Misc. Erotica Indian Wife in the Prison of Spring. By: aurelius1982 (Completed)
#10
"The subtext I see is, she is drowning in semen...which symbolizes that she is being very promiscuous. And maybe she is in trouble because of it. Hence the tears which also look like semen. Or maybe someone came on her face. The mention of the name Brad suggests that he is maybe her boyfriend or husband. But she is angry with him or dissatisfied with him for some reason. So she doesn't care. She would rather drown in this ocean of semen, continue her promiscuous life, than reach out to her man for help."

Dutt stopped talking and was a little impressed with himself. He had thought of the whole thing at the last minute. But it seemed like a great way to casually introduce the subject of sex in their interaction. He saw she was still blushing like the simple shy housewife she was. But he stared at her pointedly as if waiting for her response.

"I guess so." Mansi finally gave in to his stare. And then quickly walked to the next painting.

At that moment, Mansi was so uncomfortable with the topic that she couldn't look at the painting anymore. But days and weeks later, as things progressed, she would often think back to that painting and identify with it and the interpretation Dutt came up with.

---

As they covered the rest of the exhibition, Dutt noticed that the innocent chaste housewife had gone into a bit of a shell. So he didn't really push her too much. In describing the other paintings, he did not make any more erotic references. And when she kept refusing champagne, he did not insist. An hour or so passed and Mansi seemed to be returning to normal. But she soon looked at her watch and said she needed to get home for her daughter. Dutt nodded and called his driver.

"So Mansi..." Dutt said about halfway to her house. "Tomorrow, I was thinking of doing some shopping for my family. For my granddaughters and so on. As you can imagine, I am just completely clueless about these things being a man."

"Amar is the same." Mansi smiled. "Once I sent him to buy some clothes for Pinky and he came back with such outsized things."

"Haha, indeed. So I was wondering, would you mind helping me out? Just come along and pick things out." he casually said.

"Oh..." Mansi thought about his question. Was this the trial run for her "job" that she had talked with Reena aunty about? But she had said she will arrange it. Here he was asking for it himself.

"I understand if you're busy and don't want to spend more time with a boring old man." Dutt knew that self-deprecation was a great tool.

"No no, please, Duttsahab, nothing like that. I will be happy to help." Mansi said. It was just shopping, she thought to herself. One of her favorite activities. Seemed like an ideal setting to spend time with him alone and get paid for it.

"Great. I will SMS you the time I will pick you up. You have my number, right?"

"Yes, I do."

When she got out of the fancy limo in front of her building, there were a few kids playing around who stopped and stared at the car. Such expensive vehicles didn't frequent their colony much. There were also a few neighbors out in the balcony. Mansi smiled at them and headed home. Pinky would be back from college soon, and she needed to start cooking. She changed out of her fancy sari into a regular household one and got to work.

As Mansi cooked and did her chores, she thought about the events of the day. She had gotten a job and that too very easily. And it fit right in her schedule. She had been paid five thousand rupees. Maybe it was a little high because it was the first payment. But even if she got, say, half of that on average. Reena aunty had said he would need her services 3-4 times a month. So about eight thousand rupees on average. If she put it all into the account for Pinky's college, it would be roughly a lakh rupees a year. In another ten years, if she did such jobs, about ten lakhs. Plus interest. It would be a decent bird's nest for her daughter's education.

Then she thought about how to tell this to Amar. Would he find that arrangement weird? What if he expressly rejected it? He could be so strange when it came to matters of money and ideals. Mansi decided to think about that later. Tomorrow will be a trial run anyway, she told herself. If things didn't work out, she didn't want to talk about it too early. So she postponed that decision to the next day.

But as it turned out, it wasn't in her control. In the evening, she was having dinner with Amar in the living room. Pinky was busy watching cartoons on TV as she ate, which was her habit. Amar was quieter then usual. Finally he said,

"So Mansi, how was your day?"

She was surprised. He never asked her this question.

"It was okay." she said.

"Did you go anywhere?" he pointedly asked.

She knew the man for 8 years. She knew he wasn't one to ask such questions casually. She also knew her big mouthed neighbors, many of whom had seen her get out of the fancy limo dressed like she was returning from a wedding or a big function.

