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It now reached the base of my petticoat resting squarely at my creamy white thigh.His index finger started drawing some weird circles on my thigh with some pressure, while his face was innocently looking at the fan.Two more days were to go before my husband returned. I asked him what he was doing, trying to sell stuff in the mad rain.He had gone on a business trip for a week and 5days had already passed. I picked up the fallen broom from the floor and was walking back to the place the door bell rang. He said that he lived 3 stations away and was done for the day.He shook the stool gently and quickly said ..."Madam, the base of the stool is not good.

His hand was soft but firm and was creeping up inch by inch.I walked quickly to the door hoping that it was my husband who returned early. " and held a plastic box with a picture of a woman in bra and panties. He was walking towards the station to catch his train and wanted to try his luck in our place, on the way.But it was a figure I could hardly make out standing at the door totally drenched. I told him to stay inside for some time as it was raining heavily.His hand reached my deep navel and he placed his index finger inside, and simultaneously he placed the palm of his 'killer' hand right on my pussy. He wasted no time in caressing my pussy lips and applied pressure with his middle finger in an attempt to insert.I parted my thighs wider involuntarily enjoying the tickling sensation as a result of his fingers playing on, in and around and all over my navel.Together, the sound of the rain and the beautiful old song playing in the radio reminded me of my husband.

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