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This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. THIS WORK CONTAINS ADULT MATERIAL, INCLUDING EXPLICIT SEXUALITY. IF SUCH MATERIAL OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DO NOT READ FURTHER.
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"You've been very kind," Sunita murmured.
"Auntie, please don't say that. You're my best friend's mother. It's my
duty
to help you."
"I wish there was some way I could thank you."
"There's no need."
Sunita smiled gently, looking at the handsome nineteen-year-old youth. The same age as her son, they'd been childhood friends. How they'd grown, she thought. He wasn't a kid any more; he was a young man, confident, poised, strong and, yes, sexy.
She looked at Vinod again with renewed interest, her pulse quickening slightly, feeling a rush of excitement, a knot in her belly. Yes, sexy, most definitely sexy. She wondered if he had any sexual experience.
It was crazy. She couldn't be thinking like this. He was her son's age, she'd known him since his infancy, she couldn't be thinking of him as a lover.
Then again, why not? She was in her late thirties, she had a sex drive and it wasn't like he was a blood relative or anything. It wouldn't be incest.
He stood just under six feet, lean and dark with fine straight features. His shoulders were wide, the torso hard and tough with a flat belly and a broad chest. His shirt was open low and she knew he didn't have much body hair. She liked that. His hips were high and narrow and his limbs were long and muscular. She wondered if he had a sizable penis; she liked well-hung men. Certainly the bulge in his crotch was promising.
"You must be hot," she murmured. "We've been out in the sun a lot. Why don't you have a quick wash and change, you'll be more comfortable. Then I'll fix you something cool to drink."
"Thanks, I think I will," he said. "I need to bathe."
"Come, I'll show you the bath."
She led him to the servant's bath, gave him a thin towel, a cake of cheap soap, a bucket and a tumbler.
"The door doesn't lock, by the way, but don't worry about it. There's no one else home."
"Okay." The boy didn't seem embarrassed. Evidently he trusted her.
Sunita left him. Back in the servant's room, she stripped off the bra under her blouse, dropped her panties under her
sari
and even dropped the petticoat, deftly re-wrapping the
sari
so that it tucked in on itself, wrapped around her narrow waist. She wore it low, well under her navel, just above her crotch, high on her hips. Already her breasts were turgid, her stubby nipples stiff with excitement.
She heard the water running in the bucket, heard the splash, the slap and squelch of soap on wet flesh. Taking a deep breath, she went back to the bath, softly opened the door. He was squatting, balanced on his toes, sluicing water over his back and head with the tumbler, his back to her and she stopped for a moment, sucking in her breath in excitement as she took in the sharp V of his body, the strength of his muscles rippling under his taut skin. He hadn't stripped fully, was still in his small, tight briefs and she saw how firm and tough his buttocks were. God, she wanted him!
She picked up the ends of her
sari
and folded it up, tucking it into the waist to keep the bottom from getting wet. It showed her legs to above her knees.
"Here, let me do your back," she said, taking the tumbler from his hands. "It needs a good scrub."
"Auntie!" he gasped in shock.
"Shut up, idiot," she said in mock anger, but smiling. "How long have I known you? I cleaned your bum when you were six months old, remember?" Not waiting for a response, she began soaping his back vigorously. "There, that's better, isn't it?"
The boy succumbed. "Mm, yes. I can
never
reach there!"
She ran the soap over his shoulders, down his back to his waist, up again, and then began to scrub it with a damp washcloth, her body bent forward over his.
"Stand up," she said. "I'm too old to keep bending like this." Her hands were at his waist, just above his briefs. She hesitated for a second, and then took the plunge, slipping her hands into them, over his buttocks. He froze, wriggled, and tried to break free. "Stop jumping about," she snapped as if there was nothing amiss. "C'mon, take them off."
"Auntie, no!"
"Oh, don't be silly, boy! What have you to hide from
me
? Now do as I say! C'mon, I haven't all day!"
She felt the tension in his body. Slowly, hesitantly, he hooked his thumbs in his briefs and rolled them down. Sunita stifled a moan of excitement. She soaped his buttocks, his thighs, calves, scrubbed them, moved up again.
"Now lift your arms, Vinod. And spread your feet."
The boy seemed to be in a daze. He raised his arms and shuffled his legs apart. Sunita moved closer, moved the soap and cloth under his buttocks, her fingertips touching his scrotum. The boy squirmed. She drew away, did his underarms. He relaxed, thought she had finished. She lathered the soap afresh in her hands and quickly slipped her arms around him, soaping his neck and chest and belly. He tensed again as her hands moved lower. He tried to break way but now she had her arms around him and it was too late. Her hands were in his crotch, her fingers moving up and down over his penis. She bit her lower lip. It was wonderful, better than she'd dared hope, at last seven inches long and thickening rapidly as she worked it.
"Oh god Auntie, no!" he groaned.
"Yes, Vinod. Do as
I
say. Turn around."
"Auntie, please."
"Do it, Vinod. Do it because I ask you to. Please."
Trembling, he turned around and they were face to face. He was a good head taller than her. She ran her hands over his body, down to his crotch again, caressing his now massive penis, looked up at him.
"Have you had a woman before, Vinod? Tell me. Have you?"
He looked at her, confusion, despair, fear and excitement all mingled in his eyes. "Yes," he stuttered. "Yes."
"Older than you?"
"No ... no ... not older."
"It's different with someone experienced."
"Auntie, please," he moaned. "Please don't." But his body betrayed him. His cock throbbed in her hand.
"Water."
"What?"
"Water. You need to rinse. You're all soapy."
The boy turned and bent to fill the tumbler. When he straightened, she had let her
pallu
drop completely, had undone all but one button of her blouse. Her swollen breasts pushed at the cloth. Her long
mangalsutra
glistened in her cleavage. Her eyes glittered with hunger, her lips were parted. She cupped and lifted her breasts, squeezing them, pressed her tongue to her upper lip. Staring at her, he sluiced the water over himself and now didn't object when she took it from him and washed his penis.
He took the tumbler from her; she stroked his cock in her fingers. He refilled the tumbler, bending sideways from the waist, then straightened and slowly tipped it over her neck and face. Sunita groaned softly, tilting her face up as the warm water trickled over her face and between her small, shapely breasts, down her back and shoulders, down her belly, soaking her clothes. She plucked at the knot of her
sari
and it came undone, fell to her feet and she took his hand in hers and pressed it to her crotch. Her cunt was wet, seeping juice and he gasped, hot and horny now, pressing his thick finger between her cunt-lips, knuckling her clitoris. Sunita moaned, arching her face and back, thrusting her breasts outward and he snapped the last button on her blouse. Her breasts bounced out and he bent his head and took one in his mouth, sucking hungrily, nibbling her stiff nipple. Moaning, she curled an arm around his head.
With a soft moan, she drew away from him, turning silently, slowly, his hand in hers and led him, wet and naked, from the bathroom to the servant's room just beyond. In the dank windowless room, she turned and kissed him hard, pushing her tongue in and out of his mouth, one arm around his broad shoulders, the other working his stiff cock.
"I'm going to suck your cock," she murmured. "You can cum in my mouth if you want. I like that."