First, a little background. I am a 22-year-old Indian boy, from Delhi. Let’s call me ‘Devesh.’ I have completed my engineering from a good college, and work in a reputed MNC based in Bangalore. My immediate family consists of my grandparents, my parents, and my elder sister, who also works in an MNC. She lives abroad and visits us twice a year.
I have always been a very introverted kid. Growing up, I never had many friends, let alone female ones. As far as I remember, I have had a proper conversation with a female outside my family exactly 4 times.
Of those 4, 2 were quite old, more than double my age. Milfs don’t excite me. I had small, temporary crushes on the other two, but never got around to telling them how I feel about them- that comes from my introversion.
Anyway, enough about me. The heroine of this story is a 24-something-year-old lady. Let’s call her ‘Priyanka’.
Priyanka was the domestic help at our house and had been so for 3 years now. She did a variety of tasks, including cooking, cleaning, washing utensils, etc. She was married and had a sweet 4-year-old daughter.
Coming to her looks, the young maid had a roundish face, with a dusky complexion. She was taller than the average Indian woman, about 5 feet 7 inches or so; slightly taller than my mom.
She was beautiful, but not exactly the Bollywood kind of beauty, more the girl-next-door. Her assets were more than make up for her beauty anyway. She had generous curves, large, firm boobs with a great ass. Also, she was a bit fat, but that only accentuated her curves further.
Priyanka generally wears salwar kameez, and I can assure you that when she does, she captures the attention of every male within a 5-meter radius of her. I have had a crush on her ever since she joined our house. In fact, I had even caught my father and my brother sneaking in side glances at her.
It was 2021. I had just graduated college, and the time came for me to relocate to Bangalore to join my office. I was kind of sad, sad that I was leaving my home, and my family, but sadder that I wouldn’t get to see Priyanka every day. My loneliness, combined with my horniness had ensured that my crush on the maid Priyanka had grown into a full-fledged obsession.
I was constantly thinking of her, her round face, her red lips, her fluffy cheeks, her smooth, silky hair, her generous cleavage that was on full display every time she bent down to pick something up, her glorious ass, and her long, slender legs.
I used to look forward to her coming in the morning and used to wake up every day at 6 am, only so I could open the door first, and get to see her sweet, smiling face. It always made my day.
While she worked in the house, I took every opportunity I could to click her pictures silently and even record her. I put them to good use and imagined her in every sex position imaginable as I scrolled through those.
I used to imagine myself pounding down hard on the Indian maid’s beautiful body, holding her hands in mine as I ravaged her moist cunt with my hard cock. Her lips slightly parted, beads of sweat glistening on her forehead, eyes wide open, staring right into mine.
I imagined her moans as I pounded her, so short, so sweet, reverberating across the room with every hump. Ultimately, I cummed inside her, shooting my hot, eager semen straight into her waiting pussy.
Coming back from fantasyland and straight to the point. I was sad that I wouldn’t see the lady of my dreams every day anymore. Anyway, I left for Bangalore soon.
Time flew by. My company had lots of female staff, and there were quite a few in my team as well. Interacting with them, my desperation decreased, albeit slowly. But Priyanka never slipped out of my mind even though I was too busy with work and exploring the city with my roommates on the weekends. I still thought of her every time I masturbated, and I felt a pang of guilt whenever I gazed at any hot girl on the street for too long.
3 months later, there was an opportunity to visit home for a week. The thought of getting to see the sexy young maid Priyanka again got me excited. I booked home tickets the first chance I got. I decided that my visit would be a surprise, so I didn’t inform my family about it.
When I reached home, it was around 11 pm, so of course, I didn’t expect Priyanka to be the one to open the door. I was going to open the door with my spare key, but Priyanka beat me to it!
There she was, unchanged, smiling sweetly at me as I stood at the doorway, staring at her with my mouth agape, transfixed. She was saying something, but I couldn’t care less.
After a minute or so, which felt like hours to me, she brought me back to my senses. (All conversations took place in Hindi. I am describing them in English here for convenience.)
Priyanka: Devesh!
“W-what?”, I blurted out, snapping out of my trance.
Probably she had realized I was staring at her up and down, so she smiled shyly.
Priyanka: I said, give me your bags and come in.
“Of course, Priyanka. Why are you here so late?”, I asked her, opening my shoes.
Priyanka: Your parents and grandparents are away on a visit to their ancestral land. They asked me to spend the night here.
