Dear Readers,
Sorry for the delay and thank you for your patience. Here 
is the part-4 of the story for you. 
Please write to : nanditadd@rediffmail.com for all comments.

I sincerely thank the asstr administrators for providing me with an
author's ftp-site. Please see authors' ftp for all my previous postings.

WARNING : The story may contain some explicit sexual descriptions.
Please do not proceed beyond this warning if you are not
matured or under 18 years of age. Also, do not proceed if you are
offended by the theme or any of the contents herein.

Nandita

----------------Manly massage: Part-4 ----------------------------------------
It was too early in the morning for me to start the day. Bachchu had already
got up and I told him not to hurry up with morning tea and breakfast preparation,
as I wanted to get some more sleep, although I was pretty sure that I wouldn't 
get any more sleep.All that I needed was a bit of privacy to think with a cool 
head what I was upto. I came back to my bedroom, closed the door and lay down 
on the bed.

The first question that struck me was whether Raja was serious about
what he told me last night. I felt that he was kidding and in reality it's
not possible for a husband to grant a blanket permission to his wife for
having sex with the domestic boyservant !!! Our conversation took place in a
light and joking mood and I could not tell Raja about how Bachchu massaged
my breasts. So, there was every reason for Raja to believe that it was just a 
casual dirty conversation of ours and there was no seriousness hidden in it. 
But I knew that my body was on fire and  was I mischievously thinking of misusing 
my husband's absence for a misadventure with my servant ? The moment I thought this, 
I could sense an increase in my pulse rate and throbbing of heart. I was restless 
to get back my sex life and all that I needed first was just a man who would be able 
to overpower my pain with lust. I was getting horny again. My fingers were touching
my cunt and I was wet in no time. Immediately, I thought of the barriers between our
ages and more so, in our social status. What would people think of me, if ever
a misdeed of this nature is known to others ? I tried to impose the social norms
and taboos upon me. So I must do something to overcome  these dirty thoughts.

I thought of an easy option. My parents are staying in the other end of the city
and what I can easily do is to grant three days' leave to Bachchu, so that he 
could visit his native place and I can stay with my parents. When I had almost
decided about this, I felt sorry that I would miss my massage. Even if I keep aside the
erotic components in it, surely I enjoyed the massage, which Bachchu had given
to me. Then ? Am I going to stay here ? Am I going to have the massage sessions with
Bachchu ? Like yesterday ? Should I put that as the limit ? Or... ? Again, again I was 
losing control. Why should I be so afraid of the society ? 

My daydreaming, fantasies and tensions got abruptly halted when there was a knock at
my bedroom door. "Masima, won't you have your breakfast now ?", Bachchu came and
asked. I looked at the watch. Surely, it was time to take something. "Yes, just two 
pieces of toast with butter and tea", I said. 

After brushing my teeth, I came to the breakfast table. Bachchu had kept everything
ready. I tried to concentrate on my eating. But, from my sixth sense, which is normally
very strong with the ladies, I knew that he was looking at me. That look was no doubt
different from how he used to look at me before yesterday's happenings. He was looking
at my shoulders and also at my breasts, where he massaged so passionately yesterday. Out 
of a sheer feminine instinct, I re-adjusted my saree's protection above my blouse, but
honestly speaking, wasn't I mischievously enjoying his stare ? Bachchu turned on the
ceiling fan, as I was visibly sweating, apparently because of the sultry weather and
the sips from steaming hot tea, but definitely, the heat of passion within my body
had a lot of contributions to it.

Bachchu didn't have much of work in the morning. My husband was away and I had to use
up the accumulated foodstuff in the refrigerator. Rather than cooking new items, I instructed 
him to clean the kitchen thoroughly. I too joined hands with him, so that everything could
be properly organised according the housewife's likings and also to hasten the process, so
that could start my massage early. I felt restless. I wanted him to start the massage as early
as he could, although I had to pretend that I was the lady of the house and I mean business first. 

We were in the middle of the cleaning process, when the doorbell rang. It was Aparna-di,
one of our elderly neighbours. She is a very nice lady and I too like her. Her only problem,
if any, is her talkative habit. Whenever I have anything important to do and she visits
my house, I  always wish that she shouldn't start some long stories and would rather leave
early enough. But, if she is in the right kind of mood, you can't stop him and it would
look rather discourteous and awkward to get up, mind your own business and ignore her. At least,
I can never do that and I have to remain as a passive listener, whether I like it or not.

"Ohhh, .... Raja has gone on tour and  are you alone now ?" I could make out from her enthusiasm
that she felt I had all the time in the world to listen to her long long stories.
"Okay, why don't you come over to my house and let's have our lunch there ....",
she invited me. " And also endless chat ?", I wanted to add, but of course, I didn't. No, I was
surely not prepared to spend the rest of the morning and afternoon with Aparna-di.
"Not today, Aparna-di ! I have just started clearing the mess from my kitchen. It's a huge
task. And Bachchu alone won't be able to do it."
"Okay, I understand. Maybe tomorrow or the day after", she said. I wished she forgets about it.
She talks so much that she even forgets what she says. I wanted to cash on this advantage.
"You know, I was eager to tell you something ,....."she started. "Oh, no, don't
tell me" would have been my spontaneous response, but I had to keep quiet and be a passive
listener, for the sake of courtesey and neighbourly relations. I tried to devote attention to
what she said, but all the time, erotic massage was going on in my mind. I was looking at the 
kitchen, where Bachchu was busy arranging things. What a strong young man he is ! Effortlessly 
he could shift heavy things. I like strong men, I want them to be very strong, so strong that 
I can feel the sensation of pain when a man squeezes my breasts or enters me !!! Yes, again 
I was thinking about Bachchu and feeling the heat between my legs and in my whole body. 
Occasionally, I was nodding my head and uttering "Hmmmm .......", just to pretend that I was
listening to Aparnadi's  boaring stuff. 

