Vikram Seth ka office 23rd floor pe tha, Bandra-Kurla ke sheeshe mein, neeche Mumbai ki gaadiyan cheeti jaisi. Board pe naam CEO likha tha. Neeche dhandha extortion, hawala, club, aur teen police station ka “monthly.” Shaadi Rhea se thi—society face, diamonds, empty bed.
Ek tattoo tha bas. Gale ke left side, kala scorpion, dum neeche ko. Jab gussa aata to nasein scorpion ko nachati thin.
Meera 28 ki thi. Subah sari, dupatta, file tray. Dopahar mein wahi sari kamar tak khisak jaati. Pehle sirf maid thi bungalow pe. Phir Vikram ne kaha, “Tu padhi likhi hai. Office aa. Secretary bhi tu, bartan bhi tu.” Matlab jab chahe chut, jab chahe chai.
Doodh ki problem pregnancy ke baad reh gayi thi—ex husband bhaag gaya tha, baby nahi, doodh reh gaya. Blouse ke cups din mein do baar bheegte. Vikram ne pehli baar tab dekha jab Meera jhuk ke table saaf kar rahi thi aur white dhaar blouse se nikal ke teak pe tapki.
Usne door lock kiya.
“Idhar aa.”
Meera ki saans atki. “Sethji… memsaab—”
“Memsaab Geneva mein hai. Tu yahan hai. Sari khol.”
Sari maid seduction koi slow dance nahi thi. Vikram ne pallu kheench ke sofa pe giraya, blouse ke hook todhe, 36 size ke doodh bhare stan bahar aaye. Usne scorpion wala gala jhuka ke nipple muh mein liya aur kheencha. Meera ki kamar kampei. Doodh garam, meetha-namak.
“Lactating indian maid,” usne angrezi mein nahi kaha—bola, “Saali doodh wali. Roz bheegti hai. Aaj se mere mug mein nikalegi, baby bottle mein nahi.”
Usne Meera ko table pe litaya. Office ke kaagaz bikhre. Panty ek side. Tight chut desi maid—baal kam, phuli hui, geeli. Vikram ka lund suit ke andar se bhaari. Belt. Zip. Mota, gandi naseon wala. Usne do ungliyan ghusayin, phir lund.
Hard fuck. Table ki kinare Meera ki kamai. “Sethji—ah—ah dheere—”
“Dheere nahi. Boss fucks maid. Yaad rakh.” Har dhakke pe scorpion hilta. Andar tak. Meera ki cheekhein AC ki humming mein mil gayin. Jab wo tight ho ke kampi, Vikram nahi nikala. Creampie. Garam virya ko usne andhar hi bhar diya, angutha clit pe, “Rakh. Tight chut band kar. Leak nahi karna lift tak.”
Shaam ko bungalow. Rhea ke photos deewar pe. Meera kitchen mein sari, andar se virya tapak. Vikram peeche aaya, haath se munh band kiya, sari uthayi, phir se ghusaya sink ke saamne. Boss maid affair ab naukri ka hissa tha.
Doosre hafte usne kaha, “Aaj facesitting. Meri daadhi pe baith. Doodh nikaal ke mere muh pe gira.”
Meera ne panty utari, kursi ki haters ki tarah uske chehre pe chut rakh di. Vikram ki zabaan andar. Meera ke stan se doodh uske maathe pe. Milk tits maid, milk breasts maid—jo bhi naam do, scene wahi: doodh, chut, CEO ka muh.
Phir gangbang.
Vikram ke teen aadmi—Raju, Farid, Pinto—accounts ke naam pe aaye. Asli mein dekhne aaye ke Seth ki maid kitni khul gayi hai. Vikram ne whiskey table pe rakh ke kaha, “Jo dekhna hai dekho. Haath tab lagana jab main kahun.”
Pehle usne khud Meera ko sofa pe pel ke creampie diya. Phir Raju ko ishara. Desi maid gangbang. Ek muh mein, ek chut, ek haath mein. Meera ki sari sirf ek kalai pe latak rahi thi. Doodh ki dhaarein Farid ke chest pe. Vikram sofa pe baitha, zip khuli, scorpion wala gala tikka, cigarette, jaise board meeting ho.
“Bol, kiski hai tu.”
“Sethji ki… maid… secretary… rand—” last word usne khud dali, aankhen band.
Pinto ne gaand li, Raju ne chut, Farid ne doodh piya. Double, triple, ginti kho gayi. Last mein Vikram wapas aaya, sabke upar se nikaal ke sirf apna lund andar kiya, jaise stamp lagaata ho. Boss maid creampie final.
Raat ko Rhea ne video call ki. “Baby miss you.” Vikram ke god mein Meera thi, sari theek, muh mein uska lund chhupa. “Miss you too,” usne kaha, cam ke neeche Meera ke baal pakde.
