as was told. He inhaled loudly and said,
"Black....nice. I always love it when you wear a black bra. It contrasts very well with your milky white skin." he said.
He watched me make the dough standing there wearing just that bra and the mangalsutra. Once the dough was made, I washed my hands and started taking the other food to the table. He stared at my pussy as I laid out his plate and started serving him the dal, sabji, raita, chutney etc. Many times, I think he was tempted to reach out and touch me but he restrained himself. I don't think he realized yet how much control he had over me.
I made the first roti and walked over to put it on his plate.
"Thank you, bhabhiji."
"Your'e welcome, Shyamji."
As I started making the second roti, he started talking,
"You have no idea how much I appreciate everything you and sir are doing for me. Hot food every night. Rotis fresh off the tava. Even my wife doesn't do that. And then this thing with the clothes. I mean.....honestly bhabhiji, I don't understand it. But I am not going to complain obviously. Hahaha."
I didn't say anything. When I came over to give him the second roti, he noticed the sheen of sweat on my shoulder and cleavage that always happens when I am making rotis over the hot stove.
"Bhabhiji, will you feel more comfortable if you take the bra off as well?"
I wondered about what to say. Because truthfully, I would not. Not because I had any modesty or concern about being fully naked. But because without a bra, my boobs jiggled around a lot when I was cooking, especially making rotis. But if I said no, he might take it as a refusal. Instead I said,
"What is your preference, Shyamji?"
"My preference is that you keep it on."
"Okay." and I went back to the stove, feeling thankful.
"Do you know why that's my preference?"
"No."
"I think your breasts are beautiful. But in all that time when sir slowly stripped you in front of me, my favorite was this look. It's been like a small fetish of mine for years. A woman wearing only a bra. Especially a big breasted woman like yourself. And especially a black bra on fair skin. And that mangalsutra, a reminder that you are a wife, cherry on top of the cleavage."
I stayed silent. He kept watching and eating. I could see that he had an erection. I wondered if he would stay true to his word or if he would try something. I gave him the third roti. This time he was staring at my pussy very intently.
"Bhabhiji, if you don't mind, can I ask you something personal?"
"You can ask me anything you wish, Shyamji."
"Your hair down there. It used to be all bald. Then you did this thing with the line of hair."
'Yes."
"Why? Did sir tell you to do it?"
"No. I thought of it myself. I thought it looks nicer." I said, blushing a little.
"Where did you get the idea for the....design?"
"From a film I watched with him." I blushed again.
"A blue film?" he opened his mouth wide.
"Yes. A woman in it had it shaved like that and I thought it looked nice."
"You two watch blue films regularly?"
"Sometimes."
"Wow!!" he seemed really tickled by the idea.
By then I had finished making my own two rotis. I came over with them and started serving my plate. And I sat across from him as usual.
"Bhabhiji, you know, whenever you sit like that over there, I can't see a lot. Do you mind sitting next to me please?"
"Sure." And I moved over to the chair next to him.
I started eating. He was done by now. But instead of washing his hands, he just sat there staring at me and breathing heavily. He didn't say anything more for a while. I got done eating and started clearing up the table.
"Bhabhiji, I know sometimes you put your clothes back on after dinner."
"Sometimes." It hadn't happened in a few weeks. But then I hadn't been fully clothed when he came most of those days either. Maybe he assumed that with you not around, the old rules applied.
"Do you mind not putting clothes back on? I would like to keep watching you looking sexy like this, just in a bra."
"Ok. For how long?"
"Until I tell you." he said, sounding a little nervous about his demand.
"As you say, Shyamji."
I went to the kitchen sink to wash the dishes. He took a few steps behind me.
"You always do this alone. Do you want my help? At home I always help my wife with the dishes." Shyam said.
"That's not necessary, Shyamji."
"Please, I insist. I want to help."
Under your rules, if he wanted it, he got it. So I nodded. For the next ten minutes, he stood right next to me, rinsing the dishes after I soaped them. It was the first time since that night with the movie that he had been so close to me. I could see the tent in his pants. It kept rubbing against the kitchen counter. Once in a while our arms would touch. A couple of times, his pants-clad hips rubbed against my naked ones. He kept glancing at my butt. There was a lot of tension in the air. Neither of us said anything.
A couple of times I thought he started moving a hand towards me as if to touch me. But he wasn't confident enough. So the tension continued. Finally we got done. Both of us dried our hands. And then we just stood there.
"If you want to go back to the living room and watch more cricket, I can bring you another drink."
"Will you sit with me?"
"If that's what you want."
"That's what I want."
He went outside and turned the TV back on. I poured him another drink and joined him on the couch. But I did not sit very close like that earlier night.
"Bhabhiji, again, I want to thank you for everything. Everything."
"Please don't mention it."
"I always want to repay your hospitality. I keep telling sir to come over but he says no need. I hope at least you will accept my invitation."
"What invitation?"
"How about tomorrow, we have lunch at my place?"
"You want me to come to your place for lunch?"
"Yes. is that okay?"
"As you wish, Shyamji."
"Great! Thank you! I have some calls until 11:30. You can come over at 11:45."
"Okay."
He seemed very happy. And genuinely happy for being to repay our hospitality, not to just get me into his home.
We sat and watched TV for a while as he sipped his drink. He seemed to be trying to build up the courage for something. And then finally he said it,
"Bhabhiji....do you remember that night, we were sitting right here?"
"Yes."
"And I was very......uncomfortable. And you...helped me out."
"Yes." I simply said.
"I am very uncomfortable today also, bhabhiji." he rubbed his crotch.
I said nothing, just looked at his face and then his crotch. Slowly he unzipped his pants and his dick sprang out. Its head was slick with precum.
"Very uncomfortable." he said suggestively.
"I can see that, Shyamji."
We were silent for a while. The implication was clear. He wanted another handjob. But the way I understood your rules, his wishes had to be made explicit. So I just sat there. Waiting for him to ask me to do it. But that silence and my sitting still made him nervous.
"I'm sorry, bhabhiji." he suddenly said loudly and put his dick away. "I am sorry. That was very bad of me. I have had too much to drink."
"It's alright, Shyamji." I said trying to calm him down.
"No no, it is my fault. If your husband is here, that is a different matter. With sir not here, I should be more...that was very stupid."
He put the glass down on the table with a thud and almost ran to the door saying,
"I am sorry, I am sorry."
And he was gone before I could say anything more.
He wanted to go home. So I let him go home. I cleaned up the kitchen, watched some more TV. Then I went to bed reading a magazine. That is when you messaged me if he was there. I said no. And then I fell asleep.
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