Echoes of Anu – Part 6 (Secret Schemes)

Hello, everyone; this is Anu Shain, 30 years old (34D and 5’6 tall) from a Marathi and Telugu background, living abroad for a decade now. I want to share another story with ISS readers.

This story happened after my previous story, Echoes of Anu – Part 5 (Healing Horizons); this story happened in the year 2012. While broke and hiding it from Dad, I impersonated Geet to manipulate Ramesh, our shady new accountant. I played the game.

Continued..!

I woke to a faint clink, My head throbbed. I blinked against the daylight slicing through the curtains. Geet didn’t say a word. She moved like a shadow, silent, practised. A hot cup of coffee appeared by my bedside. I stared at the ceiling.

She picked up my clothes, folded the blanket at my feet, even shifted my night robe, covered my ass cheeks without so much as a sigh. She glanced at me once before slipping out.

Geet: “Coffee’s hot, didi..; I’m going to meet my grandfather”, smiled. Then gone.

The coffee was stronger than usual, Geet knew I needed it. I took one sip, then bolted to the toilet. I came back out, wiping steam from my forehead. My night dress clung to me, I grabbed my notebook and scrawled a few half-legible thoughts.

I buried myself in the assignment, and I barely understood. My fingers danced across the keyboard, half from caffeine, half from nerves.

Then—pop. An ad blinked on the side: “Lonely tonight? Watch me now jerking.” I frowned.

Me: “Ugh, seriously?” I clicked out. Another one popped, this time a girl in red biting her lip. I opened a new tab.

I leaned in, eyes scanning the screen. I tapped the keys harder; a porn site popped up with a threesome video playing.

My breath felt warm and heavy against the cold glass of my coffee cup. My fingers rushed through my panty, tugging lightly. I closed my eyes.

Me: “Fuck me, dammit.” But all I saw behind my eyelids was Vishnu’s smile from the bus. That lazy, knowing grin. He had nothing to do with this porn, yet it made my heart pound like I’d just let Vishnu fuck me.

The cursor blinked on the screen, waiting for me to finish the video. My phone buzzed.

“Hey Anu, super urgent. Can you send me 3000rs? Need to cover hostel mess. Promise I’ll return.”

I sighed and clicked into my internet banking out of habit. The screen loaded. Then I froze, only 4,000Rs balance. What? That couldn’t be right. I checked again. No mistake. My heart thudded.

Me: “Shit…” I opened a tab to check flight prices back to university, way out of reach. My fingers hovered over the keyboard. I dialled Priya instead.

Me: “Hey… remember the 5k I lent you last month?”

Priya: “Oh ya ya! But babe, I had to get those flats from Lifestyle, and we did that lingerie shopping too, remember? Gosh, I’m so broke!” I laughed weakly.

Me: “No worries. Just checking.” I hung up before she asked why. My pride clenched. I couldn’t look broke, not to Priya.

I sat cross-legged, rubbing my forehead, mind racing. I needed a fix. Fast. But how? The phone rang in the hallway, our old landline, which no one ever uses unless it’s Dad. I picked up.

Me: “Hello?”

Dad: “Anu? Where’s Geet? I’ve been trying her mobile.”

Me: “She left early and said she’s visiting her grandparents.”

Dad: “Hmm. Listen, I need you to do something. There are a few files in my office. Hand them over to Ramesh. You may not know him, but he is our new accountant. He’ll come by in an hour.”

Me: “Sure, I’ll take care of it, Papa..”

Dad: “Thanks, beta.” I stood there holding the receiver, the dial tone humming. Ramesh? I hadn’t seen him before.

I rushed back to my room, the morning’s mess still everywhere: notes, coffee rings, and my half-open laptop. Then, the sound of gravel crunching under tyres from our driveway.

Me: “Shit.” I peeked through the window. Silver car. I scrambled to change, flinging open the wardrobe. Nothing clean. I pulled my old kurta from the laundry basket and sniffed. It’s not great, but not deadly. The doorbell rang.

Me: “Coming!” I stumbled through the hall, tugging the kurta over my head, hair barely tied. I opened the door.

Ramesh stepped in, tall, late 30s, carrying that tired arrogance some men wore like cologne. He didn’t greet me. I tried to smile.

Me: “This way, ji” The office is a bit dusty; He followed without a word, his shoes thudding on the tile floor.

We entered Dad’s office. Papers, cabin, etc., that practice of old files. I opened a drawer, flipping through folders.

Ramesh: “You maids are all stupid. No system. No sense.” I blinked.

Me: “Excuse me?” He barely looked at me.

Ramesh: “Your sahib said Geet would arrange the files. So do your job.”

