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He had lusted for her from the day he first set eyes on her. He couldn’t remember the number of times he had masturbated with her in mind; sometimes early morning in bed, often in the shower, or late at night when he woke up dreaming of her. On a couple of occasions he had even cum into his handkerchief while she was only a few yards away from him, mopping the floor and revealing the tops of her huge breasts and the deep cleavage between them.
His name was Xavier, a young student, relatively new in the town, a freshman at the university. He had graduated from high school in a small town 200 kilometres away from the capital; an average student in all subjects except music. But he was sporty and a strapping lad, having captained the school swimming team in addition to being a star on the athletics team. He’d managed to get a partial scholarship into college based on his sporting abilities, but had to find a part-time job in order to pay for the rest of his fees and his daily living.
Xavier lived near his college campus, having sweet-talked (or so he thought) a relatively elder landlady into renting him the single-storey outhouse that was separated from her large mansion by a swathe of green lawn and a small orchard of trees. It had two rooms, a bathroom, a kitchen, and an iron spiral staircase on the outside that led up to the rooftop. There was a separate access from a back lane through a wicker gate which he used instead of the grand entrance in front. The house was guarded by a 24-hour security service and was occupied by the landlady and her various live-in help, and for the last month by Xavier the college-going tenant.
All the domestic servants, the driver, and the gardener were astounded at the fact that the lady of the house had agreed to rent the outhouse to a stranger. She had never done so before and they thought that Xavier was either a distant relative or he had charmed the woman, a widow from an erstwhile princely family.
Xavier himself wasn’t sure why she had agreed to let the rooms to him. He had heard from a new college buddy while he was still staying at a cheap and dirty hotel about the property. With no further background information, he had managed to cajole his way past the security guards one weekday afternoon and got himself an interview with the dowager. They had talked, and he had been very forthright and honest about himself and his search for accommodation. And she had agreed. Whatever money he could afford to pay as rent of course meant nothing to her and she had said that they would decide on the amount once he got his first part-time job.
The lad had moved in to his new digs on a Friday evening after his first week of college. Both rooms were furnished and the kitchen had all the essential white good products of a modern apartment. The decor and hard furniture, however, was more antique in nature albeit very comfortable and neat. There were large curtained windows on three walls of the front room, each with views of leafy fruit trees. Moving in towards the back, there was an equally well-lit kitchen and further in, the bedroom. Along the short corridor was a narrow broom closet and general storage area as well as a bathroom. The outhouse was well camouflaged and hidden from view of both the mansion and the annexe which housed all the servants.
In the servants’ quarters, the driver and the gardener lived on the top floor of the building while the women – two cooks, one housemaid, and a general all-round helper to the landlady. The cooks and maid were relatively young and well trained, having been taught and coached at hotel schools where they had worked earlier. The fourth woman was a little older, and at the age of 40, considerably mature. Her name was Devyani but everybody, except the mistress of the house, called her Bai-Ma.
The word “bai” in this part of the country could either refer to a maid-servant or be a polite form of address for a woman. The combination word, bai-ma, was a respectful and yet personalised name that the household staff had given her and that’s how they had been referring to her over the years.
Bai-Ma was 5’4″ tall, a tad over the average female height in the country. She had a light chocolate-brown complexion and her skin was still smooth, if a bit tanned. She wore her hair long but usually plaited into thick coils that fell behind her to the top of her buttocks. She had never used make-up and her adornments were minimal; tiny gold ear-rings, a thin gold bangle on her right wrist, and a silver anklet on her left foot. She never took these off, not even when she bathed; at any rate, nobody had ever seen her without these simple embellishments.
She was not petite, nor overly big-built. She did however have an impressive bosom with a double-D cup size, a well-tapered waist, and a gentle swell to 36″ hips. While outside her living quarters, she always wore a saree, the traditional Indian dress which was a seven-metre long swathe of fabric wrapped polatlı escort around the waist, with one end draped over the shoulder, covering a larger portion of the midriff. Her blouses were always half-sleeved, had a V-shaped or boat-shaped cut in front and a rounded back. The blouse was wide enough to sheath her breasts, along with a two inch band below them; invariably tailored to be a perfect fit, like a second skin. If it were not for the drape of her saree, called a ‘pallu’, one would have got a peek at the top of her very deep cleavage and about a six-inch band of naked skin around her midriff.
