Sardar of Brick Kiln

(Bhim Prasad, the main character of the story spoke in Hindi only. But for the purpose of this story, written in English, all his conversations have been given in English).

On my first appointment as a Civil Engineer at the age of 25, I was posted to look after the construction jobs of a new project being undertaken in a maiden location surrounded by vast agricultural fields on three sides.

There was no human habitation within four kilometers so I had to arrange my accommodation at the nearest village, Manbhanjan that was nearly five kilometers away from the project site. It was a three room rented house, the owner of which lived in the nearby city. He was Santa Prasad, around fifty years. Though he lived in the city with his family for the education of his wards, in dress and appearance he was like a typical rural farmer. The house he rented to me was the only RCC house in the village with AC facility.

When I was having difficulty in finding accommodation after joining the new job, the supervisor of a nearby brick kiln, Bhim Prasad, helped me to find this rented house. Bhim and Santa were distant relatives.

Bhim, around 38, was the supervisor or Sardar of the brick field that supplies bricks regularly to our project site. His physical features fully did justice to his name. He was more than six feet in height with the strong muscular body of a body builder. His appearance with the height, weight, broad chest and strong biceps would remind one of a ruthless gangster. It was needed for the job he looked after, supervising workers, keeping their attendance records, making payments to the daily rated workers, supplying bricks to parties and collecting payment from them, looking after the safety and security of the brick field, handling local goons etc. It was the biggest brick kiln of the locality and known for quality products. The actual owner of the brick kiln hardly visited the field and Bhim was the undisputed lord of the field. He looked ruthless and ferocious though from the day of my joining he had been very helpful to me.

When and how did Bhim come to work in the brick kiln was not known to me. When sometimes he used to visit our project site and stood beside me, I felt like a tiny person beside him.

The labourers that worked in the brick kiln were mostly from the marginalized adivasi population living in nearby villages. However, the hard economic necessities made a good number of people from other communities also to work there. Some workers even came from far away states like Odisha and Bengal. As it is a common practice in many brick kiln, there were a large number of female workers. They used to work from early morning till dusk like their male counterparts.

For the workers who came from far away places, there was a cluster of unhygienic slums just outside the brick field. There were about sixty huts made of bamboos, straws and polythene and three tubewells and five common latrines. The huts were of different sizes. The smaller huts accommodated at least two persons while bigger ones had four to five persons. Apart from the workers, there were children of the workers. When the children grew up, they too worked in the same field and many of them started working before even they turned fifteen. But in official records they were enrolled as eighteen years. Their children never have had any schooling or education. The slum population was two hundred plus including children. The water of the tubewell was used for bathing, drinking and cooking purposes by the workers. The huts were built by Bhim for the benefit of workers and he collected a nominal monthly rent of fifty for the larger huts and thirty for the smaller ones. These were all single room huts where parents lived with their young as well as grown up children. Some larger huts arranged polythene partitions within them to maintain parents' privacy from their children. It was particularly necessary where there were grown up children. Like any slum, it too had problems of quarrel in dirty languages among the inhabitants over water, over illicit relationship with neighbours. Liquor was another reason of their merriment and quarrel. But in case of any problem or illness, the entire slum stood together.

Those workers, who were not from nearby villages, preferred to live in the slum. Many had grown up daughters or healthy youthful wives. If they lived outside the slum, some local goons disturbed those wives and girls. In Bhim's Barrack (as the slum was known) they were assured that none would dare to look at the females with ulterior motives.

Bhim lived in a small house in one corner of the brick kiln. It was a pucca house, the front side served as his office and at the back he had built a big room with attached modern toilet and kitchen on two sides. The room approximately sized 26X13 feet was his bedroom. The location of his office-cum-residence was such that during day time he could survey the entire field through the window. Unlike the slum, his office had electricity and in his bedroom there was an industrial fan running on electricity during the summer. Bhim was unmarried and lived on minimum things. Twice or thrice I had been to his office-cum-residence either to collect the bill of supplying bricks or to hand over bank cheque towards bill payment.

