Both of Them

Earlier (Part 1)

: Hans, a fresh graduate from the IESE Business School in Barcelona, Spain was now a young recruit at an European multinational firm with an assignment in a small Asian town; little more than an overgrown village. For eight months, he had endured the rigours of his posting and the continuous efforts of his veiled provocative attempts at seducing a 45-year old housemaid. Finally, the social and language barriers between them had succumbed to the libidinous desires that both had surreptitiously harboured towards each other. The 24-hour tryst with the raw, rustic, voluptuous and hirsute maid had brought him to the pinnacle of hedonistic and decadent carnality. And for her, Matty (real name Maitri), years of dormant sensuality and lust had erupted into a climactic apogee of sexual release.

Previously (Part 2)

: Hans' regular maid, Maitri, had been unable to come for work one extended weekend and had sent her young well-educated daughter instead. That was the first time Hans met Rupali (also called Rupa) but their relationship had blossomed from strangers to lovers in the short span of 12 hours. It was also the first time that she'd had sex with a man, her previous sexual experiences having been either with a girlfriend or playing with herself. He had found her unbelievably attractive; she had the most beautifully exquisite looking face he had ever seen and a curvaceous body that was buxom and lithe. They had spent 48 hours together, drinking and making love for most of that time.

Now (Part 3)

: It was just two days before Christmas and Hans was nearing the end of his tenure in this sleepy one-horse town where he had been assigned to for the last 12 months. By year-end he would be gone; first for a well deserved holiday back in Paris with his parents and friends, and then return to this country but to the capital city where his company's regional headquarters was located.

For eight months he had lived like an abstemious monk with no women for sexual company. And then one day, the social and language barriers between him and his maid (whom he called Matty) disappeared in a haze of unadulterated carnality as they both found release for their pent-up desire for each other. Since that momentous day, they had unfettered sex almost every weekend. Their lovemaking was limited to Saturdays and Sundays only because he was always at work when she came during the week. The only time they missed out on their regular liaisons was when Maitri had to go out of town or was otherwise unable to come and do her chores.

It was on one such occasion, when she went to another town to visit her uncle, that she sent her college-going daughter, Rupali, to fill in for her. The chemistry between Hans and Rupa was instantaneous, and he had to fight the moral demons in his head when his thoughts began to take on salacious overtones. The dishonourableness of having sex with both mother and daughter had tortured him initially, but the lust and the passion that fired up between Rupa and him were too seductive to resist. And even though the apparent disloyalty plagued him for weeks afterwards, he justified it by telling himself that there had been no promises of exclusivity between any of them.

Rupa and her younger sister lived with their mother in a two-room hovel on the edge of a shantytown about three kilometres away from Hans' apartment. His company paid her well for looking after the apartment they had rented and frequently used as a guest house for visitors from the capital or other offices of theirs. That day, about three and a half months ago, when Maitri returned from visiting her uncle, she thought she noticed a change in her elder daughter's demeanour. She couldn't put a finger on it but felt something of consequence had happened to Rupa during her absence.

"So, you met Hansa? What did you think of him?" mother asked daughter, trying to finagle out some information.

"Yes, I met him Mama. Nice person. Very polite," she said, avoiding her mother's probing gaze. Then, after a while, she said "I can go next weekend as well if you're going to be busy. No problem!"

Maitri looked quizzically at Rupali and said "No. You should be studying for your mid-term examinations; not doing stupid housemaid chores." College was going to open in another few days and the tests were scheduled for the first week itself. Maitri had invested much of her life bringing up the two girls after her husband left; she had ensured that they got a decent education and now the elder daughter would soon graduate, probably with flying colours. She wanted her to do well in life, forge a career for herself and not push her into a marriage too early. She wanted everything for her children that she never had for herself.

But Rupali was desperate to meet Hans again, or at least see him. She had hoped to be able to plot some way of doing so but it was beginning to seem impossible as the days wore on. Her mother went every day, seven days a week, and she herself soon began her daily trips to the college which was in a neighbouring town. She got up at 5 o'clock every morning, took a long bus ride to attend her classes, and came home exhausted at 6:00 pm every evening. On weekends, she studied at home while Mama went to clean and cook for Hans.

