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WARNING : The may contain some explicit sexual descriptions.
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----------------Manly massage: Part-4
--------------------------------------- It was too early in the morning for
me to start the day. Bachchu had already got up and I told him not to
hurry up with morning tea and breakfast preparation, as I wanted to get
some more sleep, although I was pretty sure that I wouldn't get any more
sleep.All that I needed was a bit of privacy to think with a cool head what
I was upto. I came back to my bedroom, closed the door and lay down on the
The first question that struck me was whether Raja was serious about
what he told me last night. I felt that he was kidding and in reality it's
not possible for a husband to grant a blanket permission to his for
having sex with the domestic boyservant !!! Our conversation took place in
a light and joking mood and I could not tell Raja about how Bachchu
massaged my breasts. So, there was every reason for Raja to believe that
it was just a casual dirty conversation of ours and there was no
seriousness in it. But I knew that my body was on fire and was I
mischievously thinking of misusing my husband's absence for a misadventure
with my servant ? The moment I thought this, I could sense an increase in
my pulse rate and throbbing of heart. I was restless to get back my sex
life and all that I needed first was just a who would be able to
overpower my pain with lust. I was getting horny again. My fingers were
touching my and I was wet in no time. Immediately, I thought of the
barriers between our ages and more so, in our social status. What would
people think of me, if ever a misdeed of this nature is known to others ? I
tried to impose the social norms and taboos upon me. So I must do
something to overcome these dirty thoughts.
I thought of an easy option. My are staying in the other end of
the city and what I can easily do is to grant three days' leave to Bachchu,
so that he could visit his native place and I can stay with my parents.
When I had almost decided about this, I felt sorry that I would miss my
massage. Even if I keep aside the erotic components in it, surely I
enjoyed the massage, which Bachchu had given to me. Then ? Am I going to
stay here ? Am I going to have the massage sessions with Bachchu ? Like
yesterday ? Should I put that as the limit ? Or... ? Again, again I was
losing control. Why should I be so afraid of the society ?
My daydreaming, fantasies and tensions got abruptly halted when there
was a knock at my bedroom door. "Masima, won't you have your breakfast now
?", Bachchu came and asked. I looked at the watch. Surely, it was time to
take something. "Yes, just two pieces of toast with butter and tea", I
After brushing my teeth, I came to the breakfast table. Bachchu had
kept everything ready. I tried to concentrate on my eating. But, from my
sixth sense, which is normally very strong with the ladies, I knew that he
was looking at me. That look was no doubt different from how he used to
look at me before yesterday's happenings. He was looking at my shoulders
and also at my breasts, where he massaged so passionately yesterday. Out
of a sheer feminine instinct, I re-adjusted my saree's protection above my
blouse, but honestly speaking, wasn't I mischievously enjoying his stare ?
Bachchu turned on the ceiling fan, as I was visibly sweating, apparently
because of the sultry weather and the sips from steaming hot tea, but
definitely, the heat of passion within my body had a lot of contributions
Bachchu didn't have much of work in the morning. My husband was away
and I had to use up the accumulated foodstuff in the refrigerator. Rather
than cooking new items, I instructed him to clean the kitchen thoroughly. I
too joined hands with him, so that everything could be properly organised
according the housewife's likings and also to hasten the process, so that
could start my massage early. I felt restless. I wanted him to start the
massage as early as he could, although I had to pretend that I was the lady
of the house and I mean business first.
We were in the middle of the cleaning process, when the doorbell rang.
It was Aparna-di, one of our elderly neighbours. She is a very nice lady
and I too like her. Her only problem, if any, is her talkative habit.
Whenever I have anything important to do and she visits my house, I always
wish that she shouldn't start some long and would rather leave
early enough. But, if she is in the right kind of mood, you can't stop him
and it would look rather discourteous and awkward to get up, mind your own
business and ignore her. At least, I can never do that and I have to
remain as a passive listener, whether I like it or not.
"Ohhh, .... Raja has gone on tour and are you alone now ?" I could make
out from her enthusiasm that she felt I had all the time in the world to
listen to her long long stories. "Okay, why don't you come over to my
house and let's have our lunch there ....", she invited me. " And also
endless chat ?", I wanted to add, but of course, I didn't. No, I was
surely not prepared to spend the rest of the morning and afternoon with
Aparna-di. "Not today, Aparna-di ! I have just started clearing the mess
from my kitchen. It's a huge task. And Bachchu alone won't be able to do
it." "Okay, I understand. Maybe tomorrow or the day after", she said. I
wished she forgets about it. She talks so much that she even forgets what
she says. I wanted to cash on this advantage. "You know, I was eager to
tell you something ,....."she started. "Oh, no, don't tell me" would have
been my spontaneous response, but I had to keep quiet and be a passive
listener, for the sake of courtesey and neighbourly relations. I tried to
devote attention to what she said, but all the time, erotic massage was
going on in my mind. I was looking at the kitchen, where Bachchu was busy
arranging things. What a strong he is ! Effortlessly he could
shift heavy things. I like strong men, I want them to be very strong, so
strong that I can feel the sensation of pain when a squeezes my or enters me !!! Yes, again I was thinking about Bachchu and feeling the
heat between my legs and in my whole body. Occasionally, I was nodding my
head and uttering "Hmmmm .......", just to pretend that I was listening to
Aparnadi's boaring stuff.
