I dreamt of Rashida as she hunted a small ruler in the classroom for Mrs. Patel.
“We don’t usually have such small rulers here,” Rashida told Mrs. Patel. “But this will do for him.”
She pressed the small ruler against my dick, laughing as she read the measurement aloud.
“He’s just a baby,” Rashida told Mrs. Patel. “Such a little dick, memsahib!”
“Maybe he needs to get hard, Rashida.” Mrs. Patel suggested. “Perhaps you can rub him and see if … it … gets a little bigger?”
“Oh, bua! Oh, Rashida. Oh, Mrs. Patel!” I gushed out aloud, rubbing myself furiously as in my imagination, Rashida walked to me.
“Tarek,” She told me. “I am going to rub your little penis.”
“Oh, yes!”
I was so lost in my masturbation that I didn’t realize that I had forgotten to lock the door of my room. I was stroking my cock harder and harder, and mumbling, “Oh, Rashida! Oh, Mrs. Patel! Oh, Rashida!”
Suddenly, the door to my room flew open.
It was Rashida, and she had a broom in her hand. She had meant to clean the room, and had knocked. Unfortunately, as the door wasn’t locked and bolted, Rashida’s knock had sent it flying open. She walked in, and stood transfixed at the sight in front of her. Here I was, eyes shut, repeatedly rubbing my weenie, and murmuring “Mrs. Patel! Rashida!” when she had walked in!
And there she was — dressed in a green sari, tucked over to one side as she had been working profusely, her big stomach and belly button completely exposed. Her bosom was heaving, and I could see a little sweat on the blouse material around her arm pits due to her hard work. Now she stood starting at my exposed manhood, and a sly smile creeping to her lips.
“What’s going on, baba?”
Oh I was scared. My dick immediately flopped. Would she tell my parents? Rashida knew exactly what I was doing.
“Oh, bua, please, I am sorry.” I immediately started to apologize to her, using the respectful term bua (which meant aunt). I usually called the maids by their names, but here I was, calling her bua. I did not think then what I had thought later — why was I apologizing to her? She had barged into my room!
“I am so sorry, bua.” I cried, trying to hastily put my engorged prick back into my underwear. “Please, it won’t happen again. Please don’t tell my parents.”
“Well, Tarek Zia!” Rashida replied, “This is highly unusual, you know. There’s two women in the house!”
She always called me ‘baba’. Here she was, calling me by my full name.
“Please, please, bua, I am so sorry. You see, I don’t know what came over me. Please, I will never do this again.” I was close to blubbering.
“You left the door open on purpose, Tarek.” Rashida accused me. “You left it so I would open it and see your … nunu! What dirty game are you playing? Why are you showing me your nunu?”
The Bengali word for penis was nunu. Rashida was accusing me of exposing myself to her on purpose!
“No, bua, please believe me!”
Rashida smiled a naughty smile. I noticed she made no move to leave and shut the door, as a normal maid would have done had she interrupted her master’s private moments. Instead, she towered over me, completely dominating the situation. I also realized that with the door still open, Rubina could walk in any time as well.