She had come to Chennai to attend a Family function. Her sister Sneha was pregnant and in her ninth month. It had been a tiring journey and she reached late in the night and at her sister's place – all were asleep when she reached, her younger brother had come to the station and he quickly got into bed and fast asleep.
But then, it was a hot Chennai night. Hema Balaji kicked off the bedcovers and groaned softly. It was stifling in her room. It must be the hottest night of the year, she thought. Her room felt like an oven.
Even though the window was open, the air outside was just as hot as it was inside. And the humidity was unbearable. She had put on her flimsiest nightie, which only went down to the tops of her thighs and was made of wispy transparent fabric, but even that was too much.
She decided to go to the refrigerator and get a glass of iced tea. Maybe that'll cool me off enough so that I can get some sleep, she thought. And she knew she should get some sleep too. Tomorrow would be a big day. She had the day off from her job as a maid for her sister's 'Seemantham' – the 9th month in a pregnancy for a South Indian Woman. And Hema would also be the maid of honor. She wanted to be at her best, fresh and rested. But how could she do that in this stinking weather?
She tiptoed quietly down the hallway to the kitchen, hoping that at least everyone else was asleep, though she didn't see how they could be in this heat. She knew that Ram, her brother-in-law, and Danush, her younger brother, had stayed up late playing a game, but they must have gone to bed too. The light was out in the living room.
She tiptoed past the guest room, where Ram was sleeping until the wedding tomorrow, and saw no light under the door. It was dark in the kitchen, but she knew the way to the refrigerator. The light inside of it made it possible for her to find a glass and fill it with iced tea.
"Oh, would you pour one for me too, while you're at it?" a voice behind her suddenly asked in a soft whisper.
"What?" Hema, startled, whirled around.
The iced tea she had poured for herself spilled onto the floor. It splashed onto her bare feet.
"Oh shit!" she gasped. "Now look what I've done!"
Again she looked up. In the dim light from the refrigerator, she saw Ram. His body was naked from the waist up, his shoulders muscular and powerful, his chest hairy and broad. He was only about five years older than she was, of course, but she had never thought of him-like that.
And just what do you mean, like that? she asked herself. But Hema could see that she was not exactly the only one who was struck by the moment. She suddenly realized that the weak light from the refrigerator was behind her, illuminating the curves of her own body through the filmy fabric of her nightie.
Ram, naturally, was looking. Quickly, she closed the door. Now they were in the dark.
"God, I've got to mop this up," Hema said.
"Here, I'll help," Ram murmured. "I didn't mean to make you spill it. I was just so hot. I thought I'd come in and get a glass for myself. Then, when I saw you-"
"Oh, I know," Hema said. "It's nothing. I'll clean it up."
She had grown up in the house, so she found her way to the kitchen towels easily. On the way back to the refrigerator, she bumped into Ram in the dark.
"Oh! Excuse me," she said.
But she didn't pull back. Her arm brushed his naked chest.
She could feel his breath on her neck. Finally Hema moved back away from him. But she could feel her pulse racing unexpectedly. She bent down and mopped up the puddle. When she stood up again, he was right there beside her. It was dark, but their faces were just inches away from each other.
"Hema, would you pour a glass for me?" Ram asked in a strange-sounding voice.
"You-could do it for yourself," she said nervously.
"What would you say if I told you I like to see the light shine through your nightgown?" he whispered.
"I don't know. Do you?"
"Yes!"
Suddenly she felt his hand on her face. He tilted her mouth up to his and his lips crushed down on hers. His tongue was inside her mouth before Hema even knew it, searching and probing.
His hands were up inside her flimsy nightie too. They found her firm young naked tits and squeezed them eagerly. His fingers pinched her soft, stiff nipples. Hema gasped.
"Oooohhh! God, we can't do this!" she cried, pulling back. "Ram! You know we can't! What do you think you're doing?"
But he knew very well what he was doing. And she couldn't help responding. Her body grew warm and pliant under his grasp.
"I can't help it, Hema!" he panted, kissing her neck. "I've always wanted you!"
"No, you can't say that," she said. "You're becoming a father soon. You can't have me. You can't want me."
She pulled his hands off her tits and stepped back away from him. But she half-wished he had not let her stop him. Part of her wanted him not to take no for an answer. She wanted him to rip off her nightie and throw her down and fuck her right there on the kitchen floor, even though she knew that was crazy. Her cunt was wet for him.
"I can't help it!" Ram whispered.
"You-have to help it," she said, trying to sound firm.
"Here."
She poured a glass of iced tea for him and handed it to him. She closed the refrigerator door before he could look too long at her body through her nightie. But Ram set the glass on the kitchen table.
He came toward her again. Hema didn't move. This time he encircled her body with his arms and dropped his hands to her ass. He got his hands under the skirt of her nightie and squeezed her high, round ass cheeks.
Hema felt hot arrows of lust shooting through her wet pussy. Oh, God, that feels good! she thought. She kissed him back eagerly this time.
When they stopped kissing, Hema was panting and gasping with excitement. Her blood was hot and racing. She wanted more. After all – she was an experienced Divorced Slut. She was the Corporate Whore for Balu and Sandi. She was full of sex.
