Lockdown Sex Diaries – Shobha and the Servant Part 2
Shobha put Bunty to sleep early. Thank god, the two-year old was an early sleeper and she didn’t have the problems most mother’s with a kid his age had during the lockdown about keeping the kids occupied.
Chetan and she almost always went out on Friday evening’s for a dinner at five-star hotel or a happening restaurant that she picked. Of course, it was she who always made these choices.
The lockdown wasn’t going to change anything about Friday evening’s being special.
Shobha was a good cook, and quickly hustled up spaghetti and pasta – Chetan’s favorite, and something he always enjoyed with red wine. She hoped Bhola would like it too. It probably didn’t matter too much, she decided. She felt a shiver of anticipation at the experience of sharing dinner at the table with Bhola.
The dinner ready, she took a long leisurely shower and put on another of her evening dresses. She fanned perfume on her neck, and on her underarms. She brushed her thick wavy shoulder length hair until it shone. And applied just a cash of lipstick. She admired herself in the mirror. The lockdown wasn’t going to change anything about the way she dressed up on Friday night!
Chetan finally finished his last call before Friday evening, and massaged his neck. His head, neck and shoulders hurt from taking hours of calls almost continuously. He patted his growing paunch and wished he could be more fit. Maybe like Bhola. The fellow had strong shoulders and a flat stomach. The thought of Bhola reminded him about his wife’s plan to have dinner with their servant. That jolted him back to reality and made him anxious about what lay ahead in the evening. The concept of having dinner with their servant was inconceivable, but what the heck, in lockdown anything goes. Thankfully nobody would know what went on within the four walls of their house. Thank god for the lockdown!
He quickly came out of his study, changed to a set of clothes suitable for a Friday evening. Shobha had specifically told him to dress well, and he didn’t want to incur her wrath
Dressed and dinner ready, he went looking for Shobha.
He found her in the living room, and saw she was looking gorgeous and dressed to kill. She had a one-piece black dress that showed just the right degree of stylish cleavage that would make men notice but pass acceptably. Her dress ended just below her knees hinting at her shapely legs. She saw him, smiled and twirled, the act sending her hemline higher exposing her fleshy smooth thighs for just that tantalizing moment. He walked across, and put an arm around her waist. She smiled back and kisses him on his cheeks, nuzzling and nibbling at his earlobes.
“So, where’s our birthday guest?” , he asked curiously.
As if on cue, Bhola walked into the room.
Both Chetan and Shobha stared at Bhola. The dashing, handsome man looked very different from the servant they knew. The unkempt sideburns were gone, as was the unruly hair. Bhola had generously used Chetan’s hair gel that Shobha moaned him. His thick hair was swept back, glistening with the gel and giving him a smart well-manicured look. He had a strong jawline and a square jaw that went well with the curly hair. The blue slim fit shirt that Shobha gifted him flattered his build and broad chest, giving him a movie star look. The untidy servant from Bihar was gone, and replaced by a handsome, well groomed hunk with rugged looks that most women would give a second glance from the corner of their eyes.
Even married women.
Especially happy married women like Shobha.
Once Chetan got over the fact that the rugged, handsome guy with a great physique was actually their servant, dinner went surprisingly well. Shobha had seated herself between both men at the round shaped dinner table. Chetan loved the food, and Bhola was unexpectedly shy and tongue tied initially. Shobha kept the conversation going smoothly with questions about Bhola’s native place and life in the village. Chetan divided his attention between the food, which he helped himself to generous portions and questions of his own. Chetan poured red wine, and filled all three wine glasses generously and refilled Bhola’s after Shobha successfully got Bhola to down the first glass.
It turned out that Bhola’s real name was Bhuvan and his good physique was the result of working long hours at his uncle’s fields. Chetan couldn’t help notice that Bhola kept his eyes downcast and spoke shyly at the start, but as the dinner progressed, the guy cast lifelong looks at Shobha. Perhaps It was the wine, thought Chetan. Or the Shobha’s cleavage.
Chetan’s mobile phone beeped. He glanced at the message, groaned and got up.
“Jaanu, the London office needs something urgently”, he missed Shobha on her cheek, and noted distractedly her deep cleavage. She made a face.
As he walked away, his distracted mind already on the information request from the London office, a part is his brain told him that he was leaving his surprisingly handsome young servant – now a dinner guest at their dinner table – alone with his very sexy wife.
Shobha poured a third glass of wine into Bhuvan’s glass – she tried not to think of him as Bhola any more. She showed him how to clink glasses and he followed shyly. he would do anything this gorgeous woman across the table would tell him to do, Bhola thought to himself.
