Shobha and the Servant
Shobha – age 32, wife and mother of a 2 year old boy, Chetan – age 35, Shobha’s husband & works at an MNC. His workaholic lifestyle has taken a toll on his physical fitness, moderately overweight. Bhola – age 20, village born and bred. This rustic simpleton is shy but physically fit. Virgin.
She was unusually energetic today and had insisted on keeping the lights on through their sex. He wished wistfully that he could match her sex drive. She was 32, and the mother of a four year old sleeping in his own room and here he was 36, over weight and beginning to bald. Maybe he should cut down on his cigarettes he thought and that would make him more energetic in love making and match her own vigor.
Chetan lot his cigarette, inhaled deeply and looked into the sprawling city largely dark and with the night streets locked.down and now empty of any traffic. Somewhere a stray dog howled into the night but the balcony of their 20th floor 3BHK in Koramamgala , Bangalore overlooked the silent locked down city. Chetan wasn’t complaining about the lockdown. A corporate banker, his stressful job involved travel, client meetings and frequent dinners hosting clients. All this took a tool on his expanding waistline and he fondly remembered their married life before the birth of their son Bunty and before his promotion. He remember how he and Shobha sat naked in the balcony at night, careless in the comfort that the balcony offered complete privacy from any peering eyes. It had drizzled that night and the Bangalore night air was pleasant.
That was when Chetan noticed the damp footprints on their balcony.
Chetan looked around and it got him suddenly. Bhola, their young male servant! Of course, it had to be him. The balcony extended across from the bedroom to the living room. And beyond the living room lay the servant room now occupied by their 20-year old recently hired domestic help. Chetan had almost forgotten him, and he now cursed his carelessness. Treading silently, Chetan realized that the balcony sliding door into the living room was partly open and he quietly made his way into the living room. The large carpeted living room was empty and thinly illuminated by the moonlight since the curtains of the French windows were drawn open. Chetan tiptoed his way to the other end of the living room where the door to the servant room lay. The door was shut, and a gentle nudge showed it was locked but the light at the bottom of the door seemed to indicated that the inmate was awake.
Chetan remembered that the servant room had a small window that opened for ventilation into the far end of the balcony. He retraced his steps back into the balcony and tiptoed to the other end. He carefully peered around the corner.
It was a few minutes before Chetan slowly retraced his steps and came back to his bedroom. He just couldn’t believe what he had seen. Bhola had been watching Chetan and Shobha have sex, and just as they finished, he had crept away back to his room and masturbated himself to a climax fantasizing about his mistress. Chetan,’s heart was still pounding and his throat was dry and he realised something else that made him feel shamed and excited at the same time.
That he had a stiff hardon.
In a daze, Chetan crawled back into bed by the side of his still naked wife who slept unaware of the storm raging in her husband’s head and the erect cock despite having discharged not very long back.
Speaking of Bhola, where was he?
He watched her walk out of the kitchen last him, her ass swaying sexily and the gown flattering her hips as she walked away. She had that amazing walk, and she knew it and when she wore the occasional tight black skirts to office, she knew that it may the day for the many silent admirers she had there.
That was when from the corner of his eye, he noticed Bhola, squatting on his haunches and dusting the sofa in the corner was also eyeing his mistress’s sexy swaying ass as she sauntered across to her son’s bedroom. Bastard! thought Chetan. Had Bhola seen them kiss, and had he seen Chetan squeeze Shobha’s ass during their interlude in the kitchen?
Shobha had worked as a human resources manager in an MNC before she took a career break when Bunty was born. Sometimes he felt she was a natural at handling people; she was firm, very perceptive and from what he knew very successful.
He waited for her to wake up Bunty and return, when he suddenly realized that he had his company’s morning daily meeting. Ever since the lockdown, the Singapore office had started a two hour debrief of the emerging situation across the globe and everyone in their bank’s sales and client management team had to join in.
t was late morning time and a few lockdown related crisis calls before the husband and wife could get time to catchup. The lockdown had meant that his office was now operating through long web conferences, and he spent most of the morning in his study room that had been hastily converted into office spaces when lockdown started.
