My uncle married a city girl. He, himself, had become a city boy because he worked there and that’s where he met a friend of her family who then introduced the two of them before the families got involved and arranged for the marriage.

My aunt is a delicate little flower that was picked from the tree of Lahore and thrown in the fields of Toba Tek Singh. Fortunately for her, my uncle worked in Lahore and lived with her family, so she didn’t have to spend that much time in Toba area. Unfortunately for her, she still had to visit my uncle’s family at least twice a year at small and big Eids.

Each time of her visit, she would come with my uncle but stay behind after he would return to Lahore for his work reasons. Her stay sometimes was only for a week and sometimes she would stay two to three weeks, depending on her mood. In the early part of her marriage, she could only stay for a short time but as she got used to the family, she could tolerate the village for longer periods of time.

Her visits were a hardship for me because I became her personal servant during that time. She would make me do so many things for her that I couldn’t concentrate on the farm or do what I am normally supposed to do.

“Heat me some water Naeem, I want to take a bath.”

“Fetch me some fruit from the fields Naeem, I feel for some watermelons.”

“Peel the oranges for me Naeem, and bring me some salt.”

“Rub my shoulders Naeem, I am feeling a bit tense.”

“Massage my head Naeem, I feel like a headache coming.”

“Iron my clothes Naeem, I feel like dressing properly today.”

“Make some tea for me Naeem, I feel for some jalebis.”

“Get me some jalebis Naeem, to go with the tea.”

To make my position really subservient, “Rub some oil on my feet Naeem, they are burning.” Or, “Naeem, see if you can cut my toe nails, they seem to be very long.”

She would even call me from her room during the night and say, “Bring me some water Naeem, I feel thirsty.”

I dreaded her visits but I was living with my maternal grandmother and my circumstances didn’t allow me to get out of servicing her needs. My younger uncle would normally go to visit his own wife during her trips and would leave me and my younger aunt, his sister, to tend to her. My grandmother wanted peace, so she would scold the two of us for complaining.

I really didn’t mind doing these small things because in a way they were just routine work for me. It was rubbing oil on her feet that I didn’t like. Usually she would sit on a cot and I would sit on the ground in front of her. She would then place her foot on my knee and I would rub it the way she liked it until she felt she had enough. Then she would put the other foot on my other knee and I would repeat my rubbing on that one until she was satisfied, or the heat had completely dissipated.

Unfortunately she asked me to do that a lot, sometimes even twice a day. It wasn’t a big deal when I was young, but at the age of nineteen, it didn’t sit well with me to be doing such demeaning task. I mean there were enough worker ladies around town that one of them would be happy to do it all day for a few Rupees. But, she didn’t want dirty hands on her feet. She wanted me to do it, not even my young aunt. It’s because I had strong hands and I could massage the pain out of her heels.

One day she was still in bed when she called me to massage her feet. She didn’t want oil on them, only wanted me to massage them. I couldn’t figure out why she needed her feet massaged because she had been sleeping all night. It wasn’t like she had been walking around. But, I had to oblige.

She didn’t want to sit up, so I put a pillow under her ankles and asked her to extend her feet over the cot so I could work on them while kneeling next to them. I actually liked this position because it was less subservient and my legs didn’t get tired like other times.

She closed her eyes as I worked on her heels, gently but firmly pressing them with my thumbs. Then I rubbed the sole of her feet with my thumbs while my fingers caressed and massaged the top of her feet. I worked my way up to the balls of her feet and then took each of her toes one at a time and rubbed, massaged, and caressed them. She normally would stop me after her toes were done but that day she didn’t say anything and I kept going on her foot. I started again from the heel and worked all the way to her toes. Again, she said nothing.

I had a problem. I figured she was probably asleep, so I didn’t know when to stop. I didn’t want to stop in case she wasn’t asleep because then she would get angry at me for stopping before she didn’t tell me to stop. I was getting tired of rubbing her feet, so I decided to ease up the pressure and only run my fingers and thumbs on her skin.

She had a delicate skin, white and soft. I ran my thumbs gently across the bottom of her feet and softly caressed them for a while. Then I started caressing her toes until I got tired of that and I started to caress the area in between her toes with my index finger.

“That feels nice,” She cooed.

