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The Guidance of Nephews Ch. 01

By: misterwho



Saroja's situation was really remarkable. She pondered the events leading to this day, when she was nursing three cocks at the same time. Nursing is the only word that could adequately describe what she was doing. It had not yet become an outright gang-bang and she couldn't say if it would become that. Yet, there was one cock in her mouth which she was lovingly kissing and pumping with her mouth, another in her fist which she was rewarding with strokes, and a third which she was consoling by caresses with the sole of her foot.

All three cocks were just being petted, caressed and fondled. None was a complete fuck. At least, not yet. Neither of three men was bold enough to react on their own to add to the chemistry. And that is because men don't open out to each other or in front of other men so easily.

Perhaps that is why gang-bangs don't happen so often or so easily in India. We don't have football locker rooms where could get comfortable with one another.

Or is it because men compete for the attentions of a woman and that doesn't come easily in our overfull houses and an approach that is actually fear rather than conservatism? Given a chance....

And due to the competitive and starved scenario no man really lets on about his sex life; they like to perpetuate the myth that each is a lothario.

And that is why the three young men with Saroja did not respond or participate fully in the initial period. They were unsure of each other and because the bullock cart in which they were traveling was shadowy inside in the evening light, they didn't know that Saroja was active with the others too.

Now it would have been completely different if it was more than woman. This scenario is, in any case, every man's ultimate fantasy, so he is likely to lead them on should anything start. Two women loving each other in the presence and in tandem with a man does happen. Two men loving each other with a woman joining in? No, not really.

Women know each other, talk about how their men are with them and talk about their bodies. They change in common rooms, help each other bathing and often discuss problems of the female variety with great confidence in one another. For one woman to see another in any state of undress is no big deal. In fact it happens all the time. 

And that is why Saroja's situation with her three young relatives was remarkable. She was one woman and there were three of them. 

The family wedding which Saroja was returning from is a typical example of how women talk to each other and are comfortable with each others bodies. Usually, in such events all the women shared the same room, bathing, changing and adorning themselves in the presence of the other women of the marriage party. The men do not get to sleep with their women; all the women cluster in one or more of a set of rooms.

It is a great chance to gossip and catch up with one another. As a herd they find comfort in one another. And usually this ensures they are never late for any of the important functions, because from the bride onwards everyone is getting ready in everyone else's presence.

Saroja had come for this wedding with her husband, his younger brother and two nephews. The younger brother was 27, and the two nephews were 18 and 19. Saroja and her husband ranked as seniors but they were not that much older than the others. Saroja's husband was 33 and she herself was an alluring 29.

Their branch of the family was city-bred and much of the rest of the family came from smaller towns and were not quite the same social class. Relations were excellent but the common ground for fun and games was not the same with the larger group as it was between this closed group of man and wife with brother and nephews in tow.

And so over days of travel by road and the three days of events the five them stayed closer to one another and the bonding grew. While Saroja knew her brother a bit better, the two nephews were just acquaintances to her. Over these days, the five of them had had a rollicking time together. 

Their jokes made sense to one another and their tastes were similar too. For instance all of them secretly enjoyed eating chicken and had noticed the "Naidu's Military Hotel" on the way to the marriage hall. It seemed neat and likeable and like a bunch of adolescent brats, they sneaked out and ordered only the side-dishes. The server was amazed that no rice was eaten as accompaniment! 

Saroja was utterly fun-loving. Even as their car journey into the rural hinterland commenced, she was the one who was constantly asking the car to stop to buy groundnuts, bananas, to drink coconut water and eat guavas. 

The nineteen year old Gopi found his aunt completely exciting for the kind of personality he was. Completely uninhibited, she sat next to him in the car letting her thigh rest against his. He journeyed, very conscious of the fullness of the leg against his. And when she fell asleep she let her head rest fully on his shoulder. The soft, warmth of her womanliness was deeply satisfying. 

As the car had jostled and she moved with it, her saree pallo slid and Gopi allowed his eyes to roam the gently swelling slopes her breasts. From where he was sitting, he was able to look right own the front of the blouse, where the sumptuous mountains of Saroja's fleshy breasts disappeared into a mysterious darkness. Her 'taali kodi' (necklace indicating married status) snaked over the hills and valleys of her flesh like a gleaming river. Her cleavage could well have been a gorge into which the river disappeared, hidden from the eyes of adventurous explorers. Like Gopi....

At every stop, they rearranged themselves in different seating orders. Soon enough, Gopi lost his vantage position. But his younger brother Sundar too had the same attraction to the alluring, buxom, playful Saroja mami (mother's brother's wife). She had her arm on the backrest of the car when Sundar fell asleep and soon his head had leaned into her armpit. He smelt her sweat which seemed aromatic. It disturbed his drowsiness and his senses became aware. As he slumped lower, his face came to rest against the breast itself. 

Sundar had savored every moment he pretended to be asleep as his lips lay open against the swelling of her breast. Saliva dampened the breast and Saroja did not mind the boy drooling in his sleep; it was something that happens to everyone while asleep.

Ravi, the brother was older than the two youngsters and could not sidle up to be with Saroja but he felt the tug too. His sister-in-law was saucy and spontaneous and his brother Arvind was serious and introverted. Saroja found a companion in Ravi to respond to her jokes and some of her saucier ones were reserved for Ravi's ears; she couldn't be that risqué with those two younger fellows. Ravi responded to her in the same spirit.

And then there was the afternoon when the 'nalang' ceremony was held. This ceremony is a hangover from olden times when the bride and groom, who traditionally marry o orders from the parents, used to get to know one another through a series of familiarization 'games' played in the presence of the entire family of both sides.

Songs are an integral part of this ceremony and it is normal for someone musically minded to render a film or popular song, replacing the names of the protagonists with that of the bride and groom.

During this song session, Saroja had made bold to break the taboo and sing raunchy film songs. She enhanced the raunchiness by dancing to the numbers, wiggling her hips and thrusting her breasts and jiggling the, as the dancers in the movie were want to do. And in the heat of the moment with a small crowd dancing along, Ravi had jumped, thrusting himself back at his 'manni' (sister) in rhythm also in the fashion of the film heroes. 

This usually elicited a lot of laughs, including the older 'mamas' and 'mamis' being indulgent at what on another occasion would have invited retribution and recrimination. The ladies laughed, winking at one another, and making suggestive remarks to the bride, full of innuendo.

The older men took the opportunity to lech at all the younger women who were bold enough to dance.

What particularly added to the flirtatiousness in this case was Ravi, Gopi and Sundar's readiness to help by singing the lyrics along with Saroja. Whenever there came a particularly innuendo-laden stanza, Saroja would pretend not to know the words and hum along. Immediately the trio would offer the exact words, making Saroja blush initially. 

Later she laughingly joined them, betraying the act she actually knew the lines herself. Radiant eyes met, hands touched and laughter resonated at a very personal level.

The three young men found that the woman they called "manni" (sister) was a sexual bombshell, ticking every minute. (They all called her manni though for Gopi and Sundar she was mami. This happened because the age difference was not significant.)

Now, while all of this raised the temperature, many of us will recognize that this happens in almost all weddings and would have happened to most.

But what was completely different and unusual in this case was when Saroja refused to share the rooms of the women-at-large because it was just too messy and a big jumble of people and things.

She insisted on a separate set of rooms which her husband's branch of the family would use separately. As it happened, there was only one available room at the chosen hotel which would meet her standard. It was suite, and so there was an additional drawing room. The group agreed that this extra space allowed enough space for all to sleep and enough privacy to change.

By then the comfort with one another had reached such levels that Saroja quite often, did her makeup wearing just her blouse and petticoat. Each man got an eyeful of Saroja manni's ample bosom, her burlesque ass and her luscious lips and profile in various poses. 

And so it happened over the days that each of her unstated sexual suitors had that extra moment of intimacy.

In Gopi's case it was the moment when she realized her bra was far too dark under the color of her blouse and could be seen separately. She called Gopi - and this is where getting ready with other women helped; there was no limit to exposure and the nature of help asked for and rendered, without sex getting in the way. Saroja had noticed subliminal messages from all three and perhaps getting a little bit of harmless sex in was needed. "Poor boys!" she sympathized.

"Does this bra show?" she asked, looking herself front and back in the mirror, her eyes meeting Gopi's in search of a reply. "Hmm?" she persisted. Gopi's throat was dry. He had been secretly glancing at her and now he found himself being asked to specifically look at her. He didn't know how to acknowledge his awareness of the 'bra' as a concept and answer without letting his manni feel that he had been eyeing her.

"Ada- sollu pa!" she exclaimed, eyes dancing. (Hey, tell me!) "Lost your tongue? Look here," she said, turning her back to him and hands tracing her bra-strap. With her eyes on him in the mirror, she asked, "Does this show?"

Gopi's eyes were not on the back. They had been on her mounds of flesh straining against the blouse when she was facing him. As she turned away towards the mirror, back to him, his eyes had followed. First the bust-line appeared as she was half turned. And then came the gently heaving mounds of delectable flesh.

"Look here," she emphasized the 'here', pointing to the bra-strap, "and not here" she continued, her other hand passing over her bosom. She quickly converted the overt sexual reference to an innocent remark by adding, "Here, the saree will make sure nothing is seen. It is only at the back."

"It shows," croaked Gopi, then he weakly added, "the bra shows," immediately turning deep crimson in embarrassment.

Saroja noticed that the boy was self-conscious; or perhaps very conscious of her sexuality. "Ok, wait here. Let me change to something else," she said turning away from the mirror to the corner, one side was the wall and the other was the door to the bathroom where Sundar had gone. (Ravi was running some last minute errand outside.) She was going to reveal something which she didn't want Gopi to see in the mirror.

Back to him, she removed her blouse and her bra. Gopi felt a maddening erection as he took in the sight of her bare back, with its glowing skin and vast expanse of flesh to caress. What was more, when she lifted her arms to slip on the blouse; he was rewarded with sight of the sides of her swinging tits. Gopi quickly ran his fist over his hardon confident that she wouldn't turn around now and got some relief from the ache in his groin.

She now wore a skin colored bra but the yellow of her blouse was very pale and showed the color through. She needed to be sure; but she was also enjoying teasing the boy. She wondered if he had ever seen bare breasts. She turned around and asked him again, moving in front of the mirror to check for herself.

This color was obviously wrong and even as she asked Gopi for his opinion she shook her head. Not yet moving to the corner, she started unbuttoning the blouse, baring her bra encased tits to the young man. Gopi drank in the sight, following her with his eyes till the last moment when she moved out of the range of the mirror. 

Saroja removed both blouse and bra and once again stood bare back to Gopi who was not only fighting the monster in his trousers, but also the monster unleashed in his head. His Saroja Manni was lusciously appetizing.

Now Saroja found that the final bra which she wanted to try was not at hand but she had already removed her top. "Gopi," she called then stopped, realizing that she ran the risk of showing him more of her body than even she could accept.

She turned her head around to check where he was relative to her while her body was still towards the corner. As she turned, she saw his hand rub the front of his trouser and in that one glance the sexually shrewd Saroja saw the tented erection. She had caused a problem. She decided that she would have to handle this business of getting the other bra with a little more discretion.

"Gopi," she said, surprised by how hoarse her own voice had suddenly become, "just find my white color bra in the bag." She now had her arms across her chest to ensure her breasts were not exposed to him. She found it necessary to twist a bit toward him to see if he was accessing the right part of the correct bag. Gopi was painfully aware that as he turned sideways she could probably see his erection. He hoped not.

But he was hoping against hope. Instead of looking at where Gopi was searching, her eyes were intently on the clearly significant bulge. Gopi picked the bra and waved it at her but the moment he looked there, his eyes were transfixed on the side of her breast which was fully exposed to him. "No," she shook her head, "it is a front opening one," she told him and her regret at sharing intimate details of her apparel on a madly aroused teenager was instant.

Gopi tore his eyes away from the beautiful luscious woman. Her shoulders were bare and her back was a smooth expanse of flesh. Her breasts were pendulous and barely concealed by her arms. As she gesticulated, he got a glance at one breast; the nipple was brown and like a piece of dried date, seemed so sweetly suckable.

She cleared her throat and felt the color rising to the very bosom which she was looking to conceal. It rose to her cheeks and she stood perfectly still, woman and boy acknowledging the sexual moment with a moment's quiet.

Gopi found the bra and handed it to his Saroja manni, eyes watching closely for the moment when her breast would be exposed to him. It was exposed as she reached out to take the bra. She didn't just take it; she took it tenderly. Equally tenderly, slowly, she put the bra on her shoulder and as the cups were brought to cover the tits, she turned to face him. "Thank you," she whispered, giving him a look at the deep valley between the mounds. What had been a dark mystery the other night was now his to feast on. 

Leaving one of the cups of the bra precariously hanging on to the massive breast it was tasked to hold, she put a hand on his shoulder. There was a fractional moment of indecision as the hand lingered. Was it meant to pull or push away? Saroja turned him away with a finality, and in a parting gift the bra cup slipped off its precarious perch giving one final look at the wrinkled, long, brown, oh-so-suckable nipple.

Any thing that happened by such accidents left no feeling of guilt on Saroja. She turned back towards the corner which was her sanctuary from the wildness of hormones and allowed the bra to fall open as she got her blouse on. Gopi turned his back on her dutifully and obedient as ever and mumbled, "Let me go help Ravi mama". (mama: uncle, mother's brother). He closed the door behind him.

As her arms were up slipping into her blouse, her breasts swung, heavy and suddenly seemingly full from the close encounter with her elder nephew. The bathroom door opened and fresh-faced Sundar found himself staring at swinging mammaries of his aunt. The nipples had started to grow taut under a delayed reaction to the events that had just passed. Sundar gasped as he saw her lovely breasts in their full splendor. Ever since he had slept against them in the car h8e had wondered how they might look and how they might feel without the obstructive fabric in between.

Now here were the magnificent peaks he wanted to conquer! He was out of breath and as he sucked in air, his towel came undone and the 18 year old found himself nude in front of Saroja manni. As if in sync, his cock rose to salute the sight presented to it and Saroja found herself staring: it was a long cock of average thickness. She was caught so unawares that her own hands didn't respond quickly enough to cover her own breasts.

"Shut the door," she whispered, her voice sounding seductive at a bad time for an aunt. Sundar had been about to bend and pick up his towel but he instead responded to his manni's order and moved for the door. Unable to take the embarrassment of his now complete erection she bent to pick up the towel. Her eyes were on the long cock as if she was keeping her eye on it to avoid a collision with her face. Her face and lips were perilously close to it.

Sundar jumped and ducked reflexively in defense of his cock. Saroja couldn't help chuckling. As the door shut, they found themselves in the bathroom; Saroja had stepped on the inside of the door which was meant to shut their view of each other. The door to the room outside was still just shut not locked. She draped the towel around his waist, her tongue saucily in one cheek as she smiled at Sundar's awkwardness.

"Enna? Idu daney?" she asked. (It s this isn't it?) Her hands reached for his and lifted them to hold up her breasts, like fruit being assessed at a merchant's. Bringing her face near his, she breathed on him while a hand crept up and bolted the door; the unbolted room door was risky enough. She couldn't have anyone walking into the bathroom and finding her half clothed with a half clothed teenaged nephew.

Sundar froze with his hands on those breasts. He couldn't feel them much as he had dreamed of doing just that and more.

"Go on. Feel them and be done. I know you have wanted to ever since that day in the car," she said softly. He could not have known that she equally craved a man's touch, now that she had been on display for a while and had seen her effect on the boys. She looked down and saw the tented towel, and then it parted and out nosed the cock.

Instinctively, her hand reached down and took him in her soft fist. She slid her hand under the towel and her other hand rested his head to her bosom. "Inda," she murmured. (Take.) Sundar let the weight of his head rest on the soft pillows of her breasts as he succumbed to his own dream of lust. His arms went around and he caressed her bare back with one hand while the other felt and weighed and savored the volume of her breast.


The Guidance of Nephews Ch. 01



She weighed his cock and slid her hand on it, facilitated by the slick mess which seemed to have coated his head in an instant. As he kissed the slopes and nuzzled her with inexperienced wild hands, she masturbated him expertly. He slobbered and felt her, unable to effectively convey any sensations to the woman. She fucked him with her hands sending him into rapturous shivers from the very first slippery thrust.

The more she drove him crazy, the more incoherent and meaningless his moves on her became. As he jerked to an expectedly quick cumming, he bit on her breasts. "Dey! Hush!" she calmed him. Those bite marks were high on the slopes and would show up!

Sundar shuddered helplessly, his eyes closed and his face crushed against her breasts. Her hands flooded over with gobs of cum as the young man had his first release in the arms of a woman. It wasn't a fuck; but it counted as exponential progress for a guy who hadn't held hands with a girl in his lifetime. "Manni, manni, manni," he sobbed in gratitude, with loud gasps interspersed. As the tremors quietened, Saroja wiped her messed up fingers on the towel. 

She herself was a bit breathless with desire and was surprised at what she had just done. The young man was taken care of; but her own arousal which had caused her to be reckless in pleasuring him was unabated. It was with difficulty that she had managed to remember where they were and the chance that someone would soon come knocking. She also had equal difficulty in settling for his pleasure, than taking her own as well by fucking him. He was a sweet young man but fucking him was no joke.

Flirting was something which came to her naturally. Being sexy was something she just liked being without meaning to cross limits. But somehow, the growing familiarity of the last few days, the heady atmosphere, the closely packed togetherness and some blend of lust and sympathy when she came face to face with Sundar had caused her to cross those very limits. To most of those in that very hotel and the marriage hall nearby, a handjob was as sacrilegious as a fuck.

Holding him close she whispered into his ear, "Don't come out right after me. In fact, kuli (have a bath). Dirty boy! And take your time, get dressed. I am sure someone is already in the room outside." Tousling his hair with affection, Saroja stepped out of the bathroom with her blouse and bra still hanging open.

And as she shut the door and looked up, there was Ravi, agape. "I am sorry, I should have knocked," he stammered. His reaction was no different from that of the other two. Ravi was unmarried but he was not expected to have the same wild hormones of the nephews. However, Saroja's beauty and the sexy meter of her breasts was universal in its appeal, it seemed.

Saroja rapidly put the hooks of her blouse together to quickly cover herself; the bra within was not hooked -- it would have too long and she could not afford to let Ravi have such a good look at her tits. The rapid succession of events was making her increasingly vulnerable and she needed to get a grip of herself. This was more so with Ravi who was her husband's brother. The nephews could be expected to keep quiet as they were beneficiaries of her sexual largesse. Ravi was a different matter and may have exposed her to her husband as a libertine.

She quickly tried to put a casual spin on it by changing the subject. To keep the change in topic somewhat natural, she quickly thought up of something playful.

Leaning close to Ravi, Saroja said, "Hey, Ravi! We should have danced these steps to that 'Nattukattai' song," and with that she leaned towards him, wiggling her shoulders. It had the effect of making her bosom jiggle. Ravi responded on cue, which was a relief to Saroja, but only for a moment. As she leaned over him, he responded with the corresponding motion of his shoulders. And then as she leaned back, he leaned over her, in a samba-like dance. And then it was her turn to lean forward; as she did so and he leaned backwards, she loomed over him, his face at her bosom level.

And the blouse hooks, which had only been tentatively secured by Saroja in her hurry to cover herself, snapped open. Out fell the treasured breasts which every youth in her circle had lusted for in the last half hour. They tumbled out right over his face and by reflex Ravi's hands shot up to grab them.

Instantly Ravi realized that she was not about to fall, and nor were her globes going to splash down on him. He held her nice, full tits in both hands and softly rotated them. She held his arms, feeling his biceps through his shirt, her nostrils flared with excitement and the bubbling cauldron of passion overflowing. She leaned forward and kissed the top of his head. It brought those aching nipples within reach of his lips and he caused her to shudder as his mouth closed in on one.

"Ravi!" gasped Saroja, hands caressing the back of his head ever more lovingly. "Saro" mumbled Ravi, loath to letting the tit-feast slip from his devouring lips. In caught her off guard to hear him call her "Saro' which was an endearment only a person who had intimate relations would use.

"Mmmm. Sollu (say what)," she responded, seething with desire for him. While Sundar's inexperienced groping had caused no particular pleasure, Ravi's lips were playing magic with her pleasure zones. 

"Hmmm?" asked Ravi. "Ennatha solla (what shall I say?)" he asked between mouthfuls of flesh and nipples. He put his hands behind her slipping under her blouse, caressing the back gently. Hands roamed her body and torso as lips sucked greedily on the date-shaped nipples. Saroja clung to him as a tidal wave of pleasure rocked her body and she clung on for dear life.

Unknown to herself, her legs had parted and like a sluttish whore she had opened herself to being pleasured anywhere Ravi cared to touch. Ravi's hand found her gently fluttering stomach to be searing hot and when the other hand slid under her petticoat to claim her pussy, it was found equally sizzling.

"Manni," gasped the equally aroused Ravi as his fingers probed the broad pubic zone. Coarse hair of a woman who shaves periodically, the slippery outer lips and the lush wet forest into which to plunge all welcomed his probing fingers.

"Ah! Enna da? (What?)" asked Saroja not really expecting a reply. She humped his hand with her hips and the broad pleasure of his fist was quickly replaced by a focused spearing of her cunt by fingers which caused her to scream with release. Ravi found her clit with an experienced which belied his marital status. "surely he is getting it somewhere," thought Saroja irrelevantly.

"You are sexy and gorgeous!" he exclaimed, continuing to caress and squeeze his objects of desire.

"Ahan! Ai...yo! Dei! Vidu da! (leave me!)" she begged, pulling him closer, mashing her breasts into his face as he finger fucked her, striking and stroking her clit each time.

Anyone entering would have found Saroja hunched over her brother, her legs spread at a whorishly wide angle and his hands disappeared into the folds of her petticoat. The exact penetration of his fingers was covered by the cloth, but the thrusting by both of them, and the resulting convulsions were explicit and left nothing to anyone's lurid imagination.

She wanted more and lifted her leg and placed it on the bed, creating a yawning gap between her legs. "Tei! (Rub)" she ordered, setting a furious pace. But she barely lasted as orgasm seemed to course through her effortlessly. Her fingers clutched his hair and dug into his scalp. He sat back on the bed, thrusting, sucking and swallowing as waves swept her body.

Saroja's sexual release was complete, except for the now throbbing ache for a cock in her cunt. As she was contemplating this, she heard the shower in the bath stop and knew Sundar would emerge to the room very soon. She wanted to push him away but his treatment of her breasts was amazing! The way he chewed and pulled on the nipples, the way he massaged the mass of her flesh, the way he sucked in more than he could contain in his mouth.... The pleasure streams were endless.

And she had done nothing for him. Her hands wandered to his crotch and she laid her palm along, feeling her way around alien territory. She soon felt his scrotum and the trunk of his cock -- oh, my god!- it was thick! Were they really brothers? She quickly traced the outline with two fingertips eager to find the full contour and size him up. She found the head, slung a bit to the left and two fingers rotated on it, creating a frisson of pleasure.

She would have loved to fuck him then and there and do full justice to his endowments. But that would be unthinkable. Her husband's brother? She was his 'manni', for heaven's sake! She was glad that there was no time. Nothing else would have successfully stopped her from breaching the barrier and fucking her husband's brother. Her eyes were closed, face radiant. She shuddered at the thought of what she was missing and what was never to be. With one last wistful grind at the cock she pulled back. 

As Ravi's hand left its lair, they both looked at his fingers. They were smeared with her juices. Ravi brought it close to his eyes; for inspection? To smell? To taste? He was fascinated and wanted to do lots with it and lot more with this wonderful woman. But the sounds from the bathroom indicated Sundar was about to emerge.

Ravi smeared the mess on the sheets at the base of the bed, nearly under the mattress, a spot which he thought would go unnoticed. She quickly stuffed her swollen aching breasts into its confines and put the clasp on her bra. As she hooked up her blouse, this time carefully, the door opened and out emerged a rather dazed looking Sundar.

Saroja kept her eyes down. In one short spell of 40-odd minutes she had gone from everyone's fun-loving manni (bhabhi; sister) to the seductress-at-hand. Having got a release at Ravi's hand, she, at this moment wanted to revert to being a sweet innocent manni. Avoiding everyone, she moved to a different corner with her things and concentrated on getting ready.

And yet, here she was, a day later, in a bullock cart, like a whorish slut seeking and working on their three cocks. This time, simultaneously. And she was hoping, rather foolishly, that in the dull evening light, within the darkness and shadows inside the cart, the three would not see or notice what was happening to the others. 

Once again, the juxtaposition of the four of them in a situation where Saroja lost control of herself happened by chance. She had thought that she put behind her attraction to these young men when the next 24 hours passed without incident. She was a little more circumspect after her close encounters with each of them and this was noticed by her husband.

"What happened? Why are you so quiet?" had asked Kumar more than once of his wife. She didn't say much, telling him that this was now the serious part of the function and that was the only reason. Each of the three others thought it was the effect of what had transpired between him and Saroja. Only Saroja knew that she had some dalliance with each of them separately in one wild burst.

Her mind now drifted to the next set of events that unleashed the full tempo of her bottled up lust. 



The Guidance of Nephews Ch. 02



Saroja had become extremely friendly with her two nephews and her brother. They turned into a fun-loving group and this added to the fun and games associated with a typical Indian wedding. Her husband was a serious, morose type, but he always responded to good company.

The increased familiarity with these family members who were infrequently encountered crossed all limits when Saroja decided to share the same room as the guys instead of staying with the women of the wedding party as was the custom. Seeing each other in stages of undress caused arousal. The older woman found her shy, strong nephews exciting. Somewhere an element of sympathy also crept in, for she knew they were starved of good female company.

In quick sequence, by turns, without one man knowing that the other had had a special encounter, Saroja had an encounter with each of them. First Gopi, the elder nephew got a complete eyeful of her large breasts. Then the younger nephew Sundar was rewarded with an exhibition as well as a fist-fuck, drenching Saroja's fist with his virile outpourings. Saroja did not flinch as he came in large spurts. He was afraid the warmth of her fist would be gone soon; but no -- she stayed and allowed his jerks to subside fully. Finally, Ravi, the brother had chanced upon her with her blouse undone. As they moved closer, Ravi had whip-sawed her cunt with unrelenting and rough fingers bringing her to a blinding, much-needed orgasm.

It was all very circumstantial; Saroja rationalized the events to her self. There was no other way she could come to terms with the sheer illicitness of her deeds in that brief hour. She had bared herself like the slut she was in her inner recesses to three relatives all of whom had looked up to her this far. Her own husband's brother and their nephews. Had she polluted innocent minds? Or had she just given an outlet to what was already raging in their minds and therefore, cocks?

Now, the wedding was over and they were headed back on a long drive to the city. As the car made its way, there were stretches where the road was still in the making and the surface was really bad. On one such stretch the car gave way and nothing much could be done except to get a mechanic from the next large town.

Arvind Kumar was unsure how to handle the situation, but he soon decided to take a passing bus and get a mechanic. There was not too much debate on who should stay behind. None of the three young men who were in awe of the sexy Saroja volunteered. Each secretly hoped that the others would leave with only one of them staying behind with the sexy Saroja. In the hustle bustle of the day and the jostling in the car, she seemed unraveled and ready for plucking. Her pallo was all messed up and saree was askew. Sweat patches made her damp blouse stick to her skin revealing delicious skin. As for her cleavage, it seemed ready to burst upon anyone who so much as glanced at her bosom.

Kumar however left behind all three of them so if anything needed attending, there would be adequate backup. After kicking around the dust for a while, the group noticed a bullock cart coming by. It was decided that they would take this cart to the next village and leave a note in the car for Kumar. In any case the village was on the same road and in the same direction that Kumar had left. They would get some nourishment and wait there, which would be more comfortable. It would certainly be safer now that the evening was upon them.

And so it came to be that Saroja was in the covered portion of the cart with the three gallant men forming a cordon around her. Ravi, the eldest of the group (if you didn't count Saroja) sat to the front, behind the cart man. He laid his back to rest on one side of the cart and stretched his legs to the other side. He formed a barrier between the inside of the cart and the crossbar where the cart man sat. He felt like the commander of this mission, keeping an eye on where they were headed.

The two nephews, Gopi and Sundar sat at the back of the cart, opposite each other, legs stretched out towards one another. In this position they were protecting the cart from any entry. The middle section thus became a sanctuary and it was here that Saroja sat, shielded from all sides. Little did she know she was like a Queen Bee in that spot. With the sun beginning to set, the inside was darker still, with only shadows and silhouettes playing games. 

After a while, Saroja felt tired with the cramped seating space and the jolting of the cart. "Ravi, I am tired," she said to the brother seated toward the front. "You think I can stretch out?" she asked. 

"Of course, you can. I am sitting like this. You too can," invited Ravi hoping she would sit resting against him.

"No but you are leaning against the side. I want to lie down completely," said Saroja. "You wouldn't mind if I put my head on your leg and stretched my feet to the back, would you?" she asked. Without waiting for an answer, she rested her head on Ravi's leg, just below the knee and stretched towards the teenagers at the back of the cart. But her knees were bent and leg folded so she didn't touch them.

"But listen," protested Ravi, "you don't have any pillow, it will be hard" he said, reaching out for her head. 

"It is okay," she replied, snuggling down and as his hands reached her head, she touched the palms of his hand with her lips, kissing but not making a sound with her lips. The boys at the other end might hear if she made a sound. 

She just meant it as thanks, but Ravi had just not been able to get his mind off the sight of her luscious breasts looming over his face, or of the volcano of orgasms between her legs. He let his hand linger on her head, stroking her cheek as he withdrew his hand. She was still his brother's wife and he didn't want to take chances. After that hot encounter with her in the rooms, she had never given any indication that there was a new equation between them. It was perhaps in the heat of the moment and never to be repeated?

As the cart jolted and lurched, Saroja's head rocked and rolled on his legs. As she felt her face crushed and rubbed against his legs, she realized not far from where her head was, was that very thick cock she had felt through his trousers. His ankle and calf were bony indeed and his thighs might have been softer on her head and face she thought. Besides...

Like a cat in pleasure, she stretched at the thought of Ravi's thick cock and her legs touched the legs of the boys sitting at the back of the cart. At first her legs reflexively pulled back. Then she felt she could be more comfortable if she just laid her legs on top of their legs. She angled her body. As her legs went on top of Gopi's legs, her head crossed Ravi's knees. She buried her face in Ravi's thighs, just above his knees.

In the shadows of the cart Ravi felt comfortable enough to let his hand drop to her head. He tousled her hair. Saroja sighed. Her hand went around his hips and she clung to him. Ravi squirmed as his briefs became uncomfortably tight. He tensed his muscles taut and stretched his legs, benefiting from the immediate relief from the squeeze on his cock.

As it tensed and squeezed against the fabric of his underwear, Saroja's head found it. She rubbed her face on the tenting in his trousers and fingers ran along his back. Ravi's hand rested on her head willing her on. Saroja recorded the signal; he had given her an orgasm, perhaps she too should pay him back with one she thought. She pushed and prodded at the protuberance with her head and cheeks never letting her lips or mouth on it.

As she did so, her legs stretched further and she felt Gopi's legs closer to his knees. As her body recorded the contours of Ravi's cock her body inflamed. "Poor Gopi," she thought. He was the only one who had not had a chance beyond just seeing her. She decided on the spur of the moment that the poor boy should at least get a rub. With her foot she searched out the boy's crotch.

Gopi froze. His mami (aunt) had first put her feet on him and he had resisted touching it at all, much as he would have loved to. But now here was her foot straying on his crotch. He tried not to move. Perhaps Saroja manni was asleep and her leg was wandering. He didn't want to acknowledge that while enjoying the contact with the mature, older woman whose breasts he had greedily eyed just yesterday.

Gopi's first hint that it was not all that accidental came when Saroja felt out his cock and placed the sole of her foot against the base of his cock and pressed. Gopi gasped as her toes seemed to search out the head of his cock and give him a squeeze. He quietly reached down and undid his fly. He struggled to let his cock out without alerting Sundar who was sitting just opposite him. 