A few seconds of awkward silence passed between them. Shobha toyed with the food on her plate. As she sipped from her some glass, she caught him staring at her cleavage. She smiled back at him, and he blushed with embarrassment at being caught out.
“Aapka necklace bahut badiya ha”, he made a clumsy effort to explain the object of his attention. (Your necklace is beautiful)
Shobha looked down at her cleavage. It was a good observation. She was wearing a large swarovski pendant on a thin gold chain that flattered her cleavage, and the black top.
She smiled. “Accha laga? Dekho!”, (Do you like it? Have a look) she leaned forward towards him, the pendant in her hands and trying to get it near him for a closer look. He obligingly leaned forward too. Their heads came close together. He was inches from her pendant, and more importantly from her cleavage. He saw the generous curve of her breasts this close. Her womanly perfume wafted into his nostrils. He had never smelt anything so good and his pulse began racing. Shobha noticed the reddening of his face and slowly moved closer to his mouth. He now took the pendant from her for a closer look. It hung on a short chain, and she angled and twisted towards him. Their lips were now inches apart. She cupped his chin gently, preventing him from moving back reflexively. She then nibbled his ear gently. She could sense the rapid breathing and smelled the manly cologne she had gifted him. Bhola – or Bhuvan – drew a deep breath, inhaling her womanly fragrance, closed his eyes to savour this heavenly experience.
Shobha then kissed him at the corner of his mouth, teasing and barely a kiss. His eyes still closed, he turned around and leaned forward for a full kiss. Shobha teasingly pulled back just that fraction, and brushed her lips against his. Her hand instead reached over to his thighs and lightly cupped his crotch. He had a bulge and she prepared to squeeze the bulge.
Just then they heard the footsteps of a returning Chetan and both pulled back quickly. One with reluctance and the other with fright.
Chetan walked in, massaging his neck and grimacing. “Bloody fellows! Can’t even let us have dinner in peace.”
Shobha gained control quickly and shuffled the plates, now empty. She suggested they move to the balcony with their drinks – something they frequently did – and have Bhuvan join them there. Bhuvan obliged cleaning the table quickly, anything to hide his discomfort and his hard-on.
The dinner over, the three of them shifted to the balcony terrace. Shobha and Chetan stretched out on cozy armchairs and Bhuvan – or Bhola – sat on a beanbag facing both of them. The 15th floor balcony overlooked the sprawling but silent city, eerily silent and traffic-less with the lockdown. A cool breeze was blowing and it looked like the pre-monsoon showers might roll into Bangalore.
Shobha stretched her long, smooth legs, a wine glass in her hands. Her dress rode above her knees and Chetan seated diagonally across her on the beanbag got the an eyeful of those creamy thighs as he leaned forward with his wine glass held in both hands. Chetan sprawled on his armchair, eyes half closed and squirmed and stretched his stiff neck, and lazily lit a cigarette and offered one to Bhuvan. Bhuvan gratefully accepted, took a deep puff and coughed not used to the quality of tobacco.
Shobha laughed, leaned forward and pulled the cigarette from Bhuvan’s lips, took a deep puff herself, put it carefully back between his lips and exhaled with the comfort of a woman accustomed to the occasional smoke. Bhuvan had never seen a woman smoke before, much less share a puff with him and found it inexplicably sexy. Shobha shuffled her long legs and placed them on the beanbag touching Bhuvan’s hips. Even in the dim lights of a cloudy night, Bhuvan could see her creamy upper thighs and a contact of her bare ankles against his hips sent a shiver of arousal through him.
Chetan made small talk and asked about Bhuvan’s village in Jharkhand. Shobha asked him about some neighbours in their Bangalore apartment society and felt reassured when Bhuvan seemed oblivious to the apartment society gossip – it felt like the fellow could be trusted to maintain discretion.
“Bhola, koi girl friend hai Kya tumhari?” , Chetan blew a lazy smoke ring and asked. (Bhola, so you have a girlfriend?)
“Saheb, humari itni kismat kahan”, said Bhuvan, and then perhaps encouraged by the intimacy ventured, “Saheb, aap to bahut naseeb walein hain ki Shobha bhaji aapke sath hain”. (Sir, you are lucky. You have someone like Shobha madam).
Chetan blew another smoke ring, rubbed his hurting neck, and said, “Yaar, tumhari body itni fit hai. Koi ladki toh zaroor patayi hogi tumne.” (Buddy, you have such a fit physique! You must have scored with a girl!)
Bhola blushed at the compliment not knowing how to react.
“Toh Shobha bhabhi itni pasand hai kya?”, said Chetan, pouring and refilling Bhola’s glass. (Do you like Shobha madam so much?)
Bhola blushed again, nodded and grinned!
“Toh bolo kyun? ” (Tell me why?)
