“Hi, Rii,” Rupali waved to me in her usual high-pitched squeaky voice and her usual enthusiasm.
She called me Rii, which was short for Rhea. I was walking back to my building from the nearest ATM when I saw her. Her demeanour always made me giggle; she was like a thirty-two-year-old child.
“Hi, Rups,” I said, shortening her name in turn.
“What’s up?” she asked as we stood near our building.
“Nothing much; just spending the summer vacation, doing chores etc,” I replied with a sigh.
“Apart from that, you seem to be doing a little more,” Rupali said, her eyes displaying an intention of mischief.
“What do you mean?” I asked her, sounding puzzled
“The Frenchman seems to be bowled over by your charm,” she said before giggling.
“What… what are you talking about?” I asked her, trying to dismiss her.
“The English tuitions, the morning jogs, hmm, something’s happening!” she said in a very childish manner. She was teasing me like teenage girls teased each other.
“What nonsense. He requested me to teach him English because he knows I am a teacher and I have been telling you to come for the morning jog for the last one year but you’re too lazy to wake up early. All the other women are also irregular. I know your husband leaves for work without lunch in his hand and breakfast in his stomach, you lazy bum,” I replied, checkmating any further moves she had.
From having that smug, mischievous smile on her face, she went to a frown with my comment. All these years with her had taught me how to counter her and I was now an expert in it and I enjoyed doing it.
“Relax, I was just joking. Nothing is going on between me and Jacques,” I replied as I kept my hand on her shoulder to console her ego.
“Wanna join me for tea?” I asked her and she nodded silently to which I smiled and pulled her close.
“Hi, Rhea!” I heard just as we were about to walk to my house. We both turned around to see Jacques walking towards us. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and stone grey trousers with a pair of black shoes. It looked like he had returned home after a day at work.
“Hi, Jacques,” Rupali said to him in a manner that was not meant to be a greeting to him but a taunt at me.
“Hello,” he replied smiling awkwardly, it seemed he got a sense of her tone as well.
“Office done?” I asked him, brushing Rupali to the side in this conversation.
“Yes,” was all Jacques replied. It seemed neither of us was comfortable talking more in front of Rupali. As it is, she was teasing me and I didn’t want to give any more cannon for her to throw around, and Jacques realising that too, nodded slightly and stood in front of us with an awkward smile.
“Goodbye,” he said.
“Bye,” I replied.
“Bye, Jacques,” Rupali replied in the same teasing manner, gently thrusting her elbow and giving me a mischievous smile.
Jacques flashed an awkward yet cute smile before walking past us to the elevator.
“He’s totally into you,” Rupali almost screamed at me as soon as the elevator doors closed behind Jacques. I winced hearing her squeaky voice so close to my ear and loud enough for someone else to hear.
“Shut up. Are you in for that tea or not?” I cut her down before she said anything. She nodded and we started walking to the elevator.
“You have to agree with me on one thing, though. He is hot,” she said as the elevator started moving up.
“That I will agree to,” I replied and winked at her to which she winked back at me.
———
A couple of weeks had passed since the day I caught Jacques staring at my assets at the jogging track. We would meet every day in the morning on the track for some stretches and then a few rounds around the track.
I hadn’t objected to him checking me out and every day, I thought I would say something about it to him but in the end, I wouldn’t say anything.
He too didn’t broach the topic but silently kept an eye on me. He didn’t take my silence as an open invitation and wasn’t a total jerk. A total jerk would’ve stared at me lecherously and perhaps taken liberties but Jacques didn’t.
Even though I caught him stealing glances at my butt and my boobs whenever he could, he would simply look away feigning innocence the moment I looked at him. I smiled at myself for indulging in such childish plays.
One day, after the routine run was over, I came back home and started my chores. I hadn’t hired a maid and preferred to do everything myself. That way, I could be used to working around the house and found another reason to burn calories.
I picked out the freshly washed clothes from the dryer and put them in a basket before walking to the balcony to hang them to dry. As I was busy putting the clothes over the line, I noticed someone on the balcony upstairs. I looked up to see Jacques standing on his balcony.
