Sangita: Village Girl to Urban Maid

"Then why are you looking sad if you are looking at me?" Sangita asked, a coquettish smile on her beautiful face. Turning back to face the work counter and continue with her chopping, she repeated "Why you looking sad, Sahib? Be happy always."

Ardik was overcome with a strong emotion when he heard her say that. Standing up, he walked to the kitchen and stood behind her, holding his cocktail glass in one hand. "I was looking at you because you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," he said softly, feeling considerably emboldened after almost finishing his second drink.

She swirled around, startled to hear his voice so close to her ears, and dropped a spoon on the floor. They stood face to face, barely twelve inches apart, each one surprised and staring at the other's eyes. They were like a pair of deer frozen in the headlights of a car, unmoving, all instinct and cohesive thought drained from their minds. A full head taller than her, he gazed down and took a deep breath, intoxicated more by that fragrance than the alcohol. She looked into his brown eyes, suddenly seeing the wistful, almost sorrowful, expression in them and wanted to reach for his face with her hands.

But instead, she bent down to pick up the spoon she'd dropped and then turned back to the kitchen sink to wash it. Ardik took a couple of steps backwards and leaned against a row of cabinets, still looking at her. He saw the small garland of flowers pinned to her head and the long braided pleat descend to her buttocks. His eyes stayed on the swell of her lips and the saree wrapped around her haunches, seeing a glimmer of bare skin at the indented waistline below the hem of her blouse.

"Will you have lunch, Sahib?" he heard her ask, still facing away.

"No, thank you. I had a late breakfast so I will not eat now," he responded, his mind returning to the present. He drained his martini and walked to the corner of the kitchen, intent on making himself a third drink.

"You should not drink so much, Sahib."

"These are very small drinks. Don't worry, I won't get drunk," he heard himself say and instantly recalled the stories of her drunkard husband. "I'm sorry, Sangita." He didn't know why he had apologised but he felt rotten as he carried his gin and vermouth mix back to the living room, settling into the plush sofa once more. His emotions were clearly getting the better of him and he chastised himself, thinking that at the age of 35 he should have a more balanced approach towards life. What he wasn't comprehending at that moment was the fact that his confusion was born out of the mix of love and lust that he felt towards his housemaid.

He took a large gulp of the alcohol, placed the glass on a side table and got up to walk back to the kitchen area. This time she noticed him coming but assumed he was heading towards his bedroom. When he turned to the kitchen area, she stopped what she was doing and turned to face him, observing his clean shaven face and the firm jaw as he approached. He stood in front of her, wanting to say something but hesitated; she could almost see the hesitancy and the turbulence that was agitating his mind and wanted to reach out and comfort him.

Ardik shuffled another two steps forward till she felt the tip of her breasts, her nipples under the blouse and saree, press against his chest. A visceral reflex made her draw a sudden deep breath but she didn't move back; her heartbeat went up a notch when their breathing caused their chests to move fractionally and she felt her nipples harden against the pressure from his upper body. She bent her head backwards in order to look up at his eyes, once again noticing a strange sadness in them; a despondency he seemed to be struggling with.

Without thinking, Sangita placed the palm of her right hand on the left side of his face, trying to ease the clenched jaw as she caressed and stroked him. She saw him close his eyes gently and felt him pressing his face against her hand in an almost imperceptible gesture. The frown on his forehead disappeared and his jaw muscles relaxed as he began to move his head against her fingers; she felt the warmth of his ear lobe and the dark curls of his long hair. She had not touched another man since the day her husband had disappeared, and she was very conscious of the societal and caste stratification that separated her from her employers, but she felt compelled to soothe him the way she was doing.

Her conscious mind was not thinking of her actions as anything even approaching physical intimacy, but when she felt Ardik's hands rest lightly on her waist she didn't draw back or even move. In fact she realised that perhaps her subliminal thoughts wanted to free her repressed desires because she delighted in the touch of his hands on her body; his palms rested on top of her saree but his fingers had found the small gap between blouse and petticoat where they touched bare skin. A small shiver ran down her spine as she continued to gaze up at the beatific expression on his face, eyes still shut.

