Working Girl
Atif opened the gate and stood aside to allow Reema, the maid, to enter. As usual, he had left barely enough room for Reema to pass, his upper arm brushing against her breasts as she tried to
Atif opened the gate and stood aside to allow Reema, the maid, to
enter. As usual, he had left barely enough room for Reema to pass,
his upper arm brushing against her breasts as she tried to. Every
day, he did the same childish things.
“Ammi is in her room” He said locking the gate behind him and
following her up the drive way to the front door.
Atif watched Reema’s fat ass wobble as she walked. Her thin shalwar
kamiz was old and well worn, typical work cloths, clean but old. Atif
was certain that beneath them, Reema was without panties. Her class
did not go in for such luxuries. He licked his lips at the thought of
her pussy.
Reema felt his eyes on her as she walked. She added an extra spring
in her step to make sure her ass wobbled just right. She liked to
tease him.
“Stupid kid” the thirty-something thought to herself.
Birth dates were irrelevant in her world. You worked from the moment
you could stand up to the day you lay down and died. Why waste time
counting the years in between?
“Massi?” (Polite term for house cleaner) the voice of the Memsahib
(madam) rang out
“Jee Memsahib” Reema answered walking through the house to the
bedroom where Memshahib was.
She was well aware that Atif was still probably staring at her butt.
If he wanted her, he would have to make the first move. She had
certainly given him enough signals to say she would not object. The
extra money was always useful, and why should he get it for free?
As usual the Memshahib had just woken up, although it was 12.30 am.
She was sitting up in bed in her night suit.
Reema had been up since sunrise working in two of three bungalows in
the posh Gulshan-Iqbal suburb that gleamed and shone in the sunlight
a stones throw from her grey cement block house in the slum
neighbourhood nearby.
“Oh Massi” Memshahib began “My back hurts so much.”
Reema squatted on the floor beside the bed and listened as Memsahib
went in to her usual `life is hard’ speech. Reema had heard it so
many times from so many other memsahibs that she knew the speech off
by heart.
She nodded and looked sympathetic but her mind was else where. She
watched Atif as he came in the room and sat down on his mother’s bed
and clicked the remote control of the TV on.
Atif was 18 or 19 years old, (Birthdates mattered to the rich for
some reason),
He was a slender boy, not very tall, with a thick bush of black hair
cut in the latest fashion. He sported a beard which for his age was
surprisingly thick. It made him look rather heavier then his actual
build.
Reema could see his build all too clearly today. As he bent one knee
against his t-shirted chest, the loose shorts he was wearing fell
down his legs to the hip, showing that his legs were thin and hairy.
Memsahib was rapidly coming to the end of her speech, not bothered
that Atif was leaning back on the pillow beside her.
“Abdul?” Memsahib called out
A man about Reema’s age appeared in the doorway with a tray.
On the tray were Memsahib’s usual tea and two slices of toast, which
he set down on the nightstand beside the bed.
This was Reema’s cue to get up and follow Abdul to the kitchen where
she and Abdul usually had tea.
Once in the kitchen Abdul slipped his arm around her waist and smiled
at her, before asking “In the mood?”
Reema smiled and nodded, following Abdul out the back door of the
kitchen to his small room behind the house.
Once inside, with the door locked, Reema lay on the bed and tugged
her shalwar (trousers) Off, letting Abdul climb between her open legs
and fucked her hard and fast. She had taken care to pull the shirt
tail of her kamiz up so that her bare ass was on his sheets. She did
not want semen stains on her clothing.
Abdul was as hot as ever, eager to get in to her and shoot his load.
It had been two days since he last had her and jerking off was
against Abdul’s `healthy living’ code.
15 minutes later they were sitting in the kitchen calmly taking tea
and chatting as if nothing had happened. They never wasted time. Too
risky. Besides, the only purpose was to get Abdul’s heat out.
As for Reema, she liked Abdul and the Rs.50.00 he slipped afterwards
was always welcome.
Atif came into the kitchen and casually asked “Abdul, any chance of a
sandwich?”
Then to Reema he said “Ammi wants a massage before you start the
laundry”
Atif then left. Reema smirked at Abdul she finished her tea and
headed towards the Memsahib’s room.
Atif was standing outside his mother’s room, waiting for her.
Reema looked at him suspiciously as she approached; he smiled and
winked at her as she neared him.
Atif moved aside to let her pass but as she did so, he brushed his
palm over her buttocks. Cupping a butt cheek and squeezing gently, as
she opened the door.
Reema ignored it and entered memsahib’s room.
`Finally got some guts, little boy?’ she thought to herself.
Memsahib was in the bathroom.
Atif entered with a clean sheet for her to spread on the carpet where
memsahib would lie,
As she took the sheet, Atif licked his lips and caught hold of her
hand. Reema smiled at him. She was used to this kind of behaviour
from men. Taking his hand in hers, she guided it to one of her
breasts and let him squeeze it.
She was an attractive woman. She was dark skinned with large black
eyes and long jet black hair.
Her figure was still `hot.” Her 38 inch breasts may sag a bit but
still were very sexy.
Her hips were wide and her waist at 30 inches was by no means flabby
and flared out nicely to her hips and her well rounded and firm ass.
Atif released her breast as Abdul knocked and said “Atif Sahib, your
sandwich.”
Atif opened the door and took the plate off Abdul and locking the
door he put the sandwich on the nightstand and sitting on the bed
leaned back against the pillows, signalling Reema to come closer.
Atif winked at her as he gave his balls a squeeze before reaching
down into his shorts and stroking his shaft.
“Such a silly boy” she thought. “Did he want her to jump on him with
his mother likely to enter the room at any second?”
Reema shook her head and pointed at the bathroom door.
Reema smiled and opened the bed sheet Atif had given her.
Reema had spread the sheet out and was sitting beside it on the floor
waiting for Memsahib to emerge.
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