01-09-2025, 01:25 PM
Saga 4 - Scene 3 - Arun ka bulge
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Next morning.
The house was quiet when Dipa awoke. Sameer had already left for the office, his side of the bed cold. She could hear the faint, rhythmic sound of chopping coming from the kitchen. A slow smile spread across her face. Arun.
She slid out of bed and, instead of her usual modest maxi dress, she pulled on a short, silk robe, tying the sash loosely at her waist. She wore nothing underneath. She went to the kitchen. Arun was at the counter, his back to her, already preparing ingredients for lunch.
Dipa: Good morning, Arun. How are you?
He turned, startled, a blush immediately creeping up his neck as his eyes took in her state of undress. He quickly looked down at the floor.
Arun: Memsahab, good morning. I am okay.
Arun: Memsahab, chai banau? Should I make tea?
Dipa: Nahi, main chai apne aap banati hoon. No, I make my own tea.
He was making a simple breakfast of roti and sabzi for himself. Dipa moved to the counter beside him, her hip brushing against his as she passed. She reached up to a high shelf for the tea jar. As her arm extended, her robe fell open slightly, and the full, heavy side of her braless breast pressed directly against his triceps.
It was an impossibly soft, warm touch. Arun froze, every muscle in his body going rigid. What to do? Should I move away? Should I say something? He just took a single, jerky step to the side, putting a few inches of space between them. Dipa, noticing his flustered reaction, smiled to herself. She didn’t say anything.
Dipa: Main tumhare liye bhi chai bana rahi hoon. Mere haatho ki try karo. I’m making tea for you too. Try the one made by my hands.
Arun: (his voice a little shaky) Ji, Memsahab. Yes, Memsahab.
A few hours later.
Tukun was napping peacefully, and Ramla Masi was quietly doing the laundry in the utility area. Arun was sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor, eating his lunch from a simple steel plate. Dipa walked into the kitchen, a large, fluffy towel wrapped around her body.
Dipa: The water heater is taking so long today.
She saw him on the floor, his face tilted up toward her. She met his eyes for a moment, then, as if by accident, her hand loosened its grip on the towel. The towel fell around her ankles.
She let out a small, theatrical gasp and bent down to retrieve it. She didn't bend at the knees. She bent at the waist, a slow, deliberate movement that presented him with a perfect, overwhelming view down the front of her body. Her massive, heavy breasts, freed from gravity, swung forward, the large, dark brown areolas and thick, hard nipples pointing directly at his face. He might have even seen the full breasts, both nipples. He sat there, frozen, a piece of roti halfway to his mouth, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief.
She picked up the towel, her fingers grazing the floor, and slowly straightened up, wrapping it around herself again, a faint, knowing smile on her lips. Arun was still staring, his face pale.
Dipa: Arun, I am going for a bath now.
Arun: (swallowing hard) Ji, Memsahab. Mera lunch khatam ho gaya hai. Kuch kaam hai toh bataiye. Yes, Memsahab. My lunch is finished. If there is any work, please tell me.
Dipa: Ramla Masi is looking after Tukun. But… I am having a pain in my elbow. I won’t be able to rub soap on my back properly. So… come in and help me.
Arun’s mind went blank. Memsahab is calling me… into the bathroom… while she takes a bath? He stared at her, his heart hammering against his ribs, a storm of shock, excitement, and terror raging inside him. This was only his second day.
To be Continued..
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Next morning.
The house was quiet when Dipa awoke. Sameer had already left for the office, his side of the bed cold. She could hear the faint, rhythmic sound of chopping coming from the kitchen. A slow smile spread across her face. Arun.
She slid out of bed and, instead of her usual modest maxi dress, she pulled on a short, silk robe, tying the sash loosely at her waist. She wore nothing underneath. She went to the kitchen. Arun was at the counter, his back to her, already preparing ingredients for lunch.
Dipa: Good morning, Arun. How are you?
He turned, startled, a blush immediately creeping up his neck as his eyes took in her state of undress. He quickly looked down at the floor.
Arun: Memsahab, good morning. I am okay.
Arun: Memsahab, chai banau? Should I make tea?
Dipa: Nahi, main chai apne aap banati hoon. No, I make my own tea.
He was making a simple breakfast of roti and sabzi for himself. Dipa moved to the counter beside him, her hip brushing against his as she passed. She reached up to a high shelf for the tea jar. As her arm extended, her robe fell open slightly, and the full, heavy side of her braless breast pressed directly against his triceps.
It was an impossibly soft, warm touch. Arun froze, every muscle in his body going rigid. What to do? Should I move away? Should I say something? He just took a single, jerky step to the side, putting a few inches of space between them. Dipa, noticing his flustered reaction, smiled to herself. She didn’t say anything.
Dipa: Main tumhare liye bhi chai bana rahi hoon. Mere haatho ki try karo. I’m making tea for you too. Try the one made by my hands.
Arun: (his voice a little shaky) Ji, Memsahab. Yes, Memsahab.
A few hours later.
Tukun was napping peacefully, and Ramla Masi was quietly doing the laundry in the utility area. Arun was sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor, eating his lunch from a simple steel plate. Dipa walked into the kitchen, a large, fluffy towel wrapped around her body.
Dipa: The water heater is taking so long today.
She saw him on the floor, his face tilted up toward her. She met his eyes for a moment, then, as if by accident, her hand loosened its grip on the towel. The towel fell around her ankles.
She let out a small, theatrical gasp and bent down to retrieve it. She didn't bend at the knees. She bent at the waist, a slow, deliberate movement that presented him with a perfect, overwhelming view down the front of her body. Her massive, heavy breasts, freed from gravity, swung forward, the large, dark brown areolas and thick, hard nipples pointing directly at his face. He might have even seen the full breasts, both nipples. He sat there, frozen, a piece of roti halfway to his mouth, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief.
She picked up the towel, her fingers grazing the floor, and slowly straightened up, wrapping it around herself again, a faint, knowing smile on her lips. Arun was still staring, his face pale.
Dipa: Arun, I am going for a bath now.
Arun: (swallowing hard) Ji, Memsahab. Mera lunch khatam ho gaya hai. Kuch kaam hai toh bataiye. Yes, Memsahab. My lunch is finished. If there is any work, please tell me.
Dipa: Ramla Masi is looking after Tukun. But… I am having a pain in my elbow. I won’t be able to rub soap on my back properly. So… come in and help me.
Arun’s mind went blank. Memsahab is calling me… into the bathroom… while she takes a bath? He stared at her, his heart hammering against his ribs, a storm of shock, excitement, and terror raging inside him. This was only his second day.
To be Continued..
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