She Stays for the Night: A Forest Department Officer's Unexpected Guest
She stayed for the Night
(Long story, if you want the "good part", scroll down to about the middle. But it may be a little difficult to understand some things, so it's better the reader reads end to end. Thanks for your patience. )
It was getting cold. The sun had begun to set, causing the pleasant winter afternoon to turn into a chilly evening. Paras shivered in his four layered armour, wondering what the ideal thickness of winterwear should be in a cold region like this.He had tried his usual woolens and tshirt combo earlier in the day, and had promptly fled inside to cover himself in two more layers. Layers which made him feel like an overstuffed Santa Claus, but were proving increasingly inadequate in the cold wind which hit him straight in the face.
He had no choice now. Having recently joined the Forest Department and completed their mandatory training course, he found himself packed off to a corner of human civilization. Not a corner actually, considering it was hardly two hours drive from the nearest tourist attraction, and the proximity had allowed a number of seedy hotels to crop up. But they were in the town, from which his quarters were a good four miles away : four miles of narrow and deserted forest road, which he had to traverse every time he wanted some supplies (including liquor and the occassional weed) from the town. Today his supplies were exceptionally heavy, given that there was a weekend coming up, and he'd decided to treat himself to some whisky. As he lugged a large bottle of whisky and two beers, he almost wished he hadn't chosen that day.
But as he'd told himself plenty of times during that rather boring walk, he had no choice now. If it had been afternoon, he could have allowed his tired limbs some respite. Now it was almost four thirty and the sun was almost gone. Not that he was afraid of animals per se - that was an occupational hazard for him. Rather he feared humans, be they tribal dacoits who were known to sometimes waylay merrymakers and partake of everything from weed to the women, or the tourists themselves, who were usually high, and best avoided. Flexing his shoulder muscles, he straightened himself, determined to get over with this unpleasant journey as fast as possible.
But such was not to be. As luck would have it, he realized his muscle flexing had caused the bottles to shift, putting too much strain on one strap, and a large tear was developing. Taking off the backpack, he checked its weight, then lifted it with both hands and began walking, even slower than before.
yet before he could even adjust himself properly,he was almost run over as a large sports car whizzed by him, its driver oblivious to the dangers of narrow roads. Likely he hadn't even seen Paras' sorry figure. Momentarily stunned, Paras took a few seconds to come to his senses. Realizing that he could easily have become roadkill, he simultaneously thanked God and cursed the drunken prick.
This went on till his mind had calmed and his heart had steadied again. As he became aware of the silence around him, he picked up his backpack and began walking awkwardly towards his destination again. But the going was tough, especially since the short evening was changing into the dark night by now, made even darker by the woods which flanked his path. To make matters worse, the pain in his overworked hands was making common cause with the cold in the rest of his body, making it harder still to keep up the pace without either straining a muscle or tripping over a loose stone.
Yet Paras knew he could not quicken his pace. Rather his body would have preferred to rest, then perhaps take a lift from a less drunken driver. He had done it in the past, his Forest Dept ID proof sufficient for most people. But this was peak party season, when the schools and colleges were off, and the children (overgrown children rather) were thronging every place away from home where they could drink, smoke and fuck. "Fuck them" thought the young man, as he desperately sought to keep moving at a decent pace. Unfortunately for him, he was soon forced to stop again.
The same car was returning, this time at a slower speed. Infact it was steadily slowing down, as if the driver wasn't sure of where to go.Not surprising, thought Paras, given the very likely drunken status of the said individual. Hence he almost expected it when the car stopped and a guy, around 25 or so, stepped out. He was dressed for the summer it seemed, and for some reason (likely the alcohol again) was oblivious to the mortal chill that afflicted his pedestrian witness. Dropping his bag on the ground, Paras waited expectantly for the man to come up and ask him for directions, the price for which would be a lift to whichever destination (there were only two) he was going. To his utter surprise, the guy began walking off, away from the car. Then the other door opened, and out stepped a girl. About 18, guessed Paras, dressed in gothic attire with too much eyeliner and attitude for her own good. Slamming the door, she began to scream.
