21-08-2019, 03:01 PM
The Brigadier made it a point to buy gifts for our children and bought big cakes without fail on our birthdays. He showered Sumi and children with liberal gifts and thus became very popular with them. Our children in turn treated the Brigadier's house as their own. The Brigadier enjoyed children's shrieks and their shouts as they played on his well maintained garden and in his balconies. The children called the Brigadier as "General Uncle" perhaps because of his moustaches. They played with him as if he was a child and tugged and pulled his moustache and asked him funny questions. Our life thus went on smoothly for a few days.
Sumi had a habit of coming out of the shower, half dressed and dry her hair and hang washed clothes daily during morning hours after children and I left home. Her mother always did Surya Namaskaar (offer prayers to Sun God) in the morning. She did this immediately after bath, wrapped in one wet cloth. Her mother had taught my wife to continue the tradition.
Sumi followed the tradition. She came out when the sun rose and offered the prayers wearing just a wet cloth. She then dried her hair and body and changed into short clothes and did some Yoga Exercises in the balcony. At that time the entire neighbourhood was empty and she did not have to worry about anyone watching her. Our balcony was such that was not easily visible from outside except from one window of the Brigadier's bedroom.
She had a vague feeling that the Brigadier peeped from his bedroom at times hiding behind curtains, when scantily dressed, she did all these chores. My wife was not sure; but still she told me about it.
I told her not to worry too much about that. I explained to her that firstly she was not sure. Secondly, even presuming that he was indeed watching her, what was the big deal? I laughingly told her that although he was older to us; he was young enough to experience hormones rushing in his balls, when he saw a beautiful, casually clad young woman like her.
I explained to her how any virile male would feel in his position who had to compulsorily remain celibate for more than a year, after the death of his wife.
If by looking at her he got some adrenalin rushing through his old veins even for a small duration, why should we grudge him for that? By letting him have a little bit of nice time, we did not lose anything. Did we? In fact, it would be a bad idea to deprive the old man at least of that, since he had been doing so much for us; I put forth a logical argument to my wife.
Sumi could appreciate my logic although she seemed a little circumspect about it. All the same, it put Sumi's tiny head at ease. After all, in all likelihood, it was her imagination and she argued to herself that she had nothing to lose even if our Good Samaritan became a bit younger for a few minutes, if he indeed watched her. Good for him, she thought.
In the next few days she told me that she did not place the interfering clothes on the clothes line to block the view, she was rather generous putting on additional acts for her favourite benefactor; if he indeed was watching. She bent a bit more, stretched her hands up in air occasionally to display deep chasm between her bosoms to him. When she returned into the house after the act, she walked with the typical swagger giving her bums the movements that always drove men crazy. She began to do some Yoga exercises in our balcony that would need a bit of bending, rising legs up in the air, wearing short shorts and skimpy tops.
Sumi's playing this cat and mouse game ignited a lot of excitement in me. Sumi had always been faithful to me and I was positive that never in our marriage of seven or eight years; even a hint of thought went across her mind about cheating or even flirting with another male. Of course there never was any opportunity either. I began to wonder where all this could lead.
I was curious imagining the expressions on the Brigadier 's face, when, if ever, he would be exposed to my beautiful and sexy wife's intimate secrets; of which I was the only beneficiary until then.
Some days passed off uneventfully. We all forgot about our brief discussion. One particular morning, Sumi had made a new delicacy that she cooked for us. Before she went in to take a shower, she packed a portion of it in a Stainless steel box to be delivered to the Brigadier as I was going out to go to the office. I hurriedly put the box in my bag, started my bike as usual and had just turned a corner when I realized that I had forgotten to deliver the box to the Brigadier. I stopped the bike there, parked it by the side and extracted the box from my bag.
Whilst I was parking the bike, one of my colleagues, who lived down the road, passed by and stopped seeing me parking my bike. He asked me if I was ok. I told him all is fine. We chatted for a while and after he left, I decided to walk the small distance back to the Brigadier's house to deliver the box. This sequence of events must have taken about half an hour.
