"Where is Arvind?" the man at the door shouted. He must have been about seventy years old. He was wearing a shirt and a dhoti, which is a white cloth worn around the waist in South India and covers the lower part of the body all the way down to the toes.
Saroja heard the noises outside and came rushing from the kitchen. Who was this asking for her husband so rudely?
Her frown changed to a smile. The man at the door was her husband's uncle. This was the same uncle whose children were Sundar and Gopi. For those who do not recognize these names, Sundar and Gopi were her two nephews. She had taken both of these young men to bed. They had lost their virginity to her. And she had lost her innocence to them. The sex between a woman discovering her sexuality and young men discovering sex could only have been animal and animal it was.
Right now she had been working in the kitchen. Without bothering too much about her disheveled state, she wiped her hands on her sari pallo and walked towards the door to invite him in.
"Welcome, welcome Mama!" she said. He was Arvind's mother's brother.
"Where is Arvind?" repeated the agitated elder. At 70 years age he remained sprightly and fit. As he worked himself to a fury his face reddened.
"Come in and sit down first," pleaded Saroja, a little embarrassed. Neighbors were peering from their balconies and windows. Her previous house was an independent bungalow. It was different there.
Let alone simple things like someone shouting at the main door, some audacious moments could happen in that bungalow. She had deflowered her nephew, exchanged intimacies with her maid and been plundered by the maid's husband. In fact, the maid had treated the nephew to some wild sex as well. All had happened there with discretion. No one knew. No one heard anything. Not even Saroja's husband.
This new place was in an apartment block. If someone stood around and shouted everyone would notice. The shift from house to apartment had happened at Saroja's insistence. She had felt the need to change her locality and put distance between Suguna the maid and her husband Murugesh and herself. While the maid's hands were magical and the husband's sexual prowess and endowment was unique in its combination, Saroja was wise enough to move away.
She had fucked her nephew, done stuff with her maid and filled -- no feasted on the maid's husband. But when the moment passed her usual self took over. No one could be permitted to retain any hold over her. The nephew studied well after the focus she created in his mind by making him familiar with sex. She shifted to a completely different locality. And so the new domestic staff had to be from the new locality.
Problem solved.
"I have not come here to sit down!" shouted the man, creating a scene. Saroja could see her neighbor open the door ajar and peer at the commotion. Others craned their necks from their balconies and up and down the stairwell.
"Mama!" hissed Saroja. "Come in. People are watching!"
"Let them watch! Let them know what kind of new neighbor they have," ranted the old man.
Saroja grabbed his arm and pulled him through the door. "What are you talking? What happened now?" asked Saroja alarmed at his tone. The two families had an excellent relationship and the tone adopted by the uncle was unjustifiable.
"Is Arvind not at home?" thundered the uncle.
"No. He is outstation on a tour," said Saroja. She was too was red now, flushed with embarrassment.
"Well, then, let me ask the witch herself," taunted the uncle.
"What? Unless you tell me what the matter is how can I respond to anything?" pleaded Saroja showing the deference expected in Indian society.
"Did you do things with Gopi and Sundar?" asked uncle.
Saroja reddened ever more and she felt a choking sensation. Not that! She hoped and prayed the boys had the good sense to keep their sexual adventures private and confidential. There were reasons and situations which to her mind justified whatever had happened. But she did not want to have to discuss those with anyone.
"What things?" she stammered. Suddenly she became conscious of her disheveled state. More than the untidiness she was conscious of her blouse which was a tad too small for her. Her sari was not wrapped around her so her torso -- blouse and all -- was open to inspection. Damp patches of sweat made her skin show through. And she had been washing vessels- so water too played its part. She drew her sari palloo around herself trying to appear more decorous.
"Now it is too late to cover anything!" continued uncle with his taunts. As Saroja covered herself, he too took a look at his nephew's wife; by extension she counted as a daughter-in-law. The full breasts, flesh bursting from the ill fitting blouse did not escape his attention. He caught himself assessing her sexuality, but it was her fault. It was natural to wonder if the woman was capable of the things that had been reported to him. He would not know for he had never looked at her in that manner.