As the silence was rudely torn asunder, Paras instinctively covered his ears, but failed to prevent himself from hearing what she was saying.
"Fuck you Mickey. Fuck you and that whore Raima. Go to hell both of you, and stay there. I made a mistake..." At this point, the guy, now about a few yards away from the car, turned around abruptly and rushed towards the girl. next moment she was on the ground beside the car, her hysterical screams replaced by equally hysterical sobs. "Just shut up bitch. You know nothing." He towered over her, swaying slightly as the alcohol in his blood vied with the andrenaline. Eventually the latter won, and he landed a hard kick on her side. Paras noted with bemusement how the kick landed on her lower abdomen, which was completely devoid of any textile protection.
She let out a scream of agony, rolling over and evidently colliding with a thorny bush, for she rolled back to his foot again. The guy used this opportunity to kick her again, repeating the process, except that this time she began to sob loudly. Satisfied that he'd kicked the fight out of her, he returned to the car, and got in. The car revved up, and the window rolled down. A bag and a coat were thrown out, and the car began to reverse. Before the girl could get up, and scream (or plead) with him to return, the car was back on the road and headed back to the town. In a moment it was gone.
Silence descended again, but not the complete serene silence. Now it was periodically broken by the girl's sobs, his own throbbing heartbeat and the abscence of the occassional sound of birds, which seemed to complement the pristine silence. Paras sighed. He could guess what had happened, and he knew that the guy would be upto no good once he got back. Likely he'd be fucking his Raima again. Paras on the other hand couldn't simply leave the girl, to die of cold or be raped by the tribal goons. The problem was, he had no idea how to manage both the backpack and the girl.
Nevertheless he headed towards her, carrying the backpack lest some monkey make off with it. The girl had by now achieved a sitting posture, her thin body leaning heavily on one hand as the other massaged her waist. As he reached her, he noted that she was completely covered in mud and dirt, her expensive looking (but no doubt cheap) bikini top and miniskirt having provided her little protection from the ravages of lover and nature. Bending down, he opened his mouth to offer help. Instead she turned around suddenly ,and landed a hard slap on his face.
Stunned again, this time with a stinging cheek to add to his misery, Paras had the overwhelming urge to kick her till he heard something break. Instead, he allowed her face to change from one of righteous anger to a shocked and apologetic one, followed by a whimpering apology which was half lost in her sobs. The desire to kick her still very much present, he nevertheless decided to offer his help still.
"Need any help ?" his voice sounded angrier than he expected.
Chastened further by his tone, she nodded timidly, before extending her hand, ostensibly for him to raise her to her feet. Paras extended his hand, and the thin appendage connected to his, followed by a hard pull, and the girl was up. Apparently the kicks hadn't done much damage, for she began to brush the dust from her precious clothes with more concern than an injured person would have shown. Paras politely asked her if she could walk, for it was not safe for anyone to stay around. Plus her "friend" wasn't likely to return.
At the mention of the guy, her eyes flared, but she nodded, and without saying a word, began walking towards the town. Paras gently took her hand and turned her around, telling her that he lived in the forest dept bungalows some way away from the town. She nodded again, and to his surprise, offered to carry his backpack. Amused at this impossible proposition, he instead decided to make use of her friendliness by asking her to carry the bottles, which were in a plastic bag. Thus relieved, he could take his backpack on his back again without fearing for the straps, and still keep his hands free should he need to support himself (or her, his mind reminded him).
As they began to walk, she introduced herself as Anindita, and he told her his full name. She appeared to realize he wasn't a local, and inquired into his profession. As he spoke, Paras realized she could actually walk fast inspite of the moderate heels she had on.He complemented her on this. The girl smiled back, telling him politely that she was a state level athlete, and had only come to the party to celebrate a recent victory. Intrigued, he quizzed her more, and soon they had a pleasant conversation going, engrossing both the participants. As the words flowed, the miles melted away. An hour later, they stood before his apartments.
