Erotic Stories for Punjabi Widows

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Erotic Stories for Punjabi Widows Page 18

by Balli Kaur Jaswal


  Jason placed a light kiss on her collarbone and rolled back to his side, keeping an arm wrapped around her waist. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

  Nikki shook her head. It had been a week since her visit with Tarampal and she had tried to forget it. She succeeded only partially – snatches of conversation no longer drifted in her mind, but certain images shot into her view without warning.

  ‘Was it a nightmare, or a bad dream?’ Jason asked.

  ‘What’s the difference?’

  ‘A nightmare is scary. A bad dream can be a little … bad’ Nikki turned to see a smile playing on Jason’s lips. ‘Like the story of a woman who, despite her best efforts to keep her house under control, can’t seem to find time to enjoy her husband.’

  Nikki recognized the beginnings of a widow’s story. Jason continued. ‘She decides to go ahead and hire a maid without her husband knowing. The maid enters the house after her husband goes to work and leaves before he comes home. Now the woman is free to do whatever she wants during the day because she has no more obligations – no school pick-ups, no grocery shopping. She spends her whole day at the spa and exploring all those sights of London she’s never had a chance to see.’

  ‘The plan is working out well,’ Nikki said. ‘Until the husband returns to the house one day because he’s forgotten some papers. He sees the maid dusting the tops of cabinets. “Who are you?” he asks.’

  ‘She spins around and sees a tall man advancing towards her,’ Jason said. ‘“Please, don’t be angry,” the maid says. She explains the wife’s plan. “She just wants some time to herself. I’m helping her.”’

  ‘The man doesn’t know how to react. He stares at the maid, wondering how long this has been going on. The maid can’t help but notice that he’s very attractive. “I can do everything your wife can do,” she says softly, walking towards him. “I’ve ironed all of these shirts.’ She touches his collar. “I’ve bought a new set of shaving razors.” She strokes his cheek and feels a light prickle of stubble. “What else does she do?”’

  ‘The maid doesn’t wait for him to answer. She unzips his pants and out springs his man hammer,’ Jason said.

  Nikki burst out laughing. ‘Is that what you call it?’

  ‘It’s quite the tool.’

  ‘You’re quite the tool,’ Nikki said, giving Jason a shove.

  ‘I walked into that one. All right, his instrument?’

  ‘That implies something clinical,’ Nikki said. ‘Like a surgical instrument.’

  ‘Or something that makes sweet, sweet music,’ Jason offered.

  ‘Try a vegetable.’

  ‘Out springs his parsnip.’

  ‘Think of a more consistent shape.’

  ‘You’re very bossy about this vocabulary.’

  ‘I want to get it right.’

  ‘All right, his zucchini.’

  ‘They’re called courgettes here.’

  ‘Oh, I like that. It sounds sophisticated now, like a corvette.’ Jason said.

  ‘His courgette feels silky to her touch,’ Nikki continues.

  Jason frowned. ‘The last time I cooked using courgettes, they were rough and bumpy before being peeled.’

  ‘Surely you’ve encountered a smooth courgette.’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Where do you shop?’

  ‘You’ve lost me.’

  ‘How about now?’ Nikki asked. She threw her leg over Jason’s side and straddled him.

  ‘Now I’ve completely forgotten everything I ever knew,’ Jason said, staring at Nikki’s bare breasts.

  ‘They have sex in every room of the house. The man feels terrible afterwards and confides in his wife. To his surprise, she looks pleased. “I thought that might happen,” she says. Turns out she had hidden the husband’s papers so he’d have to come home to look for them. She planned for the maid and her husband to meet. Now she wants to watch them while they have sex. It turns her on.’

  ‘Where can I find a girl like that?’ Jason joked.

  ‘Close your eyes,’ Nikki ordered. She lowered her face towards his and kissed him, breathing in the musty smell of his hair. ‘She’s watching us now,’ she murmured into his ear. ‘Are we turning her on?’

  Jason looked up. ‘Yeah.’ A ring trilled through the flat, sending a jolt through both of them. Jason’s smile suddenly vanished as he reached past Nikki for his phone, which was in his jeans pocket under the bed. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled, looking at the screen. ‘I have to answer this.’ He stepped into his pants and pulled them up.