Little did he know that Sundar, lucky as ever, even though he was younger than Gopi had Saroja manni rubbing his crotch with her hand. Why leave him out, felt Saroja. The three guys were in different sections of the cart and a little parting gift would be harmless. That had been her initial thought. But the dimensions, the variety and the idea that this was a passing opportunity made her adventurous with every passing moment. What was more, the darkness in the cart was encouraging.

Her plan was to just titillate the younger men, while with Ravi, with whom she had a more adult and special relationship, she was willing to go further. Perhaps because his cock had dimensions that made her throat dry. The thickness had left her wondering if both Ravi and Kumar, her husband were indeed brothers. Ravi was so thick and full, whereas Kumar... she had to have that cock!

Perhaps it was the pleasantness of the evening and the rhythm of the swaying cart. Perhaps it was each man's prior experience with the woman. Distinct, full of promise, yet unfulfilled. Or perhaps it was that the slut in Saroja was awakened. None of them would know for sure. In the later years, each of them ascribed different reasons for what happened next. But that evening, the unifying factor in all four of them, was pure lust. Illicit, yes. Forbidden, yes. Debauch, yes. But lust- pure lust.

Flesh hungry for flesh. Man and woman wanting one another. Except there was more than one man. Or was it more than one man. There was one man; the others were going to be made into men by her. Today. Here and now. With those thoughts Saroja assaulted the three young men surrounding her. What was a protective ring, became an attacking ring as she had more than one front to handle.

Saroja's fingers briefly struggled with Ravi's trouser. She didn't plan on opening him up herself. She just did enough to leave him in no doubt about what she wanted. Ravi raised his hips and having undone his trouser, bared himself completely to his sister. Saroja's lips briefly touched the salty member. Her hand joined in, touching and teasing the virgin cock. It leapt before her eyes and she soon felt the moist slick precum that flowed freely. Her stroking hand encouraged that as she wanted the salty sweat to be replaced by salty precum. That would be more acceptable to her tastes.

Ravi thrust his hips at her. He had used his fingers to fuck her hard yesterday. He now wanted payback, whether hands or lips, he didn't care. The reluctance to engage in illicit sex was all too brief. Visions of his brother evaporated as Saroja manni searched out his thickness, signaling her own unalloyed desire.

Saroja felt and marveled at the specimen. Large, proud and ready to serve. She compared what was in her right hand with Sundar's cock in her left hand. Longer but not as thick. Ravi was stocky, ideal for her cunt. Sundar was longer and bulky, good to toy with but a second to Ravi. As her foot played with Gopi's cock, that youngster brought in a new dimension: his hands slid under her saree as she played with him and stroked the back of her thighs and her ass.

Saroja sighed as she felt the need to do everything with everyone. Gopi's hands were promising with their exploration. Ravi seemed salty but she just had to suck him. And Sundar -- well, she knew from before she could make him cum easily.

As her tongue snaked out and leapt at his rearing cock, Ravi was maddened with the butterfly touch. He wanted more and with his hand on the back of her head, he pushed her down onto his cock. Saroja gagged as he went as far as her throat. What was he trying to do, fuck her throat. She choked on the salty jism and pulled her head back. Her hair fell forward on the cock, making it seem like a monster lurking in undergrowth. She pulled her hair back and opened her mouth into an 'o' getting ready to mouth him to redemption.

Her legs were splayed as she reached backward to keep contact with Gopi. The open spread of her legs allowed that enterprising fellow to reach between her legs and stroke her ripe, full thighs. He groped, anxious and eager. He wanted to reach his goal before she came to her senses. Little did he know that his Saroja manni was wild with lust. Saroja generously lifted her leg making way for his probing hands. Gopi reached the hairy thatch between her legs and stopped not knowing what to do next.

As the fingers of Gopi touched the hairy fringes of her pleasure point, Saroja closed her mouth on the cock under her and her grip tightened on Sundar's hapless cock. He whimpered, biting into his lip to avoid raising alarm.

Ravi was wild with desire for his manni. His hands gripped her breast in its confines as he closed his eyes and imagined those lovely heaving tits before his eyes. He thrust himself wildly into her mouth, impatient in seeking his pleasure. He wanted to fuck her, o god! He wanted to cum into his sister urgently. If it was to be in her warm bubbly mouth before that wet grabbing cunt he had earlier felt, so be it. But it had to be now. He groaned loudly, uncaring about his nephews in his lust. He was brutal in fucking the mouth and Saroja's jaw ached as she did her best to take him as well as she could.

Her own responses were felt on Sundar's cock which was twisted, turned and fisted in no rhythm at all. She was mauling the flesh in her desperate search for her own pleasure. Thus far she had kept a little quiet trying to be discreet. But unless Gopi were guided, her cunt was going to be parched and starved for action. And in any case, Ravi's groan could only have been understood as intensely sexual. She might as well get on with it.

"Verala ulla tallu," she hissed feverishly in his general direction. (Push your fingers in.) Gopi panicked as he heard those words. What about the others? And what about her? He was unsure of everything. The wild and shameless desire for his aunt had driven him to explore her, hoping for the cover of darkness to protect him. Now she seemed to bring it all out to the open. What about Ravi chitappa (father's younger brother) who seemed to be groaning in some kind of pain? Or was it pleasure?

His eyes searched out that senior family member to see if he could take the chance. And there in the shadows, he could make out the man with his head thrown back. At first he felt he might have been asleep. But it seemed to be jerking. Also jerking with his head, was Saroja manni's head, which seemed to hover over Ravi's lap. He couldn't quite see what was happening but he had seen some shots in a porn movie which resembled the action up front.

Boldly, Gopi prodded with his hand. As he felt some softness he became cautious. He didn't want to injure his sex-goddess. Saroja grabbed his hand and taught his fingers to part her flesh. Once he discovered the path, the nephew proved to be a good learner. He plunged his hands in and out. He knew that is how a cock is supposed to fuck; he mimicked it with his fingers. Satisfied that the young man had hit his target, Saroja's hand went back to Sundar's cock. As she returned her hand, she found that the young man had unleashed his own cock. Her soft hand met with his warm expectant cock-flesh.

Ravi at first thought Saroja was saying something to him, but her lips were dancing on his cock head and he gave up trying to understand what she was saying. He was just glad she had stopped talking and gone back to cock sucking.

As all three men peered toward Saroja their eyes got used to the light levels and while they didn't have to look each other in the face, it was clear to each what was happening. They were simultaneously pleasuring Saroja manni. She was aunt to Gopi and Sundar and while one was shamelessly plundering her, the other was succumbing to the illicit pleasure she was giving.

And the man charged with taking care of everyone was with his trousers at his knees making sure that his sister, who he was supposed to take care of, was giving him the fullest pleasure.

For Saroja the madness of the moment added to the pleasure. All three of them were wonderful youngsters and she loved them all. There was no saying when they would all meet again and she felt each of them deserved sexual release. They had experimented and found a pool of desire; that discovery had to be given its fullest expression. 

She moaned loudly onto the cock in her mouth as Gopi searched out the limits and extremities of her cunt. Fingers stroked cuntlips, g-spot, clit and deepest recesses of her womb without understanding anything. "Oh wow!" gasped Gopi in excitement at new undiscovered worlds. 

The rough and willing exploration by the novice was provocative. His hands seemed to demand and her body seemed to just give. She felt the squelchiness in her cunt. She was aflame. She raised her head off Ravi who groaned in frustration.

"Vaa, pa. En pinnale va," she called out to Gopi. (Come, dear. Come behind me.) Frantically she hitched up her saree baring her ass to the cool evening breeze. As he lay behind her, she reached behind and pulled his head to her own lips and kissed the boy. His first kiss, so he could not have known what he was tasting. She was salty and that was in part his uncle but he didn't know. He relished everything to do with this woman.

Ravi let his hands into her blouse and pinched at her nipple to make her pay attention back to him. He rolled and rotated that lovely knob on her breast. He wanted to suck them. He wanted her in a comfortable soft bed with silky sheets where he could feed on her incessantly. His hands groped for her head and his fingers entered her lips. She kissed him and caressed and accepted his touch. But she focused on getting Gopi where she wanted.

"Have you opened your pants?" she asked Gopi. "No," replied the boy hoarsely. "Modalla ada pannu," she hissed. (Do that first.)

She slid down her mouth on Ravi's cock which was leaping wildly staining her cheeks and hair and her face. Gopi undid his pants and his cock sprang out. He lay against his aunt's buttocks, cock resting harmlessly against her hot flesh. His head was on his uncle's ankle and he felt awkward about that.

"Now what, manni?" he asked for instructions, ever the little boy.

Out of consideration for Ravi, Saroja gripped his throbbing cock in her fist and milked him steadily. He didn't deserve the abandonment! And yet, young Gopi was to be instructed. Now she had to leave Sundar unattended but there was no choice. Hands clammy with Sundar's juices she twisted around to reach behind her and find Gopi's cock. She sighed contentedly as she felt the near-twin of Sundar's cock.

"Vaa da, kanna," she said in endearing, mother-like tones. (Come dear.) Reaching under her own body and behind she held the cock and raised her upper leg almost vertically. As she held him to the gate to her heavenly pussy, she encouraged him, "Push!"

Both Sundar and Ravi stared in amazement at the lucky Gopi. Sundar masturbated furiously as he took in the sight of his aunt lewdly taking in his brother's cock. Ravi too would have masturbated to relieve his inflamed condition but he had Saroja looking out for him. The wet open mouth sank back as Saroja screamed her pleasure out over his cock. The pleasure was from the impaling of Gopi's virgin cock into her tight cunt. ehind her and laid into her with the full power of his thrusting hips. She seemed to grab him into her sheath like cunt. He shuddered with every thrust. Next to him lay his brother sprawled at an angle, his aunt's hand gripping his cock in a vise-like grip. And Gopi watched Saroja's body below him as he grunted his pleasure at each thrust.




The Guidance of Nephews Ch. 02



The hips were flared and wide, lovely to take a man at his fullness. From there, the hips pinched in as curves dipped. And from there they flared up to form her chest, large as they were to hold her massive tits. And then that gorgeous hair which had right now fallen forward, covering the sluttish sight of her gobbling his cock. What a beautiful woman and what a sight to behold!

Ravi had his had on her head and back, egging her on. "Suck me, suck me, suck me!" he begged as the sister dutifully pleasured him. He need not have begged. She was keenly gobbling his monster anyway. But he just needed her to know that this was not the moment to leave him for even a short while. She had to take him now the whole distance.

That left Sundar the pleasure of pawing her breasts. Gopi dug his nails into her ass as he held her in place to fuck her hard and forcefully. He wanted his aunt to come back to him again and again for a manly fuck and he fully intended to outdo the others. His thrusting shoved Saroja on Ravi's cock.

Ravi had nothing on his mind other than this luscious woman who was fun to flirt with and was now turning out to a fuck of a lifetime. Her gold chain, hanging with all the symbols her marriage to his brother was banging against his cock and his thighs. 

Saroja could not have expected more from Gopi; he was a virgin and this was highly arousing. His fucking had rubbed against all the right spots in her upturned cunt and she was sobbing her pleasure onto Ravi's cock. The jolts and jerks of the cart also gave new angles of fuck. God this was so wild! She just hoped her young lovers stayed discreet. Maybe then she could have them forever! She raised her head a bit and quickly rubbed his cock while running her lips on the head. Ravi felt his orgasm ready to burst and wondered whether he should cum in her mouth. "Manneeeeeeeeeee!" he wailed, signaling his loss of control. 

Saroja did not leave him to worry on that. Since one hand was busy with Sundar she could not rest her body on hands and lift her head off. She continued to pump the cock, unrelenting in the pleasure she gave Ravi. Her Ravi! Her jaws ached and her throat was raw because Ravi insisted on fucking her as is this was her cunt. But it was her Ravi!

She was also trying to make Sundar cum. The gallant young man added her breast to the cocktail of pleasure. Her cunt, her hand and her mouth were full of cock. And her breasts, ass, head and shoulders had hands grabbing at her."Mmm. Mmm. Mmm," mimed Saroja, eager to signal to all three the rhythm and the consistency of her pleasure-giving. 

The first to cum was Gopi. "Manneeeeeeeee," he shuddered as huge gobs of cum released into her. She thrust back, careful to time herself to give him more pleasure. Each thrust back caused a gush of semen which seemed like a never ending flood to her. She felt his cum drip out of her cunt onto the hay below. 

The thrusting of her body onto Ravi's and Ravi's maniacal fucking of her mouth caused him to jerk into her, emptying his cock into her mouth. Saroja let it fill her mouth, holding him as best as she could for his pleasure. Her hands stroked the thighs, his balls and any other part of his body within her reach. But she was not about to swallow his cum. She allowed her mouth to fill and the semen to flow back out onto his cock and flow down his balls to the hay-covered floor of the cart. 

She moaned out a long "Mmmm" to let Ravi know that she was enjoying his cumming and thick flow, even if she could not swallow it. 

"Two down, one to go!" she thought to herself and then felt shocked to hear her own slut-like thoughts.

The shots that she felt splatter against her bare midriff, the side of her blouse covered breast and arm were Sundar's tribute to her. 

Saroja held on to all three lovers. Ravi held her head down, seeking more and more pleasure with his continual thrusting. She realized he wanted more from her and wished she could have given him her cunt. He was thick and was sure to have stretched her to new, enjoyable dimensions. But Gopi, with his nails digging and his longer-than-average cock was touching her in amazing spots of his own! She rocked her hips back and forth maximizing his pleasure even as she set a rhythmic beat between cock in mouth and cock in cunt.

The cart was filled with gasps and groans as each closed his eyes and imagined himself to be alone with the sexy luscious Saroja. It was as if his cum was the only one she was enjoying. With eyes closed, and Saroja's caring attention to each, each could imagine they were alone with her.

But Saroja was with all three. Impaled, skewered, plundered and stained, rocked and thrust from one cock to another, she would have nothing less than all of them this way. . Every reflex of hers resonated on one of the cocks. She loved all three of them. All dear to her and all her dear husband's clan. She sighed and mumbled incoherent words of endearment for the three. 

It was Sundar she let go of first, because of the awkward angle of her hand. She justified it to herself by saying he had had her just before in a cumming yesterday as well. The boy though, continued to hold her breast, weighing it in his hand, feeling and touching her. It thrilled her as her body wanted to be caressed in the throes of pleasure.

She did not want to swallow her brother's sperm. She opened her mouth and whatever had flowed out, she rubbed her mouth and tongue on his thighs. His cock remained in her fist, jerking and releasing as he came down from heaven.

She wiggled and pleasured Gopi's cock till it receded and slipped out. The drained boy slid to the cart floor behind her. She too collapsed. Gopi held her from behind, throwing his leg over her hips and they were soon lost to sleep. Sundar snuggled up to his mami, burying his face in her breasts once more like many times before on this trip. And Ravi held Saroja's head as he leaned back and slept in the cart.

They slept in a heap of sexually relieved bodies. There was no more lust in any of them, so completely drained were they. They held each other in affection and bonding as they realized they loved each other deeply.

And yet, hen the cart man shouted to them on arrival at the village, the three men got out of the cart in different directions. For in the outside world, she was aunt, sister, wife and what-not. To that world they arrived separately. Leaving Saroja behind they avoided each other as they went to look for arrangements for refreshment.

Saroja took her time. She cleaned the sticky residue of their cum. Her bra was no longer properly cupping her tits as both Sundar and Gopi had toyed with her even in their sleep. She adjusted that. Her saree no longer covered her with any modicum of modesty. She tried to fix it as best to avoid looking like the slutty woman she had been in the cart. Using a corner of her pallo she wiped her lips of any trace of Ravi's dried cum. 

She looked disheveled, ragged and unkempt as she emerged from the cart. That was only to be expected in a cart ride. By the light of the lanterns in the village, not much could be seen. But to the eyes of her brother and nephews, she seemed like a radiant, luscious woman, who was well sated and happy.

Without saying much to one another, they filed into the idli shop for a round of much needed nourishment of a different kind. 



The Guidance of Nephews Ch. 03



Saroja had never felt this uncomfortable ever before with Sundar around the house. The young man had come visiting his aunt and uncle, ostensibly on a college vacation. To his parents it did not seem like an unusual request. The twenty-year boy had been visiting his aunt's since his childhood and spent many of his vacations there. Those were usually during long summer vacations. 

But this time, Sundar had gone there, even though he had very few days off. And yet, no one thought anything of it. 

But Saroja knew better. Several months ago, Sundar, his brother Gopi- both her nephews -- had two unexpected sexual encounters with their aunt whom they loving called "Manni" (for sister; though strictly speaking she was their aunt). 

In those episodes, Gopi had stolen a march on Sundar. While Sundar had to be content with the vigorous jacking-off his manni gave him, Gopi had actually got to fuck her. Even today, when Sundar lay on his bedding roll trying to sleep, the image of Gopi kneeling behind his beloved Saroja Manni haunted him. He had fucked her like an animal and she had enjoyed it like one.

He knew. Her moans and groans and the way she had fisted him conveyed her extreme pleasure. And yet, he felt he could have loved his manni more than anyone else. Before, when he masturbated thinking of her, it was sheer fantasy, pleasure and illicit beyond dreams. Now when he masturbated, it was always an agonizing scream in his throat as he came, that it was not he who filled her that evening in the bullock cart.

It became an obsession. If she did it twice, if she did it to his brother and to her own brother, then she could go some more distance. He fantasized about how he might do it. And where. And when. The kitchen? At night? When uncle was away at work? And how to leave his brother behind, for traditionally, they had always traveled to his aunt's together? Sundar's seething jealousy slowly resulted in a cooling of his relationship with his brother. In fact, Sundar had nothing on his mind nowadays other than Saroja's breasts, her soft thighs and the heaven he could experience lying with her, inside her.

It was that obsession which Saroja spotted instantly as the young man arrived at her doorstep having come in by the morning train. She was in her nightgown and his eyes seemed to be piercing through to see if she was wearing any under garments. The normally relaxed and casual Saroja felt compelled to throw a dupatta (a thin chiffon veil) around her shoulders. She knew that the arms of her nightgown were so lowcut that her breasts could be seen below the armpit. And all the bending and leaning during the course of housework....

"No," she decided. Her face flushed at the thought of all the randy things she had done during that marriage trip. "Weddings are like that," she rationalized it to herself. The atmosphere was always flirtatious bordering on libertine. Yet, three uninitiated men, first in turns then simultaneously, shamelessly baring herself in different ways -- she had gone too far. And now look at Sundar. Crazed. Obsessed. "No. What I did, is in the past. I could justify that -- but anything further from here cannot be. It would be wrong," Saroja was decided and determined.

They sat at the breakfast table. Arvind, Saroja's husband knew nothing of his wife's new found dimension to the fondness for his family. They were having breakfast and Arvind was ready to leave for work. Saroja was now dressed in the traditional saree and blouse, having bathed before entering the kitchen to cook.

"Your father called to say you aren't doing too well at your college. Look, you have very high scores from the previous semesters, don't let this one semester drag you down," said Arvind to Sundar. 

"Mm," grunted Sundar.

"What kind of reply is that? Did you bring any books along?" asked Arvind. Though he was the young man's uncle, the age difference was a lot lesser than one would imagine. Sundar's father frequently had Arvind help him with handling the boys.

Sundar shook his head in the negative. No, he had not brought any books. (He actually had, but didn't want to tell his uncle that he had, to avoid studying.)

"Look, this won't do," Arvind scolded the young man who nodded his head dumbly. Suddenly Arvind felt sorry for the kid. "What is the big thing I have achieved with all the pressure I went though in my studies?" he wondered. "At least let these kids enjoy. Enough of preaching."

"Ok, now that he is here and without books, let him have a relaxed time," he told Saroja. "Promise me you will go back and study like before?" asked Arvind. 

Sundar nodded. The only thing he wanted was for his uncle to go. He wanted to be alone with the woman of his dreams- Saroja manni. Could he get her to show him her breasts again? The first time it was all-too hurried and the second time there was not nearly enough light. Moreover, she was on her knees, her breasts were swaying below. He had touched them and felt them. But he had not had enough of them. They had felt nice and full; he wanted to try squeeze them, milk them and suck them.

Arvind shook his head as he came down the stairs and found the young man still at the table staring vacantly. He could not have known than in his mind's eye Sundar was seeking out Arvind's wife's breasts.

"Pamper the boy!" called out Arvind to Saroja as he left for his day's work. Saroja had avoided sitting at the table after Arvind had gone up.

She came to the door of the kitchen and leaned on the door and watched the sullen youth at the table. Behind her the maid was washing vessels making clanging noises. 

"What is wrong?" Saroja asked, taking care to spread the upper part of her saree cloth wide enough to cover her chest and midriff completely. A saree is worn with a petticoat and blouse. What might seem like a very modest dress is actually extremely sexy, and especially so if the woman who is wearing it wants it to be so. The midriff between the petticoat and the blouse, sometimes exposing the navel and the soft curve of the belly is alluring. And the blouse can leave nothing to imagination, if it was tightly cut, or with a low neckline, struggling to contain full, heavy breasts and you could also have the tailor make them practically backless.

Saroja was conscious that blouse she was wearing was a bit tight. Indian women tend to wear their older clothes around the house, even if they are ill-fitting. But Saroja, extremely self-conscious about her sexual aggression from the marriage season was regretting her choice of blouse at this precise moment.

Sundar didn't reply. He just shook his head. What he wanted to say, he couldn't. He wanted her to just take him in her arms and soothe him, break out his tension, and let him bury his head in her breasts while she took him in between her warm inviting legs. How was he to say all that?

"Have you really allowed your marks to slip?" she asked. He nodded, yes.

"Then how are you going to get into your MS program?" she asked. No reply.

Saroja almost knew for sure what the matter was but she didn't want to acknowledge it. In her mind she had blocked it out. She was in denial.

Looking at him, sitting there in a slouch, head hunched, she realized the young man was a psychological shadow of his former self. She had seen him grow from a little boy to a tall broad young man. And yes, she had felt his cock, longer and bulkier than that of her own husband, his brother Ravi and of his elder brother Gopi. Ravi was thicker -- for her the pick of her lot. She was comfortable with that. Ravi, Arvind's brother seemed more legit, given that he was older, in his late 20s. She felt a flush. Oh god! How she had gorged on these three in those two days!

But here was the outcome. She felt bad for having converted this bright young man into a gloomy brooding guy.

"Come on, what is it?" she demanded, moving closer to where Sundar sat. Sundar kept his head down. The maid watched from the kitchen beyond, continuing with her chores. She was on old hand and had seen this family grow from one thing to another.

"If you are going to say nothing and do nothing why did you come?" she asked. Still no reply. She moved really close. From where he was sitting, her much-desired breasts were at his head level. All he needed to do was turn towards her and embrace her. But he didn't. All he dared do was look at her form from the corner of his eye...

She reached out and ruffled his hair. "Come on, Sundar. It's not so bad!" she said to him softly. He turned towards here. He could practically smell her. The damp smell of mild sweat, typical of the heat of this port city. He looked at the cloth covering the entire torso of Saroja's body. He leaned back and looked beyond at the maid in the kitchen. But for that maid there, he would surely have put his arms around Saroja manni and buried his face in those cushiony breasts.

She knew that was exactly what was on his mind. And she knew it was the maid restraining him. If this young man was going to do anything good with his life, it would be because she solved this problem for him. And if he was going to amount nothing, that too was going to be because of her. And having nurtured him, looked after him and mothered him from time to time over all those years, she could not let that happen.

She put a hand on his shoulder and said, "Come with me," and she was surprised at how dry her throat had suddenly become.

Saroja led the way up the stairs, to her bedroom, towards her marital bed. That was the only place the maid wouldn't enter if the door was shut. Sundar didn't follow. He just sat there at the table. "Hey! Come on! Vaa da!" she called from there. She was going to hold him close and talk to him, make him open out. Then she would explain to him that whatever happened during that wedding was over and in the past. She was there for him, but the way an aunt should be there for the nephew. Not the man-woman thing. She could swing it with him, she was confident.

The maid turned to look and saw her mistress leading the young man up the stairs. Sundar walked behind Saroja, his eyes on her ass, as it rolled and swung sexily as she climbed up the stairs. He wanted to lean forward and bite her. God, he wanted to eat her, consume her, and devour her!

She pulled him into the room. She stood near him, not too near according to her; but tantalizingly close if you asked him.

"What is the matter with you?" she asked.

The young man stood there dumbly.

"Go on, tell me! Otherwise how am I to help you?" she pleaded, "Your performance is falling at a crucial time in the college, isn't it?"

She thought she saw him nod ever so slightly, but she couldn't be sure. This conversation was going nowhere.

He was in a daze. When she led him up the stairs his heart started thumping hard and he was not sure what would happen next. He knew that was her bedroom and that could mean intimate things. But that room was also Arvind Uncle's; it could be that nothing illicit would happen there. The act of taking him to her bedroom suggested an invitation from his vivacious and risqué aunt; the sacred marital bed suggested a limit to what might happen. Whereas in any other room, he could even be bolder....

Such were his thoughts, even as his dear and beloved manni hoped a conversation -- intimate if need be, but a conversation nevertheless- would have the young man focus back on his work.

Finally she felt she needed to make a move. She pulled him close, leaning back against the wall. "Enna (What)? Tell me now atleast" she urged him. She had her arms around his neck, and caressing his head. She noticed how she was looking up to him, he was taller than her. 

He felt her softness envelope him. Those soft cushiony breasts were pressed against his chest. Saroja shifted slightly and her thigh grazed his crotch. It indicated a strong hard erection. "Oh no!" thought Saroja.

An instant later Sundar buried his head in Saroja's neck. His face felt hot and suffused. "Enna da! What!" she said. She was not asking; she was comforting. Sundar shook his head, nuzzling her neck.

She lifted his head, and holding him by his chin, she asked, "You want me?"

Silence.

"You are shy with me? With your manni?" she asked gently. "But there is nothing shy about this, is there?" she said, as her hand wandered down to his hard on. 

"What is it that will make you focus on your work again? You want this?" she asked, her hand pulled aside her saree cloth; Sundar could see the slightly faded blouse, working hard at keeping those straining breasts in place.

"You want me to make you cum like I did last time?" she whispered. May be that would help. This much she had engaged in before as well. It was not new, nor further. She waited for him to respond. If she was going to masturbate him, pleasure him, it would be a quid pro quo. He had to open out to her and promise performance at college. No freebies here. 

For Sundar, it was now or never. If he kept quiet, manni would fist him like she had the other evening. And that would be the end of it. He decided not to let go of the opportunity. If was to have her fully, if he was to feast on those breasts, if was to sink into her arms and merge his body with hers, he would have to tell her and now!

"But you did so much more for Gopi!" he blurted out.

Saroja stiffened. The young man wanted sex. He was obsessed with her body and he wanted to fuck her. Maybe the two brothers had discussed the events of that evening. Maybe Gopi had boasted. Maybe....

"I will do all I can for both of you boys. But you must forget that evening. That was an unusual situation," she reasoned with Sundar, as he pawed at the side of her breast.

"But I love you!" sobbed Sundar as he rubbed his cheek against hers, feeling her soft wonderful face with his own face, with wispy strands of a new beard.

"Love?" asked Saroja. "Its not love. You want this. My body. You lust me. That is what has jammed up your brain," said Saroja. She took his hand which was pawing her breast and squeezed his hand so that her own breast was squished. She grabbed his other hand and let him feel her midriff. Her skin felt hot and flushed. She felt delicious and he felt a banquet was at hand.

"No, I love you!" he groaned, as his cock felt trapped. He needed to be let out and he couldn't wait for this negotiation to be concluded.

"Love?" she mocked him. "If you loved your Saroja manni you would focus on your studies only because I said so!" she said, pushing him away now. As she did so, she allowed her hand to drop to see if her debate on love and lust had taken any heat off him. It had not. In fact, his seemed to be a solid heavy cock. She remembered Gopi as being thicker. But that might have only been comparative. Compared to her own husband, Sundar's dimension seemed to be just as impossible and a serious upgrade. "Same family, different dimensions," she found herself thinking incongruously.

"Nor would you be in this state of arousal," she said. 

"That is only because I love you! I don't feel this way with all those girls in my class," he protested.

"Love means not being able to like that with anyone else. But you will get married. In fact, in all probability I will only be selecting the girl for you! Will you not forget this Saroja manni then?" challenged Saroja. It was meant to be a rhetorical question, but the young man took it literally.

"I won't!" he protested again.

"You won't what? Get married? You will have to," said Saroja, thinking of the prospect of reviewing the girls one of whom should be selected. In social circles, there are typical references to whether a boy and girl are suited to one another. Sometimes, an elder would say, "He is well built; the girl will not be able to take it." She pondered that remark. What it meant was that he would lie atop and fuck her silly, and the girl needed to be physically matched with the boy for that. "Such hypocrites! They talk about sex without acknowledging sex! Well, if I go through with this I would be well qualified with first hand information on what it would take from the girl!" she thought.

"And I am married as well. In fact, that is how I know you, right?" said Saroja manni to her "little" -- now large and hunky -- Sundar. "You accept that don't you? That's how it is."

"I don't accept it!" retorted Sundar, thinking of all those unbearable nights he imagined Arvind uncle touching his Saroja manni in an intimate way.

"Nonsense! That too is just jealousy. Sexual jealousy. Another form of lust! Come on, now I challenge you. If your manni says that that one evening was a chance occurrence and you should let it pass, if you really love me, you should accept that. Will you?" she asked him.

Sundar didn't know what to say. Saroja sensed victory. She let the pallu which she had so carefully used to cover her breasts and midriff completely, slide down. "If it is truly love, you should be able to resist this," she said, displaying her tight blouse, with the damp spots and underarms soaked with sweat. 

From less than an arm's length away the treasures of her sexuality seemed so near, yet so far.

"Where," she asked, "show me?" and stepped forward, moving towards him till it was he who had his back to the wall. As she walked toward him, she let the upper part of her saree trail her. It unraveled a little bit and her own breathing seemed to accentuate the plumpness of her breasts. Yes they were plump and heavy breasts, not full and proud ones. 

The young lad seemed cornered. Saroja reached out and touched the bulge in his trousers. "This!" she exulted, triumphantly thumbing the head of his cock, "is the ultimate sign of lust!"

Sundar opened his mouth to say something but nothing would come out. He stared at the slopes of those luscious mounds, slick with sweat and smelling of her womanliness. He wanted to tongue her while squeezing the bulk of the flesh.

She might just have read his mind. "A young man will want this," she clutched at her own breasts and pushed them upward toward him, as if they were on offer. "He will take it from anyone. From his Saroja manni, from Suguna the maid, from any woman!" she hissed.

The middle hooks of the blouse strained with the pressure created by Saroja and the clasp gave way. The blouse opened out in the centre, flesh pushing against the breach, trying to escape the tortuous confines.

The maid, Suguna, who had been wondering about what was going on upstairs, had decided to go snooping. Looking around for an excuse, she found the washed clothes which needed drying and headed up the stairs to pretend she was on the way to the terrace to put them out. She had heard the whispering and argument in low tones and it aroused her curiosity even more. And then suddenly, she thought she heard her own name being taken. She stopped at the landing. The door was open and she couldn't see anyone or anything, so she too was unlikely to be spotted. This was a good place to linger and try and overhear. 

"No! Never!" replied an agitated Sundar, his eyes firmly on the flesh peeping out from the gap in the blouse. He licked his lips and inhaled the aromas of his sweaty aunt.

"Liar! Your body will react!" said Saroja. Her voice was now loud and urgent. "Watch! And prove to me it isn't lust!" challenged Saroja.

Her hand moved to her blouse and she opened out the top hook. The breasts gratefully surged. The slopes were on offer now. She reached to his head and pulled him down. She held his face on the pillowing slopes and rubbed his face on the flesh. It was hot, sweaty and abrasive. The effect on her own body surprised her more than anything. The boy was stiff and resisting, trying to disprove Saroja manni.

