Hans' Maids - Pt. 02: The Young One

"Did you have sex with her?" she asked, suddenly coy.

"What???" Hans was taken aback at the forthrightness of her question. Sex was a taboo subject in most of Asia; more so in the hinterland that he was presently living in. What happened to the conservative, rural ethos of this place, he thought. Especially for women to talk in such a way. He felt more bashful than she seemed to be, and actually felt a slight warm flush spread across his cheeks.

He looked at her, biding for time before he composed a response. She had her head bent and was staring at her feet, one hand nervously fidgeting with the tiny charm on her silver anklet. Hans didn't want to avoid the question but, at the same time, he didn't want to give her the impression that he was a hardened philanderer.

He lied, "Yes, but only once."

"And have you had sex after coming to my country?" she persisted, still looking down at the ground.

Hans lied again, saying "No!" as his mind immediately went to the previous weekend and the tempestuous fornication with her mother. But he didn't want to think about that, or the conflicting morality that kept intruding in his thoughts. "What about you?" he asked instead.

"Meee?" she almost screeched, "Of course not! That is only for after marriage," she said rather seriously.

Hans was confounded; on the one hand she was bold enough to bring up the subject of sex, and on the other, she reflected the social proscription that was more typical of this milieu. Hans prodded her further, saying, "OK, maybe not real sex but what about just making out? You're too beautiful and I'm sure lots of your college friends have wanted to make out with you." He was pushing the envelope here; this definitely qualified as flirtatious conversation.

"What does 'making out' mean?"

"You know, like kissing or necking or fondling or touching or stroking...," Hans said by way of explanation.

In the subsequent silence that engulfed them, Rupali timidly volunteered after a few moments, "Well, actually, I have made out with my girlfriend."

"Wow!" he thought to himself, "this woman was certainly full of surprises." But he loved her for trusting him and telling him what must be one of her closely guarded secrets. In the short time that they had known each other, there was a certain chemistry that had begun to bind them. Perhaps it was the similarity in their ages, with Hans being just a couple of years older. Or maybe it was the pent-up mutual desire to communicate; him because of his long hiatus in the boondocks, and her to simply talk to someone from the outside world. But whatever the reason, the bond between the two grew more intimate with each passing minute; even if they weren't consciously aware of it, the young couple were taking their newfound relationship to a different level. A burgeoning friendship, perhaps.

Hans finally broke the silence which had gradually turned from cloying embarrassment to a more companionable one. "What was it like? Did you enjoy it? Making out with your girlfriend, I mean?" He wondered if she was a lesbian, not that he thought anything wrong with that.

Rupali eventually looked up at Hans and said softly. "Yes. It is very pleasurable. We've done it a number of times in the last one year; whenever Mama goes out of town with my younger sister and I am alone at home, we meet and she spends the night with me. Or when her parents leave the house to her, I spend the night with Sunita. That's her name. We tell the elders that we have to study since we're both in the same classes."

Another weighty silence descended around them as it got darker outside; no doubt, heavy monsoon clouds had gathered and the steady drizzle would soon turn into a cascading downpour. Hans was beginning to feel restless, wanting to get past the virtuous rectitude that was holding him back; he stood up and walked to the door leading to the balcony and peered beyond the glass panes as a cloudburst thundered overhead. Sheets of rain came down like a curtain, billowing as the breeze picked up. He reached up to unlatch the door and push it open; there was something about the monsoon that nothing in Europe ever compared to. The crashing sounds, the splashes in the tiny puddles across the meadow in front, the earthy smell of water on dust and mud and grass; Hans found it very calming and rejuvenating at the same time. Most of the time, that is.

***

"Rupa, do you want a drink?" he asked suddenly. She craned her neck and looked up at him, happy that the uncomfortable silence had been breached.

"You want tea? Or coffee? I can make some for you," she said as she rose from the cushions that she was sitting on.

She stumbled a little, losing her balance as she stepped off the squabs. He instinctively reached out and grabbed her arm near the elbow to steady her; they were only inches apart as they looked into each other's eyes, unmoving for the next few seconds. Then she said, "Let me put the kettle on and boil the water."