  It could be work, Nikki thought, but it was Sunday, and Jason’s face looked grimmer than somebody being chased by a demanding boss. This had happened twice already. A sudden phone call and then Jason was out so quickly that she could practically see the dust he kicked up as he exited the room. ‘Who is that?’ she asked last time. She didn’t want to seem nosy, but the call had interrupted another dinner date, when he insisted on leaving his phone on the table. He had left the restaurant for twenty minutes. ‘Just some work stuff I have to take care of,’ Jason had said.

  Nikki strained to listen now but Jason’s voice was muffled and hushed. He was in the bathroom. She tiptoed into the corridor to listen but a floorboard creaked, betraying her presence. She hurried into the kitchen and busied herself making breakfast for the two of them.

  ‘I’m out of coffee,’ Nikki said when Jason emerged from his hiding place. He looked tired. She tried not to notice. He sat down at the table and put his head in his hands. Nikki pulled out a chair next to him and squeezed his shoulder. ‘Who was it?’

  ‘Just work,’ he said. Nikki watched him hastily putting his clothes on, his face cloudy and lost in thought.

  ‘I was going to make us omelettes,’ Nikki said, opening the fridge. ‘Do you want two eggs again or just one?’

  ‘That’s fine,’ Jason said.

  ‘Two eggs it is,’ Nikki said.

  Jason looked up. ‘Oh hey, sorry.’ He smiled. ‘Just one egg would be great. Thank you.’

  Nikki nodded and turned to the stove. ‘So, I was thinking we should try to catch that French film. I’d still like to see it.’

  ‘Good idea,’ Jason said. ‘Is it still playing?’

  ‘That cinema runs the same films for ages,’ Nikki said. ‘I think that weekend was its first showing. They screened a documentary about slums in Calcutta there a couple of years ago. My parents went to see it three times over six months.’

  ‘Thank goodness for people who like re-watching movies then. They’re keeping that cinema going.’

  ‘My parents had very different tastes, though. Dad liked his historical or current affairs shows and Mum only watched Indian dramas or Hollywood rom-coms. They found something that they could both enjoy in this film.’ She smiled at the memory of Mum and Dad coming home from another matinee of the same film, their cheeks shining like new lovers.

  ‘It sounds like they made the whole arranged marriage thing really work,’ Jason commented.

  ‘They did,’ Nikki said and she was surprised at this realization. Her eyes became hot with tears. ‘Now, do you want cheese in your omelette?’

  ‘Sure,’ Jason said. His phone rang again. Nikki turned around to see him frowning at the screen. ‘I need to take this again, Nikki. Sorry.’ He hurried out of the flat. Nikki fought the urge to tiptoe to the doorway to eavesdrop on his conversation. She could hear him pacing the cramped corridor outside. When he returned, he attempted another reassuring smile but it fell flat.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Nikki asked.

  ‘It’s just a work thing,’ Jason said. ‘Kind of hard to explain. Things are going to be busy for a while.’

  Nikki served the eggs and they both ate in silence. Something had descended heavily on the flat. Had Jason sensed her attempt to keep him around for breakfast so she could ask – casually of course – where their relationship was going? Perhaps it was too soon, but they had been seeing each other nearly every night since that first date. I
ntense beginnings were exciting but they fizzled out quickly and Nikki wanted more than a fling.

  Jason finished his breakfast and then left with another round of apologies and promises to call Nikki later. He has a demanding job. He had to leave for an important work thing, Nikki told herself, testing out the line for veracity. It wasn’t convincing.

  Nikki descended into O’Reilly’s that evening to find a young woman she had never seen before standing at the bar. Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her make-up was so heavy that her eyes looked drawn on. She gave Nikki a quick smile and then returned to twisting the end of her ponytail in her finger. ‘Hello,’ Nikki said.

  ‘I’m Jo,’ the girl said with no other explanation.

  Sam emerged from the back room. ‘Oh good – Nikki you’ve met Jo, Jo this is Nikki. I’m training Jo to work at the bar so I’ll need you in the kitchen this evening.’