"Tell me, doesn't it look bad ?" she asked me at one stage. Believe me,
I didn't pay any attention to what she was talking about and what was it
that she was trying to say "bad". It was foolish for me to express any
opinion, but I had to. All that I could make out was that she only wanted
my approval. So, I said, "yes, yes, it surely looks bad" and I was amazed
by my own stupidity. "I knew you will also feel that way, but just see,
(----blah-----blah------)". So, at least, I could successfully hide my
unmindfulness and felt a bit relieved.
In the meantime, the clock advanced beyond twelve and Bachchu had
finished whatever he was told to do in the kitchen. I felt that it was
high time that I get my massage. "Let me see how you arranged " I told
Bachchu and went with him to the kitchen, clearly signalling Aparna-di that
I wanted her to leave. I don't know whether it was because of this
discourteous act of mine, or because, she herself got tired of nonstop
talking that she said, "Okay, Nandita, do your work. I am going now. Just
drop in to my house, any time". "Sure, Aparna-di, I will. Bye", I said
with full of courtesey and politeness.
Bachchu was ready with the oil. Like me, he too must have wanted
Aparna-di to leave. "Do we start ?" he asked in short. His voice wasn't
normal. He must be expecting to give me a massage like yesterday and
feeling horny. He was visibly tense and I was tempted to look at his
pyjama. His cock had formed a tent there and I could find a spot of
wetness in that region. I was losing control. My hands were eager to
touch the strong manhood of this strong man. But, I am the lady of
the house and he is my servant.I must not give him a feeling that I am in
urgent need of a sex. At the same time, I wanted my lust to flourish under
the disguise of massage.
Bachchu sat behind me. Maybe, he was much closer to me than the way he
did on the previous day. He again started with my hair, then my face,
shoulders, arms and back. It was wonderful ! It was the best type of
feeling I ever had. I felt I belonged to a new world of pleasure. I
completely surrendered myself to him as he took charge of me. He removed
my earrings, my mangal sutra, my bangles, my blouse and my bras - one after
the other without any uneasiness that was present on the previous day.
When his hands at last rested on my eager and was pressing my
hard erect nipples, I moaned loudly, expressing my passion, as he built up
his strengths more and more. He started squeezing my breasts, moving both
his palms all over them to make them slippery with oil.Should I give him a
glance of what he has done to my breasts.The moment this thought came to my
mind, I felt my whole body getting baked in the heat of passion. No, not
now, I thought.
When he finished massaging my top half, I was so deeply engrossed in
pleasure that it was difficult for me to leave it at that stage. I wanted
more of it. Yes, in the lower part of my body. Yes, I wanted it, rather I
was dying for it. And, I had to say at last, "Bachchu, it's wonderful. I
can't stop here. Wouldn't you do it more today ?" I almost begged with
lust. Now, I turned to him. My were exposed. He was too excited
and speechless. Maybe, he never dreamt of this situation in a
lady-boyservant relationship. Nor did I, but it was. At that moment, I
was ready to gift my body to him. I looked at his tent. It was steadily
going up and up. The region in his pyjama was getting more and more soaked
with increased pumping of his juice. It's a human body. Our mind may
understand taboos, morality, inhibitions and other forbidden aspects, but
body doesn't. When a river is desparate to break its embankments, you
can't stop it. And in moments, when the lust is too strong, your mind
won't listen to you. The desparate river will wash away the dams that you
may like to construct.
I wanted to touch his throbbing cock. But immediately felt that at
least he must complete the message before anything gets out of control.
There was a small divan in our living room. Bachchu asked me to lie
down on my stomach. My saree was almost unwrapped. I took out the folds
of my saree underneath the petticoat and removed it completely before lying
down on the divan. My petticoat was the only garment that covered the
lower part of my body and I didn't wear any panties, while I am at home.
After I lay down on my stomach, Bachchu had to start his next part of the
"Masima, eta ki thakbe ?"(Madam, will it be there on your body ?) he
asked with a clumsy voice, pointing to my petticoat. My sexual tensions
were at its peak, but still I hesitated for a moment to directly answer.
Certainly, Bachchu was not courageous enough to remove my last piece of
garment without my verbal consent. I was silent. My was quivering
and I felt that all my juices would now burst out of it. I desparately
wanted my petticoat out of my body. Still I was silent. What was holding
me up ? Social norms, taboo, age difference ? Perhaps everything and
perhaps nothing. Bachchu started massaging lower part of my waist, while
the petticoat was still on.
"Na khul le ki kore korbi ?"(How will you do it unless it is removed ?)
I tried to keep my voice steady, but it obviously betrayed, as the fire
within me was on. Bachchu's fingers reached the knot of the petticoat
string. I helped him to unfasten it and the rest was done by him. He
pulled my petticoat down and down further, below my buttocks, thighs, legs
and toes. He took out the ornament from my legs. I was completely naked,
there wasn't even a piece of thread attached to my body, it was the body
that God had gifted to me, with nothing more added to it.
----------------------------------------------End of Part-4
(Part-5 will follow within the next 10 days. I promise. )