Affair chal nikla. Lift mein. Conference room ke under table. Bungalow ke puja room ke peeche jahan Rhea ka marble Ganesh muskuraata. Har jagah same rule—Vikram andar giraye, Meera panty pehen ke ghar jaaye, doodh alag se bottle mein nikaale jo wo fridge ke peeche chhupata.
Ek din Rhea jaldi aa gayi. Meera jhuki hui thi, Vikram peeche se dhasa hua, scorpion pasine se chamak raha. Rhea ne clutch drop kiya.
Vikram nahi ruka. “Dekh. Ye naukri hai. Tu Geneva, ye chut. Dono meri.”
Rhea rone ke bajay door band karke baith gayi. Aankhon mein gussa, tangon mein kuch aur. Usne kaha, “Khatam kar. Phir main bhi dekhun tera tattoo hilta hai ke nahi.”
Us raat ghar teen bodies ka ho gaya—biwi, maid, gangster. Meera ko beech mein litaya, Rhea ne uski chut chaati jahan pati ka virya tha, Vikram ne dono ko beari mein liya. Desi house ka sabse ganda hisaab.
Subah Meera ne chai banayi. Gale pe finger marks. Blouse mein doodh. Sari seedhi.
Vikram ne file di. “Aaj board hai. Tu minutes likhna. Minutes ke baad table ke neeche aa jana.”
Meera ne sir hilaya. “Haan, Sethji.”
Scorpion ne ek baar dhadka, jaise keh raha ho—office chalega, dhanda chalega, aur ye chudai bhi payroll pe hai.
Pehla hissa toh ho chuka tha—table, creampie, doodh, scorpion tattoo. Doosra hissa wahan se shuru hua jahan Meera ne kaha tha, “Haan, Sethji.”
Board room mein gyarah aadmi. Projector, numbers, hawala ke code words jo “logistics” ban ke slide pe chalte. Meera corner mein laptop. Sari mustard, blouse tight, doodh ki smell halki—usne subah nikaala tha lekin left cup phir bheeg raha tha.
Vikram sir pe baitha. Gale pe kala scorpion. Jab wo “margin” bola, uska joota Meera ki kalai ko table ke neeche dhakka diya.
Wo quietly slide hui. Carpet jal raha tha ghutnon pe. Sab ke saamne upar PowerPoint. Neeche usne zip kholi. Lund pehle se khada—garam, naseon wala, sir chamak. Meera ne chat ke muh mein liya. Vikram ki presentation ki awaaz nahi kami. Sirf ek baar usne paani ka glass uthaya jab Meera ne gala tak le liya.
Farid samne baitha tha. Usne Meera ke baal ka ek jhinka table ke neeche dekha, aankh nichi ki, phir seedha baitha. Samajh gaya. Muskurahat dabaayi.
Bees minute. Meera ki aankhon mein paani, thook ki dor shirt pe. Vikram ne meeting ke end pe kaha, “Break. Dasma minute.” Room khali hua. Usne Meera ke baal pakde, table ke neeche se kheench ke apne chair pe bithaya, sari uthayi, panty side, aur ek hi dhakke mein ghusa diya.
“Minutes likh,” usne kaan mein kaha. “Likh—boss ne maid ki chut faad di board break mein.”
Meera ki ungliyan laptop pe anap-shanap. Vikram tez. Table hilne lagi. Creampie phir se—andar tak, angutha gaand pe. Usne panty wapas khinchi. “Baith. Agla session. Leak hua to bonus kateqa.”
Meera baithi, ranon dabaaye. Slide pe profit. Neeche virya dheere dheere panty bhar raha tha.
Shaam bungalow. Kitchen marble. Rhea abhi flight pe. Meera chulha, sari ki pallu kamar mein. Vikram peeche se aaya, haath blouse ke andar, doodh ki dhaar uski hatheli pe.
“Mug nikaal.”
Do steel mug. Meera ne blouse utara. Bade stan, nipple geele. Vikram ne ek taraf se piya, doosri taraf se mug bhara. Kheench-kheench. Meera ki tangen kapkapaayin. “Sethji… khadi nahi reh paungi—”
Usne usko counter pe bithaya, mug ek side, muh lagaya chut pe. Zabaan andar, naak clit pe. Meera ne uske baal pakde, scorpion ke upar ungli pheri. Jab wo nikalne lagi, Vikram khada hua, tangen uske kandhe pe, lund chut mein, counter ki edge kaat rahi thi.
Hard fuck. Bartan khanak. Doodh ki dhaarein uske suit pe. Andar gira. Nikaala. Virya nikal ke tapka. Usne do ungliyan bhari, nikaal ke Meera ke muh pe lagaaya. “Kha. Apna doodh alag, mera alag. Aaj mix.”
Meera ne chaata. Phir Vikram ne usko palat ke facesitting karwayi—wo floor pe lit gaya, Meera ki chut uske muh pe, doodh uske seene pe tapakta. Usne gaand ke ched tak zabaan ghusaayi. Meera chillaayi, “Sethji… main gir—” aur gir ke uske lund pe muh maar gayi, 69 kitchen tile pe.