Chetan walked across and pulled up a still to sit across the couch and deliberately placed himself between his wife and their servants line of gaze. Shobha put down her book and have him a welcoming smile. She pulled herself from her supine pose and curled both her knees. And that accentuated her long shapely legs even more and exposing more of her upper thighs. The pink shorts was barely more than a panty, thought Chetan. He wondered what Bhola thought, and quickly banished that thought from his head. What’s happening to her, he thought?
In response, Shobha playfully stretched back resting her body on her elbows, her chest thrust upwards and forward and tossing her head gently. It was then that Chetan noticed that she was wearing a sleeveless snug T shirt with the V exposing a tantalizing part of her cleavage. Her full breasts strained against the right cotton fabric and taking the shape of the designer bra underneath flattering the rounded curves of the bosom.
“But, Jaanu, we have someone else in the house too”, he whispered, his eyes darting to indicate Bhola behind him.
” Baby, mene ek baat soch liya hai”, (Honey, I have decided something). Chetan dreaded when he heard that familiar phrase. In their five year marriage, he recognized that this too often meant she had made up her mind on something and would call the shots.
“Baby, hum yeh lockdown enjoy karne waale hain”. (Honey, we are going to enjoy ourselves in this lockdown). “Yeh hamara doosra honeymoon hai!”. (This is our second honeymoon).
She then thrust her chest up and forward and him, wiggled those magnificent breasts of her gently. His eyes automatically broke eye contact with her and rested on her heaving bosom. The sexy bitch, he thought, she is not and she knows it.
” Thoda tease karne ka mann kar raha hai. Aur is lockdown mein who cares kiske ghar mein kya no raha hai”. (I feel like teasing. Anyway who cares in this lockdown what’s happening in anyone’s house).
Who was fine, Chetan thought, and he didn’t have a problem with that. Except that he didn’t know if she included Bhola in the teasing part. Now that was a problem!
She had that teasing look in her eye. The look of a hot sexy bitch, he thought.
“Now watch the show, she said and raised her voice, “Bhola, idhar aana. Saheb aur mere liye paani lana”. (Bhola, get some water for master and me).
“Bhabhi, abhi aaya”, Bhola acknowledged the request using the term by which he addressed his mistress. Chetan felt the quick response without missing a beat almost seemed like Bhola had been listening to their conversation.
“Oops”, she said in an evidently fake reaction and watched for a few seconds as the wet spot spread on her t-shirt. Two pairs of boggling male eyes joined hers and focused shamelessly on her breasts watching almost in slow motion to see what t-shirts covering a shapely women’s breast do best when wet. The wet patch soaked into the cotton of her t shirt and exposed the knitting of the bra underneath. Slowly the faint outline of a thick brown nipple formed like an image emerging through a fog.
Chetan felt a sudden constriction in his throat. He gulped the water from his glass noisily his eyes wide agog at the dream-like act playing out.
Shobha didn’t break eye contact with Bhola’s eyes, her breasts still thrust upwards towards her husband as if on offer for inspection to both him and their servant. Her gaze fell on the dusting cloth that Bhola had perched on his left shoulder, much like obedient servants do when summoned by their masters. Without changing the seductive pose of her breasts, she raised her hand, picked up the cloth slowly from across Bhola’s shoulder and used it to carefully pat the damp spot on her breasts. Bhola’s gaze followed his dusting cloth as Shobha pressed it against her breasts – a little too much, too long and too hard than was needed before placing it back on Bhola’s shoulder. Her long fingers made contact with his shoulder, and he visibly shivered at the touch.
“Bas, wapas jao aur ash karo” (Now go and have fun). Shobha dismissed her servant casually and with a wiggle of her long index finger and a toss of her head and her thick hair. A bashful Bhola clumsily and hastily exited to the kitchen, and Chetan could have sworn the servants pyjamas had a bulge.
Suddenly it seemed, the lockdown had unleashed a sex-devil in her. He realized that after a long time, she had revealed a side of her he hadn’t seen for a couple of years since Bunty’s birth.
She had reminded him of the sexy seductress and bold exhibitionist that she was, and which he had discovered about her in the early days of their marriage.
He recalled that one very steamy incident ….Chetan remembered an incident from their last holiday in Goa.
This was about two years into their marriage and shortly before Bunty was conceived. A carefree couple with an active sex life, they were at that stage where both were very much in love and very comfortable with each other’s sexuality. Their sex life had now settled into a pattern where Shobha took the lead, and this seemed natural to her with her confident extroverted personality.
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