Hans released her hand, saying "No. I meant would you like to have a gin with me. You know what gin is, right?"

Rupali giggled, "You mean like a cocktail? Alcohol?"

He put on a mischievous look and with a twinkle in his eyes, raised an eyebrow in silent query.

"Of course I know what gin is. I've had it twice before. And also, I've had beer. And mahua. Do you know what mahua is?"

The smile spread on his face as he nodded in the negative, "No. What is it?"

"Country liquor," she replied as she held on to his forearm and turned him around so they could go to the kitchen. "Yes! Let's have some gin," she said gleefully.

They went to the kitchen, anticipation writ large on their happy faces. Hans, once again, had to fight with his insidious demons as he remembered the previous weekend; Matty and he had demolished a half-bottle of sweet dark rum in between their various bouts of lovemaking. But he pushed away the past and stayed focussed on the present. He poured two shots of Hapusa gin into glass tumblers, threw in some cubes of ice and topped them up with tonic water. Then quickly cutting two slices of a lemon, he garnished the drinks and handed one to her.

They clinked glasses and took their first sips while standing in the kitchen, looking into each other's eyes over the rim of their highball tumblers. They walked back to the living room and Rupali took her place on the floor seats. Hans sat on another armchair, this time next to her instead of at the far end. The sound of the rain was a lot more forceful here than inside the kitchen or any of the other rooms.

Hans enjoyed a few drinks on most weekends after a tiring week, but this time he was hoping to loosen inhibitions; both his own as well as Rupa's. He noticed that she was enjoying her gin & tonic but was afraid she might drink it too quickly; she had already made her way through half the glass in the few minutes that they sat quietly, listening to the rain. Hans stretched out to a side table and picked up his iPad and put on some music through his Spotify account. The one thing he was grateful for in this one-horse town was the infrastructure that provided him uninterrupted electricity, water, and a strong internet connectivity with good data transfer rates.

He connected his tablet device to a small but powerful Bose speaker using a bluetooth connection and the soft Reiki music filled the room, the gentle strains harmonising with the rain sounds. It was like the music you would expect in a spa.

Once again, their eyes locked but they maintained their silence for a minute before she raised her eyebrows quizzically and Hans blurted out, "You're very beautiful, Rupa. Very beautiful." Although his comment didn't faze her, she did have the decency to look shyly away. He thought she was probably used to being complimented on her looks.

Hans then continued, somewhat emboldened after draining his cocktail, "So what do you do when you spend the night with your girlfriend? Do you kiss? What does she do to you? Has she seen you completely naked?" Having started, he was blubbering the series of questions, not quite sure how to construct them properly.

This time she definitely blushed, looking down and hiding her face in her hands. "I can't tell you," she mumbled into her palms.

"Why not?" he persevered.

"No!" Rupa said softly, "I'm too shy to talk about those things."

Hans felt sorry and guilty about having pressured her into such an embarrassing position and decided to go and make another drink for himself. He noticed that her glass was empty too so he reached down to the floor and picked it up. As he got up from the armchair, he heard her say "Wait!" while she also got up from the floor cushions. He stood, waiting, as Rupali walked towards the entrance door of the apartment and picked up the shoulder bag that she had left in the corner.

She came back, sat down and began to rummage through the contents of the satchel. Hans asked her if she'd like another drink, wondering why she had told him to wait. When she nodded her head affirmatively, he turned and headed back to his kitchen where he made the next round of drinks. He was still reprimanding himself for forcing the conversation along the lines that he did, thinking he had been unnecessarily aggressive in his pursuit. But the truth was he was getting aroused and the questions he had asked titillated him further; he was being selfish.

When he got back to the living room and stood in front of Rupali, he extended his arm to hand over her glass. She took it from him and placed it on the floor on her left, then returned her attention to the gadget she had in her hand. Just as he was stepping away, she patted the cushion next to her, signalling for Hans to sit beside her. She had a large format, maybe 15cm diagonal, smartphone and was swiping through the various app screens. He took a sip of his drink and waited till she seemed to have found what she was looking for.

