I had to wait for a while

While waiting for the door to open, I took a moment to look around.

Mira Aunty’s house was easily the most impressive on the block much larger than ours, with a second floor that boasted a wide balcony and a driveway that could fit two cars comfortably. It wasn't hard to figure out why. Her husband, Sunil Uncle, was some high-flying investment banker.

I’d seen him around the colony a few times though he was mostly out on a meeting or tour. Honestly, the man was painfully average. Short, a bit paunchy, with a receding hairline and thick glasses that magnified his tired eyes. He was the kind of guy you’d forget the moment he walked out of a room.

It always baffled me how a guy like that had managed to score a woman like Mira Aunty. Probably being filthy rich helped.

My uncharitable musings were cut short by the sound of soft footsteps approaching from the other side of the heavy wooden door. A second later, the lock clicked, and the door swung open.

"Welcome, Arvind!"

Mira Aunty stood there, beaming at me, holding the door wide.

"Sorry to keep you waiting in the sun," she said, stepping back to let me in. "I was just in the bedroom changing. Come in, quick, its cooler inside."

I stepped across the threshold, the cool air of the air-conditioned hallway hitting me instantly.

"It's no problem, Aunty," I said, slipping my sandals off by the rack.

As I straightened up, my eyes couldn't help but do a quick sweep over her. The kurti was plain, but it didn't hide a thing. It clung to her body, making her curves impossible to miss. And it didn't help that her white slacks were stretched tight over her ass, hugging her round backside so perfectly that my heart started racing just looking at it.

I swallowed, forcing myself to look her in the eye, trying my best to not let my slowly growing boner be apparent. That was the dangerous thing about Mira Aunty; she always had way of dressing which oozed sexiness. There was a damn good reason she had starred in almost all of my puberty-fueled fantasies for years. She was my first real crush, the woman who single-handedly taught me that 'aunties' could be something way hotter than just boring old ladies who pinched your cheeks.

As we walked down the hallway toward the living room, I kept my eyes strictly on the back of her head, terrified that if I looked lower, I'd get caught staring at the way those tight slacks moved with every step.

I did let my eyes wander a bit. I’d been inside this house plenty of times before, usually tagging along with Ma to drop off some kheer or for a quick Diwali visit. But I had never visited alone and today without Ma acting as a buffer, I was feeling a bit nervous.