They were empty,devoid of any souls, primarily because this was the time when the officials went off for their holidays, unable to bear the cold of the hills. Even the guard was off duty tonight, and only the office guards could be seen in the distance, smoking and lighting a chulha to cook food.True that one or two villagers did cross the area from time to time, and he wasn't sure if the canteen owner had left yet. But the latter lived some way off, and for all practical purposes it was at that moment a ghost town.
As another gust of wind knocked him back, he remembered that she was more at home in this weather, having spent sometime training in Russia, than was he. Muttering to himself, he led her into the enclosed space before his house, before unlocking it and leading both of them into the dark coldness within.
As he turned on the lights and asked her if she'd have tea, his mind suddenly made him aware that he was all alone with a girl. A very beautiful girl too, with a figure any girl would die for. As she removed her coat, he noted the thin yet curvaceous figure, with wide hips, a tight ass, a thin waist and rather large tits. As she stretched, he noted the way her fine-toned muscles bulged out, even as her stomach went in and her tits stuck out. Releasing her muscles suddenly, she allowed her tits to bounce in the bikini top before falling sideways onto the sofa, such that she was lying along the length of it. As Paras looked on, she rolled a little more to one side, causing her tits to mash against each other, the lower one almost falling out of its cage, even as her long shapely legs were stretched out before him, allowing his eyes to make out each curve and contour of her perfect figure.
Almost unconsciously he realized that he was fantasizing about her. Fantasizing about how he would rape her and turn her into his whore. His ex had never tried out anything beyond the basic sex,but he'd always wanted to take control and do whatever he pleased. But he'd never revealed this side of himself, maintaining an appearance that made women feel comfortable in his company. And he was sure he could continue to maintain such appearances for this one night when he would be seriously tempted.
Suddenly, he realized she was looking at him. As he hastily looked away, she sat up,quickly grabbing the coat , using it to censor her body from his lecherous gaze.
Embarassed by his naked voyeurism, he hastened to prepare tea. Once he'd served both of them, he tried to make some conversation, but the discovery of his sexual interest seemed to have unnerved her. She spoke in monosyllables, before lapsing into silence which embarassed him further. Eventually, she asked him when she could leave, given that her team members would be waiting. He casually asked her if she'd come with her team. "Well yes, the team and their...umm...friends and lovers. "she laughed, releasing the tension to some extent. Relieved at being able to resume a conversation, he quizzed her further, and she told him about her team, which included both Mickey (a trainer) and Raima (an acrobat). Sighing within at having diffused the crisis somewhat, he told her that given the state of the road and the security issues, if no one came for her and she couldn't contact anyone, she would have to spend the night in his house.
Her eyes widened at this prospect, the fear and trepidation clearly visible in the brown orbs as she pondered her options. Paras too pondered his options. At about the same time, both came to the conclusion that they could do nothing but make themselves as good a company for the other as possible. Paras offered to share his food and give her the guest room with the sole heater in the house. She thanked him, and rewarded his hospitable offers with a resumption of her usual cheery self. As the tea disappeared,conversation flowed on, till she realized that it was around eight in the evening. With a start, she grabbed her phone and began to dial a number.
Surprised at this sudden end to their conversation, Paras decided to make himself useful. Since she had precious little by way of clothing, he rummaged in his wardrobe till he found a pair of shorts, and a tee. He could tell both would be excessively baggy for her, but then it was only a question of one night. Should he offer a tracksuit given he himself had woolens on his legs ? No need, his mind told him in a sly voice, there was no need to cover such beautiful legs. Surprised at his own perverted line of thought, Paras began to look for other necessary items, and soon had a spare towel, a brush and some other toiletries ready to offer to his unexpected guest.