"Tell me, doesn't it look bad ?" she asked me at one stage. Believe me, I didn't pay any attention to 
what she was talking about and what was it that she was trying to say "bad". It was foolish for
me to express any opinion, but I had to. All that I could make out was that she only wanted my approval.
So, I said, "yes, yes, it surely looks bad" and I was amazed by my own stupidity.
"I knew you will also feel that way, but just see, (----blah-----blah------)". So, at least,
I could successfully hide my unmindfulness and felt a bit relieved. 

In the meantime, the clock advanced beyond twelve and Bachchu had finished whatever he was
told to do in the kitchen. I felt that it was high time that I get my massage.
"Let me see how you arranged " I told Bachchu and went with him to the kitchen, clearly
signalling Aparna-di that I wanted her to leave. I don't know whether it was because
of this discourteous act of mine, or because, she herself got tired of nonstop talking that 
she said, "Okay, Nandita, do your work. I am going now. Just drop in to my house,
any time". "Sure, Aparna-di, I will. Bye", I said with full of courtesey and politeness.

Bachchu was ready with the oil. Like me, he too must have wanted Aparna-di to leave. 
"Do we start ?" he asked in short. His voice wasn't normal. He must be expecting to give
me a massage like yesterday and feeling horny. He was visibly tense and I was tempted to
look at his pyjama. His cock had formed a tent there and I could find a spot of
wetness in that region. I was losing control. My hands were eager to touch the strong manhood of
this strong young man. But, I am the lady of the house and he is my servant.I must not
give him a feeling that I am in urgent need of a sex. At the same time, I wanted my lust
to flourish under the disguise of massage.

Bachchu sat behind me. Maybe, he was much closer to me than the way he did on the previous day. He again
started with my hair, then my face, shoulders, arms and back. It was wonderful ! 
It was the best type of feeling I ever had. I felt I belonged to a new world of pleasure.  
I completely surrendered myself to him as he took charge of me. He removed my earrings, 
my mangal sutra, my bangles, my blouse and my bras - one after the other without any uneasiness 
that was present on the previous day.

When his hands at last rested on my eager breasts and was pressing my hard erect nipples, I moaned loudly,
expressing my passion, as he built up his strengths more and more. He started squeezing my 
breasts, moving both his palms all over them to make them slippery with oil.Should I give him 
a glance of what he has done to my breasts.The moment this thought came to my mind, I felt my 
whole body getting baked in the heat of passion. No, not now, I thought.

When he finished massaging my top half, I was so deeply engrossed in pleasure that it was difficult
for me to leave it at that stage. I wanted more of it. Yes, in the lower part of my body. Yes,
I wanted it, rather I was dying for it. And, I had to say at last, "Bachchu, it's wonderful. I can't
stop here. Wouldn't you do it more today ?" I almost begged with lust. Now, I turned to him. 
My breasts were exposed. He was too excited and speechless. Maybe, he never dreamt of this
situation in a lady-boyservant relationship. Nor did I, but it was. At that moment, I was ready
to gift my body to him. I looked at his tent. It was steadily going up and up. The region in his
pyjama was getting more and more soaked with increased pumping of his juice. It's a human body.
Our mind may understand taboos, morality, inhibitions and other forbidden aspects, but body doesn't. 
When a river is desparate to break its embankments, you can't stop it. And in moments, when the lust
is too strong, your mind won't listen to you. The desparate river will wash away the dams that you may
like to construct. 

I wanted to touch his throbbing cock. But immediately felt that at least he must complete the message 
before anything gets out of control. 

There was a small divan in our living room. Bachchu asked me to lie down on my stomach. My saree was 
almost unwrapped. I took out the folds of my saree underneath the petticoat and removed it completely
before lying down on the divan. My petticoat was the only garment that covered the lower part of my
body and I didn't wear any panties, while I am at home. After I lay down on my stomach, Bachchu had
to start his next part of the job. 

"Masima, eta ki thakbe ?"(Madam, will it be there on your body ?) he asked with a clumsy voice,
pointing to my petticoat. My sexual tensions were at its peak, but still I hesitated for a moment
to directly answer. Certainly, Bachchu was not courageous enough to remove my last piece of garment
without my verbal consent. I was  silent. My cunt was quivering and I felt that all my juices
would now burst out of it. I desparately wanted my petticoat out of my body. Still I was silent.
What was holding me up ? Social norms, taboo, age difference ? Perhaps everything and perhaps nothing.
Bachchu started massaging lower part of my waist, while the petticoat was still on.

"Na khul le ki kore korbi ?"(How will you do it unless it is removed ?) I tried  to keep my voice
steady, but it obviously betrayed, as the fire within me was on. Bachchu's fingers reached the knot of the
petticoat string. I helped him to unfasten it and the rest was done by him. He pulled my petticoat
down and down further, below my buttocks, thighs, legs and toes. He took out the ornament from my legs.
I was completely naked, there wasn't even a piece of thread attached to my body, it was the body
that God had gifted to me, with nothing more added to it.


----------------------------------------------End of Part-4 -------------------------------------
                      (Part-5 will  follow within the next 10 days. I promise. )  