Wives of a Feather

"No, there is no overt pressure at the moment, but if I cannot be sure the situation will remain the same if the result is not different the next time," Resham sobbed as she sat next to me.

"Come on, things cannot be that bad," I consoled her by hugging her tight and running my hands down her back.

"I can sense that the tide has turned the wrong way, particularly since my sister had her son," Resham replied, pulling me closer.

"But Nasir loves you very much, and he is publicly very demonstrative," I reminded her.

Despite the fact that we all were from relatively conservative backgrounds, and public displays of affection were not the vogue in our Pakistani culture, Nasir had surprised everyone at his well-attended birthday party a few years earlier by planting a deep kiss right on Resham's mouth right after cutting his cake. The couple were often seen holding hands, his arms around her waist, and even occasionally even sharing a kiss at events like a New Year's Party. "I know he enjoys displaying me to his friends and others, but things are not quite the same at home, and particularly at my in-laws," she shot back.

I absolutely could not believe what she was saying. After all, just on the wall behind her was a picture of the couple with two of their three gorgeous daughters, one I myself had taken. The family looked to be in a state of total bliss – he was rich and held a senior position in the firm I worked for, she was a beauty to die for, and the kids were a cinch to inherit both her looks and his leadership acumen.

Yet things had taken a turn that no one that I knew, including myself, could have foreseen. I had often dreamt of situations where Resham and I were intimate, from the first moment we had met, but had never taken things all the way in that direction despite my friendship with her. Her husband, after all, was not only my boss but the regional head of the organization. And my wife was her best friend!

"I desperately need your help," she whispered into my ear ......

I

"Welcome to Zurich Omar, I'm your colleague Nasir," the gentleman in his late-twenties received me at the airport after an overnight flight from New York.

I learned that Nasir was a couple of levels higher than me, having joined the company three years earlier. I was coming on board straight after completing my MBA. The company had a reputation for being an excellent training house for future leaders and top-flight marketers.

"The bosses decided that since you are a fellow countryman, I should be the first to make you feel at home in this country," Nasir explained.

Shortly after collecting my baggage we were at the oddly titled "Hotel California" close to the middle of downtown Zurich. I was wondering if it was the place I could check out of any time but never leave, as per the Eagles hit from about a decade earlier. Instead there appeared to be a problem with checking in.

"I'm sorry sir, the check-in is at 1 p.m. and the time is not yet 9 a.m.!" the receptionist sounded officious and not very sympathetic to someone who traveled all night. I had been to East Asian destinations like Singapore and Bangkok and had always been accommodated, without cost or fuss, as an early arrival. I guess I was coming face to face with the well-known Swiss aloofness and over emphasis on protocol. The hotel after did not look full at all with many keys in the rack on the wall.

"Guess the best thing is for you to join us for breakfast and then return to the hotel when the check-in opens," Nasir offered and I had no reason to turn him down.

I followed him up the stairs to his apartment a few miles distant from the hotel. Asking me to wait just outside the doorway, he went inside to check if his wife was decent. I was motioned in a minute later and offered a seat in the lounge just inside.

"Resham is in the shower and will join us shortly, but can I ask you a favour?" Nasir addressed me.

As I nodded my agreement, he handed me his three-month old daughter, so that I held her a bit while he got milk ready for the infant. The baby gurgled, smiled and suddenly pulled my mustache. I looked around and noted from the wedding picture on the wall that his wife was a looker.

"Hi, I did not know we had company," Resham blurted out as she walked into the room just as Nasir also returned with the milk. Seems she had not heard him telling her of my being there due to the shower.

Things would have been very normal if she had been in the Pakistani shalwar kameez that I would have expected. But instead in a bathrobe, with obviously not very much underneath, her appearance was unexpected for everyone. Lucky for her, the robe went nearly down to her ankles. I expected her to make an about face and return to the bedroom, but she was sporting enough to take the sofa across from me. The flaps opened, baring her legs almost to her nether regions as she sat down, but she fixed things up in a flash by placing one leg under her other thigh. The image of her nearly bare legs was, not to mention her incredibly beautiful face, however, was seared immediately in my mind.

