A Thaur and His Bahu

Chapter 04: Binita Around the House

The woman massaged the oil into his limbs. Thakur Hari Singh luxuriated in the ceremony of the long oil bath he treated himself to once every week. His weekly routines had been interrupted for a while now because of the preparations needed for his son's marriage to that saucy, town-educated girl Binita.

"Binita," he thought and sighed. The girl had come to talk to him about the stalled marriage when both he and she had descended into lust and for a good hour, they were only man and woman. No relationships, no norms, no taboos crossed their minds as they pounded into each other against the mango tree, on the floor of the cowshed till they were both spent.

His loins stirred at the memory of that animal coupling. It had come to him several times since. The girl had ever since the wedding been extremely careful around him. She never appeared in front of him without her ghungat -- the veil covering her face. She never raised her face, never looked him in the eye and never found herself in any room alone with him.

And so life returned to its routines. Thakur in particular enjoyed the routine of the weekly oil bath. It was an unwritten rule that only the women on the domestic staff would attend to him in the bath. It allowed him a closer look at the various women that worked in different parts of the Thakur household.

Some of the women had rough hands, others were well muscled and capable of giving him a robust rub-down, and still others were dainty and demure and had to lean into him to be able to really give him the strong massage he demanded.

All in all, he enjoyed the experience. Garments tended to get soaked and stick to the skin of the women, often giving him a good look at the shape and size of the bosom or the ass. If a pallo fell forward then he could feast on the sight of jiggling breasts. Some blouses gave glimpses of cleavage. And when they squatted at times the ghagras revealed more leg than normal. All this happened at the wall in the backyard near the well and the taps where the Thakur would engage in this ritualistic bath.

Thakur Hari Singh sat on a low stool, about two feet high and crossed his legs so that he could sit for a great length of time in this posture. At this time he wore a small cloth that went around his waist and loins exposing his body so that oil could be applied, bathing mixes rubbed and water could be poured. The garment was a concession to modesty.

In reality, Thakur was all the time assessing the women around, enjoying their touch and quite often seeking pleasure. These were also the times he ranked the women for selection to ask for his trusted manservant to get for him at the appropriate time at night.

Not all women were available and he had to observe different codes of conduct for different women. Some were strictly off limits. Others were saucy and fancied the fling with the powerful Thakur. It often meant gifts in cash, favors and other things to look forward to. Thakur Hari Singh had all sized up. A new one always meant being cautious, but it also set the Thakur's pulse racing that there was a new woman to possibly take.

Today he was being given personal attention by Laju. She was one of the older more experienced hands. She would never come to his bed but her fingers were magic and she never left the Thakur short of excitement in the bathing area. Here, nothing was off limits, provided the Thakur maintained the decorum of not asking her to his bedroom. That was the tacit understanding them and both enjoyed liberties within that space.

Laju enjoyed manhandling the muscular Thakur and handling his nice heavy cock was a turn on for her. Usually, the beneficiary of this arousal was her own man, later in the night. For now, it was the Thakur and herself.

As Laju rubbed the oil into his legs the Thakur felt the tug of a need to feel release. And release was what Laju was adept at. As usual, no words were spoken. The Thakur just grunted as he caught her wrist and guided her hand further up his leg, past his knee and to his thigh. Laju shook her hand free and pushed her bangles firmly up her hands so they were now no longer jangling. She knelt on the floor in front of his crossed legs and reached under the garment.

As her hand snaked in between her index and middle finger she encountered the hot pillar of his penis. It was the wrong position for her hand if the intention was to fist him, but this was the only to discover where the monstrous cock lay. And there it was, hard, proud and jutting up. She rubbed the based of his belly and with her other hand, stroked the cock through the garment.

Thakur Hari Singh grunted and leaned back slightly.

"Oil!" he muttered, his voice thick with excitement.

Laju poured oil into the palm of her hand and anointed the penis. The Thakur threw his head back and sighed in contentment as he felt the warm oil cover his penis, now glistening. The trickled snaked down his balls tickling him with gentle pleasure. He squirmed and suddenly his erection frantically demanded the relief that only a proper hand stroke would give.

She had done this enough times to know what the man wanted and her finger tips of both hands danced up and down the throbbing and jerking pillar of flesh. Teasing, promising, now fulfilling but not quite. He groaned in frustration and then gasped in pleasure as she closed her hand on the hard cock.

She slid her hand down, pulling the skin down and the head swelled up and drops of precum flowed down freely. The clear fluid ran over her hands and she started upward slowly, the oil melting into the silken skin of his cock. As she reached the head she relaxed her grip and rotated the palm of her hand around the hand before closing the fingers into a fist once again.

She noticed the white streaks which formed around the web of skin at her thumb. She didn't know what it was but it always did form. Another slow stroke downward commenced. Thakur shuddered as his foreskin was stretched back and he jerked and wobbled when the thumb came up to stroke his cock head again.

He was jelly in her nimble fingers and now she started to masturbate him with a steady rhythm. Her bangles started to jangle again and the beat of her hand and the stroking of his cock were the only noise.

Thakur enjoyed this immensely and his hand came to the back of her head and he rubbed her gently. She could never make up her mind on whether he was just being affectionate or whether he wanted her to take him in his mouth. But she never did respond.

