It was a warm summer day, when I got the phone call. It was my wife, Sonu, and she was weeping inconsolably. There was news from Bombay. Her father had passed away in a car accident near Pune. Three hours later we were on a London to Bombay flight, to reach for the funeral as soon as possible.
My name is Vinayak, Vinayak Pandit, but folks back in London, call me "Vinu". I had been married to Sonu, who is 19, for about a year when her father passed on. Actually girls in our community are married off quiet early, so I guess same goes for my mother-in law Reema. She is barely 37 and looks a scandalous 25. Many times I would tease my wife about her gorgeous mom and receive mischievous glares in return. Sonu knew I had a crush on her mom and would vigorously tell me, how her mom had always remained loyal and devoted, inspite of having such a unfaithful husband.
But now, of course, there was the funeral. The next few days, as far as I can remember passed away in kind of a blur. Reema was extremely dignified and calm during the mourning period. A tall, slender lady with kajal rimmed eyes looking on with a certain tranquility at the unfolding events. I must admit, Reema`s arresting appearance only accentuated the effect. She had been stripped of all effects of a married woman, no bindi, no mangalsutra, no sindoor and yet she was looking extremely stunning.
We were slowly coming out of this shock of such a untimely death, when more troubles started unraveling. The father -in- law had borrowed far in excess of his means, taking loans heavily for business and pleasure, putting even his own house on mortgage. This whole muddle would now require, at least, a few months of paperwork, before things could be cleared.
Until now, I had always been a bit shy and diffident with my Reema, but now suddenly I was the man of the house. Over a period of time a certain closeness developed between us, she would be always looking up to me for guidance and courage.
Three months had passed by now, and my wife had to go back for her job. It was now decided that I would I would stay back with mom in law, help her with the business transactions and then bring her with me to London. Even if Sonu noticed a growing proximity between me and the Mom in law, she didn't seem to bother, as a matter of fact encouraged it.
"Take good care of mamma" she winked to me, when Reema and me, went to drop her at the airport.
Reema has a rather very fetching nose, curved and well formed, gives her a very naughty appearance if you ask me.. Her eyes are pools of innocence, her complexion wheatish, and lips full and luscious. Her hair is grown straight till her waist, perfectly accentuating her round face.
But what really moves me about her most didilicious female body she carries, curvaceous and shapely, she could have killed old guys with a delicate thrust of her arse. I remember during my marriage ceremony my mother in law, while moving backwards, actually rammed into my dick ( quite by accident ) and left me with an embarassing erection for next half an hour. It was the softest rump I had ever felt. There is a bit of baby fat around her hips, the only evidence of age, yet a delicate slim slender waist. I know her boobs size is actually a 36-C, as Sonu had once told me. You can easily visualize her as one of those divine stone sculptures in Khajurao, entwined in amorous delights with a enchanted lover.
While returning back from the airport, these were the thoughts racing through my mind, while I was walking behind her ogling at her delicious posterior, her ass cheeks moving up and down, with every step she was taking.
While we were just outside the apartment door, Reema, turned around and looking me in the eye, waited for me to catch up with her. She spotted that that look in my eyes, and knew what I was upto, but quickly controlled herself.
"Vinu, I am just going to be a burden on you from now on. My life is so useless. Why don't I just k--".
She broke off in mid sentence and walked into her room, locking her door. I went into my room, tearing off my T shirt, when it hit bang in the middle.
"Why don't I just k--"
I ran to her room, knocked on the door. No reply. I tried rotating the lock, it was jammed. Finally I started banging on her door, yet she was refusing to open her door. Eventually I managed to break open the door, to find her totally doused in kerosene, on verge of striking a matchstick. What followed later was absolute mayhem, a violent tussle, fisticuffs, and eventually she was in my arms sobbing like a child. Next few minutes I comforted her, cooling her down.
What happened next was unbelievable for both of us. I walked with her to the bath room, telling her to remove her clothes.Reema refused, asking me to leave the room. I wasn't prepared to leave her alone in any room. Eventually I turned on the shower and pulled her pallu, removing her saree.. Snaking my arms around her waist, I undid her petticoat and told her to remove her blouse. She submitted dutifully. Inserting my fingers at the edge of her panties, I simply pulled them down, and then unfastening her bra hook. I turned her around, to look her in the eye, removing her bra at the same time. Reema stood under the shower completely naked, soaping herself, while I was just watched. Drying herself, I made her wear a fresh night gown, taking her in my arms, comforting her.
She spent that entire night, in my arms, talking, and was in good spirits when sleep finally caught up with us.