It hit me. He thought I was Geet. And I didn’t correct him.

Me: “Interesting…” I held back a laugh. Geet, huh? Let’s play. Ramesh grumbled as he rummaged through the wrong cabinet.

Ramesh: “This is what happens when servants think they’re queens.” Instead of snapping, I walked over to the bar counter, still smiling.

Me: “Sahab, maybe a small drink will ease your mood?” I poured two fingers of whisky, slow and smooth, like I’d seen Papa do. I turned, offered the glass politely.

Ramesh hesitated, then took it. His lips curled into a rare smile.

Ramesh: “Hmph. At least you know how to serve.” He took a sip, eyes scanning my body, quietly. His gaze lingered on my boobs, then my kurta. Even wrinkled and stained, I could tell he noticed my cleavage.

Me: “Sahab, I try my best to keep this place… peaceful.” He chuckled, swirling the whisky in his glass.

Ramesh: “Your sahib’s lucky. You’ve got manners, and he told me about your talent too” I nodded, stepping closer to the files.

Me: “Maybe sahib should pay me more for all this effort, no?” Ramesh grinned, not catching the double meaning. But I had planted the seed.

Ramesh leaned back in the leather chair, legs crossed, sipping like he owned the place.

Ramesh: “You know, I manage every rupee in this house. Investments, expenses, even the temple donations go through me.” I feigned awe, placing a dusty file on the desk.

Anu: “Wah… such responsibility, sahab.” He smirked, puffing his chest.

Ramesh: “Your sahib trusts me blindly. If I want, I can even increase your salary. No one would notice.” I tilted my head, voice low.

Anu: “You mean… You could change it just like that?” Biting my lips, looking straight into his eyes.

Ramesh: “Of course. I handle the books. Who checks maid salaries anyway?” I smiled wider. The whisky, the bragging it was all falling into place.

I bent over a drawer, pretending to look for files. But the truth is letting Ramesh to enjoy more of my boobs hanging mid air.

Anu: “Sahab, you said you handle everything… even Madam Anu’s monthly allowance?” I look straight into his eyes while wetting my lips. Ramesh chuckled, swirling the last of his drink.

Ramesh: “Of course. If I want, her balance can rise overnight. No one questions numbers when the money flows.” I turned, slow and curious.

Me: “Must be nice… being in charge.” He eyed me now, more amused than cautiously watching my cleavage.

Ramesh: “Tell me one thing, this madam Anu… is it true she’s spoiled? Always spending, never working?” I shrugged, keeping my smile.

Me: “Spoiled? Maybe. But she’s smart too… smarter than people think.” He laughed.

Ramesh leaned forward, his hand on my shoulder, eyes tracing me, too long, too casually.

Ramesh: “Tell me more about your madam..Anu. What does she like? Designer bags, makeup? And… is she seeing someone? A boyfriend, maybe?”

I tensed, fingers stiff over a folder. The smile stayed, but it was paper-thin now.

Me: “Madam? Hmm… she likes quiet things. Books, long baths. Stays in her room a lot.” I shifted closer to him, back half-turned.

Me: “And boyfriend…? Maybe. She doesn’t tell us much. Rich girls keep secrets, na?” He chuckled, dark and low.

Ramesh stayed right there, fingers tapping on my shoulder sleeve like he owned me.

Ramesh: “You know… madam Anu’s credit card tells her story better than she can. Shopping, gifts, fancy cafes… looks like she’s in love with half the boys in her university.”

Me: “Really, sahab? You read all that… just from numbers?” I froze. The air around me felt heavier.

Ramesh: “I manage the accounts, remember? I see everything. Some boys are lucky to fuck her, huh?”

I stayed quiet, eyes on a file I wasn’t really reading.
He had access. Too much access. But if he thinks he owns me… maybe it was time to start taking advantage of this situation.

Ramesh smirked, setting the glass down with a soft clink.

Ramesh: “That Geet… your hands are famous, you know? Your sahib once told me, ‘Geet’s fingers on my dick can press the worries out of a man’s soul.’ He swears by your blowjob.”

Me: “He says that?” I tilted my head, interest flickering in my eyes.

Ramesh: “Oh yes. Even offered to send you to one of his business partners once. Said your skills were… special not even a call girl can satisfy a man like you did.”

Me: “I only use those skills when someone really deserves it.” A slow grin crept across my face. I stepped closer, file in hand.

Ramesh patted his thigh, his voice dropping just a notch.

Ramesh: “Come, sit. You’ve been standing too long. I want to hear more about Madam Anu… her habits, her moods. She fascinates me.”

