CHAPTER I: Suckling Aunt
I am Venkat. That Sunday morning in May was a fateful one for me. It was on that day that my uncle's wife with her four-month-old baby came into our home in Conjeevaram, in Southern India, for a three-month stay. My town is the home of the world-renowned colourful brocaded silk saris. My grandfather was a weaver of the saris, and three of his four sons follow their father's trade. My father, the youngest, markets the products. He takes samples to retail outlets in Madras 60 kilometres away and takes order from them on behalf of many producers in the town. I do not want to get into this family business. I want to study and become an engineer. After schooling I am in college studying mathematics and physics. At nineteen I am rather old for my class. That was because I joined school late. I am top in the class though, and I am sure to get a seat with scholarship in the government engineering college in Madras. Little did I know that the guests who were coming in for a short stay would blast my hopes.
My uncle is from Arani, a town fifty miles away, also known for saris, though Arani saris are inferior in quality to Conjeevaram ones. He was on the way to Dubai to work in a cloth shop. He needs three months to get visas to take his wife and child with him. He requested my mother, the eldest of his many sisters, to look after his wife and baby in his absence. My mother readily agreed. This uncle is her favourite little brother.
Our house is a small one. On the ground floor there is one large room that we call the hall. At one end is the kitchen. The way to the first floor is by a very narrow and steep stairs. There are two rooms in that floor with a common narrow veranda. My father and mother use the hall. My room is one of the first floor rooms. The other is vacant. My uncle left the same evening to Madras to board the plane to Dubai. His wife and baby settled in the hall, but the smoke from the wood fire in the kitchen filtering into the room was more than the baby could stand. My aunt was willing to take up the vacant room on the first floor. But the problem was that she could not have my mother's help to look after the baby. My mother had severe arthritis of the left hip and cannot climb up the steep stairs. My aunt said she would be able to manage if I could give her a helping hand from time to time. I said I could. I was on vacation then and had all the time in the world to be of help to her.
The arrangement worked well. In the mornings my aunt took the baby down; after lunch she came up and again in the evening stayed down till dinner. I liked the little boy. He was very comfortable with me. I rocked the cloth cradle and whenever possible I carried the little one. My aunt is a very friendly person. At first she used to cover herself with a sari when feeding the baby, but as days went by she was freer. I liked to watch those big breasts and the swollen nipple that the little boy munched. Yes, to me it appeared that he was making a hearty meal of the mother's nipple!
One afternoon I was dozing in my room when I heard the baby whimpering. He never cried lustily. I went to investigate. My aunt was reclining on the cane chair soundly asleep. Her hand holding the baby's head was resting on the arm of the chair and the baby was too low to have contact with the nipple. No doubt he was complaining. I placed my hand on the head and neck of the baby and held him up. That was not enough. I had to bring the nipple to the mouth. I gingerly held the breast and lifted it up. The baby grasped the nipple and started its chewing act. The breast was soft and spongy and I found myself becoming hard. I was ashamed that I had allowed such feelings towards an aunt.
It needed great concentration to hold both the baby and the breast, crouching as I was by the side of the chair. I was so focussed on my job that I did not notice aunt. When I did so after a while I had a shock. She was now awake. Her large eyes were wide open, and she was smiling. She kept on smiling as I stared at her in horror at the impudence of my act. Then she slowly raised her hand and placed it behind my neck. Then she pulled up my head closer and closer towards her. She kissed me on both cheeks and then gently touched my lips with hers. To my embarrassment and guilt I was hardening again. By the sign language she indicated that I place the baby on the cloth cradle. She then beckoned to me to come near her. Still in the sign language she asked me to sit in front of her on the floor. She then came to the edge of the chair and exposed her other breast. She pulled my head towards it.
'Suck,' she said. I hesitated. She held the back of my head and pushed it towards the nipple. My closed lips were touching it.
"Suck," she said again. I caught the nipple with my lips.
'Not like that, like this,' she said and sucking her lips in to cover her teeth she bit my little finger to show me how it was done.
'Bite,' she said. I did that. Salty fluid same into my mouth. It did not taste like milk at all. I worked on the nipple maybe for a minute and then I ran away to my room. I bolted the door and lay face down on the cot in a state of utter confusion. I must have slept off for when I woke up it was late evening. I washed and went down to have coffee.
Aunt was with my mother chatting as if nothing has happened. My mother was holding the baby. I wanted to go to my room but aunt called me and made me sit down and talk with them. My mother did not notice any change in me.
That night I bolted my room and slept. Next morning when I came down aunt was already there with the baby.
"Did you sleep well?" she asked. I nodded. "I did not," she said. "Sudir was whimpering all night. I think he was missing you." I felt deeply ashamed for having let down the baby.
"To night I will look after Sudir. You can sleep," I said.
I went out. I just roamed the streets. I came home had lunch and went up. As I was crossing aunt's door she called me in. She wanted me to carry the boy for a while. She wanted to know what I did in the town that morning. I told her I went to my friend's house. I was fidgety being alone with auntie.
Quite suddenly Aunty referred to the event.
"You should not have run away like that. You are like another baby to me. You have as much right to drink milk from me as this fellow." she said. Suddenly all the suppressed emotions broke out and I started weeping. Aunty got up and took the baby from me and put it in the cradle. She then sat by my side and hugged me as she wiped away my tears.
"I am bad," I wailed. "I did not drink like Sudir. I was excited." Aunt broke into laughter.
'Have you watched Sudir when he feeds. His tiny organ becomes big too from time to time." I had observed it too.
'It is a natural reaction," she said. Then she hugged me and kissed me. I am ashamed to say that I became hard again.
"Come sit by my side," said aunt. I did so. She sat with her leg crossed as she always did while feeding the baby. I sat at the edge of the cot but aunt took hold of my shoulder and pulled my head on to her lap. In a swift movement she exposed her breasts and offered a tit to me. I accepted without any show of reluctance. I sucked just as she had taught me to. I was sexually aroused and I didn't care. Aunt took my hand and placed it on the other breast. I gently kneaded it. I felt my aunt's hand fiddling with my dothi and soon she undid it and with her soft delicate spider-like hand got hold of my hard organ and held as if it was a stick. Then she moved her hand to and for just as I do when masturbating. I was coming, and from the vigour with which I was sucking she would have known that I was indeed coming, but she continued till I poured in her hand; yet she continued till I was done. She wiped her hand in my dothi and then pulled me up and kissed me on the lips. I was too confused to respond. She made me lie on the cot; she lay beside me and she patted my bare buttocks as if I was a baby being put to sleep. I slept. It was evening when aunt woke me up. She kissed me again on the lips and then asked me to go to my room. I took my dothi and wrapped in round went to my room. I had no feelings of guilt this day.