He was topless with just a towel tied around his waist and a cigarette in his hand. He leisurely smoked, looking into the skyline of the city and occasionally down at the street. The first thing that I noticed about him was that he was fit. He wasn’t pumped up like a bodybuilder but had an athletic body.
Broad, muscular shoulders gave way to pronounced shoulder bones. His pectoral muscles were clearly outlined with impressive cuts and even from a distance, I could make out that they were hard. He unknowingly hardened his abdomen and his washboard abs became visible as his clear-cut hip muscles protruded outwards.
He had no hair on his chest and I was a little impressed by it. I always had a thing for men with a shaved chest. I had asked my husband many times to shave his chest but he simply refused.
He thought that chest hair was a sign of manliness and that the models were gays for shaving their body hair off. But from one look at him, I knew Jacques was far from being a gay man. He was one of the most beautiful specimens of men that I had ever seen.
The balcony had two walls on the side but only railings at the front which didn’t hide anything. He had tied the towel below his navel and it covered his body right up to his knees. I saw something protrude out of his crotch and gasped when I realized what it was.
Was he having an erection? If yes, then that seemed impressive and if no, then that was even more impressive. I was sure that he didn’t know I was down here looking at him in that state and there wasn’t anything arousing about the skyline that his penis would poke out. So, in conclusion, I was impressed.
As I was dumbly staring at him, he realized my presence. He quickly burnt out his cigarette and threw it on the balcony floor and started waving at me with his usual boyish smile. His waving hand brought me back to Earth as I smiled back at him and waved.
We were some distance apart so talking was out of the question. Instead, we simply kept smiling at each other for the next couple of minutes. He gestured to me that he had to go and I nodded and just as he was about to turn around, his towel fell to the floor.
He was stunned at the sudden wardrobe malfunction and fumbled to pick up his towel. In a normal case, one would avert their eyes when such a thing happened in front of them but I shamelessly observed his failed attempts to save his modesty. I giggled and kept watching him instead of looking away.
He finally managed to tie the towel back around and looked at me. His cheeks were flushed and he was smiling from ear to ear, albeit with a profound sense of shame and awkwardness. I kept giggling as he waved goodbye and walked back inside.
I walked back inside my house, still laughing at the episode. My laughter died down when I recalled what I saw. For a fleeting second, his crotch was open for me to see, and was enough for me to know what he packed under there.
I was sure that no one would have an erection at such an awkward moment and his flaccid cock was still bigger than the erect ones I had seen before. Just like the rest of his body, his crotch too was cleanly shaved, which made his cock look even bigger. I brushed aside the thoughts of his manhood before I got damp again and got back to work.
————–
It was an unusually hot and humid summer afternoon even for a city like Mumbai. I had just finished eating lunch and was lazing on the couch watching TV. Afternoon programs on TV are far too boring with their talk shows, boring soaps and the repeat telecast of the far more boring soaps shown the previous evening. I was about to go to sleep when
I heard the doorbell. Startled, I got off the couch and walked to the door. When I opened it, I saw Jacques standing there.
“Hi, Rhea. Can I come in?” he asked. I smiled at him and stepped aside to let him in.
“What brings you here?” I asked him as I sat on the couch opposite him.
“The office is closed today and I had nothing else to do. I have not seen Mumbai, the famous places,” he said in his thickly accented and broken English. “Can you show me around? I’d love to see the city. I have not seen the city except on the way to and back from the office,” he requested, showing his usual boyish reluctance and charm.
I thought about it for a second. What important things did I have to do right now? None. What would I end up doing if I stayed here? Nothing besides a nap. And the decision was made.
“Okay. Let me get ready and I will meet you at the gate in half an hour,” I replied. He smiled at me and left.
Half an hour later, I was walking to the gate of the complex. I was wearing a white t-shirt and faded blue jeans with inch high heels adorning my feet. I had put on some strawberry lip balm and a pair of sunglasses to protect me from the glare.
With a handbag in my hand, I walked to the gate and saw Jacques standing there. By some weird coincidence, he was wearing a white t-shirt and faded blue jeans as well. We smiled at each other when we realised that we were both wearing similar types of clothes.