On every occasion, Bhim took me to his bedroom to sit comfortably and offered either tea or lemon juice or cold drinks. There was no furniture in his bedroom. The plastic rope that hanged from one to other corner of the room served as his rack for keeping his clothes. But all the clothes were neatly folded and kept in a tidy manner. The concrete structure was elevated from floor up to two feet, nearly seven feet in length and six feet in width to serve as his bed. The elevated concrete structure of the make-shift bed had a thick mattress on it and was covered by clean white sheet. It had two pillows and a bolster. The kitchen surprisingly had an old Voltas refrigerator, which Bhim frankly admitted was mainly for chilled beer during the summer. The kitchen and toilet were also very neat, clean and tidy.

Whenever I went to his den he gave very warm welcome and would mind if I refused to take something at his place. But there was a rumour against him that many workers of his Bhim Barrack sent their wives or grown up daughters to his den at night and in return Bhim paid them wages even without attending the job on a particular day or overtime wages without working any extra hours. Some even said that the female workers coming from nearby villages also availed this opportunity so that if one of them had absented from work, she could get her absence regularised by staying back at his den on some night.

Before going to sleep at night, Bhim used to give a tour round the brick field to ensure that there was no intrusion by unauthorized persons. His detractors said that often during the round he used to go to the barrack and picked up the woman or the girl of his choice. Nobody dared to oppose him for his power and clout with local politicians and police, as also for the cash and kind favours he bestowed on the family from which he picked up the woman or girl of his choice. It was rumoured that for a suitable victim that served him well on bed, the entire family used to get one day wages extra for each of its workers. So out of fear and greed, the husband agreed to send his wife, father his daughter and a brother his sister. There was, however, not a single complaint against him. But these were rumours which were hard to believe as no victim ever opened her mouth about any such incident. On the contrary, the workers who lived in the barrack were full of admiration for Bhima for his help to them. I too had seen him sending the poor workers or their family members to the district hospital by his own jeep whenever they fell seriously ill. During festivals like Dewali, Holi or Eid, I saw him distributing sweets to these families or giving crackers to young children of the workers. During my first two years of working there, I didn't find anything to complaint against Bhim. During the period of stay in the locality, I became quite friendly with him.

Near the end of 2nd year, my parents arranged my marriage to Mansi, who was then 24 years, three years younger to me. She had just completed her MBA. She was not very pretty but had very bright complexion, an oval face with sparkling sexy eyes, long eye lashes and a perfectly glowing smooth skin. Her chin was olive shaped with a small black mole on the left side of her cheek, about a centimeter away from her upper lip. The mole added to her beauty. She was not very tall but had right curves at right places. Before marriage I didn't see her face to face. My parents had sent her photograph and profile. Just looking at her glances in the photo, I informed my parents that I was ready for the match.

In the "baraat" that accompanies a groom to the house of the bride on wedding day, along with my colleagues and friends, Bhim also participated. The way he respected my parents and my parents-in-laws, the way he worked during the reception endeared Bhim not only to me but to my parents and in-laws as well. His physical stature and personality even impressed my newly wedded wife, Mansi, who later wanted to know from me who that tall person was.

I told Mansi about Bhim, the way he helped me after I joined there including the rental house he arranged for me and other things. Later I also told her about the rumours I heard about Bhim pertaining to his alleged liaisons with female workers. I thought Mansi would react sharply to hear that. But she took it quite lightly and teased me, "Hope as his friend there is no such allegation against you too."

I replied back in equally teasing tone, "So far I haven't heard any...but may be there could be such detractors who would say that he was very good during first two years but after he fell for the girl with a beautiful mole on her left cheek, he too lost his character..."

Mansi laughed at my reply and exclaimed, "Really wondering, did he lose character to the girl with mole or the girl with mole lost her character to him..."

We both enjoyed the joke and then Mansi asked me, "Do you think I should avoid Bhim as far as possible?"

"I don't think so," I replied, "He is neither a predator nor you're a vulnerable prey."

Our sex life began with excitement and apprehension. Mansi was very shy during the first one month or two. But I insisted her to be more free, frank an hud open about sex. Slowly she started to be vocal on bed and to my delight she grew quite horny.