  ‘All right,’ Nikki said. If she had known of this arrangement in advance, she would have prepared herself to spend the evening with those two buffoons in the kitchen, but it seemed that nothing was working out her way today. Heading for the kitchen, she tossed a glance at Jo. She was an attractive young woman, and the snickering Russians were sure to comment again on Sam’s dodgy hiring judgement. Jo looked disinterested in anything Sam was saying as he leaned close to her. Come on, Sam, Nikki thought. She wished Olive were here but she had declared a strike against dismal weather and was in Lisbon for the weekend, courtesy of a last minute online deal. She pulled out her phone and sent her a quick text:

  London sucks at the moment. Come back!

  The reply was a photo of a pristine and sunny beach landscape. Nikki wrote back:

  Stop rubbing it in my face

  I’d like to rub this in MY face hahahaha

  A moment later, a picture appeared on Nikki’s phone. It was a shirtless, tanned man on the beach with such defined stomach muscles, they looked hand drawn. His arm was around Olive’s bare waist and her cheek was pressed against his chest. One of her eyes was squeezed shut in a wink. Bring me one, Nikki wrote back.

  The kitchen was a flurry of activity and foreign language when Nikki entered it. The Russians called out to each other and Sanja flitted between them. The moment they noticed Nikki, their voices dropped. They shared a smirk. Nikki could tell from a slight tension of recognition in Sanja’s face that she had heard and understood their joke. Outside the kitchen, the pub rocked with applause and laughter. It was another trivia event and the quizmaster was warming up the crowd with a bit of stand-up comedy.

  Garry appeared at Nikki’s side. ‘You didn’t hear me?’ he asked. ‘I said take these to Table Five.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Nikki said.

  ‘You have to listen,’ he said. ‘This is kitchen, not Sam’s office.’ He made a wiggling motion with his hips.

  ‘Look, Garry. I think it’s really inappropriate of you to imply—’

  Garry walked off before Nikki could complete her sentence. She took the order out, her cheeks burning with indignation. She passed Jo, who was busy checking her phone. ‘I think you’ve got customers,’ Nikki said. Jo scowled back.

  On her return back, she saw Sanja at the door. ‘Don’t bother with them,’ she said. ‘They’re arseholes. They want to work at the bar because they think they’ll impress girls that way.’

  ‘I don’t think working at the bar will help them in that department.’

  ‘Me, I prefer the kitchen work. But maybe I’m better than the new girl.’

  ‘Anyone’s better than that,’ Nikki said. ‘I don’t know what Sam’s thinking.’ Noticing the line of cleavage that Jo exposed as she leaned towards a customer, Nikki thought, or maybe I do.

  Nikki returned to the kitchen and focused on the orders, wishing for the night to pass quickly. She wanted to return to her flat and just curl up on her bed. The kitchen clattered with noise and each time the door swung open, she could hear the quizmaster’s booming questions.

  ‘Native to Australia, this amphibian mammal lays eggs.’

  ‘Which actress played Marta in The Sound of Music?’

  ‘What did Jesus send his disciples out with? A) Sticks and stones B) Bread and Money C) Scrip D) Staves.’

  What’s a scrip? Nikki wondered as she pulled open the dishwasher door. A burst of scalding steam rushed to her face. She yelped and shoved the door close. Sanja rushed to her side. ‘Here, open your eyes and let me see.’

  Nikki blinked a few times to clear her blurry view of Sanja’s face. ‘You be careful with that thing,’ Sanja said, tossing a look of contempt at the dishwasher. ‘The alarm beeps before the dishes are dried. I should have warned you.’

  Garry called out to Sanja. She snapped back at him in rapid Russian. ‘Thanks,’ Nikki said. She opened her eyes. ‘And thanks for standing up for me.’

  ‘You don’t know what I said.’

  ‘It sounded like the Russian equivalent of “fuck off”.’

  ‘Correct,’ Sanja said.

  Sanja’s kindness helped the remaining hours of Nikki’s shift pass a little more quickly. The trivia crowd was good-natured tonight, even after Steve with the Racist Grandfather answered a question about North Korea with, ‘Me love you long time!’ Yet by the time Nikki’s shift was over, her anger at Sam still had not subsided. She marched to Sam’s office and rapped on his door. ‘Come in,’ he called.

  Nikki entered. ‘The dishwasher’s got issues,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah, I know,’ Sam said, not looking up from a spread of papers on his desk. ‘I’ll get it fixed soon.’

  ‘You need to get it fixed sooner than that,’ Nikki said. Her voice wavered.

