Anjali is a Bengali housewife, 45 years old. She is the mother of a son, aged 18 years. Anjali is fair complexioned, 5 feet 2 inches tall and has a figure of 36-32-36. She is extremely good looking. Her body is heavier on the lower part but her fleshy, fat buttocks made her more attractive.
Her husband leaves for work by eight and her son leaves for college by half past eight. She has a hectic morning, but later, after finishing her cooking, she has time to relax with books and magazines. Sometimes, talking with friends or relatives on phone also consumes some of her free time. Normally Anjali goes for bath by half past twelve. Bengali housewives usually take their bath quite late – only after they finish cooking, cleaning everything. Anjali looks at the watch. The watch was showing almost one o’clock ! It was high time that she goes for her bath. It was a Thursday and she was waiting for the dhobi. She has again and again told that fellow to come by twelve, but he can not be corrected. Anjali was getting more and more annoyed. How long can she wait? Maybe dhobi wouldn’t turn up only ! When it was one o’clock, Anjali decided not to wait for that fellow any more and went to the bathroom to take her bath.
Just when she drops her shaya (petticoat) and gets naked to start her bath, she heard a doorbell. How annoying ! Who would it be ? Is it dhobi ? No, he must not be that late ! Then ? Maybe some salesman – hell with them ! She is not going to dress up once more and open. But, the door bell was ringing again and again. The person on the other side must be getting impatient ! Then she realized it may be her neighbor’s maidservant. Her neighbor had kept the keys with her and asked her to hand it over to the maidservant. Anjali hurriedly wrapped her saree over her bare body, covered her bare breasts with dark brown aureoles with aanchal (pallu) and came out of the bathroom. She went with the keys, so that she could just open the door as a slit and hand over the keys to the maidservant. As she unlatched the door with a narrow opening, she was furious to find that dhobi fellow, showing a foolish smile.
“YOU !! Just get out from here ! I was waiting for you till one o’clock. Is it the time when one should come to a house ? Didn’t I tell you again and again to come on time ?”
The Bihari man didn’t argue, didn’t react. He just said with his foolish smile, “Aaj der ho giya !”
“Just go out ! I can’t open the door for you now. I even went in to take my bath…”
“Kapra rakh-ke chale jau? Baadme aake kapra le lenge”
Anjali had to let her in. What will that poor fellow do with that big heap of clothes on his head?
The fellow walked in and unloaded his bundle of clothes on the floor. He didn’t look at Anjali in her provocative dress of just a saree without undergarments. He was about to open the bundle, keep the washed clothes and about to leave, but Anjali asked her to wait “Dara ! Ami gune nichchhi !” (Wait! Let me count) Anjali is awfully bad in Hindi.
Once one of her friends told her a story. A Bengali housewife wanted to tell her dhobi, “Keep your washed clothes there, i’ll keep the ones for washing ready” and the translation she made was, “Tum tumhara kapra nikaal do, mai aapna kapra nikalti hu..” Later, when she realized what wrong meaning it might carry, she decided to speak Bengali only with dhobi.
Anjali walked to her room to bring her notebook. As she walked back, the dhobi looked her backside. He couldn’t believe that his madam didn’t have a blouse or a bra. Her back was completely bare, except for the part where the aanchal of her pink cotton saree crossed over her shoulder. As Anjali walked, her buttocks were rhythmically swinging and only then could the man feel the curves and outlines of her buttocks through the semi-transparent effect of her saree. Even her ass-cracks appeared like a crease on her saree. Her pair of bare legs were also prominent clearly under her saree. The man could make out that Anjali wasn’t even wearing her shaya and panty. In no time, the man felt that his manhood was getting erect more and more. He works for many housewives, some of them are much younger than Anjali, but none can match Anjali’s figure and matured looks. When he masturbates, most of the times he imagines Anjali. Ramji, the dhobi is not the only man who masturbates in dream of Anjali. The doodhwalla, for whom Anjali opens the door in the morning in her nightie also masturbates for her. Anjali’s younger sister’s son Deepu unloads his cum thinking of baromasi, whose place he regularly loves to visit. Even Anjali’s 18-year old son Anjan regularly releases tons of semen in imagination his lovely maa. Anjali comes back with a notebook, a pen and her reading glass. As she walks to the front, she modestly covers her boobs with aanchal. But just the saree had a semi-transparent effect. Ramji could make out the dark outlines of her aureoles and the protruding nipples. God ! Could the dhobi ever imagine that he would see his madam in such a provocative dress ?
Anjali could sense that the man was fixing his eyes on her breasts, but she didn’t bother. She had more responsible thing to do – checking the count. Suddenly she noticed that her left breast was partly uncovered – just up to her left nipple. Anjali was red in feelings of shame. She quickly adjusted her aanchal to protect her treasures once more. The count was alright! “kapra baad me aake le jaaun?” He asked.
“Tui esei jakhan porechhis, kapor niye ja” (Since you have come, you can take the clothes as well).