Anu: “You’re quite curious about her, sahab.” I walked slowly, heart thudding, not from nerves, but calculation. Ramesh chuckled.

Ramesh: “Can you blame me? She’s beautiful, rich, probably lonely here no man to fuck her. Girls like her… just need the right attention. Someone smart enough to guide her.”

I sat barely on his thigh, keeping a polite distance, nodding thoughtfully. He wanted to trap me. Seduce me. Fuck me.
Make me fall for him.

Ramesh leaned in slightly, touch my boob over my kurta top. He was squeezing it in his palm, eyes still on me. I can feel his dick getting harder.

Ramesh: “So… what kind of boys does madam Anu like to fuck around? Dominant types? Or Slave ones who lick her toe to mouth at a stretch”

I smiled faintlylyly, pretending to think while watching him dig his thumb into kurtha, my nipples erected when his fingers touched my bearskin.

Anu: “She likes smart boys. Confident. The kind who make her love, but not controlled.” My hands started to shiver, sweet drops rolling from my head to my cleavage.

Ramesh: “Interesting… and does she fuck a lot?” He completely cover my boob with his hand and squeeze hard.

Anu: “Not really. She’s picky. Spends more time in front of laptop than in lounges.” I couldn’t control myself, I started applying pressure on his dick.

Ramesh: “Sounds like she needs someone to pull her out of that shell. Show her how a village grown man fuck her.” He pull my boob entirely from my kurta top.

Ramesh: “You’ve seen her up close, na? Describe her. What does madam Anu really look like? How big her boobs? Does she shave? I’ve only heard whispers about what he done in her 12 grade…” Ramesh licked my nipple, then leaned back, eyes narrowing with interest. His hands are rough.

Anu: “She’s tall, skin like morning coffee, Long black hair that falls like silk on her ass cheeks. Nipples? Brown, soft when she’s quiet, sharp when she’s in mood.” I tilted my head, brushing hair from my face, voice turning soft, almost horny.

Ramesh: “Sounds like a Bitch.” He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

Anu: “And she walks like she owns every room she enters. But she’s still… lost sometimes. That makes her beautiful too, na?” He stared, momentarily quiet.

I put more pressure on his dick over his pant slowly, placing all fingers on his rock hard dick, firm, steady, like I’d seen Geet do to my dad. His dick flinched at first, then relaxed under my fingers like melting wax.

He took another boob out, eyes fluttering half-closed, chewing my both boobs like he’d found heaven in pulp and pressure.

My thumbs worked deep into the muscle, just enough to draw out the groans he couldn’t hide. His breath grew heavier, boobs forgotten in his hand, now closing his eyes like he is loosing his strength.

I didn’t speak. Neither did he.

The room filled only with the soft press of fingers on his dick and the sticky sound of my boobs running down his wrist.

My boobs popped from his hands with a soft thwack, I can feel wetness under his pants, leaving behind a wet stain. I couldn’t help it, I laughed, a hand to my mouth.

Anu: “Sahab, your cum defeated you.” He chuckled, sheepish for the first time. I grabbed a cloth from the side table, leaning forward to dab the mess off his pants. He let me, watching closely, chest rising a little faster.

Then his phone rang. He wiped his hands hastily and tapped it, speaker mode.

Dad: “Ramesh ji did you got the files?” Before Ramesh could reach for the phone, I straightened up and spoke, loud and cheerful.

Me: “Dad! Ramesh ji found those files, I’m just helping him sort them!”A pause.

Dad’s voice over speaker: “Good girl, beta. I knew I could trust you. Ramesh, make sure she’s not doing all the work.” The line clicked. Call ended.

Ramesh blinked at me like I’d just changed the weather in the room. I leaned forward, lowering my voice, lips curling into a soft smile.

Anu: “Now… sahab… if you don’t want this little kinky session and boob party to reach my father… maybe you’ll find a way to increase madam Anu’s monthly allowances.” I winked.

Ramesh’s jaw clenched. His eyes burned with rage, like he wanted to raise his hand, claim back control. But he didn’t move. He couldn’t.

His gaze dropped to the files I held out, my expression calm… patient… dangerous. He snatched them from my hands, the veins in his neck twitching, and without a word, stormed toward the door.

The front door slammed. A car engine roared. I stood still for a second, then exhaled, a wicked little grin tugging at my lips.

I turned to head upstairs, my heartbeat finally slowing. But then, I paused. My palm felt sticky. I looked down.

Me: “Uff…” I roll my fingers under my panty, it all wet. I stared at it for a second, lips parting in surprise.

A faint blush crept up my cheeks before I could stop it. I wiped my hand quickly on the edge of my kurtha and shook my head, smiling to myself.

To be continued…