Hans' Maids - Pt. 02: The Young One

When Hans realised that Rupa's other breast was also free, he pushed her hand away from it and transferred his mouth to her right. In doing so, he had to readjust his position so he twisted more at the waist, raising his hips off the cushioned floor and almost collapsed on top of her. Both his hands were at her boobs, one massaging the breasts and the other scooping her teat into his mouth. He had lost all rational thought as he devoured her massive boobs, an undiluted ardour overtaking him. He pawed, clawed, and nursed at her tits for a long time while she nestled his head in her arms and against her chest.

His fervour wasn't diminishing; still suckling at her breast, he manoeuvred his body and reached out one arm down her outstretched legs and found the exposed knee. Sliding his hand upwards, he felt the smooth lines of her thigh muscles as he slid his fingers under the hem of her shirt. He stroked the outside of her thigh a few times before moving his palm to the highly sensitive inside and heard Rupa groan. His fingers skated up and down till they touched the edge of her panties, and then he placed his hand on her crotch. Through the soft texture of her underwear, he felt the spongy tussock-like mound of her pubic hair.

Hans used a finger to probe below her mons pubis and felt the wetness of her panties. He used a fingertip to dredge along the sodden part of her underwear till he was rubbing along the folds of her inner pussy lips. Rupali was in the throes of a new ecstasy even as Hans continued to suck on her tits. Her hips squirmed as he increased the pressure of his finger over the steeped crotch, and groaned loudly when he found her erect clitoris. He had created a groove in her panties as he creased the line in her vulva, rubbing over the fabric but still finding the right spots.

He then snuck a finger into the elastic waistband of her undergarment and felt the fringe of her pussy hair. He pushed his hand in further and palmed the grassy mass of hirsuteness; it felt controlled and trimmed, not overgrown and wild. But the moment he pushed his fingers lower, he heard Rupa gasp loudly and felt her hand grip his wrist. "No, Bhaiya," he heard her whisper, "not there, not now." He paused for a few seconds before she implored him, saying "Please!"

It was like his unbridled passion had suddenly come up against a brick wall. Hans was confused, worried, and a bit miffed. It felt like she had led him on, but of course that wasn't true; they were young and the fires raged in both their bodies. But for the moment, Rupali drew his hand out from inside her panties and brought it to her chest, placing it in the valley between her breasts. She turned and looked at his forlorn face, kissed him on his stern jawline and reached out for her drink. The ice had melted and the slice of lemon floated on the surface; she took a sip and looked back at him. She took another swallow of the gin and placed the glass on the floor, covering the ring of condensate water that had formed beneath the base of the tumbler.

***

Although younger than Hans, she was more controlled; she wanted her 'making out' with him just as much as he did, if not more. But there was a certain maturity in her behaviour which Hans refused to see. She didn't want to rush into things without being absolutely certain and aware of her actions and decisions. It wasn't as though she was contemplating a long term relationship with him, but she knew that she wanted to have sex, real sex, with him. She just wanted to be sure.

And there was another matter as well. "Bhaiya, may I use your bathroom please. I want to have a shower."

Hans collected his thoughts and responded, "Yes, of course. You know where everything is, right?" He wanted to be polite and caring; he did value their blossoming friendship but he was still a bit chagrined at the way she had stopped his sexual profligacy. They stood up together, Rupali pulling up the cups of her brassiere and arranging them around her breasts. Hans sat down on the armchair, his mind still a little befuddled while she walked out of the living room and into the washroom, shutting the door behind her.

As Rupali undressed and hung her clothes and undergarments on pegs behind the door, she was contemplating the afternoon. She felt that the moment she had set eyes on him when she came into the house, she had fallen in love with him despite the shaving foam slathered over half his face. And as the day progressed, perhaps instigated by the alcohol, her desire for him kept increasing. She was reminded of how aroused she had gotten as she was hanging up her panties; the crotch was soaked with her secretions leaving a sticky patch on the gusset.

