02-01-2019, 12:04 PM
Mrs. Rao (Srilekha)
Mrs. Rao was very knowledgeable in matters relating to painting and sculptures. She had once been a student of fine arts and could paint really well. However, when she had married Mr. Rao, she had made the hard decision of dedicating herself completely to her husband’s career. And back then, image consulting was in a very nascent stage and people had to be explained as to what it could achieve. The concept of ‘soft power’ was just about catching up in the west. Mr. Rao would be patiently explaining his presentation and indifferent customers would be yawning away. All that changed one day when he got a call from an influential politician’s chamcha that perhaps Madam could explain it better,… psst … … psst … …. hope you understand ... … netaji would be resting in his farmhouse during the weekend, … please consider, … if it is not very inconvenient .
That had been a difficult decision to make but in the end she had spent the weekend at the politician’s retreat. Surprisingly, all that the portly fellow wanted was to make her sit on his laps and run his hands over her hair. She had felt instant shame but gone through all the violations and Rao had been rewarded with a hefty contract. When she had returned home, she had bored her gaze at him and he had looked away. They never discussed what had taken place. Once the lachhman rekha had been crossed, there had been no looking back. She had slept with any number of potential clientele as well as the bosses of their farms as Rao’s career graph had started zooming up. The men she had entertained subsequently had been varied, from maudlin drunks to hardcore sadists who pressed burning cigarette butts on to her skin. She had borne with them all. And all pretense of a career in fine arts had been forgotten. In essence she had been a courtesan – a cultured whore for over a decade and Rao was eternally grateful to her. Rao’s success and the taste of luxury had dulled the pain – until, until the harsh reality hit them both. She couldn’t conceive any longer – a series of abortions had settled the issue. Never would she consider adopting - for she loved her husband too much and so cherished their shared dreams. She had lapsed into a dull and dark fog five years ago. There was no way out, except the silver lining in the shape of Kajol, a very healthy female of child bearing age. She had to have her husband’s baby through Kajol.
xxxxxxxxxxx
They had walked through the various exhibits at the newly opened gallery and she had explained to the Kajol the finer points of each artifact and the young girl had been very receptive and appeared to possess a healthy appetite for learning things. After all, she was a doctoral student in social sciences. Mrs. Rao had been elated at their choice of this young woman who no doubt had a fertile womb ready to welcom her husband’s seed when the time came. Both ladies had in fact bonded very well so much so that neither had noticed when three hours had passed in the galleries. Finally they had come out into the mild winter sun.
“Hungry Kajol?” Mrs. Rao smiled.
“Yes Lekha”. Kajol smiled back.
They linked their arms together and walked to the nearby pricey restaurant where she had already booked a table. It was a circular one and they sat facing each other. When the waiter arrived, Mrs. Rao nonchalantly ordered a very expensive bottle of white wine. Small talks were going on and half the glasses had been emptied. Kajol was beginning to experience a faint buzz. Mrs. Rao was smiling.
“Tell me, how long have you been married?”
“Two years, next to next month”, Kajol said taking another sip.
“And how do you find Ramesh?”
Kajol took another large sip. She was beginning to like the feeling of alcohol coursing through her after previous couple of hours of loitering in the art gallery. Mrs. Rao seemed to be such a jolly sport. She decided to be risqué.
“He is okay….just that he lacks imagination.”
“You mean in the nighttime ventures”, Mrs. Rao said with a straight face.
They locked their eyes for a moment and then started laughing loudly.
When the laughter had subsided, Mrs. Rao put a hand on Kajol’s wrist and adopted a grave tone.
“It is the duty of us women to keep our saandhs on their tether.”
Kajol nodded equally gravely while taking another refill of her glass. Then they burst out into laughter once again. Somewhere, she was beginning to realize that the liquor had gone to her head and that she was losing control. Strangely she didn’t seem to mind.
A shadow loomed over them and her jaws fell. There was Mr. Rao standing in the middle and he was grinning broadly, the proverbial 32 out showing.
“My, my, my, …”, he said still smiling while with pushing down Kajol back to her seat when she was half making an effort to rise. “What a lovely scene, hope I didn’t interrupt anything. By the way, where is Ramesh?”
“Now you leave him alone”, Mrs. Rao shot back. “You have no business to call him on a Sunday. And we are not exactly two collegegirls who need chaperoning.”
Kajol started giggling at the comparison with collegegirls. Mrs. Rao backed away a step and folded his hands in mock apology. Then turning around he beckoned the waiter for another chair. Settled between the two of them, he ordered himself a bottle of scotch and immediately downed the first couple of pegs.
The conversation flew gaily with Mr. Rao alternating between refilling their glasses, teasing his wife and praising Kajol’s dress sense, her choice of minimal make-ups and she had become very easy in his presence and even laughed at some of his risqué jokes while Mrs. Rao stared angrily. But it was all in good test and she was enjoying it all. Suddenly, she sensed a feel on her thigh and for an instant the thought ran through her that perhaps there was something not in order. Then she felt the movement on her thigh and knew that it was indeed Mr. Rao who was now massaging her thigh. In the haze of alcohol fumes, her mind immediately connected it with the oil massage given by Bhimu, just a couple of days back. How she had enjoyed that session at the mistress’s house. Her face broke into a slow smile at that thought and Mr. Rao who was exploring the smooth fabric over her legs smiled back at her and his hand shot up further. Kajol knew what was coming but she had no qualms now. Already currents of pleasure had started to emanate from deep down there. She took a deep breath.