"Yes, I did go out for a while." she said, thinking in parallel about what to say next.

"Where?" Amar paused to swallow the food in his mouth and asked.

"Bandra." she said, taking a big bite of the food.

"How come?"

Mansi held up her finger and nodded as if to say, just let me swallow this and I'll tell you. Meanwhile her brain was working at a rapid pace to come up with the right responses.

"It was like a job interview of sorts. Nothing is final. I still have to go tomorrow. But if everything works out, I will have a job that doesn't require too much work and pays reasonably okay."

"Oh! That's nice." Amar said in a neutral tone. "What kind of a job?"

Mansi opened her mouth to tell him the whole story. But then something in her brain said, be careful. The whole thing sounds ridiculous and shady. Some rich old man is going to pay your just for your company? She knew Reena aunty and Dutt sahab were good decent people. But Amar didn't know them. He would be very suspicious. So she starte talking and found herself weaving a story with partial truths and a lot of untruths.

"A few days ago when I was out with Pinky, I ran into an old family friend from Meerut. Reena aunty. Reena Bajaj. She works at a four star hotel as an assistant manager. We spent some time catching up. And I just mentioned to her that I was thinking of getting a job. So she called me yesterday saying she could use me in the hotel."

"Use you how?"

Mansi couldn't believe how quickly she came up with a convincing story.

"Well, you know me. It's not like I have qualifications or any professional skills. And I have so much work at home with Pinky with her studies etc. So she came up with an idea. You know how these hotels host special events and conferences once in a while. She said I could help her out with that. They always hire temps or students for such work."

"What work?"

"Just...helping out with the event." having never been to such an event herself, she didn't know what exactly it entailed. She had just seen the signs for the events in Reena aunty's hotel and seen crowds of people with name tags around their necks. Which is how she thought of the idea.

"You mean like...registration desk, displays, maybe helping with catering, etc?" Amar said, having been to a few academic conferences.

"Yes, exactly."

"Hmmm." he said.

"It will only be a few days a month. And the extra money I get can either be used for household expenses or we can put it in Pinky's college account."

"Hmmmm." Amar said. "And how come you got out of a fancy limousine today?"

Ah, there came the confirmation that one of the gabbing neighbors had mentioned it to Amar. And she knew exactly how it must have happened too. Not in a suggestive or conspiratorial way, but in a joking way. Like, oh, that was quite a fancy limo Mansi was in today afternoon. We didn't know you were so rich, professor sahab.

"Yes, it was one of the hotel limos. It was going in this direction anyway to pick up a guest so Reena aunty asked him to drop me off."

"I see. Why didn't you tell me?" he said.

"Like I said, it isn't final. I have to go again tomorrow. I was waiting until it was confirmed. As it is, you seem very...never mind." Mansi bit her tongue.

"I seem what?"

"You seem to find the whole idea of me finding a job so amusing." she said a little bitterly.

"I never said that." Amar got defensive. "I just meant that we need not be so materialistic. But if a job makes you happy and gives you satisfaction, go for it."

And the topic ended there.

----

The next morning, Mansi kept checking her phone every few minutes to see if there was a message from Dutt Sahab. Now that she had made up a half-true story about the job, she might as well go through with it. She felt a little guilty for lying to Amar. And she also felt a little surprised and insulted that he never asked how much her salary would be. Maybe he assumed that given the low level simple job she described, it would be paltry. Well, she could surprise him a few years later. he never checked bank accounts anyway. So he had no idea what the balance of Pinky's college account was. Years later, once she had saved up lakhs, he would thank her, she told herself.

She went to the closest ATM and deposited the money into that account. Then she started cooking a simple meal for herself.

It was a little past noon and she was having a quick lunch when Mansi's phone buzzed. Eagerly, she checked it.

- Hello Mansi. This is Navin Dutt. Sorry I was unable to text earlier. Was busy with meetings and calls. I will be there at your building in ten minutes. Come down whenever you can. No hurry.

Just ten minutes? Mansi immediately put her plate away and went to the bedroom to get ready. He had said no hurry, but she did not want to keep him waiting. After all, it was almost like a job interview, this trial trip with him. What would he feel if she was late?

