Erotic Stories for Punjabi Widows

‘Channel Fifty-Six at 1 a.m.’

Surreptitious glances shot about the room. Nikki didn’t have to ask what was on Channel Fifty-Six at 1 a.m. because their knowing smiles told her everything. ‘There was a movie on the other night about a couple. The man came home wearing one of those fluorescent vests – he was a miner or something, and then he said something in English and his wife led him into the bathroom. They did exactly what you described.’

‘It wasn’t in English,’ Arvinder said. ‘It didn’t sound like English; it was French or Spanish I think.’

‘The German ones are the best,’ piped up Bibi. ‘Their men are so sturdy looking.’

‘Your secret’s out, Preetam,’ Tanveer said with a grin.

Preetam squirmed. ‘There’s nothing to watch on the Indian channel late at night,’ she protested.

‘Maybe we should move on,’ Nikki said.

‘I’ve got the rest of my story now,’ Tanveer offered.

‘The one about Rita and Meera?’ Arvinder asked. Tanveer nodded.

‘Yes, please, tell us what happens,’ Bibi said.





Rita led Meera to her bed. The sheets were lightly tousled from the night before but Meera refrained from telling off the young girl for not making the bed. She felt a strong and urgent pulsing in her loins as she lay down on the bed and closed her eyes on Rita’s instructions. Rita’s breath was hot on Meera’s skin. They kissed passionately, playfully flicking their tongues. After unbuttoning Meera’s top, Rita gave her nipples gentle bites through the fabric of her bra. Meera gritted her teeth. The sensation of this young woman teasing her flesh made her want to scream with ecstasy but she knew there was even more pleasure to come. Rita stroked the peach between Meera’s legs. There was such heat radiating from Meera that Rita knew she was ready. She peeled off Meera’s clothes and put her fingers into her wet, swollen centre. Meera whimpered with delight. Her whimpers became deep moans in rhythm with Rita’s steady movements. Rita’s fingers rotated gently in a circle, preparing Meera for what would come soon. The clay stick lay on the bedside table. Meera glanced at it occasionally. Rita shook her head. ‘Not yet,’ she said firmly. She knew it was cruel to withhold pleasure from this woman who so badly wanted it but Rita wanted to prolong this experience. She had great power over Meera now. She could get her to do anything she wanted. How Rita managed this moment could determine the course of the rest of her life in this home.

Rita pulled away from Meera and took out a bottle of coconut oil from her dresser drawer. She and her husband had used coconut oil together on their first night, and sometimes, to surprise him, she rubbed it all over her body and then waited in bed for him, naked and glistening. She made a show of it now, stripping for Meera, who watched her every move. Then she tipped the bottle of oil into her hands and rubbed them slowly over her breasts and stomach and thighs. She was aware of how sexy she looked – a goddess with glowing bronze flesh. She returned to bed and reached for the clay stick, which she rolled over her body, from her neck to her stomach, till it was slick with oil. Meera enjoyed the show. She turned on her side and watched Rita, mesmerized. ‘Show me what you do with it,’ Meera said.

Rita lay down and spread her legs and slipped the stick into her silken folds. She guided it in and out of herself, bucking and sighing the way she did with her husband. With one hand, she clutched at her naked breast, twisting her hard nipples between her fingers. She met Meera’s gaze. ‘You get it now?’ she asked.

She drew the stick out and sat up. ‘It’s your turn,’ she said. ‘Lie down.’

Meera shook her head. ‘You keep going,’ she said.

‘Oh don’t tell me you want to stop now.’

‘I don’t want to stop.’

‘Then what is it?’

Meera cast a shy gaze over Rita’s naked body. ‘All this time I spent envying you, I was actually lusting after you. I want to keep admiring your body.’

It was Rita’s turn to go shy. ‘I had no idea,’ she said. ‘I thought you resented me.’

Meera pressed her lips to Rita’s. They shared a long and passionate kiss during which Meera reached down and wrapped her hands around the stick. She slipped it into Rita and began to pump it slowly. ‘What do you want me to do?’ Meera asked.

Rita’s eyes flew open in surprise. She never thought she would be in the position to ask anything of Meera, yet here the older woman was, ready to serve her. ‘Go faster,’ Rita commanded. Meera obeyed. ‘Faster,’ Rita said. She groaned and tipped her head back. Meera’s feverish movements were making her thighs quiver. She raised them so that the stick could be driven in deeper. ‘Ah! Ah!’ she cried. Beneath her, the sheet was soaked in her sweat and her juices. She pulled Meera’s face to hers. ‘I’m very close,’ she whispered.

Meera pulled out the stick. She lay on top of Rita and rubbed against her. The feeling of Meera’s hot flesh against Rita’s made her excitement mount quickly. She wrapped her legs around Meera’s waist. Each grinding movement made her gasp and moan. Both women clutched each other, trying to prolong these sensations. Their climax arrived quickly. Meera shuddered and dropped her head to Rita’s collarbone. Rita stroked her hair. In this short moment, both women were closer than they had ever been but they were also lost in their own thoughts. Meera was wondering if she would ever be able to go to bed with her husband after experiencing Rita. Rita was thinking about the order of Meera’s life that she had just disassembled. From now on, I will decide where everything belongs, Rita thought.





‘My, my,’ Arvinder said. ‘A chilling twist.’

‘Very good,’ Bibi remarked.

‘Thank you,’ Tanveer said.

‘Don’t you think it’s a good story, Preetam?’ Arvinder asked. ‘It’s very original.’

Preetam, who was feigning a sudden preoccupation with her nails, muttered a quiet ‘Yes.’

After the women were dismissed, Sheena hung back at Nikki’s desk. ‘I have some news about Manjeet.’

Nikki had noticed that Manjeet was absent for the second class in a row. ‘Is she all right?’

‘She’s left Southall.’

‘What? Why?’

‘Her husband had another stroke last week and that nurse girlfriend of his decided she wasn’t cut out to take care of him any more. She left him. When Manjeet heard that he was sick and alone, she packed up everything and went up north to take care of him.’

‘She’s gone permanently?’ Nikki asked.

Balli Kaur Jaswal's books