Once we settled down at my place of work, Bhim one day invited us to his den. It was a Sunday. He arranged sumptuous meals for us and took us in his jeep to have a view of his kiln and to the Bhim Barrack. After spending the day there when we were to return, Bhim asked me to take his jeep drive back to our home. When we refused to take his car as it would be inconvenient for him since I couldn't return it before next afternoon, Bhim himself drove us to our home and then went back to his den. It was nearly a distance of 40 km both ways from his den to our home.

Later while changing dresses and preparing to go to bed, Mansi said to me, "Though he looks like a gangster and his huge figure would scare anybody, he has an impressive personality and he is very cordial."

I looked at her with a smile and Mansi said again, "Actually before going I thought I would feel bored as he has no family. But he talked about so many things and kept me cheerfully involved in all gossips and conversation."

"Yes," said I with an under current of taunting, "He knows how to keep beautiful woman engaged."

Mansi understood my tone, she rolled her eyes in fake anger and slapped lightly on my back and said, "His work is over. Now it's my job to keep my boss busy and keep him cheerfully involved..."

She left her sentence incomplete suggesting that she wanted to be one with me that night. We were already married for more than six months by then and had explored each other in every possible way. Her tender body had no curve or cave that didn't get the touch of my lips nor an inch of my body remained unexplored by her caring hands. I enjoyed the touch of her long and soft fingers on my body and had myself delved into her body as if searching for diamonds. So that night when I and Mansi retired to bed, we immediately locked our mouths in endless kisses. I whispered to her, "Let me see if you can keep me involved better than him."

Mansi smiled, her arms curled round me. Then her pink tongue came out a bit and licked my lips. The touch of her tongue, the refreshing smell of cardamom in her mouth and the image of her nude body in my mind were enough to make my member hard. Mansi did something she had not done before. So long I used to fondle her, and though ashamed at first, gradually she allowed me to take away all her clothes. But that night she unfastened her house coat and lo, she was without bra. Her young, soft and warms boobs with brownish areola and stiff nipples were bare before me. But she didn't allow me to look at for long saying, "Don't you know I feel ashamed if you look at them like this?"

And Mansi pulled my head pressing my face on the divine valley between two 34" sized hillocks and the flesh balls were touching my cheeks from two sides. It was a wonderful feeling and I sniffed the lovely smell there and my member twitched in excitement. My hands went to her back moving my hands lovingly on the smooth back. But Mansi went further. For the first time in six months, her hands went straight inside my trousers and brief, and her hands caught my throbbing meat and caressed my balls. It was the most wonderful and thrilling experience as her tender hands caressed my most intimate organ sensuously. I took Mansi's lips between mine and started sucking them. In return, she too tried to suck mine and we engaged ourselves in a loving competition as who could suck the other more. Meanwhile, our tongues touched each other and got engaged in the war of tongues. Mansi's hands were skillfully caressing my cock and balls, sometimes her fingers went to my butts and she would mildly pinch there and the moment I let out a little grunt she would say, 'You must bear this to enjoy more... don't you remember how I screamed when that flesh monster went inside...I'm merciless tonight."

She laughed and pinched my butt again. I didn't protest but breaking the kiss brought my face down to her boobs and taking a nipple in my mouth started sucking it. Mansi reacted, "Uuumm..."

I knew from her reaction that she was enjoying my manipulation of her nipple. I alternated my mouth from her one nipple to other and exclaimed, "You're so delicious, darling."

Aroused by my caress of her nipples, Mansi started to play with my hard shaft more vigorously jerking it sometimes and then squeezing it hard in her fist. We always spent time in foreplay but it was primarily in kissing and cuddling and sucking her nipples. For the first time, Mansi was actively participating in foreplay and applying her hands quite passionately on my private area. The foreplay exceeded the normal time we used to spent and my member was restless to get inside Mansi's cute, warm and wet hole, and to start his act of plumbing. But my wife was in no mood to let it go out of her grip and was moving her fist to and fro taking my dick in her palm.

At one stage, I pleaded to her, "I'm very aroused and could come at anytime."

Mansi gave a mischievous smile, "Let it come... what's the harm...nobody is going to check our bed for stains..."