On more than one occasion, Rupa had hinted to her mother that she could go and do Hans' household chores but tried not to sound too needy or despairing lest Mama get suspicious. But Maitri already suspected. She wasn't jealous or anything; there was nothing proprietary about her sexual trysts with Hans. And she knew that Rupa would one day soon leave home to start a career and then she would be beyond any kind of maternal control; she would likely meet a boy she wanted to have sex with and there would be nothing that Maitri would be able to do. But for now, she ensured that Rupa devoted her time to her studies instead of romping around with men.

One day, mid-week, Hans was returning from a project site he had visited. He was roaring down on his 300 cc BMW G310R motorcycle on the same highway that connected his township to the neighbouring one where Rupali went to college. Traffic was light on the relatively narrow two-lane expressway but as he approached the turn-off for his municipality, he had to slow down and stop behind an inter-city bus. As he waited patiently for passengers to disembark, he spotted a woman in a shirt and skirt and knew instinctively that it was Rupa. She had a shawl wrapped around her and a large shoulder bag under it.

It was almost two months after they had last met; the monsoon season had long given way to the start of winter and the day temperatures had dropped to the high teens. The evenings and nights were considerably colder. While the bus started moving, he put his bike in gear and rolled it forward, took the turning and stopped about 20 metres beyond Rupa. As he saw her approach in his rear-view side mirror, he removed his crash helmet so that she'd be able to recognise him. Not wanting to make eye contact with strangers, she walked past him till he said "Why are you ignoring me, young lady?"

Rupa immediately recognised Hans' voice and swivelled around, almost screaming "Bhaiya!!!" Then she brought her hand to her mouth and looked around surreptitiously, hoping no one had heard or seen her. "Bhaiya" was a respectable term for a brother and was used quite commonly in these parts.

"C'mon, I'll give you a lift home," he said.

She didn't wait for a second invitation; despite wearing a skirt, she straddled the bike and nestled close against him as they began the ride over severely pot-holed lanes. He was wearing a biker's leather jacket and she managed to find a way to snuggle her hands inside it. Hans risked taking one hand off the handlebar and reached behind him to caress her bare left shin; the skirt had ridden up to her knees and she would feel the cold against her limbs. But despite wanting to feel her up, he needed both hands to manoeuvre the heavy machine around the ditches in the tarmac.

Over the next ten minutes, he would skirt the shantytown where Matty lived with her daughters and then go all around the pasture to the other side where his house was located. Neither of them spoke but each one knew they wanted to go directly to Hans' apartment. She would be late getting back to her house and although her mother wouldn't be overly concerned, Rupa knew that she would be questioned. She'd just have to lie and say she'd had a late class in college; that did happen every once in a while.

Hans parked his motorcycle in the shed where he normally kept it at night, and pulled the rolling shutter down. They went up the stairs in a hurry, barely managing to keep their hands off each other. He unlocked and pushed open the door, placed his helmet on a low side table and turned around to take Rupa in his arms. Still wearing their shoes, they wrapped their arms around one another as their mouths met in a heated kiss of passion. Their lips pressed each other's, tongues flailing in a liquid dance.

His hands went to her breasts and he took the huge mammaries in his palms, squeezing and massaging them through her shirt as they moulded under the pressure. Her hands went around his waist and slipped to his buttocks, pulling him tight against her own body. Feverishly, they tried to undress one another; Hans hastily unbuttoning the front of her shirt while she sought out the zipper of his jeans. They hadn't even bothered to close the entry door to his flat.

He parted the placket of her shirt and separated the two sides, exposing her bra-encased boobs while she fumbled with the buckle of his belt. Hans tore the shirt off her shoulders, pulling down the unbuttoned sleeves and dropping the garment on to the floor. She managed to undo his belt, unbutton the single stud, and unzip the fastener of his Levi's before pushing them down his thighs. He reached behind her and unsnapped the hooks of her bra before tearing the undergarment off her shoulders.