Her other hand had slid down his body and was desperately searching for the trouser waistband. In her feverish haste she couldn't locate the gap between his t-shirt and his trouser quickly enough. She wanted the barometer of his arousal in her fist and his face in her breasts. She took a bet he wouldn't last and the release would be the end of his sexual tension. ainst the flesh and despite himself; his lips were dragged and made wet strokes on her already damp breasts. He tasted Saroja's salty skin and sweat. She was stroking his head and rubbing herself against him. And suddenly, she had the band of his underwear pulled as her hand stole in.




The Guidance of Nephews Ch. 03



"Manni!" he screamed frantically. The band was tight and his cock was at an awkward angle. He was apprehensive the elastic would snap back on his cock. His hands thrust his trouser and underwear down in one swift move and the young man was now bare till his thighs as the garments snagged around his thighs, just above his knees. 

The trunk of his cock was in her hand like the handle of a tennis racquet. It was hot and sticky with his oozing. She yanked at it. There was not enough lubrication and the situation was uncomfortable. She needed to open out her breasts completely so he would be more aroused than ever, but she was unwilling to let go what was clearly a very good specimen of manhood. He would ever-so-filling in her womb she thought, even as she worked his cock a few times.

Sundar gagged and gasped. "There!" she said triumphantly, "resist that!" 

"I cannot resist you," he shuddered. 

That was it. The young man had to be shown that it was lust that he was in the grip of. 

She left his cock, lurching and bobbing. Sundar's hands went to Saroja's shoulders, desperately seeking attention on his throbbing cock. It needed her touch and it needed it now.

What was he being asked to resist wondered the maid. She craned her neck and looked in various angles to catch a glimpse of what was happening.

Saroja opened her blouse fully. "Look at this," she ordered him. "Can you resist this?"

Now on display was her bra, a minimal lacy affair. Her brown nipples were clearly visible. 

"If you are talking of love and want my company, that is always yours. We can go out. See a movie. Shop. Eat out. Whatever. But this -- if you want this, it is my body you want. At your age, any young man will want this. I am not blaming you," she held his chin and lifted his face so she could look into his eyes.

"And once you have this, sex will be off your mind and you can think of your studies," she explained to him. "Look down there," she directed. His cock had swollen to new proportions at the sight of the lovely breasts held in the net-like lace of the bra.

"Todu. (Touch me)," she said simply. The young man reached out and his fingertips grazed the nipples in their delicate webbing. They were erect. She was aroused! He went further, pinching one between thumb and forefinger. He leaned forward and nuzzled the nipple with his nose. Everything was hot, damp and sweaty. She smelt heavenly, womanly and complete. 

Her hand went back to his cock, hanging under its own engorged weight. 

"Idu daane?" she asked. "This is it, isn't it? This is what obsesses you?" she held him, arm around his shoulder and fist pumping his cock gently.

He delicately reached for the front clasps of her bra. He wanted to suck in those breasts and eat them like mangoes. But a bra clasp is not so simple. 

"Aah!" cried out Saroja in a sharp nip of pain as the restless youngster pushed the bra strap up to try get at his goal. The elastic cut into the flesh of her breasts. 

"Iru! Wait! Avasara kuddukai!" she chided him gently. (You hasty one!) As her hands left his cock he pressed his hips forward to grind against her thigh. He stained her saree as he kissed her shoulder, her neck and her face, getting in her way.

She opened the bra and pushed him back. She had not uncovered the mounds. In fact, she had pulled the blouse back a bit, so that while her chest was open to him, the breasts themselves were partially covered. She wanted him to help himself.

The sounds confirmed the maid Suguna's suspicions. This was an illicit encounter between the young master and the lady of the house. She was not going to be denied the voyeuristic opportunity. She had her eye on the young man and it seemed that chance had been missed. But she wanted to see more. After trying various angles, she found that the gap in hinges were wide enough for her to capture a view through one eye. And there was Saroja amma, her pallu to one side and the youngster was gazing at her chest. The blouse had to be open from the front!

It was. Sundar reached out and pushed the loose cup of the bra over the ridge of the nipple. With that withholding protuberance out of the way, the bra fell away and the beautiful, luscious breast was in his full view. He leaned forward; from her position, the maid saw his head disappear and her mistress's head throw back in passion. Obviously the young man had sucked in her nipple and she was feeling the pleasure.

Indeed she was. Saroja hissed his name, "Dei Sundaraaaaaaa!" and pressed his head into her bosom. "What is lust for you is lust for me too da, kanna!" she moaned. Her hand roamed his back and she cupped his ass, pulling him to her, helping him grind his frustrated cock into the side of her own body.

Suddenly, everything seemed an obstacle to Saroja. She tugged at the rest of her saree and it came unraveled. Sundar's head now bobbed between the breasts. As her saree slipped to the floor, he let his hand roam her waist searching for a way in, but there was none. The chord of the petticoat was too tight. Instead he found the slit in the front. Through that he slid his hand in and caressed whatever flesh was available to touch. The curve of Saroja manni's belly was what he felt and he squeezed. 

Inexperienced fingers searched for more. He didn't know what he was looking for and what it felt like. Or where he should search. He felt some strands of Saroja's untrimmed hair. He wondered if she had any underwear on, but nothing seemed to touch his hand. What he could not have known was that like most women from that part of the country, they wore nothing beneath the petticoat on most days.

She looked down at the head, lips flitting from one nipple to the other. His lips were wet and slobbering. All he seemed to know by instinct was that he wanted to suck and play with them. He did not seem to know how to give her pleasure. It was one of the mysteries of sexual trysts. The man seemed to get immense pleasure playing with the woman's body. But a woman's nipples were so sensitive; yet, unless the man learned how to give that pleasure, it meant little to her. She watched as the young man played out his curiosity of her anatomy. She took little note of the fingers twirling her strands of pubic hair. She had no intention of letting him go further on that side.

But breasts -- that was different. Mothering him and comforting him and making him come out of his shell was something she was completely prepared to do. The lust in him was inevitable at his age. If a young man of his age came anywhere near a woman he was bound to feel hugely aroused and even take his chances. She of course, had complicated the psychology of that situation with her own indiscretions of that distant evening. But everything could be righted. She had once read in a novel of the woman CEO seducing a key team member one night. The guy was thereafter never able to bring himself to resign. He kept hoping for one more encounter and more, but she never let it happen. Like that...

Sundar's sudden discovery that his teeth could do more with her nipples awoke her from her reverie. "Ah!" she jumped as a bolt of pleasure rippled through her and she hugged his head as his teeth gently allowed the nipple to slip through. He was thrilled at his manni's pleasure and sought to repeat the action. He sucked in her nipple and kept sucking till the body of her breast was nearly a third in his mouth. It was so large he couldn't take in more. Then he pulled back sucking all the time, allowing his teeth to run the rough texture of her now-engorged nipple.

Saroja threw her head back and grabbed at the lunging penis below. It was wet and slick with his juices and Saroja used that to slowly slide her hand along. Her body was in fever and she mentally noted the dimensions of her nephew's cock and how she would have to stretch to accommodate it. Not that she had any intention of, but her own pussy was now steaming and flowing from the treatment her breasts were getting. The youngster was learning fast and her own body was responding in a way that taught him well. As he reamed her nipples and sucked on her breasts, Sundar's hands were not idle. He found the chord holding the petticoat up and pulled at it till it unwound. Now the garment was open. It didn't slide down fully because of the flare of Saroja's hips. But it slid down enough to bare her left hip fully which cause the watching maid's own pussy to start juicing up.

Saroja grabbed the hand which was working to push the petticoat off the hip. "The door, the door," she babbled as Sundar went into overdrive on the breasts, alternating now between the two. The pleasure was intense and Saroja felt her pussy being tugged by the lines of pleasure shooting downward. A tremulous orgasm in her inside was imminent and the epicenter was going to see somewhere between breast and cunt.

As Sundar moved away from her to close the door, he felt held back by the grip on his cock. He paused and she fisted him quickly two or three times. Her face was flushed and lips parted. She could not smile or talk or say anything; her lust was too intense. She left the cock, her hand under it along its length, as if ready to hold any drops.

As the boy went to the door, she went to the bed. She lay down sideways to the left. She was now crossways on the bed she shared with her husband, her marital bed. In her mind once she had violated (been violated?) by another man, it didn't matter. It was a bit like the concept of God; He is everywhere, if you believe in the real concept. So also fidelity. Either you were, or were not. Thereafter, it didn't really matter if the location of a sexual tryst was one place or another. 

She did feel that the three dear ones with whom she had had sexual trysts were too close to her. They were dear to her; they were family members. Instead of taking their needs elsewhere, she had helped satiate their curiosity and that initial hunger in a safe and controlled manner. Much better than whoring which would have been the alternative.

It was in that same role, as the emotional bond, the glue of the family that she found herself comforting Sundar right, albeit sexually. The boy had to be made to concentrate on his studies. The sexuality in the atmosphere was merely incidental and natural given his age. The hormones were bound to play havoc with him it was up to her to use her experience and maturity to help him overcome. In this, sex was a facilitator not the polluter. The pollution, so to speak was already on the young man's mind.

As she lay waiting, the thoughts in Sundar's mind were quite different. As he went to shut the door, he sensed movement outside the door. He glimpsed the maid Suguna ducking away. He was alarmed and was inclined to initially alert Saroja manni. But then he felt she that would merely kill the opportunity that was before him. 

If Suguna was going to do anything immediate, she would have entered the room and confronted them. And if she was going to carry the information then Saroja would have to deal with that. But not right now. Right now, his beloved Saroja manni was on the bed, her petticoat askew, her blouse and bra open, the breasts waiting for him to resume his ministrations. And she was on the bed, where he could luxuriate in her arms and give her and take from all the attention needed.

"Where are you?" called out Saroja. Not that she was in a hurry but surely the maid would come looking for her once her housework was over. And Sundar's erection still needed subduing and she had to talk to him about his studies. In the meantime, she cleverly wanted to remove any misconception he may have that this was love. The "lust line" would help keep the kid in check while allowing her to shower her affections on him however she wished.

"No, just shutting the door," he replied, watching the stairs which the maid had gone up. She too had a sexy ass which swayed invitingly, he noted. Then he noticed that he felt he could fuck that woman too. Perhaps Saroja manni was right about lust. But she was special. May be he felt sexual attraction about Suguna only because he was already well aroused.

He turned to the bed and drank in the sight of Saroja manni lying there. The petticoat was askew all right, but Saroja had managed to keep it below her knee level. The chord had been retied by Saroja lightly; since it was not too tight he guessed he could slide his hands in and explore her fully. May be even get his fingers into her cunt and feel her nicely. The breasts lay open as before. The left breast was resting on the bed, the flesh spread with the nipple brown, puckered, hard and erect, demanding attention. Sweat coated the mound. The right breast hung under its weight, sagging. But not too much considering its volume. For that size some sag was inevitable. But when you considered the weight, it was a wonder that the nipple was near horizontal pointing at him Sundar marveled at the ability of that magnificent breast to hold its own against gravity.

She lay there, her left hand under her head and her right hand resting on her hip. She looked delicious. He wanted to drink in that sight more. He lay on his right, facing her, at half an arms length and watched her. She was beautiful. Perspiration accentuated her sexually charged look. The face was flushed red and the glistening skin seemed mositened with desire. His cock jerked and twitched as he lay there. He was watching, in part because he did not know what to proceed with and how far to proceed either.

She reached out and touched his cheek. "Kanna, (Dear one) this is the mystery of a woman that you can solve for yourself today. See all you want. Hold me. Touch me. I will give you pleasure. Overcome this uncontrollable feeling of lust by experiencing it. After that, nothing can distract you from your goals."

He nodded. His heart beat faster. The pleasure she was promising was the pleasure he had fantasized about for years now and come within a whisker of experiencing the other evening before he lost out to his younger sibling Gopi. Saroja could very well have fucked him instead, but the draw just went the other way. But today was his day.

He noticed teeth marks on those luscious breasts. He reached out and his fingers ran over the marks. Saroja noticed the marks now; she would have to stay away from Arvind, or atleast keep the room dark if he reached for her. There was no way she could explain the love bite on her flesh.

"This is what I meant when I said wild lust," she explained. She stroked his cheek, reached further and pulled his head to her. Sundar reclaimed the breasts that he felt belonged only to him. He held the right one, weighing it in his hand, measuring, cupping and feeling the soft mound of flesh. He squeezed, massaged and played with it. Saroja laughed to see him toy with her. He felt shy to hear the mature woman in her sultry tone laugh at him. It seemed she was amused and was making fun of him.

His cock grew slightly flaccid in that instant and he buried his head in the crook of her arm. She lifted his chin and looked into his eyes. Holding her breast I none hand, she fed it to him. "Open your mouth," she instructed him. Holding the breast as a woman does on feeding a child; she brought it to his partially open mouth and placed the nipple between his lips. She rocked gently pushing the flesh against his face. Sundar's lips closed around the erect knob of flesh and a rhythm identical to fucking commenced between nipple and lips.

Saroja shivered and Sundar clearly heard his manni's moan of passion, even though it was subdued in her throat. His hand felt her tummy, stroking gently as it made its way lower. Saroja caught the wayward hand and clutching it in her own, guided it to his cock. She made him touch himself and then abandoned the hand and took charge of his prized cock. 

She once again gently felt its dimensions. Nice and thick, but not as thick as Gopi. What it lacked in thickness was made up in length. She would have loved to have this inside her and as Sundar mauled her tits she felt herself on the verge of loss of control but she felt there were dangers in indulging Sundar. He could get more obsessive and further imagine that love was the main driver. It was love, but of a different kind. The lust was a complication to handle.

She had said that enough times to her own self to convince herself of it. Yet, when she talked to him on those lines, she could hear her own voice and did wonder. Was not the preaching hypocrisy considering the way she was toying with the young man and the pleasure which now soared between her legs.

She pushed all such thoughts out of her head as she gripped the cock, her hand smeared and coated with his juices. With this lubrication she was going to masturbate him to a full release. Then some comforting. Some talk and the young man should be ready to sit down for his studies.

She held on to him with one arm around his head. She sought her own pleasure from his lips on her breasts. That would do for her. The rest -- she would masturbate herself. Her other hand gripped the cock and she commenced fisting him, methodically, fucking the cock into her fist.

Sundar moaned onto the breast as the brutal beating of his cock caused him immense pleasure. His hips bucked and thrust into her soft firm hand, treating the tunnel in her fist as a cunt to pound.

He moaned onto the flesh filling his mouth as he continued to ravage her breast. His teeth sank in and hovered on the edge of a completely hurtful bite. He held back only be cause he knew that letting his teeth release would hurt her. But the controlled aggression of his lips and teeth on her breasts only heightened her passions. She could sense he was being brutal but that he was holding within the acceptable limits of passion.

"Tell me," she asked breathlessly, as se continued to pump his unyielding cock, "Is it possible to be gentle while feeling so much pleasure?"

The young man shook his head to indicate no.

"Isn't this maddening?" she asked as her thumb thwacked the head. The boy jumped at the new maneuver. She was driving him wild. 

"Manni" he groaned.

"Sollu pa (tell me). How could you inflict those sharp tooth marks on me but for lust?", she asked, running the thumb over the slick cock head again. 

"Love is gentle. Can this be gentle?" she asked. "This animalness is lust," she explained.

The cock was now leaking copiously as she continually alternated between strong fisted pumps and featherlike swipes of her thumb on the cockhead. Fist fuck. Thumb-swipe. Fist-fuck. Then thumb-swipe. Sundar was sobbing onto the breast in this mouth, saliva smearing the flesh and his hand clutching at his manni's ass pulling her close as he could and rocking.

"Stop, stop, stop," he sobbed, fucking her fist even harder as he couldn't resist the pleasure.

She held his cock in the racquet grip and gave him a few high-speed slides. 

"Noooooooooooo" he screamed as he pushed himself away desperate to hold off his imminent orgasm.

"En da! What happened dear?" she asked caressing his face.

"I don't want this. I want what you gave Gopi," sobbed the desperate young man.

"What did I give him?" asked Saroja, leaning forward to grab his cock again. Her hand was a mess now and she didn't want the lubrication to go waste. 

Suguna leaned closer to the door to try and listen to this new gossip properly. What had happened with Gopi? She pressed her ear to the door, uncomfortable with the warm glow between her legs and unable to think of relieving herself. Her husband, she felt was in for a real fuck fest with her tonight. She was going to ride him silly tonight she thought. Sundar put his arm around him manni and hugged her tight, hiding his face in her shoulder. "You let him fuck you," 

Saroja who had reclaimed Sundar's cock and was just about to resume the masturbation of the boy, froze. She felt the contours in her fist and wondered if he would go too deep and hurt her. The girth was fine, she had taken more from Gopi. The same Gopi in that same fuck session which Sundar was now referring to.




The Guidance of Nephews Ch. 03



"That was different, da," she implored.

"In what way? He is younger than me too. How could you do him and not me?" sobbed Sundar, hot tears running down his cheeks as he demanded fair treatment from his aunt.

"Appadi ellam sholla kudathu," She soothed him. (You shouldn't say such things) "It just happened that day, that's all. Haven't I always treated you like my favorite son?" she asked, her hand still steady on Sundar's cock. She found herself pressing the head a little to head off his orgasm and wondered why she did that. Didn't she want him to finish? 

She continued to rock the boy, comforting him.

"Yes, but when it came to this, he got all of you. When it came to really important things he got more," complained Sundar.

"You really think the sex and the lust are more important than the love?" she asked.

"You love him no less. You have yourself said so in the past. And then this. So all in all, he has more, doesn't he?" countered Sundar. His hand roamed her back, inside the blouse. Her expanse of the back, soft and broad, felt lovely. He wished she would undress fully and let him feel all her body with all of his. Fingers ran over her ass and caressed her intimately, conveying his sense of ownership of her.

He started to kiss her. First it was her neck where his face was buried. Then he kissed her ear and earlobe. Then her neck. Soon he shimmied down to the level of her breasts and covered them with thousands of butterfly-kisses. She held his head in her hands lovingly, guiding him and allowing him to feast on her body.

"Shh, don't cry," she comforted him as she would a baby. His hot tears receded as he enjoyed tasting every part of her body. Soon the breasts were resting on the top of his head as he kissed her belly. Pushing the petticoat as low as it would go -- around the widest part of her hips -- he kissed her navel and rubbed her soft tummy with its gentle sag and curve on his cheek.

Then he cleverly pushed the same petticoat up and baring her thighs and her pussy laid his cheek against the thigh. Saroja lifted the upper leg, giving her young nephew the space to insinuate his head between her legs. It was involuntary, she could swear. For his part, he nuzzled her hairy patch between the legs. Somewhere deep in that forest of hair lay the target of his endeavors. He knew if she would allow him to lay his cock against the triangle, one way or the other he would find his way in. right now he nuzzled her hard.

Saroja gasped as the young man occasionally touched an erotic zone within her thatch. Her hand gripped her own breasts as she struggled to compensate for his lips and mouth; they had made her breasts and nipples sensitive and pleasurable but were missing when the need had soared.

The need had also soared in the well of her stomach. She could not hope for a very good job of cunnilingus from the novice but she was willing to get all the pleasure she could after all, if she was going to masturbate him to orgasm, so could she let him. It was penetration which would cause complications. She could not be seen to succumb. That was every different from allowing him to have his way in a limited sense. Every step (she justified to herself) was going to make it easier to extract promises for her from him.

With forefinger and middle finger she held apart her cunt lips providing a landmark for the searching mouth to seek. "There between my fingers!" she hissed wishing desperately that the young man would prove good at what he had now initiated. Sundar kissed those fingers and kissed the hair between her fingers, feeling some softness buried within.

"Not your kisses," she told the bewildered young man. Not kisses? Then what?

"Put out your tongue," panted Saroja, unable to wait for his targeted attention.

She hoisted up her knees and spread her legs wide. With one hand behind his head and the other hand continuing to hold her throbbing flesh apart, she urged the boy towards the logical goal.

Tongue sticking out, uncertain on what it was supposed to do, Sundar allowed his head to be guided toward the vale between the legs. He looked upward and say his manni spread out shamelessly open ad wide, breasts were jutting upward and he could not see her face, hidden as it was beyond the slopes, inclines and undulations of her body topped by the peak of her breasts.

He prodded tentatively at the proffered target. His cock was nice and hard and staining the sheet below. ("Would Arvind Uncle notice the smear in the evening and ask?" he wondered.) If he could deploy that -- and how eager he was to do so! -- he would have speared her, here and now. But his tongue seemed too soft and pliable to make an entry...

As the young, inexperienced man prodded and thrust, Saroja realized he did not know what he was supposed to do. She released her grip on his head. Now with two hands, she held apart her thighs, her lips and her fingers did their best to present him with a clearing in the forest of hair between her legs. Sundar watched in fascination as the brown, puffed lips, glistening from Saroja's own secretions stared him in the face.

"Now lick!" commanded Saroja. "Lick?" asked Sundar, confused. She briefly put her right hand once again behind his head and pulled him close. Sundar's nose buried in the wet fleshy opening and he inhaled the intimate, intense and acid aroma of Saroja's deepest recesses. He gasped for breath. His manni was so excited and uncontrolled that she did not realize that she was practically suffocating him. 

Sundar insinuated his own hand between his face and her triangle, and pulled apart the flesh and the hair, so that between Saroja and Sundar once again she was held open and apart for him to be able to focus on his work.

Sundar looked and realized he would rather feel with his tongue than look at her gaping flesh. He buried his face in between her legs and allowed his tongue to 'lick' as Saroja manni had instructed him. She was wet on his tongue but soon, with his tongue stretched out, he found that he too was salivating. He allowed his saliva to flow and dilute the acidity of his aunt's secretions. It diluted the pungency to a point where he was able to taste her better.

Saroja shuddered as the tongue slaked her thirst for immediate and urgent attention. She thrust her hips involuntarily, rubbing her wet, open and raw flesh on his face. From her anus to her clit, she thrust and parried with his tongue. In between, her perineum, the delicate stretch of skin, the gaping open cunt and the opening to channel that descended to her womb, all got passing slaps from his tongue and digs from his chin and nose.

Sundar was a bit queasy but did not want in any way to disappoint his darling manni. Whatever she wanted from him, he would give. And then he knew she would now give him the comfort and pleasure of her bosom. But first, he had to learn the lessons she was so intent on teaching him. He thought of a solution to his queasiness. His fingers searched for the pussy and he slid in two fingers. His chin now rested on his palm and her anus was shielded from his mouth by the hand. 

What was a defensive move for him was an intensely pleasurable maneuver for Saroja. His fingers filled the aching vacuum in her cunt even as she desired more of his tongue on her clit. "Oh! This is good! Goodddd! Ah!" she gurgled as with each thrust of her hips the fingers fucked her. With her hand she now guided his mouth back to the ramparts of her cunt. The lips, the channel in between and the clit on the top. 

The new sounds, scuffling and moans were just too much for Suguna's curiosity. The maid found a new chink in a window to the room. What she saw stunned her. The youngster had his head between his aunt's legs. The woman was lying back, her breasts bare, legs spread wide. Suguna's own body started to stir with lust as she watched her mistress indulge her own nephew on her husband's bed. She stroked her pussy through her saree, seeking her own relief.

Unknown that he was giving pleasure to another woman indirectly, Sundar brought his lips into play on his aunt's pussy, to give his tongue a rest. He nibbled at the cunt, and slobbered over the increasing drenched flesh. As Saroja manipulated her hips, Sundar's lips and tongue played on whatever came into focus. When it hit her clit, her nails dug into Sundar's head, hurting him. She held still, giving him the chance to play on her sensitive zones.

Sundar did. He tongued. He lapped. He stroked. He stabbed. And when the variety of exploratory strokes hit her, Saroja thrashed about. She moaned loudly, calling out to him using the endearment 'kanna' which means 'dear'. And then when she thrust and relaxed her hips the zone under his mouth changed. Now when he made those same moves, she stayed steady, enjoying, luxuriating and not calling out to him.

And he wanted her to call out to him in that desperate tone and urgency. He wanted her to want him so badly that she would abandon all talk of love and lust and just lose herself in him. 

So now he searched out that part of her which made her respond in that wild fashion. With his fingers he located the zone. His tongue snaked out to join his finger. He jabbed with his tongue to ascertain whether he had it right. Jerks and convulsions from his manni told him, yes, he had the target. "Yes, my boy," she murmured, her fingers stroking his hair.

That was all he wanted to hear. Sundar now propped himself on his elbows to bring focus to the job. He tongued her with vehemence. Saroja's thighs closed in on his head as she rapidly climbed to a high. This was unbearable for her and she pushed her hips forward and back in an involuntary movement. The fingers embedded in her cunt raked her as Sundar devoured his manni. 

She was now screaming his name and babbling incoherently as he concentrated his youthful energy on his new find. He did not know what it was and he didn't care. All he knew was Saroja manni was intensely focused on him and he was giving her something special, which she seemed to want with zeal. 

"Yes, you bastard! Fuck me with your tongue. Kudu da. Give. Give me pleasure. Do things that a woman and her nephew are not supposed to do. Vidathey! Don't spare me! Listen to nothing! Yes, yes, yes!" she ranted as the tongue serviced her to its fullest.

Sundar started to withdraw his fingers so that he could hold her sumptuous ass in both hands and eat her as if she was a large fruit. But Saroja grabbed his wrist and thrust his hand back in.

"No!" she screamed in a trembling voice. "In! In! In!" she hissed, ramming his fingers up her cunt repeatedly. "And don't stop the sucking and tonguing," she begged, hand on the back of his head urging him on.

As Suguna watched the older woman shamelessly take her pleasure from the younger man, the maid let her own fingers slip under her garment to sink into the bubbling cauldron of her own pleasure.

"Pannu da! (Do it.) Manni kaaha pannu! (Do it for your manni)" sighed Saroja, encouragingly to Sundar.. She pulled herself up briefly wanting to move back up the bed. In the process his face and fingers were out of her. But she was okay with that. She was preparing to lie back, spreading herself as best as she could. She could take her pleasure as fully as ever confident that the young man had cottoned on to the formula. As she sat up and wiggled backwards onto the centre of the bed, she leaned forward.

Holding his face in her hands, she kissed him on his lips with an open mouth and probing tongue. She tasted herself on him. She allowed herself to smear juices and saliva so that all inhibition came to an end.

Then quickly laying back she pressed his head down back between her legs. He sank his face back into her flesh between the thighs, his own mind dizzy with desire. The scents, aromas, the humidity and the heat of this encounter was dizzying. He had not previously realized that there was so much more to the act of sexual indulgence. He had yet to use his throbbing hard member but every other sense of his had been called into play. He had touched, smelt, tasted and felt her in every other way. Other than his cock, now pressed hard into the mattress below, the sheath pressed to his belly. He had no way of knowing that she did not plan on letting his cock go where his tongue was.

Sundar slid his fingers in and closed in on her waiting flesh with his mouth. Saroja held herself completely open. 

She groaned loudly as Sundar hit the right spots with now unerring accuracy. The boy was a quick learner, she thought to herself. By now he too must be wildly aroused and that would make it easy for her to finish him, if he hadn't already lost his seed in excitement.

Saroja's world narrowed down to the throbbing knob of flesh between her legs. Suddenly, Sundar was no body. Certainly not her nephew. There was nothing except a man whose hands and lips were serving her well. She goaded him on, thumping her hips alternately into his face and on the mattress below her.

The orgasm welled up within her and with a shriek she started to throw herself around.

"Aio! Amma! Yes! Stay there.... Yah.....yah.... yah.....yah.......!"yelped Saroja, holding his ears as she kept him as focused as possible on her bucking and thrashing cunt. She couldn't stop moving but it was critical she present him with an unmoving target.

Sundar slobbered through the squishy mess under his mouth, his aunt's secretions and his own saliva mixing to form a steaming wet pot.

With every shout of delight from her mistress, Suguna rammed her own clutch of fingers into her own pussy, shamelessly masturbating to relieve herself of intense arousal. One hand fucked while the other hand stroked the clit. She could not fully see what the two in the room were doing but she was desperately jealous of Saroja's intense pleasure.

Saroja heaved her body helplessly as pleasure wracked her system. Her breasts needed pinching and she gripped them hard, twisting and torturing the flesh and nipples even as she tossed and turned.

Sundar looked up and saw a different Saroja manni. Her head was thrashing about, her breasts were swollen and in her own hands, and her belly seemed pointed upward as the muscles there gathered in for the impending explosion.

"Sundara!" she exulted long and loud as the blinding orgasm ripped through her. She completely lost control of her body, thrashing around on the bed with force of maybe six couples fucking like animals at the same time. The bed squeaked and groaned much more than it ever had to her fucking Arvind on it. "Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" she screamed.

"See! See! Ah! Look! Look at your manni! Aio!" she sobbed with each convulsion. Her head banged from side to side as her legs gripped the head between them in a vise. Her fingers du into his scalp. 

"Suck me, you greedy young man!" she cried out, and then "Drink!" she announced to the bewildered Sundar. And then came the flood.

Saroja had been clenching her muscles as the orgasm pounded her. She felt nervous about the gush inside her. She thought she was losing control of her bladder. When the orgasm weakened her completely and Sundar continued his tonguing a dam burst forth.

That was when she shouted "Drink!" 

"Take! Drink! Suck! Soak yourself! Here! Here! Here!" she pleaded to him. Each exhortation was accompanied by large squirts of amber liquid. Sundar was drenched and gasped for breath. He was completely smothered by her outpourings. He held on for dear life, watching the woman on the bed behave like a slut consumed by desire.

Finally, when she could take no more, she pushed him away and turned around, pressing herself down to the mattress, hiding herself from him. Her ass, glistening with the juices which had poured from her, was full and curvaceous. She seemed delectable.

Saroja manni seemed wrapped in her own self, oblivious to the condition of her nephew. The young man, his cock slightly drooping from the steady leakage of precum, raised himself on his knees and stared at the prone form on the bed. She was quaking and shivering, but she was clinging to herself. Saroja's orgasm had lost its violent buffeting, but the earthquake in her body had hardly ceased. She pressed her thighs together, feeling tingling waves of shock rippling through her body.

Her own intensity was such that she couldn't even begin to think of Sundar. She couldn't take him even touching her in an innocuous place, leave alone her clit or pussy. But Sundar had hardly begun. All night on the train coming in he had fantasized about her. The first thing he had done that morning when he got a chance to freshen up was masturbate. And all morning he had waited to get Saroja to pleasure him. He thought she was vulnerable.

He leaned forward and sank his teeth playfully into the flesh of her buttock. 

Saroja cried out in an uncontrollable frisson of violent pleasure. She shuddered and convulsed and struggled to get onto her knees. Instead she collapsed and fell away from Sundar. She kept her legs tightly pursed as the pleasure from her own thighs being rubbed together extended her orgasm.

Sundar was kneeling, his cock regaining some of its volume from taking in the sultry sight of his aunt lying back, her bare breasts bouncing and jostling as she fell back.

He held his own cock and his slid up and down once or twice, with intent to move above her and try to get between her legs.

Saroja realized what he wanted. She reached out and grabbed and took a claim on the cock. Her hand joined his fist in stroking the cock. She attempted to commence to masturbate him. 

He slapped her hand aside and lay over her. His hands were on either side of her head, his cock was looming over her, dripping its juices on to her tummy and thighs. He placed his knee between her legs and tried to prise apart the legs so he could get at her.

From her vantage point Suguna could see the cock hang downward, visible to her from between his legs. What was wrong with Saroja Amma, she wondered. Her nephew had seen her completely in the nude and pleasured her. He was well hung too. She could just as well allow the young master to fill her. Why wouldn't she?

Saroja reached under and caught the cock in her hand. As Sundar pushed she pretended to be ready to guide him to her love nest. It caught Sundar off guard as she let him gain control of his cock. And then she pulled him down and let him lie with his chest on hers. Her hand however did not leave his cock.

