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.
