When visitors from Western shores see the domestic help whom almost all Indian households employ, they are in turns, horrified, disgusted, envious, after which a reluctant and inhibiting feeling of taking advantage of someone else's bad times overcomes them. They then tend to treat the ministrations of such "servants" as we call them, as if they were being treated by a queen!
But Indians know that the employment of domestic help is a small but essential cog in the economic machinery of our country. In fact, in most cases servants are treated with dignity and respect, their fooding, housing, clothing, medical expenses and even the education of their children are taken care of by their employers. In many households servants soon become an integral part of the family, and are treated well. Of course there are women servants who are taken advantage of by their employers and could be raped and silenced with threats and money. And there are instances where such female help are willing partners to the sexual preferences of their employers.
This is the story of one such female servant who worked in Pratik's house many years ago. She was Nasreen, but called Reena by the people in the house. About 18 years old, she was put in to work as the help to make the beds, wash clothes and dishes, do some ironing and general cleaning around the house. Her father was Pratik's father's driver, and he wanted his daughter out of their village to get a taste of city life as she had outgrown the primary school, and the only school in the village. Unable to afford a dowry for her marriage, he decided to make her work for it, and wanted her in the Gupta household where he knew she would be treated kindly.
Pratik, like all young men his age, out of adolescence and coasting into adulthood, had raging hormones, not entirely assuaged by masturbation and the hurried, in-the-dark, rare groping with females from his circle of friends and acquaintances. He was attracted by Reena's dark and simple good looks, her tight body and firm curves, none of which were completely masked by the old saris his mother had given her to wear. She had a soft voice and smiled a lot which gave her a very merry appearance with sparkling eyes.
Pratik had had luck with a couple of other maids who had been employed earlier in his house, and had been able to get a decent fuck every once in a while from them. It had been six months since he'd last been laid and his small collection of porno had become boring now. While he thought about Reena a lot he was not too keen to do much because Ali, her father the driver was a very intimidating personality. So masturbating allowed him to maintain his cool, but barely so.
It was a balmy evening, a little after the monsoons, and the air was crisp. Pratik was studying for his college final exams a month later, and his parents had gone out to attend a wedding. Smoking a cigarette which he couldn't do while his folks were at home, he tried to make sense of the textbook on micro-economics. There was a knocking on his door and in walked Reena, looking quite agitated.
- Dada, please stop this Ramu from irritating me! He will drive me mad!
Ramu was the cook they employed, a swarthy middle aged individual who was a master at his work when he was in the mood, but usually turned out somewhat decent, edible food at most times. Home cooking zindabad!
- Why? What has he done?
- He keeps saying he will marry me and take me back to his desh. And then he wants to hug me and kiss me!
- So tell him that you're not interested! You know he's married with two kids so tell him that also!
- I've told him that, but he says he will leave his wife and marry me. I've even told my father, but Abba just laughs, and says it won't be such a bad idea, as he doesn't have money to pay my dowry in any case!
She was near his study table, wringing her hands with the end of her sari pallu, tears in her eyes. Pratik felt a great love for her suddenly. As a male he understood Ramu's intentions immediately, and wondered if now was the chance for him to make the much desired move on Reena he had been contemplating for so long. He took her hands and lifting the pallu wiped her eyes, telling her not to cry and that he would have a chat with Ramu. He got up from the table, telling her to wait there and walked to the kitchen to find Ramu cooking at the stove. Telling Ramu in a joking way not to irritate Reena, he gave the cook some money to fetch him some cigarettes and made his way back to his room. Reena was making his bed, bent over and swiping at the mattress with a straw broom.
Sitting at his table, he watched her, her plump but pert backside jiggling as she wielded the broom. He could feel his erection growing under his shorts and he knew this was the time. It was now or never!
Having finished her task, she turned around to see Pratik watching her keenly. She felt the heat in his gaze and she blushed, averting her eyes. He gestured to her to come closer, and she did so hesitatingly. He caught her hands, removed the broom and pulled her close to kiss her cheek. From her cheeks to her forehead, her eyes, her ears (which made her wriggle deliciously), and then to her lips. His mouth covered hers and the wetness and warmth made him insert his tongue between her lips, just as she parted them. She withdrew then with a jerk, but he pulled her back.
This time one of Pratik's hands was cupping a firmly pliant and small breast and he squeezed gently. A soft moan escaped Reena's lips and he brought her closer. She now had no option but to stand between his thighs, and as he closed them together, she lost her balance and sat on his lap. Pratik wrapped his arms around her and hugged her strongly. His hands wandered all over her body, caressing her, feeling her, squeezing her, fondling, kissing until she was shaking as if in a malarial fever. His penis soared under his shorts and she felt the protuberance under her buttocks, instinctively grinding gently down on it.
Pulling down her pallu, he exposed her bloused breasts, and began to unbutton it. She protested, but it was light-hearted and he ignored her. Uncovering her naked flesh, her nipple, rosy red on a dark mound, was erect, and he sucked it into his lips. She let out a deep sigh, and pushed his head into her breast. His hand squirmed about in her lap, finally cupping her pubes, feeling the heat emanating from there through the cloth. His other hand around her waist gripped her soft flesh there, releasing and gripping in a constant action.
He picked her up and seated her on his bed, turned to close and lock his door. She sat there, smiling but looking down at her feet, rearranging her fallen pallu. Pratik straddled her, sitting on her lap, and she sat back, her hands behind her supporting his weight on her. Both his hands were at her breasts, squeezing them tightly, moulding the firm but yielding flesh. He leaned in and kissed her again on her lips, and this time they parted willingly as his tongue intrusively entered her mouth, tracing her teeth, exchanging saliva and drawing in her breaths as she did with his.