The guest, to his dismay, had lost her cheery demeanour, and had on a peculiar expression which bordered on relief and dismay. Noticing him standing with what would be useful only if she stayed the night, she resigned herself to her fate, thanked him for the stuff, and headed off to change. Left alone, Paras fished out the dinner, made a mental note of what all to add, and proceeded to begin the process of warming the food.
This, due to the time elapsed between when it was cooked and when it was being warmed, took some time. So by the time he was done and could begin dividing the stuff into two plates, she had freshened up and reappeared, heading promptly into the kitchen, causing Paras to almost drop the casserole he was carrying. Before he could say anything, she took his burden and headed off to the dining room, where he had prepared the table for setting the dishes. Thus relieved of his burden, Paras was left at liberty to note the way her tight ass swayed in his shorts as she walked to the table. Yes, the tshirt was way too big, but the shorts,with the adjustable waistband, was just perfect, showing enough of her well toned muscular legs to produce a boner in his pants. If only he could....
By now however, she had turned and was returning, and Paras prudently pretended to be busy with dinner. This was just as well, for she now appeared to be at ease around him, and didn't notice when her ass brushed against his well covered boner. For Paras though, the touch sent shivers of excitement down his spine,producing a desperate urge to either masturbate or even better, grab his guest and satisfy his sexual hunger. Instead, he forced his mind to focus, completing the preparations for the dinner.Heading into the dining room, he set down the forks and spoons, marvelling at the amount of preparation one needed - he usually scooped out his food with one spoon while watching TV.
Anindita, however, didn't seem to think the preparations complete. Rather she hoped they weren't. As Paras gestured to her to take her seat, he saw her eyeing the bottles with a less than impartial gaze. Seeing her subtle hints producing no effect, she looked away and took her seat, serving both of them before she began eating. Paras, pleasantly surprised at her assumption of the host's traditional duty, soon noticed her looking at the bottles again, this time with visible interest.
This worried him. He had purchased the liquor for his own consumption, not for sharing with someone else. Plus he never drank socially, fearing his hidden urges, sexual or otherwise, might find expression in the drunken haze he usually preferred as THE END
(Long story, if you want the "good part", scroll down to about the middle. But it may be a little difficult to understand some things, so it's better the reader reads end to end. Thanks for your patience. )
It was getting cold. The sun had begun to set, causing the pleasant winter afternoon to turn into a chilly evening. Paras shivered in his four layered armour, wondering what the ideal thickness of winterwear should be in a cold region like this.He had tried his usual woolens and tshirt combo earlier in the day, and had promptly fled inside to cover himself in two more layers. Layers which made him feel like an overstuffed Santa Claus, but were proving increasingly inadequate in the cold wind which hit him straight in the face.
He had no choice now. Having recently joined the Forest Department and completed their mandatory training course, he found himself packed off to a corner of human civilization. Not a corner actually, considering it was hardly two hours drive from the nearest tourist attraction, and the proximity had allowed a number of seedy hotels to crop up. But they were in the town, from which his quarters were a good four miles away : four miles of narrow and deserted forest road, which he had to traverse every time he wanted some supplies (including liquor and the occassional weed) from the town. Today his supplies were exceptionally heavy, given that there was a weekend coming up, and he'd decided to treat himself to some whisky. As he lugged a large bottle of whisky and two beers, he almost wished he hadn't chosen that day.
But as he'd told himself plenty of times during that rather boring walk, he had no choice now. If it had been afternoon, he could have allowed his tired limbs some respite. Now it was almost four thirty and the sun was almost gone. Not that he was afraid of animals per se - that was an occupational hazard for him. Rather he feared humans, be they tribal dacoits who were known to sometimes waylay merrymakers and partake of everything from weed to the women, or the tourists themselves, who were usually high, and best avoided. Flexing his shoulder muscles, he straightened himself, determined to get over with this unpleasant journey as fast as possible.
