21-08-2019, 03:18 AM
(This post was last modified: 21-08-2019, 05:09 AM by vishy88. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
This is my first post here guys. Send me pm or reply with any suggestions you have for my future stories.
I moved in to Deccan Enclave with my cousin and her husband. It was a temporary stay, just few weeks or months before I find a place for myself after finding a job in Bangalore. Being fresh out of college, I had no money or contacts, so when Janaki, my cousin, offered to "rent" me a room at her newly bought home, I readily agreed.
Our flat was the end block on the fifteenth floor, No.1500. It was a two-bedroom suite with a great view, and lots of sounds of people partying in the pool, cafe, and terrace above ours. The terrace was open for everyone, except the private pool of the actual penthouse resident -- No. 1600. It was empty.
As it's easy to lose focus having nothing to do, I joined the gym the next noon, to keep in shape while I hunted for a job for who knows how long. The entry was free and the gym was stocked with machines and people. Even in the afternoon there were around thirty patrons, 17 guys and 13 girls/women. The energy in the gym was stimulating, smells of perfume and sweat everywhere, someone or the other moaning or breathing somewhere, and I picked up a dumbbell and started working out.
Out of all the women, one caught my eye. Literally. She was staring at me like I owed her money. She was about my cousin's height, 5'5ish, with firm, round medium-sized breast, curvy hips. And the most surprising thing: she was wearing a saree. A dark-green, semi-transparent saree upon a long-sleeved, matching blouse. I couldn't make out if she was wearing a bra because we were looking at each other in the mirror with a dumbbell each in our hands.
"Hello, I am Vishal," I said to the woman in the mirror.
"I am new," she said.
"That makes you a Christian," I said.
She burst out laughing. "No, no. I am new to this whole thing. I am Megha."
"Well, I am new here, too, but I know to lift this," I said turning the dumbbell in my hand, "and I know to put it down. Do it enough number of times and you'll become fit." As soon as I said this, I realized it was a big mistake. Megha was fit. The tight cleavage in her blouse went deep from where I stood. Her biceps were taut under the sleeves, and if I didn't know better she could have been Vidya Balan's double. There was a little stomach, though, but I said, "You are perfect, Megha. You should be adding some weight. Gym will be more fun if you have to actually burn something."
"You should tell that to my husband," she said with a frown. So she has a husband. There goes all my chances, I thought.
"Is he like Brad Pitt or something?" I asked.
"Arey, no. He's normal Pitt." She sized me up, "I'll say you are more well-built. Keep it up. Anyways, I'll not come between you and your muscle." Megha put down her dumbbell and strolled to a treadmill. I didn't call her.
The second time I met Megha was after a week. I had just finished working out and was waiting for the lift. "Hey, Vishal." Megha said from behind.
"Hello, Megha," I said without turning as the lift just unlocked. I held the door and waved her inside. "Thanks," she said.
"Where's your stop madam?" I asked my faltering authoritative voice.
"Sixteenth Floor."
"You mean fifteenth floor."
"Arey, no. Sixteenth. You have to press 15 and 1 together." She showed me.
"Oh? Could have been easier if they added a button. Not that I am an architect." I said.
She smiled. "Where do you get down? 15?"
"Very observant" I said. "Yes."
"So we are neighbors"
"In a way, in a way." I said. "I am guy if you want salt or sugar."
"Deal." She extended her hand and I shook it. It was then that I fully saw her this time. Not there was much of a difference. Instead of a green saree, it as blue with golden flowers this time. Same long-sleeved blouse. She had left her hair more loose from the last time, and had a teardrop shaped tali digging into her cleavage. We just passed the fifth floor. When she smiled, her breasts heaved a little, the cleavage pressing out as her shoulders caved in. I could see her belly from the ribs to the hips as she breathed shaking my hand. It was long and firm, and the bit that was not covered by the saree was fair and soft to the eyes. We passed the tenth floor. I just noticed that she was wearing a tight, black bra with the sides of her breasts bulging out beneath the semi-transparent blouse. The bra's hooks were in the front and the blouse was held by lace straps on the back. One of the hooks seemed to break away at the slightest touch and the other held everything in place like a loyal soldier. Her fingers were long and tender and that's when I realized I was shaking her hand a little too much.
"I thought you will take that one home," she said as I let go of her hand.
"I am sorry." I said, looking away. "The lift came up too fast." We had reached and I stepped out.
"You should come up, too, one day," she said, smiling.
"One day," I said , feeling a little embarrassed, feeling a little dumb for not pushing my luck anymore.
