“Yes, Sarun.” Narges replied. I noticed that she too called Mr. Sarun by name.
“Fateh.” Mr. Sarun turned to her husband. “Go to the servants’ quarters after you are done your dinner. I don’t need you for the day anymore. And you can take your wife with you as well. I won’t need her tonight.”
“Yes, saabji.” Fateh said. I immediately realized that unlike his wife, Fateh did not take Mr. Sarun’s name, but called him saabji out of respect. Also, I pondered on the phrase Mr. Sarun had used.
I won’t need her tonight.
Maybe, like Rukmani, Narges was also a comfort girl for Mr. Sarun. This was a proper harem.
“Imtiaz.” Mr. Sarun thunderous voice broke my thoughts as my boss turned to the driver. “In about half an hour, go and pour some expensive French wine and bring it out to the pool.”
“Yes, saabji.”
I noticed that Imtiaz also did not take Mr. Sarun’s name, calling him saabji out of respect, unlike his wife Rukmani, who had no trouble calling him “Sarun” when he had been porking her ass.
“Good.” Now Mr. Sarun turned to Rukmani. “Come with us to the pool.”
“Yes, Sarun.”
My boss led the way, and like his minions, Rukmani, Vidya and I followed him outside to the pool.
***
The pool had big deck chairs one could lounge in. As I said, it was a warm summer evening, and the air was still humid. Mr. Sarun told us to sit, so I took one chair and lay down, as did Vidya. My boss remained standing.
“I hope you don’t mind,” He turned to Vidya and told her, “If I get a little massage from Rukmani here. It has been a long day, and I need to unwind.”
“No, of course not, Sirjee.” Vidya replied. I saw that she was now starting to call him Sirjee out of respect.
“Thank you.”
Mr. Sarun then proceeded to unbutton and take off his shirt. He stood there, his muscles glistening, and his broad shoulders flexing as he stretched. My wife could not but help gasp.
“My, my!” She remarked. “You certainly take care of yourself well, Sirjee.”
Was it my imagination or was she actually flirting a little with my boss?
“Of course!” Mr. Sarun laughed. “That’s what happens when you have smart guys like your husband working for you. I have him do all the grunt work so I get richer, meanwhile I am free to work out and enjoy life.”
“Yes, Sirjee.”
Mr. Sarun laid down on his face on one of the lounge chairs. Immediately Rukmani, who had a small bottle of oil in her hand, poured a bit of it across his shoulders and started to massage his back.
We watched as she expertly pressed his shoulders, rubbed his back, and ran her elbow down his spine. After sometime, Mr. Sarun had enough. He sat up, and then facing us, he beckoned Rukmani to stand closer to him.
Without any other word, as we watched, Mr. Sarun’s fingers traced their way to Rukmani’s blouse, and he started to pop open the buttons one by one. Rukmani just stood there with a smile on her face, as if being denuded in front of Mr. Sarun’s guests was a common occurrence with her. Within minutes, Rukmani’s blouse and bra were undone, and her tits were now hanging out for all to see. Mr. Sarun grabbed one breast and started to squeeze it.