But such was not to be. As luck would have it, he realized his muscle flexing had caused the bottles to shift, putting too much strain on one strap, and a large tear was developing. Taking off the backpack, he checked its weight, then lifted it with both hands and began walking, even slower than before.
yet before he could even adjust himself properly,he was almost run over as a large sports car whizzed by him, its driver oblivious to the dangers of narrow roads. Likely he hadn't even seen Paras' sorry figure. Momentarily stunned, Paras took a few seconds to come to his senses. Realizing that he could easily have become roadkill, he simultaneously thanked God and cursed the drunken prick.
This went on till his mind had calmed and his heart had steadied again. As he became aware of the silence around him, he picked up his backpack and began walking awkwardly towards his destination again. But the going was tough, especially since the short evening was changing into the dark night by now, made even darker by the woods which flanked his path. To make matters worse, the pain in his overworked hands was making common cause with the cold in the rest of his body, making it harder still to keep up the pace without either straining a muscle or tripping over a loose stone.
Yet Paras knew he could not quicken his pace. Rather his body would have preferred to rest, then perhaps take a lift from a less drunken driver. He had done it in the past, his Forest Dept ID proof sufficient for most people. But this was peak party season, when the schools and colleges were off, and the children (overgrown children rather) were thronging every place away from home where they could drink, smoke and fuck. "Fuck them" thought the young man, as he desperately sought to keep moving at a decent pace. Unfortunately for him, he was soon forced to stop again.
The same car was returning, this time at a slower speed. Infact it was steadily slowing down, as if the driver wasn't sure of where to go.Not surprising, thought Paras, given the very likely drunken status of the said individual. Hence he almost expected it when the car stopped and a guy, around 25 or so, stepped out. He was dressed for the summer it seemed, and for some reason (likely the alcohol again) was oblivious to the mortal chill that afflicted his pedestrian witness. Dropping his bag on the ground, Paras waited expectantly for the man to come up and ask him for directions, the price for which would be a lift to whichever destination (there were only two) he was going. To his utter surprise, the guy began walking off, away from the car. Then the other door opened, and out stepped a girl. About 18, guessed Paras, dressed in gothic attire with too much eyeliner and attitude for her own good. Slamming the door, she began to scream.
As the silence was rudely torn asunder, Paras instinctively covered his ears, but failed to prevent himself from hearing what she was saying.
"Fuck you Mickey. Fuck you and that whore Raima. Go to hell both of you, and stay there. I made a mistake..." At this point, the guy, now about a few yards away from the car, turned around abruptly and rushed towards the girl. next moment she was on the ground beside the car, her hysterical screams replaced by equally hysterical sobs. "Just shut up bitch. You know nothing." He towered over her, swaying slightly as the alcohol in his blood vied with the andrenaline. Eventually the latter won, and he landed a hard kick on her side. Paras noted with bemusement how the kick landed on her lower abdomen, which was completely devoid of any textile protection.
She let out a scream of agony, rolling over and evidently colliding with a thorny bush, for she rolled back to his foot again. The guy used this opportunity to kick her again, repeating the process, except that this time she began to sob loudly. Satisfied that he'd kicked the fight out of her, he returned to the car, and got in. The car revved up, and the window rolled down. A bag and a coat were thrown out, and the car began to reverse. Before the girl could get up, and scream (or plead) with him to return, the car was back on the road and headed back to the town. In a moment it was gone.
Silence descended again, but not the complete serene silence. Now it was periodically broken by the girl's sobs, his own throbbing heartbeat and the abscence of the occassional sound of birds, which seemed to complement the pristine silence. Paras sighed. He could guess what had happened, and he knew that the guy would be upto no good once he got back. Likely he'd be fucking his Raima again. Paras on the other hand couldn't simply leave the girl, to die of cold or be raped by the tribal goons. The problem was, he had no idea how to manage both the backpack and the girl.