That was the first time ever that she told me that what I was doing felt nice. I actually felt flattered and even became a little energized. I started to caress the area between her toes with more enthusiasm and even stood up to work on the top of her feet.

Once I was up, I worked my way to her ankles and I don’t know why, but I decided to work around the ankles. Mind you, I was only caressing her, not massaging her, so the strokes didn’t tax my muscles. As a matter of fact, this gentle skin to skin contact kind of felt nice to my hands as well. I stopped just above her ankles because I didn’t want to put my hands on her calves. Besides, I knew she was not asleep so I was hoping for her to say that was enough. I even paused to indicate that I was done.

She opened her eyes and said, “Why don’t you bring some oil to put on my feet?”

I felt upset because that meant I had to start all over and spend a lot of time again on her feet. While I was looking for oil, I asked my young aunt to help me. She just laughed at my dilemma.

I came back with oil, knelt at her feet and started on her heels, working my way up. I didn’t rub her feet or press them. I simply applied oil to them and then caressed it on her skin. I liked the feel of oil on my hands and her feet and the slipperiness of our skins. Once it became enjoyable, I then worked on them to make myself feel good. She responded to my touches with her coos and even moans when my fingers worked between her toes. I don’t know why but I liked when she responded to my touch like that.

When I made it to her ankles, she asked me to remove the pillow. She then slid a little down on the cot, placed her feet at the edge while bending her knees and she pulled her shalwar up to expose the calves. I guessed what she wanted me to do, so I proceeded to rub oil on her calves. Her calves felt even better than her feet, so I worked gently, carefully, and enthusiastically on them. She cooed a few more times and told me that I was doing a wonderful job. I felt good each time I heard that.

Finally, after a good couple of hours, she asked me to heat some water for her, she wanted to bathe. Also she asked me to bring some tea and biscuits for her; she wanted to eat her breakfast in bed.

Unfortunately, I had done such a good job that she called me back for a repeat performance the following morning. This time she didn’t ask me to work on her feet, only on her calves. She placed her feet at the foot of the cot like the day before and exposed her calves all the way to her knees. Shalwar was still hiding her knees but her calves were completely bare for me to work on them.

I liked the feel of her legs. They were a bit cold but warmed up under my contact. They were soft and pleasant and they looked good. I felt all around and caressed gently all the area that was visible to my eyes. When I reached the top, I even put my hand under the bottom of her shalwar and caressed some of the area that was not visible to me.

She took the hint and pulled her shalwar further to expose her knees. I worked above, below and around her knees until she finally told me to stop and prepare her bath.

This became a routine for each morning until she went back to Lahore. She would ask me to rub oil on her calves every morning. When I was finished, she would ask me to prepare her bath. There was one change that took place in me; I actually started to like doing it. Each session left me feeling warm and fuzzy and I always ended up with a good erection. For once, I was actually disappointed when she left, and hoped for her next visit to be sooner than usual.

As coincidence would have it, her next visit was sooner than expected. She came with my uncle and while he was here she didn’t ask for anything. Once he left, the next morning she called me to her room and asked for me to take her tiredness out of her legs. I was actually looking forward to working on her calves, so I beamed with pleasure that she must have noticed.

It was the same as last time. I worked all the way up to her knees. This time I worked on her feet as well. She tried to pull her shalwar a little higher than her knees but the opening was small and it only went up about a third on her thighs. I worked on the new area that she had exposed.

She pointed to the middle of her thighs and said that she had knots in that area. She asked me if I could rub that part. I put my hands on her thigh area that was still under the material of her shalwar and started to feel around for the knot and to rub it out. I worked with long strokes and I worked on both thighs at the same time, one under each hand. I didn’t like this part as much because the material made it difficult to slide my hands smoothly. Instead I found myself battling with the folds of her shalwar, which by now were bunched around her thighs because she had pulled it up to expose her knees. I pulled her shalwar down to cover her legs so that the amount of material on her thighs would be less, but that still didn’t improve anything for me. I rubbed around the front of her thighs and stopped once I thought I had taken the knots out.

I was working on her thighs while standing on the side of the bed. This made it difficult to do what I would call a good job and it tired my sides out more easily than working on her calves had. I have to admit that having my hands on her thighs gave me a thrill that I never had before and my erection was ready to pop through the front of my chadar. I actually had to hold it between my legs to keep it from showing itself to her.

