Prameela was buying vegetables at the farmer's market when she felt someone staring at her intently. She glanced around, trying to figure out who it was.
Her suspicion was right--a boy, maybe seventeen or eighteen, was gazing at her like he wanted to devour her.
His stare made her uncomfortable. After all, her own son was around the same age. That thought sparked a flicker of doubt in her mind. "If this boy was staring at me like this, could my son be doing the same to some other woman?"
And then, another thought crept in. At home, she was often careless with her saree pallu. Her breasts were full and heavy--try as she might to conceal them, they always seemed ready to spill out of her blouse. What if, God forbid, her own son looked at her the way this boy did...?
She was lost in these spiraling thoughts when--"What's wrong? You're lost in some deep thinking!" came the voice of her friend Kavitha, who had joined her at the market.
Prameela subtly pointed at the boy with her eyes and whispered, "That kid's staring at me like he's going to eat me alive." Kavitha chuckled.
"Isn't it normal for someone or the other to stare?" she said casually.
"No, it's not that," Prameela replied. "I'm old enough to be his mother. If he's looking at me like this, does he stare at his own mom the same way?" Kavitha shrugged as she started walking forward.
"He might. That age is like that," she said lightly.
Prameela followed beside her, unease still tugging at her. "That's not it. My son, Ravi is the same age. What if he's looking at me..." She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
Kavitha laughed again. "What, you think he's special? I don't know about you, but I've caught him staring at me like that plenty of times."
Prameela's eyes widened in shock. "Really? And you didn't say anything?" she asked.
"What's there to say?" Kavitha replied with a playful grin. "It's natural at that age. Besides, it feels kind of nice when boys that young look at you like that."
Prameela stared at her friend in disbelief. "You actually enjoy it... Think about it for a second," she said, shaking her head.
As she mulled over Kavitha's words, she glanced back. The boy was following her, just a couple of steps behind. Seeing him so close made her heart skip a beat. She quickly turned her head away, grabbed her vegetables, and hurried out of the market with Kavitha.
Since Kavitha's house was nearby, she walked off, leaving Prameela to head to the bus stop alone.
At the stop, she checked behind her to see if the boy was still there. He wasn't. "Thank goodness," she muttered to herself, relieved.
A few minutes later, the bus arrived. It was crowded, and she struggled to climb aboard, squeezing her way inside.
After a moment, she felt someone press a hand against her backside. Her mind raced--"Him again!?"
She peeked out of the corner of her eye. It was him. A shiver shot through her entire body. "Oh God, what's with this kid sticking to me like this?" she thought, her pulse quickening. Then, ever so slightly, he squeezed her hip.
Before this, plenty of people had brushed against her in passing, but this was the first time a boy of his age had pressed her so deliberately. She could feel his hand trembling--whether from fear or nervousness, she couldn't tell.
A laugh bubbled up inside her, and she thought, "Poor thing, let it be." Since she didn't protest, his confidence seemed to grow, and he kept pressing her for a while.
At first, his touch didn't stir much in her, but as he continued, a heat began to rise within her too. Whether he sensed her reaction or not, it didn't matter--his boldness had clearly surged. He moved his hand off her hips, shifted closer, and pressed himself against her.
Through his pants, she could feel him nudging into the cleft between her hips. Noticing how firm he was, she thought, "Oh God! Even with all these layers, it's poking like this--what would it be like without anything in the way?" The mere thought made a slow warmth spread below, and she felt herself getting wet.
Just then, seizing the moment, he slid his hand forward and gently placed it on her lower belly, slipping it under the edge of her saree. This time, a shiver ran through her.
She glanced around, worried someone might notice. But everyone seemed lost in their own world. She thought about snapping at him to take his hand away, but once again, pity softened her resolve.
Meanwhile, he began to softly rub her belly. Her body warmed further, tingling under his touch. She stole another quick look around. The bus was so packed that no one's eyes seemed to be on them.
As she scanned the crowd, he took the chance to tease her navel with his fingers. The sensation was electric, thrilling her in a way she hadn't expected. "It's just for a little while--let's enjoy it," she told herself, and swiftly covered his hand with her saree so no one would spot it.
Emboldened, he slid his hand upward, inching toward her breasts. Her breath caught in her throat. His hand was shaking wildly now. With that trembling touch, he pressed her breast lightly over her blouse. Each small squeeze sent tremors through her body.
"Oh... if only this bus were empty, how nice it would be," she mused, lost in the moment. But then, the bus jolted to a sudden stop. A checking squad climbed aboard.
