Love, sex and crimes of Maya Rani,Vol-1 ( End of Innocence) Read online

  End of Innocence

  “A successful girl’s brain lives in her ‘Bulbul’. She should think, act and plan from there. Not knowing this has been the bane of women for centuries and has led to their domestication by men.”

  Contents

  Ch-1 : Epilogue as Prologue

  Ch-2 : Aunt Vidya, Bulbul and Munni

  Ch-3 : RITA and MAHESH

  Ch-4 : RANJIT DUBEY

  Ch-5 : SANDEEP and I

  Ch-6 : The CITY

  Ch-7 : AMARPREET AND I

  Ch-8 : The Slight

  Ch-9 : The Plan and The Plot

  Ch-10 : Lull After the Storm

  Ch-11 : End of the Beginning

  Ch-1

  Epilogue as Prologue

  Maya Rani’s gaze was playing with the masculine forms in her mansion till they found him. Rahul. Her eyes zeroed in on the young hand hired for the household work. He was adjusting the candle stands. She loved to collect candles and candle stands from all over the world. These candles were of many hues and various shapes. They were of many sizes too. They satisfied her aesthetic sense and desires. She used them for many... well purposes.

  Nature has been generous to her. A tall and voluptuous woman she keeps herself trim and in shape by watching what she ate and always adhering to regular Yoga sessions. She had seized a vast political empire and the perks that go with it. She knows how to use the guile and guts and has mastered the use of both. Maya Rani is an intelligent woman. At 45 years of age she knows how to make best use of money and power. Constant and vigorous Yoga sessions have hidden her years. The curves, circles and tresses give nothing away.

  “Come I’ll show you. The right way to place the candle”, Maya Rani gestured at him and slowly walked into her bed-room.

  “Yes mam please”, said Rahul following her into the room. Maya Rani’s gaze shifted as he came near her and stood at a distance from her bed.

  “Rahul what’s your age dear?” Maya Rani said as she half-reclined on her bed

  “Ni...Nineteen mam”, Rahul could hardly face her stare and his eyes could not concentrate. He feared her. She made him uncomfortable.

  “What’s the money you are making here? Salary I mean, dear”

  “5000 mam”

  “What if that is increased to 10000. Then Rahul! What will it mean to you? Then...” Maya Rani said her eyes fixed on him as her shawl slipped down her shoulder with a slight jerk.

  “Well mam what can I say. Mam it will help me, mam”, Rahul was curious and terrified. He knew her too well to be that.

  “One has to earn the rise. Rahul do what I say, but don’t say what you did!” Maya Rani gestured him to sit on the bed.

  “Mam...” Rahul sat there, hesitating for a moment.

  “Well, Rahul”, Maya Rani said placing her hand on his thigh,”if you do as I say, you’ll prosper. Otherwise Rahul, time is not good. Accidents keep happening everyday. Life is cheap. Lost easily! I hope you understand my boy...” she said as her hand slipped up his thigh. Her fingers were slowly inching towards their goal.

  “Well mam... as you say... I’ll do! I’ll do what you say. Mam...” Rahul was fully aware of the situation. Its rewards and its dangers!

  “Intelligent I knew it! Now don’t waste your time. Take this cream. Apply it on my legs. On my thighs. All over! Slowly! Be harsh on me darling, or else, I’ll be...” she said placing her hand on his crotch and pointing towards the cream on the table.

  Maya Rani pulled her gown up as she spread herself comfortably on the bed. The roots of her thighs were clearly visible, shining black!

  As his hands moved slowly though firmly on her well toned, smooth, fair thighs she placed one leg on his shoulder, while the other one rubbed him on his crotch. Stretching her hands above her head she closed her eyes...

  Ch-2

  Aunt Vidya, Bulbul and Munni

  Maya Rani was born for only one thing. To be Maya Rani! Like all curvaceous, voluptuous women, Maya Rani was also born small. Let Maya Rani tell her story as it happened. She knows it better than all of us.

