The mirror was an old one, picked up at a wood factory in Juhu a year earlier. Its oak frame holding glass that was wavy and dappled with dark spots. My image is slightly distorted, Vandana thought. Seeming unconcerned about any distortion, she tried on each of the three tops in turn, and then selected two others from her closet, repeating the routine of bending this way then that, while viewing the amount of cleavage each successive bend or twist might reveal to Umed when he stood across the counter from her at the bookstore where she worked.

Guys just don't get it ... how hard we work to get them interested in us, she thought. And for what? Hoping to land a quality guy as a husband?

Umed was a good-looking guy who had popped into the Oxford Bookstore the last two Tuesdays where she worked, looking for a particular book. Vandana had placed an order with another bookstore for it and it had arrived yesterday, which was a Monday.

She kept dipping a shoulder to see how much breast showed and then tried an even deeper bend. She was truly surprise to see that a nipple was clearly exposed by that particular action.

This is the top for today; she told herself, and then allowed herself to try on two skirts before deciding that the first one was right for her outfit.

Still standing in front of the old mirror, Vandana gave some thought to the various men in her life:

I guess the first one would have to be Ketan. She closed her eyes and tried to visualize him, but could only convey a leering rusty-haired boy who had pushed his way through the other kids on the school bus to sit beside her. He had squeezed himself onto her side of the cracked leather seat as the bus made its familiar and halting way down the highway, expelling children at each stop like chocolate covered morsels from Dairy Milk bars.

Ketan never actually touched me, Vandana recalled, but he had leaned on her, and he had looked at her. The experience had been both frightening and exciting. The way he had shoved and bumped her had made warmth start between her legs and roll up her body until she could feel the heat turning her face red. It was uncomfortable. She had hoped he wouldn't stop. But that was as far as he had dared to go, and it was the only time he did it.

Who was next? That Bhatnagar guy? Mr. Bhatnagar, her older sister's boss. He must have been in his thirties; and whenever she came by to pick up Rani he would call her into his office and flirt with her. Vandana clearly remembered the first time he had touched her. He had run his finger up her leg and it had electrified her. God! I stood there like a statue, pretending not to notice while rockets went off in my skull. But it wasn't just the one time ... it had happened several times. Oh yeah, it happened every time I stopped by after that. He'd invite me into his office while he had Rani do some busy work elsewhere. He would talk and talk, it didn't matter to me if he was reading the fucking telephone book, just as long as those fingers kept creeping up and down my leg.

She paused, trying to recall why it had ended. There had been no scandal, no one, including her sister had ever suspected any impropriety on his part.

Then she remembered: His hand had gone higher than ever before. Not just fingers, but his whole hand had come to rest on her panty-clad crotch. I hadn't uttered a word in all the time his fingers had felt my legs up. But when his palm pressed against my pussy, I had been stunned and uttered one word. "OH!" and it contained neither a stop or go imperative to it. Just a simple, "OH!"

It was enough to make him stop. Vandana's first thought was that her sister was about to enter the office, but she was at the other end of the hallway filing some papers. No, it had been the sudden progress that Bhatnagar ji had made with her that frightened him into withdrawing his hand and that had been the end of his sorties under her skirts.

Who was next? Sanjay ... no, Srilekha. Vandana glanced in the mirror and saw several drops of sweat sliding down between her breasts. How nice it would be if I could strip and let the breeze lick the sweat from my skin, she thought and smiled.

Vandana's mind returned to Srilekha. They'd met in college, but nothing happened between them until the afternoon they played bunked classes and went to the movies to see Ranveer Singh in Gunday after watching his film Band Baaja Baraat. Srilekha claimed he had something called the X-factor, and Vandana had been unable to argue the point as she also found him delectable eye candy.

The girls sat next to one another in the dark, while a wavy shaft of light cast the film on the large screen in front of them. Above the faint hum of the projector they could hear the shuffling of feet as the other, older teens watching the film, like most teenagers the world over, found it next to impossible to sit in one position very long. The darkness, combined with the muffled shuffling and other noise, turned the barren theatre into a very private place.

