Hi everyone, my name is Vijay (not real, of course) based in Canada, originally from Chennai. I am 36 years old and have been married for the past 10 years. I have had a few encounters in my life, both pre and post-marriage.
The real-life incident I am narrating here is the first, which happened when I was 19. At that age, I was very studious and academically considered bright (though I have my own views on who is bright and not) and always prioritized academia and commitment to family goals over personal goals, hence never having a girlfriend or prioritizing them. That didn’t mean I didn’t have a sex drive; it was the exact opposite – it was too much for me to handle every day, and even a simple touch by accident would give me a hard-on (yes, there is a story about me and an experience in a crowded place, but I’ll save it for another day).
I would have to masturbate 5 to 6 times a day to quench my needs. In terms of looks, I was decent-looking, not too tall, around 5’8″, but what attracted women to me was my sense of devotion, passion, and absolute commitment to anything I did – sports, academia, or work. My maid absolutely doesn’t get any of this – but this is my first story, and many more are to come, so stay tuned.
She has been our house maid for more than 15 years, yup, she joined us when she was 20 and continued to loyally work for us. My family had a lot of trust in her; her husband was a drunkard and irresponsible, usually taking money from her and using it on alcohol. We also ensured that her son didn’t grow up in that troubled home, and he stayed with us, and we treated him like a brother.
A few years after the incident, he passed away due to excessive alcohol consumption. My maid has seen me grow up; she was also like a mom, and I remember as a kid, she would bathe me and dress me up for school.
I never had any ill intentions or thoughts towards her. She also liked me more than my brother, who is elder to me by 4 years, but a bit more serious; my maid, though, likes the fun side of me and would often engage in banter, never to flirt. We lived in a 3BR apartment; I lived with my grandparents, my mom and dad were working abroad, and we were middle-class then, so the parents took the sacrifice of making money over spending time, though it was the best decision, as growing up with grandparents is a completely different experience.
However, as puberty hit, and given my forever horny state, it so happened that one of the days when she was mopping the floor – the typical old-style mopping would be to squat, soak the cloth, and wipe the floor – her pallu came down, and damn, I saw her massive cleavage. Let me describe her to you: she was not pretty, not at all; she didn’t groom herself to the best, she reeked of sweat, had a bomb of a body, boobs around 36D, a small chubby waist, and an ass like a barrel. Yes, at that age, given the horny state I was in, the cleavage and waist exposure made me desire her.
I then would take more opportunities to stare at her body whenever possible; I would be sitting on the sofa as she swept, but secretly staring at her massive boobs and swaying hips. This happened for a few months, and I started getting a bit flirty with her, where I would joke and poke at her hips; she took it all in fun spirit, never to give me back a naughty smile or convey a signal that showed anything sexual. However, slowly, I got the courage to make a move and was waiting for the right opportunity, and here it came.
It was a warm day in Chennai, and my grandfather’s brother and his family had come home to visit us; our home had an air-conditioning unit in the hall area where they were seated, and they shut the door to the other rooms to ensure the room stayed cool. This, I saw, was the opportunity I was waiting for; I was in the bedroom studying, my maid was in the bathroom washing some large dishes. I took all the courage and crept behind her; she was squat-sitting on a stone and scrubbing the dishes, and I slowly moved my arm into her blouse and felt her boobs.
That felt like time had stopped; my first boob encounter, and boy, I was lost, had a massive hard-on. I felt her nipples as I pushed my hand into her blouse, surprised to see that she didn’t wear a bra, and I fondled her boobs, squeezed them. I didn’t see her face, but she stopped scrubbing; she was probably shocked and didn’t say a word. I didn’t know what to read of the situation; I felt guilty that I did something bad, I took my hand out, and went back to my room. I was thinking about what happened, and feeling horny, I made another move, as I felt she didn’t object or push my hand away, and felt that the signal was there.
I went back and did the same, again; it felt like I was doing it against a wall, no reaction, no expressions. I stopped, went back, masturbated, but was feeling bad that I did something which was not my true self, and felt very guilty. She didn’t say a word and continued doing her other chores; we didn’t see eye-to-eye for the rest of the day.
The next day, she came to work, looking a bit fussed and upset, and surprise, surprise, she came wearing a bra. It was a clear indication that she didn’t like what happened, but I was also confused that she didn’t confront me or raise this issue with my grandparents. However, she was very formal in speaking to me, clearly sending across a message, probably she was also confused, but her first reaction was to signal that she is not ready to move ahead with my intentions. A few days passed by, and things were not great, and I was starting to accept that I screwed up things, and I kind of told her I am sorry; she didn’t say anything and continued doing her chores.
