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A conspiratorial plan to catch his wife red-handed.

She caught my appreciative looks and rewarded me with a quick hug in between. Go and look as if you were studying or something. That slut must be listening at the door. She may knock at any time. I have deliberately kept the latch open.

I went to my room, and pulled out my electronics kit, and set it up on the table. The radio was playing softly, and my soldering iron was heating up. I dabbed some flux on it to add to the scenario.

None too, soon, there was a knock on the door. Chaya came out, signalled me to continue, and called out, "Who is it". It is I, replied the nosy neighbour. The door is open, come in, called back, Chaya and went into the kitchen.

The woman sailed into the house and started to look in each room. She started with the kitchen, inspecting what Chaya was doing, and she pushed my door suddenly. I looked startled and disturbed. Oh, Aunty, if you wanted anything, you could have sent word. I would have been there. I am working on a Electronics project, so I did not notice you coming in.

Is that slut of a Chaya, doing everything properly, she roared.

I don't even notice, Aunty, she follows my mother's instructions. If she creates any trouble, let me know, I can teach her a lesson or two. It was quite difficult to suppress my laughter, at seeing Chaya mimicking her, behind her back.

She left in few minutes, giving unwanted advice to Chaya, who took the chance and dropped a heavy iron bucket of water on her foot. As she fell down, she got a few well positioned jabs from a hard object as well. I rushed into the kitchen hearing the commotion, and soon had her on her feet and out of the house.

For quite some time, we could hear muffled yowls from across the hedge.

Chaya served me lunch. I insisted she eat with me, but she refused. She fussed over me, just like my mother, but this was more enjoyable. She did not refuse my occasional hug, and even took a bite at my offering of bread rolled up with curry. Her cooking and use of spice in the curries, were exactly like my mother's. It was obvious to me that Chaya had excellent powers of observation. She seemed to have enough life skills. I looked up and it seemed that she was a bit different around her bust. She caught my eye and blushed and went away to the kitchen.

I finished up a couple of minutes later, and hearing me push my chair back, she came in to gather up the items on the table. I was already feeling a bit drowsy, and told her that I would be taking a nap.

I soon dozed off into dreamless exhaustion, and after a couple of hours, I woke up to find a warm body next to me. It was Chaya, sleeping soundly, with soft breaths. Uncertain as to where I was, I got up gently, and pulled away the light blanket that she had covered us up together with.

She was wearing a floral patterned bra and a matching panty. That was the change that I could not put my finger on at lunch. Both the lingerie had delicate looking lace at the edgings. It did not look expensive, no doubt she had splurged the little allowance that I gave her in the morning, to please me. She must have taken the lead from my little porn scrapbook.

With her lissome body and contours, she looked quite a bit like the bikini clad circus artiste. In fact, she looked much better than that. I drank in the picture, and pinched myself to make sure I was not dreaming. I did not own a camera, and even if I did, I would not have dared to have taken a snapshot or her berry toned body, tight figure, almost grown up breasts encased in perhaps, the first bra she owned. I did not put it past her to have tried on her various mistresses bras, when she got a chance. Much like she would indulge in 'testing' their perfumes and lipsticks.

She must have sensed that I was up and perhaps about. She woke up, stirred and looked around. I had pulled up my chair to a position of vantage view. She noticed that I was intently keen on her new getup, and asked me whether I liked it.

It is fantastic, Chaya. Thank you for doing this for me.

She stood up, and gave a few strutting poses for my deligh

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