  *………………*

  I was born in a village. Not remote. Neither back of the beyond. But then village is a village you know. It lacks many of the facilities and amenities of the city. But if you happened to be a wealthy farmer, which my father was, you could arrange many things. He arranged for many comforts which money could buy. He grew sugarcane in his fields and sold it profitably to the sugar mills. Apart from that he owned a brick-kiln and a fleet of 3 buses and 5 trucks. He was a family man and a true patriarch who was quite conservative in his views. But he loved his family. He cared a lot for us. He dabbled in the local politics too and used his money well to create power and with that power to create more money. My mother was a religious lady and most of her time was spent in worship and keeping God in good humor by fasting and indulging in various rituals. Kitchen was her playground and cooking was her hobby. There were two of us. My elder brother, three years elder to me, and I. My early schooling was done in the local village school. Brother was put in a reputed Public School of the city. It was a residential school and my brother was a hostler. He said that he loved the hostel life much. Every month he visited us. My parents however, went to meet him every week-end. Oh! How I loved those week-ends. My very dear aunt Vidya and I!

  I forgot to tell you about my aunt Vidya. She was the youngest of my father’s siblings. About 30 years old at the time I am talking about. My! What a blissful age is to be around 30 for women. The age at which she has all the experience and the strength to try it too. The age at which she has mastered the way without turning grey. Best part of women’s life. She looks best at this age. Such was my aunt Vidya! She was ten years younger to my father. Aunt Vidya had become a widow five years back. Since then she had lived with us. She was like the third child to my father or shall I say like the first one. People say that her husband had died, when the gun which he was cleaning, accidentally went off. Some say that he was the victim of the family feud and he was murdered. Nobody knew the exact cause of his death. Just that there was a bang, and when everybody rushed in, he was lying in a pool of blood. His gun lay by his side and he was lying there alone. All I knew is that aunt Vidya was a member of our house and that’s that.

  Well, it was aunt Vidya who told me everything about ‘Bulbul’ and ‘Munni. Bulbul and Munni? Aunt Vidya’s version of telling you about birds and bees. She was the one who introduced me to my body. She was the one who brought forth the knowledge about the treasures hidden in my body. What pleasures it could give and which pleasures it was capable of receiving. She was the one who taught me the best lessons of my life. The lessons which served me well in my life. She taught me that if a girl uses her body, well, judiciously (?), there’s no door in the world that can’t be opened and no achievement unachievable.

  At 30 years of age aunt Vidya was ‘ample’. She was tall and fair. With a figure like that she had the face of a baby. Her ample breasts sloped down to a flat and smooth stomach. Further they rose to ample hips and well-rounded thighs. They jiggled heavily as she walked. This is the first hand account of what I had actually seen. Aunt Vidya loved me very much. No, no, not an ordinary love! Her love was of a special kind!

  Youth had just dawned on me. Strange things were happening to my body. My chest was fast losing its flatness. The planes were turning to hillocks. The patch above my thighs had darkened. Strange feelings had begun to take me in their grip. My interests were shifting to things muscular and hard. It was at this impressionable age that aunt Vidya entered my life and engulfed my being with her knowledge of Bulbul and Munni.