She pumped him with vigor while holding him tight to her. She whispered into his ear, "See how difficult it is for you to accept the restraints I impose on you. All my loving cannot control you. What you want is hard desire, which neither you nor I can resist," she whispered into his ear.

"Let me release you from this lust. Not just today, but I will do this for you whenever you want," she promised. "But don't ask for what Gopi got as a matter of chance"

Holding him close, with an arm around his neck, Saroja fisted the hard cock mercilessly. She knew she would find him filling, satisfying and a virile stud. But she couldn't afford to pleasure herself anymore. The boy would not be controllable and she couldn't put herself in a position where she promised unlimited sex.

Suguna knew she would have taken quite the opposite decision. The young man was thick and long-ish. He would be fun and satisfying. AS Saroja fisted her nephew, Suguna fucked herself. Saroja blinked away tears as she realized she could not indulge herself with the young man any further without it getting too dangerous; he was getting emotional. Sundar felt tears welling up as he felt his aunt put up and impregnable barrier. His hot tears rolled down as his aunt's hand flew over the cock like a piston.

The tears touched Saroja's shoulder. And something inside her gave way.




The Guidance of Nephews Ch. 04



Sundar studied late into the night. He had slept in deep slumber right after the wild fucking session with his aunt. The eighteen year old had found it physically and emotionally draining. Saroja, his aunt, held him close and allowed him to sleep resting on her own satiated body. 

At times his mouth was on her breast. At other times his leg was thrown across her, with the unrelenting penis, which seemed to lose no hardness at all, remaining engorged even as Sundar slept. And at still other times, his leg was pressed between her legs, rubbing against her pussy, feeling the dry, coarse hair -- matted from the fluids having dried and caked her pubic hair into a tangle.

He was knocked out for a long time. They ate late. She never did cook. Saroja just hurriedly made some sandwiches all the while wondering about the maid Suguna. Suguna seemed to have left discreetly. When Saroja awoke, Sundar was still asleep, stretched out across her. Her eyes stole a glance downward and there was his ever present hardon. If she had known at that point that Suguna had already made her quiet exit, she would have might have chosen to mouth Sundar's cock.

She wanted to return his gift of an intense orgasm from oral sex with one gift of her own. She had always fantasized about waking up Arvind, her husband, by mouthing him from a passive, docile cock to an aroused wild state. But an opportunity had never really presented itself. Today it had, but it was with her young nephew with whom she wanted to draw a line and an end to the sexual trysts. Also, but she had to worry about Suguna outside. And so she let this opportunity slip by.

When she did step out she found the house completely quiet and discovered that she and her illicit young lover had been left to their own devices. Saroja had no way of knowing what Suguna might have seen or guessed. She did not have to contend with that just now. She didn't want to go and wake up the young lad. Waking up had its own lazy connotation which had more than once ended in sex with Arvind. She avoided that situation. Later, when Sundar came downstairs he had changed and was fully clothed. He gave his aunt an affectionate hug.

They had a very matter of fact conversation which veered around to the choices before them for lunch. And so it came to be that sandwiches were had. When Saroja asked her nephew to study, he promptly left for the study room and found that he was really able to get down to the work which had previously eluded him. He wanted Saroja manni to think well of him. He needed to remain in her good books if he was going to have her as he pleased. 

And yet, his mind and body would not forget that he was alone in the house with that luscious woman, that goddess. He was distracted by his arousal drifting in and out of a state of erection from time to time. He found it difficult to manage the tightness and finally decided to wear a lungi (a sarong-like garment worn around the waist). This allowed him to rub or stroke himself into a subdued state and get on with his studies. When Arvind uncle returned home from work, Sundar kept to his books with even greater fervor, not daring to look his uncle in the eye. Nor did he want to be seen in Saroja manni's presence lest his restless cock gave him away. He studied well and late into the night. 

When Saroja manni brought him a flask of coffee, she too was furtive and quick. Her night gown had buttons right down the front and the youngster could not help imagining if that was something his uncle would take advantage of. His eyes were fixated on those breasts which he had feasted on earlier in the day and his ears reddened. Before he realized it, Saroja had left the room.

There were no noises from their bedroom much to Sundar's relief. It was that very room and that very marital bed on which his aunt and he had made noisy love. And finally when he lay in bed he could not help imagining his aunt hovering above him, fucking down on him, her slippery cunt flowing down on to his cock. He moaned out her name with an aching longing as relief and sleep washed over him.

It was also to Saroja's relief that her husband was somewhat tired from his work day and did not reach out for her. She was quite sure she could not have managed it. The young nephew had given her quite a mauling and she would not have been able to take any thing more from her husband -- not that there was much of a challenge in his amorous attentions. He could barely hold himself. But she didn't want to look into his eyes or hold him tight when all she wanted to do was reminisce about the wild, long and animal afternoon. She did not want to end up comparing the better-endowed stud with her husband. It might provoke feelings of lust in her and that was no way to put an end to the horribly illicit affair. It wasn't incest -- but he was family, dammit.

These thoughts through the night did not allow Saroja to sleep too well. She tossed and turned all night. When she did sleep memories flooded back of his hands on her breasts and how she had been held and squeezed. Her nipples swelled and she had to calm herself back to sleep. She did not venture out of the bedroom as she might have on other sleepless nights. She did not want to encounter Sundar out there. There was no saying what the boy might do. She remembered his luscious erection -- the cum coated cock that would not be subdued. She had heard that this was how it was when a young man first lost his virginity. 

But there was also no saying anything about how she might herself react if accosted. Her pussy ached with unlocked desire for more. And at the same time she had to prevent an uncontrolled unleashing of illicit passions. When done to make the boy study better it was justifiable, she told herself. Anything else....... The thought of anything else reminded her how virile and stallion like the young man's riding of her had been. Or indeed of how satisfying it had been for her to ride him, while speared with his ever-hard cock. 

She allowed herself some gentle stimulation in search of some measure of relief somewhere during the relentless night. She actually wanted to violently thrust her fingers up her cunt; but she was afraid any rocking motion might wake her husband up. She needed violent, insistent pleasure. She compensated by pinching and twisting her nipple while remaining gentle while probing her pussy. It brought a mild tremor that provided relief. And with that she drifted into another of the innumerable short naps that made her night.

Saroja was therefore glad when dawn allowed her to go open the door for the maid and the milkman. While her day began early because she had hardly slept, Sundar slept late.

Suguna, the maid, kept to herself when she reached Saroja's house for her daily chores. She did not want to embarrass the lady of the house. The young master deserved his passions and Suguna was not one to be judgmental. Having seen young Sundar's endowments through the gaps in the door the previous day, her sympathies lay with her lady Saroja. Saroja amma could not be blamed for wanting the lusty lad. It was every woman's right to seek pleasure for herself wherever she could find it. If the men could, so could they!

Suguna noticed the dark circles under her mistress's eyes. She must have been kept awake by the young man. "Surely, he must have stamina and be insatiable as guys at their age are wont to be," she thought enviously. "But was Saroja amma indulging him all night long?" she wondered. That would take a lot of any woman, mused Suguna, thinking of how lucky Saroja amma was to have an in-house toyboy. "Poor woman. She must be bruised and aching from the handling by that young fellow's vigor. Today Saroja amma would surely ask for a massage from me," she thought. Her own pussy warmed at the thought of the young master wanting and sustaining himself for that long. Suguna found herself wondering if she should lend her lady a helping hand, lest the woman wear herself out completely!

Saroja assumed Suguna had heard or seen nothing the previous day. She had no other choice but to assume as such. She gave the maid the daily instructions in a routine fashion, not giving much scope for idle gossip. Saroja had no idea how the day would go. Soon, the boy would be up. Afternoons would be typically quiet and she knew she didn't want to get into bed with Sundar. But she didn't know anything about her own will power or what might happen if Sundar did make a move. She had of course, told the young man that this was a one-off. But being around the same house as him for several hours in the afternoon was going to be very volatile indeed. That she knew.

By mid-morning Arvind had left for work. He was pleased that his nephew had studied well into the night and allowed the youngster a late morning. Suguna wondered if the lady of the house might step out at some point in time. If she did, she and the young man would be alone at home. She would not mind that at all. 

On he previous night, the maid Suguna had hoped her husband would come home and fuck her. She liked his rough style, well toned body and the hard muscles and calloused hands. She wanted that roughness. Alas, he came home more or less drunk. He wanted to fuck her, which is what he wanted when drunk. But the libido was more in his mind. His body was soaked in alcohol and was not quite able to match his intended moves. Suguna had gone to sleep disappointed when her husband finished prematurely and fell into slumber.

She had been intensely turned on by the glimpses of her mistress's body on full display. She had been aroused to see the young masters' well endowed cock. She had masturbated as she watched and listened to the sounds of their fucking. Saroja amma had moaned, the boy had screamed and there was plenty of panting and groaning as they two pleasured each other. Fortunately, their noises drowned out her own stifled moan as she came -- it was totally unsatisfying but met the most immediate of her needs. At that time she had the night with her own husband to look forward to. 

But now on this morning -- the night after -- her own body screamed with unsatiated lust.

The manner in which she organized her house work that morning needs to be understood in this context. Otherwise, tidying up the guest room which Sundar was using was supposed to done later, after the young man was up and done with his bath. But Saroja amma was bustling about the house and showing no signs of leaving for one of her shopping expeditions. Nor had she woken up Sundar. 

Saroja amma herself looked bed-raggled and well-fucked. Suguna was consumed by curiosity to ascertain what the night might have been like. Had Saroja amma found time to join young Sundar in his bed again at night? Had the older woman and younger man fucked while Arvind Sir was asleep in the next room? If she looked so used, how was he feeling? So many questions and the young man held so much promise if her mistress's condition was anything to go by! Insatiable and lusty -- she imagined and fantasized herself into a desperate state. 

Finally, she figured Sundar's state and his room would tell her all she wanted to know. A bed sheet askew. A bra or panty lying tangled in the sheets. Stains on the bed cover. And perhaps she could get a good look at the youngster's stud-like body.

She pushed the door gently, hoping against hope that the door would not be locked. It was not locked. Sundar had left it unlatched so that his aunt could come visiting if she wanted. Saroja manni had not come visiting, but Sundar slept soundly, unlike the woman of his devotions. 

Suguna peered around the room and noticed that curtains were drawn and books were open on the study table. On the bed lay Sundar, covered by the sheets. His shoulders were bare and one arm was over the sheet, the other seemed to be under the sheet. He lay flat on his back. Perhaps he was bare under those sheets? Maybe they had fucked till he was drained? Maybe she was on top and that was why he on his back? Maybe she had taken him in several other ways and then allowed him to lie back? Maybe he had become a man in one short (or should that be long?) night and his aunt had lovingly covered him on her way out?

Suguna looked down the supine body as her eyes adjusted to the lighting of the room. And there, between his legs, was a tent pole, holding aloft the soft sheet. Suguna's heart leapt -- the boy was in a state of erection. The height of the tenting suggested impressive dimensions and her throat went dry. Her breathing became heavy as she felt her blouse constricting her. Her breasts, unrestrained by any bra for she wore none, pulsated in the restraining cotton of her blouse. Her nipples became erect and she became conscious of her the tightness in her chest. 

She moved to the foot of the bed and gently holding the sheet, pulled it down. It glided down his body, uncovering his chest, sparsely covered with hair. And as she pulled further, the edge of the sheet snagged on the peg formed by his cock. And when she tugged it slipped further, rewarding her with a clear view of his cock. His hand was encircled around the mast, the fingers limp as they had released the flesh after one more release. 

Had he taken her? Or not? Or had he taken her and then found the need to masturbate? And even then was still in lust? 

She crawled on the bed, unmindful that servants were not supposed to use furniture in Saroja amma's house. Her saree palloo slid from her shoulder and her cream colored blouse bulged under the weight and pressure of her breasts. With that, the cream color took on the tint of the brown mass of the breasts within. The material was thin and the nipples pushed and strained against it. Her armpits were damp with sweat from the day's exertions. 

She moved up the bed, eyes on the underside of the cock and the testicles that lay before her. It seemed caked with fluids that might well have spurted from within; or from Saroja amma. His hands were encircling the base of his cock and she wondered if it was going to hinder what she was inclined to do.

When her head was over his cock, she looked down and watched as it stayed erect, only slightly sagging under its own weight. She undid her hair with one hand allowing it to cascade down. The strands tickled and played with his thighs. They came down as a curtain on the act about to be carried out. Suguna opened her mouth, moist and wet with her saliva. Willingly and with enthusiasm her head moved down to cover the object of her immediate desire. She surprised herself with her willingness to engage in something her husband had to usually force her to do.

There was no hand behind her head forcing her down as her lips, mouth and throat opened and took in young master Sundar's unsuspecting cock.

She held her lips on the coarse mat of pubic hair, opening her throat by relaxing her muscles, giving him all the space he needed to be accommodated. She normalized her breathing, inhaling and exhaling routinely. Her salivary glands were active in this position and they poured, wetting him. She allowed the dried coat of fluids to moisten so she could smell, taste and assess what Sundar might have been through.

She headed off a whiff of nausea at the stale smell of his semen by quickly bobbing her head up and down and letting her lips form a quick pleasure-giving "O" around the boy's now-throbbing meat. Her saliva poured down and provided much needed wetness that allowed her to use her lips and mouth like a love-channel.

"Unh!" he moaned as his hips involuntarily moved and his hand touched her cheek. He ringed the base of his penis in his drowsy state, offering himself to the woman mouthing him. There was only one woman in his body, mind and soul. He had wanted her for months now, had her at a feast yesterday and had left the door open for her. His other hand held her head and he fucked the mouth over his cock with a gusto. 

Suguna let her hand join his in ringing his cock. She let her fingers tangle with his. She fisted the cock as she raised her head up. Her fist twisted and twirled the pillar of flesh thrilling him. And when her lips had reached the top of his cockhead, she pursed her lips to press down on the knot of tissue there. She ran her lips on the round head, knowing that somewhere there, the young master would feel a particular sensation. 

He did. He wanted to reward her, for her to join in the pleasure. As the mists of sleep cleared from his mind, he found himself in a daze of pleasure. And he was doing nothing. The woman was doing it all and he was under the mistaken impression that it was his Saroja manni. He had to give her something in return. His Goddess could not go unattended.

Suguna felt young Sundar's toes touch the inside of her ankle and trace the path upward to the inside of her thigh. She wiggled her legs open wider to allow him all the space he needed. Sundar pressed his big toe into her bushy triangle, rubbing and searching, looking for a gap to press his digit into. 

"Mmm!" mumbled Suguna to encourage the young man in his endeavors. Sundar's hands roamed her head and neck, feeling her hot skin and luxuriating in that contact, even as he encouraged her to mouth him. Her hands reached upwards and her fingers roamed his chest, rubbing his nipples and his young hard body. Yes! She was going to partake of this feast soon! Suguna exulted in her mind. Her strategy was paying off, and she was glad she had crept in. Saroja amma was too self-absorbed today and Suguna felt she could resurface before her absence was detected.

As his fingers played with the woman's head, neck and back, Sundar realized he had not felt any bra straps on the back. Her breasts were then easy to fondle, surely? His hands reached under and he felt the full, heavy breasts and weighed the sagging mountains of flesh. He found the nipples atop them and thumbed them, thrilling at their long, grape-like countenance. Maybe he had not paid enough attention to them yesterday. Today......

"Aah!" he yelped when suddenly she removed her lips and her fist closed in on his much harder cock and pumped him. She did that with incessant vigor and Sundar felt he was going to explode in her face any second now. And he didn't want to! He wanted to sink into her cunt, have her under him, crush her and pound her and fill her and own her. He wanted to be her man, on top, dominant.

But she seemed stronger than yesterday. She held him down and alternated fist with mouth with a quickness that drove him mad. And just when he felt his control was going to be lost, she pressed down on the cockhead and held still. She held still for so long that he felt a painful receding of his release. He pinched both her nipples and arched his back trying to fuck her fist or her mouth. He was not in control of his body, for what he really wanted was to beat back the cumming and avoid release. But his body had a life all its own.

She shuffled forward, her saree unraveling as she moved ahead, her hair stroking his body. When she was over him, her lips streaked with his juices, he noticed it was Suguna the maid, not Saroja his manni (technically sister; but he was actually her nephew.) She leaned forward and her coarse pubic hair prickled on his tender cock skin as she stroked his lunging monster with her triangle. 

She was expert. Her lip- and hand-play on his cock had conveyed that much. As she moved down she allowed his cock to paint her breasts with its leaking semen. Her blouse was stained, so was her torso and all the way down to the vale between her legs she let his cock anoint her. Her eyes were dark and deep and sensuous. And when she came atop him, the wide lotus shaped eyes looked deep into his lust-laden eyes. 

The breasts loomed in his face and he saw the dark brown circles under the thin veil of the cream colored fabric. Her nipples were large and turgid and seemed designed to feed. Her breasts were larger and wiggled and bounced under their own weight, as much as they did due to her lithe movements. He wanted them in his hand and mouth. She read his eyes and the bobbing in his throat: the boy was thirsty. She pulled at her blouse, successfully prising apart some of the hooks. Other hooks just snapped as the flesh spilled out to feed him. She was remarkably beautiful, her chocolate skin glistening with mild perspiration. She had a big round dot on her forehead and her taali, the necklace made of small black beads and a gold locket signifying her married status swung as she heaved her curvaceous body around.




The Guidance of Nephews Ch. 04



Sundar's middle class sensibilities and his up-bringing which had not allowed him to look at women from the working classes with such lust-laden eyes, abandoned him. All he could see was a beautiful woman, sensuous and sexy, lips wide, eyes dancing with desire, and massive mammaries which had cow-teats for nipples. 

He gratefully buried his face in her breasts, babbling and tonguing and lashing at the feeding mounds. She reached below and between them to grab his bouncing cock. She held it in her fist and gave it a few thrusts as he lapped and ate at her breasts like they were mounds of cream. She groaned her approval and unmindful of his state took her own pleasure. That proved to be a mistake as her lust trumped her expertise. She pumped him once too many and the young man lost his seed to her fingers and fist. He spurted, cumming in force as she squeezed an orgasm out of him. The pumping was so well timed that his first shot was propelled forward. A hot blast of semen splashed on her torso. The powerful release caused him to bite and maul her tits in his ecstasy.

Suguna yelped in pain and pleasure as his teeth sank into her flesh and sucked hard. Nipples, the tender and soothing udders, were lashed and pulled- hard and rough. She knew she had not taken care to head off his orgasm but now she made sure his pleasure was full by expertly manipulating and twisting her hands and fingers on the pulsating flesh. Her hands were coated with white, thick cum and so was her body, where gobs of cum lay like pearl drops. Her breasts and nipples were raw with his rough handling and the pleasure she felt was intense. 

As the cock subsided, she pumped with each spew. She gave him his full pleasure. Then, she waddled further up, her breasts jiggling and her hips were now on top of his head. She propped herself up on one knee opening her cunt to him. Her saree was unraveled from the toe of the bed and was half draping her. With the other hand she pulled his head into her recesses and spread her cunt lips on his nose and his lips.

Sundar smelt the sweaty pubes of the working class woman and the acrid pungent aromas. She ground down on him and he involuntarily stuck his tongue out, as trained by his aunt. Suguna moved her body around, now facing his cock. As she rested her body on her knees her mouth hovered above his cock, while her cunt closed in on his mouth. Her mouth closed in on the wet, clammy cock, which, once in her mouth surprised her by showing signs of life: it bobbed and lurched as she sucked on it. The cock seemed to tremble. As she lipped the knob of flesh, Sundar screamed into her cunt, the pleasure he was feeling was incredible.

He greedily gobbled at the offered cunt to repay this amazing woman in kind. She was a full blooded woman who was ravaging his body and giving him amazing pleasure. His orgasm had been intense and seemed to boil up from the end of his spine and he had cum so hard that the semen had splattered on her and splashed back on him. And now here she was sucking his flesh into her mouth and pumping it.

He laid into her cunt with a vigor, hands instinctively grabbing her buttocks. He buried his face in her lapping at the cunt, searching for the clit which his aunt had taught him about just 24 hours earlier. 

The probing tongue brought immense pleasure to Suguna. She raised her head off his cock to implore him to do more. "Young master! Young master! Do me! Suck me!" she begged him as she went back to her own task.

She needed to mouth him to a full erection and he was amazing her with his youthful response. The cock was halfway there as she sucked him in and pushed him out, goading him to a new arousal.

It was at this point that Saroja chose to check on her nephew. He had slept enough, better to rouse him awake. She didn't plan on going near his bed, lest he grab her into his arms. But when she pushed the door, she found it latched. She pushed once more, and the latch slid under the weight of gravity and she heard the metal bolt fall back as the door opened. 

If he had locked the door, he must have wanted privacy, surmised Saroja. She gently let the door swing slightly ajar to see if her nephew was awake. May be he was uncovered and nude. Maybe he was masturbating. 

But all she saw was a tangle of arms and legs. No heads. Only arms and legs. The sumptuous rump had to be a woman, curves and all. And around her ass were hands, presumably her nephew's. The woman's head was bobbing up and down between the man's legs. Her hands were stretched out, above her head and she was holding his ankles, as if spreading his legs apart so that she could suck his cock unhindered. She saw Suguna's massive mounds of flesh pressed on Sundar's torso, their sides bulging outward. 

Her eyes drank in the sight of a couple in the classic 69 embrace, which someone has classically described as "a double-backed beast of pleasure."

Jealousy, anger, fury, relief and arousal all coursed through Saroja's body in quick succession. She had taught him to love a woman but not for him to pleasure someone else! And yet, here was Suguna wailing out and her ass shuddering and shaking as he clearly ate her to divine pleasure. She was angry that a servant would take such liberties when there were so many restrictions on their movements. But she also knew that this encounter would liberate Sundar fully from his obsession with his aunt; this caused relief and jealousy in equal measure.

The servant maid propped herself up so she could fuck down on the young man's face. Yet she tried to lean forward and keep his cock captured. However, Sundar had the better of her, since he had only just cum. The woman threw her head back and pressed her hips down on his face, fucking him liberally, shamelessly taking her pleasure. She was facing Saroja who was at the door. As Suguna threw her head back, her breasts thrust upward, jutting up and out, towards Saroja, as if on offer. 

Saroja was transfixed at the sight of the sumptuous breasts with their luscious nipples jutting out. The woman -- and this was indeed the first time Suguna was recognizing her as a woman -- was an awesome sight. Her hair was flouncing, in parts stuck to her own damp flesh. Her kumkum was smeared on her forehead, having dabbed the precum liberally oozing from Sundar's massive erection. And the broad chest pinched into a somewhat narrow waist before flaring into wide curvy hips. She reminded Suguna of the classical depiction of a South Indian beauty in temple carvings.

Those wide hips were opened out and rested on a saddle formed by Sundar's face. The nose, his chin and his tongue played without restrained on the inner and intimate recesses of the servant maid's flesh. Orgasms hit her in rapid succession as the young master, initiated just the previous day under the tutelage of his upper-class aunt worked hard at the woman open above him. With each wave of her orgasm, Suguna squealed; thrust herself down towards Sundar's lips and outward towards in the direction of a stunned Saroja.

The servant of the house was being eaten, her cunt sucked and tongued. She was not allowed to use house furniture. Her cutlery, cups and plates were separate for her use. And here she was on the bed (not even a chair or sofa!), atop her favorite nephew, hips spread wide, cunt on his lips. And her own large wide mouth was on his cock, her cheek and chest and body laved with his juices. 

Sundar enjoyed her hands on his ankles and the feeling of being held. As her cunt spat its cum at him, in a very male release, he enjoyed taking her release and giving her pleasure. His years of being starved of a woman had suddenly ended with him consuming, literally, two women in the space of 24 hours. And each of them was a revelation.

If Saroja manni was his Madonna, Suguna was the ultimate whore. She was a servant; she could be used in the most shameless pursuit of pleasure. She had none of the restraints that Saroja manni involved. He felt lucky and his body felt alive. 

Saroja Manni was his Goddess and he was glad she was the one to initiate him. 

But the way he was using Suguna, fucking her mouth and allowing his semen to splash on her body -- this was uniquely different. There were so many things he could not do with his manni; he could do with this woman. He could demand of her and use her. He could be bold and aggressive. Suguna could tend to the most intimate of his needs and he didn't have to face her on family occasions.

And the way he wanted to fuck and dominate while fucking was not something he could do with delicate and divine Saroja. That kind of bestial sexuality would have to be with someone like Suguna. And in this most intimate of a man-woman coupling, his middle-class upbringing told him that to use a servant maid as a slut was appropriate. The hypocrisy of his thoughts eluded him because of his conditioning; but also because the woman who was taking and giving pleasure made her next move on his cock.

As the fleshy woman sank on him, she took back his cock in her mouth, toying with it, circling it and enjoying its springy fullness. Oh my! She could use this stud. May be she shouldn't make such a big issue of a wage raise. She had previously been thinking of asking for one, and changing employment if it was not forthcoming. But right now, she could think of nothing that would compensate for this hard young body which she had got addicted to in the space of one short morning.

Sundar started thrusting hard and insistently upward, hitting her throat more than once. The signal was clear. The young master needed her cunt.

She rolled off. Sundar laid a pillow and motioned her to lie with her ass resting on this pillow, offering up her cunt for him to plunder. Suguna's head lolled backward off the foot of the bed and Sundar loomed over her. His hips were poised over the target. He propped himself up and holding his reddened member, guided it to her lips. He got no help from Suguna and he looked up to see why as he moved forward with his hips. And he saw why.

From where she was lying, Suguna was looking up at the figure of her lady of the house standing at the door to the room. Saroja Manni was staring at the woman lying open and agape under her nephew. Suguna's body was already stained with his cum and her blouse lay open. Large ponderous breasts topped with langoustine nipples betrayed marks of nails and teeth. Her hair lay open backward, luxurious and inviting. The woman had been mauled and it appeared he had not yet speared her with his cock. She was slick with her own perspiration; or was it Sundar's sweat mixed with hers? She was flushed and glowing and radiant in her sexual arousal. Suguna was truly beautiful and sensuously inviting to Saroja's eyes, aroused as she herself was.

The spearing happened as Sundar fell forward, in spite of himself, in spite of him having spotted his manni and in spite of him hoping to stop mid stride. 

But he did not stop. Sheer momentum carried him forward and his cock spread open Suguna's already agape cunt. Man sank into woman and Suguna almost reflexively raised her legs and locked them around his hips. 

"Ah!" she moaned loudly with a hiss, her eyes locked on those of her mistress.

"Saroja Manni!" shuddered and sobbed Sundar incongruously, as he felt the rewarding grip of Suguna's cunt on his cock. She wiggled her hips and he felt the cunt muscles rippling. The woman knew a trick or two. "Agh!" he gagged as his cock took over his responses. He immediately wanted more and holding her hips he pounded back into the grasping flesh. Her hands were holding him by his rib-cage urging him on.

"Kudungo! Give me!" she wailed as she ignored the stunned lady at the door. In that instant Suguna knew Saroja was unable to act. She pulled at the boy, her heels hammering his ass and her body beating against his.

"Take! Bitch!" bellowed Sundar, using language he could not have with his aunt as he gave vent to his sense of conquest. "Here! Here! Here! You slut!" he grunted as he fucked her with more than justifiable vigor. The bed quaked and Suguna was reduced to wails of uncontrolled desire and ache as she felt her pelvic bones stressed by his wild thrusting. It pushed her more and more off the bed and she came to rest her shoulders on the floor. And still Sundar continued pounding her. He had just cum a few minutes ago. He wanted to cum now, but it took this brutal fucking of the woman under him to try provoke a new orgasm.

Suguna felt good. She felt possessed. She was being pulverized and taken into submission in her mistress's presence. Her cunt felt open and wet, not raw. Raw was how he was fucking her and how animal he was feeling. The lack of control in the boy was her personal triumph. She was happy he could not control himself.

She threw herself back at him. She pinched his nipples. She dug her nails into him. Finally, when Sundar lifted one leg over his shoulder and rammed her cunt as if it was target practice, she went into multiple orgasms. Her head lolled without control and saliva ran from the corner of her mouth. She threw her head from side to side as orgasms spilled out of her cunt and her being. She was now a rag doll in a storm and she allowed herself to be plundered.

Sundar was holding by her hips watching the breasts lurch with his every thrust. He placed the palm of one hand on her soft tummy. The fingers clutched the lower belly, but the thumb snaked downward. Sundar slid the thumb between their sweaty bodies and crossed the soaked pubic hair. This thumb found slick wet flesh and the steaming mound of Suguna's clit. As he fucked her cunt deep, his thumb toyed her sensitive outer lips and the prized bud on top.

He was somewhat thick and fairly long; the propped up hips meant he was hitting her in her womb. The ravaged clit was shooting bolts of pleasure to her untended breasts. As the multiple waves of pleasure reached a converging crescendo, Suguna grabbed her own breasts. She squeezed the mounds pulling the long nipples with a brutal energy that one can only risk with one's own self. She alone could know how much of the pain was pleasure in disguise. She grunted each time she squeezed pleasure out of her breasts and nipples, arching upward to conquer his ravaging cock.

But she could not tame him. He was in full control of her body. He pounded and thrust and rammed into her. Sweat poured from his face onto his own body and driblets fell on her quivering form. "Amma!" screamed Suguna, holding his arms now, then back to her own breasts, then the edge of the mattress in desperation as she searched for something to beat against as the orgasms lashed her soul.

It did nothing for Sundar's hard cock which was unmoved towards any orgasm. His pleasure was just from the pummeling and the conquest of this woman under him. Her wild, uncontrolled orgasm was his pleasure. He looked up at his Saroja manni whose eyes were on him. He looked at her and down at Suguna, as if to seek his aunt's approval or opinion of his handling of the woman. When he looked up at her again, he felt his aunt was in heat, fidgeting, and was deprived of him and their pleasure. This time when he looked back and forth, it seemed as if he was beseeching his aunt, showing her that this was the wild pleasure he could deliver to her too.

Saroja watched with a mix of apprehension and pride. Her boy was now a full grown stud! But he seemed to be killing Suguna, who was sobbing and wailing. She dug into her own flesh and tortured her nipples. She screamed and hollered. Her eyes rolled in her head as she shuddered and twisted against his cock. It was slick with her juices and so was this thumb. He rammed both cunt and clit till her body gave up.

His thrusting had brought both of them to the edge of the bed. Sundar was holding her body up by the hips, both to prevent her from sliding and to fuck her hard. Suddenly, she could take no more. Her flesh was saturated with pleasure and now felt tender. She pushed him away and losing the anchoring pinion of his cock, she rolled away, down to the floor, with part of the mattress under her.

Suguna was drained beyond her own expectation and this in spite of being a hardworking energetic woman. She curled in a corner, using her saree, now fully unraveled to cover her body in at least some parts. She tucked a bunch of the garment between her legs to soak up the swamp of fluids drenching her triangle. She could not move, even though she was just a foot or so from her where her mistress was standing. The cold floor felt marvelous on her hot, soaked skin. She lay there, neither caring nor bothering about the consequences of what had just transpired between her and the young master of the house. If it came to that, she knew her lady's secrets too.

While she allowed herself to drift to a nap, Suguna could not have known that she need not have worried. The aunt was about to fill her nephew's unfulfilled desire. As Sundar rolled and layback with his reddened cock waving in the air angrily, glistening with sweat, juices and all, Saroja realized the boy's finishing was only a physical act that was leftover. But she felt that if that finishing was to be done by her, she could complete the emotional circle between them and set the terms of reference for the future.

It was with these thoughts of achieving closure that Saroja manni moved towards the young nephew laid out on the bed. When it came to tutoring and taking the dominant role, it would be her. Not that slut. "She deserved the animal fucking she got, the bitch!" thought Saroja, somewhat resentful at the woman's intense orgasms. But that woman had been denied the fullness of pleasure which comes from making the partner lose control. And the young boy, her nephew would lose that with her.

