A Thaur and His Bahu

Chapter 08: Binita has a Change of Heart

There is nothing like a long absence to cure an addiction. And Binita seemed to have taken good advantage of a prolonged absence from her in-law's place to cure herself of the lust she felt for Thakur, her husband's father.

The last time she had met with him had been on Holi, the year before last. She had avoided going with her husband Pritam for the ritual family visit on more than one occasion, including the next following Holi. Staying away on Holi in particular had been an important act of self-control for her because it was the preceding Holi where she had completely lost herself.

Her wild abandonment of all sense on that day had haunted her for long. On that day, she had been daringly dressed. All morning she was to be seen in traditional finery; but the blouse was daring in its cut, with her full back bare for all to see and her breasts cupped and held up as if for all to sample her wares.

That seductive attire had led to a rough animal taking from behind by her father-in-law which was in continuation of their explosive sexual chemistry. She then had seduced her mother-in-law, when womanly comfort melted into sexual liberation. And somewhere on the stairway an encounter with her husband's cousin. The youngster had the heat of the libertine atmosphere of Holi in his head and had chased her down to take his chances with her.

Binita, presented with a fait accompli by the lusty youngster had masturbated him into submission on the stairs, making him cum uncontrollably in her fist; she had left him thus conquered in a slobbering state with a warning that her action on that day was an exception rather than any permanent license from her to him.

It was left to the cold light of day back in the city for remorse at her actions to come gushing up. Yes, Holi was a day when much was permitted. But the history between her father-in-law and her would have to be packed and put away. It was not going to be possible to go on fucking him in one illicit encounter after another. No doubt she was the one who started it by picking a fight with him over her womanliness and the manliness of his clan. Yet equally, it was up to her to put an end to it.

The best way, she felt was to stay away and allow normalcy to return. Phone calls, letters, regular visits by her husband Pritam to his hometown all were meant to reassure that the young city dwelling couple were not drifting away from their roots. But the madness of that Holi day had to be allowed to abate.

And so it was over 18 months since they had visited. There had been changes in Prtiam over that period. After that last Holi at the ancestral home, Pritam appeared to have changed. He made love to her with a new inventiveness and with many new techniques which surely someone had taken the trouble to teach him. He made up for his slender dimensions with a new vibrancy to his approach to her. Something seemed to have tipped him off on the quality of their sexual intercourse. She loved him too much for that to matter, yet he clearly tried more, wanted to do more. And either he had read up on it or learnt it.

Some of the things he now did made her compare notes with what his father did to her. The incongruousness of those thoughts was one more of those things which made her stay away from Thakur. But yes, his tongue between the folds of her pussy did make her think of the time when his father had drunk from between her legs as she came in torrents. And nothing could change his physical dimensions so she did feel the difference in the yawning stretch of Thakur's cock. She helped by clenching her muscles as Pritam stabbed into her with his slender cock and the mental challenge for Pritam of trying to fill her abated.

All in all, yes, there was substantial change and dramatic new angles to their lovemaking. For Binita, there was an added surge whenever she thought of how the older man carried out those same or similar acts on her. For Pritam, it was a relief that whatever Shobha Aunty had tutored him on Kamasutra was working for him. The woman had started with some simple quizzing. Shobha aunty had been the target of his adolescent lust in his growing years. Fulfillment came on that same Holi day when she started to ask him things about his sex life. The conversation soon turned to technique. And as Shobha started to tell Pritam on how to go about pleasuring a woman, Pritam's fascination for her came flooding back to him.

The older woman and her younger friend of the family had then rapidly shed clothes and she taught him how to drive her wild. She showed him the positions that made his size completely irrelevant. She showed which parts of her triggered orgasms and which parts of him to use for that purpose. And she told him to repeat all that with his wife.

Which he had faithfully done, not without lusting Shobha aunty further. The two met whenever occasion permitted and the classes and comparisons continued. She was beautiful, sexy and sumptuous. Not one opportunity was lost as she sated a deep desire in herself by tutoring him in the art of pleasuring a woman.

Binita benefited tremendously from Pritam's education and it allowed her to put the initial sexually crazed encounters with her husband's family behind her. The combination of Pritam's new skills, the distance and time lapse helped. But she could not stay away forever.

The pressure on Pritam to travel home with his wife grew and culminated in this trip when both husband and wife headed to the family home in the village.

Binita felt a bit tense as the train slid into the station. It was likely to be awkward but she took comfort from the fact that several 'normal' conversations had happened with both Thakur and Thakurain all these months gone by. Porters flashed by the train their red uniforms flapping in the breeze generated by the moving carriages. Some ran along the train to get customers. People in the crowd on the platform peered in to try spot their friends or relatives whom they had come to pick up. Some people hung out of the train to spot those on the platform.

People were waving to each other and the joy of arrival spilt from train to platform to join and coalesce with the corresponding sentiments of those on the platform. In this sea of joy and happiness was a fairly large contingent of relatives from the Thakur household. Pritam was a favorite son and his wife Binita had endeared herself to the family at large with her playfulness. Everyone wanted to be there, and every one was there. Not least the Thakur himself.

Binita felt her chest constrict as she felt her heartbeats rise. She gripped Pritam's arm tighter than she realized almost hurting him. Suddenly, she didn't want to arrive. Suddenly she felt an excitement which she knew didn't belong. Suddenly she knew that control would be difficult.

Some of the party jumped on board the now slow train to take charge of their things and soon Binita and Pritam found that they only needed to walk and had a whole set of people waiting on them hand and foot. The joy of being part of a large Thakur household was such a relief from the grind of city life!