For the first part of the film, which both would later agree was boring, boring and in Srilekha's case, very, very boring – Vandana would trace a delicate line up and down the soft skin on Srilekha's arm. Srilekha returned the favour after Vandana brought a halt to her meandering fingers. Vandana stared entranced at the screen while Srilekha's fingertips did their feathery stroking, wishing it was her leg and not her arm that Srilekha was cautiously caressing. Later, in the theatre toilet, Vandana sat on the commode and peed then wiped herself and felt a sharp thrill that caused her to touch herself until she had a small orgasm.

They had never repeated the touching again; in fact, Srilekha had transferred later that semester when her father relocated to Delhi.

Sanjay been her first lover, seducing her in the backseat of his Maruti 800 her second year in college. It had never occurred to her that one would go to bed with a man and not marry him. But she had. She had enjoyed the sex, hadn't she? Vandana gave it some thought while unconsciously rubbing a nipple until it peaked. Or was I too busy worrying if it was all right to do this, or try that position? And what might he think of her if she wanted to try something else?

Did I ever truly relax when we were doing it? She couldn't recall and left off teasing the nipple. Still and all, he was the first guy I ever fucked.

-------

Vandana arrived five minutes late, but no one at the bookstore seemed to notice. She kept glancing at the entrance, not wanting to miss Umed's arrival. Unconsciously she would use both hands to push her bra up, until catching herself at it, and then she willed herself to keep her hands off her breasts.

Umed was a no-show and the disappointment showed in Vandana's face each time a stranger entered the store. It was ten after four Vandana's shift ended at six – that the older gentleman entered the store and walked up to Vandana to request if they had a certain historical novel.

Vandana leaned over the computer searching for the book, unmindful of the amount of cleavage she was revealing to him. Lost in the computers columns of books, she did not realize that he positioned himself so that he was angled over the counter to obtain a better view of her breasts until she found the novel he'd requested, and only then did she see where his eyes were fixed.

"Ahem," she said, trying to bring his focus back where it belonged. What Vandana didn't realize was that although she was now aware of where his eyes were, she had not changed her position to deny him the full view he had of her mammaries.

"You have beautiful breasts," he said quietly.

"What did you say?"

"You have beautiful breasts," he repeated.

And just as with the youthful Ketan years before, she felt the warmth start between her legs and roll up her body until she the heat turned her face red. Once again, it was disconcerting, but she hoped it wouldn't stop.

"Am I embarrassing you, Madam?"

She couldn't bring herself to answer him for several long seconds then said simply, "No," she said then cleared her throat. "You're not."

He glanced around, saw that no one was close at hand before speaking again. "Then would you mind showing me a little more?"

"What ... what did you say?"

"I asked if you wouldn't mind leaning forward to allow me to see more of your bosom."

His use of the word, 'bosom' brought Vandana out of her stupor. Why not? I wanted to let Umed have a gander at them. This guy seems nice ... at least he's asking me."

"No one else needs to know. But what I've seen so far is magnificent."

The politeness of his choice of words and the fact that she had been practicing showing her breasts off in hopes that Umed would come by and ask her out solidified her decision.

"All right, but don't touch, understand?"

"I won't, unless you want me too."

Vandana glanced around. The manager was in the bathroom, he emptied his bowels at this time almost daily. The assistant manager was in the farthest corner of the store helping an elderly woman.

Feeling safe enough, Vandana quickly raised her top exposing her breasts to the man standing before her. Her tan lines made her appear even sexier than she actually was.

He took in the view: the nipples were dark brown and extended out a good half inch. In his mind the stranger thought with some gentle lovemaking he might get them out another half-inch and he began to grow hard.

"Hurry up and finish looking," Vandana said nervously. She realized that she was wet down there and squeezed her thighs together and felt a sharp thrill pass through her loins.

He continued to stare at her breasts, the contrast of her white skinned breasts versus the tanned parts of her upper chest and stomach made his cock twitch.

She took a deep breath and lowered the top. "So, what'd you think?"

"They’re unbelievably beautiful," the man replied.