She prodded the prone woman on the floor with her feet. Suguna staggered to her feet and stood in front of Saroja, valiantly trying to cover her breasts and cunt with the stretch of garment at her disposal.

"Amma...." Suguna started as is trying to explain herself.

"Tomorrow," said Saroja she ordered the maid out of the house. Once she had seen the maid off, Saroja went back to the sexual battlefield. Sundar lay on his back, his member a wee bit flaccid, but still red, slick and wet.

Methodically, she unwound her saree as she stepped forward to fulfill the role she had chosen for herself in Sundar's life.



The Guidance of Nephews Ch. 05



Sundar had drifted into a nap as his aunt Saroja saw Suguna out. "The house work is getting affected," thought Saroja to herself as she eyed the luxurious swaying ass of the servant maid Suguna. In these last 12 hours life had taken an unreal turn. Nothing seemed to matter more than her trysts with her nephew in the aftermath of her initial indiscretions. Her husband, the house, the kitchen and everything else, including the servant maid were a distraction from her sexual management of her 20 year-old nephew. 

Manipulating the young man's obsession with her had gotten transformed into sexual engrossment on her own part. And with both of them engrossed in each other, sex and the heavy aroma of sex permeated everything; till this maid had decided to take a fill of the stud. It was inevitable that Saroja would have discovered them. She had let the maid finish thinking that this would show Sundar that lust and love were different things. 

And then she ushered the maid out. Saroja had watched the woman coax her breasts into her blouse. A few of the hooks were no good anymore, and flesh --reddened and sweating from the pounding the young man had given her -- peeped out.

As she glimpsed the flesh, Saroja found herself licking her lips involuntarily. She recalled her nephew sucking on those mammaries- that was the only word for them. The 20 year old boy had demonstrated how well he could handle a woman if he was shorn of the emotional veneer accompanying his lust for his aunt. And that was exactly what Saroja had wanted so that her nephew would overcome the distraction of sex and start concentrating on his studies. 

But after watching her nephew plunder the maid, jealousy had reared its head; she found herself wishing that the nephew had done all those things with her rather than with the maid. 

The sex with the aunt had been reverential and almost a ritualistic initiation of the virgin boy. The sex with the maid had been animal, rough and an unleashing of his new-found familiarity with sex.

Suddenly, the aunt who had all along wanted the boy to recognize lust as distinct from love and lose his obsession for her, wanted him to make her the object of his every sexual move. She wanted him to identify and isolate lust; but also use her as an object of his lust, be animal with her, and come to terms with his sexuality -- all with her. Not with any other woman, least of all a servant. 

That woman would have to be shown her place, but that was later. Right now, Sundar needed to be taught the last lesson in this chapter preparing him for life. And to make him concentrate on his studies rather than on sexual obsession. 

When she returned to the room, there he was, on his back, dozing. The cock, down from its high was in repose, sagging under its own weight. It was slick, it was reddened and it had not yet spilled its seed. Sundar had cum in Suguna's (the maid's) hand in the first flush of their encounter. She had awakened him with her mouth and he had lost control in her fisting later. That allowed him to fuck hard and furiously without cumming, which is what made the session animal and wild. It was that wildness which Saroja sought as she stepped forward towards Sundar, slowly unraveling her saree.

All previous encounters had been in states of undress but never fully unclothed. Now she thirsted for contact: chest on chest, hands intertwined, legs intertwined, and mouths able to kiss any flesh anywhere at will. Previously, also, there was a sense of urgency in finding ways to reveal her pussy to his cock. Now the urgency was to take revenge for his having gone to a maid for further sexual exposure. 

The boy had to be made to be animal with her and exposing herself fully was the route she chose. There should be no angle at which they could not take each other. Everything was open and up, in what she wanted to be the concluding session of fucking. 

Sundar had to leave for his parent's home after this, she was sure. She found herself worrying about the plain, raw, womanly lust in her taking control of her complete senses. What else could explain watching and allowing the maid to continue fucking Sundar? What else could explain the calm manner in which she asked the maid to leave for the day? What else could explain her willingness to postpone everything and immediately disrobe to fuck her nephew?

The saree slid to the floor and the petticoat dropped as well. Saroja pulled off her blouse and undid and dropped her bra to the floor as well. Naked, body burning with desire and shivering with excitement at the thought of taking him so fully. She moved over the prone body. She noticed the residue from the maid's cunt in semi-dry state on his cock. Much as she would have loved to arouse Sundar by mouthing him, she felt inhibited by the coating of the lower class woman's body fluid. 

She wondered then, about how she had licked her lips at the sight of that other woman's bosom. Was she ready to accept Suguna as a woman? And yet here, when she had to decide on mouthing Sundar she balked at that same decision?

She caressed her own breasts and tugged at her nipples as her dizzy levels of desire allowed her to think of things she might not have 24 hours earlier. Attraction to a woman? That too of a lower social class? But Suguna's breasts looked delicious and her Sundar had tasted of them. The maid's sweat was like an attractive glazing applied to her flesh. And Sundar had smeared himself on her and vice versa.

Saroja shuddered as her body answered her own caresses with mild tremors. The aunt straddled the body of her nephew who was still dozing. She leaned down and held the cock in her fingers. Gently she slid her hand down, pulling back the foreskin, encouraging the cock to regain volume. She was rewarded with a pulse of life as it jerked once. 

It brought Sundar out of his slumber and through the initial haze he saw atop him another woman, breasts bare, hair flowing, a bright smear of kumkum which had run in the sweaty heat and lust written all over the face. She was focused downward, her eyes on the single point of attention -- his cock.

He looked down and watched as the smallish hand pumped and thumb ran over his dry cockhead. His skin had folded back over the head and was stuck there. The head was exposed and dried out. Even as the woman fisted him, the skin would not budge. Sundar started, apprehensive that he would get hurt. But the woman knew more; the next stroke brought a bead of precum to form on the tip of his cock. She expertly took it on the ball of her thumb and rubbed it on the head. Sundar shuddered and his hands grabbed the mess of sheets below him.

He closed his eyes. He felt immensely refreshed and ready to take on this woman. He had not yet cum and he might have slept for hours -- it was actually only a few minutes. He opened his eyes ready fuck as his hips thrust involuntarily. His eyes focused on the face of the woman above him, who was still expertly and softly coaxing his cock to its full state of readiness. 

It was his Goddess, not the whore. And she was handling him so beautifully that he was massively aroused. The cock swelled impressively quickly. Sundar wanted to fuck and fuck hard. But Saroja manni was not a whore.

He allowed himself to sag back. He could not take her on. She would have to take him. He allowed his aggression to recede. He was not going to maul someone who he worshipped. He eyed the swinging breasts and started to notice differences between the two women. He wondered about sucking and biting her like he had been with Suguna. But he lay supine, keeping his thoughts to himself. All his reflections were captured in the enormous engorgement of the pillar of flesh in his aunt's hands.

Saroja manni desperately wanted this specimen embedded in herself. She had watched Suguna and Sundar in a wild, grabbing '69' and more, and her own arousal had reached a feverish pitch. It needed a quenching. She could sink down on this monster and ride him to a new heaven. But she wanted him to feel her, to push her, test her, pound her and hammer her to an orgasm. She had labored hard on him the previous night. Today she wanted to lie back and take it all. She wanted to be a whore and get fucked mindlessly, as a young stud should. She didn't want worshipful lovemaking. She wanted to be where Suguna had been.

The boy smiled up at his aunt as his hands caressed her forearms gently. Saroja stared down in sexual fury at the boy's cock, his body, his chest and his face, wanting the animal in him out on display. He cupped her breasts gently, weighing them, comparison once again coming to his mind, when all she wanted was for him to twist and hurt her nipples. 

He leaned up and gently kissed the cool flesh, yet to get all heated up from exertion, when she wanted him to bite and make marks. Marks that she should have to hide from her husband Arvind. He maneuvered his thigh between her legs grazing her pussy, feeling her hair, the heat and the latent moisture, when what she needed was his fingers invading her cruelly.

She looked down, her face hot and flushed. In her mind she was replaying the scene of torrid sex which she had just witnessed. Suguna's ass was beating up and down as she smeared her cunt on Sundar's face, while the maid's own mouth was loaded with his cock. This face which was smiling up at Saroja manni had eaten the maid's cunt, fucked, sucked and bitten and marked that woman like his own. The smile on his face irritated her. Saroja wanted to see lust for her writ large on his face.

"Eppadi da? How? How could you let her?" asked Saroja her eyes filling up and her lips quivering as she felt the release of her pent up emotions.

"I was asleep. When I awoke she was already here. I thought it was you and when I realized it was not it was already late," he stammered, blurting out the whole truth in a bid to mollify his aunt.

"Oru velakari. A servant maid! Her pussy on your lips! Just because she was gobbling away at your cock you lost your sense?" she demanded, tears rolling down her hot cheek.

Sundar was stunned and didn't know how to respond. She looked beautiful than ever in her tears; her breasts were heaving and he wanted to touch, hold and comfort her. Yes, of course he had seen his aunt watching them fuck, but he had no idea about from when she was watching. In fact, where was the time for reflection? Every thing had happened in the last hour.

"And you were so open, demanding and aggressive with her! How could you be like that with her?" continued the distraught aunt.

"She is only a maid!" replied Sundar by way of justification.

"So?" countered Saroja. She leaned forward pinning his arms down her breasts swinging and lunging just in front of his face. He watched them hungrily, wishing this conversation would die down and he could feast on her body. She must have such intentions of letting him indulge, why else would she be nude, completely nude?

"So I don't have to be careful what I say and do," said Sundar his hands moving to her back, stroking her in a comforting way.

"And you have to watch yourself with me, your manni?" she asked, lowering her body and slapping his face with her breasts, as if to hurt him.

Sundar was silent. He had nothing to say to his aunt. It infuriated her.

She slapped him hard. It shocked him. She slapped him again, harder. Saroja sat back, astride on his knees. His entire body, including his cock, was at his mercy. The rage made her red and she looked completely ravishing. But she was now hurting him. As her body heaved and showed off its contours, Sundar felt vulnerable. 

He laughed weakly, only to infuriate her further. In frustration Saroja leaned forward and dug her nails into his chest. She dug in, and dragged her hands down partly unmindful of how badly she might hurt him. She wanted him to hurt; she wanted him to feel the pain she felt as seeing Sundar being so free with that bitch. 

Her hair fell forward and she glared at him through the veil of hair on her pull back. She now slid a little further down, sitting on his ankles. Sundar yelped in pain as the nails drew red lines down his chest. When he caught his aunt's eye he was somewhat scared. She looked violent and out of control. And here he was completely nude, pinned under her. If she used her hands on his cock the way she had raked his body...

Sundar shuddered and an in act of self --defense pulled his feet up into a crouch, out from under her body.

"Dey! Bayama?" she taunted him. (Hey! Are you afraid). "I didn't see any of this caution when you were stuffing yourself into her mouth? Let me at that!" hissed Saroja as she lunged forward to grab his cock in her fist.

The boy was aghast at this avatar of his aunt. She was systematically dissecting his encounter with Suguna and asking for an account of every liberty he had taken with her. (Or was it liberties she had taken with him?)

Reflexively he sat up and grabbing her arms, as she lunged he used her own momentum to push her onto the bed. Saroja fell back with her legs spread and in the air. Her breasts jiggled as the volume of flesh tossed back on her chest. In a flash Sundar sought to reverse positions and try pin his manni under him. Saroja crossed her legs defensively and covered her breasts with her hands. 

She swiveled to the left, to get off the bed, loudly announcing, "I am leaving!"

Sundar hadn't expected that, and he was not about to let his aunt leave in an upset mood. He tried to throw himself on her to pin her down. But Saroja had already propped herself up on her elbows and knees and moved her right leg down to the floor. 

There she was, ass towards him, legs spread wide, and one leg down on the floor spreading open her pussy. Sundar did not know that he had a target in front of him. The novice could only visualize grabbing his aunt to hold her down. He proceeded to do just that and moved close to his dear Saroja manni and threw his arms around her hips to pin or at the very least, weigh her down.

Nature took over as only nature can. Sundar had no clue that a woman could be taken from behind. Saroja manni could not possibly have contrived a situation where she could instruct her nephew on positions. She was some where between bringing the youngster back on track with his studies and combating her own surge in jealousy on finding the boy fucking the maid like a bitch.

No, being taken was definitely not on either of their minds as the swollen hanging member prodded the nether folds of Saroja's cunt. She felt the hot, erect flesh slap the intimate, innermost inside of her thigh. She gasped. Sundar felt the prickly brush of his aunt's hair, lush, unkempt and unshaven as it is with Indian women. Inexplicably his hips humped at the woman under him.

He grazed her cunt repeatedly, his cock parallel to the lips it was attempting to pierce. As he rubbed against her, Saroja threw her head back luxuriating in the sensations. This was animal. He was behind her. She was kneeling like a bitch. Yes! This was Sundar about to lose control and take her like she deserved! Saroja rocked, closing her thighs to try trap the cock between her thighs.

"Mannni don't!" he pleaded, referring to her attempt to leave the bed.

She mistook it as a reference to the doggy-fuck. She quickly inserted a hand below herself and between their bodies. Thumb and index-finger grabbed at the pointlessly thrusting flesh. Saroja dropped her torso, angling her womb and the tunnel leading up to it, upward at the boy's cock. 

Holding the member gingerly at the mouth of her waiting cunt, Saroja thrust back, capturing her prize.

"Ah!" screamed her victim. She had him where she wanted him. She shivered as the cock touched her in new places and she marveled that the peculiar curvature of Sundar's cock was grazing her g-spot so closely. "It is the angle," she thought.

Delicately she drew herself forward, preparing to fuck back hard. She was being careful that the cock on which her quivering flesh seemed to depend for its very survival should not leave her sheath. She felt the head roll around the entrance and slowed down. Even as she prepared to fuck back, Sundar reacted.

He had felt so snug ensconced in his aunt's upturned cunt. His stomach had caressed the sumptuous cheeks of her ass. Before this, every part of his body had felt her flesh. But not his stomach and not this way. He had enjoyed the curve of her ass smashed against his somewhat flat groin; flat except for the massive protuberance deeply embedded in its natural resting place.

And now she had moved forward, sliding her pussy off his rock hard cock. This was maddening. When Suguna the maid had fisted him, the excitement was too much and he had spurted on her. Then when he had fucked her, he found he couldn't cum all that easily. He had humped her like a beast, ravaging her, pummeling her and wearing her out with uncounted orgasms -- but he still had not crossed the peak of his own pleasure into the uncontrolled rush of a full orgasm. But now, the sight of his aunt's curvaceous body in front of him once again lifted him to a pinnacle.

At last, the relief of an orgasm seemed to be near for his achingly hard cock which had little respite from an erection all morning. It was erect when Suguna the maid entered his bedroom while he was still asleep. It still was erect while his aunt was below him, ass and womb thrust up towards him.

He rammed the erection down his unsuspecting aunt's bubbling cauldron. The woman had one knee on the bed and the other leg down on the floor. Her right hand gripped the timber of the side of the cot while her left hand slipped. She felt her entire body being pushed along the bed as her nephew hammered his cock home.

She had no time to rebalance as the young man pulled back and fucked her hard again. Saroja's cheek slid along the bed and her shoulder pushed forward, angling her head. Her lips were open with gasps of pleasure and as her face turned sideways, Sundar caught a glimpse of his aunt's profile; he felt reassured by the apparent pleasure on her face and her open lips.

Saroja clutched at the sheet, her fist tight; but it did nothing for her, she needed to squeeze a mass. Desperately she reached for the end of the mattress and squeezed the coir foam in her fist. The tight grip told Sundar everything he was looking for. His Goddess was in the throes of pleasure. This position seemed so whorish and exploitative of the woman that he had briefly worried if she would disapprove.

He need not have worried and any lingering doubts were taken care of by Saroja's hollering.

"Fuck me like your own bitch!" she wept. "Take me! Treat me also like a pleasure toy! I am yours too, to use, abuse, fuck and plunder" she wailed.

Sundar barely heard her. His eyes were closed. The exactitude of the ring of her cuntlips on his cock was thrilling. In this position, he could feel the "o" of her cunt run on his pillar like a ring. And when that "o" -- which at the opening must be more like a sphere- ran over his cockhead, it was like a piston rotating in a socket. His world was on that ring of flesh which raked his cock along its entire length as he fucked forward and she fucked back. 

His hands pressed into the flesh of her hips, slowly nails raked her ass causing Saroja to shudder. His thumbs rotated the sumptuous ass, massaging his cock further between her cuntlips. 

She held on for all she was worth as her nephew finally treated her the way she had seen him treat the maid; she was finally his bitch.

She laughed her pleasure as his mindless fucking caused butterfly-wing-like waves in her womb. She came and she thrashed, completely out of control with nothing to provide her stability. She could well have been a quivering mass of orgasmic flesh speared on him and in throes of death. Her hands dug, grabbed, squeezed, pinched and held on. Nothing could prevent the grinding of her shoulder, her cheek and her breasts on the somewhat coarser fabric of the mattress as the sheets were completely displaced. Her soft womanly skin bruised. A slow drip of her viscous fluids on to the mattress below marked the completed meltdown of her insides. She came and she flowed as she came. The cock plugged her and blocked her fluids inside her, squishing out as the pistoning allowed some to seep. It matted her hair and when the pubic hair was saturated, a steady drip ensued. She watched as she looked under: it was her own juice and she knew that. 




The Guidance of Nephews Ch. 05



She could see nothing else. Either her eyes were shut as she traveled to a personal paradise, or nothing else was in her line of sight. She could see the boy's legs just behind her own legs but not too much, and nothing more. 

She was reddened, bruised and her knees grazed. Sundar's massaging and teasing her ass-flesh was all pleasure. But she would only later realize, when bathing, and when hot water ran on her flesh that he too had drawn lines on her.

"Don't spare me. Do me. Plunder me well." she implored him in the throes of her orgasm. ("Vidade da! Pannu! Nalla tei!")

"Yes, take! You bitch!" whispered Sundar, almost afraid his aunt would hear him. He was enjoying dominating his aunt and he had dug his nails into her like she had. And he wanted to call her a bitch even as they fucked like dogs.

At last, the vigor, the aggression and the language he had used with that bitch. Saroja laughed. 

"Yes, I am your bitch! Fuck me like one! Look at me spread open and kneeling for you! I am a slut! A whore! Take me like you took that bitch!" she screamed as pleasured addled her brain. For two days now lust had dominated her. Every non-sexual detail of her life seemed to recede into the distance. There was her constant hunger; his body. His virginity and her body. And nothing else.

"Yes, manni!" he agreed, calling her by her respectful title even as he said the words she had desperately wanted to hear him use since finding him with the maid. "You are my slut, whore, bitch, Goddess, everything. Just don't be upset with me?" he pleaded.

With the boy conquered, Saroja's body heaved in a final string of orgasmic spasms. All possible orgasms for the moment had been wrung out of her. When the dripping slowed, Saroja paused to regain her breath. With pleasure receding, she realized her neck was aching from the awkward angle. Her right knee was complaining for the shock absorbing work it had been subjected to.

Saroja reflected on what a wondrous thing sexual lust was; it was an analgesic for all pain. It transcended hunger for food. Social status didn't matter. It trivialized the worries of life. And it made a woman risk her family, her respect, her everything -- Vatsyayan had himself said so in the Kama Sutra -- for the pleasure that lust brought.

"Iru da! Wait!" she called to her obedient trainee.

She needed to make him cum and for that she needed stability. She wanted to fuck back and subdue him completely. 

As his aunt moved to the left, Sundar felt his cock slipping out. "No!" he gasped in panic.

She smiled and slowed down. She moved one bit -- and he waddled and followed her, slowly riding in and out to assure himself that he was within the reach of that spherical hollow just past her pussy lips. She waited for him and then moved some more. And then he moved. And then the reassurance fuck. And so on till she was stable in the middle of the bed, both knees firm and her legs spread.

She turned her head as far back as she could to catch the look on his face as she fucked back. It was difficult. The only glimpse she got was of a face grimacing in unbearable pleasure. First, she was slow. Then as the alignment was set, a bit faster. Then still faster. And then only on his cockhead. Only that position where the cockhead behaved like a rod in the eye of a socket, for a socket was how her upturned cunt felt to him.

She rotated her hips clockwise. Then fucked, taking him in fully. Then she rotated anti-clockwise. Then fucked him, taking him in fully again. A thrust, a grind, a thrust, a grind.

Even for the boy who had just come a little over an hour ago, who had failed to cum by fucking that slut-maid, the treatment proved too much.

Saroja allowed herself a triumphant smile as she heard Sundar groan "Manni!" loudly, his fingers digging into her ass-flesh.

"You know how to fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkk!" he gagged as she took him over the cliff, paying her the compliment she had ached for. And then, "like a whore!" he concluded. Saroja felt her face go red as she realized that one more line had been crossed between her and her nephew. Would things ever be the same? She would know only when she looked him in the eye.

Right now that was not possible. She was fucking back at her nephew like the whore he had called her.

She continued the provocative treatment of his cock, her own cunt pulsating once more, as if it had not orgasmed at all.

"Manni," he gasped.

"Yes?" she asked, rotating her hips one way.

"Don't.....ah....stoppppp!" he said. That was needless- she wasn't about to.

She gently rode all the way back taking in his full cock.

"Manni," he quaked.

"Yes?" she coaxed him. "Sollu da. Tell me."

"I" he stammered as she rotated, "am" he managed when she fucked, "going to" he quavered when she rotated, "cummmmmmmmmmmmmm!" he wailed.

He had tried to stay perfectly still, providing his aunt a perfect target for manipulation.

She had taken him there without making him wait a moment too long. She was having her own quiet orgasm at the same time. She was quiet by comparison, but she was there with him.

When his orgasm took over his body he started to shudder and thrust. His instincts took over as his cock moved randomly, without pleasure-enhancing strokes or any particular pattern.

He emptied into her and Saroja felt the surge and the squishy saturation. Her pubic hair dripped again, this time it was his cum washing down her own soaking. The combined dripping widened the spot on the mattress below them. 

His pounding was incessant as he came and she found her hips pushed down, her knees losing their grip. She spread her legs wide so that her dear nephew would not slip out. She was now akimbo like a frog, legs wide and under him. His cock was embedded and the grateful boy sobbed out aloud, "Yesssssssssss!" as his cock received its full share of caresses even as it spewed out the semen. 

She slid down to the bed and he was on top of her. The cock escaped from its lair, but it seemed perfectly timed. Free from restrictions it seemed to spew more and he felt himself fully letting loose. The jerking member was once again parallel to her soaked, wide and raw cuntlips. He leaned forward and sucked in the flesh of her shoulder, and somewhere in his pleasure sank his teeth into her.

The jerks and thrusts slowed and at the same time the unrelenting erection, receded. Soon it was a small jut of flesh squished between their bodies resting along the crack of he buttocks, staining her. 

As pleasure retreated she felt him weighing her down. Once again she wondered how she had accepted that entire weight ramming down on her; but now found the supine weight unmanageable. Lust receded. Sleep came. He slid down by her side, his leg thrown over her ass. He felt the inside of his thigh smear to the wetness on her back.

And they slept once again.........

She tousled his hair as he slept like the baby he was. She too napped, yes- it was inevitable after the energy-sapping sexual release. But memories of her wild swings from 'responsible aunt' to 'jealous sexual mentor' kept her from drifting into deep sleep.

Her fingers ran over his chest, where she had dug her nails. "How is he going to explain these marks to his mother," she wondered. Should she expect a call from her cousin, asking?

But she felt her own bruises and wondered how she was going to explain them to her husband. She would have to avoid him tonight. But that alone would not do as she later discovered. There were his teeth marks on her shoulder, bruised knees and breasts marked with lovebites.

"I need to organize his departure back to his parent's tonight itself," she said to herself. "Would Suguna and Sundar fuck again if he stayed another night?" she wondered as she drifted off into another nap. She awoke still later wondering if Sundar would share with the others his discovery and conquests, prompting a stream of visits from the other two...

Surely it was well past lunchtime and for the second day in a row she found herself in bed with her nephew not having bothered with either cooking or housework. This had to stop. She got out of bed, leaving Sundar in his deep slumber.

When she phoned her husband Arvind asking him to book tickets for Sundar to leave, he was puzzled. But he bought her line that the boy had realized his folly and wanted to rush back and catch up on his classes.

Her body ached in places she had not known to exist as went about doing the minimum around the house, letting Sundar sleep till he awoke on his own. The young man found his aunt packing his bag and ran to her and put his around her from behind her. 

"You are leaving tonight," she stated simply, neither turning nor interrupting her work.

"Who said so?" he asked, crestfallen.

"Your uncle," replied his aunt. "In fact, there he is" she announced as Arvind pulled up in the drive way.

She turned around and reached up to his face and patted his cheek. "Study well," she said to him, looking him deep in the eyes before moving on. 

The young man staggered back to his room to gather his thoughts and things, keen to do both away from his uncle's gaze.



The Guidance of Nephews Ch. 06



She had never intended the sex -- never mind how intense and liberating it had felt - to linger on. Her nephew, now 19, had lost his concentration and appetite for studies with his mind suffused with thoughts of the warm embrace of Saroja Manni. He remembered her hands on his cock and lusted for more than just handling. His brother had been luckier with her and he could not get over that.

With his scores falling and the boy's parents looking to Saroja and her husband to help their kids do well in life, Saroja felt responsible for bringing back focus into the youngster's academic pursuits.

That one goal dominated her mind when she took him to bed with her and fucked him; he should get in decent hours of study.

Despite all the reasoning behind her actions she fucked him to her own satisfaction as much as to his.

The release was therapeutic to him. His animal taking of her as he overcame the initial awe helped her convince him that he was sex and lust crazed rather than in love with his aunt as he imagined.

That was to be the end of that. The young man repaid her by immediately sitting down with his books and putting in

That would have been the end of that had it not been for Suguna the maid. The nephew Sundar's hardon was unrelenting. While he slumbered on through a late morning after the all nighter with his aunt, his cock stood as if waiting for the next opportunity.

It was a matter of time before Suguna came to his room to clean up. She had spied and guessed the illicit activity between the saucy and buxom Saroja and her virile virgin nephew. When she entered the room and found Sundar with his cock at full mast, she took him.

It helped Saroja in the larger mission of showing Sundar the distinction between love and lust. It helped Saroja show Sundar that sex could not become a distraction that destroyed his life and career. If fucking the maid could get it out of his system that was all for the good.

But it also unleashed sexual jealousy in her. When she chanced upon maid being fucked with a vigor and abandon she felt Sundar had been timid with her. He had not been -- but now she felt that way. The language, the aggression and the dominance he showed were things she considered him incapable of.

Her loins told her she wanted him to be all that with her too. And the intimacy with the maid, of lower class was appalling. He ate her and sipped from her cunt, whereas in the house they did not even serve her in the same teacups.

Before the boy left for his parents, Saroja took him again, this time asking to fuck like a slut, a whore and a bitch. No reverence, no coyness. If he could fuck her like a raging stud, he better ravage her too.

And then Sundar left as she had planned for him to.

When the maid came by the next morning it was a bit odd for Saroja. At first, the maid had spotted her with her nephew. And then she had seen the maid and her nephew in the sixty-nine position. She had practically kicked her out of the house that morning. Suguna had lain drained and supine on the floor. Saroja treated her the way she ought to have been. She prodded the woman with her feet and asked her to leave. But that was not before the woman's large chocolate colored breasts made their impression on Saroja. She shook her head to shrug off unacceptable thoughts of lustful attraction.

She turned the fire in her loins to her own kind in her nephew. 

And now this morning, she did not know how to face the maid. Nor did the maid have a clue on how to handle her return to work.

Both women kept it professional. Saroja went about her housework. As soon as Suguna arrived she was directed to her chores. Vessels to be scrubbed, clothes to be washed and rooms to be cleaned.

Suguna was all deference. That was how it was on the day after the maid had taken liberties on the previous day. The liberties were typically a day off, a loan taken or wanting to come in late or leave early.

Today the liberty taken the previous day had been to fuck the young master of the house even as the lady of the house had been fucking him. It was just not done. Neither the aunt nephew thing, not the maid young master episode. But both had happened.

Suguna was extra careful and efficient today. She had been fearful of losing her job. The knowledge she possessed of Saroja engaging in forbidden sex was not a weapon she could use. It was knowledge but she could not apply it to saving herself. The only thing was to be completely supplicant.

And there was always one thing that maids could extend as favors to their mistresses. It was the gentle massage and leg pressing on afternoons. In the equation between maid and mistress the leg pressing was a game. If the maid felt well disposed or had the need to curry favor she would oblige. But for the Indian housewife, the need for the leg pressing was routine.

Today, Suguna planned on offering her services to mend fences with Saroja. The lady had seemed especially brusque and offended when she asked her to leave the previous day. Suguna had been in a state of undress and had hurried out. It was 'making up' day. 

She parted the curtain to Saroja's bedroom and peered in. "Ma, I am done for the day," she called out.

"Hmm," said Saroja drowsily.

"I have a bit of free time today,' said Suguna, entering the room. She didn't actually have the time. She had told her husband to come by and pick her up. They planned to get a loan and start a taxi service. He was too much of a drunkard and preferred odd jobs. She was more ambitious than that. In fact, cozying up to Saroja was part of that project. They would need all the support and referrals they could get. 

"Do you want me to press your legs for you?" asked Suguna, realizing that Saroja was keeping quiet. Normally it was Saroja who would be reduced to pleading for the massage -- today it was quite the opposite.

Saroja did not want to say yes, but she did need the rubdown. The excesses of the previous day, especially when she had straddled her nephew was now telling. Muscles were aching. Things that she had seen Suguna do prove quite strenuous physically. In the heat of the sexual tryst she didn't feel it. But now it did.

Saroja rubbed her ankles together and grunted "Yah!"

Suguna settled down on one edge of the bed -- the only circumstance in which she was permitted to sit down on house furniture. Her being sprawled on the bed, legs wide apart while Sundar was eating and plundering had been a gross transgression of house etiquette.

She rubbed the ankles gently. Saroja's drowsiness deepened as she relaxed. These sessions were normally punctuated by gossip and Suguna found the silence uncomfortable.

"Are you angry with me?" she asked softly. 

"Why should I be?" asked Saroja, a little irritated. 

Suguna said nothing in reply. What could she say? She continued rubbing the ankle and calf muscles. Suguna noticed for the first time that Saroja's skin was soft and delicate compared to her own rough and weather beaten body. Her hand drifted upward as she wondered that if the ankles were this soft how much softer would she be further up?

"Here," said Saroja, indicating her hip. The boy had held her legs apart at an impossibly wide angle. It had seemed marvelous at the time that he would treat her with the authority of ownership. It was only during the night that the pain had surface. (That night she had stayed as far on her side of the bed as possible, away from her husband. She was too raw to take him after Sundar's plundering.)

Suguna let her hand slide further up almost as if to reach for the hip from within Saroja's saree. Then she quickly pulled the saree and petticoat down and hoisting herself up on her knees pressed down with her palms on Saroja's hip. Leaning over the lady's body, she could see her breasts rising and falling in the rhythm of her breath. 

Boys love breasts and young Sundar must have feasted on them she thought. Her own body stirred at the thought of how he had mauled Suguna's breasts.

As if on cue, Saroja broke her silence.

"You seem to have lots of experience with this sort of thing," she asked. 

"Oh yes, everyone likes a massage. But I do more readily for you than others. I tend to avoid them," replied Suguna.

"Not that! There must be young fellows in almost every house you work at," said Saroja pointedly. 

Suguna held her breath. She took her body weight off the palms of her hands. Her hands became softer and were rubbing her hip rather than massaging it. 

"Not really experience. You know how it is with these young men," she said.

"I wouldn't!" snapped Saroja.

"But you do,' insisted Suguna her fingers going softer on Saroja. She meant it in a general sort of way, as if to say that the lady of the house knew more about anything and everything than the servant would know.

"I don't!" snapped Saroja again.