  I told you that my parents visited my brother on week-ends. So on Sundays I was left in the ‘loving’ care of aunt Vidya. It was on one of these Sundays that I was initiated into the esoteric world of Bulbul and Munni. The classes were held in bathroom. She would undress me fully and follow the same herself. My! How enormous aunt Vidya looked. A naked body looks completely different from a covered one. It’s amazing! She would put a stool under the shower. She would then sit comfortably on the stool and take me on her well-padded lap. I enjoyed sitting on the live cushion. As the water fell upon us she would massage and rub my neck, shoulders, breasts, belly, down to the dark patch and suddenly slip and dip into my Bulbul between my thighs. Yes, she called it Bulbul. (A popular and lovely bird ). You must be thinking if Bulbul was that (!) then what was Munni? Well, a girl carries a Bulbul between her thighs and a boy carries a Munni between his! Ways of aunt Vidya were strange! So much for Bulbul and Munni! Now for the action! She would move her palms and fingers dexterously and explore every inch of my body. Her slow and deliberate movements transported me to the land of ecstasy and my Bulbul would get thoroughly wet to the point of ‘leaking’. As she applied soap on my body not ignoring any part of it, I would close my eyes and raise my hands to encircle them around her neck. With not an iota of strength left in my body I leaned on her. My breathing would become as hard as aunt Vidya’s and it would be only thing audible there apart from the sound of falling water. As her soapy hands moved inch by inch over my body I would squirm and moan under her loving care! After bathing me thoroughly she would dry herself and me with the towel. She would then take me to the adjoining bed-room and push me gently on to the bed. Then she would herself move on to the bed and lie there in half-reclining position. She would place my head on her lap with her ample breasts jiggling over my face. She would then put the nipple of her globe in my mouth as I played with the other one. As the minutes ticked by her fingers would slip down my belly into my Bulbul. She showed me the ‘point’ in my Bulbul which she called the heart of the Bulbul. She said that when you tickled or rubbed it, it would make you happy. Every time she did that to the ‘point’ a shiver ran down my spine and I would twitch my Bulbul. Aunt Vidya would laugh whenever I did so. She dug slowly and pinched carefully. She would carry on this to a point that I would implode. Whole body would go limp. Her nipple would slip out of my mouth. My hands and feet would become numb. A strange feeling would descend upon me, as if hundreds of crackers were bursting inside me. Slowly I would become aware of a strange smell making way to my nostrils. The smell of the sweat. And, the smell of milk. Sweat and milk together. ‘Sweatened Milk’ for sure! That was better than any sweetened milk you could have. We would laugh heartily whenever I told her this. Anaesthetized by the act and the smell, I would drift into sleep as aunt Vidya slowly and lovingly combed my hair with her fingers.

  *……………………………*

  The days were slipping by happily. I had the full attention of a doting aunt and nothing much to do except whiling away the time in the courtyards and the backyards of the house. Being a girl and that too a young girl of a conservative family meant that my life centered around my family going as per the wishes of my parents. I was confined behind the boundary walls of my house. Had the periodic relief provided by aunt Vidya not been there I would have led a boring and plain life. But we were very careful. While my parents were there I could not even think of the escapades that we indulged in.

  Between all this I must tell you one thing that I was very good at studies. I always yearned to go to the school my brother went to. Like a bird I wanted to soar. I felt claustrophobic in the village environment. My father was very loving and caring. But, when it came to the matter pertaining to girls, their education or their independence, he seemed to have his ideas very strong and pretty conservative. To give vent to my feelings and to unchain my soul I took to writing poem and wrote quite a few of them. Aunt Vidya was the lonely audience and the only critic. She would listen to me intently and would always appreciate me for my efforts. There was one particular poem she liked the best. She would often ask me to sing it for her. It was more of a song than a poem. I had a good voice and I loved to sing for her. She would often add her voice to mine and together we would sing it swaying on the swing in the courtyard. I still remember that poem and the words still echo inside my heart. I hope you’ll like it. Here I go,

  If you wish to love,

  Don’t make me wait so long!

  Off my feet just sweep me,

  And carry me along.

  If you wish to love me,

  Don’t wait for me to grow!

  Pluck this bud that’s me,

  Before a gust may blow.

  If you wish to love me,

  Don’t wait for me to sing!

  Slides some notes towards me,

  With words on which to cling.

  If you wish to love me,

  Don’t wait for me to nod!

  Knock my senses off me,

  I’ll love it, Oh My God.

  If you wish to love me,

  Don’t wait for me to move!

  Rush your steps towards me

  And keep me on the groove.

  If you wish to love me,

  Don’t wait for me to say!

  Tell all that which suits me,

  And carry all the day.

