17-10-2025, 06:01 PM
Scene 2: The Brick in the Wall
Sunita led Simran to a small, clean room at the back of their main house. It had a simple cot, a table, and a sturdy wooden door that led to an attached washroom.
Sunita: "This is the room, beti. Is it okay for you?" (Yeh hai kamra, beti. Tumhare liye theek hai?)
Simran: "It's perfect, Aunty. Thank you so much for your hospitality. I just want to take a bath and rest for a while. The journey was very long." (Yeh bilkul theek hai, Aunty. Aapki mehmaan-nawazi ke liye bahut shukriya. Main bas naha kar thoda aaram karna chahti hoon. Safar bahut lamba tha.)
Sunita: "Of course, of course. You rest. I will call you for dinner later." (Bilkul, bilkul. Tum aaram karo. Main tumhe raat ke khane ke liye baad mein bulaungi.)
Sunita left, pulling the main door of the room closed behind her. Simran locked it from the inside, breathing a sigh of relief. She stripped off the sticky saree and blouse, her large, heavy breasts spilling free. She felt a trickle of sweat run between them and decided a bath was the first thing she needed. As she headed into the small washroom and turned on the shower, the sound of rushing water filled the tiny space.
Meanwhile, in the main house, Ramesh watched Sunita return.
Ramesh: "Is she settled in?" (Woh theek se settle ho gayi?)
Sunita: "Yes. She has gone to take a bath. Poor girl, she looked so tired and sweaty. Why are you looking so restless?" (Haan. Woh nahane gayi hai. Bechari ladki, bahut thaki hui aur paseene mein lag rahi thi. Aap itne bechain kyun lag rahe hain?)
Ramesh: "Restless? No, no. I was just thinking... I need to check the old water pump behind the guest house. It hasn't been working properly." (Bechain? Nahi, nahi. Main bas soch raha tha... mujhe mehmaan-kamre ke peeche wala purana water pump check karna hai. Woh theek se kaam nahi kar raha hai.)
Sunita: "Do it later. Come and have some tea first." (Baad mein kar lena. Aao pehle chai pee lo.)
Ramesh: "No, I will do it now before I forget. You have your tea." (Nahi, main bhool jaoon isse pehle abhi kar leta hoon. Tum apni chai piyo.)
Without another word, Ramesh walked out the back door, not towards the main water pump, but into the overgrown garden that separated their house from the two small guest structures. He ignored the first one, where Simran was staying, and walked silently to the second, older, and unused hut that stood directly behind it. The back wall of Simran's washroom was the front wall of this derelict structure.
He entered the dark, dusty room and went straight to the wall. He pressed his ear against the rough plaster, a sly grin spreading across his face as he heard the clear sound of the shower running on the other side.
Ramesh: (muttering to himself) "Right on time... she is in there... fucking perfect..." (Bilkul time par... woh andar hai... ekdum sahi...)
His fingers, surprisingly nimble, found the edges of a specific brick. It was loose, placed there by him years ago for just this purpose, though he hadn't had a guest worth watching in a long time. With a gentle wiggle, he pulled the brick free, creating a small, dark hole that was nearly invisible from the brightly lit washroom on the other side.
He put his eye to the hole.
His breath hitched. He could see her. Simran was standing directly under the spray of water, her back to him. Her skin was fair and glistening. Water cascaded down her broad back, over the curve of her wide hips and her large, perfectly round buttocks. He watched, mesmerized, as she turned, soaping her front. Her lactating breasts, heavy and full, were even bigger than he had imagined. They jutted out proudly, the dark nipples hard from the water. They bounced with a life of their own as she washed herself.
Ramesh: (whispering hoarsely) "Oh, fuck... look at those melons... holy shit..." (Oh, fuck... woh tarbooz to dekho... baap re...)
He watched her soap her flat stomach, her fingers disappearing into the thick black hair between her legs. He felt a throbbing pressure in his groin. His vision was filled with the sight of her wet, naked, and completely unaware.