“I hope you have those jeans buckled tight this time. We don’t want any embarrassment in public,” I said before laughing. Jacques cringed as he remembered the balcony fiasco before smiling awkwardly. I continued laughing as I recalled the incident.
He called for a taxi and we were off to the Gateway of India. It was the most famous monument in the city, a strong standing symbol of India’s colonial past and what better place to start the tour. Half an hour later we were at the Gateway and after paying the cab driver, we started walking to the monument.
“The British built this monument to commemorate the landing of the royal couple King George V and Queen Mary when they arrived in 1911,” I said as I started telling him about the monument’s history.
I told him about the Taj Mahal Hotel and the history of Mumbai in general. Jacques listened to my speech intently, nodding his head now and then while looking at the places and spots that I pointed out earnestly.
Once the history lesson was done, it was time for photographs. Jacques pulled out his cell phone and started clicking pictures of the whole place. Like any other enthusiastic foreigner, he went on a photography spree clicking pictures of perhaps the most irrelevant things.
“We should take a photograph of us,” Jacques said to me, beckoning me closer.
“Sure why not,” I said as I walked to him. He stood close to me and raised the cell phone in his arm to click a selfie.
I could smell the sweet fragrance of his cologne mixed with his natural odour, making it a heady mix of masculinity.
He gently held my arm and said, “Smile.” Just as we were about to smile and let the camera do its job, he squeezed my arm a little and pulled me closer to him.
I felt his touch and the squeeze as clearly as I heard the camera’s click. He held me close to him even after the picture was taken under the pretext of showing me the picture. I silently stayed in my place letting him feel my arm.
“Let’s take one more from your phone,” he said and I couldn’t refuse. I grabbed my cell phone from my handbag and handed it to him. He switched on the camera and again pulled me closer to him but this time his hand left my arm. He snuck his hand through the gap between my waist and my hand and gently held my waist.
We said “smile” again before the camera clicked but this time, Jacques snuck his hand under my shirt and squeezed my naked waist. I jumped a little when I suddenly felt his hand just as the camera clicked and the photo was ruined.
“Ohhh. You moved,” he said feigning innocence. I didn’t ruin the picture. He did by squeezing my waist but I didn’t say that to him and simply blushed.
Emboldened by my reaction, he asked for another picture and asked me standstill, the sly little boy that he was, while he held on to my waist under my t-shirt the whole time.
We stood close again for the picture and this time he pulled me in even more to a point that I had to move my other arm to get closer to him. I moved my hand behind him and just as the camera was about to click, I smacked his tight little butt, making him jump this time. He looked at me, surprised at the move and the initiative that I had taken. From being such a daring woman a moment ago, I reverted to being a demure woman when Jacques smiled at me.
We decided to go for one last picture and this time we grabbed each other’s waist, pulling each other closer. When the picture clicked, it was a perfect shot.
After that, we went to the Leopold café, a famous hangout amongst the locals and the foreigners. The moments at the Gateway had lightened the mood and we were chatting freely. We had a couple of beers and some snacks before we headed out to the next location, The Marine Drive.
“This pace is called the Queen’s Necklace,” I told him as we sat on the platform on the side of the drive, staring at the sea.
“Why?” he asked me as he looked around.
“You should see this place after dark and then you’ll know why,” I replied and looked ahead at the sea.
At the back of my mind, I started recapping all the moments that had led up to this and wondered where was this leading to and if it was the right thing. My chain of thoughts was broken when Jacques asked me where we were going next.
We took a walk up the Marine Drive before calling it a day. We decided to take a double-decker bus this time, as it was a leisurely and iconic mode of transport other than the other most famous mode of transport in Mumbai, the local train.
I didn’t want Jacques to be traumatized by the maddening rush of the trains but rather have pleasant memories of this city.
As we were travelling on the bus, I looked up from the window to see dark clouds gathering. Just a few minutes ago, the sun was shining brightly over us but the clouds gathered so quickly that I realized a huge downpour would start any minute and it did.
The rains started lashing the streets of Mumbai.
Soon the bus arrived at our intended stop and we had no choice but to get down. With no umbrella or any other form of cover, we decided to walk home in the rain.