She walked into the shower cabinet, spent half a minute figuring out the controls and then turned on the water. It was tepid but grew warmer over the next few seconds as she stood under the spray. She took the shower gel from a small shelf and rubbed it over her body, starting from her neck and chest going all the way down to her ankles in an organised fashion. She squeezed out some more and lathered her pussy hair and her buttocks, rubbing along the crack of her arse. She used the soap around her anus and rimmed it with her finger. After rinsing her entire body and washing off the froth under the shower, she took a handheld spray-head and directed the water towards her cunt, unfolding the labia and using a finger delicately to wipe over the folds.

She could still feel the gumminess in her genitalia before the water washed it clean. Rupali turned off the shower and stepped out of the stall, reaching for one of the fresh towels on the rack; she knew that Mondays were bed and bath linen washing days so she'd keep it in the basket after using it. She started drying herself from neck to toe, having managed to keep her hair relatively dry. Stepping towards the large mirror above the washbasin, she wiped the fog off its surface and looked at her reflection while still towelling herself.

She knew her body was very desirable; every second boy in her college seemed to be constantly reminding her of that either by commenting or just ogling. Her large breasts were firm and heavy, the nipples centred on wide brown haloes of her aureolas. The wasplike waist flared to voluptuous hips, sturdy thighs tapering down to her knees and down to her feet. She looked at her deep belly-button and the large inverted triangle of her pussy hair; her girlfriend had trimmed it with a pair of scissors almost two months ago. Now, the hair had grown back to almost an inch long but the thatch still looked neat and coiffed. She carefully pulled apart her labium and dabbed a corner of the towel, giving her cunt a final cleanse.

Reaching out for the clothes hanging behind the bathroom door, she decided she didn't want to wear her smudged panties and stepped directly into her long skirt. The hem was still a little damp because of her walk across the wet grass of the meadow that morning, but that couldn't be helped. Deciding against the brassiere as well, she put on her white collared shirt and buttoned up the front, leaving only the neck button open. Then she unwound the band that held her ponytail and tidied her hair, leaving it open to fall to her waist as she slipped the elastic hair-tie around her wrist. Feeling fresh and renewed, she stepped out of the bathroom and across the narrow aisle into the living area.

She didn't see Hans and wondered if he was still upset with her. A timepiece on the low table, under the 32" TV, told her it was almost 5:00 pm; where had the time flown, she wondered. She saw their drinks glasses lying on the floor; the alcoholic buzz had faded and she was clear-headed although she thought of how enjoyable it had been. Spying Hans sitting in his favourite spot outside on the balcony, she headed towards him knowing she didn't want to go home this evening. Since her mother and sister were both out of town, she would normally have had Sunita coming over but if Hans would let her stay, she would.

She walked out to the verandah, took two steps and stood next to where Hans was sitting on his cane chair. She heard him inhale a long, deep breath as he curled his arm around her thighs and said "Mmmmm! you smell heavenly, Rupa." She knew his mood was fine now. They stared out into the meadow; it had stopped raining but dark clouds still hung heavy in the sky. She knew the stoppage was only a temporary respite; the rain would return soon.

Still with his arm around her thighs as she stood next to him on the left, Hans leaned over the arm-rest of his chair and kissed Rupali's hip as his hands stroked her over the skirt. She placed her hand on the back of his neck, fingers toying with the curls of jet black hair. Although the sun wouldn't technically set for another 90 minutes, it was already almost dark outside as they heard a roll of thunder rumble across the heavens. Even the temperature had dropped to a more comfortable 25 degrees as also had the humidity to more tolerable levels.

Hans was caressing Rupa's left limb, running his palm lightly up and down from her hips to her ankle and back up again while she twirled his hair idly with her fingers. A couple of minutes later, when he was stroking from foot to thigh, he let his hand slip below the hem of her long skirt and slid his fingers in a slow spidery crawl up her calf to the back of her knee. Her legs quivered as she felt his touch continue up along her thigh till he reached her hip, the skirt hooked over his arm. Instinctively, out of a sense of modesty no doubt, she held down the front of her dress so that it didn't completely expose her lower half.

It felt so lurid and wicked to her as she tried to stand still; considering she'd never in her life been with a man till just a few hours ago, and now she was allowing this handsome foreign devil to entice her into the erotic unknown. She felt his hand reach up to the gluteal fold of her left buttock and pause briefly; then, his hand went over the curve of her arse till his palm caressed her bum. He moved his hand over the rounded contour, touching all around the smooth spheroid before coming down the back of her thigh to her knee-pit. Quivers of euphoric lubricity ran the length of her lower limbs as Hans' feather touch tortured her.