A coy Bhola shuffled on his beanbag, gathered courage and said, “Bhabhi bahut sundar hai” (Madam is very beautiful!)
Chetan took a puff and pressed forward with the confidence that he had his man cornered, “Toh Shobha bhabhi ke liye kuch bhi karoge?” (Will you do anything for Shobha madam?)
Poor Bhola walked unsuspecting into the trap and nodded, “Kyon nahi saheb. Bhabi bahut achhi hain”. (Why not, sir? Madam is a nice person).
The fellow is a simpleton, concluded Chetan and turned the screw, “Achha toh apni t-shirt utaro. Bhabhi ko dikhao kitni solid hai tumhari body”. (OK, then take off your t-shirt. Show madam how good is your physique!).
Bhola looked confused and looked at both Shobha and Chetan.
Shobha raised her leg slightly, exposed a bit more of her thigh. She switched on her baby doll voice, “Come on Bhola, utaro na, Tum itna handsome ho, yaar. Sharmao mat” (Come on Bhola, take it off. Don’t be shy. You are a handsome dude),
Not used to the wine or the baby doll tone, Bhola didn’t hesitate. Eager to please his mistress, the smitten fellow stood up and took off his T shirt in a single motion. Bare chested, but oddly confident, his chest puffed up, he waited for admiration.
Shobha looked at the handsome clean shaven bare chested handsome fellow. He was clearly a simpleton and she wasn’t going to stop just here.
She placed her wine glass on the floor, stood up herself and took a step closer to Bhola. She was just inches away from him. Unconcerned about her husband, she put both her hands on his broad shoulders and caressed his upper chest. The muscles felt hard, typical of someone with a rustic lifestyle and physically active. She traced her index finger over his pectorals, then along his upper shoulders and felt his biceps. Bhola smelt her womanly fragrance at close proximity for the second time that night and inhaled quietly. Her husband watching her intently, Shobha rubbed his upper chest again with her flat palm, and then traced the outline of Bhola’s nipple with her fingernail.
Bhola shivered, and felt blood rush in to engorged his cock.
Chetan was feeling a bit woozy with the wine, but not enough to feel disconnected at the proximity of his wife and his servant. His neck was stiff and called for attention.
“Bhola, mera shoulder massage karna” , he called out. (Bhola, massage my shoulder)
A reluctant and bare chested Bhola stepped back from physical contact with his mistress for the second time that night and walked over to behind his master and began massaging Chetan’s shoulder. Shobha shrugged, sat down on the armchair and crossed and uncrossed her legs. Standing behind his masters back, and continuing the massage, Bhola managed to get a good eyeful. Chetan sipped some more wine, took a deep drag on his cigarettes and closed his eyes as he relaxed under the ministrations of Bhola’s kneading of his shoulder.
That’s when it began to drizzle.
Shobha suggested they move into the bedroom, and all three moved in to take cover from the drizzle. Chetan sprawled over on the bed, and Bhola moved by his side to resume the massage.
That’s when Shobha made her move
She lay down on the other side of the bed and crossed her right hand over her forehead.
“Bhola, sirf saheb ka hi massage karoge yah mere liye bhi time nikaloge?” (Bhola, will you only massage your master or will you find some time for me too?.)
Shobha pulled up her skirt halfway above her creamy thighs. Her smooth, shapely legs were bare and inviting. Bhola sat down gingerly at the edge of the bed by her feet. She wriggled her toes to indicate silently with her eyes that he should start there. Bhola dutifully began kneading her soles and then ankles. Her feet felt tender and enticing to touch. He had a great viewing angle to her thighs which remained crossed together. After a couple of minutes, after he felt he had her relaxed, he moved up and massaged her shin and calf muscles. Shobha began breathing deeply, her breasts rising and falling under her top as she felt the strong masculine pressure on her calf muscles. Bhola watched Chetan from the corner of his eyes but his master didn’t move but seemed watching the spectacle closely. Shobha then moaned softly.
Bhola took that as a sign of encouragement and decided to move up, literally. Mustering courage, and emboldened by the wine, he passed over Shobha’s knees and moved up to her thighs. Shobha rewarded his boldness by now parting her thighs. His heart leaped in his throat as he thought he saw her panty. She parted her thighs a bit more before bringing them a bit closer but not before he glimpsed her black panties. Bhola now had a full hardon and was glad he was squatting at the edge of the bed, legs crossed and relieved it was hidden from Shobha’s view.
“Maza aa raha hai?” asked Chetan, lazily blowing from his puff. (Are you enjoying it?).
Bhola stayed dumb unsure if the question was addressed him him or his mistress.