"Come on, Ma! You really are angry with me, aren't you?" she said pouting. She slid her hands all the way down the side of Saroja's body, rubbing her from hip to ankle and back again.

"Why would I be?" said Saroja.

"Because of the young master," said Suguna her hands back on the hips.

"Nonsense!" said Saroja.

"That age is like that," explained Suguna. "They are curious. They want to know. They want to touch."

"And you let them?" hissed Saroja, suddenly angry. "It is not quite like that," replied Suguna, her hands wandering onto Saroja's belly.

"Then what is it like?" asked Saroja.

"These guys are very bold nowadays. And if we are not downright rude, they are persistent too," said Suguna, her mind going to the time the young man had boldly masturbated under the sheets even as she went about sweeping the room.

"Well if you are clear then it is quite easy for you to be firm, isn't it?" said Saroja.

"Yes, but we don't take it all that seriously. And then I am a woman too," explained Suguna. Her hands continued to roam Saroja's hip, seeming less like massage strokes and more like caresses. Saroja did not notice or did not care. Whichever, Suguna was enjoying the soft warmth of the housewife's body.

"Oh, I noticed that it is no big deal for your type. A woman must keep herself in check," said Saroja, trying to take the moral high ground

"Did you?" asked Suguna, stung to the quick.

"Mine is a different case," said Saroja, wishing she had not provided that opening to the maid.

"In these matters we are all the same ma," said Suguna, her hand briefly sliding under the hem of Saroja's petticoat. Saroja had on such afternoons in the past asked the maid to unclasp her bra or loosen the petticoat. Such requests had no intimate overtones. It was one more menial task for the maid to do.

That was on other days. Today, Suguna suggested she loosen the petticoat and without waiting for the okay from her mistress, she went ahead and undid the cord. The saree tucked into the petticoat came undone and was no longer properly wound around Saroja. 

Suguna pushed the petticoat over the curve of Saroja's hip and applied weight and pressure in the zone so that she did not send any overt sexual signal; even though her fingers had subtly started savoring the housewife's body.

"What matters?" asked Saroja.

"In sex. In men. In fucking," she said matter of factly, now focusing intently and only on the massage.

"Shush!" admonished Saroja.

"What ma! That is how it is! What is there to hide? What do you think my husband is interested in when he comes home, drunk or not?" she laughed.

"Does that mean you have to be so shameless about it" asked Saroja.

"What else shall I say," sighed Suguna. "It is not the first time and it is not the last time," she explained.

"First or last of what?" asked Saroja. The voyeur in her was wide awake. The pussy stirred at the thought of a series of young men wanting to lose their virginity and be animal.

"A man propositions me," she said. 

"But you can say no, isn't it?" asked Saroja.

"But we don't always want to say no!" said Suguna with a giggle. "Maybe it is the fish we eat!"

"Chee!" exclaimed Saroja the vegetarian.

"You didn't say no," exclaimed Suguna thinking that Saroja was referring to the sex.

"That was different," insisted Saroja.

"Hmm!" sighed Suguna. "These middle class housewives and their complex minds!" she thought to herself. 

"It is all the same flesh," she said aloud, her hand slipping to the curve of Saroja's tummy and stroking her. "And if it flesh it reacts the same way." Unthinkingly her hand slipped lower and her fingers brushed Saroja's pubic hair. Saroja caught her hand and exclaimed "Aye!"

But there was a softness to her grip. She was not pushing her away. Suguna rubbed her lower belly in large circles taking care not to venture into the vale between Saroja's legs.

Saroja was fairly unraveled now. She lay back enjoying the fingers stroking her.

"Only those women that have a problem with their husbands think like that," said Saroja.

"No!" replied Suguna.

"What? You have a perfectly happy life with him?" she asked.

"I don't know about perfect or happy. But if he fucked me the previous night then I have no need or stamina to oblige any of the young masters," she confessed with a candor typical of her social class in such matters. The surge in Saroja's pussy was immediate. "The man must be a bull," she thought. She squirmed as she thought of how far away she had sent the nephew and of how tame her own husband was. Her breasts felt unreasonably confined.

"Undo my bra," she said. 

Suguna proceeded to do just that, letting her fingers caress Saroja's back. She reached out for Saroja's midriff and pulled the wire brace hugging the curve of the breast loose. Saroja undid the last two buttons of the blouse. All of this was standard procedure between them; but for the brief caress today.

Today -- also -- as she leaned over Saroja to do what was needed, Saroja caught herself looking at Suguna's breasts. The mounds of chocolate colored flesh were squeezed into the blouse with on bra. That was usual. Today the pallo of her saree was not fully covering them. Today, the maid's nipples were full and turgid. 

Saroja looked up at Suguna taking her eyes off the breasts to see if she had been noticed. Suguna looked her mistress deep in the eye -- yes, she had been noticed gazing at those breasts.

"So you do oblige young masters and that is what you did with Sundar," said Saroja matter-of-factly.

"We," she said referring to her social class, "don't think that much. It was the thing to do at that moment. He was aroused and I was there. That's all. It might be different for you."

"Pure pleasure is it?" asked Saroja out of curiosity. She wiggled her hips tucking into her bed as Suguna's hands lazily stroked her hips and torso.

"Wasn't it for you?" countered Suguna, mischief in her voice. She once again strayed to her mistress's pubic hair. She lingered a little longer to see if there was any objection. There was not going to be any objection. Saroja had already become slick at the mental image of a series of young man doing the things she had seen Sundar do to Suguna. That slickness was several minutes ago. Several minutes later it now threatened to become a flow.

"I did it out of a sense of duty," said Saroja. There it was, out in the open. The maid had heard all the noises of aunt and nephew fucking. She had taken sneak peeks. 

"Maybe. But was there no pleasure?" asked Suguna softly remembering the moaning sounds she had heard from this very woman. Her fingers drifted even lower between the legs. She used the base of her palm to press down on the pubis. Saroja felt the pressure and she shivered with her first frisson of pleasure. At least Suguna had not invaded her with her fingers. Anything from massaging was okay. But no allowing that woman to touch her intimate parts... 

"It was just incidental," she whispered. Her body was fully relaxed now. She luxuriated in the drowsy yet aroused state. Had she been too hasty in sending off that boy? She could have done with more.

"But it was there!" proclaimed Suguna, with a mix of triumph and arousal and the change in the tone of the conversation.

"Keep quiet!" said Saroja rubbing her legs together and fidgeting. She was unconvincing in asking the maid to shut up. 

"No need to talk," said Suguna covering the Saroja's bare crotch with her entire hand. 

Saroja gasped and opened her eyes to look into Suguna's eyes. Before she could protest, Suguna slid her middle finger into the bubbling pit between Saroja's legs. She may have reacted if it felt like an invasion. Suguna's finger, though rough skinned, was hardly thick enough to make an impact on Saroja's gaping wide, soaking wet cunt.

And then she wiggled the finger, feeling the walls of Suguna's pussy. Saroja gripped Suguna's hand involuntarily. She was now lying on her back, one knee up and Suguna was kneeling beside her.

"Ayyo!" exclaimed Saroja. She felt the fever of desire soaring in her body. "Sugunaaah! I need a man dear." 

Suguna giggled nervously. She was in uncharted territory here. The lady would either be hers -- or she would lose her job. She slid in a second finger -- her forefinger and proceeded to gently fuck her mistress's cunt. Her other hand went to Saroja's forehead to try and soothe her.

With what her other hand was doing, soothing was not about to happen.

"It is not enough. I wish I had kept that boy," murmured Saroja, her hips moving rhythmically as she gave in to pleasure. 

"But that would not be duty. Any way Sir will be home in the evening, no?" said Suguna mischievously. She was playing mind games with Saroja. If fucking the boy was pleasure was not duty then her own guilt in the matter was reduced. By referring to Saroja's husband Arvind she was reminding her that such matters were to be pursued with the husband after all. But she also increased the vigor with which she fucked with her fingers to try and help the poor lady out.

The reference to duty and husband brought Saroja back to reality and she opened her eyes. She pushed away the arm she had been gripping and said, "Ok, that is enough." 

Suguna withdrew her fingers and asked, "What is enough? This?" and she held up her fingers smeared with Saroja's juices. 

"Or this?" she asked, this time ramming back her fingers up the open, spread wide cunt.

"Aaah!" hissed Saroja. She sucked in air through her teeth as pleasure seared her. But she needed something fuller, something more complete. Her pleasure gave way to despair as she felt the need for a full and proper fuck. The young man would have willingly stayed and willingly met her carnal needs. Was it a false sense of restraint that made her ask him to leave she wondered. And how she needed him now! And how far away she had sent him! The distance was more to do with changed circumstance than physical distance between the two houses.

Even as Suguna coaxed a physical frisson of pleasure from her, Saroja felt a sadness wash over her at these thoughts. There was a certain incongruity in the brief thrash of her hips and the tears that escaped the corner of her eyes. She stifled a sob. 

The difference between the sob and the frisson was not lost on Suguna. 

"Amma!" she whispered softly, lifting Saroja's head onto her lap and gently rocking her head. It had a dual effect of comforting her like a baby but also of helping her slide her fingers in and out rhythmically. The fingers were hopelessly wet and their effectiveness in pleasuring her diminished rapidly. Suguna shifted the focus to joining of the lips at the top of the pussy where she knew a zone of pleasure existed -- at least for herself.

She rubbed with rapid strokes there hoping to quickly discover the pleasure zone before the grief of separation overcame her mistress. She was successful as she felt Saroja go into a series of shudders.




The Guidance of Nephews Ch. 06



"Yes, dear, yes!" she smiled through her tears as relief swept her. She buried her face in Suguna's all encompassing bosom. Those large, chocolatey breasts that she stared at, which she had seen Sundar mauling and feasting on, her face was buried in them. 

Suguna's fingers slid back into the even more messy channel now, brining Saroja off the intermediate high. Saroja's eyes opened and drank in the sight of the substantial mammary in her face. There, clearly outlined and straining against the thin fabric of Suguna's blouse, was a large erect, repressed teat. One of which her Sundar had sucked and milked. She opened her mouth and bit on it gently with her teeth.

Suguna jumped in the pain. Quickly the pain receded as Saroja soaked the fabric with her saliva and used her lips as she had used the teeth before. Suguna grunted with pleasure. Hugging the woman to her and pressing her head to the breast in encouragement, she rocked her in her arms. Saroja's legs were spread wide now affording Suguna all the space she needed to fuck her.

Suguna dried her fingers and stuffed some clothing up Saroja to dry her for more action. In sweeping strokes she went from the pleasure zone at the mouth all the way to the depth of her womb as far as fingers would go. And when Saroja starting sucking at her breast and pleasuring the maid, she responded by adding a third finger. It helped. But the effect lasted only a couple of strokes.

Saroja whimpered her desire for more. Suguna tried by spreading out the three fingers to create a feeling of the pussy being stretched. She also needed to feel Saroja's lips on her breasts directly. She briefly withdrew her hands from Saroja. Her head fall back on Suguna's lap and her hips jerked uselessly. She was in complete disarray.

Suguna, for the second time in as many days, ripped a few hooks in her haste to open out her breasts to her mistress. Quickly she pulled Saroja's head back to her breast and just as urgently crammed her fingers.

"It is just not enough!" sobbed Saroja. 

"I need a man!" she wept. 

Suguna felt desperate. The lips on her nipples and flesh were exciting but it might not continue if she did not find a way to extend Saroja's pleasure. She thought of going down with her head between Saroja's legs but her breasts demanded Saroja's lips. At least for now.

As an alternative, she used the thumb to stroke the clit and let two fingers wiggle in the pussy. There was a sudden sharp yelp from Saroja. Suguna thought she had made progress and was about to repeat her stroke when Saroja tried to push her away. Suguna held her tight, thinking she needed someone to thrash against in pleasure. But Saroja screamed, "Look there!"

Suguna turned. There was a man leaning against the wall opposite the bedroom door. He sported a large, black, thick cock and was stroking himself, open-mouthed. Suguna recognized the man and the look on his face.

It was her husband Murugesh who had come to pick her up. The look on his face was his impending orgasm.

Saroja sat up and pulled the saree down to her ankles and crossed her arms across her chest and went into a huddle, sitting in a crouch on the bed. Suguna made no such moves, her breasts hung proud and magnificent, and the blouse apart. She looked ravishing beautiful, with her sweat making her skin shine, the soaked armpits, the hair in disarray and the swabs of Saroja amma's saliva on her breasts. 

"Who is he?" asked Saroja her voice tight and seething. It was anger at her own embarrassment. It was anger at her own vulnerability. It was anger at her indulging -- both taking and giving. And it was anger at being found like this.

Her heights of desire receded somewhat; but the need was there. Was some of this irritation at the interruption.

"Don't stop!" commanded the person at the door. He continued to look at the women and continued to stroke himself -- harder and harder. 

"You stop," said Suguna to him laughingly. She turned to Saroja. "He is my husband," she said. "The man who if he fucks me I have no stamina for any young master at any house." As she said this she noticed Saroja staring intently, albeit through the slit of her eyes at the specimen of manhood on proud display.

"Yes, I should stop," he said abruptly and let go of his cock. The way it hung under its weight and bobbed with strength was not lost on Saroja. Her fascination grew and she remained transfixed. "Why let it go waste," he said stepping forward.

As he walked towards them his lungi (waist cloth) slid to the floor. With only his vest the cock was on fully display. It bobbed and reared with his every step. Saroja noticed the superb blend of weight and strength. It seemed heavy but in arousal the gravity was effectively countered. What a fuck it must provide! No wonder Suguna had no stamina or desire for anything afterward. That was the kind of satiation Saroja needed at this time. The pool between her legs poured forth at the thought.

"Your husband," she murmured. 

"Yes. But take what you need," replied Suguna simply. That statement said it all. She had a need. And she could take her fill.

The husband was on the bed in a jiffy and the wife gently pulled at Saroja's shoulders and laid her back. As she fell back her hair spread back on the bed. She looked lovely too. Murugesh drank in the sight. A luscious, curvaceous woman, full breasts, plump lips, wide accepting hips, genteel and polished; but today, for the first time in his life, a high class lady, his for the asking. And his wife, normally protesting at his womanizing ways, was helping him!

She was actually helping Saroja. And herself. She too had needs. They had been aroused. She too had a desire to bed someone of a higher social status. It could have been a man but she had seen their bodies; lotus eaters all. For the male she preferred her own -- strong, rough and powerful. But for a woman Saroja was so perfect. And she knew Murugesh to have enough for both of them. How many nights she had endured a second or a third fuck when she could actually take no more...

"No. Go Away," said Saroja. She was unconvincing. There was no strength in her voice. It was just a statement for the record. Murugesh loomed over her. He leaked and streaks of precum strung out to the bed below. He looked at her for a few moments. Then he reached for her blouse and pulled it open with a loud rip. The bra, previously unhooked by Suguna hung uselessly. He pulled it and threw it away. Saroja's chest heaved in the tension of the moment accentuating her attractiveness. Her taali (chain worn around the neck with a talisman) indicating her married status was the only incongruent thing. But it did give Murugesh a sense of conquest.

Saroja's breasts, heavy and round, were large mounds of flesh falling back on their own weight. The nipples topping them were erect from the ministrations of Suguna and right now threatened to burst from the surge of excitement from Murugesh's aggression. 

"Be gentle," said Suguna, a bit apprehensive for she knew how he could be.

In direct contrast to that instruction, Murugesh slung one leg of Saroja's over his shoulder leaving her open and agape to his assault.

Saroja braced herself. It was inevitable. Not that she was in a state to evade it. It just seemed incongruous in the overall. But at this moment, the man looming over her was who she needed. She would attend to other things when their time came. Right now, the time was to fuck.

Or more precisely, to be fucked. She reached out and grabbed Suguna's arm. Suguna made soothing, clucking sounds. Murugesh bunched up the flow of garments above Saroja's waist. Hold himself in his left hand he positioned his cock for the fuck.

"Take it easy," she comforted her mistress. 

It was more like a slam, a bludgeon. Saroja's warm pussy spread out effortlessly to take in Murugesh. He was wider than her natural width, but the stretch was a pleasurable snug fit. It was like they were made for each other. There was no pain for her; just an intense feeling of being filled up. It was what she had been craving. Not from a man below her social status. On the other hand, she had just wanted a man; in some ways any man.

As he reached the full extent of how much she was going to accommodate -- or how deep he was going to reach, the force caused the woman below him to heave. The breasts were thrown and they jiggled attractively. His right hand held her ankle -- his left reached for the breast, holding it tightly. The nipple of that breast received its relief when he pinched it between thumb and forefinger.

Saroja grunted, "Unhhh!"

"I said gently" remonstrated Suguna urgently. But she went unheeded as Murugesh pulled back and slammed back. A sob escaped Saroja's lips. The strength of his fuck was something she had not experienced before. The vigor, yes -- when her nephews had been deflowered they were excitable. The sense of experience with a woman, yes -- with her husband when he expertly played her. But this combination of expertise and strength -- never before. And that was before taking the heft of the cock into account.

Murugesh sawed in and out of her in rapid but complete cycles for about half a dozen times. Saroja made mewling and sobbing noises which alarmed Suguna. The maid knew her husband to be a violent love-maker at times. She had to assault him back with her own pelvic movements to bring the equation to balance. She repeatedly told Murugesh to slow down. Then she noticed Saroja.

Saroja amma's head was gently moving from side to side. "No!" she seemed to say. Her mouth was slightly agape and there was a smile of wonderment on her face. He was marvelous. Suddenly who he was became more irrelevant than ever. If Suguna had any doubts about her mistress's feelings at this hard, swift fuck, Saroja's watering eyes completed the story. 

A teardrop flowed down the side of her face. The sobs were relief. And the tears this time, unlike the regret at letting Sundar go, were of joy. Of relief and of pleasure.

Murugesh paused to catch his breath. Saroja mistaken thought he was responding to Suguna's warning. Frantically she reached with her free hand (one was still gripping Suguna's arm) and grabbed Murugesh's ass. Clenched as it was she felt the steel of his muscles. For a brief moment her fingers caressed the toned hard-muscled flesh. "No wonder he fucks like a bull!" she marveled. 

She pulled at him but her hands did not have the strength of his body. With her right leg (her left leg was slung over his shoulder) she propped her hips up as best as she could and fucked at the cock that was stationed just a quarter or less inside her.

Suguna watched in jealous fascination as the pillar, smeared with juices disappeared around the grabbing lips of Saroja's cunt. Her own desires soared and she slipped fingers down her belly to rub herself for some measure of relief.

"Fuck me!" she hissed at Murugesh. 

"How un-lady like," muttered Murugesh. He meant to tease and taunt this high class woman who was not like a bitch in heat. 

Suguna simply leaned forward and covered Saroja's lips with her own. She just felt like kissing this beautiful woman. Saroja smelt the paan which Suguna habitually chewed on the maid's breath. It felt fragrant. It was a relief for Saroja. Somewhere inside her were worries of smells, breaths, hygiene -- all abandoned for passion, pleasure and lust. The fragrant smell encouraged her to do more. She seemed to be dealing with people who were just like her own people. And she had taken, devoured and pleasured her own people in enough number of ways.

Somehow, when the sex transcended the routine missionary stuff, there seemed to be a world more equal. When she took her nephew in her fist, it included her willingness to touch his bodily fluids. When she mouthed her brother she remembered the initial acidic taste. It had not repelled her. It was followed by the tasted of seminal fluids and cum. 

The same willingness was in her own nephew when he sank his face between his aunt's legs. And now she knew he must have tasted nothing different between Suguna the maid's legs when he sixty-nined with her. Whatever he overcame to eat her pussy were the same inhibitions he must have overcome to eat Suguna's pussy.

At the time she had lost it -- how dare her nephew, coming from their family indulge in pleasures from those who were not allowed to even share their teacups?

But now, in her own lust, she realized that the inhibitions you overcome are the same. Whether nephew or servant. Beyond that inhibition, the fluids were the same -- and you could not be finicky when indulging in sexual adventures.

So if the maid was luscious in her kisses, she was not going to be spare any attentions on her. She kissed back, her tongue invading the other's surprised mouth. Suguna squealed in pleasure as the throbbing flesh in her mouth felt sensuous. 

The effect was on Murugesh. He was immeasurably excited to see the two woman go at each other. It was his first threesome where the two others were women. Once in a drunken state he and his friend, both of them quite drunk had shared a woman. It did not please him to see that other guy do things to the same woman. But this felt different.

The surge in his loins told him he was going to cum. He had been masturbating at the sight before. He had now fucked the lady enough times. The fuck-back was exquisite as the sheath rode over his head. And now this sight. The pleasure boiled over.

But he did not want it to end. He pulled out of Saroja. He held his cock in his fist, pressing down willing the pleasure to recede.

Saroja screamed into Suguna's mouth in frustration. She pushed away Suguna and asked, "Where is he?" 

It was rhetorical. She was going to find him herself. She kneeled in front of him combative in her posture. Both were facing each other and the other woman in this sexual equation (the wife) was next to them.

Saroja pushed him back. "I want that!" she proclaimed. 

Used to taking instructions from women like Saroja, Murugesh stared at her dumbly. He fell back with his cock waving in the air. Saroja mounted him. As she did so, her juices welled up in her cunt poured forth. She slid down on him taking him up fully. He claimed her breasts, gripping them very tight in his large rough hands. As she fucked down he squeezed and milked those breasts to her extreme relief and pleasure.

"Aah! Ayyo! Amma!" exulted Saroja as she took her pleasure in the full. Her thighs ached as she pumped up and down on him. It was exercise her body was not used to. But the things one does in sexual fervor go beyond the normal. She kept at it till the desperation caused by his withdrawal receded. The squelching and thumping sounds that filled the air also filled Suguna with jealousy. She could not address that feeling just now; but she did try and quench her own fires with furious masturbation.

As Saroja's pleasure came down from the peaks -- partly because of the extremely wet conjoint -- she slumped forward on Murugesh. Fresh from the liberating kiss of Suguna's she kissed Murugesh. He was not terribly used to that; their sex was free from the more nuanced sensuality of kisses. He awkwardly responded. Saroja smelt stale liquor on his breath and it further caused her arousal to recede. 

Suddenly she felt a soft hand creep in between them. As the fuck-thrusts grew more gentle Suguna put her hand between them. Her hand was flat to find its way through the gap. Her fingers snaked around her husbands cock. She felt the intense wetness. She withdrew her hand and inserted her hand back this time with palm facing upward at Saroja's stomach. Her forefinger found the pleasure-zone she had been massaging previously. 

Expertly she rubbed hard. The movements of the lovers were slower now and she found the space and time to pleasure Saroja. The pleasure soared again. This time, unlike the last when Suguna had massaged her clit, the cunt was full of rock hard flesh. The pleasure was complete. She was full and she was being stimulated.

It broke the last barrier of pleasure. Saroja shuddered and spasmed and melted. The flood down the tunnel soaked Suguna's hand and Murugesh's cock. His cock was ready to burst, humming and buzzing on the precipice of an explosion. But the squishiness could do nothing to take him the full distance.

Saroja moaned loudly as the waves rocked her. She buried her face in the broad, strong shoulders of Murugesh. Here was a fantastic mix of experience, strength and endowment. It made her nephews enthusiasm seem boyish and immature. It made her husband's ardor seem like that of an ill-equipped enthusiast. She sobbed her pleasure biting into the shoulder.

"Aah! Yes! Aah! Do me! Give. Do it. Don't leave me!" she begged as the waves went over her. Her breasts crushed against the servant man's chest below. And slowly she went into a slump.

Murugesh was still hard, throbbing and pulsating. He was unsure about handling Saroja. He had been taken aback by her ardor. As her weight slumped on him in full, he wondered what to do. He wanted to fuck again, desperate for his own release. He need not have bothered. Suguna gently massaged Saroja's back and gaining control of that body, she gently pushed till the lady of the house rolled off.

"Aah, amma," yelped an exhausted Saroja as the cock, erect as ever slid out. The pull out was as pleasurable with her entire being feeling tender and receptive to touch. 

Suguna did not leave her untended. She gave her a quick rubdown, leaving no part untouched. The breasts were caressed. The face was stroked. The aching thighs were pressed. The pubis was pressed with a full, flat palm. Saroja was becalmed. Her breathing, ragged and frantic in passion slowed down and she felt a drowsiness. As the mind shifted from pleasure to aftermath she found herself wondering about getting the maid and her husband out of her bed. She did not to sleep with them there; and later wake to find them there either.

She was wondering about that as Suguna's hands worked her. And while Suguna went about this with a sense of duty, her own unfulfilled desires were on her mind. She needed to fuck but she was wondering about where and how. Suddenly out of the corner of her eye she spotted the supine Murugesh reach for his cock.

The cock was leaning on its weight and seemed to be off its highs. Murugesh needed release like mad and his hand movement was almost involuntarily.

Suguna saw it as a threat to her own fulfillment. What would she do next if he came on his own? In haste she abandoned Saroja.

Quickly straddling what was hers in the first instance, she looked down. She saw a cock smeared and wet. In a reversal of social attitudes, she found herself unwilling to sink down on Saroja's puddle of fluids. She winced -- a facial expression not lost on Saroja as she watched in the daze of her drowsiness.

"Go now!" she said, unable to move a muscle or put any mistress-like authority into her voice. 

Suguna grabbed at the nearest available cloth -- the spread out saree of her mistress -- and threw it on the cock. The tented cloth was then used to dry her husband as best she could. There were limitations on how much the cloth could be used to clean up the mess. There were far greater limitations on how much time she was willing to spend on cleaning while waiting in desperation to fuck.

She threw aside the cloth and positioned herself over Murugesh.

"No!" commanded Saroja finding energy to stop both from fucking on her marital bed. Never mind she had fucked and been fucked by nephew and maid's husband. That was her prerogative. But not them on their bed!

Suguna fucked down and took her husband in, in one full stroke. Perhaps she had dried him too much for she screamed as pain preceded pleasure. The scream transformed to an expression of pleasure very quickly. Saroja was now treated to a spectacle of how dramatic sex could be between two equally strong partners.




The Guidance of Nephews Ch. 06



Suguna and Murugesh went at each other like animals. Even though she was on top weighing down, Murugesh's fucks threw her up. He held her breasts like he had held Saroja's before; but here the blouse was on. It was damp and clung to the skin below --braless as she went. The nipples were twisted and breasts clawed. Slowly hooks popped. Some were gone previously. The task of holding swollen heavy breasts and resisting the mauling actions of the man proved too much.

She fucked right back.

"Do you really need a high class bitch?" she bellowed. 

"When I am here?" she seethed, each word separated by a fuck.

Saroja was about to protest at the language used but lapsed into silence, quite stunned by the ferocity of the fucking.

Murugesh sat up. His cock now rubbed against the Suguna's clit as she continued to move her hips in rhythm. Saroja marveled at the strength and stamina. She swore she would act on her resolve to start gymming. But then she also thought of how little it took her to make Arvind cum. And now she was destined to compare him; and want more; and look for more than what she had been used to, right upto now.

The man thrust at woman sitting on him. The woman raised her thighs a bit and fucked down more. She increased her control with that hoist up. His cock could not reach up to her insides; she could fuck down the entire length of him. But it also brought her breasts to his face. And he bit on her with a vengeance. The blouse was all but strained apart. Murugesh ripped at it and stuffed her breast into his mouth.

He squealed his pleasure onto the flesh as Suguna changed the direction and rotated in her fucks.

"Will you get this!" she asked, her sexual rage unabated. 

The fucking was intense. Sweat poured. Saroja watched in mute fascination. This was real fucking. This was sex. This was passion. But this was also her bed, her bedroom. She doubted it would witness this intensity ever again. Either between her and her husband; or another couple like this.

Murugesh was ready to spill his load. He had been ready for awhile now and the postponement made it more urgent. But he was not going to do that except how a man should seed his woman.

He heaved himself up. There was strength! Saroja watched the buttocks clench. She had felt that steel with her hands, her fingers. She now watched as Murugesh used his muscles to lift Suguna up. She used her own strength to remain prone over him. But now her buttocks were in his hands. Now she was speared on him. Now she could move by pressing down against his hands. But the control shifted to him. He could lift her off and drop her back. Which he did. But that was not how he wanted to come.

He dropped her back. The cunt pulled the cock downward and slid off. It was pleasurable. But the pleasure ended in despair for Suguna as cock vacated the cunt. As she slid off the cock sprang back up. Saroja watched drops of fluid splash upward on release. 

Murugesh did not wipe any fluids. He rammed Suguna. But his head was turned towards Saroja. His eyes met hers. His eyes roamed her body. He fucked Suguna harder as he looked at the lady and imagined it was her he was fucking.

Suguna hollered, "Ayyo! Amma! Yes, like that!" 

Her eyes rolled in her head. She looked up to see her husband and was shocked that his attention was elsewhere. Was that the surge in his hardness and thickness? He was imagining her? While fucking me?

"Hey look here!" she implored. 

Her body wanted and loved what it was getting. She could not have done without it for a moment. But her mind wanted something more as well. 

He ignored her. Saroja was beautiful. He drank in the sight of her luxuriant breasts, her spread out hair, the curve of her stomach and the wideness of her hips. An Indian's dream definition of beauty!

He became more animal with Suguna. She wept her orgasm. It was physically complete but unfulfilling for who knew where the vigor was coming from. She came sooner than him though he too had been on the boil. He had at least had some stimulation. She had been simmering for hours. 

She took what she got. As she waited for him to pound out his finish he surprised her.

He withdrew. He surprised the supine Saroja as well. He jumped from this woman to that.

The beautiful body he admired, he wanted to cum in that. Saroja had done much with him and others. But that was in the heat of lust. Now in her relaxed state she was thinking better. She did not want more of him; certainly not his cum.

But it was not her choice. He mounted her with a new ferociousness. This time her legs were spread out. This time he was deep in her womb. This time she was more conscious of the fucking. But nothing explained why she raised her legs and wrapped around him. She felt his steel in side her, around her and she suddenly -- just as sudden as his advance -- welcomed it.

She moved in rhythm. He cried out his orgasm. She took his seed deep in there where she did not actually want it.

She clung to him as he spasmed though she wanted to push him out of her bedroom. 

She came in small tremors though she was completely satiated. 

Her pussy pulsated and clasped at the similarly pulsating cock though she had no further use for him.

She opened her eyes and met the eyes of her maid. Both women were helpless with the marauding man. One wanted him to cum in her. the other wanted him to leave. One wanted to fuck him more. The other wanted no more. One enjoyed the luxurious room and the opportunity of pleasuring herself here. The other wanted her room back to herself.

The one who wanted everything watched as the one who wanted it to end took it all.

Saroja took all of Murugesh. She enjoyed every bit of the man's thrashing and shuddering as he emptied himself fully into her. She helped him with her pussy. She caressed him. She held him as he beat against her. and she felt the hot surge in her womb and welcomed it. 

She satiated him. Fully. Like she had satiated all the new men thus far in her life. 

He satiated her like none other could or might ever again. And she hated herself for it.

The sheer physical exhaustion that followed led her to sleep. He slept on top of her. she was unaware of anything for a long time. When she stirred, she felt the absence of weight.

She woke up and found the room empty. The only presence was the heavy stench of wild sex.

Saroja got up. Change was necessary if sanity was to return. She had a plan. 

In the next three months she executed it. the house was changed. The maid was gone. And the nephews had moved on to their careers.

Just when she thought she had it sorted out and put all the illicit happenings behind her, something unexpected happened.



The Guidance of Nephews Ch. 07



"Where is Arvind?" the man at the door shouted. He must have been about seventy years old. He was wearing a shirt and a dhoti, which is a white cloth worn around the waist in South India and covers the lower part of the body all the way down to the toes.

Saroja heard the noises outside and came rushing from the kitchen. Who was this asking for her husband so rudely?

Her frown changed to a smile. The man at the door was her husband's uncle. This was the same uncle whose children were Sundar and Gopi. For those who do not recognize these names, Sundar and Gopi were her two nephews. She had taken both of these young men to bed. They had lost their virginity to her. And she had lost her innocence to them. The sex between a woman discovering her sexuality and young men discovering sex could only have been animal and animal it was. 

