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It all started with helping aunty Jyoti hook her bra after her shower

This story takes place towards the end of my college. I was over
twenty and ripe with energy that I didn’t know where it came from;
energy that kept me restless and got me into trouble more than once.

There were five members in our household: my uncle, his wife, my
grandmother, my younger aunt, and myself. My younger aunt was the
smallest of my mother’s siblings and was still waiting to be married.
But this story is not about her; it is about my uncle’s wife.

My uncle’s wife didn’t really like my presence in what would technically
be considered her house. I was entrusted into my uncle’s guardianship
due to circumstances beyond my control and she had no choice but to
accept my presence, but it was very clear from the beginning that she
did so reluctantly. Our interaction, most of the time, was as minimal as
possible.

My room was a bit isolated from the rest of the house because of its
purpose as a guest room. My daily routine was set so that after coming
home from college, I would eat my lunch and disappear from the rest of
the family until it was dinner time. After that I would disappear until
the next. My family members only interacted with me if there was
something I needed to help with but usually I kept to myself and they to
themselves.

The first incident that brought about a minor change was on a rather hot
day when my uncle’s wife — her name is Jyoti — came to my room and
asked me to hook her bra in the back. She was fresh out of bath,
probably to stay cool, and I assumed my younger aunt or my grandmother
was not around, so she had come to me for help.

It is not uncommon for ladies to ask some male child in the house to do
this kind of thing when there are no females available. Only the
children are supposed to be a lot younger than I was because of modesty.
It is very uncommon to ask a sexually mature boy to do it because of the
feelings it can arouse. To top it all, it was the aunt that really
didn’t like me, so I had to assume she had no other choice.

She was holding her shirt in front to cover herself and she had moved
her wet and dripping hair around her neck to the front as well. Her back
was bare for me to see. I had helped my younger aunt many times with the
same, so the routine was nothing new to me. I averted my eyes as much as
possible and quickly managed to hook her bra. She flicked her hair back
onto her back and started to put her shirt on. Once it was on her, she
pulled her hair out and straightened them and uttered a quick thank you
and left without looking at me.

My uncle’s wife is not as slim as my younger aunt is because of being
married and all. She is wider in her back and has a few bulges around
where the nala of her shalwar is tied. Her back is also meatier, so when
my fingers rubbed on her back, it felt nicer than it had been with my
other aunt. When I went back to my books after she had left, her shiny,
brown skin stayed as background effect on the pages.

The incident faded from memory soon. It was about a week or so later
when she came to my room again and asked me to hook her bra. This time
she was not straight out of the bath; instead she was coming from her
room where it seemed she was getting ready to go somewhere. She was
wearing new, ironed clothes and was smelling of nice perfume, which she
usually only does when she and my uncle go visit somebody in another
village. It was Sunday, so that made sense because my uncle was home and
must have planned a small trip.

I was surprised a bit when I realized that if my uncle was home, then
why did she come to me to hook her bra? He could have done it for her. I
assumed that my younger aunt and my grandmother were not available yet
once again; that’s why she came to me. Probably my uncle had stepped out
or something.

This time she wore a bright coloured bra. The reddish colour of the
material actually overpowered the brownish colour of her skin and it was
the colour of her bra that stayed in my mind, instead of the colour of
her skin. My fingers retained the nice warmth of her skin a while longer
as well.

Still everything was on the up and up. I didn’t make anything out of it,
although I did feel a bit uncomfortable having to do something at my age
which usually women ask children much younger than me to do. She was my
aunt though and it was perfectly okay for her to come to me, as I was
her nephew, which was almost the same as being her son.

One morning, as I was about to leave for school, she asked me to come
with her before going out. My uncle had already gone and my younger aunt
and my grandmother were busy somewhere around or out of the house. I
followed her to her room. As I waited for her to tell me what she wanted
me to do, she crossed her hands in front of her, grabbed her shirt from
the sides and started to lift it up and off of her. Her back was towards
me, so I couldn’t really see anything that I hadn’t seen before. She
didn’t have a bra on as I was able to see her entire back without being
distracted by the strap.

She bent over a little and picked up a bra from her bed and started to
wrap it around her breasts. It was during that bending and extending her
hands outward to put her bra on that I saw the sides of her breasts
clearly. She held the two straps on her back and asked me to hook her
up. I moved close to her quickly and did as I was told. She picked her
shirt up, put her hands through the bottom and slid it over her head and
onto her body.

She turned around as she was still fixing it and smiled. She thanked me
for the help and I took my leave to go to school. All day I kept seeing
the sides of her breasts in my mind and kept thinking about the way she
had fixed her shirt around her breasts after she thanked me. Even her
smile seemed special in the afterglow of her breasts shining from her
sides. I had finally seen a glimpse of a small part of a woman’s
breasts. It was special.

I did wonder why she didn’t ask any other member of the family to hook
her up, specially my uncle because she must have put her shirt on in his
presence. Then I thought that may be she just forgot and when she did
remember, I was the only one around.

I knew it was a rare occurrence to see that much of her because chances
of that happening again were very little. My younger aunt or someone
else would normally be around to take care of the situation. It came as
a big surprise when a few days later she asked me again to help her
before going to school.

As before, she removed her shirt and looked for her bra to put on. It
wasn’t on the bed. She looked around to see where it was and found it
sitting on her dresser. She had to turn left to go there and that meant
that she had to expose her naked front to me. She put her hands on her
breasts, sort of cupped them, and went to the dresser. I tried to look
down to avoid seeing anything, but not before I got an eyeful. I saw her
front; except the parts that were covered by her hands. I was
embarrassed by the situation and felt a little flustered, but it was
exciting as well. I actually felt a little warm.

She went to the dresser and put the bra on her breasts while my eyes
stayed glued to the floor. She called me once she had put it on and held
it in position. I moved behind her to do the hooking. Only she was
standing in front of a mirror and I could see both sides of her; her
back directly and her front through the reflection in the mirror. Tried
as I might but I couldn’t help looking into the mirror. She was looking
directly at me and our eyes met.

I felt embarrassed by being so “caught” by her, but I had no choice. I
saw her cleavage, her belly, her belly button, and the part below her
navel. A sudden rush in my blood flow made my vision go blurry but I
recovered quickly. I hooked her bra and left without saying anything. I
didn’t even give her a chance to say thank you this time. I was feeling
ashamed of having seen my aunt so without clothes.

I don’t know what made me stop and look back as I stepped out of the
door. She was facing me and was watching me leave. Our eyes met again,
this time directly, without the benefit of a reflection. She seemed lost
somewhere and gave me a slight smile but didn’t say anything. I rushed
out of there as fast as I could.

Her cleavage, her belly, and the area below her navel stayed in my mind
all through the day, as did the embarrassment. When I came home that
afternoon, I didn’t have the courage to even go eat my lunch. I was
afraid of coming face to face with her. I didn’t know if she was upset
at my boldness of looking at her directly that morning.

I was very hungry though and I couldn’t even think, let alone do my
homework, because my brain needed some nourishment. I was startled when
she came to my room with my food. I was grateful for her thoughtfulness
and I even managed to come out and eat where we normally eat our food.

She let a few days pass before she asked me to hook her bra up again.
This time she didn’t need to go to the dresser so everything was
standard. Except when I finished hooking her up, she didn’t put her
shirt on. She actually turned around to face me in just her bra. Her
shirt stayed on the bed.

She smiled and thanked me and asked me if it was becoming too much for
me to do this small thing for her. My eyes were focused on her chest. I
tried, but failed, to reciprocate her smile. I was too nervous to speak
or to do anything else. I just shook my head and took my leave.

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