“Oh, acha,” I smiled, thanking God profusely inside my head. “How long are they away for?”
“They left just today and wouldn’t return for two more days. Why are you smiling? Are you happy they are not here?”, she asked, her eyes pursed.
I became very nervous, and mumbled something like, “Just like that.”
Then I immediately averted my gaze and concentrated on getting the shoes open. With a slight smile, she turned back to take my luggage into the house, giving me a full-on view of her shapely ass over her kurta. I immediately felt my cock twitching. Desperately trying to hide my boner, I advanced inside.
Priyanka: Devesh, I had cooked some noodles for myself. You can have some too.
Then I bathed and had my dinner. I switched on the TV to watch a cricket match. I could hear Priyanka walking about in the kitchen among the din of the cricket commentary.
Then I muted the TV and walked to the kitchen. She was talking on the phone with someone, probably her husband. She seemed angry, and she was speaking in a strict tone.
When I was entering the house, I had become so entranced by her face that I had forgotten to observe the rest of her body. I took my time scrutinizing her now.
The maid was wearing a yellow full-sleeve kurta with a red pajama. It was slightly tight for her and she looked like she had gained weight. Not that I was complaining, her curves were only more accentuated now! I could clearly see the outline of her bra over the yellow kurta and even the slight bulge of her nipples.
The kurta had a slight V-neck, so I could even see a small part of her cleavage. The red pajama fit her very well. I could see every nook and cranny of her long legs and I let my eyes run up the leg to her cunt area. I could only imagine the heaven that must be underneath that fabric.
Her hair was tied up in a bun, allowing view access to her smooth neck. It smelled of jasmine as if she had bathed recently. Overall, she looked drop-dead gorgeous. Or maybe it was my hormones acting up!
I had read in a study somewhere that time apart only increases your longing for someone you lust for. Whatever the reason, the sight of her sent my hormones into overdrive. I stood there, scanning every inch of the servant’s body, while desperately trying to cross my legs to hide my raging boner.
She hadn’t noticed me yet, too engrossed in her phone conversation. She seemed to be arguing with her husband. From what I picked up, she was trying to convince him to allow her to spend the night at our house.
After a minute or so of arguing, she angrily called him a dirty Hindi slur, let’s call it “sister-fucker” here, and cut the phone. There were tiny tears in the corner of her eyes. Then she put the phone in her pocket and wiping her eyes, looked up. It was then that she noticed me. Immediately flustered, she began to stammer,
“Sorry you had to hear that. Please don’t tell your parents. I’ll never do that again, I swear.”
Walking up to her, as the smell of jasmine grew stronger, I was struggling to control my lust. Fortunately, she hadn’t noticed my boner yet.
Tapping her shoulder lightly, I said, “Relax, Priyanka. First, don’t call me ‘sir’. You have been in our house for 4 years now; I am like a friend. Call me ‘Devesh’. And friends don’t apologize to each other.”
That seemed to put her at ease. Smiling, she said, “If you say so, Dev.”
Me: Dev, huh? Seems we are already becoming good friends!
She chuckled at that.
In my mind, I was wondering where on earth I was getting all this courage. I suddenly felt a lot more confident and assertive. In hindsight, it could have been adrenaline.
“What’s new with you, Dev? How is Bangalore? How is the food there? Tell me everything!”, she requested me, with a teenage-like excitement in her eyes.
So, we began to chat about my new life. I told her all about it, from my new roommates, my new home, my office, the city, the streets, etc. She listened patiently; her eyes wide open in amazement.
When I got to the part about my office being rich in female staff, she began to tease me.
“Girls, huh? So, when are we meeting madam Ji? Shall we start preparing for your wedding as well?”, she asked me, chuckling.
Did I catch a glimpse of sadness in her eyes when she asked that or was it just my brain playing tricks?
“No, Priya.” I had started calling her Priya. She seemed to enjoy it. “You know me. I become very shy and nervous around women. I could never ask one of them out. They are way out of my league.”
Priyanka: I am sure you’ll find someone, Dev. You’re intelligent, strong, and handsome. You come from a good family as well. What more could a girl want? Get out there and start wooing some girls.
I don’t know what came over me then. My hand wandered to her cheek. Cradling her face with my palm, I said –
Me: But I want YOU, Priya. There is nothing I want more than to be with you. I could never think of another girl, even when I am thousands of miles away from you.
***
What happened next, you’ll get to know in the next part.
Next Part: Young, desperate boy find love with maid – Part 2