Kumar jumped out of his car after in a hurry towards his unrequited love. He walked briskly across the parking lot. Without taking a moment to look, crossed the normally busy road without care. He maintained a poker face but kept his head down, praying that he would be left unmolested by the time he reached his flat.
He had also refused to join his co-workers for a couple of drinks, despite it being a Friday. His mind was only focused on one thing. Did he make it in time?
He reached the front door and then rang the bell. He waited for a while until it was clear that no one was going to open the door. He sighed and opened his bag to search for his keys.
Then, he heard the familiar shuffle of footsteps. He stopped, straightened his collar, and put on his best “I am tired” face. He heard a sweet voice repeat over and over, “I am coming.”
BAM. The door exploded from its hinges with unnecessary force. It revealed a haggard woman, face slick with sweat and exertion, somewhere between the age of 28 to 36. Despite his best attempts at maintaining a grumpy, tired face, Kumar would always cheer up when he saw that smiling face.
That cocktail smell of sweat, detergent, and shampoo sent his head into a tailspin. When she took his bag, and his hands brushed up against her rough hands, he could feel all his body shiver.
“Welcome back, Kumar-ji!” she said.
“Thank you, Mamta.”
Yes, Kumar was in love with his maid.
“Is Shruti home?” he asked absentmindedly. “No, Madam left for the evening. She said she was going to her mother’s place.” Mamta continued after that, but Kumar did not stop her.
He loved hearing her talk. He would drink in all her mannerisms as she prattled on. Like how she would tuck a strand of hair behind her ear (but only the left one). Or how she would scratch the little mole in her long neck. Or how her nose would flare out when she was excited or angry.
Kumar never figured out when his one-sided infatuation towards his maid started. Was it when his marriage started to fall apart due to problems with his wife’s brother?
Or when teaching lost its luster and purpose that Kumar was sure he would never lose? Or was it when he was exposed to the hardened optimism of Mamta, something that could only be cultured with hardship?
Well, it did not matter to Kumar. He stared at his maid work with his back turned to him. Her simple clothes did nothing to hide her ample curves, stockpiled through the ages.
Despite her best attempts at neglecting it, her face still shone with a beauty that one can only be a gift by nature. There was a simplicity to her beauty that Kumar appreciated, honesty that he adored, and care that he loved.
When she turned around, she frowned, “Why are you smiling?”
“I am?” Kumar asked.
She returned his smile with a radiant one. “Here’s your tea,” she handed him a cup.
“Just one cup?”
“Unlike Kumar-ji, I still have a lot of work to complete, so I can’t sit around drinking tea,” she said.
“Come on. You must be tired. I see it in your face. It’s just one cup,” he pleaded. He knew she never refused a cup of tea. She placed her hands on her hips. (Oh, how he loved when she did that!) Her face scrunched up in concentration.
“Fine,” she said exasperatedly. He watched her return sheepishly with a steaming cup of tea, already prepared. Kumar just smiled.
“What? I knew you would ask me to have tea with you. So I just made extra,” she said with feigned annoyance.
“Did you want me to ask you to sit down and have tea with me?” Kumar said mischievously.
Mamta blushed and looked away. Kumar reached out and gently touched her hands. She looked back at him warmly before pulling away from his touch. Then, after taking a deep breath, she said, “Did you hear about….”
Kumar and Mamta got lost in the labyrinths of gossip and murmurs for hours. Their teacups were empty hours ago. Kumar was always amazed at Mamta’s ability to keep track of multiple storylines of her and his neighbors, diving in and out of different stories, secrets, and affairs, weaving a tapestry of the city’s resident’s messy lives.
One minute, they talked about how the barber’s teenage son was caught smoking with one of his students (a bright problem-child). Then switch to talking of Mrs. Sharma’s latest investment misadventures. Then how the sand mafia was planning to burn down the Blue Mall to commit insurance fraud.
“Certainly, that’s not true,” Kumar exclaimed in shock. “It is! I heard the butcher’s wife talking about it.”
“But, how would she know?”
“Well, you see,” she said excitedly, “Her husband used to be friends with…”
She paused for that extra bit of Mamta flair, “Chota don!”
“No. No way. He was caught years ago. I think I was in college when that happened,” Kumar said.