Little did she know that the experienced businessman negotiator, an expert at mind games, had done this on purpose. He had not been busy or anything. He wanted to see that if he gave her such short notice, how quickly she would comply. He wanted to test just how much of a hold he had over her.

- Will be down soon

She texted back and changed into a nicer sari. It wasn't quite as fancy as the other two she had worn. But was decent enough for a trip to the high end shopping stores he was sure to take her to. She tied her hair into a neat bun and wore a couple of her nicest bangles. From her window, she saw a big limo pulling up in front of her building. Quickly she applied some powder and a light lip stick and ran down.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting." Mansi breathlessly said as she got into the limo.

Dutt threw a quick glance at her heaving chest, beads of sweat on her neck, and looked up at her flushed face. He realized she had come almost running. He took it as a good sign that she did not want to keep him waiting. Oh, if only she would not make him wait for other things too, he thought.

"Relax, Mansi. There's no hurry, I said." and he gently rubbed her shoulder. It was a quick rub. Mansi had by now grown accustomed to the fact that the old man occasionally did such things. But it was just for a short while so she told herself it was all very innocent and paternal.

"So...where should we go?" Mansi said, wiping the sweat off her brow. It was a particularly humid day, even by Bombay standards.

"You are the local. You tell me where I will find great clothes and toys for children." Dutt said.

Her first instinct was to take him to the places she bought Pinky's clothes from. But then she remembered that this was a super rich tycoon. All those places might be too low end for him. So she told the driver the location of an upscale mall in Goregaon which had a few American and European outlets.

"Please excuse me." Dutt said, putting his bluetooth on his ear. "As always, work beckons."

"No problem, Duttsahab." Mansi said.

The car soon sped down the western express highway as Dutt talked business and Mansi stared out the tinted windows. Once again, she noted how different Bombay looked from the insides of a plush limo as opposed to from the insides of an auto rickshaw or local train like she was used to. That's when her phone rang. It was Reena aunty.

"Hello aunty." she answered in a low voice to not disturb the busy Duttsahab.

"So Mansi, you were so eager that you made this arrangement without me?" Reena said in mock disappointment.

"What? No...I thought..."

"Relax, sweetie, I am just kidding." Reena laughed. "Is Duttsahab free?"

"No, he is on the phone."

"Okay, no problem. I spoke with him earlier about this. So you are accompanying him shopping for his grandkids, right?"

"Right."

"For the compensation for today, I had this idea. If you like something for Pinky, you can buy it and he will just pay for it. If not, I will give you the cash when we next meet. Or you can just sms me the details of that bank account you have set up for the college funds. I will communicate it to him and he will transfer the cash directly."

"Oh ok." Mansi said. She told herself that clothes from where Dutt shopped would be too expensive for Pinky. Better to just sms the account details.

"Good luck." and Reena hung up.

They reached the mall and went up to the fancy outlets for kids' clothes. Mansi had seen these outlets from outside when they occasionally went to watch a movie at the multiplex in that mall. But she had never had the courage to actually walk in. Now that she was inside, she noted to herself that she didn't feel as out of place as she used to. Maybe the time spent with her two older friends in recent days had made her more uncomfortable in such settings.

Dutt also noted that Mansi was a lot more comfortable and self-assured. He took out his phone and showed her several pictures of his grandkids so she had an idea of what would fit and suit them. She made a mental note of it all.

"How many clothes do you want to buy for them?" she asked.

"As many as you find to be great." Dutt said with the casualness of a multi millionaire.

Mansi nodded and browsed through the shelves and the rows, trying to find something perfect. She saw the prices, which were really high, but on the tags, she also noticed that many of these clothes were made in Italy or France. All this while, a salesman was hovering politely a few feet away. Finally Mansi found a sweatshirt that would be perfect for one of his granddaughters.

"This one is really good." she said, taking it off the shelf and holding it up.

"Looks very pretty." Dutt nodded.

The salesman hovered closer.

"Would you like that one, sir?" he asked Dutt, because it was obvious who was in charge.

"Ask madam."

"Ma'am?"

"It's not bad. But the price seems a little too much. Give us a more realistic price." Mansi really liked the dress, but she was so used to haggling as a daily routine, that she almost instinctively said this.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" the salesman was taken aback.

