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Shyam Uncle, the Neighbourhood Pervert!

After my mom and I returned home, we saw our servant waiting for us in the living room cutting some vegetables. When he saw my mom's condition, he kept staring at her with lust-filled eyes. His hungry eyes were fixed on the side of her wet blouse that was clinging to her mature body. Also, her hair was in a severe mess and I'm sure that seeing her in such a nasty state, this low-class servant had some idea as to what she had been through. My mother then quickly went to the bathroom to have another shower. I was tired after having that immense orgasm and so I went to my room and slept off.

I woke up in the afternoon when it was close to 3 pm. The reason I woke up was because I heard male voices coming from our downstairs living room. I was surprised because Haria was scheduled to finish his work by 2pm and leave. But I realized later that the male voice I heard didn't belong to Haria or even my dad. It was the voice of Shyam Uncle who had been spying on my mother this morning, when she was being used by our servant. To recall, he was a man in his mid-fifties, with a pot-belly and an ugly rugged face. I hurriedly went to the staircase and started peeping into the living room from there.

Shyam Uncle was sitting on the sofa, wearing a yellow shirt and black trousers. My mother came with a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits. She was wearing a modest red-colored silk nighty that she often wore when we had visitors. The nighty was half-sleeved and covered most of her body, except her forearms. When she bent to set the items in her hand on the tea-table, Shyam Uncle's eyes trialed towards the small gap created in her nighty due to the bend and I'm sure he must've had a short glimpse of my mom's tits. For a moment, my mom too saw what he was doing and immediately stood up to avert further embarrassment. Her face was filled with anger as well as a sense of anxiety. She knew what this perverted man had seen her doing and could very well use it against her.

"Shikha, aaj tumi amae ja dekhiecho, seta dekhe ami ekebare pagol hoegechi!" ("Shikha, after seeing what you showed me today, I've totally gone crazy!"), he said, baring his dirty yellow teeth with a cocky smile. I was surprised to hear him calling my mom by her first name. Before, he used to address her as just 'Didi' or 'Shikha Di'.

My mother was surprised too and she was almost shaking now. "Ki... Ki sob bolchen apni?" ("What...What are you saying?")

"Thik i toh bolchi. Tumi emon i maal je jekono manush tomae dekhlei gorom hoejabe." ("I'm telling the truth. You're such a sweet piece of work that if any man sees you, then he will instantly become hot.")

Trying to get some control of the situation, my mom yelled aggresively, "Ki bolchen ta ki? Apnar matha kharap hoegeche! Jan! Beriye jan ghor theke!" ("What are you saying? You've gone crazy! Get out! Get out of my house!")

But Shyam Uncle appeared as cool and confident as ever. "Darao Shikha darling, eto taratari rege jeo na." ("Wait, Shikha darling, don't get angry so fast.")

"Tomar nongra jibh theke amar naam ekdom nebe na! Bero bolchi, ghor theke! Noeto ami chilliye lok joro korbo." ("Don't utter my name with your dirty tongue. Just get out! Otherwise, I'll scream and call the neighbors.") My mom understood that this man had no evidence to prove his claims and therefore, would not be able to harm her or rat her out in front of anyone. Plus, over the years, Shyam Uncle had gathered a bad reputation in the neighborhood since he always had eyes for other people's wives. He was the neighborhood pervert. Whenever he met any woman, his eyes used to shamelessly trail towards their private parts and this hardly went unnoticed. That's why, very few people liked him. So, my mom knew that if she were to gather the people from nearby houses, they would most definitely believe her word against this pervert's.

But, Shyam Uncle had an ace up his sleeve, which he hadn't revealed yet. "Tumi chaile lok joro korte paro. Kintu agey amar kache tomar jonn ekta gift ache. Seta dekhe nao." ("You can gather as many people as you want. But first let me show you a gift.") He poked his hand inside his trouser pocket and brought out a digital camera. "Asho, dekhe jao." ("Come, see this.")

My mother slowly and reluctantly walked closer to where he was sitting. "Chinta koro na. Ami ekhuni tomar gaye haath debo na. Setar jonno prochur somoe ache. Ei chobigulo dekhlei bujte parbe." ("Don't worry. I won't touch you just yet. There's plenty of time for that. You'll understand what I'm saying when you take a look at these pictures."), he said.

Ignoring his words, my mother sat on the tea-table close to him and Uncle Shyam turned the digital screen towards my mother. Then he began to sift through the photos. Her expression changed to one of shock and embarrassment as she glanced through one photo after another. Although I had not seen the pictures myself, I could very well guess what they were.