“Another thing about the butcher’s wife,” she said. She leaned a little towards him. Kumar caught a glimpse of her cleavage. He leaned in closer. She shot two glances to her left and her right, even though they were alone in that room.
“She is having an affair with Mr. Pandey,” she whispered. Kumar looked at her wide-eyed.
“I think what you told me about the mafia. You should have been whispering that,” Kumar said.
“It’s scandalous,” Mamta said, blushing again. However, this time it was Kumar who looked away.
“They always looked happy together. I mean, at least compared to…” Us, he thought to himself, unable to say the words out loud.
“Kumar-ji, I am sorry…” Kumar raised his hand to cut her apology short.
“It’s not your fault,” he said, his hoarse voice surprising him. Mamta squirmed in her seat in obvious discomfort. She collected the empty cups and got up. “I should go now,” she said quietly.
“No, wait.” Kumar got up. He reached out to Mamta. She turned around, hesitant. He hugged her.
“Kumar-ji, we can’t.”
“Please. Just for a while, let me feel….” The words died in his throat as he pulled her closer, his hug tighter. Can she tell how fast my heart is beating? He wondered to himself. Can she understand everything my heart is telling her? Excitement. Shame. Loneliness. Pain.
“Please,” he found himself pleading again. “Please, don’t leave me alone tonight.” He looked down at her, staring into her beautiful eyes. He kissed her.
It was a short kiss, a shallow one, yet, a kiss had never tasted sweeter. The faint bitterness of the tea they just had, swirled inside his mouth. But it was far weaker compared to the ecstasy he felt. He had done it. He finally kissed her.
When they stopped, he met her gaze. He could see a hint of hesitation swim in her eyes. Yet, she said nothing. Kumar lifted her head and kissed her again. As she melted in his arms, their tongues danced and wrestled inside. His hands reached out for her breasts, and through her clothes, groped them.
He heard a quiet moan as he kissed her neck, taking in deep breaths to smell her hair. With great care, his hands slid down, slipping inside her pants. Gently, he caressed her womanhood, enjoying her moans and gasps that grew louder and louder.
Mamta pushed him away. “Kumar-ji, we can’t. We are both married.”
“Broken marriages,” Kumar said forcefully, “we are tied to partners that don’t even love us anymore. Shouldn’t we be allowed to be happy too?”
“Kumar-ji, will this make you happy?”
“Every second I spend with you makes me happy,” Kumar whispered in her ears. He gently cupped her face and stared into her eyes. “I won’t force you to do anything that you don’t want to,” Kumar said.
“You say that after you’ve kissed me?”
“I…I mean…”Kumar stammered hesitantly. Kumar had essentially forced himself on her, consumed by his desire. Kumar tried to force out an apology but found it hard to speak when that lovely pouting face, cute as a button, broke out in giggling.
“Masterji! Do you think I will let you go after kissing me like that? After lighting my fire!” she said cheerfully. “Shouldn’t we be allowed to be happy too?” she teased him and then leaped up into his arms to kiss him.
Now, it was her turn. It was not hard for her hands to find and wrap her fingers around the throbbing pillar of heat and flesh pressing against her. With care, she freed his engorged manhood from their restraints.
As they kissed, she stroked his cock with her rough hands and felt it grow hotter and bigger, as if it was feeding off of her warmth. She could feel Kumar’s heart beating faster, and his hot breath grew heavier.
As a faint moan escaped Kumar’s lips, she squatted down and took his penis inside her mouth. Kumar had never felt anything like this before. “Wow, I never imagined you knew something …vulgar,” Kumar gasped out between moans.
Mamta raised her eyebrows. “A married woman should know a few tricks,” she said seductively before licking his shaft.
Kumar knew he couldn’t last long. He felt the pressure, the impulse build-up inside of him, multiplied with each wet kiss, each stroke, each lick. Yet, he tried to hold on, using all his willpower to keep it at bay.
Mamta only increased her intensity. Her grip on his penis tightened, her head moved up and down his penis at terrifying yet exhilarating speed.
“Mamta, I am…” His semen burst through and into Mamta’s mouth, the thick ropey seed forcing its way down her throat. Kumar himself felt all energy leave his legs as he struggled to keep up with this unprecedented overload of euphoria. He had never cum the way he had right now.
