The Assistant Manager’s Story

A few years ago I relocated to another part of the country. I found a wonderful location in the foothills, about 15 miles outside the town, and I built a small and cosy farmhouse. While the farmhouse was under construction, I and my wife moved into a rented place in the town. I transferred my account from my previous city to the same bank's local branch. Being a small town branch it provided very personalized services. The bank would send one of their officers to pick up the cheques for deposit and many other such services.

There was this young assistant bank manager who was quite friendly and very efficient in carrying out the services asked for. Being a small branch in a small place, many a times she would herself come home with the documents required for signature.

The assistant bank manager, Nisha Krishnan, took extra care in caring for my account. Nisha would have coffee with my wife while I went through the documents. She became quite friendly with me and my wife. At times when I happened to visit the branch, I would invite Nisha out for a cup of coffee, and time permitting she would accept the invitation.

The farmhouse was completed in a record 6 months, barring some fittings here and there. We moved in and were settling down when my wife had to leave for Europe to attend to her ailing sister. She planned to be away for a couple of weeks only but it stretched to more than two months.

I had to come to town to pick up provisions and other items required and this was a weekly routine. I would invite Nisha for coffee and invariably she would accept. This became a regular Saturday afternoon feature in our lives. There was no need to ask her out. It was expected that I would be outside the bank at 2:30 in the afternoon and she would join me within a few minutes. If for some reason she couldn't make it she would call, but this rarely happened.

We would drive to any nearby coffee shop and enjoy a cup or two each. We talked about her. She told me about her college life and how she came to join the bank. The bits and pieces of her life came together over a few weeks. Nisha, who at 22 married a college friend, divorced him within 3 months.

"He was very friendly and caring during our time at college. This is what drew me to him. After our marriage my life turned completely upside down. On the first night of our marriage I saw the other side of him. He was totally uncaring for my feelings. He was a brute. He brutalized me that night. It was as if a dog had found a bone and wouldn't stop gnawing and biting till he totally destroyed it."

She paused as she took a sip. Her eyes were teary, but she was in control. After all this was all in the past, around 2 years back.

At another meeting in another coffee shop: "I spoke to my mother-in-law and she was totally unconcerned. 'That's the lot of women,' was her response. I realized that she also spent a similar married life. I tried to talk to my husband but it was a losing battle. One day I decided I'll not spend the rest of my life in a way."

She paused, thinking about those days. I put my hand on hers and squeezed in sympathy. She smiled in thanks. "I walked out one afternoon while my husband was at work. My mother-in-law tried to stop me, but I packed all my belongings, called a taxi, and went to my parents' home."

She paused, and then resumed, "I am very lucky. My parents supported me fully. Till then I hadn't spoken to my parents about my ordeal. I spent the night talking to my mother and we cried a lot. I was all of 22. Very young and very inexperienced about what life can dish out. Ours was a very loving family, just my parents and me."

Her eyes were glistening with tears. I squeezed her hand and caressed it. She continued, "My husband called the next morning. He didn't bother the previous evening, probably thinking I'd come running back if he ignored me. He had a huge ego and a very high degree of self importance."

Knowing Nisha I knew she was not exaggerating. "My father spoke with him and told him I was indisposed and would call him later. My parents and I had a discussion. I told them that I could never go back to that house and that I wanted a divorce. They respected my decision."

Another time: "Tell me, Nisha. Was your divorce difficult?"

"Yes, very. Not the actual proceedings in court. But the pressure on me was tremendous to go back to my husband's house. My husband's family was very conservative. Divorce was something unheard of. Women were supposed to suffer in silence. On top of that it was me, a female, who walked out and was seeking a divorce! That was intolerable. Their ego could not take it. They wanted me back at all costs. I refused to see my husband or any one from his and his extended family. My father stood like a rock, fighting against all pressures, never once exposing me to any of it."

Tears flowed down her cheeks. I squeezed her hand in sympathy and handed her my handkerchief. She accepted gratefully, wiped her tears and said softly, "Let's go."

She continued in our next meeting: "I have never spoken about my divorce to anyone before. I don't know why I feel very comfortable talking to you. It's as if you understand." She held my hand and I engulfed her small hand in both of mine.