Although Bai-Ma’s duties were very loosely defined, the mistress had requested her to do the house-keeping, essentially cleaning, of the outhouse every other day. Xavier of course had promised to keep his dwelling neat and tidy but given his hectic college schedule, he would have found it very trying. So Bai-Ma had adjusted her schedule and allocated the time from 6:30 to 7:30 every Saturday, Tuesday and Thursday morning to clean Xavier’s abode. She had followed that routine from the day her lady told her, always punctual, for the last month and a half.
Now, almost ten weeks into his freshman year, Xavier was well settled in the city, his college, and his new home. Although it was the start of a weekend, he didn’t vary his morning routine. Xavier always got up at 5 o’clock in the morning, irrespective of the season or weather. He spent anywhere between 60 and 90 minutes exercising or running before getting ready for the day. On weekdays, he was out of the house by 8 o’clock. After his classes, he would spend an hour swimming and then either go the college gym or informally join the athletics team in whatever track and field training they were undergoing. He was usually back home before 8:30 in the evening, depending on whether he walked or got a lift with one of the students.
Xavier looked forward to his weekends even though he had to complete some chores like washing and ironing his clothes. But most Saturdays, he did gigs playing lead guitar with a band at the nearby discotheque and earned a decent sum of money each time. On occasion, during the working week, the band would perform at private parties and although that impinged on his time, his earnings were even better. Weekends also allowed him to cook something decent, watch a movie on his tablet, read books that he had long deferred. And also, Saturday mornings were Bai-Ma day!
After returning from his short but vigorous run at 5:45, he’d done a few stretches and then had a quick shower before slipping into a fresh pair of lounge pants and a sweatshirt. Sitting on an armchair with his feet up on the bed in the back room, he was flicking through various news portals on his Chinese-manufactured mobile phone when he realised that Bai-Ma would be arriving shortly. Switching his phone off, he began reminiscing about the first day he had seen her when she came over to do the cleaning.
She wasn’t a trained housekeeper but as a rural woman, she knew everything there was to know about keeping a house clean. She didn’t like the urban gadgets like vacuum cleaners and spin-mops; instead she preferred to use the traditional bucket and wet rag to mop the floors and a long grass broom to sweep. That first day she came to do her work, she hadn’t said a word to Xavier; just pushed open the door and made a beeline for the broom closet from where she extracted a plastic bucket, a bottle of Lizol floor cleaner, and a thick square cloth. She then went to the kitchen, ran some water into the bucket, put a capful of cleaning fluid into it, and set about her job. But first, she swept the floor with the long-handled broom.
Xavier was thinking back to that day more than a month ago. Although Bai-Ma hadn’t spoken when she entered his room, he had greeted her with a traditional gesture by folding his hands and saying “Namaste!” He was reading the news on his tablet device, sitting on the same chair he was on now, when she started sweeping from one corner of his bedroom. She was wearing her usual traditional saree but had tied the long drape around her waist so that it wouldn’t keep slipping off her shoulder as she leaned forward to sweep the floor.
Her blouse was coloured a dull ochre yellow and the front was cut in an arc from the round of her shoulders down to about an inch below where her cleavage started. When she leaned a little forward, Xavier surreptitiously raised his eyes from the tablet and looked directly at her chest through hooded eyes. He noticed how the large mammaries pushed against the edging of her collarless blouse, the rim of which seemed to bite into the soft flesh of her bosom. Below the blouse, her smooth midriff stretched till the band where the top of her yellow saree was tucked into the petticoat, but most of it was covered because of the way she had tied the ‘pallu’ around her waist.