Running was futile because our homes were pretty far away and we would still end up drenched since the trees wouldn’t provide enough cover. So instead of wasting our breaths on running and risk slipping, we decided to walk home, completely wet.
I opened the door of my house and we both walked in. I rushed to the bedroom to bring us a couple of towels. Offering him a towel, I started rubbing my hair off all the water and watched as Jacques did the same.
He was sitting on a dining table chair and wiping his head when I reached over and took his towel from him. I sat on the chair next to him and faced him.
I rubbed the towel over his head a few times, and he bobbed his head with my movement. I giggled at his childish behaviour and continued rubbing it.
“Achoo. Achoo!” Jacques sneezed. I realized that he was at risk of catching a cold and briskly pulled his wet shirt off his body, not realizing what I had just done.
I had partially undressed a man, a relative stranger in my living room. A part of me tried to justify that it was for his well-being and I was just being a good host but a part of me knew what I was risking.
I sat there staring at him, pondering over my actions when I realized that he too was staring at me. He moved forward, bringing his face closer to me, his lips an inch from mine.
I kept staring at him as he leaned in gently. I felt his lips gently touch mine and I moved my head back. My heart raced as I realised what had just happened but didn’t have the strength of resolve to stop it.
He moved forward again, touching his lips to mine in that same gentle manner while looking at me for a sign. I didn’t react but rather stayed still and perhaps that was the sign he needed when he closed his lips over mine.
I closed my eyes as I felt his soft lips on mine and his breath flowing over them. A few moments of silence passed as we kept our lips locked to one another without moving.
He finally took the initiative and moved his lips. I didn’t kiss him back nor did I move my lips away as he kissed me deeply. I was still, from the surprise, the fear and the awkwardness but all that flew away when he gently bunched the wet hair at the back of my head and pulled me closer.
I opened my lips and kissed him back. Our kiss started getting more intense. Our lips munched on each other and our pulses quickened with each passing moment.
Without breaking the kiss, Jacques pulled my chair closer to his, bringing me closer to him before focusing back on the kiss. I placed one hand on his thigh, feeling the wet fabric of his jeans and the other on the armrest of the chair.
He had one hand on my shoulder and the other behind my head, caressing the soft skin and the wet hair, turning me on even more.
He pulled me out of his chair and into his lap and I went willingly without uttering a single word. Instead, I kissed him harder. I held his head in my hands and he held me in his arms as we kissed like a newly dating couple.
I felt his hand gently cup my breast, making me moan in pleasure and protest at the speed and way things were heading. But I didn’t say or do anything to stop him. Instead, I kept kissing him even more as his hand squeezed my breast before tweaking my nipple.
Jacques swiftly pulled my shirt over my head and I simply raised my arms to let him. Once the wet t-shirt was off, our lips fused together once more as he simultaneously started mauling my breast.
His hand slowly crept up behind me and I felt it on the bra strap. He clicked it open and was about to pull it off before I heard my cell phone ring and pulled away from him to attend the call, thanking God for the timely phone call before things got out of hand.
“Hello?” I said, still shivering from the cold and the proceedings.
“Hey, baby! It’s me.” I heard my husband’s voice at the other end. My pulse quickened as I checked his number, it was the one he used when he would be in India.
“I am coming home,” I heard my elated husband on the phone.
“Where are you, baby?” I asked him.
“I’ve landed at Cochin. I am getting a week off so I thought I’ll spend it with you at home. I’ll be home by tomorrow,” he replied. I walked back to the living room and stood a couple of feet away from Jacques who was still seated in the chair, looking at me intently.
“Okay baby, come home soon. I am waiting,” I said before disconnecting the call. I kept the cell phone on the table and looked at Jacques.
I noticed he wasn’t looking me in the eye and followed his gaze to my bare breasts. The cell phone rang the moment he had unhooked my sleeveless bra and in my hurry to get away from him, I didn’t realise it.
I was standing in front of him, talking to my husband with my uncovered breasts for him to stare at without realizing it myself. That was some fucked up shit right there.
I ran back inside the bedroom and I heard Jacques laughing loudly. I looked around for something decent to cover myself and I couldn’t find anything.
I simply grabbed a towel and tied it around my chest and walked out to the living room. Jacques was standing at the door, about to leave.
