Manly Massage - Bengali HouseWife with Servant [Hot story]
I am an Indian (Bengali) housewife, aged 42 now. I wish to narrate a true incident in my life,
which happened nearly four years ago.
I had all along a very active and satisfying sex life with my husband, but around
five years back, a lingering back pain of mine spoilt my sex life completely. Whenever
we attempted, my pain used to be unbearable and finally we had to stop that. Although
my husband all along tried his best for my treatment and never expressed his sexual
frustrations before me, I could guess that he used to feel miserable. So was I.
I consulted a number of doctors. Most of them said that the pain was artharitic in nature
and there was no cure for this. At last, I consulted an ayurvedic doctor. He prescribed
a herbal medicine and advised me to have an oil massage in my back everyday. He said
that I should better get it done by someone who knows massaging fairly well. I liked his
advice, but who would do that for me ?
We had a boyservant, called Bachchu, who used to work full-time in our house and help
me in cooking and other domestic works. He was quite young and if my guess goes right,
he must be around twenty then. Bachchu was quite dutiful, efficient and honest and
because of these reasons, we liked him. I asked Bachchu if he knew someone who could
do the massage for me. Basically, I was looking for a woman to do this job. Bachchu
thought for a while and said he didn't know anyone. He suggested that he himself would
be able to do this job as he had worked in a massage parlour for a brief duration.
When I heard his suggestion, I simply blushed !! No, it's certainly not possible for
me to agree to this. Myself getting massaged by my servant - no, such a thing I could not
imagine. Still, I didn't say no to him immediately. I said I would ask his "babu"(my husband)
and then decide. When I told this to my husband, he said, "Nandita, you should have agreed
straightaway. If Bachchu himself knows massaging, I think that's going to be the best."
I tried to tell him how I blushed at this suggestion. He was annoyed, "Nandita, what is more
important for you ? Your lajja (shame) or getting relief from the pain ?" I agreed that
certainly the second one is more important for me. My husband looked happy. He said that
I should offer him Rs.50/- extra per month for this job.
Next morning, after my husband left for the office, I called Bachchu and told him about
my decision. He was happy that at last I have agreed to his suggestion. I told him about
the extra money. To this, he looked pretty embarassed. He said, "Masima, you may give me
anything else, but no money please. I'll love to do this service for you."
After finishing his domestic duties, Bachchu came to me. He asked if I was ready for the
massage. I was getting ready to apply hair oil on my hair myself, before he started the
massage. Bachchu looked at me and then said "I can do that better ! Give the bottle to me."
He almost snatched it from my hand and told me to sit on the floor.
I was wearing a pink cotton saree with a matching
blouse. I love to put on pink dresses as that suits my fair complexion very well.
Bachchu sat behind me and loosened my lovely long, black hair and
let it fall on the floor in a cascade. He started applying hair oil onto my hair. The whole
room got filled up with the sweet fragrance of the hair oil that I use. He praised my
long hair and caringly applied oil to my scalp and then put his fingers through the strands
of my hair. When he was massaging my scalp, I was trying to imagine how would he massage
my back ? Do I have to remove my blouse ? Oh, No ! I just shuddered to think that. Otherwise,
how, I wondered, would he massage my back ? I had a strange mixture of nervousness, shyness,
uneasiness and what not ! My heart began to throb as he was about to complete the massage with
Bachchu applied the massage oil on his both palms and applied them on my forehead. I wondered
why he was massaging me there, as I never had any pain in that region. Bachchu told me that
massage is good for the body and it shouldn't be restricted to the pain region alone.
Actually, a good massage should always start from the top - that's what his trainer had told
him. He gently massaged my forehead and then my cheeks and chin. He softly applied oil on the
bridges of my nose and even cared to apply a bit of oil to my nostril openings.
I relaxed and enjoyed what he was doing. He massaged my lips as well. After that his hands
came close to my ears. He removed my ear rings. With a pair of Johnson buds, he carefully
cleaned the interior of my ear and applied oil in every part of my external ear. My body was
put to rest. It was so relaxing , so enjoyable. I wanted him to continue with my face for some
more time, but Bachchu surely had more things to do.
Bachchu's fingers slowly approached my neck. I was wearing a mangalsutra (a kind of gold necklace
with black beads - a sign of married Indian ladies) and perhaps that was causing a bit of hindrance
to his massage. He asked me if I would remove my mangalsutra. Unlike other Indian ladies, I am
free from any prejudice and I willingly unhooked that from my neck. Bachchu took it from me and
carefully put it on the bedside desk. He could then massage my throat and the neck region without
any obstruction. After this, Bachchu took my right palm in his hand and gently rubbed it with his
palm. Then he individually massaged each of my fingers. He was doing everything with such a great
care that I had a great feeling of liking from within. He repeated the same things with my left
palm. He was all the time talking to me and that must have helped in making the atmosphere easy.
