Mekalai had discovered something about Sundar 'anna' (big brother) earlier. The first time it happened only because she had collected the clothes basket earlier than usual. Sundar anna's lungi/ dhoti was there and her hand touched upon the wet, sticky area where Sundar had spent himself.
She spread out the cloth and saw the area where his cum was. She did not exactly know what that was but she knew it was something naughty and sexual. She wondered about whether it was that the cloth was used as a bed sheet by Sundar anna and his wife.
She didn't think they had a sex life there and she reasoned out that she was correct. Curiosity got the better of her and Mekalai touched the part where a wad of cum lay accumulated. She felt the slickness of the viscous fluid her mouth agape in fascination.
At 19, the young housemaid was a virgin. She had this young man from back in her village to whom she was promised. And she and he petted heavily. She had felt stirrings of desire and allowed him to caress her in places her body told her was linked to that desire. And on occasion he had been bold enough to hold her hand and press it to his erection. She had squeezed the hardness she felt through his trousers and noted both warmth and moistness seep through. Was that moistness this fluid she saw in the cloth before her?
Mekalai had grown to admire Sundar anna over the years for his cordial manner with the maid and his completely non-sexual demeanor. She had heard stories of the men of the house, young and old, seeking dalliances with the daily help. She had heard of other working women – also old and young - from her community willingly allowing themselves to be taken. (But what it did it mean to be 'taken'? She knew not.)
For some women it was one more source of pleasure. It had the added advantage of buying them privileges. Some others, less fortunate, obliged the masters for the privileges. For some it was the sexual pleasure, combined with the luxurious settings of a well kept house in contrast to their own living quarters.
And then there were some like Mekalai who avoided having anything to do with the houses where they worked, beyond their duty. Some worried about the ladies of the house. Some worried about the consequences for themselves. Some were just not the type.
And yet, almost all could relate tales of having been watched, given lecherous looks, touched inappropriately or propositioned.
Given all those tales, Sundar anna was an exception. In fact, Mekalai's mother felt completely safe leaving her daughter unsupervised at his house, including at times when she went away to her village for a few days. There were few places in a big city where a beautiful, luscious lass like her daughter could be safely left behind. It was partly the city, but it was also partly the girl, if the hot-blooded nature of the women from her community was anything to go by.
Her daughter was not like those others. Neither was Sundar anna.
This excellent working environment allowed Mekalai to be as free as free could be without any worries. There emerged an unspoken closeness between the 72 year old master of the house and the 19 year old maid of the house.
She never really took care to cover herself though she wore the more practical and work-safe 'chudidar', which is like wearing trousers with a top whose hemline reaches below or around the knees. The alternate traditional dress is the very sexy saree. A blouse that ends just below the breasts leaves the entire midriff open. The blouse itself could be tailored daringly.
The back of the blouse could be left completely bare as some of Sundar's daughter's blouses were. It left nothing to imagination as men gawked as the vast expanse of smooth skin, inviting to be touched and caressed.
The breasts could be confined tightly and the thinner material might clearly outline the breasts in all their glory, leaving nothing to be imagined about the position, shape or size of the nipples that topped them.
Simply simply cutting a low neckline to the blouse could also expose the upper slopes of the breasts. Depending on how a woman was built, that could show off lovely rising slopes, or deep-valleyed cleavages.
There are even blouses which have no side panels so that a lucky man might catch a glimpse of a bulge of breast, bursting through the confines of the blouse. There was something to a breast pushing at the limits of a garment. It reminds men of ripe fruit waiting to be taken.
And if the blouse itself was not enough, there was the diaphanous length of cloth, which forms the saree itself. It could cover everything – but it could also reveal it all.
And even if it covered everything, the part that covers the upper body could be allowed to fall at a very precise moment, bringing more allure to the woman.
The lower part of the saree brings eroticism to the visual experience by where it is tied. Tie it lower to show the curve of your hip. Arrange it to go below the swell of your belly so that your belly button is on display and men feel the urge to feel that swell of curvaceous belly.
Tie it still lower and tantalize the men with visions of your hip and your lower abdomen. "How much lower will reveal her pubic area?" a man might catch himself wondering.
And finally, one tug of the knot that held this all together and a shrug of the shoulder and the woman would be open to her man of choice. The blouse added to the seductive charm. The skirts could just be lifted up...
Like sun, clouds and the play of light on an undulating landscape below bring poetry to flow, so it is with the saree.