Shyam Uncle enjoyed the look of fear and shock on my mother's face and decided to torture her some more. "Dekhcho Shikha, ki odbhut sundor lagche tomae. Ami onekdin dhorei tomae dekchilam, lukiye lukiye tomar chobi tulchilam. Tumi majhe majhei snan kore beriye janla bondo korte bhule jao ar dress change korte thako. Tokhon prae tomae langto obosthay dekhtam. Jotobari tomar ei forsa tight deho ebong sundor mukh dekhtam, amar lund ta tene jeto." ("See Shikha, how unbelievably beautiful you're looking. I've been watching you for a long time, taking your pictures while in hiding. Several times you have come out of the bathroom and forgotten to close your dressing room window, beforechanging. That's when I used to see you naked. Everytime I saw you're fair tight body and beautiful face, my dick
got so hard.") Shyam Uncle then openly started caressing his crotch over his trousers. His demeaning seductive words - like "langto" and "doodh" - had begun to have an effect on my mother as well, since I saw her nipple impressions clearly showing as they streched against the fabric of her nightgown. Plus, beads of sweat began to form on her forehead as she slowly grasped who was in control.

Shyam Uncle continued, "Ami goto du-teen maash dhore tomar chobi tulchi. Majhe majhe bra-panty pora obosthay, majhe majhe khali blouse ar petticoat, r majhe majhe langto obosthay. Uff tumi jano na tomar ei chobi dekhe ebong tomar modok cheharar kotha chinta kore kotobar mooth merechi." ("I have been taking pictures of you in various stages of undress, for the past three months. Sometimes when you're wearing bra and panties, sometimes when you're wearing blouse and petticoat, sometimes when you're totally nude. Uff you have no idea how many times I've masturbated while watching your pictures and thinking about your hot mature body.") He started pressing and squeezing his dick more vigorously making the atmosphere even more tantalizing.

My mother's mouth gaped open when he showed her the latest set of pictures. "Tobe sobcheye obak ami aaj sokale hoechi jokhon tomar chakor ke tomae langto kore tomar ei rosalo deher sathe khela korte dekhechi." ("Though I was more surprised today morning when I saw your servant taking off your clothes and playing with your juicy body.") My mom lowered her head in shame. The worst insult came when he showed her the last photo. "Ei dekho. Eta amar favorite."

("Watch this. This is my favorite.") She looked for a second and then turned away, closing her eyes. Shyam Uncle, though, continued to run his mouth. "Ki darun lagchile tumi khali panty pora obosthay oi janlar grill gulo dhore darie. R pechon theke tomader ghorer chakor jore jore tomar rosalo mai tipche ar tomar forsa chikna ghar e chumu khache. Uff ki scene chilo seta!" ("You were looking so great, wearing just a panty and standing against those window grills. And you're servant was squeezing your juicy tits from behind while kissing your tasty white smooth neck. What a scene that was!")

Out of impulse and excitement, he suddenly wrapped his free hand across my mom's waist which caused her to jump off the tea-table in surprise. "Eta...ki korchen apni? Apni bolechilen amake choben na." ("What...what are you doing? You said you weren't going to touch me."), she said with a much lower base. Uncle Shyam bit his tongue. "Oho! Amari bhul. Kintu tomar ei darun sexy chobigulo dekhe ami aar nijeke shamlate parini. Ei chobigulo bikri korle prochur poisha pawa jabe." ("Oho! My mistake. But I couldn't stop myself after watching all these sexy photos of yours. These pictures will fetch good money if I decide to sell them.")

My mother immediately folded her hands and pleaded, "Na please, erom korben na. Apni ja bolben, jerom bolben, ami seromi korbo." ("No, please don't do this. I'll do whatever you ask, in return.")

A wicked smile crossed his dirty lips. "Good. Tahle ajker theke tumi amar ghulam. Ami jerom bolbo tomae serom korte hobe." ("Good. Then, from today onwards, you're my slave. You'll do whatever I say.")

My mother shook her head. "Kintu amar swami ar chele jante parle?" ("But what if my husband or son finds out?")

"Chinta koro na. Oder samne tumi sati-sabitri hoye thakbe, kintu amar samne amar ghulam hoye. Bujhecho?" ("Don't worry. In front of them you'll remain a devoted wife and mother, but with me you'll act like my slave. Is that clear?")

With her head held low, she replied, "Hain. Thikache." ("Okay. As you wish.") "Tahle ami ja ja jigesh korchi seta sotti kore uttor dao. Tumi ei nighty'r bhetore ki pore acho?" ("Then you'll answer everything I ask truthfully. What are you wearing underneath this nightgown?")

Without looking into his eyes, my mother replied, "K...Kichu na. Ami bhetore kichu pore nei." ("N...Nothing. I'm not wearing anything underneath.")

The old man's eyes lit up in excitement. "Tai naki? Tahle tomar bedroom e cholo. Ami dekhte chai tumi sotti bolcho na mithe." ("Really? Then let's go to your bedroom. I want to test if you're telling the truth or not.
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