She just continued, her eyes intent on the reddish monster and its pulsating beat in response to her methodical stroking. Every so many strokes she ran her hand over the top, which was glistening with precum and it shuddered and caused him to spasm and jerk. That made her hopeful that he might be close to cumming and the next few cock strokes were hard and vigorous in the hope of breaking him.

But he never did. He could just take his pleasure on and on forever. Her hand started to ache and she wanted to switch her right hand with her left hand. She put her right hand down onto the floor to rest the weight of her body. This brought her close to his body, her face near his left arm.

With her left arm she took his cock in her grip with renewed determination. From the tightness and from the way she had made herself comfortable in that position, Thakur knew she was stroking for the finish to make him cum.

Yes, he needed to finish this. Soon someone would be coming in with the special herbal oil for his hair and he wanted to feel every throb and jerk of his orgasm. He did not want to hurry back into a position of modesty without feeling every surge, every drop and without letting himself go over that.

His left hand was on her right shoulder. His right hand reached under for her blouse. Down her throat and straight down his hand cupped the heavy fully laden breast. She was wearing nothing under her choli (blouse). He gripped the breast, briefly feeling the grape-like nipple. He squeezed it, as if milking.

Laju gasped as she felt her juices flow in response to his touch. As it is, she could not control her lust from the sight of his cock. Each time she saw it, as she worked on it her mind would wander to thoughts of how that might feel between her legs. And now his large hands milking her breasts.

Her hand jiggled furiously as she masturbated him. Her head was down staring at the beast which her hand was beating into submission. His hand which was on the shoulder slid down her back. Her torso was now jammed between his two hands, and his fingers twisted and mauled her breast as he felt the brutal pleasure she wreaked on his erection.

She now closed her eyes and gave herself to the rhythm of pistoning his cock with her fist. Her head turned this way and then that, and suddenly when she opened her eyes briefly to see how his cock was beginning to spasm, she spied someone at the door.

It was the new daughter-in-law of the house holding the herbal oil meant for the Thakur's hair.

Their eyes met and locked. Laju was impassive. Her eyes seemed to say to Binita, "Look, this is my job. It is part of what I have to do."

For Binita it was shock. From where she was she could see the woman had her head just under the Thakur's armpit and her hand was rested on the floor. The other hand had to be between them and had to have everything to do with the jangling of bangles and the jerking motion and rhythm. It was a dead giveaway. Thakur had his head upward to the ceiling and the visible hand was on Laju's back. Binita wondered where the other hand was.

Thakur's fingers digging into her back told her he was near cumming. Her breast was red with the mauling. She leaned back, bringing both hands into play again. Laju swiftly changed hands to relieve her left hand and the stroking was taken over by the right. But the left was not idle either. She twirled the top of his cockhead every time it was exposed making him shudder and spasm.

Cumming was imminent. Laju moved back. Her clothes may have been grimy, but all the stains and marks were explained by household chores. She could not possibly have Thakur's semen on her clothes.

The Thakur made a low throaty gurgle as he felt the loss of control. He had to hold something of that woman but she had moved. His hands reached out and grabbed the breasts quickly finding and tugging hard the nipples through the cloth of the blouse.

Laju gasped and threw her head back and waves of pleasure rippled through her with the rough handling. And she felt the cock jerk as he came. She looked down and with jerked the cock as it spat its first shot. She held her hand down having once rubbed the head. A second shot of semen blasted and in time with the release, she jerked her hand down. This maximized the pleasure to Thakur who twisted and caressed her nipples and breast as best as he could.

It was the way she timed each jerk of her fist to the release of semen which thrilled him the most. At the height of his passion, it seemed to him to be a level of pleasure unmatched even by the actual fucking of a woman.

The releases now became thick flows rather than blasts. White cum flowed over her hand as it slid over its treasured holding. She caressed, stroked, pumped and made love to that throbbing flesh, coaxing it to release all of its fluids, warm and thick.

Thakur jerked and thrashed, his legs and hands lost control as he spasmed to every ministration of Laju's.

He groaned loudly and his body went into a relaxed stretch as he felt the goodness of the experience radiate through his body.

Laju looked up and saw that the young daughter-in-law had been transfixed on the spot looking at her father-in-law reduced to a mass of pleasure seeking, spasming flesh. She got up on her haunches and then stood. She held both hands up as one was lathed in the cum and in the palm of that hand she held some of the flow. Her other hand was stained with the white streaks and oil that came from the fisting she had given with that hand. She used her shoulder to shift her pallo into a slightly more respectable cover of her torso, but the signal that her look sent was unmistakable. She was clearly a woman who had been handled by a man and it was impossible to know that she had not been ravaged, fucked and made to cum.

She looked every bit as if all that had happened to her, with her clothes askew, hands full of semen and her face perspiring and flushed.

She brushed past Binita as she went to rinse her hands and arrange herself properly.

"Thakurji, the oil for your head massage is here," she called out to the stretched out, contented man.

"Go, he is waiting,' she said to Binita.

Binita was uncertain on what she should do. She did not want Thakur Hari Singh to know she had witnessed his pleasuring. However, she moved forward confidently, relaxed with the thought that if he was spent he would be harmless.

The night she had and he had fucked in the cowshed like animals was different. On that day, he was just a man and she a woman. Now he was her father-in-law. She would never let anything between them ever happen again. She never wanted to appear before him in any other role than that of a dutiful and conservative daughter-in-law.