"Omar, this is my wife, Resham," Nasir made the introduction and surprisingly she walked over and offered her hand to me. It was soft and pliant and I was so inclined to kiss it, but behaved myself.

I stared unabashedly at her throughout breakfast. She did leave the kitchen, having first served the two of us, returning shortly in a relatively demure Pakistani dress, though one with a bold low cut neckline that allowed the top of her breasts to peak out every so often.

I learnt that Nasir belonged to Abbotabad, while Resham was from Jhelum, although both had mixed Pashtun and Punjabi ancestry. They had been married for just over one year and the daughter, Yusra, was definitely a wedding-night baby.

Sometime after breakfast, Nasir suggested we could all go for a drive and then I could check-in to the hotel. Since the car was a 2-door type, Resham handed me the baby again and backed into the rear seats. As she bent down, I got a nearly full view of her braless breasts. Two minutes later the reason for her lack of chest cover became evident. I realized that she was comfortably breastfeeding her daughter while her dupatta (long scarf) covered her modesty.

It took every ounce of concentration in my body to keep my cock from getting visibly erect and I thanked heavens when Nasir got us all involved in a conversation about what was happening in Pakistan as we also took in the sights. By and by we reached the hotel and I was finally able to get into my room, a shower and the bed. The only vision that permeated my dreams that night belonged to Resham Nasir!

II

"Oh hi, imagine meeting you here," Resham bubbled as I looked about for Nasir.

A couple of months had passed and the cold weather had given way to a marvellous Swiss summer. The gardens were in full bloom and the city appeared to be full of life. I had fitted in well into the office but there had been no occasion where Nasir had joined us along with his wife. I had not wanted for female company as the girls at the office were quite friendly, as far as dinner and dancing went, but not much more. Only once had my date ended with a satisfying blow job. Otherwise there was a constant drain on my monetary resources, without a great deal of return on the investment.

On this particular Saturday, I had gone for a walkabout in one of the main gardens in town. Just as I was passing a couple of small hillocks within the area, I heard my name being called out. Resham was sitting on a sheet, spread on the grass, while Yusra, out of the pram was playing with some toys. What surprised me even more was that Resham was dressed in a rather fashionable red sari, which bared her arms and midriff. Once again there was no hesitation as she put her hand out to shake mine.

"Isn't it an absolutely gorgeous day!" she chirped, while indicating that I should sit down alongside. As I did, Yusra rolled over and again grabbed for my face. The kid apparently had taken to me better than I had expected.

"Great, you baby sit her for a bit, while I take care of some lady issues," Resham jumped up and headed off towards the restrooms some distance away. I felt a stirring in my loins as I noted that her blouse was held up by a mere string that left her back almost bare. For a Pakistani girl it was a very risqué outfit.

Coming back almost half an hour later, she handed a nearly full cold can of soda that she had been sipping from to me. Resham herself plopped down on the grass a meter or so away and began rolling about with abandon, her sari alternately covering and leaving the top part of her body in the process. The blouse she was wearing was quite short and I had a great view of much of her. I confess that, at the moment, the soda was more intoxicating than the 8% alcohol beer I had tried at an Eastern European restaurant a few days earlier.

"You really cannot do this in Pakistan," she ventured, obviously relishing the freedom and letting the top of the sari rest to one side. Naughtily, she sat up and pulled up the petticoat and sari up to her knees, allowing me a partial view of two well-formed legs, saying, "you definitely cannot do that in Pakistan!"

"That's a really nice sari, aren't you worried it will get dirty in the grass?" I commented.

"It is, isn't it, Nasir brought it for me from a trip to India last year," she replied, "he's been wanting to see me in it for months and to show me around in it like a prize of some sort!"

"So where's Nasir?" I asked, "And why are you taking the pains to mess the dress up?" Something appeared to be off kilter.