There seemed to be no attendant in the house. The ground floor door was open. I presumed that the Brigadier was in the ground floor main hall and entered the house. He was not in the hall. As I climbed up to the Brigadier's bedroom on the first floor, I saw him through an opening in the bedroom door, standing by the window behind the curtains, peeping out to watch as Sumi came out after the bath to do her daily chores.
Sumi had a habit of coming out of the shower, half dressed and dry her hair and hang washed clothes daily during morning hours after children and I left home. Her mother always did Surya Namaskaar (offer prayers to Sun God) in the morning. She did this immediately after bath, wrapped in one wet cloth. Her mother had taught my wife to continue the tradition.
Sumi followed the tradition. She came out when the sun rose and offered the prayers wearing just a wet cloth. She then dried her hair and body and changed into short clothes and did some Yoga Exercises in the balcony. At that time the entire neighbourhood was empty and she did not have to worry about anyone watching her. Our balcony was such that was not easily visible from outside except from one window of the Brigadier's bedroom.
She had a vague feeling that the Brigadier peeped from his bedroom at times hiding behind curtains, when scantily dressed, she did all these chores. My wife was not sure; but still she told me about it.
I told her not to worry too much about that. I explained to her that firstly she was not sure. Secondly, even presuming that he was indeed watching her, what was the big deal? I laughingly told her that although he was older to us; he was young enough to experience hormones rushing in his balls, when he saw a beautiful, casually clad young woman like her.
I explained to her how any virile male would feel in his position who had to compulsorily remain celibate for more than a year, after the death of his wife.
If by looking at her he got some adrenalin rushing through his old veins even for a small duration, why should we grudge him for that? By letting him have a little bit of nice time, we did not lose anything. Did we? In fact, it would be a bad idea to deprive the old man at least of that, since he had been doing so much for us; I put forth a logical argument to my wife.
Sumi could appreciate my logic although she seemed a little circumspect about it. All the same, it put Sumi's tiny head at ease. After all, in all likelihood, it was her imagination and she argued to herself that she had nothing to lose even if our Good Samaritan became a bit younger for a few minutes, if he indeed watched her. Good for him, she thought.
In the next few days she told me that she did not place the interfering clothes on the clothes line to block the view, she was rather generous putting on additional acts for her favourite benefactor; if he indeed was watching. She bent a bit more, stretched her hands up in air occasionally to display deep chasm between her bosoms to him. When she returned into the house after the act, she walked with the typical swagger giving her bums the movements that always drove men crazy. She began to do some Yoga exercises in our balcony that would need a bit of bending, rising legs up in the air, wearing short shorts and skimpy tops.
Sumi's playing this cat and mouse game ignited a lot of excitement in me. Sumi had always been faithful to me and I was positive that never in our marriage of seven or eight years; even a hint of thought went across her mind about cheating or even flirting with another male. Of course there never was any opportunity either. I began to wonder where all this could lead.
I was curious imagining the expressions on the Brigadier 's face, when, if ever, he would be exposed to my beautiful and sexy wife's intimate secrets; of which I was the only beneficiary until then.
Some days passed off uneventfully. We all forgot about our brief discussion. One particular morning, Sumi had made a new delicacy that she cooked for us. Before she went in to take a shower, she packed a portion of it in a Stainless steel box to be delivered to the Brigadier as I was going out to go to the office. I hurriedly put the box in my bag, started my bike as usual and had just turned a corner when I realized that I had forgotten to deliver the box to the Brigadier. I stopped the bike there, parked it by the side and extracted the box from my bag.
Whilst I was parking the bike, one of my colleagues, who lived down the road, passed by and stopped seeing me parking my bike. He asked me if I was ok. I told him all is fine. We chatted for a while and after he left, I decided to walk the small distance back to the Brigadier's house to deliver the box. This sequence of events must have taken about half an hour.
There seemed to be no attendant in the house. The ground floor door was open. I presumed that the Brigadier was in the ground floor main hall and entered the house. He was not in the hall. As I climbed up to the Brigadier's bedroom on the first floor, I saw him through an opening in the bedroom door, standing by the window behind the curtains, peeping out to watch as Sumi came out after the bath to do her daily chores.
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