Then she opened her legs wide under the table. The prey had now invited the predator in. Mr.Rao’s experienced fingers found their mark. They were now on her cunt lips and commenced a slow circulatory motion. Kajol closed her eyes, anticipating the pleasant waves building up…
Mrs. Rao was very knowledgeable in matters relating to painting and sculptures. She had once been a student of fine arts and could paint really well. However, when she had married Mr. Rao, she had made the hard decision of dedicating herself completely to her husband’s career. And back then, image consulting was in a very nascent stage and people had to be explained as to what it could achieve. The concept of ‘soft power’ was just about catching up in the west. Mr. Rao would be patiently explaining his presentation and indifferent customers would be yawning away. All that changed one day when he got a call from an influential politician’s chamcha that perhaps Madam could explain it better,… psst … … psst … …. hope you understand ... … netaji would be resting in his farmhouse during the weekend, … please consider, … if it is not very inconvenient .
That had been a difficult decision to make but in the end she had spent the weekend at the politician’s retreat. Surprisingly, all that the portly fellow wanted was to make her sit on his laps and run his hands over her hair. She had felt instant shame but gone through all the violations and Rao had been rewarded with a hefty contract. When she had returned home, she had bored her gaze at him and he had looked away. They never discussed what had taken place. Once the lachhman rekha had been crossed, there had been no looking back. She had slept with any number of potential clientele as well as the bosses of their farms as Rao’s career graph had started zooming up. The men she had entertained subsequently had been varied, from maudlin drunks to hardcore sadists who pressed burning cigarette butts on to her skin. She had borne with them all. And all pretense of a career in fine arts had been forgotten. In essence she had been a courtesan – a cultured whore for over a decade and Rao was eternally grateful to her. Rao’s success and the taste of luxury had dulled the pain – until, until the harsh reality hit them both. She couldn’t conceive any longer – a series of abortions had settled the issue. Never would she consider adopting - for she loved her husband too much and so cherished their shared dreams. She had lapsed into a dull and dark fog five years ago. There was no way out, except the silver lining in the shape of Kajol, a very healthy female of child bearing age. She had to have her husband’s baby through Kajol.
xxxxxxxxxxx
They had walked through the various exhibits at the newly opened gallery and she had explained to the Kajol the finer points of each artifact and the young girl had been very receptive and appeared to possess a healthy appetite for learning things. After all, she was a doctoral student in social sciences. Mrs. Rao had been elated at their choice of this young woman who no doubt had a fertile womb ready to welcom her husband’s seed when the time came. Both ladies had in fact bonded very well so much so that neither had noticed when three hours had passed in the galleries. Finally they had come out into the mild winter sun.
“Hungry Kajol?” Mrs. Rao smiled.
“Yes Lekha”. Kajol smiled back.
They linked their arms together and walked to the nearby pricey restaurant where she had already booked a table. It was a circular one and they sat facing each other. When the waiter arrived, Mrs. Rao nonchalantly ordered a very expensive bottle of white wine. Small talks were going on and half the glasses had been emptied. Kajol was beginning to experience a faint buzz. Mrs. Rao was smiling.
“Tell me, how long have you been married?”
“Two years, next to next month”, Kajol said taking another sip.
“And how do you find Ramesh?”
Kajol took another large sip. She was beginning to like the feeling of alcohol coursing through her after previous couple of hours of loitering in the art gallery. Mrs. Rao seemed to be such a jolly sport. She decided to be risqué.
“He is okay….just that he lacks imagination.”
“You mean in the nighttime ventures”, Mrs. Rao said with a straight face.
They locked their eyes for a moment and then started laughing loudly.
When the laughter had subsided, Mrs. Rao put a hand on Kajol’s wrist and adopted a grave tone.
“It is the duty of us women to keep our saandhs on their tether.”
Kajol nodded equally gravely while taking another refill of her glass. Then they burst out into laughter once again. Somewhere, she was beginning to realize that the liquor had gone to her head and that she was losing control. Strangely she didn’t seem to mind.
A shadow loomed over them and her jaws fell. There was Mr. Rao standing in the middle and he was grinning broadly, the proverbial 32 out showing.
“My, my, my, …”, he said still smiling while with pushing down Kajol back to her seat when she was half making an effort to rise. “What a lovely scene, hope I didn’t interrupt anything. By the way, where is Ramesh?”
“Now you leave him alone”, Mrs. Rao shot back. “You have no business to call him on a Sunday. And we are not exactly two collegegirls who need chaperoning.”
Kajol started giggling at the comparison with collegegirls. Mrs. Rao backed away a step and folded his hands in mock apology. Then turning around he beckoned the waiter for another chair. Settled between the two of them, he ordered himself a bottle of scotch and immediately downed the first couple of pegs.
The conversation flew gaily with Mr. Rao alternating between refilling their glasses, teasing his wife and praising Kajol’s dress sense, her choice of minimal make-ups and she had become very easy in his presence and even laughed at some of his risqué jokes while Mrs. Rao stared angrily. But it was all in good test and she was enjoying it all. Suddenly, she sensed a feel on her thigh and for an instant the thought ran through her that perhaps there was something not in order. Then she felt the movement on her thigh and knew that it was indeed Mr. Rao who was now massaging her thigh. In the haze of alcohol fumes, her mind immediately connected it with the oil massage given by Bhimu, just a couple of days back. How she had enjoyed that session at the mistress’s house. Her face broke into a slow smile at that thought and Mr. Rao who was exploring the smooth fabric over her legs smiled back at her and his hand shot up further. Kajol knew what was coming but she had no qualms now. Already currents of pleasure had started to emanate from deep down there. She took a deep breath.
Then she opened her legs wide under the table. The prey had now invited the predator in. Mr.Rao’s experienced fingers found their mark. They were now on her cunt lips and commenced a slow circulatory motion. Kajol closed her eyes, anticipating the pleasant waves building up…
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