Adultery My mom's treatment at the hands of commoners by debt_is_paid

[usaiha2]

 

Chapter 23
 
Mom's Narrative (with Haria)
 
"Ki hoyeche amar" ("What has happened to me"), I thought while sitting on the sofa with my legs apart, totally certain that my son is upstairs in his room studying. My clit was still sore from the abuse that I received from that young low-class doodhwala. My name is Shikha Guho. I am a wife, a mother...and a slave! Recently I was blackmailed into becoming my neighbor, that is a 55 year old man's sex slave. Yet this degradation started long before he came into my life. It's only been a month since my husband left for Delhi on one of his usual business trips. He'll probably be back soon. But ever since he left, I've felt a strange emptiness inside me. That emptiness made way for a carnal hunger and now I'm starting to get consumed by it. I want it to stop, but everytime I feel the touch of a man, my common sense retreat and my womanly instincts take over.
 
"Ajke jeta holo seta thik holo na. Amake kichu ekta korte hobe. Amake eshob thamate hobe noyto Shyam Babu amae peye boshbe." ("Whatever happened today should not have happened. If I don't put an end to this now, it will give Shyam Babu more encouragement to do what he wants."), I thought. "Doodhwala ta bachha chele chilo. Or sathe ei byapar ta etodur niye jawa thik hoyni. Kintu ami ki ba korbo Ami jodi Shyam Babu'r birudhe kichu bolte jai, tahle o amar nogno obosthay chobigulo shara parae choriye berabe." ("The milkman was a young boy. This was not supposed to go so far. But what can I do If I try to protest against Shyam Babu, then he'll expose all my nude pictures throughout the neighborhood.") My eyes became a little teary and my heart skipped a beat while thinking about the consequences if those pictures were to come out in the open.
 
I was such a devoted housewife and I still love my husband a lot. But inside, I've realized that I'm also a woman who has needs... sexual needs! This feeling inside me, I have to control it! I have to stop it from taking over my conscience!
 
I have no idea how it started. I used to get a lot of attention from the neighbors. I've recently started to notice how both old and young men leer at me like I'm some sort of street hooker. The women in this part of the neighborhood hate me or are rather jealous of me for the way I look. "37 bochor boyesh othocho eto sundor dekhte Oshombhob! Nischoe or boyesh lokache!" ("37 years old yet so beautiful Impossible! She must be hiding her true age!"). But I was not hiding my age. In fact, most people I've met say this about me; though sometimes it's a taunt and sometimes it's a compliment. A woman was once whispering to her friend in the neighborhood, "Gotor ta dekhechis Ishhhh! Ki obostha! Ekjon manoniyo ghorer, bibhahito mohila, tao abar ekta cheler ma! Buro boyesheo ei chehara! Janis toh Janki, erom chehara esob mohilader keno hoye" ("Have you seen her figure Isshhhh! How embarrasing! The housewife of such an honorable family and even the mother of a son. Such a figure in this old age! Do you know Janki, such figure is only indicative of one thing"). She then showed a sign language by curling the index finger and thumb of her right hand in the shape of a hole, and using the index finger of her other hand as a shaft going in and out of the hole. "Bujhe ne!" ("You get the picture!"), and then they both laughed hysterically. This was six months ago, when I was too naive to understand what those signs met. But the path that Shyam Babu has set me in has cleared my understanding of such things.
 
"Kintu Shyam Babu eta shuru koreni. Jeta Haria, dui dorji Kakababu ebong Haripada, Kasai, etadi'r er sathe holo tar kono khoma nei! Ami aste aste niyantran hariye felchi. Kobe je amar shwami firbe ebong kobe amar ei akul sharirik thesta mitbe" ("But Shyam Babu did not start this. There's no excuse for what happened with Haria, the tailors Kakababu and Haripada, the butcher, etc. I'm slowly losing all control. When will my husband return and when will my relentless bodily thirst get quenched")
I was almost about to sob when I heard my son, Bunty, opening the door of his room. I quickly turned on the TV, pretending to watch and no sooner I saw him slowly trodding down the stairs. My son is probably my only chance at a normal life. He's the reason why I live and I could never bear it if he found out about his mother's illicit activities. Today I had a close shave when he saw me coming out of the bathroom naked. The way he looked at me gave me chills. It almost felt like a look of lust and desire, the glimmer in his eyes on seeing his nude mother made my knees feel slightly weak. But I immediately dismissed those feeling once I realized who I was thinking about. This is my son! And although he's a grown man now, I can never have such dirty feelings about him. But for some reason, at that moment, my body seemed to react in a lusty way. I was starting to see my son as a man and not as my child.
 
Anyways, while my son was coming down from the stairs, I noticed him staring and smiling towards the stairs leading down to the lower floor. I looked at that direction and saw Haria standing there, taking fleeting glances of my mature body. Although I was wearing my red silk nightgown which covered me from neck down, the tightness of the material hugging my voluptuous body and accentuating my lovely curves was probably too much for this low-class servant. This is the problem that I face with all my nightgowns. They're either too tight or too loose. But his unabashed stares were giving me a strong urge to touch myself down between my legs, even while my pussy kept pounding like a sad drum. I had to stay alert though, especially in front of my son. I quickly covered myself with a newspaper when I heard Bunty's phone ringing from the upstairs. He quickly dashed back up to his room while Haria regained his composure and made his way towards the kitchen.
 
After a while, I saw Bunty coming down the stairs again. His face was pale and he appeared to be slightly uneasy. "Ma ami ektu aschi." ("Mom, I'll be back.")
 
I was surprised. He never leaves the house at this time of the day. "Arey kothae jachis eto belae" ("Hey, where are you going at this hour")
 
"Pramit er bari. O ektu daklo. Chinta koro na, taratari fire ashbo. Aar lunch okhanei kore nebo." ("To Pramit's house. He called. Don't worry, I'll be back soon. And I'll be having lunch over there.") Without saying much else, he rushed out of the room leaving me alone with our servant Haria, especially with my mind in such a vulnerable state.
 
 
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