Ardik's fingers moved infinitesimally on her waist and there was a sudden change in Sangita's internal chemistry; her heart began to pump faster as a tingling sensation ran through the length of her body. She felt her face flush and her thighs quiver, her knees almost buckled and she had to rest her hand on his shoulder to try and hide the abrupt weakness. Despite the years of continence, she recognised the signs; there was an accelerated rush of libidinous desire that felt as though a deluge from opened floodgates was suddenly drowning her.

Flashes of memory from a long ago time began exploding in her mind as she too shut her eyes; memories from before she became a mother, from before her cruel marriage, from her last year as a bachelor-girl. Memories not just of sight and touch but of something much deeper, emotive responses to arousal and discovery. She leaned into the man whose arms had gradually encircled her, resting her face against his broad chest as she felt his strong hands on her back. She herself lowered her hands from his shoulders and wrapped them around him, holding on a little tighter than she realised.

Ardik's mind was still a jumbled mess, wondering if his actions were too forward; but as his hands caressed Sangita's back, he was losing himself to the steamy vapour of his cravings and the hunger for her body. He felt his penis begin to stiffen and grow as it became more engorged inside his denims and immediately became frightened at the idea that it may scare her if she felt the pressure against her abdomen. He tried to pull his hips back but his hands, as though with a life of their own, held her tight and pulled her body against his. He became conscious of her heavy breasts crushed against his chest and her arms wrapped around him. His right hand slipped downwards over her buttocks and he felt the ridge-line of her panties under the saree and petticoat; his left palm was flat against her back but he didn't discern the straps or band of a brassiere under her blouse.

She held on tight to his body, not moving even as his hand moved over the draped contours of her derriere, pulling her hard against his burgeoning erection. He was nervous, knowing that he may overstep the bounds of her reticence at any moment but found himself unable to resist the urgings of his body. He felt her breath on his chest through the thin cover of his teeshirt, his chin flush against the top of her head.

"Sangita!" he breathed, barely audible, into her hair as he sucked in a deep breath and tightened the grip of his hands on her, clutching the flesh of her arse with one hand and pulling her hard against his torso with the other. He wasn't caring anymore if she felt his stiff phallus push through his jeans against her saree and against her, but he was still mortified at the thought any second she might back away.

Sangita felt the passion emanate from Ardik in every nerve of her body; she wanted him as much as he wanted her but could she do it? Would she be able to handle the physical intimacy of love-making with another man; she violently fought against the unpleasant memories of the sex her husband had foisted on her and tried to remember the earlier occasions with her brother. She had not thought of their brief dalliance for many years but wanted to bring up the intimacy of those moments so that she could associate sex with making love instead of thinking of it as a brutal chore. Her Sahib was a good man and she felt a deep sense of love towards him, wanting to explore the delicate richness of pleasure and emotions that she knew she could get from him.

She could almost feel the flow of blood rush through her veins to her genitals; the long forgotten feeling of wetness in her vagina alerted her to the tingling sensations in other parts of her body. Her nipples felt strained as they pushed against his chest and her breasts seemed to feel heavier. She wanted him so much, she could feel the pain of longing in her chest when he placed his lips against her cheek and the hot air of his breath blew against her ear. She tilted her head backwards and he immediately found her lips with his mouth; she kept her eyes closed as the sensual touch of his lips on hers sent another streak of frizzle down her spine.

Sangita moaned quite involuntarily when his mouth worked over hers and soon his tongue traced the outlines of her lips before gently pushing its way between them. She opened her mouth and allowed his tongue to probe its way in, flicking across her teeth and the delving deeper inside. Her fingers clutched at the folds of his t-shirt, tugging powerfully as she thrust her hips forward against him. She felt the hard grip of his hand on her buttocks, groping, clutching, as the passion intensified.

