The next month I missed my periods. Yes! I was pregnant. And when I told to my young lover, "Ali, do you know I'm pregnant? I'm going to be a mother at the age of 38."
"Oh! No, I don't know, what a good news this is." Then asked, "Who's father of the baby?"
"Who other than except you? You're, only you're, you made me pregnant." I replied.
"Oh Bhabi I'm so proud of it," Ali replied with excitement.
"I'm sure you will love this but I can't keep your child in my womb. I need to abort it. Already I'm mother of three young children. Moreover my husband will surely come to know about our affair." After long arguments Ali took me to a doctor and I secretly aborted.
The story happened about a year before. I am 39 now and even now; I considered being attractive and have always taken good care of myself. I certainly could compete with the younger women in the family.
I'm proud to say most men find my pretty face attractive, but my breasts, bit fatty stomach, and especially my firm, wide and fleshy bottom and muscular thighs get the most attention, although I has to admit I've never really dressed to show them off. My breasts were still firm and my nipples hard with an ache to be kissed and sucked and pinched. I'm not really old fashion but I normally used to be in the traditional Indian shilwar (traditional baggy trousers) qameez (traditional long lose shirt). I still had a slim girlish figure although this was hidden in a baggy shilwar and lose qameez. I had long black hair to my hips and large black eyes, and my body was voluptuous and smooth. My husband is a successful businessman so it hasn't really been necessary for me to work. He earns a lot so he has insisted that I will take care of the house. We have two daughters and a boy. They both were in the school.
Ali is a distant relative of my husband. He might be around 21, highly energetic and masculine. Ali used come to our house. He is a good-looking person with good body and very charming face and a lovely, warm smile. I observed him for a long time, every detail of him, his dark black hair falling over his eyes, the muscles in his arms as we stretched and relaxed, his thighs and buttocks as they tensed against the tight genes that covered his body. He is very talkative by nature and cues some good jokes on the different topics. I was very much impressed with his personality. I never considered that he would be interested in a woman of my age.
As the time passed, his visit to our house became very regular. He paid to visit at least once a week on weekend and used to stay the whole day with us. He got so much intimate with my family, that every one, even my husband started to accept Ali as one among of our closed ones.
Everyday, once my children went off to school and husband to the office, I would have many hours alone at home. Now I've the company of Ali. He used to come so frequently, as he was jobless, at that time. Ali was always good to have around, helping me and keeping up some conversation. The conversations were no longer those of a young brother-in- law to a mature married sister-in- law but of two adults. I valued his ideas and listened to him. I felt to be comfortable in talking with him and often Ali used to mention that I've a good and warm voice. I felt inquisitive and asked him about his daily routines, his time-passes and other details. This sort of conversation went on regularly for about for long, as almost once in two days, he used to come and apparently his sense of humor and frankness excited me. We used to have a wonderful conversation and he told me that he wanted to have a lady elder to him, as his girlfriend. I was surprised at his statement and I said him that I too wanted a young man like him as my companion, to share my desires and to make life more relaxed. And it became routine, for me to have Ali at my house and I felt I miss him a lot at his absence.
It was after some days that I noticed that, while alone, Ali started paying more than usual attention to my breasts. Being used to living alone, I was a little careless about my dress at home and on more than a few occasions, I found him peeping and staring at me. At first I thought, it must be only my imagination but when I observed and confirmed it, it excited me too in a strange way. In order to make sure that it was so, I sometimes intentionally let the pallu of my dupata fall off while I bend to give him coffee or some cold drinks, so that he would have a good view. Invariably, his eyes would drop off and get fixed on me. I noticed that even while talking to me, his eyes made a regular stare on my succulent breasts. When he noticed my observing him staring like that, he would be embarrassed and then try not to look again. But again after some time, his eyes would repeatedly return to my boobs. After all, he is also a sex-starved young man; I thought and did not give it much thought. But since I failed to curtail those acts, it further encouraged him. Ali became bold enough to give me that lustful look all the time when he was around with me but I used to ignore his looks but still he would look longingly at my body and give me that "I want you looks". Ali is 17 years younger to me. He is fit, and shapely, not bad at all, he is about 6' tall, sexy, muscular, fair, has dark hair, and big eyes the first time I lay my eyes at him, I saw a deep lust and desire in his eyes for me, on many occasions I found him staring lustily at my tits. I liked Ali. Liked his innocent look. I knew well enough that he was far from innocent.