"He's out with his brother who showed up out of the blue and is staying for a couple of nights with us," she snapped, "my brother-in-law has no respect for the fact that we live in a small apartment and have no space for him and definitely not his hanger-on friend!" It was apparent that the couple had been involved in a spat over the surprise arrival of the brother and friend, who both worked for an airline, and she had decided to go out of the house for as long as she could. And ruining the special sari appeared to be part of a calculated plan. Resham giggled and winked at me. Quickly standing up, she unwrapped the sari off her body, leaving just the blouse and petticoat.

"There, you do not have to worry about that getting any dirtier," she put the folded sari to one side on the sheet and divested her flat shoes, before sitting down on the grass next to me, "but I could care less about the rest of the outfit." Reaching down, she pulled the hem of the petticoat literally up to her midsection, letting virtually all of her legs to slip out from under the garment, which by now was rapidly piling up around her waist. She flipped over and I could see all of her backside from the top of her head to the waistline and from literally the edge of her buttocks to the tips of her toes. She placed her elbows on the ground and held her face within her hands, smiling at me, all the while letting her legs bend and the feet go back and forth in an arc. I could not help notice that she had feet that suggested she could have been a footwear model. She continued to surprise me by taking the can back from my hand, after I had taken a few swigs, gulping a big mouthful down, and handing back the empty container.

"Resham, you do have very pretty feet," I made small talk, "have you considered modelling for shoes or even other things?"

"Frankly I was interested in modeling but then Nasir's aunt saw me in the Islamabad F-6 market one day and here I am now with nobody knowing how much I could help with marketing so many things," she mused. I would have bought anything from her at that moment if she had endorsed it.

"Well, if I ever get to run a shoe company, I will certainly sign you up as our spokesperson," I laid it on thick.

"In that case, 'Mr. I-Like-Your-Feet' you can give them a nice rub," she said plopping both into my lap as I sat cross-legged. As she did, her petticoat bunched up even more around her nether regions and her blouse seemed to be covering even less of her front. I started the very pleasurable task and kept it up for a while, ignoring the raging hard on in my pants. Resham certainly would have felt the stiff object as her heels were often placed right over my cock but she neither said anything nor removed her feet.

"I bet you do not have much company here, so why do you not be a perfect gentleman and take us to dinner this evening and then drop us home later on?" she was open about what would amount to no less than a romantic date, "I am sure you can tolerate being seen with ugly old me!"

On one hand it sounded like a really great idea. I had not had her quality of female on my arm at any of the prior dinner occasions. On the other, Nasir was a colleague who was quite friendly in the office and I did not want to take advantage of an obvious lovers' quarrel. Also I did not have a car as my hotel was close to the office. An idea popped into my mind that felt like a perfect solution.

"You are certainly not ugly, and I have an alternate suggestion since I have a room with two beds," I said as her eyes narrowed, "and our colleague Joe has a similar arrangement in the same hotel.

"And you think I should head there now with you, leaving Yusra with Joe?" she quizzed me, "Are we going in an unintended direction, that would be very un-gentlemanlike of you?" She feigned shock at my suggestion.

"Not at all, someone like you is too classy to be in that hotel anyway and I have no devious motive," she smiled and relaxed as I explained myself further, "how about if the two guys come over and share our rooms? Then you go and have a lovely evening, letting your husband make things better between the two of you." She reached out and gave me a friendly whack on my thigh.

Nasir was more than agreeable with the suggestion when we called him from a nearby payphone. Soon afterwards, the two guys were dropped off at my hotel and Resham departed with her husband and kid. I should have had good reason to be bummed, but was not. After ending the conversation with her husband, she had mouthed a thank you as I stood nearby holding the baby and then given me a quick hug. Just before the expected time for Nasir to arrive, Resham put the sari back over the blouse and petticoat, getting a considerable bit of help from me in ensuring the fall and fit were correct, not minding my touches on her body. She then truly surprised me by leaning over and planting a kiss on one cheek, and then the other, saying that was the Swiss was of showing appreciation. I was hoping that a third kiss would land on my lips, but she decided to hold back. I did not want to wipe the lipstick that was evident on my face, but figured it might convey the wrong idea to her husband, particularly given that her sari was crumpled up and even lightly stained in places from her antics on the grass.