Nevertheless he headed towards her, carrying the backpack lest some monkey make off with it. The girl had by now achieved a sitting posture, her thin body leaning heavily on one hand as the other massaged her waist. As he reached her, he noted that she was completely covered in mud and dirt, her expensive looking (but no doubt cheap) bikini top and miniskirt having provided her little protection from the ravages of lover and nature. Bending down, he opened his mouth to offer help. Instead she turned around suddenly ,and landed a hard slap on his face.
Stunned again, this time with a stinging cheek to add to his misery, Paras had the overwhelming urge to kick her till he heard something break. Instead, he allowed her face to change from one of righteous anger to a shocked and apologetic one, followed by a whimpering apology which was half lost in her sobs. The desire to kick her still very much present, he nevertheless decided to offer his help still.
"Need any help ?" his voice sounded angrier than he expected.
Chastened further by his tone, she nodded timidly, before extending her hand, ostensibly for him to raise her to her feet. Paras extended his hand, and the thin appendage connected to his, followed by a hard pull, and the girl was up. Apparently the kicks hadn't done much damage, for she began to brush the dust from her precious clothes with more concern than an injured person would have shown. Paras politely asked her if she could walk, for it was not safe for anyone to stay around. Plus her "friend" wasn't likely to return.
At the mention of the guy, her eyes flared, but she nodded, and without saying a word, began walking towards the town. Paras gently took her hand and turned her around, telling her that he lived in the forest dept bungalows some way away from the town. She nodded again, and to his surprise, offered to carry his backpack. Amused at this impossible proposition, he instead decided to make use of her friendliness by asking her to carry the bottles, which were in a plastic bag. Thus relieved, he could take his backpack on his back again without fearing for the straps, and still keep his hands free should he need to support himself (or her, his mind reminded him).
As they began to walk, she introduced herself as Anindita, and he told her his full name. She appeared to realize he wasn't a local, and inquired into his profession. As he spoke, Paras realized she could actually walk fast inspite of the moderate heels she had on.He complemented her on this. The girl smiled back, telling him politely that she was a state level athlete, and had only come to the party to celebrate a recent victory. Intrigued, he quizzed her more, and soon they had a pleasant conversation going, engrossing both the participants. As the words flowed, the miles melted away. An hour later, they stood before his apartments.
They were empty,devoid of any souls, primarily because this was the time when the officials went off for their holidays, unable to bear the cold of the hills. Even the guard was off duty tonight, and only the office guards could be seen in the distance, smoking and lighting a chulha to cook food.True that one or two villagers did cross the area from time to time, and he wasn't sure if the canteen owner had left yet. But the latter lived some way off, and for all practical purposes it was at that moment a ghost town.
As another gust of wind knocked him back, he remembered that she was more at home in this weather, having spent sometime training in Russia, than was he. Muttering to himself, he led her into the enclosed space before his house, before unlocking it and leading both of them into the dark coldness within.
As he turned on the lights and asked her if she'd have tea, his mind suddenly made him aware that he was all alone with a girl. A very beautiful girl too, with a figure any girl would die for. As she removed her coat, he noted the thin yet curvaceous figure, with wide hips, a tight ass, a thin waist and rather large tits. As she stretched, he noted the way her fine-toned muscles bulged out, even as her stomach went in and her tits stuck out. Releasing her muscles suddenly, she allowed her tits to bounce in the bikini top before falling sideways onto the sofa, such that she was lying along the length of it. As Paras looked on, she rolled a little more to one side, causing her tits to mash against each other, the lower one almost falling out of its cage, even as her long shapely legs were stretched out before him, allowing his eyes to make out each curve and contour of her perfect figure.
Almost unconsciously he realized that he was fantasizing about her. Fantasizing about how he would rape her and turn her into his whore. His ex had never tried out anything beyond the basic sex,but he'd always wanted to take control and do whatever he pleased. But he'd never revealed this side of himself, maintaining an appearance that made women feel comfortable in his company. And he was sure he could continue to maintain such appearances for this one night when he would be seriously tempted.
Suddenly, he realized she was looking at him. As he hastily looked away, she sat up,quickly grabbing the coat , using it to censor her body from his lecherous gaze.
