Misc. Erotica Chaitali ki diary: Day 1 in Noida

[Mohit.Kumar]

Chaitali instinctively flashed her most innocent, wide-eyed smile. Oblivious to Abdul’s crude appraisal or Rashid’s tightening grip, she stepped forward slightly, her damp hand extending toward Abdul. "Oh Main Chaitali Ghosh," she chirped, her Bengali lilt soft and friendly amidst the harsh surroundings. "Vatika Real Estate se." Her fingers brushed Abdul’s rough, calloused palm. "Aap site dekha rahe ho? Kitna achha kaam ho raha hai" Her enthusiasm hung awkwardly in the dusty air, her handshake lingering a fraction too long, her eyes brightening at the proximity of another young, rugged man. Abdul’s grin turned predatory; he squeezed her hand firmly, his thumb deliberately grinding into the soft flesh between her thumb and forefinger.

Abdul didn’t release her hand. Instead, he used it to pull her fractionally closer, his gaze dropping openly to the deep cleavage revealed by her sweat-soaked blouse. "Haa, Didi," he rumbled, his voice thick with implication. "Sab kuch achha chal raha hai... jab tak achhe log nahi aate." His other hand gestured vaguely toward the skeletal structure, but his eyes remained locked on her breasts. Chaitali felt the heat radiating from his body, smelled the raw of his sweat mixed with cement dust. A flush crept up her neck, not from discomfort, but from the familiar, warm thrill of male attention. She giggled nervously, shifting her weight, making her wide hips sway unconsciously beneath the thin saree. "Aap bahut mehnat karte honge," she breathed, her gaze flitting over his muscular forearms.

Rashid watched, a smirk twisting his lips. He stepped forward, his hand landing possessively back on the small of Chaitali’s back, fingers digging into the soft flesh above her waistband. "Abdul Bhai, yeh Didi ko site ka tour de raha hoon," he announced, his tone falsely casual. "Par thak gayi lagti hai. Chai-pani ka intezam ho sakta hai?" His eyes met Abdul’s, a silent understanding passing between them. Abdul finally released Chaitali’s hand, his rough thumb lingering a moment too long on her knuckles. "Haan, zaroor," he grunted, turning abruptly. "Chalo, office mein baithte hain." He led them toward a makeshift shack cobbled together from corrugated tin sheets and plywood, its interior dark and cluttered.

Inside the stifling shack, the air tasted of stale cigarettes and damp earth. Rashid guided Chaitali to a plastic stool, its surface sticky. He remained standing close beside her, his thigh brushing her shoulder. Abdul rummaged behind a battered desk piled with dusty ledgers. "Thanda?" Rashid suggested, his gaze fixed on the damp patch spreading across Chaitali’s blouse where her breasts strained the fabric. "Garam mein bahut paseena nikal raha hai Didi ka." Chaitali fanned herself weakly with a crumpled tissue, her wide hips shifting on the stool, a bead of sweat tracing a path down her temple. She offered Abdul another guileless smile. "Haan, thanda accha rahega."

Abdul straightened, wiping grime from his brow with a thick forearm. He grinned, his eyes lingering ample breasts. "Thanda?" he echoed, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Beer ka intezaam kar sakta hoon... par theka jaana padega." He gestured vaguely toward the door. "Hamara Omni hi hai. Chalo, sab saath chale?" Rashid’s hand tightened on Chaitali’s shoulder, a possessive squeeze. "Haan, chalo," he agreed quickly. Chaitali’s breath hitched slightly. The prospect of beer, illicit and forbidden, sent a familiar warmth pooling low in her belly. She giggled, the sound high and nervous. "Beer?" she breathed, her eyes wide with feigned innocence. "Main toh kabhi..." Her protest trailed off unconvincingly as she rose, the movement making her heavy breasts sway visibly beneath her blouse.