"They brought in the so-called self-appointed leaders of our caste. They told my father divorce was not an option as no one in our caste has ever divorced. My father said, 'It's the life of my daughter. She will never go back to the house of this animal. For your information, my daughter was examined, the day after she returned home, by a very eminent gynaecologist.' He named this doctor and they all shut up. 'The report is so disturbing and the gynaecologist herself was shocked. I'll advise you not to interfere and let me proceed the way I want to.' These people threatened that our family would be excommunicated from our community. My father stood strong."

Tears flowed again. I squeezed her hands. "Divorce happened. My father engaged a very experienced divorce lawyer. I was lucky to be free within three months. Then we relocated to this town making a clean break with our past and that city."

There was silence. "I'd like to meet your father. Such a strong person who stood by you and didn't care a damn for his caste and community." "He's no more. He had a bad heart. Within a year of our relocating here he passed away."

"Oh! baby. I'm sorry to hear that." I caressed her hand.

"We're fine now. Both my mother and me. We have a small house and a small and peaceful life. My job keeps us comfortable."

That was Nisha's story. Sad, but so true of many girls living in small towns in India. Nisha was one of the lucky ones.

Our weekly coffee continued and I felt attracted towards Nisha. Of course, I was happily married and wouldn't do anything to spoil my friendship with Nisha. One day she said, "I always thought all men are dogs. They have no respect for women." She looked at me and said, "Until I met you and realized I was wrong. You have been a wonderful friend. Thanks for just being there." *****

I had to come to town on a weekday and stopped by a restaurant for a spot of lunch. I was happily surprised to see Nisha there with a young girl. She was also happy to see me. She introduced me to this young girl, who seemed all of 15 years old. I was shocked by the reaction I felt. I was instantly attracted sexually to this little girl and there was a stirring.

"This is Neha. She's the daughter of my mother's friend. It was her 18th birthday last month and I had promised to get her a gift of her choice. That didn't happen and so this lunch in lieu of that."

I turned to Neha and said, "A belated happy birthday to you, sweetheart. This lunch is on me. Nisha, you can let her have that gift of her choice later."

Neha perked up immediately. Nisha saw that and said, "No, Neha. That gift will remain pending till the right time."

"What gift?" I asked.

Nisha faltered and said, "No, nothing. Just some...er...clothes she wanted." Neha blushed. I kept quiet.

We ordered food and had juice while we waited. Nisha excused herself to freshen up. I looked at Neha and said, "Which clothes are you so keen to have, Neha. Why is Nisha reluctant to get them for you?"

She reddened, "No, nothing."

"C'mon, tell me. Maybe I can convince her to change her mind."

Thinking she may after all be able to acquire what she desired, Neha blurted out, "They are some under garments," and reddened in embarrassment.

"Oh! You mean bra and panty?" I was being very naughty. Here she was, all of 18 and me in my middle 40s. In India these things are still not discussed openly between opposite sexes, and I was practically a stranger.

She reddened more and whispered, "Yes."

'Oh! That's difficult discussing with Nisha. OK, this is what we'll do. I'll buy them for you. If you keep it a secret. Nisha must never know, otherwise she'll be very annoyed, OK?"

"No, I can't take them from you. I hardly know you."

"That's right. We hardly know each other. Once I gift you a present we become friends, right?"

I convinced her and she agreed to let me buy her the undergarments she so coveted. "Remember, no one must know." She nodded and agreed to meet me at some convenient place next Sunday for shopping.

I don't know why I did it. But I did do it. She was less than half my age and I had the hots for her. I wanted to bed her. She was petite with a lovely pony tail. I could engulf her waist in one span each of my hands, I thought. I was attracted to Nisha but never dreamed of going further. But with Neha ..... there was no logic to what I wanted. I just wanted her, that's all.

We had a nice quiet lunch. I paid the bill and we left. Nisha said, "I have to go back to the bank. Will you please drop her at her house? It's not far."

"Of course, Nisha. No problem."

Nisha hailed a taxi and left, and Neha came with me. "Direct me to your address, sweetheart," I said. Neha was in a chirpy mood, anticipating her gift.

"Tell me, Neha, how will you keep your new bra and panty hidden from your family?"