I was having pink nail polish on my nails. Bachchu smiled and joked, "Mashima, everything is pink for
you today." With the oil on it, those were glittering. The next item of massage was surely my hands.
Bachchu removed all my bangles from my hand. Even the "sankha" and "pala" (a special kind of bangle
used by married Bengali ladies) were off my hands. He then rubbed my hands with force, sometimes
pressing and kneading. I could sense that my blood flow was increasing and I was feeling hot,
even though the ceiling fan was revolving right above my head. Bachchu gathered greater and greater
strength and continued to massage my hands upto the elbows for some more time. My blouse was
covering rest of my hands. When his fingers moved above my elbows, he softly whispered in my
ears, "Mashima, apnar blouse ta --"(madam, your blouse please). I guessed because of his shyness
he couldn't complete the sentence, but I could clearly get the signal that he wanted my blouse
removed. Although, I was under this tension for a long time before my massage, when the moment
came, I was so much engrossed in the massage that I didn't hesitate to remove it. I unbuttoned
the blouse from the front and Bachchu helped me to take it out of my hands. I had a bra inside
and I covered the exposed parts of my back with the pallu (the upper part) of my saree.
Bachchu's fingers could now freely move above my elbows, right upto my shoulder joints and
arm pits. He was saying that my hands were too soft and massaged them with greater strength and
energy. I was having increased blood circulation and wanted him to continue the massage in this
manly way. He then rubbed my shoulders and uncovered my pallu to the extent that he could
completely massage the upper area of my back. He asked me how I was feeling. I admitted that
the massage was bringing great comforts to me and he was surely doing a great job. While he
was massaging my back and especially my pain region, I suddenly felt that all my pain had
suddenly gone. It was just incredible. I was deeply engrossed and I didn't even bothered
to protest, as Bachchu's trembling fingers unhooked my brassier strap at the back. GOD !!
I was never prepared for this. Bachchu slowly removed my bras, as I tried to protect my boobs with
my saree. My servant was sitting behind me and could freely massage all over my bare back.
He started gently with my spinal chord and the regions around it and massaged with force when he
came to the sides of my back. At one stage, I felt that his fingers were quite close to me breasts.
I was wondering what would happen, if his fingers accidentally touched my breasts ! The moment this
fear came to my mind, my heart started throbbing. I was torn between embarrassment
and arousal. I realized I was getting horny - my face was
getting red, my eyes were burning, my pulse rate was increasing and I started getting a sexy
sensation between my legs. I knew that given the employer-servant relationship between us,
Bachchu would never dare to touch me there. But, somehow, at that moment, all my sexual desires,
which were absent for the past few months got revived. I desparately wanted a male hand to touch
me there. For the first time, I dared to have a dirty fantasy of my servant grabbing my breasts.
GOD !! What am I doing ? Am I forgetting all social norms and taboos ? Am I still in my senses ?
I realized all my powers of arguments, powers of thinking were gone. At that moment I only
wanted a hard male squeezing of my breasts. I was desparately waiting for an accident to happen.
But no! No accident was happening ! His hands were still keeping a modest distance. I was
getting restless for a touch. At one stage, I just pointed fingers to my boobs and asked with
a husky, trembling voice, "Wouldn't you massage me here ? "
I turned my face to him. The twenty year old young man blushed and looked red. I tried to look
at his pyjama. His swollen cock made it a tent and I could make out how horny he was. That
made me more excited. I was trying to visualize his erect manhood inside his pyjamas and felt
that my hot cunt started tingling strangely and I could sense my molten cunt cream after
a prolonged period of abstenance from sex.
" Masima, I --I thought you wouldn't allow me to do it there --"
he was clearly stammering in excitement and fear. "No, no, you are a very good boy.
Why should I mind ? Afterall, it's a massage isn't it ?" , I tried to assure.
Bachchu could not wait any longer. He oiled his palm again and pressed my breasts. GOD ! Was I
cheating my husband ? I surely was. I was married for 15 years. It was for the first time
in my married life that a person other than my husband had taken control of my breasts.
"Ohh ...! Squeeze it .... ! Squeeze it more ...!" that's what I wanted to shout, but
I tried to apply my control. Bachchu was faithfully oiling my breasts. My hard nipples,
the black circle surrounding that and all over. He was doing with his both hands- sometimes
softly, sometimes tightly, giving a different sensation at every moment. GOD ! Who taught
him to be a lover like this ? Nature ? I wondered. For the first time, I started making
verbal expressions. "Don't feel shy - do it nicely, a---h just like this !!"
Bachchu was too excited to talk to me. He faithfully obliged and drove me wild
with greater and greater ecstasies.
Free Video Chat with Indian Girls
|Thread Tools||Search this Thread|