Udipi Dare

Note: Udipi is a kind of sub-cuisine of India. In Bombay, udipi restaurants are cheap and ubiquitous, and are known for their prompt delivery.

My wife gave me the best birthday gift ever when I was 10,000 miles away from her. And it was a total surprise. For me. For her too, it was partly surprising. Let me explain.

I was in Atlanta for a short term project. She was in Bombay. We were on Skype that day like almost everyday. I was up at 5 AM to get ready to go to work after talking to her. In India, it was 2:30 PM. We had been online for about 15 minutes. She had sung happy birthday for me and we had exchanged notes about our days. She was working from home that day. Had finished up a call a while back and had ordered food from our usual udipi delivery place for a late lunch.

"Anyway, I haven't showered all day and it's hot so I feel sticky. I'll just take a quick shower. Won't be five minutes. Stay there."

"Wait, won't the....."

I started to remind her about the food she had told me she had ordered. But she kept the laptop on the couch and was gone. So I sat there waiting for her to return. I stared at the screen for a while. The camera was pointed towards the living room passage that led to the front door. In a couple of minutes I got bored so I changed windows and started checking Google News.

That's when there was a sound of the doorbell ringing from the speakers so I switched back to Skype.

"Coming!" I heard her say off camera.

I watched the screen nonchalantly, making a note to tell her that she had rushed away before I could remind her about the food. And then I sat up straight. Bolt upright!

My wife scampered towards the door wrapped in a big towel, her hair completely wet. That's when suspicion began to creep up on me. Was she? Could she? Nahhh! Whenever I had suggested it in the past, she had summarily shot me down.

She adjusted the towel, tucked it under her arm and opened the door. It was the usual delivery guy, a scrawny old man in a wifebeater and discolored khakhi shorts. He seemd a little taken aback seeing her in a towel. But he didn't say anything. He offered her what looked like two pretty big bags of food. Why did she need all that food.

"Thank you." she said, taking one bag in each hand. Then she turned around and rapidly started walking towards the couch. I saw her move her left arm slightly. And sure enough. It happened. The towel started to unravel.

"Oh no!" she said loudly and made it seem like she was trying to stop it from falling. But there were bags in both her hands. Ah, now I understood the reason behind the big order. So it was clearly by design. The towel fell around her feet.

The old man's eyes had gone as wide as TV screens and his mouth was open as he stared at the naked ass and back of my wife.

She seemed to have rehearsed the whole thing because she put on a very convincing act of being stunned by the situation. She bent down in the knee and "tried" to pick up the towel. But of course, there was a bag of food in her hand. It slipped out and a bunch of smaller plastic bags rolled out. The udipi place wasn't fancy enough to afford boxes so they sent curries and such in plastic bags tied with strings.

"Shit!" she said, and instinctively tried to stop one of the rolling bags with her left foot.

The foot landed on the bag instead and she slipped and started falling. Plus the bag burst and I saw sambar spread everywhere on the carpet. She brought her hands forward to break the fall, forgetting that the other bag was in her right hand. So she fell on her hands and knees but her right knee landed on top of the bag. The weight burst the smaller curry bags inside it too. And a second later, my wife was on all fours, naked, with a small puddle of various curries all around her.

What was the old delivery guy doing you ask? He was just staring goggle eyed. I doubt he had ever had such an experience. "Pizza dares" may be common in the West but in India, they were almost unheard of. here he was, getting a close look at a beautiful young woman's naked ass and tits.

She started getting up but made the mistake of turning and reaching for the towel before she was fully up. Her foot slipped on the spilled curry and this time she landed flat on her ass, although not hard enough to hurt. Now she was sitting naked, flat on her feet, and facing the old man, giving him a full frontal look at her shaved pussy and her boobs. And I am sure there was curry sticking to her ass. There was silence for a few more seconds as the old man kept staring and my wife now seemed genuinely stunned.

Finally the old man came to his senses and took a couple of tentative steps inside the house,

"Memsaab, are you okay?" he asked, still maintaining a respectful distance.

"Yes, I am fine." she said.

She got on her knees and crawled a few feet, this time mindful not to step in the puddle of food and stood up. The towel was soaked in the curries too.She picked it up and looked at it. Couldn't wrap that around herself now. But she did hold it in front of her to finally stop exhibiting herself to the old man. He politely looked away and turned around.

"How much is it?" she asked, wiping her hands on the towel.

"Huh?"

"The bill. For the food."

"Oh!" he said. "185 rupees."

She finally looked at my camera, smiled and blew a kiss at me. Then she said to me in English (her conversation with the old man had been in Hindi),

"You are getting wayyyyyyyyy more than I had planned."

"What?" the old man asked.

"Nothing." she said to him in Hindi. She reached for her purse and took out two hundred rupees. She walked to the old man and and said, "Here."

He stretched out his hand and she gave him the money.

"Keep the change." she said.

He nodded and started walking out. Before he stepped out the door, he couldn't help but turn around and take a peek. But she was still holding the towel in front of her. He left, she closed the door, and we both started laughing.

THE END