“Bolo Bhola, saheb pooch rahe hain ki maza as raha hai ki nahin?”. (Speak up Bhola. Your master is asking if you are enjoying it). This time it was Shobha.
Bhola felt speechless, and could merely managed to nod dumbly.
“Zor se bolo, Bhola, kuch sunaiye nahi diya”, (Speak up Bhola, Cant hear you!), pushed Chetan.
Bhola managed to find his voice. “Haan saheb, maza aa raha hai”. And then mustering courage, he ventured, “Bhabhi, aapko maza aa raha hai na?” ( Madam, are you enjoying it?)
Shobha turned conspiratorially to her husband, “Dekho, pooch raha hai ki mujhe maza aa raha hai kya!” (Look, he is asking me if I am enjoying it!).
Chetan smirked and decided to taunt Bhola, “Bhola, maalom hai, Aurat ko kaise maza dete hain? (Bhola, so you know how to please a woman?)
“Bhola, madam ke paon kiss karo”. (Bhola, kiss madam’s feet). Chetan decided to humiliate Bhola.
Poor Bhola would have done anything to keep massaging his mistress’s feet. He gently kissed her on her ankles. She rewarded him by briefly parting her thighs. That gorgeous panty again came into view. She closed her thighs again. Bhola felt like a child who is shown a chocolate before it is again hidden from view. He swallowed and kissed his mistress’s toes again. It felt so tender. Instinctively he sucked her toes. This time, she moaned softly.
Chetan leaned across from his side of the bed and brought his face close to Shobha. She parted her lips on anticipation, now getting aroused herself.
Chetan had tasted blood in teasing Bhola and felt fully in control. He stubbed his cigarette into an ash tray by the bedside.
“Bhola, madam ka figure kaisa hai?” (Bhola, how do you like madam’s figure?).
Bhola nodded dumbly, his hard on seemed to have drained blood from his face, and croaked, “Accha hai” (It’s good)
“Madam ke boobs kaise hai?” (How do you like madam’s boobs?) Chetan placed his left palm over Shobha’s breast and squeezed it gently through the top. Shobha moaned again.
Bhola figured if he nodded and indicated approval, this deliriously erotic play could continue for some more time. Already his birthday was feeling like a dream he didn’t want to wake up from. Chetan rewarded him by squeezing Shobha’s breast harder. She moaned loudly and squirmed, parting her legs slightly more.
“Aur dekhoge?” (Want to see more?). Chetan was now feeling like the dominant male taunting a poor hapless weaker male showing off his sexual trophy. Drunk with this power, and wanting to see the hapless servant drool further, he decided to raise the stakes higher.
In one single stroke, he reached across and pulled up Shobha’s skirt over her waist. Shobha shrieked and protested as her black panties were now fully exposed to both men. Chetan swiftly unbuttoned the skirt, pulled it off her body and threw it carelessly across the bedroom. Shobha instinctively put her hands to cover her panty clad pussy but a laughing and drunk Chetan brushed away her hands. Bhola’s eyes widened with lust and disbelief as he saw his mistress’s creamy smooth and shapely thighs and the black panty clad pussy right in front of him. The panty snugly covered thick pussy lips forming a camel toe. He also saw that the panty had an unmistakable damp spot right at the centre.
Shobha was now giggling and rolling side by side on the bed and covered her face with her palms in false modesty. Drunk with power at this extraordinary control he had over two people, Chetan decided he wanted even more. He pulled Shobha’s top from under her and over her shoulder. Shobha’s black matching bra came into view. Shobha was now clad only in black bra and black panty, both snugly fitting her shapely body. She began laughing hysterically like a small girl playing a game with two boys disrobing her in a kids game. She rolled over on her stomach before rolling back again to her back. For a few seconds, Bhola saw her gorgeous ass with a part of her buttocks exposed to his hungry eyes before she turned back and presented him again with her panty clad pussy. Her creamy fair skin contrasted with the black panty and her curvaceous waist with just the gentle roll of fat, then flat belly and a deep navel and a flat stomach.
Suddenly, she paused giggling and looked at Bhola directly.
“Bhola, apna pant utaro!” (Bhola, take off your pant!).
Bhola’s heart missed a beat and his mind went blank and he stared at her dumb and speechless, wondering if he had heard correctly. Then Chetan wagged a finger at him, gesturing for the offending garment to be discarded. Bhola had no choice but to take off his new jeans. His coloured underwear came into view. He could no longer now hide his bulge.
Both husband and wife looked intently at the bulge.
Like a school boy caught by the class teacher with a hardon, Bhola tried to cover his hard on with his hands, but Chetan laughed cruelly, wagged his finger and gestured to him to part his palms.
#Lockdown #Sex #Diaries #Shobha #Servant #Part