Right now she had been working in the kitchen. Without bothering too much about her disheveled state, she wiped her hands on her sari pallo and walked towards the door to invite him in.

"Welcome, welcome Mama!" she said. He was Arvind's mother's brother. 

"Where is Arvind?" repeated the agitated elder. At 70 years age he remained sprightly and fit. As he worked himself to a fury his face reddened.

"Come in and sit down first," pleaded Saroja, a little embarrassed. Neighbors were peering from their balconies and windows. Her previous house was an independent bungalow. It was different there. 

Let alone simple things like someone shouting at the main door, some audacious moments could happen in that bungalow. She had deflowered her nephew, exchanged intimacies with her maid and been plundered by the maid's husband. In fact, the maid had treated the nephew to some wild sex as well. All had happened there with discretion. No one knew. No one heard anything. Not even Saroja's husband.

This new place was in an apartment block. If someone stood around and shouted everyone would notice. The shift from house to apartment had happened at Saroja's insistence. She had felt the need to change her locality and put distance between Suguna the maid and her husband Murugesh and herself. While the maid's hands were magical and the husband's sexual prowess and endowment was unique in its combination, Saroja was wise enough to move away.

She had fucked her nephew, done stuff with her maid and filled -- no feasted on the maid's husband. But when the moment passed her usual self took over. No one could be permitted to retain any hold over her. The nephew studied well after the focus she created in his mind by making him familiar with sex. She shifted to a completely different locality. And so the new domestic staff had to be from the new locality. 

Problem solved. 

"I have not come here to sit down!" shouted the man, creating a scene. Saroja could see her neighbor open the door ajar and peer at the commotion. Others craned their necks from their balconies and up and down the stairwell.

"Mama!" hissed Saroja. "Come in. People are watching!"

"Let them watch! Let them know what kind of new neighbor they have," ranted the old man.

Saroja grabbed his arm and pulled him through the door. "What are you talking? What happened now?" asked Saroja alarmed at his tone. The two families had an excellent relationship and the tone adopted by the uncle was unjustifiable.

"Is Arvind not at home?" thundered the uncle.

"No. He is outstation on a tour," said Saroja. She was too was red now, flushed with embarrassment.

"Well, then, let me ask the witch herself," taunted the uncle.

"What? Unless you tell me what the matter is how can I respond to anything?" pleaded Saroja showing the deference expected in Indian society.

"Did you do things with Gopi and Sundar?" asked uncle.

Saroja reddened ever more and she felt a choking sensation. Not that! She hoped and prayed the boys had the good sense to keep their sexual adventures private and confidential. There were reasons and situations which to her mind justified whatever had happened. But she did not want to have to discuss those with anyone.

"What things?" she stammered. Suddenly she became conscious of her disheveled state. More than the untidiness she was conscious of her blouse which was a tad too small for her. Her sari was not wrapped around her so her torso -- blouse and all -- was open to inspection. Damp patches of sweat made her skin show through. And she had been washing vessels- so water too played its part. She drew her sari palloo around herself trying to appear more decorous.

"Now it is too late to cover anything!" continued uncle with his taunts. As Saroja covered herself, he too took a look at his nephew's wife; by extension she counted as a daughter. The full breasts, flesh bursting from the ill fitting blouse did not escape his attention. He caught himself assessing her sexuality, but it was her fault. It was natural to wonder if the woman was capable of the things that had been reported to him. He would not know for he had never looked at her in that manner. 

But since he had been told of the possible sexual corruption of his sons, he had tried to remember this woman in different terms. However, each time he could only recall her as Arvind's caring wife who looked after his every little need. And equally attentive to his needs as a daughter of the house. In the same manner that she who would care for her father-in-law in a traditional household.

In fact, he could not recall any specific physical attributes, let alone anything sexual. 

On the train trip he took to confront Saroja and expose her to Arvind, he tossed and turned all night. He had always thought the boys were safe in their house. Could it have been her? Was she the type? Or was it someone else the boy's befriended in the neighborhood? But he had been told of some incident in the family wedding the previous year...

His inability to conjure up images of her was now compensated by her physical shape in front of him.

"I don't know what you are talking about," said Saroja as she brushed past him to close the front door. It helped her to avoid looking him in the eye, guilty as she was of solving the problems the boy's faced by giving them the sex they so keenly wanted. She was also guilty of going beyond and indulging herself rather fully. More fully than she had ever sexually encountered her own husband.

As she walked past, uncle took note of her glistening neck covered with perspiration from the humid air. He also smelt her sweaty aroma. And yes, her arm brushed his arm. She seemed like a woman bubbling with sexuality. There could be truth in those rumors.

It suited him as well that they were no longer face to face. He could blurt out what he wanted to confront her with a little easier. 

"I am talking about what you did with Sundar when he was here," he said.

"I only made him focus on his studies," she said heading back to the kitchen, once again past him.

This time uncle took in the sight of her rolling backside; it looked sumptuous and full too. There was more to this woman than he had previously noticed, obviously.

"By doing what!" asked uncle, again raising his voice.

"By removing distractions," replied Saroja determined to skirt uncle's issues but keeping focus on the real issues.

"You are supposed to advise and restrain them, not indulge them," remonstrated uncle.

"Both Arvind and I use a carrot and stick approach with them. That is why they listen to us. That is how he got admission at the IIT," said Saroja. She was clear that the outcome justified any means she may have adopted.

"I don't it has anything to do with Arvind. Something has been going on between you and Gopi and Sundar which Arvind does not know about. Or should I tell Arvind about it?" asked uncle. He now had the upper hand. He knew Arvind could not possibly know of his wife's activities.

Saroja stiffened. The young men seemed to have been boasting. Was she a conquest? Or had she just been an aunt intent on comforting and soothing the confusion brought about by unfulfilled sexual needs? Why had they not taken care of her by keeping these things to themselves?

"I just managed things no one else in the family could," flared Saroja. Attack was the best form of defense here. She bustled about the kitchen and hall attending to minor chores and tasks, not standing still to face uncle. In the process, her pallo fell loose from the tuck around her waist and once again uncle was privy to her charms. That bosom, sweaty, damp and stuck in places to her skin told him she could have been the subject of the rumor. 

"Any young man would be attracted to such a woman'" he thought. "But there is a decorum a daughter -- in -- law of the house must observe'" he said aloud.

"And have I not maintained that?" she said with a toss of her head. Her tousled hair made her look even more attractive. Uncle was now sure. Yes, his daughter had the sexual demeanor that could validate his suspicions. Had she been any different, he would have had doubts. But once he had assessed her in this fashion, he could see the possibility.

In fact, uncle was aroused. He felt his cock twitch like it hadn't in a few years now. He was surprised at himself. He was ashamed at his bodily response.

He turned away from her to avoid being spotted. The Indian dhoti was a poor garment at hiding the male erection. Any tenting would be obvious even to a casual glance.

"I would agree with you if there weren't any rumors," he said.

"What rumors?" asked Saroja, irritated.

"That you corrupted them," he said. There was no word for 'sex' or 'fuck' or even anatomical parts in the language their community used. Everything taboo lacked an expression in language even. 

"I removed corrupt thoughts from their minds," defended Saroja. 

"By corrupting them?" asked uncle disbelievingly. He was now visualizing Saroja disrobing for Sundar and Gopi. The thought caused his cock to swell to full proportions making it impossible for him to turn towards her. His voice turned hoarse from his arousal and Saroja sensed that the edge of hard anger was gone. She knew she had a fighting chance of coming out of this.

"They have needs, okay? You and mami are just not tuned to those needs. Whether it is counseling, books, money, materials, and permission to travel -- whatever. They have no one to sync to. That is why they look to Arvind. And to me!" she explained.

"Those things are okay," admitted uncle. Unable to take the conversation further without being explicit he brought himself to utter the word: "But sex? No, you should not have exposed them to that."

"Youngsters nowadays need no one to tell them anything. They already know about everything. Merely hiding the issues or ignoring them solves nothing," replied Saroja.

"But elders in our families handle these things differently," said uncle.

"Yes. And the children wander away," argued Saroja.

"Yes, but not like this," insisted uncle.

"They have needs okay!" shouted Saroja, losing her cool. This was the problem with the older generation. Obstinate and unwilling to see another point of view.

She grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him around, "Look at me," she insisted. "I have only made them focus on their studies," she pleaded.

As he was turned around by her forceful pull, uncle desperately reached for his dhoti to pull it up so it would camouflage his shameful erection. 

He merely invited attention to it.

Saroja gasped in horror. She pulled back, taken aback. But her eyes stayed on the erection tenting the older man's dhoti.

His hung down in embarrassment. 

"This is not the way these things are to be," he mumbled, crestfallen. His bodily reaction had deprived him of his moral high ground.

"But this is how it is," said Saroja firmly. "At your age, you have needs. Then why should they not when they are at that age?" she demanded to know.

"I don't have any such needs," protested the old man.

"Come here," said Saroja holding by his hand and moving him into her bedroom. The hall had too many windows and she was now in dangerous turf. "Then what is that?" she asked glancing down at the telltale sign of a significant erection.

"Nothing. Nothing. You are misinterpreting things," mumbled the old man, tears welling up in his eyes.

"This doesn't need interpretation. This is reality. This is what I am asking you to recognize" said Saroja, unaware that the shamed man was in tears. Saying this she stepped forward and with gentle fingers traced the outline of the cock within the cloth in a bid to establish undisputed facts.

Uncle broke into tears. His embarrassment and exposure was complete. He shuddered when she touched him and it was more humiliation than he could bear.

He wept.

"Mama!" cried out Saroja alarmed. "I didn't mean it that way!" she said, startled at the turn of events. She put her arms around him to comfort him. Uncle slid down in a complete breakdown.

He buried his face in her shoulder weeping uncontrollably. 

"Shh!" she soothed him, rocking him to her bosom. Uncle felt comforted but it was not because of her soothing words. It was because he enjoyed the warm softness of her breasts. His mind turned to the actual fact of her breasts in his face. His hard on which had flagged at the tears soared to new highs. He nuzzled her.

Saroja stiffened. Had he? 

He rubbed his face in her breasts again. Yes, he had.

She did not know how to react. Uncle sank into the comforts of her bosom and made no sign of leaving her embrace. She stayed still. She wanted the tears to stop and this seemed to be helping.

As she waited patiently, rocking him, the other thing the closeness helped reached mammoth proportions. It would have gone unnoticed but for the drop which fell from the cock onto her foot. It could have been a tear. That is what Saroja thought till a moment later she felt the erection nudge her thigh. Now she suspected it to be a drop of pre-cum.

She sighed. "There is only one way to teach a man, young or old," she thought to herself. Her hand snaked down and gently held his shaft in her hand. As she did so she reflected on how similar he was to Arvind, her husband. "Probably not so hot in bed either," she mused.

There was nothing desperately inadequate in Arvind. What he lacked by comparison to someone like Murugesh, the well endowed and powerful husband of her former maid, Arvind made up in affection and the feelings they had for each other. Having experienced several men in the last few months -- each separately and each justified separately as well -- she just ended up making comparisons. Even if they were meaningless. After all, she was not going to bed uncle was she? Was she?

Uncle shuddered and stifled a groan as he felt a woman's hand on his cock after several years, even if it was through cloth. "Sarojamma!" he moaned her name. He called her like that often to emphasize the father-daughter nature of the relationship. But this time the calling out was so hopelessly different. But there was no other endearment he had for her. And he had to call out to her so dearly. The calling out was somewhere between an apology and surrender.

"This," said Saroja, clenching and unclenching her fingers on the slenderish cock, "is desire. This is the need. It is the same need those boys had. Who else can feel for them that way? And who else can take care of it for them so harmlessly?" asked Saroja.

Uncle's hips moved in the rhythm that no man needs to be taught, his desire demanding some comforting from being masturbated. At least for the edge of his desire.....?

"Harmlessly?" he stammered. "What do you mean harmlessly?" It was not an actual question. His body had overtaken his mind and he needed some form of engagement. Otherwise his real attention was on Saroja's breasts which he continued to nuzzle. As he soaked the fabric he started to wonder if she was wearing a bra at all. Or was he going to be lucky enough to get at her nipple?

Had be pulled back and reflected he would have been shocked. A girl he himself had selected for his nephew to marry, who had treated him with great respect befitting a family elder: here he was fumbling among her clothes to feel her flesh with his lips. But he was no longer thinking.

She was. She was very conscious of what was happening here. As she had been with her brother, her nephews -- she knew that once again the fabric of relationships in the family was going to be dependent on her adroitness. 

(The incident with Murugesh, the maid's husband was not to be over-interpreted. She was vulnerable at that moment and he was exceptional. That was the nature of sexuality -- once unleashed, it reduces a woman to forgo anything to indulge in that joy as observed in that timeless love-sex manual The Kamasutra. It was unalloyed pleasure. She had taken it, reveled in and moved on.)

So if once again gaining control over Uncle was going to be instrumental in keeping the family together she was not going to balk.

While she justifying what was happening with all those thoughts, her hand was lazily sliding back and forth on uncle's very rigid member. If it lacked anything in dimension, it lacked nothing in hardness. She was brought back to reality by his other hand cupping her breast and clumsily trying to find its way through to flesh where actually no such path existed.

"This is how they were too," she said pushing him back and holding his face in her hands. His tear stained face stared up at her. He wondered what would happen next. The tears had come from embarrassment and the strain of feeling illicit desires. They had dried and now, avoiding looking in her eyes to hide his guilt, he had worked on her body. Forced to look into her eyes now he realized that the moral authority with which he had descended on her had completely evaporated. 

But even as she looked into his eyes, the continued stroking of his cock told him he need not worry about anything stopping just yet. Cleverly, he adjusted himself so that his dhoti parted. As she continued her gentle stroking -- not too hard to count as masturbation; not too soft to allow his brain to start thinking again -- she felt his bare thighs. Suddenly she knew that she could feel his flesh in her fist -- if she wanted to.

"And if I gave them what they wanted, they were fine too," she said withdrawing her hand, leaving him gasping for her just-right grip again. She was testing him. How far would she need to go? Had she done enough to buy his silence?

"But they are too young for this. At least, I am married," said uncle in a daze.

"This," she said firmly, sliding her hand in between the folds of the dhoti and gripping his hot member in her soft fleshy fist, "is the same. Whether bachelors or unmarried. Old or young. Desire," she whispered. Her hand moved more firmly this time giving him a dress rehearsal of what she could do to him, for him. Uncle shuddered helplessly as he felt himself milked. He was wasting time, he suddenly felt. He should ravage her. Now! Grab her breasts. Suck and bite them! And mount her. And show her how much of a man he is!

He reached with both his hands for both of her breasts. He did not manhandle her. He held them as if weighing the mounds. His thumbs tentatively searched out for her nipples. He still did not know whether there was an impeding bra.

"This too, they wanted," she said. She would have to do more to silence him. He wasn't blackmailing her. She was not buying his silence. But step by step, what needed doing was so clear. "I gave them," she went on. Her hands left his cock hanging for more once again.

As she reached for the hooks of her blouse he found himself willing to wait. But his cock ached and he reached for it himself and did something he had not done since his teen years -- he played with himself. 




The Guidance of Nephews Ch. 07



She unhooked her blouse and left it open to hang. The melon-like breasts burst out and hung, the blouse covering most of them but leaving enough for him to see. The nipples were not seen. Was there a bra and had she unhooked both in one go? His throat dried as he took in the view of the luscious flesh. 

Gently, he pushed aside the fabric and slid his hands under. He had done all this before --not to her. But he had done all this before. His fingers found her flesh burning hot and unfurled thick nipples standing erect. He brushed them briefly. He thought of his sons handling that same flesh. "You let them do this?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Why, what is there?" she asked. "The obsession is only when they do not know what it is. Here -- you too are fascinated. And so what?" So saying she guided his hands more firmly and had him cover both the orbs. Uncle squeezed gently. He was so gentle and experienced in his touch. There was no animal roughness or brutal hurting in the way Murugesh had been with her. The squeezing action was like a gentle milking. His thumbs teased out her teats

Saroja's gasp was involuntary. "Someone who has seen it all before is so aroused, how can you blame young men?" she asked.

"I am not blaming them," replied uncle, marveling at the weight and pride of her breasts. 

"Are you blaming me then?" she asked, holding his hands as if to stop him.

He merely shook his head to indicate no. AS he tried to knead them more, she held his arms a little more firmly. "No," he said lamely with no conviction.

She pressed his hands to her breasts more intently. She rotated his hands on her mass of flesh seeking some relief for herself. "An expert like you gives so much pleasure. And amateurs are so forceful. What do you expect a woman to do?" groaned out Saroja throwing her head back.

"I had to cure them of their obsession. And they were naturally good at responding to me. But now I know why!" hissed Saroja in a seductive voice. "It runs in their blood," she whispered into his lips. Flatter a man sexually and get what you want.

"Am I good?" he whispered back. That a young woman should find him adept excited him no end.

She gave a short laugh. It sounded like music to him. Actually it was her recognition of having conquered him.

"Come!" she invited at her seductive, alluring best. 

It was time to fuck a different generation of the family she had married into. 

Her sari was already unraveled from the time she let go of her pallo to open out her blouse. Now she tugged at where it was tucked into her petticoat and it quickly fell in a heap at her feet. 

As uncle continued to toy her now swollen tits, she undid the cord of her petticoat. Her eyes darted to the windows of her bedroom to make sure the curtains were properly drawn. They were. The opened petticoat clung to the curve of her hips and ass, refusing to slide to the floor the way the sari had. 

As her hands went to push the cloth over the hip, she felt shy. Opening out her blouse had been a lot easier. Breasts were very nurturing and it was possible to draw a man's head or hands to them as a beginning. But to go nude, and to bare her pussy... it demanded more. And the man in front of her was someone she had been taught and learned to respect and treat with care. 

Uncle too seemed to hesitate a bit. "Two wrongs..." he started to say. "Don't make a right," is what he wanted to say. But his mind took him elsewhere.

Could he actually see his own daughter's pussy bare? Sex was wonderful. But some of the steps associated with it required a certain boldness or a mindset which was challenging in the present situation. How to do this?

Saroja knew instinctively that unless she acted decisively the old man would merely vacillate and go back to moaning about the corruption of his sons.

Drawing him close to her she put one arm around his shoulders and whispered in his ear, "Don't think. Don't look."

She held him so close that he could not see her body. Nor did she look him in the eye. When her body was bare it was without either of them looking down. Her blouse was still on and hanging around her shoulders. But she was now open enough to take his cock.

She slid to the floor. Uncle was not quick enough to keep pace with that move, especially since he was totally unsure of what he should do -- or not do. His daughter was showing him exactly how his sons had lost control with her. His Saroja ma was showing how she had fucked them by fucking him. His mind was dizzy and his cock was buzzing with pent up arousal.

For uncle sex meant man on top and woman on the floor with her legs agape. He did not know any other position. For such a man, the wet mouth of his nephew's wife on his cock was a sensation completely new and fellatio a concept completely alien.

"Eeswara!" he groaned loudly, calling out to God almighty. It was a calling out to God in response to the divine sensations he felt at the hot bubbling sheath of her mouth, with her tongue intertwining and bobbing with his cock. It was also a screamed out apology for succumbing to the intense and illicit pleasure he ought not to have taken. It was like a plea to god to forgive him but how could he not take such intense pleasure?

The allusion to god fell on deaf ears as Saroja merely continued what had been an instinctive response to having encountered uncle's bobbing erection on the way down. She slurped and slobbered on the cock and pulling him down by the arms lay down.

It was all done in one smooth swoop so that uncle did not have to see Saroja lying their legs agape, cunt with hair and all spread out and she lewdly opening herself to be fucked by her.

Instead, as she lay he covered her with himself. He propped himself on his arms, she below him. The breasts -- those magnificent mounds of pleasure -- lay shimmering in her perspiration. The nipple of one jutting up in pride; the other covered by the flap of her blouse. She pulled apart the blouse fully allowing him to take in the sight of the other nipple as well.

Her hand reached between them and she held the cock. It felt inadequate in its girth but that was in comparison to Murugesh. Compared to Arvind it was similar; but once she went illicit her mind went to satiation rather than satisfaction. 

She pulled him down guiding his body with his cock. She held it at her cunt lips and hissed, "Find out more!"

Uncle pushed. She was ready for him but not surging wet. The politics of the situation she was managing kept her from flooding with juices. In her depths she was soppy but at penetration it was near-dry.

Uncle grunted. Saroja reached between them and prised her lips apart. Such active participation had never been witnessed by uncle. In his day, it involved a few unsuccessful and maybe painful thrusts. One was not to touch sexual body parts and eventually things yielded to allow intercourse. Here, Saroja ma had mouthed him, touched him and was now touching herself to help him fuck her.

He penetrated her. The fact that she was not overly soppy helped her experience his scything through her cunt. She gasped in pleasure. By the time he dipped fully and pulled out the wetness was thorough -- that is all it took. She raised her legs and brought them to lock around his hips. 

"Do more!" she implored, her eyes closed. Uncle leaned forward and sucked at her tits. Balancing on the palm of his hands and the tips of his toes he touched her only in two places. One was his cock reaming her cunt and the other was his mouth milking her nipple.

Saroja gasped. What uncle lacked in dimensions he made up in pistoning in and out of her and that too with some speed. What he lacked in girth he made up in length; which meant she touched him deep, sometimes too deep. But basically, in some new places. She sighed in amazement at her own appetite for this: each man was different and each involvement was also different. From motherly love, to raw pleasure-seeking, to politically charged -- each brought its own sizzle.

Uncle did what he new best. He sawed away at her cunt and he chewed and nibbled incessantly on her nipples.

Her pussy bubbled up and she shook and shuddered scaring the old man. He slowed down somewhat, unsure what was happening to his young daughter when she goaded him on.

"No! No! No!" she begged. "Just go on! You are doing just fine!" she clung onto him and hissed through her teeth as she quickly came.

The old man, fit and fine at his age, continued to pound into her like a mechanical fuck-machine. His pleasure was complete but there seemed to be a threshold he could not cross. He closed his eyes and concentrated on crossing that last barrier. It was elusive; but the pleasure at this side was indescribably great. He continued, knowing that he had to release into her to actually finish.

Saroja laughed out her pleasure as she contrast this man with Arvind who by now would have come and come hard with her fucking. 

Uncle's cock lost some of its body as the woman laughed. He mistook her to be laughing at him. 

"What happened?" he asked stopping completely.

Saroja looked at him impishly. Her body was slick with sweat and uncle was dripping on her too. 

"When you need so much guidance and encouragement, how much do they need?" she asked.

"Why?" asked uncle, his erection losing its stiffness quite completely. 

"Because nothing is wrong and you cannot even make out what is happening to me. Just go on," she said, humping her hips against him uselessly even as his cock, completely ineffective slipped out. 

She wiggled down and with both hands and gentle fingers manipulated the jut of a cock. There was something in fucking which did not feel completely unless the man filled her with his seed. It was like chewing but not swallowing. If he hadn't shuddered and emptied it was not over and done with.

Her fingers slid over the head and with each passing over the cock jerked to one larger dimension. She shimmied down further. Holding her tits she brought the cock in between. 

A loud "Aaah!" from uncle told her he was enjoying the warmth of her tits. She was smeared with his juices and hers. The cock regained its fullness in a jiffy. 

Uncle would not have known what to call it but fucking the hot, slick cleavage between the mounds she was holding together for him came instinctively. He fucked her breasts. 

"Everything can be sorted out. But it needs doing," she said to no one in particular, breathlessly.

Deftly, she turned him over on his back. As uncle flopped over his cock waved in air. Once again Saroja did the unthinkable in his view. She took the messy, everything coated cock in her hand. And now, even though both of them had found it awkward he was treated to the sight of his nephew's wife lewdly poised over him. One knee on the ground and the other leg askew foot firmly on the ground, she hovered over him as she grabbed his cock.

Lowering herself, but not too much, she guided the head and searched out the pathway to her waiting, aching pussy. Uncle watched mesmerized by Saroja ma's workman like manner of going about this task. Her breasts jiggled under their own weight as she maneuvered about. His hands lay idle by the side of his head on the floor. Something caught the corner of his eye and he turned right. 

There in the mirror on the front of the cupboards to their right was a completely different view of him with his daughter. There he was old and wrinkled, except for his cock which was anything but wrinkled. She had had this marvelous effect on him. There she was on top of him, manipulating them to copulate again. There were those lovely succulent breasts, but the flaps of the blouse covered them, with only the nipples and a little bit of the curve bobbing in and out of view. 

And there was her face, hair sticking to it with sweat, and she looked as if she was in pain -- her face was screwed up. It brought him back from the unreal reflection to Saroja poised over him. His hand reached up and he tenderly stroked her face and asked, "Are you okay?"

The grimace twisted into a lust laden half-smile. She looked luxurious. He was so lucky to be the center of this woman's attention at this time!

Saroja was having a bit of difficulty as she was wet but her hair had soaked it up. It was thick and congealed rather than wet and squishy. She was probing and pushing. And with his slenderness she was not sure if lodging the head and thrusting down would pierce her; he might skid sideways.

"I am okay!" she said breathlessly. "Just -- ah! -- finding a way to get you back in. We women have to do all the work always isn't it!" she joked.

Uncle felt obliged to add his own effort and thrust his upwards as if to help. Saroja put her fingers on his chest and pushed him down. There was authority in that push. There was ownership and conquest.

As he looked up and saw her breasts heaving, her face flushed and yes, that necklace (mangalsutra) indicating her wedded status, she did look like a queen that had conquered him.

He always had loved her. Now he loved her dearly. An incongruous thought was his hope that Arvind was looking after her well. 

His hands reached up and he claimed her breasts in both. This time he held nipple between forefinger and thumb and the palm held the mass of her flesh. She let his weight on him for a while and now she parted her lips with one hand and held his cock with the other.

As her weight sagged on his hands he squeezed --without crushing- her breasts as hard as he could. Saroja thrilled at the pleasure this brought. She marveled that though the sex must be a luxurious treat for the older man there was no feverish roughness in his handling. Care and patience brought an intensity to the way he touched and pleasured her -- even if he was minimal in his initiatives.

The cock was now within the opening folds. As uncle brought his hands down her lips neared his. Her other lips widen and swallowed him whole. 

He spotted the kumkum on her forehead -- another symbol of an Indian woman's married status -- smeared in a messy way. He kissed her on the forehead, her nose and her chin. And then he locked lips with her.

That lock was useful for him to scream his pleasure from the sudden rapid pistoning Saroja gave his cock. It was like she was the man here and he was the woman receiving a bludgeoning.

Once again his pleasure reached a crescendo and if reached that threshold at which he seemed unable to let go. He felt if he did let go, his prostrate and bladder would let go to. He closed his eyes and concentrated his mind on letting go. 

Saroja simply enjoyed the staying power, unaware that it was to do with his age. But she was also worried about the clock. They had been fucking a while now and in these apartments housewives called on each other frequently and casually at this time of day. Of her household help -- she knew nothing having lost all track of time. But surely she was due to drop by.

Her breasts heaved magnificently, weight notwithstanding. The slapping of their bodies together, their grunts and the quite separate slapping sounds of her breasts beating against her own body filled the room.

Saroja looked to the mirror and saw herself riding the supine uncle like an Amazonian on horseback. His hands were on her thighs now holding her dearly. She reached behind and under. Her fingers found his cock at the point where her cunt squelched around the rod. She teased his balls. 

Uncle hollered, "Amma, Sarojamma, amma mamamamama!" as he felt the lose of control.

Smiling, breathing heavily, sweating Saroja mercilessly reached further down and her fingernails scraped his perineum. As she pressed down uncle felt his body was going to explode.

She was not his nephew's wife anymore, this woman flapping wildly down on him. She was not his daughter anymore, this woman who was teasing parts of his body he himself had never touched leave alone caressed. 

She was just a sexy wench who god had sent for him to experience wild lust once before he died.

Just when he thought he might burst, she scrambled off him. Grabbing the bed sheet from the bed nearby she quickly dried his cock. The lack of sensation from the messy squish now was not helping. It brought her face oh-so-close to his cock. Her swinging mangalsutra slapped against his balls. She pulled it back and swung it around to the back so it was out of the way. He felt relieved. What he was doing was so utterly sinful and he did not symbols of tradition reminding him of that fact.

She looked up at him. Past his cock and his flat body. Uncle was craning downward to see why she had done that -stopped when he was going to explode. Her eyes were flaming -or so it seemed. She seemed like a woman possessed, breasts hanging, forehead smeared red with kumkum and lips hanging open. She closed her lips to kiss his cock.

Snaking out the pointed tip of her tongue she stabbed at the cock down its length from tip to balls and back up again to the head. And then back down all the way, this time all the way to the perineum where her fingernails had tenderly stimulated him. And back up again with butterfly kisses. And back down again with large wet kisses this time. 

But when she went down it was more than he could handle. He ought not to let his daughter demean herself by applying her mouth so low on his body. He half sat up and pulled her by her locks of hair -- and holding her face in his hand went through that feeling that every man does.

A woman who pleasured like a whore was a divine creature to be worshipped.

His eyes conveyed that devotion. She knew the look. She had seen in it on Sundar's face when he first felt her envelop him in her pussy. The devotion prevented him from fucking her the way he later fucked Suguna the maid. She wanted devotion so she could command him to study. But after seeing him fuck Suguna like an animal she had wanted that animalness.

But today, she was that animal. Her cunt was now fully alive and she was rich with juices to lubricate him in. she had him dry like she wanted. The time was now to make him cum and complete the lesson.

"This is how they felt too," she said wickedly as she rose above him one last time. She took him in easily now at a different angle. It allowed her to lean back. She stroked his balls and perineum as her cunt stroked down on his cock. 

Uncle held her thighs and watched, drunk and intoxicated at the sight of this all-consuming woman. This time his hands crept closer to where the cock and cunt were conjoined. His thumbs came together and he pressed the top of her pussy together as if to tighten the clamping on his cock.

He rotated his thumbs, it felt pleasurable. He was able to feel the effect on his cock and he trembled in anticipation of his release. Perhaps next time when her fingernails stroked her down there...

Her screams brought him out of his focus on himself. He stopped his thumbs. She screamed at him, "No, mama! No, don't stop! You always do at the wrong moment!" she panted as the action of his thumbs massaged a part of her anatomy he did not know existed.  

Her clit was trapped between the balls of his thumbs and was being mashed. The grinding of her clit was an unexpected bonus for the woman who thought all pleasure would have to be given as well as taken at her own initiative with this old man.

"Oh!" she wailed. She grabbed one breast with her free hand and pinched and twisted her nipple in desperation.

Uncle tried to reach up but she quickly put his hand back where she wanted them. On his clit. Uncle grew bolder and found his thumb finding wetness at the opening. The thumb strokes grew wider in their circle touching more, making more.

Saroja leaned forward. With gleaming eyes she held his face in her hands. She came close, breasts resting on his chest. She kissed him fully on the lips.




The Guidance of Nephews Ch. 07



"My mama!" she whispered and went back to her upright position. She brought his hands back to her groin, thumbs to the clit leaving her husband's uncle in no doubt on what she wanted. Leaning back she resumed both the strokings.

"Ah! Ha! Ah Ha!" she went with each stroke.

"Ungh!" grunted uncle once again concentrating on crossing the barrier.

Saroja's cunt and clit gave way. She thrashed and ground down on him as she flooded and poured. 

"Mama!" she cried out. "Ayyo, mama-ah!" she wailed. "Mam-ah! Mama-ah!, Mama-ah!" she wept as she came in torrents. 

She twisted, pinched and mauled her breasts. She wanted hands and lips everywhere. She thrashed about as uncle watched stupefied. The last time she had felt like this was when Murugesh was marauding her. On that occasion the maid, Suguna, Murugesh's wife was at hand to kiss her, fondle her and Saroja felt complete.