![[Image: vidya-balan-hot-photoshoot_2.jpg]](https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H66z7urT7No/U_CX4j3KygI/AAAAAAAAc3s/Wzj7uOVeuWQ/s1600/vidya-balan-hot-photoshoot_2.jpg)
I moved in to Deccan Enclave with my cousin and her husband. It was a temporary stay, just few weeks or months before I find a place for myself after finding a job in Bangalore. Being fresh out of college, I had no money or contacts, so when Janaki, my cousin, offered to "rent" me a room at her newly bought home, I readily agreed.
Our flat was the end block on the fifteenth floor, No.1500. It was a two-bedroom suite with a great view, and lots of sounds of people partying in the pool, cafe, and terrace above ours. The terrace was open for everyone, except the private pool of the actual penthouse resident -- No. 1600. It was empty.
As it's easy to lose focus having nothing to do, I joined the gym the next noon, to keep in shape while I hunted for a job for who knows how long. The entry was free and the gym was stocked with machines and people. Even in the afternoon there were around thirty patrons, 17 guys and 13 girls/women. The energy in the gym was stimulating, smells of perfume and sweat everywhere, someone or the other moaning or breathing somewhere, and I picked up a dumbbell and started working out.
Out of all the women, one caught my eye. Literally. She was staring at me like I owed her money. She was about my cousin's height, 5'5ish, with firm, round medium-sized breast, curvy hips. And the most surprising thing: she was wearing a saree. A dark-green, semi-transparent saree upon a long-sleeved, matching blouse. I couldn't make out if she was wearing a bra because we were looking at each other in the mirror with a dumbbell each in our hands.
"Hello, I am Vishal," I said to the woman in the mirror.
"I am new," she said.
"That makes you a Christian," I said.
She burst out laughing. "No, no. I am new to this whole thing. I am Megha."
"Well, I am new here, too, but I know to lift this," I said turning the dumbbell in my hand, "and I know to put it down. Do it enough number of times and you'll become fit." As soon as I said this, I realized it was a big mistake. Megha was fit. The tight cleavage in her blouse went deep from where I stood. Her biceps were taut under the sleeves, and if I didn't know better she could have been Vidya Balan's double. There was a little stomach, though, but I said, "You are perfect, Megha. You should be adding some weight. Gym will be more fun if you have to actually burn something."
"You should tell that to my husband," she said with a frown. So she has a husband. There goes all my chances, I thought.
"Is he like Brad Pitt or something?" I asked.
"Arey, no. He's normal Pitt." She sized me up, "I'll say you are more well-built. Keep it up. Anyways, I'll not come between you and your muscle." Megha put down her dumbbell and strolled to a treadmill. I didn't call her.
The second time I met Megha was after a week. I had just finished working out and was waiting for the lift. "Hey, Vishal." Megha said from behind.
"Hello, Megha," I said without turning as the lift just unlocked. I held the door and waved her inside. "Thanks," she said.
"Where's your stop madam?" I asked my faltering authoritative voice.
"Sixteenth Floor."
"You mean fifteenth floor."
"Arey, no. Sixteenth. You have to press 15 and 1 together." She showed me.
"Oh? Could have been easier if they added a button. Not that I am an architect." I said.
She smiled. "Where do you get down? 15?"
"Very observant" I said. "Yes."
"So we are neighbors"
"In a way, in a way." I said. "I am guy if you want salt or sugar."
"Deal." She extended her hand and I shook it. It was then that I fully saw her this time. Not there was much of a difference. Instead of a green saree, it as blue with golden flowers this time. Same long-sleeved blouse. She had left her hair more loose from the last time, and had a teardrop shaped tali digging into her cleavage. We just passed the fifth floor. When she smiled, her breasts heaved a little, the cleavage pressing out as her shoulders caved in. I could see her belly from the ribs to the hips as she breathed shaking my hand. It was long and firm, and the bit that was not covered by the saree was fair and soft to the eyes. We passed the tenth floor. I just noticed that she was wearing a tight, black bra with the sides of her breasts bulging out beneath the semi-transparent blouse. The bra's hooks were in the front and the blouse was held by lace straps on the back. One of the hooks seemed to break away at the slightest touch and the other held everything in place like a loyal soldier. Her fingers were long and tender and that's when I realized I was shaking her hand a little too much.
"I thought you will take that one home," she said as I let go of her hand.
"I am sorry." I said, looking away. "The lift came up too fast." We had reached and I stepped out.
"You should come up, too, one day," she said, smiling.
"One day," I said , feeling a little embarrassed, feeling a little dumb for not pushing my luck anymore.
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)