Maya's Quest
Copyright© 2026 by The Indian Feminist
Chapter 1
“You are here, Maya. Finally,” I said to myself when the airplane landed at the airport in Bengaluru, just four hours before my final round of interview. I accessed the premium lounge, thanks to my credit card. A job offer from a big UK MNC was just around the corner. I had cleared all the preliminary rounds in college. All I needed to do was pass one last interview.
Hailing from a well-off but traditional family, they always pestered me with a lengthy list of rules: dos and don’ts. Score good marks, get an engineering seat in a reputed college, pass with distinction, get placed in an MNC, go abroad for a job ... the list of dos went like this. I had satisfied their conditions by ticking all the boxes. Now just one last box needed to be ticked – the MNC job in the UK. If I cleared this round, I would be left with no obligations to my parents.
What about the don’ts? Typical Indian family rules: no boyfriend, no relationships, blah blah ... blah. Then one interesting part was that my parents allowed me to choose my life partner if I fulfilled all their do-list. Which meant, literally, I would be free once I cleared my final round of interview. So I had traveled from Mumbai to Bengaluru to earn my freedom.
I changed my travel outfit to a professional white shirt, blazer, and navy-blue pants. I took a cab to navigate the horrific traffic of the city, which had started at dawn itself. I reached the company well before the interview. I saw another girl, probably my competitor or maybe colleague, waiting to be interviewed for the same position.
She was a damsel, I should say. Tall, about 5 feet 8 inches, voluptuous, in a knee-length formal tulip skirt and a fitting top, which spoke volumes about her breasts. In short, if the interviewer was a flirt, then he would probably pick her. Because I stood petite at 5 feet 3 inches, and I dressed very formally. Though I had the features to allure anyone, I was not in an outfit to induce such thoughts. My mind was perplexed after looking at her. I decided to flip to my side B!
What was that side B? Well, when you restrict someone with so many rules, you are bound to break the rules. I did the same once I moved to Mumbai to pursue my engineering. From a girls-only school, I moved to a co-ed college. In the first year, I was just another girl who wore modest kurtis and traditional outfits. But in the second year, when I wore a T-shirt for the first time, I gathered all the attention of the boys. I started to develop a kind of liking for it. I wanted more looks; I earned them by changing my dressing sense. I started wearing waist-cut T-shirts, which revealed a hint of my navel whenever I lifted my hands.
The boys would die to get a glimpse of it. They buzzed around me like bees, though I remained reserved and modest, with a limited number of friends. In the third year, I started wearing some loose necks, which seemed normal. But whenever I bent to pick something, that was the moment the boys literally died to see — my sag-less 32-C boobs contained in a bra. On special occasions like fests and events, I used to give such feasts to their eyes. I had shown my side B occasionally, whenever I felt the need, till the final year. Yet I had ensured maintaining my reputation as a studious and career-focused girl. All my exhibits were purely accidental for others.
Back to Bengaluru! I decided to flip to my side B! I reached the restroom and undid all the buttons of my blazer, leaving just the last one. Then I undid the first button of my shirt. There you go! Here I come, the petite damsel! With my confidence high, I cleared the final round of the interview like slicing butter. The interviewer was the HR guy in his 40s, a Sardar uncle from the UK HQ of the company. Since his native place was Nagpur, it was easy for me to build a rapport and clear the final round without any hiccups. He mailed me the offer letter and welcomed me on board. I had to report to London in a month!
“Hurray!” I jumped once I got out of the company, undoing the last button of my blazer. It flew open to reveal some jiggles under my shirt, and a few noticed it. That sent a signal to my side B.
You are free now, Maya! You can do whatever you want! No more rules. You have one month of an unrestricted zone to explore whatever you want – my mind sent me the message.
I informed my parents of the good news over a call. I shared the screenshot of my offer letter in my friends’ group on WhatsApp. Though there were many in the group, only a few were close to me. Sam – my secret crush, Leena – my housemate and junior girl, Riya – her classmate and our mutual friend, Jignesh – Sam’s brother and our senior in college, and Guru – Riya’s lover and Leena’s classmate. All of them congratulated me one by one in replies and started pestering me for the big treat that I had promised them.
“Guys, it’s getting late for my return flight. Let me reach Mumbai, and then we will plan a trip to Lonavala,” I assured them of my treat.
I boarded a cab to the airport and texted Sam personally, “Can you bring Jignesh’s car and pick me up from the airport?” I shared my flight tracker with him.
“Sure, dear!” Sam replied instantly.
I kept my mobile in my jacket pocket and got lost in thoughts about Sam as the cab navigated slowly through the busy traffic of the city. Sam and I had a crush on each other, but we never expressed it. We always maintained the friend zone. There were many tall and handsome guys like Sam in college, but no one garnered my attention like he did.