Anjali asked the dhobi to walk in to her bedroom and collect the soiled clothes kept below the aalna (cloth stand). Dhobi collected those, but even those counts had to be recorded. Anjali was sitting on the stool. She realized that in absence of shaya, she couldn’t create pleats of her saree and fold those in. All that she could manage to do was to make a knot below her navel and that knot loosened as she sat down comfortably. She quickly tried to re-make that knot but that made a mess. She had to stand up, unwrap the saree and make the knot once more. It gave Ramji the view that he dreamt of. Anjali had to expose everything – her pair of lovely boobs with dark aureoles, her thick hairy pussy with a slit ! Only for a few seconds though! Ramji walked away with another bundle on his head – the bundle of dirty clothes. Anjali closed the door and came back to the bathroom and looked herself at the mirror. Her face was red in shame. Her ears were radiating intense heat. God! She lost all her shame today ! But didn’t she also secretly enjoy the man’s erection that was creating a big bulge ? She must have ! Why else was her pussy so wet in excitement ?
The incident indeed triggered a great deal of erotic feelings in Anjali. For years, she was virtually sex-starved. It was her husband Amitabha, who had introduced her to the lovely world of sex twenty years back, just after her marriage. It was he, who had taken the most active role in love and sex for the first 15 years of their marriage, but a massive heart attack of Amitabha changed things altogether. Amitabha was advised against intercourse and extreme form of sexual excitements. It was painful for Amitabha to bear this situation. He could otherwise lead a normal life of a busy executive, but any major form of physical exertions that included intercourse was prohibited. Anjali tried her best so that Amitabha could get over that state of depression. Anjali even tried woman-on-top position to help her husband, but fear and sex cannot go together. It was this state of mind, along with heavy dose of anti-BP medicines that gradually developed the impotency in him. Anjali never expressed any complaints or frustrations to her husband, whom she loved intensely. But within her inner core, wasn’t she frustrated?
When desires are suppressed, it takes a different turn. Anjali was eager to satisfy her lust, but she also had a strong sense of morality. It was impossible for her to cheat her husband and develop coital relations with someone else. But when she thought of the incident involving dhobi, she realized that there was a teaser in her. A woman, who may not allow ultimate sex, but tease young men. As a woman, she was extremely shy, but as a teaser, she was daring enough to do anything – this may appear as a contradiction, but isn’t a woman’s mind full of contradictions? Don’t they say a a, when they want to say yes? Her reddish face indeed displayed her blush and at the same time, her wetness showed her lust, her unfulfilled appetite. That night, Anjali was burning with lust. How badly she wished that her husband could have satisfied all her wild desires but she was scared of even attempting any seduction, lest Amitabha ends up with the frustrations for non-performance.
When Anjali realized that Amitabha had gone into deep sleep, she slowly raised her nightie well above her knees. Slowly, she lifted its borders beyond her bushy hair and pushed her fingers well within the pussy slit and filled the air with a musky smell of her wetness. As she rubbed her inner vaginal wall in circles, it made her more and more wet and she heard a faint sound that her own contact was making with her pool of vaginal juices. She rubbed her clit, remembering the lusty looks she could see in Ramji’s eyes when he witnessed her saree’s re-wrapping. In sheer exuberance, Anjali lifted her nightie further, well beyond her boobs and ultimately removed it completely to make herself fully naked. She massaged her own boobs, which made her wild with the thoughts that it was her dhobi, who was pressing her love containers with all the force that he knew. After experiencing the pleasure and pain of her breasts’ squeeze, she inserted her index finger inside her cunt hole and pushed it further and further, up to the point it could travel. She imagined that Ramji was fucking her, as she moved her index finger in and out, in and out, in and out – as many times as she could do without getting tired, each time rubbing her clitoris and getting the climax. But, finger cannot replace a massive rock hard tool that her body wanted badly. And, the extent to which she could sense Ramji’s cock growing bears testimony to the fact that Ramji was gifted with a massive tool that can go rock hard with Anjali’s tease. Anjali slipped in her night gown once more after a prolonged session of self-pleasuring, but couldn’t snatch a sleep. She was feeling restless and sleepless. Her unfulfilled lust couldn’t allow her to sleep.
“Darling, anything wrong with you?” Amitabha asked her.
“No darling-“ she replied.
“You are not getting a sleep”, Amitabha noted.
“Don’t worry. I’ll get it. You sleep. You are tired after a day’s hectic work.”
“I know your problems, Anjali” he said.
“What ?” She asked.
“You are a woman without active sex life for past one year” Amitabha answered, with a sad feeling.
“It’s okay. Maybe, later when your heart condition improves, we can start. What you say?” She tried to console her husband.
“I wish it is. I wish I could fuck you wildly once more.” Amitabha said with a lusty smile.
“You will, darling.” Anjali assured.
Amitabha leaned towards Anjali. Their lips met. Amitabha’s lust was building up, as he passionately kissed every part of Anjali’s lips. Amitabha rolled over Anjali’s body and squeezed her breasts. Anjali moaned in pleasure and tightly embraced Amitabha. Amitabha’s erect cock that made a tent out of his pajama was resting against the softness of his wife’s womanhood, that was so much familiar once upon a time, but for past one year, he was forced to maintain so much of distance from it.
“Now?” He asked.
“Have patience darling – maybe till you can bear the thrusts of penetration, let someone else does it for you” she suggested.
“Wow ! Brilliant idea! But, who is going to be that lucky man.” Amitabha asked.
“Hmmm…that’s the point. But, if I have your permission, let me find it out.” Anjali commented with a naughty smile.
“Beautiful! You have my permission.” Amitabha said.
“Serious?” She enquired.
“Yes, serious.” He said. Then he said softly, “It would be wrong, if I don’t give you my permission.”
Anjali looked at her husband’s eyes. Can she believe what he said? Mail me comments .
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