I deliberately stressed the 'bra and panty' instead of undergarments. She reddened and said, "There's only Mum. Dad works in another city and comes over on weekends. I wash my own br...my own undergarments, and so..."

"That's good," I said and patted her knees and left my hand there, and added, "You've just finished school. What are you doing next?"

She went into what she had planned and I listened quietly. I slowly caressed her knee and moved my hand slightly higher to her thigh. She flexed her thigh muscle and looked at me. I patted her thigh and removed my hand.

"That's good. Which college are you attending?" she went into that and kept talking till we turned into her street. It was a quiet street and not much traffic.

"OK, sweetheart. We'll meet on Sunday. Be on time. We'll have lunch after. Is it OK?" She smiled at me and said, "Thanks for the gift, and let's have lunch together."

"Thank me after you buy the gift, my dear," and patted her shoulder and caressed her cheek. She got out, turned around and smiled at me again. I smiled back and drove away. On the way I thought whether I would succeed in bedding Neha or not.

********

Saturday came around and Nisha called me at 2pm, "We may have to cancel today. I hurt my back."

"What happened, my dear?"

"I was working and my pen fell down. Instead of getting up to pick it, I bent from over the arm of the chair and strained a muscle at the side. I got up slowly and accidentally hit my shoulder on the rack at the back. So here I am with a strained muscle and a shoulder that is paining. I won't be good company today'" she said laughingly.

"Don't worry, just come. I can get rid of your strain and pain."

"Why, what will you do.? I'm not visiting any doctor. Doctors are big on my no-no list. A small excuse and they give you an injection!"

"Just come. I promise, no doctor, OK?"

So there she was walking gingerly to my car and I opened the door for her and helped her sit.

"OK, so how will you help?"

"Young lady, you don't know everything about me. I give a very good massage and I guarantee the sprain will disappear in no time. I have a massage table at home."

She looked at me. She knew my wife was away. She had to decide if it was sensible going to my home alone. It wasn't that she didn't trust me. It was about appearances. She made a decision, smiled, and said, "Let's go. Let's see how good you are."

So we drove to my farmhouse outside the town. I held her by her hand and elbow as she got up from the seat. She walked into the sitting room and said, "It's lovely."

"Thanks, my dear, come sit her while I prepare."

I led her to a straight backed chair. I brought out my massage table. It was a folding type and I set it up. I went around drawing the curtains and the room became dark and cool. I lit a few scented candles and placed them around the room. Soon the fragrance spread around the room. I lit a few joss sticks. The atmosphere was heady.

I brought a bottle of massage oil.

"What's that?" Nisha asked.

"That's for the massage."

"Oh!" she now realized that she may have to bare her side. I didn't say anything. If she demurred I'll respect her wishes. I brought out a white sheet and said, "Nisha, you'll have to remove your kameez. Cover yourself with this sheet and lie on your stomach on the table. Only if you are comfortable with it."

Ladies usually dress in a Salwar Kameez. It's a very Indian thing. A loose fitting trouser-like lower garment tied with a draw string and an upper garment like a loose (or tight) shirt coming down to the thighs. Girls look very comely in it.

Nisha made a decision and took the sheet from me. I left the room to give her some privacy. I went to my room and changed into a pair of shorts and jersey. I didn't want oil on my trousers. I gave her about 10 minutes and returned to the sitting room. She was lying on the table, the white sheet covering her top half.

I went to the table and said, "All ready?"

She whispered shyly, "Yes."

"I'll warm the oil in my hands before using it." I said to break the silence. I adjusted the sheet to cover her from her shoulders to her feet.

"I'm folding the sheet till below your shoulders, OK?" she nodded.

I rolled the sheet till her shoulders were bared. The skin was clear, without any blemish. I touched her shoulder and she started slightly. She was tensed up, not only because of the pain but also because of an alien hand touching her. I moved my fingers round till she moaned when I touched where it was paining.

"This is where you hit the shelf?" She nodded.

I warmed the oil in my palms and softly placed them on her right shoulder. I massaged lightly from the top to under her shoulder blade. As I worked her shoulder I felt her relaxing under my hands. I was massaging away the tension in her muscles. I massaged her other shoulder. I folded the sheet a further few inches down and massaged her upper back. I could see the islands of tensed muscles. I worked the kinks away and she was mewing as the kinks disappeared and she relaxed.