He frantically pawed her heavy breasts, bending his head to take a nipple into his mouth as he pushed her back against the door that he had managed to kick shut. Rupa pushed her hand inside his briefs and extracted his huge eight-inch cock that was thick and erect already. Pushing down his undies with her other hand, she cupped his testicles while tugging at his manhood.

With his mouth sucking manically at her full-bosomed tits, he grabbed the sides of her long skirt and pulled it up to her waist where he held it in place by wrapping an arm around her. His other hand went into the elastic band of her panties, his fingers ploughing through the dense undergrowth of her pubic hair. He found the soaking wet gash between her labia and skated his fingers between the opening, touching her protruding clitoris with each stroke.

"I want you inside me, Bhaiya!" she croaked, desperate to feel his massive cock rip through her cunt. Neither of them had any rational thought in their brains; they were flying on a high-octane rush of adrenaline that inflamed their senses in a basic, primal, animalistic surge of passion. It had been eight weeks since their first, and last, meeting when she had to overcome a lot of fear and trepidation before finally mustering the courage and confidence to have him penetrate her with his colossally thick and long phallus. But none of that angst was present at this moment as she drew his cock forward and pressed her groin against the fiery red tip.

Without bothering to strip her of her panties, Hans put his fingers into the crotch and pulled the soft cotton gusset aside. Holding his rigid penis with the other hand, he bent his knees and positioned the penis glans between her inner pussy lips. She felt her juices frizzle over the scorching tip of his cock as he eased it into her cunt. Her hands locked behind his neck as she felt the rod begin its slow penetration of her vagina, stretching the entrance as it burrowed past.

Hans had brought his hands to her deliciously smooth buttocks, fingers clenched on her rump as he pushed himself into her. Her skirt fell over his hands at the back but rested on the penile bridge between his groin and her genitals in front. He was gentle as he pushed himself slowly into her but once his cock head reached her cervix and she relaxed her vaginal muscles, he began a rhythmic thrusting.

Rupali moaned loudly, gasping for breath as he penetrated her to the hilt. But then she began to move, lunging against him, wanting to feel his piston-like hammering. Their pace increased in no time and the slow initial embedding of his cock soon gave way to a more frenetic tempo. He groaned, she moaned, and they were caught up in a fiery gyration that set off sparks deep inside them. He pummelled her unceasingly for almost five minutes during which Rupa clawed at his shoulder muscles and neck, leaving deep scratches on his skin. Although pinned against the door, her hips still moved in every direction while Hans jabbed and pierced her dripping cunt with an uncanny ferocity.

He bellowed loudly when he came, violent spasms accompanied the jets of semen that shot out of his cock and flooded her insides. It took almost ten seconds of rapid-fire thrusts before Hans was drained of his thick warm semen. Rupa hadn't cum but she had needed this raw unscripted coitus, and now wallowed in the euphoric sense of fullness that his tumescence and his ejaculate filled her with. She hung on to his neck as his breathing gradually returned to normal. They didn't speak, both wordlessly acknowledging how much they had yearned for one another over the last eight weeks.

After their three days together on the previous occasion, this certainly qualified as a quickie but they were both elated. Rupa put on her brassiere and shirt while Hans pulled up his underwear and jeans. They dressed silently and exited the apartment, his cum slowly trickling out of her cunt on to her already sodden panties. He didn't bother with the crash helmet for the short distance to Rupa's home and back.

Sure enough, Maitri asked her daughter why she was late. Rupa lied, as planned, and no more was said. She went for her bath, washed her undergarments like she did every evening, and then sat down for dinner with her mother and younger sister. That night, as she lay in bed, she thought back on the evening; while it had temporarily satiated her longing, it had also whetted her appetite for more!

Hans followed almost a similar routine once he got back to his flat after dropping Rupa; he showered, had dinner and went to bed. Strangely, he was not perturbed by any moralistic compunction, the sort that had troubled him for so long after they had first made love. While he had sex on a regular basis with the mother, there was always something missing, something that made him hanker for the daughter. There was a bond, a friendship, with Rupa that he could never quite forge with Matty; they didn't even speak the same language so verbal communication was practically non-existent.