And then Rupali felt his hand rise again, but this time along the inside of her thighs. The sensitivity and eroticism was excruciating as his fingers crept up her right leg and the back of his hand grazed the left limb. She had never felt such a salacious tingling in her body as she felt his fingers approach her vulva. The last time she had stopped him from touching her cunt for two reasons: bashfulness and hygiene. But this time she didn't know if she could bear the physical pleasure and keep standing; she feared her knees may buckle and cause her to collapse.

When Hans's fingers reached her crotch and she felt him probe around the slick wet gash, Rupa squirmed and writhed and emanated a squeal that surprised even her. She tried to lower her skirt and push his hand away in a sudden uncontrollable gesture with her hands. After a second or two of struggle, he let her off the hook and removed his hand, allowing the skirt to unfurl and cover her legs.

Hans then placed his left arm around her waist, and taking her wrist in his other hand, he brought her in front of him. Twisting her around, he pulled her down to his lap where she settled sideways across his thighs and flung her arm around his neck. She leaned in to him, his arm still around her waist as she cradled herself between his body and the armrest of his chair.

"Will you let me see you naked, Rupa?" Hans whispered into her ear as he nibbled gently on her earlobe. She moaned by way of response as he rubbed a finger across her lips, feeling the soft fullness. His hand slowly descended past her chin to her neck and then sought out the top button of her shirt. He undid one, and then the next, realising that she had not put on a bra after her shower. He ran his hand over the shirt and found her nipple easily as the erect nub thrust against the fabric.

While Hans fondled her breasts and tweaked her teats tenderly, they talked of other things because Rupa didn't want the conversation to veer into areas that she was still embarrassed talking about. This time she asked him about his life; his job, his family, his home. He happily told her whatever she wanted to know, filling her in on his background, his parents, his college, his work, and his strong desire to return to his headquarters and get on with his career.

"Do you ever feel homesick?" she asked Hans as she lovingly traced his jawline and chin with fingers.

"Sometimes, yes," he said, "but there isn't much to miss, really."

"I think I'll be very homesick if I leave this town," Rupa told him. She talked about how she had grown up; as a child when the place was just a village, and about how it had developed in the last two decades. "Companies like yours came and helped us build the infrastructure, so now we have a more developed lifestyle."

Hans had meanwhile pushed his hand under her shirt and was fondling her wonderfully buxom tits; her nipples were hard and they were both getting increasingly aroused. Yet, by some unspoken mutual understanding, they continued a parallel conversation that allowed them to prolong the platonic state of happiness they were in.

After a lengthy conversation about myriad topics, they fell into a silence as their bodies shifted focus to the physical build-up that crept upon them.

Hans finally asked in a whisper that was barely audible, "I know you said you've never made love to a man before, but do you not want to?"

She knew what he was leading up to, and she knew that she wanted him desperately too. In an even quieter whisper, she replied "I'm scared. I have never wanted to do anything with the boys in this town or in my college, but with you I know I want to."

"Why are you scared?" Hans asked. They were speaking very softly, but they could hear each other only because their faces were inches apart.

Rupa was shy but felt a lot more at ease in his arms than she had earlier in the afternoon. With her face against his t-shirt, she mumbled "I don't know. I think it may be painful; what if the man is very big?"

Hans laughed softly and Rupa, suddenly very bashful, hit him puckishly on his chest as she snuggled even closer against him.

"You mean like me?" he asked mischievously. Of course, at 6'2" and brawny, he was a big man but there was also innuendo in his statement, an allusion to his eight-inch penis (at least while erect.)

"Nnnnnh!" she squiggled, "You know what I mean."

They left it at that for a few minutes before Hans asked, "Rupa, have you ever seen a man's penis?"

"No!" she said rather vehemently, and then in a softer tone, "No, I haven't."

"Do you want to?"

Rupali didn't answer the question; instead, she pushed her hand under the hem of his Lacoste t-shirt and slid her palm over his bare skin. All this while, she had allowed Hans to explore certain parts of her body and had revelled in the sensations that his touch had brought about. Apart from the brief kisses she had given him, and the gentle stroking of his face, she was now moving into uncharted territory. She actually had her hand on a man's abdomen, bare skin against her palm.