She handed him her phone and put her hands over her face, resting it on her knees. Hans saw a video playing on the screen; it was extremely shaky and shot in a dark room. After a few seconds, the camera phone seemed to have been steadied and a woman came into view. It was still dark but he saw a deep brown complexioned woman wearing a pale powder-blue brassiere; she clearly had large breasts but not of the same size as Rupa or her mother. The woman on screen stood in the centre of the room and was slowly removing what looked like pyjama bottoms, revealing a pair of panties that matched her bra.

The camera apparently shook again as the woman on screen dropped to her knees and crawled towards the person holding the phone. Although the lighting was still poor, Hans could now discern clearly the face; large eyes, long flowing open hair, and lips that were glossed with a burgundy colour. The protagonist in the video clip then removed her bra, unhooking it from behind her, till she exposed her breasts and flung away the undergarment. Then she came forward still closer to the lens till a violent shaking of the camera obscured any coherent visuals, but the sound of girls giggling was clearly audible.

The vid finished and the next one automatically started. Hans, despite all his sexual experience and worldliness, was hugely turned on by the surreptitious nature of the video; in stunned silence his eyes stayed glued to the phone screen. The electrifying tingle in his testicles and the gradual swelling of his penis made him a little uncomfortable but he couldn't take his eyes away from what he was watching. This time the camera had been held steady; perhaps they had found a place to rest the phone against something while filming. He saw a set of luscious wet lips suck in a dark brown nipple, then the tip of a tongue circle around it before the front teeth gently nibbled on the protruding nub. But it was a short 26 seconds clip that ended abruptly.

He was sure Rupali was showing him snippets of her dalliance with Sunita, her girlfriend, but was unsure of which one of the women was whom. He didn't know how autoplay worked without swiping on her phone but didn't waste too much time thinking about that; instead he was now riveted by the third clip which had begun. Once again the camera had been steady, placed somewhere at a slight angle to the video's subject. He saw the naked breasts and dark areolae, the navel, a considerably hairy patch of pubic hair, and the thighs of a woman as she walked slowly forward. Then, when she was close, a hand appeared from one side of the screen and the fingers riffled through the hirsute bush, furrowing a gap through it till the fingertips touched the inner labia. Using thumb and forefinger, the pussy lips were parted to reveal the deep pink tissue and the entrance to a vagina.

After that, it was impossible to see anything as a face approached the cunt and apparently the other woman began kissing the gash because he heard a loud groan from the phone speakers. All he could see was the back of a head which covered the entire screen. The sounds of low hollow moaning overshadowed both the music in the living room as well as the sound of the rain outside, as the video ran its course over the next minute and a half. Then the display went blank and dark.

Even though Rupali was not looking at the recordings, her head still buried in her hands, she could obviously hear the audio; her embarrassment was almost painful and she regretted showing Hans the films. He, sensing this, felt a sudden protectiveness and wanted to comfort her; alleviate the humiliation and shame she was probably going through. He placed the phone on the floor to his right and reached out to her on his left, his hand burrowing between her face and her folded knees. He took hold of one hand and pulled it down to the cushion, holding it between them. He felt her fingers curl around his and hold on with a tight grip, her face still obscured over one hand and her skirt.

He had spent about six minutes looking at the footage; now he reached for his drink and took a large gulp of gin. Then twisting his neck to the left, he planted a kiss on Rupa's head and remained silent after that, allowing her enough space and time to overcome her unease and bashfulness.

A couple of minutes later just as he was about to reach for his glass again, she withdrew her hand from his, turned sideways and threw her arms around his neck. She still wasn't looking at him though; instead she placed her head somewhere between his neck, shoulder and chest and nuzzled against his t-shirt. He wrapped one arm around her waist and placed his other palm on the exposed side of her face, holding her, cradling her, willing her pain to go away. He thought he heard a whimpering sob, maybe even felt her head twitch against his chest, and his heart felt heavy.

Hans let Rupa cuddle against him as he coddled her, hoping she wasn't weeping out of unhappiness. After a sufficient length of time, he tried to raise her face with the palm that rested against her cheek. She complied meekly, finally lifting her head off his chest and looking at him. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were wet. His heart almost broke as he bent down and kissed the tears, whispering "I'm sorry, Rupa. Please don't cry."