Although Ardik had wanted to be gentle with her, thinking to let Sangita determine the pace at which she would hopefully break out of her miserable physical experiences of the past, his ardour was too inflamed for him to fully control. With one hand fondling and caressing her arse, he brought his right hand to her neck and then slid the drape of her saree off her shoulder, letting it find its way to the floor. He lowered his face and kissed the side of her neck before his lips began to roam over the exposed portion of her chest. His hand came down to her blouse-encased left breast and he took it in his palm, feeling the soft roundness with his fingers. The long hard nipple jutted against the fabric as he circled it with his tenacious fingers, titillating it further.

"Ahhhh!", she groaned, fusing her body against his as her legs began to feel weak again; her hands were still around his waist, fingers clawing at the thin cotton t-shirt. "Sahib!" she whispered, "Mmmm, Sahib!" crying softly, whimpering as the flood of carnal desire overtook her senses. She felt every pore on her skin crackle with a frisson of energy that reverberated through her body as his lips moved from the bare top of her chest to the swell of her bosom. His face pressed against her heaving breasts till she felt his teeth nibble on one of her nipples, wetting the cotton blouse that covered it. She felt his other hand come up from her buttocks and grip her right breast, mauling gently before plucking at the nipple with his thumb and index finger.

"Sahib! Sahib! Ohhhhhh! I want you, Sahib," she wept with her mouth clenching and tearing at the shirt over his chest. Her hands had crept under his garment, fingernails scraping into the taut skin of his back, hooking into the muscles that were like ridges across his torso. She was ready; she felt ready as her hands moved over his body, clawing at the masculinity, shoving her hips forward and pressing her groin against him, feeling the rough denim where it pressed against her.

Ardik brought both his hands to her hips and pulled out the folds of her saree from where they were tucked into the top of her petticoat, yanking out the pleats and letting them fall to the ground till the full six yards of pink cotton were pooled around their feet. His hands went to the back and he clutched the fabric of her petticoat, pulling the cloth up to her waist and then gripping her arse over her panties. He felt Sangita's hand on the bulge in his trousers, feverishly gripping the long thick shape that pushed against the denim. She squeezed the massive girth of his cock through the front of his jeans, fingers digging in with a desperate strength that arose from somewhere deep inside her.

He kept pulling up her petticoat till he had the hem and all the folds clutched in one hand; with the other he pushed the waistband of her panties down till he had them mid-thigh and let it drop from there to the floor. He thought he had felt the soft tendrils of her pubic hair but couldn't be sure. Then, both his hands were clamped on the flesh of her arse, fingers hooked and embedded in the flesh as he drew her against him.

In reckless abandon, Sangita had her hands in the front of Ardik's jeans, fingers fumbling at the button on its waistband trying to free it from the buttonhole. She then took hold of the fastener, zipped it down and tried to push his Levi's down his limbs. Too impatient to draw them lower, she let the jeans rest across his thighs and shoved a hand into his underwear, finally curling her fingers around the girth of his manhood and pulling the thick snaky length out.

Ardik let the petticoat drop over her bare arse and naked legs so he could bring his hands to Sangita's breasts; he grappled with the tiny hooks that held her blouse together and managed to uncouple two of them. As he struggled with the last one, she let go of his cock and helped by unhooking the clasps and stripping off the blouse over her shoulders before peeling the sleeves away. She dropped the bodice on the floor and reached for his penis again, tugging at it in a haphazard manner, just wanting to feel its strength in her hands.

Having her upper body naked and bare against him, he yanked his t-shirt off and threw it aside so he could feel her nudity against his own. The weight of her ample breasts squashed against his broad chest as he once again reached down to her waist, looking for the drawstring that tied her petticoat to her. Finding the looped knot, he frantically snatched at one end of the cord and unknotted the sash before pushing the tailored garment down over her hips. Forcing it past her thighs, he let it fall to her feet.

Sangita still had her hands around his massive cock, just feeling its heft as her hands moved all over its length and girth in a muddled chaotic fashion, soaking in the sheer masculinity not just of his penis but the entire experience of Ardik's naked presence. He hurriedly pushed his jeans down past his knees and then stepped out of each leg before straightening up and wrapping his arms around her.