The battered Omni van groaned under their combined weight. Rashid slid behind the wheel, Abdul crammed beside him. Chaitali climbed awkwardly into the cramped backseat.  Rashid twisted the key violently; the engine coughed, shuddered, then roared to life. He jerked the van forward, throwing Chaitali back against the seat. Her breasts swung heavily under the blouse. Abdul twisted in his seat, his gaze openly tracing the curve of her waist. "Didi comfortable ho?" he asked, his voice thick. Chaitali nodded, flashing him a bright smile. "Haan, bahut"  

The Omni bounced violently onto a rutted track leading away from the main construction sprawl, heading deeper into a wasteland of half-demolished structures and towering piles of excavated earth. Abdul twisted fully in his seat now, his thick forearm dbangd over the headrest, his eyes fixed on the way Chaitali’s breasts swayed and strained against her blouse with every jolt. "Dilli se ho?" he asked, his voice a low rumble barely audible over the engine’s roar. Chaitali leaned forward slightly, drawn by his attention, her elbows resting on her knees, unconsciously deepening her cleavage. "Haan," she chirped, "par kaam ke liye Gurgaon mein rehti hoon." She giggled, a nervous, breathy sound. "Gharwale Delhi mein." Abdul’s gaze didn’t waver. "Akeli?" The question hung heavy, loaded. Rashid snorted softly behind the wheel, his eyes flicking to the rear view mirror, watching Chaitali’s reaction.

They lurched to a halt beside a ramshackle liquor stall squeezed between the rusted flank of a stationary goods train and a crumbling brick wall plastered with peeling film posters. Dust hung thick in the air, tasting of iron and diesel fumes. "Theka aa gaya," Rashid announced, killing the engine. The sudden silence was broken only by the buzzing of flies near overflowing garbage sacks. Abdul shoved his door open, the hinges screaming. "Main leke aata hoon," he grunted, starting to climb out. Rashid’s hand shot out, clamping onto Abdul’s thick wrist. "Arre, nahi Bhai," Rashid said, a sly grin spreading across his face. He jerked his chin towards Chaitali, still perched awkwardly in the backseat. "Didi ko jaane do. Ladies discount milta hai."

"Haan, haan" Abdul chuckled, settling back heavily. "Didi ka sweet face dekhte hi discount de denge.".  "Jao na, Didi. Hum log ka paisa bachao." His grin was wide.  She flashed Abdul a bright, oblivious smile, her teeth startlingly white against her dusty skin. "Haan, zaroor" she chirped, already scrambling towards the sliding door. Her wide hips bumped against the seat edge, making her heavy breasts sway visibly beneath the thin fabric. "Kitni bottle chahiye?"

Rashid leaned back, watching her through the rearview mirror. "Ek crate, ekdum thanda" he said flatly. "Strong." "Aur ek packet cigarette bhi leti aana". Chaitali blinked, her eyes widening slightly at the quantity, but she merely nodded, flashing Abdul another smile before sliding the door open with a metallic scbang.

She stepped out onto the dusty ground, her cheap sandals sinking into the dust. She smoothed her crumpled saree over her wide hips, the damp polyester clinging uncomfortably. As she walked towards the stall, her gait was unconsciously swaying, her heavy breasts bouncing gently with each step beneath the thin, sweat-darkened blouse. The hem of her saree slipped slightly, revealing more of her thick, dusky ankle above the sandal strap.

Inside the Omni, Rashid leaned his head back against the seat, eyes fixed on Chaitali’s retreating figure. "Dekho na, Bhai," he murmured, a low chuckle escaping him. "Gaand kaise hilti hai... jaise gaana ga rahi ho." His gaze dropped lower, tracing the pronounced curve of her backside straining against the saree fabric. "Poori factory chala sakti hai yeh."

Abdul grunted, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, his thick fingers drumming on the dashboard. "Sach mein," he breathed, his voice thick. He licked his cracked lips, leaning closer to the windshield. "Kitni bhari hai... doodh ki factory lagti hai." They watched as Chaitali stumbled slightly on loose gravel, her hips swaying wider to regain balance—a movement that made Abdul suck in a sharp breath. "Ufff... haath lagane ka mann karta hai."

Chaitali approached the liquor stall, oblivious. The vendor, a gaunt man with watery eyes, stared openly at her damp blouse clinging to her breasts. She flashed her practiced, dazzling smile, leaning forward slightly over the makeshift counter. "Ek crate beer, ekdum thanda" she chirped, her voice breathless. Her cleavage deepened with the motion, sweat tracing the valley between her breasts.