However, there was a twist of fate. She came home at 3 PM to our house; this time around, I was alone, my grandparents had left to meet up with my grandfather’s brother. I opened the door; she walked in, as always, brings her bag, keeps it at her place, picks up the broom, and starts getting down to work. I was thinking, she didn’t complain, she didn’t say anything to me to stop, all she did was signal a few things. I was like, today is the day, where I make another move, and if she says no, then it’s a no forever, but I wanted to hear that from her.
I made the typical move, where this time I stood behind her and groped her soft massive boobs; every touch made me feel so awesome, I had a hard-on, and that brushed against her ass. My cock is not the longest, it’s 6.2 inches long, but damn super thick and fat. She kind of moved away; I stopped right away, apologized, and said I won’t do this anymore, and that I am really sorry. I went back to my room and continued studying. She came to my room and started sweeping; she dropped the broom down, looked at me in the eye, released one of her boobs from her blouse, and asked in a very straight face and tone, “Is this what you want?”
I was shell-shocked; I was not sure if she did this because of frustration or if I pushed her to the limits. I looked at her, didn’t do anything; she picked her broom, tucked her boob into her blouse, and continued. I was confused, shocked, and was like – what just happened, what am I to do, did I miss the opportunity.
I went back and told her I wanted that, and this time I lifted her blouse and released her massive boobs; they sprung out like they had been held in pressure. She had big black areolas; I started sucking and biting them, they were my first boobs, and I was like a hungry wolf growling at them, biting and sucking them hard, and I finally got the reaction from her; she was moaning softly. I then took her to the bed, put her on the bed, unhooked the blouse fully, and started kissing her body and sucking her boobs, but doing it erratically, as seeing someone’s naked body got me too excited that I didn’t plan on what to do.
She asked me to stop and asked me to take it slow; she went and sat on the floor and opened her blouse and fed her boobs into my mouth; she was moaning so softly, I still remember her “aaah’s” which were so soft, and she held the back of my head, pushed it deeper into the boobs, pretty much wanting me to bite and suck it harder.
I placed her nipple between my teeth and pulled it up and made sure to bite a sizable chunk of hers on the side. She kept moving my head between boobs; I took her hand, moved it to my cock, I removed my shorts, and made her stroke my cock; she looked at it and exclaimed on the firmness and the thickness; I held her hand and made her stroke; we were getting so intense, I was sucking her boobs, soaking it with my saliva, it was dripping, and she let me maul her boobs, she let me bite her as much as I wanted to.
I was eating her boobs pretty much; she took my other hand and made me feel her other boob; I pinched and twirled her nipples and squeezed her boobs so hard, and soon enough, after 10 minutes, I came with a huge load; she was shocked at the amount of cum and was so turned on, but I was done; she cleaned it up for me and smiled, and we both broke our first kiss; she smiled, I was so relieved, she was really happy. I was almost getting ready for round 2 when the doorbell rang; we quickly dressed up and got back to pretending nothing happened.
After this incident, every time she came to work, I would sneak to the terrace with her, as she removed the clothes from the drying line; I would stand behind her, push my cock between her ass; she would free her boobs from her blouse, and I would fondle them happily; she was getting more shy and coy with me during this phase, and it would end with me sucking her boobs and the hand job. Whenever we were alone, I introduced her to porn, and she told me that she has never sucked anyone’s cock and told me she wanted to suck mine and that she is doing it only for me.
It was so good, beyond words; slowly, she was becoming my slut; we got very daring too; I started unhooking her blouse, even when it was a full house with everyone around; she would come to me during her chores, see my hard-on, and would give me a stroke; she told me honestly that she has not seen anyone as hard and horny as me. I asked her what her husband did; she said just a few minutes, and he would be done.
This continued for a while; we didn’t have sex; I was scared of STIs and was always hesitant (yes, I could have gotten a condom), but for some reason, religious or so, I stayed away from engaging in intercourse. I felt her pussy a few times, and boy, she was overflowing with her juices; I mean, she was the wettest I have ever experienced.
I then left for Canada, came back only to realize that she was no longer working at our house, as she had relocated to the outskirts of the city, and it was too far to commute. I missed her and met her a couple of times, and there was a smirk of naughtiness every time we met. Eventually, I got married, and she came to my wedding, and she was feeling shy, happy, and with mixed emotions, wished me luck. She is still my slut, and even thinking of her and writing this gives me a hard-on; forever happy memories that I’m grateful for.
I am open to your comments; I could be reached at [email protected]; I will post my other incidents over the next few weeks.