III

A few months later, as summer gave way to fall, I was posted to the Middle-East HQ in Riyadh. I intended to phone Resham at the apartment and say goodbye, since no farewell dinner invitation had come from Nasir's side. Instead I was surprised at my hotel one evening when the receptionist asked me to come down to the lobby. Resham was waiting there, with Yusra already standing on her two feet and able to walk.

"I did not come up, since you told me I have too much class to visit your room," she announced, "but you can decide if you will let me make something for you at home, assuming that you can stomach my cooking or you will take me to that dinner you decided to opt out of the last time." I recalled Nasir saying that he had to buy most of his meals ready cooked from a couple of Indian restaurants in town as his wife was not very adept. I was also aware that he had headed out for a week-long business trip a couple of days earlier, promising to catch up with me somewhere and someday.

I could not take my eyes of the visage that Resham presented in a silver coloured dress that ended well above her knees, her feet encased in heels to die for. I was surprised that she was not wearing a South Asian outfit, but appreciated her sense of style all the same. She had also obviously been to a beauty parlour as her hair was done up in a very fashionable style and the makeup was perfect.

"I also thought you may like to check out my lovely legs again since you are not going to see any in Saudi," she whispered, leaning into me, "you couldn't get your eyes off them at my home the first time or at the garden!" I could only return a sheepish smile as she had me dead to rights.

"Well I am only human and you do have nice legs," was my honest response.

"Oh, so you are saying the rest of me is ugly and not worth a look!" Resham baited me.

"Actually I couldn't say that since all I've seen uncovered are your legs and not the whole of your body!" I was getting into the conversation.

"Touche," she replied, "but you are not going to!"

The choice for the evening was relatively simple, she had no intention of cooking and I had to act like a gentleman. I would have liked to take her to one of the finer eateries in town, but with an infant in tow the options were severely restricted. We walked down a few of the alleys before coming up to a quaint Italian place, with a nice patio. Resham had spotted a baby chair among the furniture and decided the place would be child friendly.

"I have been looking for an opportunity to thank you for being such a gentleman the last time we met and sorting things out with our visitors," she conveyed her gratitude as her hand came to rest on top of mine.

"It was the least I could do, you have all been so nice to me," I responded. At the same time I recalled that while Nasir's brother had been a fairly decent guy, the friend was a boor who had proceeded to get roaringly drunk on my dime and had to be carted back to the hotel.

"I really wanted to have a proper party for you, but Nasir only told me about your departure as he left for the airport two days back," Resham continued, "so I do hope you will accept our apologies and will give me another chance to make things up in the future."

"So tell me how things turned out the last time we met," I asked, happy that Nasir was away.

"Well, you really helped smooth things out," she replied as her fingers intertwined with mine, "he loved the dress I was wearing even if it was a mess, treated me to a great French meal, then took no time in disposing of my sari when we got home and finally finished by screwing me twice on the dining table!"

I could not believe how candid she was about her sexual relations and was lost for words. Resham seemed to be enjoying that I was tongue tied. The moment passed as the food arrived. Although it was quite good by Zurich standards, my attention was riveted on her.

"Take me dancing," Resham suddenly spoke after we had gone through a pregnant pause, partially due to the food and partly as we searched for topics of conversation, "Nasir never has the time for it and I am crazy about music."

"Are you forgetting the baby?" I reminded her. Yusra had been pleasantly occupied with her toys and food and was happy grabbing my arm or face every so often.

"Not really, my neighbour has agreed to baby sit tonight, after Yusra is put to bed," Resham had a definite plan in mind, "and you might agree that I am dressed appropriate for an evening out!" She lifted her left leg and placed that foot into my lap.

"I guess I should say that the dress is sensational and yes you look radiant!" I rose to the challenge and brought a blush to her face. At the same time both my hands brushed her leg all the way from the foot up to her thigh. She sportingly allowed the contact before pulling her leg back.