  Now Sam looked up. ‘I’ll fix it when I’ve got the money, Nikki. If you haven’t noticed, things are tight round here.’

  ‘It’s a hazard,’ she replied. ‘Besides, if you haven’t got the money, why are you hiring new staff? What’s the deal with this Jo, Sam?’

  It was satisfying to see Sam look so taken aback. ‘Am I supposed to check all my hiring decisions with you?’

  ‘I think I’d have a more professional opinion than you.’

  ‘Is that right?’ Sam asked wryly.

  ‘Do you know what those idiots in the kitchen have been saying about me? That you hired me because I seduced you. Is that right, Sam? Because I sure don’t remember it that way. Here I was thinking I got this job because I was a hard worker but—’

  ‘Nikki, I’m going to stop you right there.’ Sam’s tone was infuriatingly calm now but distinct worry lines scored his forehead. ‘I haven’t hired Jo. She’s my niece – my sister’s kid. Remember my weekend in Leeds? It was to bring Jo back down here. I’m training her as a favour. She just turned eighteen and has no idea what she wants to do with her life. She and my sister haven’t been getting along very well, so I thought I’d step in.’

  That sounded like something Sam would do. ‘That still doesn’t excuse—’ Nikki began.

  Sam waved away Nikki’s words. ‘I should have talked to you about that whole asking you out thing. I was too embarrassed. I had no idea those guys were giving you a hard time about it. I’ll have a word with them.’

  ‘You don’t have to do that.’

  ‘Won’t it make things easier if I tell them to stop?’

  ‘I’d rather they hear it from me,’ Nikki said. ‘If you rush out there to defend me, it’ll just confirm what they think.’

  ‘Fine then,’ Sam said. ‘As long as you know that I hired you because you’re reliable. You’re a good worker. I could see that in you right away.’

  ‘That’s the opposite of what my law tutor said. He pretty much said I didn’t even bother trying.’

  ‘You knew what you didn’t want to waste your time with. That’s a skill in itself. Honestly, I wish I’d listened to myself more before taking on this pub. It’s a crumbling mess at the moment and I wish I loved it as much as I’m going to have to pay to keep it from falling apart.’

  Nikki still could not
help feeling self-conscious about her outburst. She returned to her bag to get the business card for Tarampal’s contractor.

  ‘Sam, if you’re interested, these guys are supposed to be quite good and I’m guessing they’re affordable because they’ve done some renovation work for this lady I know in Southall.’

  Sam took the card and then whistled. ‘You’re joking. Affordable? I know this company. I called them for a quote when I wanted to remodel the restrooms. They charge through the roof.’

  ‘Really?’ Nikki asked, taking the card back and examining it. How did Tarampal, living on her own without an income, manage? ‘Hey, Sam, these cutbacks aren’t going to affect my job are they?’

  Sam shook his head. ‘As far as I’m concerned you could work here forever.’

  Nikki smiled with relief. Sam continued. ‘But that doesn’t mean you should. Try something else, Nikki, with that brain of yours and that way you have with people.’

  ‘I still don’t know what that is.’

  ‘You’ll figure it out,’ Sam said. He sighed, looking around. ‘I’d do things differently if I were in my early twenties. I inherited this pub from my dad because it was something to do, but if I hadn’t, I’d have opened a bicycle rental shop on a beachside resort somewhere. I’m tied to this place now. It was charming at first and for a while I loved stepping into my dad’s shoes but once the novelty wore off, it became just a workplace. I don’t think it would be like that with bicycles, but as long as the pub is standing, I’ve got to stand here with it.’ He shrugged. ‘Obligations, you know?’

  Dancing in the Rain

  He liked to take long showers to wash off the stresses of his long day at work. His wife complained that she never saw him; he was out the door first thing in the morning and then in the evenings he was washing off a day’s worth of grime and sweat from his construction job. The water bills were very high and by the time he was finished, all the hot water was finished as well. ‘I can’t do anything about it,’ he insisted. ‘This is my only chance to relax.’ The wife was hurt. ‘There are other ways to relax that we can both enjoy,’ she reminded him. The man looked at her in confusion as his wife walked away. He shrugged and went into the bathroom and started taking off his clothes. He could feel the soreness in every muscle and the tightness in his shoulders.

 

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