“Now we are even, Rhea,” he said before laughing out loud. All I could do was cringe in embarrassment. He opened the door and walked out.
———–
“Have you taken the keys to the house?” I asked Varun, my husband, as I stood outside our apartment.
“Yes, I have and also the keys to the car,” he replied as he closed the door and locked it. We were going out for dinner and then a movie.
Whenever my husband came home after a tour, we would go out often, since that was the only time we could enjoy as a married couple. The evenings would be to go out for a movie, club or dinner and the rest of the day would be spent lazing around and having sex.
Varun still had two days out of the week’s vacation left and he would leave the day after on his ship and wouldn’t return for months. It had been five days since the fateful evening when Jacques and I had made out in my living room.
Even though my husband’s timely phone call had prevented us from going any further, I still cringed in embarrassment at the thought of him staring at my naked breasts but a part of me would smile recalling it.
Varun and I were about to get into the car when we saw Jacques. He was walking into the building. He first smiled at me and nodded his head before stopping in front of us.
“Hello, Jacques,” I said and smiled.
“Hello, Rhea,” he replied.
“Varun, this is Jacques, our new neighbour I was telling you about the other day.” I introduced Jacques to my husband.
“Hi, I am Varun, her husband. It is nice to meet you,” Varun said and smiled, extending his hand at Jacques.
“Nice to meet you too,” Jacques replied and they both shook hands.
“My wife tells me she is teaching you to speak English. She is a good teacher. But don’t forget to pay your fees,” Varun joked and started laughing. Jacques and I joined the laughter.
“No, I won’t,” Jacques replied.
“Hey Jacques, since I am here for just a couple of nights more, why don’t you join us for dinner tomorrow night. We will have your company and you’d enjoy some Indian hospitality. How does that sound?” Varun asked.
‘What the hell?’ was my first thought when I heard my husband say what he just said. He was inviting a man with whom I had a brief intimate liaison just a couple of days ago.
I couldn’t blame him since I had not told him about it. I had only told him what he needed to know. But still, the idea of having Jacques for dinner made me uncomfortable.
The idea that my husband and the other man would be having a cosy dinner while in my company gave me a chill. Since both were men, a couple of beers would be obvious. What if Jacques spoke up or worse, what if he tried to do something after downing a couple of drinks. Not only would that end up in a violent altercation but spell doom for my marriage.
Just as I occupied thinking about ways to thwart the plan Jacques said, “Sounds good to me,” he said, smiling at me and Varun.
‘Shit,’ I thought. How could I end this nonsense? Jacques seemed more than elated at the invitation but tried curtailing his enthusiasm with my husband unaware of the past, stood clueless.
“Ok then. How about eight tomorrow night?” Varun asked to which Jacques nodded before they shook hands again. The men were finalizing the plan without even asking me; Men!
“Thank you and, Rhea, you look nice today. The sari is nice,” Jacques complimented me. I was wearing a blue chiffon saree with a black blouse. My hair was tied loose and was flowing over my shoulders right down to the middle of my back. Varun liked it when I let my hair flow free and I would oblige him.
“Thank you, Jacques,” I said with a smile. What else could I say at that moment? It would be rude to cancel the plan and trying to find a reason behind it would be even more difficult. I just smiled and kept my mouth shut as I felt my heart thump faster in my chest.
“Well, you haven’t said anything about my suit,” Varun said and they both started laughing. I just gave out a fake laugh trying to blend in without showing any discomfort. We bid goodbye to Jacques and headed out.
————
“Good evening! Come on in,” I heard my husband from the kitchen. I looked up at the clock and it was five past 8 and I realized Jacques was here. I was busy cooking and didn’t go out to meet Jacques.
I had been preparing for dinner since early evening. I was aware that Europeans have very little tolerance to spice and, hence, Indian food so I decided to tone down the true Indian delicacies that I had prepared for tonight.
After a while, I walked out to the living room to see my husband pouring a couple of drinks for him and Jacques. I smiled at Jacques and he reciprocated with a smile and a gentle nod.
He was seated on the sofa chair with his hands resting on the armrests. Varun had put on some football match. I wasn’t sure which teams were playing and I didn’t care but the men seemed enthusiastic.
