I mean, I was definitely picking up a vibe from him, but it wasn't creepy at all, it was just this terrible sadness in him, and kinda nervous too, not...nervous like "oh boy I'm gonna rape this girl", more nervous like "what if she doesn't like me, what if this is a terrible mistake". And all these things were still inside me and just pushing so hard to get out, and I wanted so bad to tell him, cuz it felt like he liked me, the same way I liked him. But what if I was wrong, and I started saying. She then just asked me where is my friend and said that she had to go to other houses and left. That day onwards things changed between us. We greeted each other with a smile. We also spoke on numerous occasions, though the conversations were small and formal.I got a better idea about the houses she would work at and when would she be free. She also asked about my college timings and I would try clashing my time of getting home in order to bump into her. I started taking the stairs now hoping. Feeling the hands of the servants groping her buttocks, sliding between her thighs, fingers squeezing, melding the base of her breasts, tugging her against the elevator’s wall as her breasts are pressed, flattened against the warm stainless steel, she continues to remain silent, face the occupancy limit sign on the semi-mirrored surface as the servants have their short moments of pleasure with her. As a tip of a finger scrapes across, pushes past the sphincter of the rim of her anus, the door. To complete this task I stood close behind her (could smell her silky hair), holding her pallu tight over the left shoulder. I got a feel of her smooth back. Then I put my right hand out to adjust the front of pallu going across her body. Feeling her waist and boobs in one single motion going from down to up.When she didn’t mind, I moved my hand back from top to down, smoothing the pleats once again and feeling both her boobs nicely this time. Then she asked me to pull her saree down to hide.