Her eyes open, she pulled him down a couple of inches and placed her lips gently on his. She moved her mouth over his, licking his lips and kissing him delicately before resting her cheek on his broad chest again. He still held on to her waist, his arm protectively wrapped around the narrow midriff as he bussed her head and said, "Your girlfriend is the luckiest girl on the planet, I wish I could be in her place."

He heard her giggle as she snapped away from him and punched him playfully on his torso. She sat back against the wall, wiped her face with the hem of her skirt and reached out for her drink. "You're very naughty, Hans bhaiya," she said as she took a sip of her cocktail, "but also very handsome, and a good man."

Hans still didn't know if she was an avowed lesbian or not; he didn't really want to know but a sneaky hope that crept into his mind was the wish that she was at least bisexual. Not that he had any machiavellian scheme to get her into bed with him, but still....

They sat listening to the calming music and the continuous patter of the rain. His arm was still around her waist and his fingers moved in a lazy rub over her shirt. She leaned into him as they sat next to each other, sipping their drinks. Still holding a glass in her left hand, she unbent her knees and stretched out her legs along the floor; then rested her head on his biceps. Hans felt the soft tickle of her hair on his clean shaven face as he raised his arm and dragged his hand from her waist to her shoulder and neck. He caressed her over the cotton fabric she was wearing before he felt the bare skin of her neck.

Tracing a finger slowly just beneath the collar, he felt the soft fuzz of her tiny vellus hair at the nape of her neck, sending a sudden shiver down her spine. Hans continued stroking with his fingers and gradually worked them across increasing inches of her skin till his arm was bent at the elbow and crooked around her neck. His hand dipped a little lower, between the opening of her shirt, and felt the beginning swell of her bosom.

Both were sitting with their legs outstretched but instinctively, and simultaneously, they twisted at the waist and faced each other. She found his mouth with her lips as Hans brought his right hand to her front and slid it along her midriff where the shirt was trussed. Their kiss was full of longing and hidden desire; mouths open, they immediately pushed their tongues forward and tasted the warmth inside, tinged with a hint of gin and tonic and lime. Neither of them were surprised at the passion that overtook them at that moment; or maybe they just weren't thinking too coherently.

As their lips osculated and their tongues flagellated one another's, Hans moved his hand upwards to her armpit when she threw an arm around his neck. He felt the bulge of her breast against his palm and began to stroke it from the outside in, feeling the cloth and the outline of her brassiere inside. He did none of it consciously but as their ardent kissing continued, their breathing getting louder, his hand caressed the entire orb of her left mammary. Her nipples hardened and pushed against the clothing material, feeling the pressure of his hand as it cast about over the fullness of her boob.

Rupali pulled him fervently against her and kissed deeply when Hans slid his hand through the open top half of her shirt and into the demi-cup bra and found her nipple barely an inch from the edging. He took it between his thumb and forefinger, twirling the stony hardness before groping and kneading the full breast. His hand, though strong and very masculine, was gentle on her chest as she came up for breath. He pushed aside the open front of her shirt and heard another button snap open; then pulling down the bra cup, he scooped out her entire left breast.

Unable to hold back, he held up her bust in the cup of his palm and lowered his head till his lips found the protuberant nipple. He sucked its firmness into his mouth and lashed it with his tongue, delirious at the unusual length of her papilla. Rupali threw her head back against the wall behind her and ploughed her fingers into the long thick black curls of his hair. She moaned softly as the heat of her passion transitioned to a more sublime bouquet of libidinous sensations.

It felt so different compared to when Sunita sucked her tits; there was pleasure in both the experiences but there was something more transcendent about Hans' body against hers, something far more erotic. She thought of how she had never been with a man before and yet, this all seemed so natural. She cradled his head against her bosom while he sucked; with her other hand she pushed aside the shirt flaps and lowered the right cup of brassiere. While Hans continued to engulf her other breast with his mouth, she played with the newly exposed nipple, allowing the thrill and tingle to wash over her.