Shanti's breasts floated like life preservers on the surface of the tepid bath water. She turned a page with her wet fingers, and then started, for she realized that for some moments she had been listening to the ringing of the doorbell without realizing it.
"Oh, shit!" she cried, standing up in the tub, the water streaming down through her growing pubic hair on her shaven cunt. She grabbed a towel and made hastily wiped at her dripping body, then hopped out of the shower.
Quickly throwing on the housecoat, she ran through the bedroom and into the living room. Her feet left wet tracks on the stairs down to the front door.
Through the dirty glass of the door, she could see the outline of a man.
If that's Riaz this early, she thought, I'll kill him ~ But when she threw open the door, she saw that it wasn't Riaz.
"Mavvaya, Father in Law!" she gasped.
"Hi, Shanti," Shivu said, swallowing hard. "I bet you're surprised to see me."
Shanti pulled her wet hair away from her face. "Surprised isn't the word," she said. She wondered what he was doing there.
He was dressed in his typical traditional dress–dark-blue Tamil Lungi, hair stained with oil, and a blue denim Tamil shirt.
But he was also wearing a nice angavastaram, which she hadn't remembered him ever wearing before. And in his hands he gripped the neck of a bottle wrapped in a brown paper sack.
She stared at him for several seconds, wondering why he had come. She didn't want to be rude to him–he was her father-in-law, and she was fond of him even if they had separated from him but she wished he had picked a better time to visit her.
"I was taking a bath," she said.
"So I see," he said, grinning, and nodding at the cleavage showing where she gripped the housecoat shut.
Shanti adjusted her grip on the collar of the robe. "Well," she said, "I guess you'd better come in. I'll put something on." She stood aside to let him pass her on the stairs, and then took a quick glance outside to see if anyone had been watching.
As she closed the door she said, trying to be casual, "I thought you worked on Saturdays."
Shivu looked down at her from the top of the stairs. "Only half a day most of the time.
If there's a lot of work, I stay. But there wasn't anything today, so I got the hell out of there. Thought I'd drop in and see you," he said.
"I'll just put on some–"
"No, no," he insisted. "I can only stay a few minutes anyway. Besides, I've seen you in your bathrobe before."
"Look," she said, startling him a little as she slipped over beside him on the couch. She put her hands on his shoulders and made him look at her.
"You're a sweetheart for wanting to help me and Sridhar out, but there's just nothing anyone can do now." She gave him a little kiss on the cheek. "That's for being so sweet," she said.
But Shivu threw his arms around her and, before she knew quite what was happening, her father-in-law had thrown her over backward and pressed himself over her, his bristly beard scratching her face as he tried to kiss her.
"Mr. Shivu! We decided that this will not happen again, you will not touch me again, we have taken vows with your wife as a witness that is why we separated" she gasped, trying to push him away.
"Don't fight me, please, after coming to know of the way you are fucking a entire colony and especially the junky Muslim neighbor, my cock wants its share!" he gasped, his mouth hot against the delicate skin of her throat.
His hands kneaded and squeezed at her breasts through the housecoat.
"Shivu!" she cried, once again trying to rise. "What do you–?"
But he cut her off with a kiss.
She tried to keep her mouth closed, but his hot tongue speared through her lips and pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth.
She could smell the coconut oil in his matted hair. She pushed up at his chest, but he had caught her by surprise and she couldn't get enough leverage to force him away.
Her bare ankle kicked against the chrome edge of the coffee table.
"Miff!" she moaned against his bristly lips.
"You're putting out for everyone else," he growled, only inches from her face. "You can damn well throw a little of that cunt in my direction!"
"No!" she cried. "No! Shivu! No!"
But already he had ripped off the top button to her pink housecoat, his coarse hands diving to embrace the white flesh of her nearly crushed breasts.
"You've got beautiful tits, honey," he said guttural.
"I am thirsting always to get the taste of them again!"
He was trying to nuzzle his mouth into her cleavage, but her struggles effectively prevented him from mouthing her breasts in any but the most cursory manner.
But she could feel the bristles of his beard scraping over her nipples, a sensation which was not quite like either a tickle or an itch. "Stop!" she implored him.
"This is ridiculous! A joke's a joke, but this has gone far enough!"
"I'm going to fuck you, honey," he said.
"Don't say anything. If what you said is true, and you haven't been fucking around, then you must be just as hot for it as I am."
"No! Shivu, no!"