Mostly because he never ogled me like the other guys. Though we used to discuss kinky gossip about other lovebirds like Guru and Riya, we always respected our space. His senior, Jignesh, had a crush on me and proposed once, but I politely denied it. Compared to Sam, Jignesh was equally handsome, same build, and almost like his twin brother. He remained popular in our college circle for his football skills, even after he passed out of college last year. Sam took over his legacy as the team captain.
Continuing with Part 2, edited only for grammar and punctuation. No stylistic rewrites, tone changes, or content alterations have been made.
My mind questioned me: Should I try something with Sam in this month’s space? How should I initiate? I just had a crush on him, not the love of getting married to him. Maybe I would explore side B of mine with him more. I also secretly watched porn and stuff with Leena. She knew a bit about me. Should I ask for some ideas to get closer to Sam? Maybe seduce him to feel my first kiss, to feel the first touch of a boy on me? I was tired of being a virgin, and I didn’t want to go to the UK as a virgin who knew nothing about sex, except porn literacy.
While I was lost in thoughts, the cab driver asked me, “Ma’am, what time is your airplane?” The cab was stuck in traffic then.
I looked at my watch. “We have 45 minutes to check in,” I shared with a worried look.
“Don’t worry, madam, I will take you there in time,” he assured me, glancing at my cleavage.
Then I realized that I was giving him a cleavage show all the while. My first two buttons of the shirt were undone; maybe when I had jumped in ecstasy, it could have happened. But the feeling of someone watching me gave me a thrill. I decided to remain unnoticed and leaned forward to him to show my air ticket to confirm the timing and the terminal to which I should go. I revealed more cleavage to him, and he was thrilled, like me. I turned toward him slightly, leaning down, pretending to see the route on my mobile. He enjoyed his perks, catching glimpses of my boobs, to drive faster with swift turns and cuts. The cab reached the airport just in time. As it was a prepaid cab, I rushed to check in.
Only during the security check did I realize that I had left my bag in the cab! Thank God, I kept my wallet and mobile in my jacket pocket. The bag had nothing but my used clothes and innerwear. Let the cab driver have it; I could not miss the flight for the sake of my used bra and panty. I noticed so many eyes catching glimpses of my unbuttoned shirt. Though I loved it inside, I needed to act modestly. So I buttoned up my blazer and boarded the flight.
In less than an hour, the flight entered Mumbai airport. The weather was very gloomy. I called Sam, and he guided me to his location.
“Bike? Where is the car, Sam?”
“One of the wheels got punctured, and I didn’t have time to switch the spare,” he apologized and continued, “I texted you, but you were offline on the flight.”
I checked my phone, and he was right. I looked at the weather; it might rain anytime soon. But something sparked in my mind. I wanted to utilize the rain to take things further with Sam.
“Okay, Sam. Give me the key. I’m riding,” I grabbed the bike key.
“But ... we need to go faster. Your home is nearly 20 kilometers from here,” he sounded doubtful about my riding skills. He handed me the helmet.
“Keep it, buddy, I want to feel this weather,” I said and started the bike.
“Hold tight, let’s see who is slower,” I revved the accelerator. My blazer went open with the wind. I felt a tingle in my white shirt as chill air blew through the cleavage.
As I increased the speed, he switched his hold from the back bar to my waist. I could feel his hesitation and the warmth of his hands. But I loved it. I accelerated further. It started drizzling, and I did not stop. My shirt was wet within a few minutes, and droplets slowly drenched my purple bra. Then the water started flowing over my waist and filling my navel like a pool. His fingers touched my waist directly now. With the lubrication of the water, his fingers slowly slid further and grabbed my entire stomach. I pretended to focus on my riding to reach home faster. He must be feeling my stomach. I felt heat in my navel as his fingers were exploring it slowly.
Out of nowhere, a policeman asked us to pull over, and I applied the brake suddenly. His hands slipped further and touched my bra-clad boobs.
The touch was unexpected; it sent a shiver through my spine. What a feeling! Someone touched my boobs for the first time. Though it lasted only a few seconds, I felt it deeply. My nipples went hard and poked the bra. They were visible in the yellow streetlight.
“Sorry, Maya,” he apologized and withdrew his hands in a jiffy.
Before I could react, the policeman started questioning us about the helmet. Sam was trying his best to convince him, but it was no use.
“Sir, the drizzle was blocking my view, forming mist inside the helmet, so I did not use it,” I went closer to the policeman and explained.
He spotted my wet bra-clad boobs, and my white shirt had shown enough skin of my bosom. Maybe he wanted to see me for some more time, it seemed, because he then blabbered something.