Embarassed by his naked voyeurism, he hastened to prepare tea. Once he'd served both of them, he tried to make some conversation, but the discovery of his sexual interest seemed to have unnerved her. She spoke in monosyllables, before lapsing into silence which embarassed him further. Eventually, she asked him when she could leave, given that her team members would be waiting. He casually asked her if she'd come with her team. "Well yes, the team and their...umm...friends and lovers. "she laughed, releasing the tension to some extent. Relieved at being able to resume a conversation, he quizzed her further, and she told him about her team, which included both Mickey (a trainer) and Raima (an acrobat). Sighing within at having diffused the crisis somewhat, he told her that given the state of the road and the security issues, if no one came for her and she couldn't contact anyone, she would have to spend the night in his house.
Her eyes widened at this prospect, the fear and trepidation clearly visible in the brown orbs as she pondered her options. Paras too pondered his options. At about the same time, both came to the conclusion that they could do nothing but make themselves as good a company for the other as possible. Paras offered to share his food and give her the guest room with the sole heater in the house. She thanked him, and rewarded his hospitable offers with a resumption of her usual cheery self. As the tea disappeared,conversation flowed on, till she realized that it was around eight in the evening. With a start, she grabbed her phone and began to dial a number.
Surprised at this sudden end to their conversation, Paras decided to make himself useful. Since she had precious little by way of clothing, he rummaged in his wardrobe till he found a pair of shorts, and a tee. He could tell both would be excessively baggy for her, but then it was only a question of one night. Should he offer a tracksuit given he himself had woolens on his legs ? No need, his mind told him in a sly voice, there was no need to cover such beautiful legs. Surprised at his own perverted line of thought, Paras began to look for other necessary items, and soon had a spare towel, a brush and some other toiletries ready to offer to his unexpected guest.
The guest, to his dismay, had lost her cheery demeanour, and had on a peculiar expression which bordered on relief and dismay. Noticing him standing with what would be useful only if she stayed the night, she resigned herself to her fate, thanked him for the stuff, and headed off to change. Left alone, Paras fished out the dinner, made a mental note of what all to add, and proceeded to begin the process of warming the food.
This, due to the time elapsed between when it was cooked and when it was being warmed, took some time. So by the time he was done and could begin dividing the stuff into two plates, she had freshened up and reappeared, heading promptly into the kitchen, causing Paras to almost drop the casserole he was carrying. Before he could say anything, she took his burden and headed off to the dining room, where he had prepared the table for setting the dishes. Thus relieved of his burden, Paras was left at liberty to note the way her tight ass swayed in his shorts as she walked to the table. Yes, the tshirt was way too big, but the shorts,with the adjustable waistband, was just perfect, showing enough of her well toned muscular legs to produce a boner in his pants. If only he could....
By now however, she had turned and was returning, and Paras prudently pretended to be busy with dinner. This was just as well, for she now appeared to be at ease around him, and didn't notice when her ass brushed against his well covered boner. For Paras though, the touch sent shivers of excitement down his spine,producing a desperate urge to either masturbate or even better, grab his guest and satisfy his sexual hunger. Instead, he forced his mind to focus, completing the preparations for the dinner.Heading into the dining room, he set down the forks and spoons, marvelling at the amount of preparation one needed - he usually scooped out his food with one spoon while watching TV.
Anindita, however, didn't seem to think the preparations complete. Rather she hoped they weren't. As Paras gestured to her to take her seat, he saw her eyeing the bottles with a less than impartial gaze. Seeing her subtle hints producing no effect, she looked away and took her seat, serving both of them before she began eating. Paras, pleasantly surprised at her assumption of the host's traditional duty, soon noticed her looking at the bottles again, this time with visible interest.
This worried him. He had purchased the liquor for his own consumption, not for sharing with someone else. Plus he never drank socially, fearing his hidden urges, sexual or otherwise, might find expression in the drunken haze he usually preferred as THE END