Today her mind leapt to the sons of the man she was fucking. Her nephews, Sundar and Gopi. They should have been here for their Saroja manni. She imagined each of them running riot on each of her breasts -- one a piece. She would feel so complete!

"You should have seen them!" she squealed as she took her pleasure at those completely far out thoughts. Boys and their father fucking her, loving her, sucking her and biting her simultaneously? Crazy! Not in this overachieving, focused and inhibited, political family.

"They fuck so well! They know how to treat a woman!" she humped down on uncle. Uncle felt a bit challenged like all males would. Here she was fucking him and thinking of his sons? Was he so inadequate for Saroja?

"You too do," she panted as if on cue. "Look at how you have made me flood" she looked down her face flushed red at the mess where their bodies bonded.

"But you need to be told once, don't you?" she asked, increasing the tempo. Would this man never come?

Carefully she smeared her little finger from the mess of fluids flowing down his balls. It was a well manicured one with no long finger nails. So coated, she snaked it down beyond the perineum and it entered him. It caused his sphincter release.

"Ayyo! Amma!" the man sobbed and sat up in shock. He streamed up into her, filled her in no time and squelched out of her down. They had their arms around each other, bounded tight. 

She took care of him, like she had all these years, this time differently. She rocked so he felt the strokes. She lifted herself a wee bit and dropped back so he felt milked. She did not leave one tremor large or small in him unattended. His every frisson of pleasure was allowed to blossom forth, and recede in a wave of satisfaction. Till the next one. And the next one. And the next one.... Till they receded fully.

One of her breasts was pressed against him. The other was behind the panel of her blouse and the hook dug into him. He carefully reached for it and made sure her breasts were firmly against his chest.

They sat like that, intertwined, enjoying the aftermath. Till his cock receded and slipped out. 

"It brings focus," said Saroja.

Uncle came out of his reverie. "What?" he asked.

"Focus. Sundar maxed his exams and got into IIT didn't he?" said Saroja.

Uncle nodded dumbly.

That was the answer she wanted.

Saroja rose. When she descended from the heights of pleasure she liked to arrive at a logical explanation for what had happened. That was how she explained her unbridled sexuality to herself. And to any one who might ask. Like Uncle.

As she stood up, her legs on either side of uncle below, he found himself staring at an agape reddened, angry looking pussy. Streaked, stained and creamed.

Finally here he was looking at his daughter in a manner that exemplified the illicitness of what he had just completed. She moved away and went into the washroom to clean herself.

Alone in that room sitting on the floor he could not even look at himself in the mirror alongside where just a while ago there had been a couple copulating like beasts.

He could not face himself. Nor her. She probably had him where she wanted him. When she came out, he had left.

Saroja felt sure she would hear no more of it. She went back to the kitchen and the chores of her day.



The Guidance of Nephews Ch. 08



"I need you," he said, his voice thick and feverish with desire. 

"Not right now," she hissed back. They were both in the kitchen. It was an open format kitchen and across the service counter into the hall one could clearly see where the men were seated.

Saroja had worked hard on her nephew Sundar's higher education in a manner that her husband could not have imagined. The young man was related to her husband. Everyone looked up to her husband Arvind. By extension, they looked up to Arvind's wife, too; the elder manni as it were in the family. 

Unusually, in Sundar's case the aunt's involvement had been unconventional. It had taken the full unleashing of her sexuality to take the then 18-year old's mind off sex. She had fucked him in every way that there was for a woman to fuck a man. She showed him his way around her body and gave him free run of her.

It had got rid of his obsession with sex. Through this phase of sexual awakening of the young man she extracted promises to study and the boy excelled thereafter.

Cleverly, she put space between them, convincing him that he was not in love with her; that he was obsessed bout sex. She indulged him and gave him as much sex as he wanted. The original goal of such a strategy was to prove to him that his desire was sex was not the same as his desire for his aunt. 

Unstated was her own desire for the strong young body of her nephew. She took her own pleasure, intense and indulgent even as she allowed him to use her.

He only used her. As he became more aware of his own sexuality, his needs soared to more adventurous pursuits. Those, the ones where he indulged his animal preferences -he kept those for the maid. For Saroja manni, it was worshipful sex. She was his goddess. He made love to her. The maid - he fucked her. 

Sheer sexual jealousy made Saroja try and be a whore to him; but that was all too brief. Soon, she felt the need to become the elder, surrogate mother for the boy and that was when the distances slowly set in.

It was not to the boy's liking. It welled up in him. There was none as luscious as Saroja even though he had indulged himself fully with the maid. 

She was, in the final analysis divine. Loving her, holding her breasts, milking her, sucking her and having her do things to him - all these were a class apart.

Today he was visiting from college after a long gap. 

The entire trip of his to his uncle's place was contrived. He found all sorts of excuses to be here and saved up from his various allowances to ensure that he no one could control him and prevent this trip from happening.

He wanted that woman. And he wanted her to be the whore she once promised to be in vengeful mood.

He did not want instant gratification though he was wild in his desire for her. He wanted long, languorous hours and the time to be indulgent. She with him; he with her.

She knew him. Very well. She knew this desire lurked beneath the surface. She knew she would have to meet his desire. May not be entirely - but at some level she would have to respond. He was here only for one night. And he would not leave without sharing some form of intimacy with her. That she knew. 

The other person who was sitting in the hall with her husband was an old school friend of theirs who had come to stay the night. She did not think she would have much latitude around the house today. This was especially so because that friend Shyam knew her too well.

At various parties, Shyam had flirted with the luscious Saroja. And Saroja had played along, teasing him right up to the brink of promiscuity. And she drew the line there. She gave him glimpses of her cleavage, her thigh and parted her lips in a Monroe-esque pout to drive his imagination wild. Then she backed off. 

Shyam considered her a tease eventually. But that was not true. Saroja was merely scared to go beyond. That was then. Unknown to Shyam, Saroja had crossed all sorts of boundaries with her male relatives. Saroja felt the difference in her as she met up with Shyam today. Had Shyam noticed the difference in her? The question remained.

There was always the chance that the two men would gossip late into the night. Technically, that allowed her to be by herself. But it also meant that her husband would follow her into the bedroom and expect to find her there. This prevented her from safely putting her husband to sleep and then going into the young man's room to satisfy him.

She thought through this part while humming about the kitchen and preparing dinner and laying the table. 

The men were in animated conversation. She and her nephew were in the kitchen. Her husband kept flitting from the hall to the fridge for more beer and ice and so on. There was so much happening. And then...

"I need you," he said again, desperation in his voice. She hated that desperation. She wanted him to feel complete, confident and able to take on the world. 

She looked down. The massive erection was plainly evident. She knew that virile cock of his- so well. On the spur of the moment she dropped to her knees. She looked up at him and said, "You look out for your uncle."

He looked down at the beautiful woman kneeling in front of him, her face at his tummy level. His hard-on was at its maximum. Nothing could have made him grow larger or harder. He was already there. And yet, the sight of her heaving breasts and the look down her blouse aroused him more. 

He could not see enough of her breasts. There was no cleavage and, no slope, no parting. Saroja manni's blouse was stuffed full with her sumptuous melons. The only way to feast eyes on her was to untrap them from their confines. For now he had to be content with the upper slopes and the heavy breathing that accentuated her bounty.

She undid his trouser and lowered his underwear. Gently, ever so gently, she removed the cock from its entrapment without allowing the elastic band to hurt her young man. 

There he was, proud, arrogant, lustful and desiring all at once. 

"So professionally efficient!" he thought admiringly of the manner in which she uncovered him. 

She needed to be lower to be able to do what she planned to do next. She spread her knees wider so that her face moved lower to be level with his cock. She held the weight of his cock gently in the palm of her hand, her fingers under the whole length and below his balls.

Fluid dripped on her wrist as he flowed freely. His body went into a feverish high and he shut his eyes, savoring the feel of her fingers on him. He had longed for this so often. 

There were many many nights when he had imagined these very hands on him and masturbated himself to sleep. On other days, masturbated he again and again and again- his wanting of her never abated on certain nights. He wanted those breasts under his weight or weighing down on him. Her hair, her smell...

"Eyes open!" she hissed at him. "You are the lookout."

He opened his eyes. He looked at his uncle in the hall chatting with his friend. He looked down at her. He was just in time to see her open, wide mouth slide onto him as his aunt formed a channel with her elegant, soft fingers. Her elongated fingers were the feeder guiding her nephew's cock to the sluice gates of her mouth. 

The engulfing warmth overwhelmed him. He moved his hips in a gentle rhythm befitting the fact that the woman who was mouthing him was his own beloved manni (aunt); not the maid; nor a whore who he anyway did not have the guts to accost. 

His hands went behind her head, so that he could be gentle but sure. She slurped on his cock sucking and kissing as she slid his cock in and out, in and effort to provide him the comfort that her pussy ought to have. As she rocked back and forth her hips and knees rocked too. 

When she had widened her knees to lower her face, her thighs had spread out. Now the sheer excitement triggered by the hot cock had caused her pussy to flow. Combined with the spread, her cunt was now agape and she felt a yawning vacantness.

The sense of duty that allowed her to indulge her nephew thus, now gave way to her own desires and lust. 

But that was not her original plan. She just wanted him to get sexual relief and less desperate. 

She fucked his cock with her mouth in a manner that belied the fact that she was just an ordinary middle class housewife with a very conventional sex life. In behavior she was being more like a practised street shore. 

Her nephew's pent up sexual needs could not take too much more. He shuddered and came.

He flooded her, in copious jets even though the preceding three days he had masturbated several times over anticipating meeting his aunt. It was as if he had not cum in months. 

She squeezed his buttocks and allowed him a full release into her mouth. She took care to allow jerking around and pulsating - but not miss the fucking action her lips afforded his cock; not miss the pleasure of cumming inside her. 

He convulsed, jerked and came for many long moments. He flooded her mouth and she swallowed some, had to let some dribble down her chin into her other hand in which she held a kitchen towel. She let him splash around, managing as best as she could, not letting go of his cock.

She gave him all the pleasure her hand and mouth could. She managed the mess he created. That was her role in his life, anyway. 

This was the only thing she was going to be able to do for him and she wanted it to be completely satisfying for the young man.

As he came to standstill, she realized that regardless of whether her partner was satisfied or not, her own cunt was burning with desire.

She wiped herself, eyes firmly on the magnificent manhood still bobbing in front of her eyes. She continued to stroke him lightly, causing him to shudder and give in small driblets. He was unabated in his erection. He came, he emptied. But it stayed as hard, merely reddening under her ministrations. 

If she thought he would fit back snugly into his trousers quickly, she was mistaken.

She was also mistaken about her own needs.

Her cunt was sopping wet. Fortunately, she had panties and they soaked in her juices. But she knew she needed what she was looking at, deep between her legs. That much she knew.

LATER

His uncle pressed him into service for beer and ice. The drinks were slowing him down and Arvind got lazier and more garrulous under the influence of alcohol.

As she watched her nephew bound up and down, Saroja manni felt the hot flush in her body. She felt her nipples unfurl into an erect state and press against her now impossibly tight bra. 

"I am hot," she whimpered to the young man. 

"Shall I turn on the fan?" asked the boy innocently.

Eyes fixed on her husband she reached out and caressed the massive bulge in his trousers and said, "Hot for this," shocking her nephew.

He stared at her, looking at her heaving bosom. His throat dried as he thought of those mammaries in his mouth.

"I need you," she said to him simply, turning the narrative around.

"Get behind me," she instructed him. "I will be the lookout," this time she said positioning herself at the sink from where she could see across the hall.

She bent down and hitching up her saree and petticoat reached for the edge of her panties. She peeled her panties down and quickly stood straight. It was now around her handles. She used her feet to try and remove them completely and at some point it was stuck. 

"Remove them," she commanded her young lover, who was as if a slave. 

He knelt down and felt for the twisted nylon of the panties that were tightly sound. He pulled gently as Saroja manni spread her legs wide to help him with access. The twisted nylon was hot, damp - no, wet. He removed the panties and felt the wetness in his fingers. She was drenched.

"This is going to be tough," she said to him. "I have to bend forward and you have to come behind me. We have no time. Fuck me. Fuck me hard," she whispered urgently.

She leaned forward, and spread her legs. In her hand she fumbled with a dish.

"Slide up my saree," she instructed. "Not too much. Just enough for you to be between my legs."

He did as instructed. Her smooth lovely ass was bared to him. He kissed her there causing her to shudder.

"Don't," she said. "Don't get us in to trouble. Focus on fucking me!" she ordered him.

He undid his trousers and let out his own aching hardness. Positioning himself between her legs from behind, he guided his cock. His fingers were met by her guiding hand as she brought him to the gates of her hot, heavenly pussy.

He sank in. the heat was incredible and he luxuriated in the feeling. He closed his eyes and stayed put.

"Fuck me! Move!" she pleaded in desperation.

He did. He slid out just a bit and hammered home into her. His pulling out was very, very limited for he did not want to pop out, but his moving into her was ferocious and determined.

His powerful fucking jolted her and Saroja thanked her stars for planning this right. The dish she had picked up to make a pretense of being at work clattered down into the sink as she gripped the sides of the workspace to steady herself.

"All well?" asked a concerned voice from the hall.

"Yes, yes," she stammered, "I have him here to help me."

Both men from the hall glanced toward the kitchen ad saw that the young man was somewhere behind his aunt.

They could not make out that he was close behind her and deep inside her.

As soon as the men looked away, she fucked back at him. "Harder!" she commanded him.

She leaned further to allow the trunk of his cock to slide on her clit. She shuddered as this happened.

"Be steady and hard," she told him.

He set the pace. She appreciated how closely he followed her instruction. 

Now she angled her body, using him like he was a machine for fucking. 

Guaranteed that his flesh would maintain the rhythm and momentum, she made sure it caressed, stroked and worked very part of her cunt. And then she bent lower so it consistently raked the inside top of her love canal. It brought her to a shuddering series of orgasms that flooded onto the both of them.

"I want your breasts," he moaned.

"No. We will be spotted," she said, clinically. She panicked at the thought he might reach for her breasts. Yes she needed his hands on her. But she just could not afford the risk. Yes she wanted her nipples pinched in his fingers but she could not open her blouse - she would be spotted.

Hell, she could not even pleasure her own self fully for the men in the hall might see her pinching, caressing and twisting her own nipples.

She groaned, somewhere between pleasure and denial.

She wanted more. He wanted more. Her orgasm ran its course and she was ready for more fucking. He had not cum. She thought he could. It would have given her a sense of closure. But he did not. It was not twenty minutes since she had mouthed him to an orgasm. 

He was close, but not quite.

When she had orgasmed he had found it necessary to slow down to make sure he stayed inside her. 

Now, he picked up the rhythm, ready to go all the way to his own cumming.

And then his uncle stood up to get some more ice.

Saroja decoupled from him and turned around to face him, her back to ward her approaching husband. 

She looked down and saw the unabated erection, now completely slick with their combined juices. With difficulty, he contained himself back in his under garments and pulled up his trousers making a quick exit to the store to the side.

Saroja turned back to the basin and splashed water on her face, obscuring her hot flushed state from her husband. Not quite unmindful of her he brushed past to the fridge. Even that light touch with her own husband caused her to shudder as her highly aroused state made her vulnerable.

She walked into the storeroom on unsteady legs to find her nephew pretending to get some spices.

"We need each other," she said, her voice and eyes laden with lust. A quick glance at his crotch confirmed to her that he was going to be always read for her tonight. Or any night; or day.

STILL LATER

She now shuffled plans around in her head. She could barely control her body and she knew the young man could only be in a worse state than her. She needed her husband in bed before her. She needed to control the events from here. Only then could she sneak into her nephew's room. It would not do to leave these two men gossiping. 

She brought out a couple of glasses and a new bottle of red wine. She could always rely on her husband's low alcohol tolerance and knock him out.

"Here's to friendship," she announced, handing the new expensive bottle to the friend. Her husband was surprised for he knew she had wanted to preserve that for a special occasion. She has stopped him from opening it more than once. Anyway, Shyam was a special friend so why not.

"Let's raise a few toasts," she said, her mind working fast. She knew that if Arvind had a few quick glasses it would hit him hard. 

Within ten minutes they had downed three glasses. It did nothing to Shyam but her own husband had started to slur and slouched in back in his sofa.

"What about dinner?" asked Shyam.

"Whenever you guys want it," replied Saroja.

"But look at his state," said Shyam.

"Well, you know him!" said Saroja. Her own pallo had slipped revealing the front of her blouse. Her breasts were indeed swollen and her blouse was fuller than ever. Also, the influence of alcohol on her and her own encounter with her nephew minutes before had made her redden.

"But I obviously don't know enough of you," said Shyam suggestively, eyeing Saroja's seductive form as she slouched on the sofa too, next to her husband.

"How do you mean?" she asked.

"Unless I am terribly mistaken, I think you are quite intimate with that young man there," he nodded at Shyam, still working in the kitchen. 

"Yes, we are close," she admitted.

"You and I are close, too," said Shyam, moving across and plonking himself next to her. Their thighs were now touching, side by side.

It was true. They were close. 

She poured him more wine. She needed him asleep too.

"Is this the only way to drink wine?" asked Shyam flirting with her even more openly as her husband started to snore gently.

As he continued rubbing his thigh against hers, her own aroused state did not help. She felt her cunt ache more and more with every passing moment.

While she would have been quite content to fuck her husband for her own satiation on any other night, tonight was thirsty for Sundar. And she needed Shyam out of the way.

Scientists have written volumes on how males and females signal each other. All that science could not have conjectured that Shyam had picked the scent of Saroja's arousal without even knowing it and now he was in an aroused state. 

Saroja kept pouring him wine not knowing that unlike her own husband, wine was an aphrodisiac for Shyam. It extended his "staying" power. 

Saroja would discover that only later, right now she had Shyam slouching on her and she was pressed between husband and friend. Shyam was now leaning on her, his face brushing against her bosom. Unwittingly, his lips were grazing the rock hard nipples within the layers of her clothing. 

She tried to push him back and murmured, "I think you need to get to bed."

"Show me the way," he replied in a slur.

She spotted his overnight case in one corner of the hall and realized that the two men had directly sat down to drink on coming in from work. 

"Come," she said, getting up and picking up his case. "What about dinner?" she asked.

"Later" he replied, his eyes on her luscious ass, his mind clear about what he wanted to do with her.

She took him to his room and showed him the switches. "This is the bathroom," she said turning the light on.

He was right behind her and pushed her in.




The Guidance of Nephews Ch. 08



Her back was to the wide marble ledge in the ante room to the large bathroom. He leaned against her, allowing his chest to press against her breasts.

Her wine laden breath warmed his face.

"You have been such a tease over the years," he whispered.

"So have you she replied," her body ached for a man, any man now.

He hoisted her upon the ledge, surprising her with his strength.

She spread her legs. Far from offering resistance, she was actually willing, wanting.

That surprised him, used as he was to her wily ways of slipping away just when he was ready to make his move.

"Why?" she asked sensing his surprise. "Are you not ready?" This was Saroja at her saucy, flirtatious self.

He aggressively hoisted up her saree and reached between her legs to prepare her for his invasion. He was again surprised to find there were no panties on. He could not have known that the twisted nylon was stuffed in the pocket of the nephew as a trophy for keeps.

He undid his trousers and inflamed as he was with his arousal accentuated by the situation, he thrust into her. It was he who bellowed his pleasure. She was hot, open. Slick and waiting. A man, any man: that was her need of the moment.

He pounded into her.

"Saroja, Saroja," he gasped in pleasure. She was hot, throbbing, inviting. He tried to reach for her breasts but she stopped him. 

"Everyone is in the house," she said.

His hands grasped her ass as he hauled her onto himself. He pounded her mercilessly. The orgasm that she needed, the need for release, which allowed her to take in this man, came quick and fast. She came.

He did not.

He felt her cumming and she twisted and turned in her release. He pleasured in all of that but did not cum.

He continued to pound her, fortified by wine. Saroja was now discovering that wine had the opposite impact than what it had on her husband.

He now lifted one leg of hers over his shoulder, making her lean backward. It allowed him to sink deeper. He pounded on.

Saroja felt him open her wide with each relentless thrust. The widening splayed open her most sensitive parts and then Shyam's cock pounded on those open sensitive spots.

She threw her head about as another, new orgasm coursed through her. She pinched her own breasts through her clothes and thrashed about. Shyam's pinning her helped her to stay the course. He continued to slide in and out, enjoying her helpless cumming without missing a beat, without allowing her to slip off him, without any remorse or respite.

The second orgasm reduced her to a level of helplessness. She could not fuck him back or twist on him She thought that was the reason he had not cum still. Had she been able to fuck back and return him some of his vigor, maybe?

But no.

He now raised her other leg on his should her too. She lay back on the cool marble slab, the heat of her body contrasting the cold of the marble.

Shyam now started to pump like a piston engine. In and out, in and out.

Saroja started to whimper and moan. She had never been ravaged so thoroughly by any man.

She had done this to her nephew. But he had never found it possible to treat her like a whore. She had wanted him to that. But he had been like with the maid, not with her.

She had been with a brute of a man, strong as a bull, in her maid's husband. 

But tonight seemed different. Her thighs ached. Orgasms continued. Pleasure and fluids poured. She lost all control. Saliva dribbled out of the corner of the mouth.

Shyam was intensely concentrated now on his own orgasm. In the process Saroja become an object.

And while she could take no more, he had plenty to give and had no thought of giving her respite.

Her cunt ran in pools of juices and she gave herself up to the ravaging he subjected her to.

She was cured at last of the heat that her body had felt all evening.

She wanted it to end and the moment she felt that way coincided with the moment he flooded into her. 

He wept and sobbed her name as he came like he had not in many, many years.

He collapsed on top of her. The effect of the release and wine made him limp.

She pushed him off and stood up unsteadily.

"Go to sleep" she said. Her thighs quivered from the orgasms and the strenuous pounding she had taken. He muscles ached and her knees were weak. 

In this state she emerged into the hall

In a room where food was ready and the table laid out, her husband was on the couch, snoring. Her nephew was leaning on the counter top in the kitchen waiting for his beloved aunt to emerge.

She did not want him to see her right after her intense encounter. She made her way, wobbly on her legs where her husband lay and helped him up. Cum and juices were pouring down her legs. 

She nodded to her nephew who seemed to clearly have a few questions for her: "Eat your dinner and go to your room," she said, trying to sound as authoritative as she could in the circumstances.

Her nephew heard her very clearly. 'Go to your room'; not 'go to sleep'.

Saroja did not wait to see what he did next. She turned her back to him as she and her husband staggered to the room. Was that a large wet spot on the back of her saree or were his eyes playing tricks. Sundar could not be sure.

The couple hobbled away.

"What about Shyam?" asked her husband in a daze. 

"Gone to bed," she replied truthfully.

"Dinner?" he asked.

"He had his fill," she said, not untruthfully. "What about you?" she asked.

"First tell me how long I have been asleep on that sofa?" he asked.

"Very long," she lied.

"Then skip it," he said as they reached the bedroom door.

STILL LATER

It took her very little time to tuck him into bed. She went into her bathroom and stared at her own reflection. Her disheveled state oozed sexiness to her. She looked at her breasts, wondering that they had not received attention though both men had wanted to do so.

Her sindoor was smeared on her forehead from exertions. Her body was slick with sweat. And her pussy was soaked and her thighs streaked.

She turned on warm water in the handheld shower...

She hastened to check on her nephew. Her state of mind was somewhere between confused and concerned. In the space of one hour she had gone from keeping her nephew under control with a mouthing, to being ravaged in completely uncontrolled fashion by a friend. Every twenty minutes, one encounter. "Isn't that a little too much Saroja mami?" she mocked herself.

He was lying in bed. She just wanted to make sure he was asleep or at least ready to sleep. As she approached the form on the bed she could make out in the dim light that under the sheets, his erection was undiminished and perhaps lying in wait for her.

She felt the tingling soreness from Shyam's marauding and felt unprepared to take on her nephew's vigor. Just 45 minutes ago she was begging him to fuck her hard, harder! But now, Shyam, having achieved his lifetime fantasy of fucking her had left her worn out.

There was no way for Sundar to know that the aunt who had told him of their mutual need had been fucked so. But he had his doubts.

"What took you so long in uncle's room?" he asked, his voice quavering. He sounded upset; perhaps he had an inkling of what had gone on. It would have to be a guess. She was very sure he had not entered the guest bedroom, not spied them.

She did not know how to answer him. She could not have explained the half an hour or more that she took. And she did not know if he noticed her state but she did not think she could say anything convincing to him.

Instead, in one swift motion, she came atop him, straddling him.

"You wanted my breasts, didn't you?" she offered him his most desired feast.

His action surprised her: he grabbed the top of her blouse and ripped down the hooks. Her bra-encased breasts were now open to him. Roughly, he felt her flesh. She reached behind and unhooked the bra. His hands slipped under the cups and he grasped the mounds. He kneaded them vigorously, feeling her warm body and the not-so-erect-now nipples.

She responded to his ministrations with a low guttural moan. There was something about this young man. There was a passion and a desire in his touch that her body instantly warmed to. They had wanted each other so badly and the two quick encounters had merely been appetizers.

Her desire to have her young nephew, her student, make love to her, resurrected the seductress in her. 

She hunched her shoulders to slip off her bra and in one swift move cast it aside. Then reaching down to her young lover she pulled his head to her breasts and offered him her nipple: first one and then the other.

The young man slathered the nipples with his tongue, and nibbled and pulled on them preparatory to suckling on her.

"So much better than giving space to loose talk," she thought as she fed him and rocked back and forth. Once again, the movement caused her to juice up. 

"Incredible! I haven't been so sexually charged and ready since ... since the last time I loved Sundar!" she thought. Yes, that was true. He brought out the woman in her like her own husband had not.

It was something to do with the maternal warmth and the need to nurture. But also that she was older and warmer than when she was a new bride in Arvind's arms. 

Her mature experienced body seemed a perfect match for this young man's vigor and for whom she had such deep feelings. And while Shyam's vigor belied his age, where were the feelings? It was raw animal sex that had been good but, not, as she lovingly caressed Sundar's mop of hair she thought, like this.

Sundar was lost in the luscious breasts. He sucked, nibbled and caressed her intensely. She raised herself and deftly removed the fold of her saree. It fell around them and when she sat down again there was but one layer of the chiffon, but oh! What a barrier it was.

The couple attacked the obstacle with vigor and the saree was all but ripped out from between them.

Then, holding the upright cock - undiminished in more than two hours now, she marveled; but then so was she - she fisted it gently to prepare it to enter her.

She sank down on him and for the first time that evening she had him fully in her. Nothing tentative or temporary; all of him, all the way in. The fullness of his hard erection for her was justly rewarded only now.

He snuggled between her breasts with his face as she rocked upon him, taking her own pleasure from the cock sliding up her pussy.

Then she pushed him on his back and stayed up, breasts proud and jiggling as she continued with her rocking motion. Just when she thought that their passion for each other had conquered all, he surged up, fucking her with a vigor that seemed to reflected rage.

He gritted his teeth, held her up by her breasts and rammed up so hard and so fast that she howled with pleasure. Her breasts reddened with the pressure of his fingers and she feared that her cunt, sore from Shyam's pounding might be torn asunder. 

Instead, the surge of new pleasure inside her welled up and a flood of juices poured down, lubricating the channel. She wailed and sobbed his name over and over and kept asking him as to what made him so furious.

He did not reply in any other way but to fuck her like an animal. Her body gave up and she fell into a spell of uncontrolled spasming, collapsing on top of him in a heap.

He pushed her over and uncannily, prized her apart in exactly the same way Shyam had 30 minutes ago. He flung her leg over his shoulder and pounded into her. He jolted her body with his thrusts and she begged him to treat her softly, gently: was she not his manni?

At this, he drew back fully, and as if stabbing her with an intent to punish her thrust hard once. Then slowly he drew back again - and again pounded her once hard with a fury. And again; and again; and again.

It was as if he was hell bent on punishing her. But he only ended up rewarding her with a series of orgasms that reduced her to a bubbling mass of flesh. In desperation she reached between and ringed his cock. Sundar, already on the brink of loss of control gasped as his cock melted and he emptied into her for the third time that evening.

He collapsed on top of her almost instantly falling into a doze. 

It was a while before they awoke. She stirred when she felt something moving against her ass. He had been sleeping spooned into her, hands around her breasts and cock semi flaccid against her back. She wiggled back at him and felt it grow to its fullest grandeur.

She smiled sleepily, marveling at the stamina of youth. Her sleepiness did not last long as she felt him push and prod at her. He was nowhere near penetrating her but was feeling his cock squeezed between her buttocks. They were soon slick with his secretions and he started to pump at her, as if fucking her.

She smiled to herself, a lot more awake and raised her upper leg to reach under and behind to where his cock was making its futile attempts. She held him and pulled him downward. Simultaneously, Sundar angled his body pushing back from her while holding on to her breasts. 

His cock slid in effortlessly into the nest of her cunt. She gasped and reached back for him. But his torso was nowhere near her. At best she could grab his buttocks and urge him on to fuck her.

He held her breasts one in each hand and pulled her to him as he fucked in. and milked them, leaving the nipples alone as he pulled back. In he went, and he pulled her breasts in. As he drew out, his hands milked the large mammaries.

She sighed contentedly at the smoothness of the action of his cock as well as that of his hands. He was treating her good and she was enjoying it. She yearned to yield milk from those massive tits as he massaged and squeezed for it. She also wanted to milk his large cock as it pistoned in and out of her.

"Fuck me!" she murmured silkily in the dark. It excited Sundar no end that his aunt was delirious enough in pleasure to talk dirty to him.

He fucked harder and started to jerk and convulse as he emptied into her. She pulled his ass close to her, keeping as deeply embedded into her as she could, feeling pleasure as he pulsed inside her, deep inside her.

As before, they fell asleep in their pleasure and exhaustion. She awoke again and pushed him aside to try and get up to leave. It must be in the early hours and she wanted to be back in her bedroom before her husband awoke.

But Sundar held her back. When she became forceful he slid down and pushed his head between her thighs. He licked and searched with his tongue and lapped at her pussy.

"No!" she begged him. "I need to be back," she said.

"You need more of me," he said, using the tip of his tongue to lash at her clit. She sighed helplessly and fell back, spreading her legs wide. His fingers invaded her and curled up to massage the inside upper wall of her cunt. His tongue was unrelenting.  

She pinched her own nipples hard and helplessly as he squeezed an orgasm deep from her cunt. She squirted, groaning, moaning and pressing against him hard. She drenched his face and the sheets below with her amber liquid. And then suddenly, she really could take no more and pushed him away.

In the dim light she stared at his wet face in fascination. She looked down and found his manhood back at full attention. Her cunt was sore and she could take no more of him. 

She reached down and gently massaged the pillar of flesh, increasing her stroking till he was gurgling with pleasure. Then, in a calculated move she brought her lips to the bottom of his cock and sucked on him as her fist worked faster and faster. 

"Manni!" he screamed as his cock spurted and his cum streamed into the air and fell back on him and her. She covered the spewing cock with her mouth and milked him with her lips and tongue till his jerks slowed down. Wiping her lips on his torso she moved up to his face and asked him, "What has made you so mad today?"

He caressed her hair and said, "I came here only to be with you like this."

She kissed him and he kissed her back. His hands reached for her breasts to knead them. She slid her leg between his legs. They held each other in a tight embrace and fell asleep again. 

They seemed to sleep only enough to gain the energy needed for another go at each other.

It was the sound of the milkman ringing the doorbell that woke her up next. She could not find her bra. Nor her blouse. She could see her saree but it was hopelessly intertwined with the sheets and was partly under Sundar. 

She remembered that her panties had been on the kitchen floor when Sundar had taken her from behind. The doorbell was ringing incessantly and Saroja worried that her husband might get up to answer it.

She wrapped herself in a bed sheet and quickly left the room to attend to the door. She was completely sleep deprived and sore from the sexual celebration that had begun the previous evening and gone on through the night.

She was glad the three men would be gone in the next few hours. She might then get some rest during the day.