"The price says...3500 rupees. How about...1500?" Mansi said in her best haggling voice.

"Ma'am...Sir..." the salesman was so confused.

"Would you excuse us for a moment?" Dutt smoothly said.

The salesman nodded and walked away. Dutt then walked up to Mansi and said softly but firmly,

"Mansi, what are you doing? This is not some bargain stall from Linking Road. These people don't bargain. The prices are fixed."

Mansi blushed and felt very embarrassed. She was so used to bargaining for clothes than she did not know this would be out of place.

"I...I am sorry." she stuttered.

"It's okay. I understand." Dutt said, and put an arm around her shoulder to gently press it in solidarity.

Mansi had to fight off a shiver. So far his touches, after he taught her to use the chopsticks, had been occasional and fleeting. This was something a lot closer. A lot more expansive. He had almost engulfed her petite body in her casual embrace. She even felt one of her breasts gently press against his side. What bothered her was that the act hadn't bothered her. It made her feel almost...excited.

Dutt gauged her reaction instantly, and held her like that for a few more seconds. Then he felt Mansi stiffened as the natural reaction of her body gave way to cultural discomfort. He let go at once.

"You can put this one aside." he raised his finger and said to the salesman.

The salesman was lost in thought, trying to figure out these two people. He wasn't sure exactly what they were. Didn't seem like father-daughter. Didn't seem like a couple either. The old man was clearly a rich polished guy and the young woman was a middle class type. She seemed too decent and homely to be a call girl. And she did not seem like a working professional, so was not his employee either. So what were they exactly? That's when Dutt called him over.

"Yes sir." he said and took the sweatshirt aside.

Although Mansi felt embarrassed at being gently scolded for bargaining and a little disconcerted at what she had felt when Dutt gently put his arm around her, she tried to shake it off and concentrate on the job at hand. Dutt knew that he had taken another slow but steady step so he stood back. And decided to make some calls while Mansi shopped.

At the end of an hour, Mansi had chosen almost a dozen different clothes for his grandkids.

"Is that everything?" the salesman asked.

Dutt looked at Mansi and said,

"Why don't you get something for Pinky as well? My gift to her." there was a slightly suggestive tone in his voice.

"For Pinky?"

Actually, Mansi had seen a couple of really gorgeous frocks that would look great on Pinky. But the price was so high that they would use up her compensation for the day, assuming it was again five thousand rupees. And in fact leave her a little bit in debt to him.

But then on an impulse, Mansi decided, why not? She knew how much Pinky loved such new clothes. Mansi had already saved five thousand on household spending because of the gift card. She had deposited the other five thousand in the college account. So, she told herself, a little indulgence for this month is okay. Especially for Pinky's happiness. Being in that high end expensive college, her classmates always wore clothes that were more elegant and expensive at college events and get together. This would make her fit in.

So Mansi went and picked up the two frocks. Dutt smiled and asked the salesman to pack those separately. He paid for the entire thing and called his driver to come pick up the bags and take them to the car.

The old man and the young housewife then went to a toy showroom and then to a fancy Belgian chocolate shop. Mansi gave her opinions on what to buy, and finally their shopping for the day was done.

They were walking back towards the lift to go down when Dutt suddenly stopped outside a women's clothing store. Mansi stopped too. He was looking at a mannequin dressed in a black formal dress.

"Mansi...let me ask you something."

"Yes, Duttsahab?"

"I have a corporate lunch event to attend next Thursday in Worli. Would you...like to accompany me?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

Mansi looked at him. She knew the meaning of what he was asking. Was she happy with this trial run and would she be interested in continuing this arrangement? She thought for a few seconds. She continued to find him very nice and charming and polite. The money was good. The hours were great. And it was for Pinky's happiness and future. It was a no-brainer really.

"I'd be happy to." she nodded.

"Great. Well...it's an event organized on the roof deck of a tall building. I don't know those idiots want to organize an outdoor event in this heat, but that's how it is. If you wear a sari, you might feel a little too hot and sweaty. Do you have something like this?" he pointed to the dress.

Contd....
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RE: Indian Wife in the Prison of Spring. By: aurelius1982 - by Blue Bull - 28-01-2022, 10:25 PM



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