But since he had been told of the possible sexual corruption of his sons, he had tried to remember this woman in different terms. However, each time he could only recall her as Arvind's caring wife who looked after his every little need. And equally attentive to his needs as a daughter-in-law of the house. In the same manner that she who would care for her father-in-law in a traditional household.
In fact, he could not recall any specific physical attributes, let alone anything sexual.
On the train trip he took to confront Saroja and expose her to Arvind, he tossed and turned all night. He had always thought the boys were safe in their house. Could it have been her? Was she the type? Or was it someone else the boy's befriended in the neighborhood? But he had been told of some incident in the family wedding the previous year...
His inability to conjure up images of her was now compensated by her physical shape in front of him.
"I don't know what you are talking about," said Saroja as she brushed past him to close the front door. It helped her to avoid looking him in the eye, guilty as she was of solving the problems the boy's faced by giving them the sex they so keenly wanted. She was also guilty of going beyond and indulging herself rather fully. More fully than she had ever sexually encountered her own husband.
As she walked past, uncle took note of her glistening neck covered with perspiration from the humid air. He also smelt her sweaty aroma. And yes, her arm brushed his arm. She seemed like a woman bubbling with sexuality. There could be truth in those rumors.
It suited him as well that they were no longer face to face. He could blurt out what he wanted to confront her with a little easier.
"I am talking about what you did with Sundar when he was here," he said.
"I only made him focus on his studies," she said heading back to the kitchen, once again past him.
This time uncle took in the sight of her rolling backside; it looked sumptuous and full too. There was more to this woman than he had previously noticed, obviously.
"By doing what!" asked uncle, again raising his voice.
"By removing distractions," replied Saroja determined to skirt uncle's issues but keeping focus on the real issues.
"You are supposed to advise and restrain them, not indulge them," remonstrated uncle.
"Both Arvind and I use a carrot and stick approach with them. That is why they listen to us. That is how he got admission at the IIT," said Saroja. She was clear that the outcome justified any means she may have adopted.
"I don't it has anything to do with Arvind. Something has been going on between you and Gopi and Sundar which Arvind does not know about. Or should I tell Arvind about it?" asked uncle. He now had the upper hand. He knew Arvind could not possibly know of his wife's activities.
Saroja stiffened. The young men seemed to have been boasting. Was she a conquest? Or had she just been an aunt intent on comforting and soothing the confusion brought about by unfulfilled sexual needs? Why had they not taken care of her by keeping these things to themselves?
"I just managed things no one else in the family could," flared Saroja. Attack was the best form of defense here. She bustled about the kitchen and hall attending to minor chores and tasks, not standing still to face uncle. In the process, her pallo fell loose from the tuck around her waist and once again uncle was privy to her charms. That bosom, sweaty, damp and stuck in places to her skin told him she could have been the subject of the rumor.
"Any young man would be attracted to such a woman'" he thought. "But there is a decorum a daughter -- in -- law of the house must observe'" he said aloud.
"And have I not maintained that?" she said with a toss of her head. Her tousled hair made her look even more attractive. Uncle was now sure. Yes, his daughter-in-law had the sexual demeanor that could validate his suspicions. Had she been any different, he would have had doubts. But once he had assessed her in this fashion, he could see the possibility.
In fact, uncle was aroused. He felt his cock twitch like it hadn't in a few years now. He was surprised at himself. He was ashamed at his bodily response.
He turned away from her to avoid being spotted. The Indian dhoti was a poor garment at hiding the male erection. Any tenting would be obvious even to a casual glance.
"I would agree with you if there weren't any rumors," he said.
"What rumors?" asked Saroja, irritated.
"That you corrupted them," he said. There was no word for 'sex' or 'fuck' or even anatomical parts in the language their community used. Everything taboo lacked an expression in language even.