I excused myself back inside the kitchen. Since the drinks were being served, I was going to serve the appetizers. I poured some peanuts into a bowl and some chicken tikka that I had prepared on a plate and walked back to the living room.
Varun was seated on a sofa chair opposite Jacques and both of them were looking sideways at the TV which was a few feet away. I placed the appetizers on the table before picking up the plate of tikkas and walking over to Jacques.
I bent down holding the plate in front of him, offering him the delicacy. Jacques looked up at me before lowering his gaze at my cleavage. He picked up a tikki with a toothpick while continuing to stare at my tits.
“Those are nice,” he said and winked at me. I looked at him with wide eyes, knowing full well what he was referring to. My husband was sitting just a couple of feet behind me and this man was complimenting me about my boobs.
Outrageous! I was standing in front of Jacques with my back facing Varun and so it prevented Varun from seeing what Jacques was looking at and what he was complimenting. I didn’t hear anything from Varun so I realised he was just watching the match.
Shock gave way to embarrassment as I blushed and looked at Jacques who was now looking at me with a knowing smile, chewing on the meat. I turned around and went to Varun to serve him some tikkis, all the time worried that he might notice my flushed red cheeks but, thank god, he didn’t. The men continued watching the game and I went back to the kitchen to look after the main course.
A few minutes later, I heard footsteps entering the kitchen. I thought Varun had walked in and I turned around and was about to say something when I realised that it was Jacques. I was alarmed as he walked towards me. Had my silence and blush encouraged him to do something more? I simply turned back to the kitchen counter and continued cooking. He stood at my side with his butt touching the kitchen counter and sipped on the drink.
“I just wanted to compliment you on this chicken you’ve made so I requested your husband if I could do it in person and he said okay,” he said, justifying his presence near me.
“Thank you,” I replied as I looked at him with a feeble smile and then looked down at the counter.
He walked behind me and before I could look back at him, I felt his hand gently brushing away my hair over my ear. I gasped and stood still, scared to shit at what he was doing. He was touching me in a way he wasn’t supposed to when my husband was just a few feet away from us.
I felt his breath on my neck and realised how close he was to me. He brought his mouth to my cheek and gently placed a kiss on it before withdrawing.
I stood still. I could feel my heart beating faster and my pulse raced as I realised what had just happened. Even though it was a peck on the cheek, it was highly inappropriate of him to do it to me.
He walked out of the kitchen and I stood still holding on to the edge of the kitchen counter, still trying to come to terms with what had just happened.
A minute later, I got back to cooking. I had to behave normally as if nothing happened because I didn’t want my husband to suspect anything. Once the dinner was cooked, I walked back to the living room and sat on the armrests of the chair Varun was seated on and silently watched the match.
My mind was still recalling the incident in the kitchen and the football match was the least of my concerns. I could hear the men cheering occasionally at the proceedings of the match but I kept recalling the kitchen incident and also the incident that happened previously.
The match was over soon and Varun asked me to serve the dinner. I brought the vessels out to the dining room and Varun got the plates and the cutlery. We all sat at the dining table for dinner.
I had prepared Chicken Biryani which was Varun’s favourite and I also knew Jacques would be aware of it since it was one of the most famous Indian dishes in the world.
We had a large dining table with a capacity to accommodate eight people. One chair each along the breadth of the table and four chairs along its length on both sides. We had opted for a sun mica-coated wooden top instead of the glass one from the fear of the shattering glass.
Varun was seated on the chair along the breadth while I and Jacques were seated on chairs along the length, facing each other.
We all started eating and both men complimented me for the cooking. Jacques seemed to be enjoying the biryani and I was relieved since he didn’t find it too spicy for his palette.
We all were talking to each other about random stuff, mostly it was Varun asking Jacques about his job and other stuff.
As we were enjoying the biryani, I felt a foot touch my leg. I instinctively pulled back my leg and continued eating thinking that it was accidental.
A moment later, I felt it again, this time brushing against my foot. I thought it was Varun who was doing it and looked at him and smiled knowingly.