Tiny tremors and shivers raced up and down his body as Mamta swallowed his load, staring up at him with wide eyes, like a cat in heat. She took her time, shaking her hips as she stood up, maintaining eye contact with Kumar, teasing out everything from him. She licked her lips and took Kumar’s hand in hers.
“We are not going to stop here, are we?” Mamta whispered into his ears.
Kumar shook his head. Mamta shot a sly smile. Then, she led them both towards the bedroom. They had barely closed the bedroom door before they started tearing clothes off each other – clothing lying discarded on the floor as the two lovers jumped on the bed.
Kumar showered Mamta’s curvy body with kisses. He slowly made his way down her body, tasting each part of her until he reached her womanhood. Kumar kissed her inner thigh, caressing the lips of her pussy. He used his finger to press on her clitoris, taking great pride in his ability to make her moan.
He took his time, playing around with her, teasing her, before he inserted his fingers inside. He continued his assault, trying to find that sweet spot, his fingers relentless in their pursuit. It only made Mamta moan louder and more frequently.
“Master?”
“Yes.”
“Could you use your tongue?”
Kumar smiled. He knelt. First, he kissed her inner thigh as his fingers slid inside and out. Then, he kissed her clitoris. Then only he forced his tongue inside. Kumar ate Mamta out with fury and intensity, using everything he had done, seen, and heard about.
‘I would do anything to make her happy,’ he thought to himself, ‘God, what a dangerous feeling.’
“Yes! Just like that!” she yelled out as Mamta forced Kumar even deeper inside. Each lick, each touch sent shockwaves of pleasure, shooting up her spine, rocking her brain every time. It built up, bouncing back getting stronger as Kumar continued his verbal attack.
“Oh my…I am…”
Her words were cut short as her back arched back to an impossible angle, and her eyes rolled back. Pleasure. It was a pleasure like she had never felt before. Everything she had experienced before was dwarfed by this orgasm.
It was a storm, a hurricane that blew away all of her sensibilities, all her doubts, and replaced them with one thing. Lust. She only needed one thing. It was Kumar, her employer, her married employer. Yet, she could not stop herself from spreading her legs. She looked at Kumar.
“Masterji! I want you inside me! I want you to ravage me!” Kumar stepped forward, his painfully erect penis twitching in anticipation. Like a beast, he fell upon her. It took every ounce of willpower not to cum immediately, but Kumar held on.
He wanted to see Mamta cum again, her quivering flesh, that deranged look on her face. His movements intensified as imagination ran wild in his mind. Just seeing her naked, moaning, gasping for air pleased him immensely. His grip on her breasts tightened as he sucked on her nipples.
Without missing a beat, she nibbled on his ears. Kumar shifted his focus to her long gorgeous neck. They exchanged a sloppy kiss one more time before changing positions. After a brief respite, Kumar was back at it again, pounding her deep while they shuffled around.
He watched, transfixed as ripples traveled through her massive yet dreamily soft butt. His hands continued their attack on her breasts, teasing her nipples, as he leaned in, burying his face into her hair, kissing her neck, and whispering sweet nothings into her ears.
“Mamta, I want you by my side forever,” Kumar found himself saying.
“Of course, Kumar-ji.”
“No, no more ‘ji’ business. Call me by my name, like you would your lover!”
“Kumar, I want you to cum deep inside me. I want you to make me yours! I want you to forget all about your wife and only think of me!”
“Yes!” Kumar’s movements intensified, his mind focused on one thing and one thing only, to make Mamta his.
“Mamta, I love you! I love you so much!”
“Yes! I love you too!”
Kumar turned Mamta around and kissed her. He continued until he could hold on no longer. An unstoppable torrent of ecstasy flooded Kumar’s mind as his penis exploded inside of Mamta’s quivering, tightening pussy.
The near-apocalyptic deluge of pleasure washed away all of his frustrations, his pent-up anger towards his domestic life. As he stared into Mamta’s eyes, a strange feeling of content welled up from inside. He had found his answer, his anchor, his love, and there was no room for his wife here. It was his style=”color: #3366ff;” href=”https://www.indiansexstories2.net/maid-servant/unusual-love-story-maid-simran/”>unusual feeling for his maid, Mamta.
Kumar and Mamta kissed each other as they collapsed with exhaustion.
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