Three days later, it was the end of the week and approaching 10 o'clock in the morning. Rupali was sitting on the floor in the front room of their hutment, studying. She hated learning by rote but there were some things she simply had to cram and commit to memory. Mumbling softly to herself, she saw her younger sister sitting on her bed, sewing some garments that needed repair. Not really concentrating on her immediate environment while memorising a cost principle theory, she idly saw through a crack in the door that separated the two rooms. Mama was getting ready to go to Hans apartment.

She'd seen her mother getting dressed on numerous occasions but it suddenly struck her that she spent more time preening and dolling up on Saturdays and Sundays. Could she be having an affair with Hans, Rupali wondered without any chagrin or malice. For herself, she knew she had something special going with him, however short it was going to last.

But Rupa had often thought about her mother's love life and had frequently wished she could have found another man after her husband left her. She felt sorry that her Mama had to sacrifice the pleasures of a happy sex life when she had been in the prime of her halcyon days. Looking at her now through the slightly open door, Rupa saw her mum putting on a black brassiere, wedging her overflowing breasts into the cups of the undergarment. Once satisfied, she placed her hands on the slight bulge of her tummy, trying to flatten it. As she stood in profile, facing the large mirror they had bought recently, Rupa saw the thick mass of her mother's pubic hair; wild and overgrown. Mama then reached for her panties and began stepping into them, one foot after the other, as the younger woman contemplated her voluptuous mother.

Maitri picked up a folded petticoat that was lying on her bed and stepped into the underskirt, tying it with a cord very low on her hips like she always did. Then she went through the process of wrapping a pastel blue floral-printed saree around herself, tucking the top into the waistband of her low-slung petticoat. She donned a matching half-sleeves blouse that barely covered her boobs, leaving a large swathe of naked midriff between the top and the saree. She then tidied her hair, tying it into a large bun at the back of her head, before applying a thin line of kohl on her eyelids. That was followed by a careless dab of lipstick on her full lips and a few spritzes of perfume on her neck behind her ears. All this only seemed to happen on weekends, Rupa thought.

Finally, wrapping a stole around her shoulders, Maitri stepped into a pair of sensible shoes and set out for her two kilometre walk to Hans' apartment. Rupali waved at her, smiling as she returned to her "Corporate Accounting: Theory & Practice, 6th Ed. by Greg Shields."

***

Now, it was Friday, the 23rd of December; it had been almost four weeks since that brief and hurried romp with Rupali. Hans missed her but hadn't dared to ask Matty about her daughter, or whether it was possible for her to visit. Every weekend, he had wished that Rupa would come instead of her mother; of course that hadn't transpired.

But he had decided that this coming weekend, he would ask Matty if he could meet Rupa, if only to just spend time with her and say goodbye. He had barely a week before he left for the capital en route to Paris. He wanted to be able to communicate with her, by FaceTime or any other video communication app and wanted to get all her contact details. He wanted to wish her well for her final exams which were three months away, and also hoped she would come to where he lived, in search of her first job. Perhaps he could even help.

All these thoughts rushed through his mind as the wind roared past his helmeted head on Highway number 333 at 2:30 am. It was bitterly cold but he was well protected under thermal and fleece clothing, and his trusted leather jacket. He had been to the official inauguration of a 2 km long road-cum-rail bridge; a bunch of local politicians and government bureaucrats had graced the occasion with a series of speeches, none of which Hans could understand. But he was representing his company which had been the lead consultant and design architect for the project. They had praised him because, although not the project head, his unstinting efforts and work had drawn the attention of many influential locals.

The original plan was for him to stay overnight at a government-owned chalet and drive back the following morning. But he had decided he would do the six-hour ride back to his home that night itself; he wanted to be there when Matty came to work in the morning. He had left at 10:00 after having a beer and something to eat with the others, most of whom would be soused on whiskey by now, he thought as he tore through the wind-scaped countryside.