"How are you feeling, my dear?"

"Very relaxed."

"For that strained muscle in your side I'll have to expose your back. Is it OK?"

She was silent for some time and then nodded. I rolled the sheet till I reached the belt of her salwar. Her back was fully exposed to me, except for the bra strap. Her back was blemish less. I raised her arms and put them under her head. I warmed the oil and massaged her side, from under her arm pits to where the salwar was tied with the draw string. I pressed the palms down followed by the thumbs. She was moaning at the pressure. I worked on her sides till the strain reduced and then disappeared.

She was moaning softly. "How's the pain on your side, my dear?"

"I'm feeling the relief."

"Shall I do your back?"

She thought for a while and whispered, "Yes, please."

"I'll have to.....so the oil doesn't stain the fabric," and I unhooked the bra and lay the straps at her side. She gasped softly. I warmed the oil and applied to where the straps had left indentations on her back. She sighed in relief as I massaged her back. I massaged from her shoulders down to her waist. Then from her right side to her left. She had small breasts but some of the skin was pressed and showing at the sides. As I moved my hands from the right to the left, my fingers touched the sides of her breasts and she shuddered. She was tensed but slowly relaxed. I kept on working on her back and under her arms till she was completely relaxed. I hooked her bra back and she gasped again.

Her eyes were closed and her cheeks were reddish. I put my mouth next to her ears and whispered, "Was it OK, my dear." My hot breath on her cheeks and ears reddened her cheeks further and she was breathing heavily. She whispered back, "Yessss. It was beautiful."

"Shall I massage your legs, too, dear? I can also give your front a full massage, if you agree."

She seemed to be half aroused. Probably no man had touched her since she left her husband. The atmosphere, the scented candles, the massage and the loving touch of a man was playing havoc with her emotions.

She whispered, her eyes tightly closed, "OK."

I rolled the sheet up to cover her back. She was fully covered again. I put her hands at her side.

"I have to remove your salwar to do your legs, dear. Will you be comfortable?"

She was quiet for a moment and whispered, "OK."

I put my hands at her right hip and turned her on her side just to pull her draw string loose. She gasped loudly. "Hush, my dear. Nothing to worry," and I caressed her back.

I put my hands under the sheet and holding her hips raised her ass a bit to pull the salwar down, past her ass. I pressed her ass down and she moaned as my hands pressed her panty clad ass down.

I held the legs of the salwar and jerked it off her legs. Now my lovely Nisha was only clad in her bra and panty under the sheet. I folded the sheet up till her knees. I warmed the oil and massaged her feet and her soles. She moaned as my thumb pressed her sole. I caressed her feet lovingly and she moaned. I did both her feet and Nisha was moaning with pleasure and mewing. I caressed her calves and she bucked her ass. I massaged away all the tense spots in her calves. I further rolled the sheet up till just below her panty. She was totally exposed from her upper thighs down. Her thighs were strong and clear of any blemish.

I warmed more oil in my hands and started to massage her right thigh, from just below her panty down to her knees. She was moaning and writhing with the feelings of passion. I caressed her thigh repeatedly and she was moaning.

"Are you feeling relaxed, my dear."

She couldn't speak but nodded.

"Shall I continue, sweetheart?"

She whispered, "Yesss."

I knew she was in the throes of passion and this was the first time her emotions were in an upheaval.

I massaged her other thigh. Then I said, "Relax, baby," and unhooked her bra again. She just whimpered, so far gone she was.

"Turn around, baby."

She turned around under the sheet. Her bra was askew, but she her top half was still covered with the sheet. Her lower half was covered by her panty only. I bent her knees and put her feet flat on the bed. Her knees spread and I could see the wetness on the crotch of her panty. I warmed more oil and pressed my hand from her right knee down her thighs. When my hand reached her upper thigh my fingers brushed against her crotch. She bucked and moaned. I moved back up from the back of her thigh to the back of her knee. Every time my hand went down my fingers brushed her crotch and she whimpered.

"Are you comfortable, my darling," I whispered, as my fingers touched her crotch again.