  If you wish to love me,

  Don’t make me wait so long!

  Off my feet just sweep me,

  And carry me along.

  Aunt Vidya and I loved to sing it together. I often wondered in those years whether I was destined to take the same path that my mother had treaded. Marriage, children, family and so on. Somehow I knew and a voice deep in my heart always told me that, Maya Rani you are different. You are not destined for these things. And see, how my life has been affected by the circumstances and by my tireless effort to make them work to my advantage. But being Maya Rani I knew that I was the child as well as the master of my destiny. It was then that Rita crossed my fate line. She was my age, a dear friend and the daughter of my father’s friend and business associate, Ranjit Dubey. But what made her special in my life was the fact that, she was the one for whom my brother’s heart beat.

  In my village and many other villages nearby no other sugarcane growers were as big, as rich and as powerful as two people. Ranjit Dubey and Balram Yadav. Friends as they were, their families, their past together with their future was so much entwined that it was but natural that Rita Dubey and Mahesh Yadav, the representatives of the next generation should come together. But this togetherness was not that easy to achieve. It was going to be thoroughly tested and would require a Maya Rani to bring it to successful completion.

  Since Rita Dubey had entered and crossed my fate line through my brother Mahesh, let him be the narrator for a while and tell us how their love story began.

  Ch-3

  RITA and MAHESH

  Living and studying in the prestigious D.P. Public School was a dream come true for many students of many age. At least my dream had materialized. Besides being good at studies I was one of the shining stars of the sports field. Whatever, I was able to get the glances from the girls. And that mattered.

  I still remember it was the 15th of august. Independence Day. After the function was over few of us were moving for the picnic to the picturesque dam nearby. We were quite excited. Our group comprised of girls and boys both. The students were from 9th to the 12th class. I was in twelfth standard. I was the leader of the group, being the Head Boy of the school. We were 30 in number. Mr.P.K.Singh, the sports teacher accompanied us. All the students were moving in and out of the bus. Suddenly a group rushed towards the school. What the hell! We were about to move and look at these girls, I thought and cursed. Gross indiscipline! However a few minutes later they came and the bus moved.

  1,2,3,…….,27,28,29,30. No, no not 30. Only 29 were there. What the hell! We were 30. How come only 29? That meant that somebody was missing. Must be
one of those girls who had rushed to the school and then had come back again as the bus was going to leave. So who was missing? Suddenly Mr.Singh spoke in a thoroughly irritated tone.

  “Mahesh, that girl Rita! She is the one missing.”

  “Yes, Sir. She is the one who is missing”, I was equally irritated.

  Bus had by then stopped under the shade of a big tree by the side of the road. Mr.Singh and all of us were pondering on what to do. I was the one who was most concerned. She happened to be girl from my village. Apart from that she was the daughter of my father’s close friend. She herself was my sister’s friend. But the main reason why I was concerned was because I liked her very much. Through her smile and actions she had given the positive response. She had really blossomed in a single year from a skinny tall girl to a curvaceous tall beauty. The glow of the face and the shine in her hair had astounded many. She had become the talk of the school. Suddenly, I saw Rakesh coming on the bike.

  ”Rakesh. Raaakesh. Stop, stop”, I shouted at the top of my voice.

  “Yes, Mahesh”, Rakesh stopped and came towards the bus not knowing why I had frantically called him.

  “Give me your bike”, I said nearly snatching the bike from him and then turning towards Mr.Singh I said, “Sir, you wait for me for 15 minutes. I’ll go on the bike and fetch Rita here.”

  Immediately I sped towards the school. She was there. Standing at the school gate she looked quite sad and was crying. Oh no!

  “Rita, come. Everybody is waiting for you!” I waved and shouted as I came near her.

  She was surprised to see me. She had least expected it. A smile came and quietly perched on her lips.

  “You? Here? How? She mumbled.

  “Come fast. Hop on the bike. The bus has been stopped just for you a kilometer away. Everyone is waiting for you”, I half lied to her.