His hand moved from the wall and went down to the knot of his dhoti. It felt tight, suffocating. With trembling fingers, he began to loosen it, his eyes never leaving the peephole, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
Sunita led Simran to a small, clean room at the back of their main house. It had a simple cot, a table, and a sturdy wooden door that led to an attached washroom.
Sunita: "This is the room, beti. Is it okay for you?" (Yeh hai kamra, beti. Tumhare liye theek hai?)
Simran: "It's perfect, Aunty. Thank you so much for your hospitality. I just want to take a bath and rest for a while. The journey was very long." (Yeh bilkul theek hai, Aunty. Aapki mehmaan-nawazi ke liye bahut shukriya. Main bas naha kar thoda aaram karna chahti hoon. Safar bahut lamba tha.)
Sunita: "Of course, of course. You rest. I will call you for dinner later." (Bilkul, bilkul. Tum aaram karo. Main tumhe raat ke khane ke liye baad mein bulaungi.)
Sunita left, pulling the main door of the room closed behind her. Simran locked it from the inside, breathing a sigh of relief. She stripped off the sticky saree and blouse, her large, heavy breasts spilling free. She felt a trickle of sweat run between them and decided a bath was the first thing she needed. As she headed into the small washroom and turned on the shower, the sound of rushing water filled the tiny space.
Meanwhile, in the main house, Ramesh watched Sunita return.
Ramesh: "Is she settled in?" (Woh theek se settle ho gayi?)
Sunita: "Yes. She has gone to take a bath. Poor girl, she looked so tired and sweaty. Why are you looking so restless?" (Haan. Woh nahane gayi hai. Bechari ladki, bahut thaki hui aur paseene mein lag rahi thi. Aap itne bechain kyun lag rahe hain?)
Ramesh: "Restless? No, no. I was just thinking... I need to check the old water pump behind the guest house. It hasn't been working properly." (Bechain? Nahi, nahi. Main bas soch raha tha... mujhe mehmaan-kamre ke peeche wala purana water pump check karna hai. Woh theek se kaam nahi kar raha hai.)
Sunita: "Do it later. Come and have some tea first." (Baad mein kar lena. Aao pehle chai pee lo.)
Ramesh: "No, I will do it now before I forget. You have your tea." (Nahi, main bhool jaoon isse pehle abhi kar leta hoon. Tum apni chai piyo.)
Without another word, Ramesh walked out the back door, not towards the main water pump, but into the overgrown garden that separated their house from the two small guest structures. He ignored the first one, where Simran was staying, and walked silently to the second, older, and unused hut that stood directly behind it. The back wall of Simran's washroom was the front wall of this derelict structure.
He entered the dark, dusty room and went straight to the wall. He pressed his ear against the rough plaster, a sly grin spreading across his face as he heard the clear sound of the shower running on the other side.
Ramesh: (muttering to himself) "Right on time... she is in there... fucking perfect..." (Bilkul time par... woh andar hai... ekdum sahi...)
His fingers, surprisingly nimble, found the edges of a specific brick. It was loose, placed there by him years ago for just this purpose, though he hadn't had a guest worth watching in a long time. With a gentle wiggle, he pulled the brick free, creating a small, dark hole that was nearly invisible from the brightly lit washroom on the other side.
He put his eye to the hole.
His breath hitched. He could see her. Simran was standing directly under the spray of water, her back to him. Her skin was fair and glistening. Water cascaded down her broad back, over the curve of her wide hips and her large, perfectly round buttocks. He watched, mesmerized, as she turned, soaping her front. Her lactating breasts, heavy and full, were even bigger than he had imagined. They jutted out proudly, the dark nipples hard from the water. They bounced with a life of their own as she washed herself.
Ramesh: (whispering hoarsely) "Oh, fuck... look at those melons... holy shit..." (Oh, fuck... woh tarbooz to dekho... baap re...)
He watched her soap her flat stomach, her fingers disappearing into the thick black hair between her legs. He felt a throbbing pressure in his groin. His vision was filled with the sight of her wet, naked, and completely unaware.
His hand moved from the wall and went down to the knot of his dhoti. It felt tight, suffocating. With trembling fingers, he began to loosen it, his eyes never leaving the peephole, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
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