She felt the strength and masculinity of his body as her hand roamed across his abdominal muscles and his broad chest. It was not hairy like she had imagined all men to be; there was only a light fuzz growing down the centre but his musculature was very apparent to her touch. Over the next ten minutes, they stayed silent as she sat on his lap, cradled by him; his hands were still inside her shirt over her boobs but he was still. Rupa realised that he wasn't groping or massaging her tits, nor playing with her nipples even though his hand covered much of her bosom. She kept slowly stroking the sinews of his physique till she felt his nipples.

They were tiny but strangely erect, she thought. His head was thrown back, eyes shut, and lips slightly parted; there was a look of serenity on his face and Rupa realised how much he was enjoying her touch. She felt a pang of guilt when it struck her that she had done nothing to give him pleasure the way he had to her, or like she did to her girlfriend.

She pushed his t-shirt up as far as it would go, bunching the folds near his neck, and lowered her face to his chest. She kissed each of his nipples, then flicked one of them with the tip of her tongue and gently nibbled at hit. Her hand was holding his shirt in place but she used the fingers on his other nipple, rubbing over and pinching the little protrusion. Her other hand rested on his flat stomach, feeling a twitching ripple every once in a while.

When a sudden thunderclap rent the quiet ambience and a bolt of lightning flashed behind her, she squealed and hugged him tight. Although every year during her life so far, she had experienced the various moods of the monsoon season, she never quite got used to thunder and lightning. She was clinging on to Hans' neck, scared to look back over her shoulder, when a precipitous downpour came cascading down. He had opened his eyes with a jolt when he heard the crack of the firebolt and hugged Rupa tight to his body. Judging from previous experience, he knew that the westerly breeze would slant the rain into the balcony, drenching everything including themselves. The temperature too had suddenly dropped.

Hans took a few seconds to button up Rupali's shirt before easing her off his lap; they stood up together and walked back into the living room, shutting the door behind them. She sat down timidly on the floor cushions while he opened one window above her head, knowing the rain wouldn't reach right across the breadth of the verandah. He looked at her and saw she was still a little shaken. Picking up their drinks glasses from the floor he headed to the kitchen and left them in the sink, taking a dry washcloth on his way back.

While he was wiping the small puddles of water that had pooled at the base of the tumblers, Rupa reached out for the rag and said, "That's my job, Bhaiya; give it to me." She wiped the floor and stood up, going to the kitchen while Hans sat down on a chair and picked up his tablet device. The music on Spotify had stopped but he quickly scanned his emails to make sure nothing required his attention. He looked at the top left corner of his screen and saw that the time was 6:36 pm and that the battery had a remaining charge of only 4%. He got the charger from his bedroom and plugged it in to a wall socket, then connected it to his tablet on the table below his TV.

"I've made some sandwiches which you can eat whenever you are hungry, Bhaiya. Sorry, I didn't get time to cook a proper meal," she said impishly as she walked back to the drawing room. She switched on a pedestal lamp and sat down on the floor cushions looking up at him, a smile still playing on the corners of her mouth.

He was ambling around the room, pondering how the momentum of the afternoon seemed to have disappeared so abruptly. He wondered if she was planning to go back to her home; after all, she did have a large umbrella.

But he shook himself out of the black mood that was descending and said "I'm going to take a quick shower and then we're going to have some more drinks." He didn't wait for a response from Rupali; just turned around and went straight into the bathroom. He had a quick cold shower, thinking of how his libido had gone through a roller-coaster of ups and downs that day. But he had to admit to himself he had never quite wanted a woman sexually as much as he desired Rupa.

***

He finished his shower, dried himself, wrapped the towel around his waist and went to his bedroom where he slipped into a fresh set of loungewear; a half-sleeved top and soft cotton jammies. Then, without stopping to look into the living room, he went to the kitchen and made three drinks; two Johnnie Walker scotch whiskies on ice with a dash of water, and one dark Old Monk rum. He cupped the whiskies in one broad palm and carried them with the rum in his other hand back to where Rupali was still sitting. She looked up at him as he entered, a pensive expression on her face.