Ali's eyes were sending me those "I want you" messages for some time now, I was fully aware of the fact that my presence affect his cock tremendously that he is dying to fuck me, and that his dick gets erected each time I was in close proximity with him and he had eyes only for me, I saw his cock getting erected on many times when we were alone and how he tried to cover it with embarrassment. He would look admiringly at my body.
I also gave him some tough time to him by showing him some of my cleavage and my ass bending before him with some pretext. Some time I added an extra spring in my step to make sure my ass wobbled just right. I liked to tease him. I don't know why, but teasing this 21 years old boy was turning me on so much.
I then observed that Ali had hots for me. I didn't give him much response, even though I cannot completely ignore him. Ali adored me with a passion that I sometimes felt was unhealthy for a young 21-year-old man. I feel like an idiot. Whatever He's just young and immature. The reason being, though my sex life is not good, but as far as my viewpoint is concern, I was not fully happy as my husband takes sex as a routine process. As my husband is in to the business, he frequently travels in and around India and abroad also.
Because of that, the frequency of we both involving in sex had got reduced now a days. He is very rigid in his thinking and he is also very shy kind of person. He won't find sex as a pleasure of life and one has to enjoy it. He only made love once or twice in month with me. He always did some kissing and then got roused and then he fucks me without doing any foreplay. When he discharged, he just went to bed. Don't take me wrong; a woman of thirty-eight years must have sexual desires and cravings. So I wanted some thing new in this routine life. I wanted to know some of the technique of self pleasure also. Any way, my sex life since my marriage, all these years, was without much excitement. I had almost forgotten the feeling of being excited. Although I had grown to love my husband since our arranged marriage, it was hard to accept being a married-widow. I had a great sexual appetite although I was not a young girl now but past the glow of youth, have enough to feel certain natural needs, and needs that my husband now was unwilling to satisfy. But then, since Ali's entry into my life, I find more thrilled deep in my heart, about his acts. I didn't want but I was found my self always thinking about Ali and It was when I was in my bed at night; there was not a day and there wasn't a night when I didn't think about him.
But the fact that I am a married woman in a respectable family has always prevented me from succumbing into his pressure. The image of Ali was dancing through my mind It had been such a to first time in my life I had felt this way about anther man than my husband. I tried to keep my mind off of him, but it just seemed like he wouldn't go away. How did that man make me fall for him? Was I falling for this man? I was completely in love with him by now and desired him so much that I stopped making love to my husband. My lust and passion was to be for him alone. And so, every night I spilled his burning come onto the painted image of him. In bed I couldn't get to sleep, for thinking about Ali. Quietly, and quickly I fingered myself to orgasm while thinking about Ali.
We continued this game for more than year without touching each other but only teasing each other. Finally I decided to make an end to this debacle. I don't want to continue still further, with lots of confusions and hesitations in my mind. So I asked Ali to come the next day, as my husband would be away on a business trip and my children were already had gone to my mom's place for vacation. I told him that I needed to talk an important matter to him.
I asked Ali to come at around 10 pm in the morning. It was the first time I was going to meet him alone but On that day, my heart was skipping beats as I wondered whether he would come or not, and that how I would talk him. Anyway I dressed in my finest but a very simple way. A black traditionally qameez (long shirt) with white shilwar (baggy trouser) and a large white Dupatta (head and neck scarf), draped around my neck and chest to cover my chest in the most decent fashion. I wore bangles, simple earrings and a very thin and simple necklace. I have decided to appeal simpler before Ali. And I ensured that our presence should be more private and alone. So, I'd even send away the servant maid that day. Ali came exactly at the time mentioned. It was afternoon, it was raining and it was chilly when he came. He was also dressed in a very simple way. White traditionally qameez (long shirt) with white shilwar (baggy trouser). We sat and made some polite conversation where we recounted some of the topics we had spoken about previously. But my body was wet to some extent, due to the sweating as well as due to the hesitation of how to start telling him. So I started asking him naughtily, "So, what do you think of me now?"