And suddenly it was like the eye of a storm; placid and calm before the raging tempest would start again. They stood against each other, naked, completely naked, as he wrapped her in his strong arms and she played delicately with his cock, too immersed in the moment to be conscious of their surreal physicality. After holding her for a minute, Ardik took a step back, wanting to feast his eyes on his housemaid's opulent and curvaceous body - something he had wanted to do for almost as long as he knew her.

At arm's length, fingers still lightly touching both her hips, he let out a long sigh of wonder and said, "Sangita, you truly are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen." She hung her head down, bashful and coy with his compliment, and released her tentative hold on his erect phallus. He stared at her head and let his eyes wander across her entire body; the smooth naked skin glowed as sunlight finally broke through the clouds and lit up the room with a golden hue. Her cocoa coloured skin looked smooth and the curves of her body were accentuated by darker brush strokes of shadow. Large breasts, heavy and pendulous with their weight, stood out from her chest; rich chocolate coloured areolas almost six centimetres across surrounded the long hard nipples as they stayed erect. He looked, mesmerised, at the deep indent of her belly button and the delicate swell of her lower abdomen before it descended to the profusely large inverted triangle of thick pubic hair.

Sangita, even with her head bowed, took in the athleticism of Ardik's strapping body; the highly developed abdominal muscles and the breadth of his hairless chest, the tiny nipples that looked hard, his biceps and the muscular thighs with their clearly defined quadriceps. But she was most fascinated with, and highly aroused by, the vision of his penis. It had lost some of its engorgement but still hung thick and massive from his hairy groin, his scrotum looking full as it swung gently. Her eyes were constantly drawn back to his crotch even as she tried to avert her gaze to other parts of his anatomy. She wanted more than ever to just feel his naked body against her own flesh, feel the warmth against her skin.

Almost as though they were communicating in an unspoken language, he stepped forward and closed the gap between them, taking Sangita once again into the cradle of one arm wrapped around her. His other hand went to her breast, taking as much of the prodigious fullness into his palm as possible and began to massage the wholesome mammary. His hand grated over the extended nipple, causing her to groan and push her body against his. He bent his head down to the nipple and sucked it into her mouth, lashing across it with his tongue as his cock began to swell once more. This time, his manhood extended and pressed against her bare flesh, not the cotton garments she had been wearing earlier.

As his mouth pulled on her teat and his hand kneaded her breast, he thought of how this once rural woman was everything he had ever dreamt of; she was pure, raw and natural unlike the botoxed, silicone breasted, high heeled, society women he often had to encounter during his days in the rat-infested corporate race. He felt completely at ease in his mind as their bodies moved against one another's, unsullied and guileless as they let their primitive impulses guide them.

Ardik raised his head from her bosom and kissed Sangita on the side of her neck, then nibbled delicately on an earlobe before finding her lips with his mouth. Their faces moved in an impassioned dance as they sucked on each other's tongue and lips, their hands now on one another's buttocks, clutching tightly as their groins fused together, gyrating ever so slightly. He brought his left hand away from her arse and pushed the fingers into the thick moss of pubic hair, feeling the silken texture as he combed through the thickness. With her nipple still in his mouth, he pushed his hand between her thighs and found the gash between the petals of her pussy lips, sodden and drenched with her juices. She squirmed against him, emitting out a guttural squeal that rose from deep within her chest.

She too released her grip on his butt and brought one hand to the front, groping for his upright cock that was flush against her abdomen. She tugged and pulled at its enormous length, knowing she wanted it inside her but somewhere in the back of her mind was the unrelenting fear of whether she could take him in after all these years.

Ardik had thought of taking Sangita to his bedroom and easing her into a gentle session of making love but the agony of their wait and the urgency of their desires was too compelling at that moment. The eye of the storm had passed and the fever was now burning in both of them, ravaging their insides, seeking a release.

He straighten up, taking his face away from her boobs, placed his hands on her hips and turned her around till she was facing the kitchen counter. From behind her, he put one hand between her thighs and furrowed his fingers along the length of her labia till he felt the stiff protrusion of her clitoris. Cautiously rubbing the slippery nub with one finger, he took his thick phallus in the other hand and placed it against the rounded contour of her arse.