It was the first time that Ananth had seen someone dance in real life. Of course, everyone has seen girls dance. But someone you know? Flirtatiously? with winks and innuendo? Not Ananth. In his forty-five-year-old life, of which twenty he spent married to the woman of his parents’ choice.
He had not once had someone shake their ass, their boobs, with a drink in hand, beckon him with their fingers as the strobe lights flashed across the dance floor.
Lakshmi, his PA of two weeks, was just doing that.
Now to think of it, he had hired her mostly for her looks and nothing else. Her marks sheets were average at best, her skills mediocre, but her looks – stunning. When Lakshmi turned, the tight shirt that she always had on un-frizzed and hugged close to her milky pale skin.
Her mango-sized boobs pressed stiffly as she spoke and Ananth’s middle-aged cock stiffened. His eyes darted to the thin gap between buttons that hinted at a deep cleavage. But he didn’t act on any of his thoughts then. He didn’t get closer when she invited him, drunk and happy, on the dance floor.
That night he masturbated alone in his suite, mostly thinking of his wife. She transformed almost quickly to Lakshmi. She gave him a blowjob, his wife, and his cock drooped. But when the ghostly Lakshmi soaked his cock, it pulsed and hardened.
He quickly ejaculated on the expensive hotel quilts. He washed it soon after. He believed if no one saw him doing the naughty act, then no naughty act was actually done.
Every day after that, Ananth masturbated harder, thinking about Lakshmi longer, thinking of everything he would do to her in the bath, in his bedroom, in the kitchen where his wife cooked. He went to his wife and rubbed her cunt through her nightie, thinking of drops dripping on Lakshmi’s thick pale thighs.
“What’s up with you, Anu ji?” she wife, embarrassed not getting wet for Ananth in the middle of her work. However, Ananth brought his hands out and made her taste the drop or two from her dry cunt. “Oh, ji… What if Mohan sees?”
Ananth felt his wife’s breasts swell after they made love at night. Is that the same with Lakshmi? Are her boobs too like his wife’s? No, no, no. They would be firm. But supple, sensitive, her nipples very sensitive and solid under his palm.
The feelings made him want to shake out milk in his wife and taste the sour, sweet human scented nectar on his tongue. In the morning his pants bulged every time the phone notified something from the office. Could it be Lakshmi?
If it was her, which was a few times before he left home, Ananth squeezed his wife’s ass or pinched her panties a little hard. His wife whimpered, but she didn’t, not once, gave him a blowjob.
Lakshmi made signs of fitting a thick bulky cock against the inner walls of her cheek that night. And Ananth’s was thick and bulky, just the right size to fit in Lakshmi’s hands. If she used both hands, that is.
“Sir?” Lakshmi said, coming into his office.
“Close the door,” Ananth said in his rough business tone. He watched Lakshmi sliding the door and latching it, cutting off the world from his world.
“I have called you here to inform you about your appraisal.”
“Your performance is very average. In fact, it’s less than average. What do you have to say about that?”
“Sir, I am new.”
“Well, if you had put more effort, you would have got these two lakhs and more.”
“Two?” Lakshmi said, “Lakhs? Sir, my salary itself is…”
“Don’t talk back. Now get out. If you can work hard, then show your face.”
“I can, Sir,” Lakshmi said standing up. “Just tell me what work I should do.”
All going according to plan. Ananth had scripted till here. He was venturing into new territory and that scared him. “Anything?” he asked in a low voice.
“For two lakhs, anything, Sir.” She came closer.
“Well, think about it. Again. I don’t want a dull PA who runs my schedule and makes calls on my behalf. There are more interesting responsibilities if you have the desire to make money and live a posh life.”
“I can, Sir.” She came even closer. Lakshmi now stood two feet beside him, and for the first time today, in fact in many days, Ananth saw her completely.
She was wearing a two-layered green salwar with transparent mini-sleeves. Down, she had on grey silk leggings that loosely clung to her thighs. Ananth could see a part of her cleavage as her hands locked the hips.
Today, her hair fell in curls, and large earrings peeked out through wisps. On her forehead, she wore two dark purple dots against the pale skin.
“Why aren’t you in your uniform?” Ananth asked.
“It’s my birthday, Sir.”
“What?” Ananth sweated. “Come closer.”
Lakshmi took a step forward.
“More close,” Ananth said, taking her hand, still sitting on his executive chair.
She took another step.
“Lower your head, dear.”
Ananth felt a violent rush inside. His heartbeat was faster than it had ever in forty-odd years. From this point on, his life would be completely different. Lawsuits, divorce, public shaming flashed as he, with trembling hands, slipped his fingers into her cleavage.
“Aahh,” Lakshmi moaned but didn’t move away. She leaned in. Ananth could sense his entire body aching to feel Lakshmi. Time slowed for him. His fingers felt the edges of her bra, and then, just like that, the soft flesh of her breasts in the palm of his hand.
He gave it the slowest squeeze, and just beneath his palm, her nipple stiffened. His hands sensed the tenderest slippery surface of her areola, the dots around and he could nearly taste it with the tip of his tongue. Then he squeezed again. She moaned again. He let go of her as smoothly as he had touched her.
Lakshmi stood up straight, blushing, smiling at him. She didn’t adjust her dupatta that had fallen off, which revealed the top of her boobs, now pinkish with lines of veins excited by Ananth’s squeeze. This was not what he anticipated.
He had not thought about the aftershocks of being accepted so quickly, so completely by Lakshmi. His right-hand fingers smelled of alcoholic lavender and mint, an intoxicating subtlety that aroused him to new highs by the second.
“Can I?” he asked, feeling Lakshmi’s thighs through the loose leggings.
She stepped closer, her hands embracing his face, running the light green nails over his French beard. With a little skip, she pressed him to her bosom and pinched his ear.
“Yes,” she said and Ananth brought his hand up the thighs, to the mound on her panties. He flicked the pantie cover to the side in a soft jerk and, with a deep breath, cupped Lakshmi’s pussy through the leggings. Lakshmi gasped.
To be continued.