“Sir, he is my brother, and we must go home soon, else our dad will punish us. Please let us go, sir,” I made some jiggling movements. My wet boobs bounced a bit, and the request could not be denied anymore. He allowed us to go.
“You ride, brother,” I pulled Sam’s leg.
As we moved a little far from the policeman, Sam asked, “Am I your brother? Sorry for touching your...”
“I will not hug a brother like this! Go faster,” I crushed my wet boobs on his back on the pretext of holding on to him tightly.
We crossed halfway, and the rain picked up pace. Downpour!
“I can’t ride!” Sam pulled over to a bus stop shade. I held his hand tightly and stood closer.
We were drenched, and the shade hardly provided us any cover from the rain. My boobs’ shapes were clearly visible. He could easily locate the nipples. There was no sag, and the white shirt revealed all the skin, except the parts covered by the purple bra.
Continuing with Part 3, with only grammar and punctuation corrections applied. No rewriting, softening, or stylistic changes have been made. Content is preserved exactly, with only mechanical fixes.
“You are a different person now, Maya!” Sam said while he pretended to avoid looking at my breasts.
“Yes, I am free now!” I told him and stepped out to enjoy the rain. There was no one around us. I removed my blazer and handed it to him. “Come on, join me, Sam!”
He hesitated; however, the rain slowed down. He handed me the blazer and asked me to wear it. I could see my cleavage clearly.
Put up the shocked look, Maya! — my mind insisted.
I wore the blazer and asked him, “How far is your home?”
“It’s just three minutes from here,” he replied.
“Shall we go there, stop over, and start once the rain gives up?”
“Sure, if you are okay with it.”
We reached his apartment. We entered the lift, and he pressed 8. His eyes were trying to get a glimpse of my wet body, especially the cleavage. But I had covered it with my jacket.
Oh! Poor Sam ... wait for it! — my inner voice felt pity for him. It was the first time I saw Sam paying attention to my body.
His house was locked.
“Jignesh must be out at the pub.” He searched for the spare key in the shoe rack. He opened the door and welcomed me in.
“Oops ... it’s damn cold and heavy.” I removed my jacket and twisted it to drain the water from it on the thick doormat. My shirt’s top two buttons, still ajar, revealed ample cleavage. My eyes met Sam looking at my wet boobs, painted purple with my bra.
“Now you are so different, Sam,” I smiled at him. “What are you looking at?” I teased him, pulling my shirt away from body contact.
“Sorry, Maya, I can’t help it, you look gorgeous,” he said, avoiding any eye contact with me.
“Oh, it took four years for you to admit this?” I nudged his shoulder and asked, “But I can’t stand like this for you to adore. Do you have any clothes that fit me?”
“I have a shirt and 3/4-length shorts. That is the smallest size I have,” he said and rushed to his room and handed me a black shirt and cotton pants.
He showed me the way to his room and asked me to get dressed, and he moved to the adjacent room. It could be Jignesh’s room. I locked the door and looked at his room. His cologne perfume filled my nostrils. It drove me wild and gave me naughty thoughts, like in television ads where women get seduced by perfume. I removed my pants first, which were heavily drenched in the rain. I saw myself in the nearly 6-foot full-size mirror.
I was sexier than the girl I saw in Bengaluru. Standing in a wet white shirt and purple panties, water drops slowly trailed from my panties along my thighs. I removed my shirt by unbuttoning it slowly, enjoying my own tease to stand in just a bra and panties in a new place. I felt like undressing in front of Sam, as the room was full of his scent. Then I unclasped the bra hooks one by one, which were in the front. I didn’t like the hassle of wearing hooks at the back, so all my bras were like this — either sports type without hooks or this type. My boobs were free now, with goosebumps and the wetness of rain.
I touched them, caressed them slowly to feel the softness of my breasts. The areolas were bigger than normal for me; they covered a good amount of the center radius from my nipples. They looked like a brown crown on a dome together. Firm!
Then I peeled the bra off my shoulders and pulled my panties down to stand stark nude in my friend’s room. I would not have got the courage if I had not got the job. It gave me a sort of courage.
I like it hairy down there. And my details were well hidden in my dense pubic hair; the mushy flesh of my pussy was unexplored by anyone except me. I occasionally fingered myself on the days I had watched porn. Sometimes, when Leena was not at home, I had even tried to pleasure myself with small carrots and brinjals. All those visuals crossed my mind as I stood stark naked, adoring my undressed body in a full-view mirror.
I washed my inners and clothes in fresh water and showered quickly. As I dried my body, a naughty thought crossed my mind. The balcony of the room was viewable from the room next. Sam might be doing the same thing as me, changing his clothes.