He smiled back and continued eating and I felt strange. His smile was normal like he didn’t know anything. He was smiling because I smiled at him. Perhaps this was his way to keep Jacques unaware of the footie he was playing with me.
I decided to play along, knowing fully well that my husband had a habit of doing such things in public to tease me and make me uncomfortable. He knew it kind of embarrassed me and turned me on.
I felt the foot again, this time it slowly brushed against my foot, moving up to my ankle. My breath quickened as I felt it moving slowly on my ankle, gently tickling me. I looked at Varun who was silently eating the biryani.
I looked at him puzzled by his reaction. Usually, when he did something like this, he would smile at me slyly, enjoying the effect he was having on me but right now that sly smile was nowhere to be seen.
I also realised that the foot movement was funny. Varun was sitting to my left and his foot was brushing against my right foot which was facing away from him. From that distance, the angle of approach should have been different and that’s when I realised it.
I looked at Jacques who had a sly smile on his face as he ate his meal. His head was down but he was looking up at me with a smirk. The angle of the foot was just right and I knew it was him. I looked at him, feigning sternness in hopes it would stop him.
A while ago, he had kissed me. At that point, my husband wasn’t around but this time, Varun was sitting right next to us and I didn’t want to cause a scene.
That wasn’t enough for Jacques as he moved his foot upwards, brushing aside my salwar and brushing his foot against my shin bone. My breath had quickened and I hoped Varun didn’t notice it and continued eating, trying to stay composed and normal.
I felt his foot on my thigh and it startled me as I started to cough. Varun was taken aback at my sudden coughing and immediately offered me a glass of water, thinking it was the food. Little did he know it wasn’t the food down my windpipe but Jacques foot on my thigh that had made me cough.
When I started coughing, Jacques immediately withdrew his foot and acted surprised and worried. ‘Little bastard,’ I thought as he smiled at me when I stopped coughing. For the next few minutes, nothing happened and I thought Jacques was done with his funny business tonight but I was wrong.
I again felt his foot on my thigh and this time I didn’t react. He slowly moved his foot between my thighs and I unknowingly parted to allow his foot more access.
I felt his foot creeping up inch by inch towards my pussy and it was getting harder and harder to control myself. Jacques was smirking at me knowing full well that I was aroused, and yet, I couldn’t do anything about it. I was fighting a two fronted war; to control my arousal and keep my husband from realising what the foreigner was doing to me.
I gasped a little when Jacques hit the bullseye. Varun looked up at me and I lied and told him that I chewed on some chillies in the biryani. He simply nodded and continued eating. I felt Jacques’ toe rubbing along the length of my pussy.
Even though there were two layers of clothing separating his toe and my skin, it still sent a chill up my spine.
The most amusing and scary part of this, if I dare say, was that we were all talking to each other normally as if nothing unusual was happening. I felt goosebumps on my arms as Jacques’ toe found my clit and started wriggling on it.
It was getting difficult to put up this farce. I was barely eating, I was shivering occasionally and I was controlling a moan from erupting off my mouth.
I could feel the wetness in my panties and I knew I was close to cumming. I was afraid that if Jacques didn’t relent, I would end up moaning from the orgasm right in front of my husband.
Jacques started rubbing deeper and with each swipe of his toe along my pussy, the orgasm drew closer. I curled my toes as jolts after jolts of orgasmic pleasure surged through my body.
Just as I was about to give in, Varun stood up with his plate. Jacques stopped and we both looked at him. Had he realized what was happening? I was shit scared and when I looked at Jacques. I realised he was too but his foot was still resting against my pussy.
“I am done. The biryani was great, Rhea,” Varun said and walked inside the kitchen to keep the plate.
“What is wrong with you? Are you crazy?” I scowled at Jacques, pushing his foot away from me. He giggled and put his tongue out of his mouth tauntingly.
“Stop it,” I said to Jacques and he simply nodded. I got up and walked inside the kitchen and got busy with the cleaning.
Varun & Jacques sat in the living room watching TV and chatting for a while and I decided not to go out lest Jacques tries something again. This was enough for tonight.
“Rhea? Jacques is leaving. Could you come out please?” Varun called me.
I walked back into the living room and saw Jacques standing near the door which had been opened.