He had felt a burgeoning erection pursaklar escort in his lounge pants even though the vision he had been feasting on didn’t last too long as Bai-Ma turned around and continued sweeping the rest of his room. For another few moments though, he found himself staring at her back when she had bent low to sweep under his bed. She had to go down on her haunches as she reached for the far corners underneath, and he gaped at her saree-covered hips and buttocks. After she finished sweeping the bedroom floor, she went on to the kitchen and the front living room. Xavier wanted desperately to follow her and try and get another glimpse of her bare chest, but at the same time was too mortified with the bulge in his pants.
Unconsciously his hand went to his crotch and he stroked the thickening organ, thinking of what he had just seen. When Bai-Ma finished sweeping, she put the broom back in the closet and went to the kitchen to fetch the pail of water and the mop-rag. Standing in the aisle between the two rooms, in front of the kitchen entrance, she soaked the rag and then squeezed out the water into the bucket. She then came back into the bedroom and went to a corner on Xavier’s left. Dropping the cloth on to the marble floor, she hitched up her saree to above the knees and then crouched down to start wiping the floor with the wet cloth.
Xavier covered his crotch with the tablet but kept his other hand over the bulge, continuing to stroke his penis as imperceptibly as possible. In her crouched position, she kept sweeping the mop from left to right and back as she took short steps backwards. Bai-Ma had coiled up her pleated hair and tied it into a large knot on top of her head. The nape of her neck and half her back were fully exposed and now had a soft sheen of perspiration across the skin. After wiping about a quarter of the room, she got up and walked back to the bucket, soaked and rinsed the rag, and then returned to the bedroom and continued from where she’d left off.
She was suddenly in a position where Xavier was looking directly at her chest from his chair as she got back down on her haunches, saree hiked up to her thighs. For the next minute, as she continued swiping with the cloth and moving backwards, the boy was staring at the top half of her glorious boobs oozing over the top of the blouse. Pressed together and pushed against her thighs, the cleavage was deep and inviting, and Xavier found himself clutching hard at his erection under the tablet. Her legs, up to about two inches above her knees, were also exposed and for a fleeting second he thought he spied white underwear past the folds of her dress.
On that first day when Bai-Ma finished with his bedroom and moved on to the front, Xavier quickly got up from where he was sitting, grabbed his clothes and rushed into the bathroom. He quickly stepped out of whatever he was wearing, turned on the shower and stepped under the cold cascading water. His phallus was stiff and erect, throbbing, as he took it in his hand. The cold shower did nothing to dampen his raging hormones as he increased the pace of his stroking till he ejaculated successive volumes of thick semen against the wall of the shower cabinet in front of him. Only after that was he able to continue with his bath and get ready to leave for college. He was a little late that day for his first class.
Now, six weeks later, he waited in anticipation for her to show. He picked up his cellphone and looked at the time; there were still 20 minutes to wait. Despite his Adonis-like looks, his 6’2″ height, and his athletic build, Xavier had never been with a girl and he’d never had sex. The closest he had come to anything nearly like sex was with a girl from his high school when he had groped her breasts through the shirt of her uniform and she had briefly stroked his manhood over his trousers. They almost got caught by their head master, after which the girl was too scared to carry further any proceedings.
The girls all liked him, in fact many loved him, but he had been too focussed on his studies and extra-curricular sports activities to give much thought to a relationship. He had lived in a conservative society where almost all the girls were very traditional and nobody believed in sex before marriage. And now, already six weeks into his first year in college, the girls were all eyeing him and some even flirting with him. This was the big city, and morals and values were very different compared to where he came from. There was a new fear in him now; he was too afraid of his inexperience and doubted his own ability to match the forwardness of the women.
So he had continued to abstain from responding to the flirtatious advances of the girls in college, although he was always polite. His sex life was restricted to masturbating with mental visions of Bai-Ma; sometimes, when he pictured her completely naked, his emissions seemed more voluminous and ankara escort his climax almost feral and savage. He wished longingly, with a craving, that she would one day read his thoughts and turn them to reality.