She did something that I found to be very erotic. She opened her legs and lifted the front flap of her kamees to expose her legs all the way up to her hips. I didn’t see the top of her shalwar, but her nala was hanging on that special part of her body. Also the shalwar had bunched around between her legs to highlight the part that her nephew is never to even think about.

She must have noticed as the colour drained from my face but she didn’t say anything. She rubbed her hand on the inside of her thighs and said, “Can you massage this area as well?”

I started working on the inside of her thighs and reached as high as I could without violating any rules of where I could and could not touch her. I knew that there was a limit which I could not cross and I stopped well short of that limit. After working on the inside and outside of her thighs, I asked her if she would like me to work on the back of her thighs.

“Oh, yes, thank you.” She said. “That would be nice.”

With that she turned over and lifted the back flap of her kamees up and exposed part of her ass. Even though it was still covered by her shalwar, colour drained from my face once again, which thankfully she couldn’t see.

I worked on the back of her thighs and I was able to go higher than the front because the limit on the back was different than the front.

When I was done, she asked me to prepare her bath. She said, “You are wonderful, Naeem. I feel so refreshed.”

I just smiled at her to show that I appreciated her thanks and went to do the bath for her.

Next day, we did the same. I worked on her thighs quite thoroughly. I caressed, massaged, rubbed, and kneaded as much area as I was allowed to touch. She moaned occasionally during my work and when I was done and after asking me to prepare her bath, she said, “Naeem, you have magical hands.”

I didn’t quite know what she meant, but I knew that I had to say something in return. A smile just wouldn’t have done it. I replied, “I could have done better if it wasn’t for the material in the way.” I was just trying to be humble.

Next morning, I found her with a sheet covering the bottom half of her body. She asked me, “Can you work under this sheet?”

I was a little confused. I said, “I ... guess so.”

She didn’t bend her legs as she had in the past to let me work on her calves. When she saw me waiting for her to assume the position, she said, “Oh, that. Don’t worry about my feet and my calves. I just want you to take the knots out of my thighs.”

When I put my hands under the sheet, I realized the purpose of the sheet. She was not wearing any shalwar underneath. She saw the surprised look on my face and smiled. She said, “Are you okay with it?”

“Yes, I guess. I mean yes.” I stuttered. “But I don’t know where to touch because I really can’t see.”

She said, “Don’t worry about that. You are my nephew. You can touch wherever necessary.”

“But...” I didn’t know how to tell her that I was afraid to touch her in the wrong place by accident. I didn’t want her to think that I was purposefully trying to feel her up.

“It’s okay, Naeem. Don’t worry. I’ll stop you when you touch the wrong spot.”

Emboldened by her encouragement, I then proceeded to work on her thighs. I used oil this time because there was a direct contact between her legs and my hands. I didn’t really go anywhere that I wasn’t supposed to go, but I wished that I had just to see what she would do or say. I also wished I could see her legs. I had never seen than much of a woman before and there was my aunt letting me touch her but not letting me see her. Then she turned over under the sheet and I worked on the back of her thighs.

When I was done, she told me, “You were right. It is better without the cloth in between. I was right as well, you have magical hands.”

I tried to be humble again, “I wish I could see what I was doing. I am sure I would have done better.”

Next morning when I came for her daily massage, she was under the sheet as the previous day, but before I could begin, she asked me, “Naeem, you said you would do better if you could see what you were doing.”

“Yes, that I did.”

She pulled the sheet up and off of her legs slowly. She asked me, “Tell me when to stop.”

I couldn’t believe my eyes. She wanted to expose herself to me and it wasn’t her choice to decide how much of herself to expose. She was asking me to make that choice. I was feeling a bit dizzy and very warm as the chadar made its way up her knees and over her thighs. When she reached half way there, I couldn’t take it any longer and said, “That should do.”

She smiled and closed her eyes.

I proceed to work on her thighs and repeated my routine. I noticed that she was moaning a little more than usual. I worked on all the areas that were safe for me and then asked her to turn over. She turned under the sheet and I worked on the back covering all the safe areas. She moaned even more, specially when I worked on the inside of her thighs.