And she moved her fist more rapidly. I too started sucking her nipples more vigorously to match to the rhythm of her fist on my cock. We smiled at each other's naughtiness and were wrestling on bed when I moved my hand between her legs and touched her wet labia lips, pressed them hard between my fingers and pushed my thumb in her slippery hole. Mansi didn't make any sound though her facial appearance reflected how she felt and as a reaction started faster action of her hand on my rod rolling back my foreskin to the extreme. I knew I couldn't control myself anymore and almost mounted on her just as I started to come. The jets of my sticky cum were sprinkled on her clean shaved pussy and abdomen. We smiled and I collapsed on her - our abdominal and genital areas got smeared in my thick cum as we grinded our bodies against each other. A few minutes later I took a napkin and cleaned the mess created on our body.

My hardness had subsided as Mansi masturbated me to ejaculation before I could insert my tool inside her. But it was not limp, semi flaccid. I and Mansi hugged each other and engaged in a kiss. We started laughing and gossiping. While enjoying the smell and softness of her tender body, I said to her, "We behaved like adolescent lovers today, afraid of penetrative sex for the fear of pregnancy. Now let us sleep in each other's arms."

Mansi laughed and said, "You gave the exact simile of adolescent lovers. But we're not. Let us prove that we are a married couple. Moreover, I am supposed to keep you busy and involved. Forgot that?"

After ejaculating once under the sensuous ministrations of her hands, I didn't feel the urgency of penetrating her. But her words made me remember that it was I, who had the relief of discharge. Mansi was still hot. My member grew hard at her suggestion but it was not that hard to penetrate. I kissed her lips. Mansi bit my lips and forced her tongue in my mouth. I was feeling the most erotic urge in my mind to put my tool in her hot craving hole. But I knew that my dick, though hard, needed to be harder to penetrate. I decided to resort to foreplay to gain full hardness and began fondling her boobs. Mansi moved her hands between my legs to get hold of my cock. Feeling that it was not that hard as it had been earlier she said, "What happened to my boss?"

I felt embarrassed to tell her that within six months of marriage I had my sexual prowess reduced. But Mansi didn't bother about it. She kissed my lip, then my shoulders, moving her face down to my chest and started sucking my nipples. It was a wonderful feeling and I could feel my cock growing harder. Mansi didn't stop and her face continued to slide down reaching my navel, where her tongue went in my navel hole and teased. I groaned in excitement. But her sensuous lips moved further kissing my abdominal area and before I could understand, she rolled back my foreskin and I felt her lips on my glans. I was surprised as Mansi had never performed oral on my cock. She said to me in a sexy whisper, "It's so soft, I like the naughty and woody smell here."

Her words and actions were like a slut, and strangely enough, it brought my tool back to life. It was throbbing in excitement. For the first time I realized that somewhere every man wants to see a slut in his wife while on bed. But more surprises were there in stock for me. I could feel my hard meat sliding in a hot and wet hole and then I felt Mansi's tongue playing on the entire length of my shaft and her lips tightly gripping it. I looked with awe at her face. Mansi smiled. Her mouth still stuffed by my rod. Her sparkling sexy eyes gestured to ask me if I liked it. I brought my thing out of her mouth and kissed her lips to convey the extent to which I enjoyed it. As her mouth was freed she looked at me and said, "If you like, you can hold my hair and fuck my mouth."

Perhaps I had latent desire in my mind too. So after making sure that she really wanted it, I caught her hairs and started fucking her mouth. I looked straight into her eyes that seemed to enjoy what I was doing to her. Her parted lips, with her tongue licking my cock made me feel as if I was doing it to a hot slut, and not to my wife. This had fantastic impact on my dick that grew hardest ever in arousal of unprecedented kind. For a few minutes, I and Mansi enjoyed it like the most horny and dirty couple. However, after few minutes I brought my shaft out and gently made her lie on bed with her legs folded and I placed my mouth on her quim giving oral caress to her by kissing her pussy lips, sucking them and exploring her hole with my tongue. Mansi started moaning loudly at my caress and within a short time we two positioned ourselves for 69. It was the first 69 that we performed as husband and wife. At one point, Mansi pushed my head away from her quim and whispered, "I can't take it any more, please let it go inside and make me one with you."