“Thank you for the tasty biryani,” Jacques said in his usual thick accent.
“The pleasure was all ours,” Varun said as he and Jacques shook hands.
“Yes, but there was some pleasure for me as well,” Jacques said, looking at me. Only he and I knew what that statement meant.
“Goodnight,” Jacques said before stepping out.
————
“Ummpfff. Ummm,” I moaned as I took in more of Varun’s cock inside my mouth. After Jacques was gone, I went back to cleaning but Varun had other plans. Since he was leaving the day after, he rushed into the kitchen, picked me up in his arms and walked to our bed to make the most of the little time he had with his wife.
It wasn’t long before we were naked on our bed. I was lying on the bed to my side. My upper body was raised by the support of my left forearm. My right hand was on Varun’s butt, caressing it and occasionally scratching and digging its nails into his hard flesh. His right arm was caressing my head and his left was fondling my boobs.
I lowered my head, slowly licking along his shaft before licking his balls. He groaned as I sucked on each of his marble. With my head tilted to its side, I looked at him from the corner of my eye.
He was watching me, his wife of eight years making love to him, pleasing him like she always did, with all her heart. I knew he missed me when he was on the ship and I missed him too and such nights were rewards to the patience we had shown over months of separation.
He brought his left hand over to my crotch and started caressing my pussy. My free-flowing juices coated his finger in no time making it slick and smooth for penetration. I gasped when he inserted his finger into my hole and rubbed its walls.
I closed my eyes, enjoying the jolts of pleasure surging through my body and as I felt his finger completely go inside me, a memory from the evening flashed in front of me.
I recalled how his Jacques’ thick toe rubbed against my pussy under the dining table. How he had gently brushed aside my hair and how he had gently kissed me.
I recalled the fragrance of his cologne as his body came close to mine. I also recalled how on the very dining table we were eating tonight; I and Jacques had almost broken all the boundaries just a few days ago.
I sucked on Varun’s cock harder and deeper, bobbing my head up and down his shaft vigorously, letting my saliva flow over it freely accompanied by loud slurping noises.
He started moaning as I started going into overdrive, his hand started matching the rhythmic movements and the pace of my head.
My mind kept flashing every little incident between me and Jacques over the course of days like a slideshow and with each passing memory, my sucking became more frantic.
I was completely immersed in his thoughts, completely forgetting the fact that I was sucking on Varun’s cock and not his but that very thought made me cum. I quivered and a then moment later, my pussy started convulsing from the orgasm. Seeing me writhe around in ecstasy, Varun immediately pulled out of my mouth.
“Wow, Rhea. That was amazing,” Varun said as he moved in between my legs. I just kept looking at him without a reaction or a comment.
I spread my legs letting him come between them. He raised my legs in his hands and guided his cock to the opening of my cunt. The wet, slick, freshly orgasmed pussy welcomed his cock and it went in completely in one stroke.
He let go of my legs and I locked them behind his back. He lowered himself over me, grabbed my shoulders from under my arms and started thrusting himself back and forth.
In just a few strokes, he started pounding into me harder and faster. I started moaning again as another orgasm started getting closer and as I closed my eyes in pleasure, my mind started playing its games again.
I visualised Jacques in place of my husband, even though I tried banishing these thoughts, trying to focus on my husband, I simply couldn’t. I could vividly smell the fragrance of his cologne which my mind had registered in the evening.
The thoughts started having their effects as I started cumming again. I bit into Varun’s shoulder as I shuddered from the orgasm. My tightened pussy, my orgasmic screams and the hard bite on his shoulder was enough to push Varun off the edge and he came in thick spurts in my pussy.
As we both recovered from our orgasms, we looked at each other and finally, Jacques’ thoughts were out of my mind. I could now clearly see and feel my husband.
I grabbed his face and pulled him in for a kiss and he enthusiastically responded. We spent the next several minutes in each other’s arms, kissing and occasionally he would lower his head to suck on my breasts.
His flaccid cock had slipped out of my pussy after the orgasm but now was showing signs of revival. As it got erect, Varun adjusted himself and started rubbing it against my pussy. I raised my legs and put my feet firmly on his butt as we started another round of our lovemaking.