Raju darwaze pe khada nikal aaya. “Seth, gaadi lagi hai.”
Vikram ne Meera ko nahi hataya. “Aaja. Dekh ke seekh. Phir line laga.”
Raju ne pant utari. Meera ke muh se Vikram nikla, Raju ghusaa. Vikram ne neeche se chut chaatni jaari rakhi. Do aadmi, ek maid, chulha pe milk tapka hua.
Gangbang poori raat ka schedule tha. Godown nahi—bungalow ka basement home-theatre. Screen band. Farid, Pinto, Raju. Vikram sofa pe whiskey.
Meera ko beech mein khada kiya. “Sari utar. Blouse rakh. Sirf cups khol.”
Doodh dikh raha tha. Teenon ne muh lagaya jaise daru ho. Stan milking—haath, muh, mug. Pinto thoda sookha thha, jaldi garmi mein aa gaya. Vikram ne kaha, “Pehle chut nahi. Pehle doodh khatam. Phir tight chut.”
Jab cups halki huyi, Meera ko four-poster nahi, leather recliner pe litaya. Raju ne tangen pakdi. Farid muh. Pinto lund chut ke muh pe ragadta. Vikram counting.
“Ab.”
Farid pehle. Lambi, kam moti. Meera ki awaaz kati. Raju doosra, muh mein. Pinto intezaar. Rotation—har das minute badli. Desi maid gangbang, lekin Vikram ke rule se: last shot hamesha uska.
Beech mein Meera ne kaha, “Sethji… gaand bhi… aaj…”
Pinto ne lube nahi, thook aur doodh se geela kiya. Dheere. Meera ki mutthi sofa kha gayi. Phir DP—Farid chut, Pinto gaand. Raju doodh. Vikram record nahi kar raha tha; wo dekh raha tha jaise hisaab.
Jab teenon nikal gaye, Vikram aaya. Scorpion pasine se geela. Usne dono ched check kiye ungli se, phir chut mein apna mota lund pel diya, gaand mein angutha. “Ye seal hai. Meri. Creampie meri. Unka pehle, mera last. Samjhi?”
“Haan…” Meera ki aankh palat rahi thi. Andar uska virya doosron ke upar bhar gaya. Overflow. Raanon pe. Carpet pe.
Usne towel nahi diya. “Aisi hi so. Rhea kal subah aayegi. Dekhegi to khud decide karegi tu naukri pe rehti hai ya nahi.”
Rhea aayi. Jet-lag, red sole, gussa. Basement ke towel, mug, sari ka pallu—sab dikh gaya. Meera nangi nahi thi, lekin smell thi.
Rhea ne Vikram ko thappad maara. Scorpion laal ho gaya. Usne thappad wapas nahi maara. Bola, “Ek baar dekh. Phir divorce paper nikalna. Ya baith ke shamil ho.”
Rhea ki saans bhaari. Usne Meera ka chehra pakda. “Tu meri tarah sochti thi na, ye aadmi sirf paise hai? Ye aadmi bheja hai. Lund hai. Tu doodh deti hai, main naam deti hoon. Dono use.”
Us raat teesra hissa.
Rhea ne khud apni silk utari. Uske stan doodh wale nahi, lekin mahenge. Usne Meera ko bed pe litaya, chut pe muh mara jahan abhi bhi virya tha. “Patidev ka. Maid ka. Ab meri zabaan ka.”
Vikram peeche se Rhea ko liya. Meera neeche. Sandwich. Rhea ki cheekh Meera ke pet pe. Phir ulta—Meera upar facesitting Rhea pe, Vikram Meera ko peeche se. Rhea ne Meera ka doodh peene ki koshish ki, kaha, “Kadwa hai.” Vikram bola, “Roz nahi piyegi to kadwa lagega.”
Teenon ne raat kaati. Kabhi Rhea ki chut, kabhi Meera ki gaand, kabhi dono ke muh ek saath lund pe. Cum play—Vikram ne Meera ke stan pe giraaya, Rhea ne chaata. Phir ulta.
Subah Rhea ne kaha, “Geneva cancel. Maid ko extra room. Main dekh ke rakhungi ye ghar se doodh chori na ho.”
Meera ne chai banayi, teen cups. Gale pe nishan. Vikram ne shirt button kiye, scorpion chhupa.
Lift mein office jaate hue usne Meera ki panty check ki. Geeli. “Board at twelve. Table ke neeche barah baj ke paanch pe.”
Meera ne mirror mein khud ko dekha. Sari seedhi. Andar sab tedha.
“Haan, Sethji.”
Bandra ke sheeshe mein teen reflection—gangster, biwi, maid. Neeche sheher. Upar wahi dhanda. Beech mein wahi tight chut, wahi doodh, wahi last creampie jo hamesha scorpion wale aadmi ka hota tha
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