Bai-Ma looked at her wristwatch and realised she was going to be late that day getting to Javi’s room. (She called him Javi because she had difficulty wrapping her tongue around Xavier.) That morning at 4:00 am, she had gone to the airport with the driver at the Lady’s behest in order to meet someone who was carrying a package for Madam. The Air France flight from Paris had been on time, and the name placard that the driver had held up worked perfectly. What they hadn’t anticipated was a request from the arriving lady passenger to drop her at one of the super luxury hotels, which was a bit of a detour from the route they would normally have taken back. Bai-Ma had used her mobile phone to call her mistress and received permission to drop the woman off wherever she wanted to go.
It was already 6:15 and the remainder of the drive back home would still take another forty-five minutes. Unable to do anything about it, she sat back in the comfortable leather upholstered Mercedes Benz S-class sedan and ruminated about Javi. She had taken a while to accept and like him; he was always so polite and gracious that she eventually succumbed to his charms. And so gorgeous to look at with his long unkempt hair, his beautiful smile, and his fantastic body. Her housekeeping timings always coincided with the hour that he was getting ready to leave for college, so she had seen him in various stages of undress on many occasions.
Sitting back in the air-conditioned comfort of the back seat, she shut her eyes and pictured Javi without a shirt on and a towel wrapped around his waist when he had stepped out of the bathroom after a shower many weeks ago. Wet hair tousled, broad muscular torso, thick biceps, narrow waist, and even the hint of a bulge from behind his towel. She admitted to herself that lascivious thoughts about the boy did flash through her mind sometimes; after all she hadn’t had sex with a man in almost ten years.
Her mind fast-forwarded to last week when she had gone to the outhouse one day while Javi was still in the bathroom. She had finished sweeping the rooms and had almost completed the mopping as well. The morning had been heavily overcast, the skies pregnant with rain. Very little natural light filtered in through the chintz curtains, and she had switched off the bedroom lamps after cleaning the room. Javi had come out of the bathroom and turned to his bedroom while she was still mopping the living room in front. After a couple of minutes she had realised that there were no sounds coming from his bedroom; no sounds that suggested he was dressing up and getting ready to leave home.
While still squatting on her haunches, swiping the floor with the wet rag, she craned her neck to look through the doorway of his room. Although she was crouched in a well-lit area, his room was in near darkness but she still thought she could discern some movement next to the door-frame inside. She continued to stare, letting her eyes adjust, and then it gradually registered in her brain.
Javi had his hand wrapped around his humongous penis, stroking it forward and back. It was easily eight inches long and as thick as a healthy cucumber; he was masturbating, and she was sure that he was looking at her. She dropped her head momentarily out of shock and embarrassment, and noticed the top of her breasts bulging out of her blouse, the dark cleavage going into her bodice like a crevice. She wasn’t quite sure what to do; she had a strong desire to look up and observe him masturbating, but at the same time her mind was deeply confused. Despite her maturity and experience, she had never been in a situation like this before.
Bai-Ma stayed still for a while, her head down as she contemplated her breasts and thought of Javi probably ogling her at that very moment. She felt a stirring in her bosom and deep in her crotch as she raised her head very slowly and looked into the faintly lit bedroom not more than five yards away. He was wearing a light coloured t-shirt but no trousers as he stood slightly at an angle from the door. She wanted him to keep looking at her, feeling a strange sensation of power that she had not felt in a long time. His strokes were getting more sprightly and brisk as she continued to display her blouse-encased breasts and the deep channel between them to him.
She knew he could see her but wondered if he realised that, with her eyes adjusted to the faint lighting, she could discern him quite clearly as well. Although he was probably too deeply immersed in the build-up of his lust and carnality to register that possibility. Or maybe he knew that she could see him and perhaps that gave him an even greater rush of testosterone and adrenalin. As he continued to masturbate, her own eyes began to focus on the massive length and girth of his manhood, mesmerised by the rhythmic movement of his fist as he continued to wank himself. She remembered having had a sudden strange desire to touch herself somewhere, her nipples maybe, or even her cunt, but these feelings only added to her confusion.
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