The couple touched the feet of all elders present one by one and in traditional fashion each person accepted the obeisance and quickly gave them a hug of belonging. When Binita was hugged by her mother-in law the Thakurain, she thought she felt the woman press her to the bosom more than necessary and fingers stroke her more than needed. Perhaps it felt excessive. But perhaps it was her imagination.

But Thakur's embrace of his daughter-in-law was graphic enough for her to know it was not imagination. In the melee it was not evident to none; but Thakurain had been watching for the moment and it was not lost on her.

In rural India, cars have to be large. The larger the bigger the status symbol. And none are larger than the old American cars of the sixties. Most of the large cars in India are either those, or commercially failed / out of date models like the Contessa, Cielo and so on.

And so it was with the Thakur. He had a large American Dodge, painted in two shades of blue by the town mechanic. In keeping with his lordly status he ensconced himself in the car. Thakurain got in at the other door at the back but a cousin sister of hers prevailed upon her to push in and give her space. The cousin sister's lap held large basket of home made savories she had brought for Thakurain to feed her son.

Pritam sat in the front with the driver and next to Pritam was Yogesh, the cousin whom Binita had ended up masturbating on that Holi day. No one had particularly taken care of Binita's seating and she was about to dash off to one of the other smaller vehicles when Thakur opened his door. She could not have sat in the front, squeezed in with the young man.

It was the kind of opportunity Thakur had resolved he would not hesitate to jump upon. He had missed the vivacious girl's touch, the softness of her skin, the right sized breasts that so filled his hands, those nipples and yes, her raunchy fucking at him. He could not overtly ask for her to present herself at the household and restricted himself to the more formal requests for husband and wife to come home to make a full family.

In reality, on at least one occasion he had planned a visit to the city to stay with his son so that he could fuck Binita. But it never worked out. His pent up lust for the younger woman found expression in a wild, rough and brutal fucking of his various women. Thakurain rode, literally, the storm in his fucking. The maids ended up with mauled breasts, bruised thighs and sore cunts as he pounded them in frustration.

They enjoyed, as they always did, Thakur's unmatched vigor. But they did enjoy the slapping; the digging in of nails and the way he held them brutally wide open when he now fucked them. They went away with aching limbs and sore bodies. They were unable to let their husbands see their bare bodies for a few days for the marks were so obvious; they were also quite content and no need of further fucking. Just as they were ready to succumb to their husbands, it was Thakur's turn to catch them again. And so the cycle went.

Every time he fucked one of them, he imagined it was her. He closed his eyes and felt in his mind, her response to him. The laughing, the fucking back, the sexual wrestle of cock and cunt and all of that sent him soaring.

When the imagination could do that much, how much would real physical, proximity do? The question was on their minds as the door swung open in Thakur's silent invitation. She looked at him and then at the seat; there was no space for her. She glanced at the front of the car. Then she looked back at Thakur. That look could have meant either of two things: "I cannot sit in the front, nor in the back, can I? There is no space" or "Do you really except me to sit on your lap with my husband sitting there in the front?"

Thakur shifted in, pushing against his wife. It was going to be a squeeze, but that was the point. Pritam saw his wife's dilemma. He wanted to step out so a rearrangement could be carried out. But his cousin with that bag on his lap blocked him. As he started to explain to Yogesh as to why he needed to step out, Thakur made a small space available to Binita. He patted the seat and said, "Here, there is enough space here."

It was not enough. In that space, she would have to half sit on Thakur. He knew that. As the car engines revved up Binita knew she had to jump in to one vehicle or the other. Pritam beckoned to her asking her to get in where his father was showing place was available.

And so it was. She squeezed in and shut the door, trying to lean more on the door than on Thakur, her face flushed. Her right leg was against his left leg and they were tightly squeezed. She needed to lift her right leg and it went up on his left leg; that was the only way they could have sat.

As the car lurched forward, Binita put her arm on the window of the back door and tried to hang out of the car window as best as she could. Her arm was wrapped around the bar between the front and back windows of the car. Her face felt the wind cooling it, which was just as well; she was red hot from the embarrassment of being crushed against this man.

So long as her leg was on this side of his knee, with every jolt and jerk it only rubbed. Now that was bad enough because it send tingling sensations up her leg. But she was happy it was not on the other side of his knee, where a slide down would mean touching his cock. She could not have handled that.

The feelings in Thakur were quite to the contrary. He had no inkling of his daughter-in-laws guilt pangs over their sexual encounters. It had been a quiet thing and they never talked about it. So as far as he could tell, that was how it remained. Heat, chemistry and succumbing to desire when circumstances permitted; but perfect silence otherwise.

And so when he let his left hand drop and stroke Binita's left thigh, he was only following their rules of engagement. As others chattered about, Thakur kept quiet; he often did speaking only when orders were to be conveyed. Binita had kept quiet by keeping her head out of the window.

When she felt the hand along her thigh she tensed and became stiff. Thakur's hand slid over the thigh, concealed by the flow of her kurta. He felt the soft insides of her thigh. Alas, space would not let him find her pussy, the place which he thirsted to suck in.

She reached down and gripped his hand in a firm signal to him to stop. Thakur moved his hand back where she could not follow it, but at least he was off her thigh. What she didn't realize was his intention to caress her ass and when he did this she could not reach behind and stop him. She gasped as the squeezing made her tremble but she gripped the door hard to steady herself. Thakur's hand searched for the top of her churidar, under the kurta so he could touch the flesh of her midriff, flesh he longed to feast on.

Fingers closed on her torso, rough large hands on her hot, soft skin. The man was mad and needed stopping. She gripped his hand through her top, feeling those fingers between hers through the garment. Thakur tried to reach upward and feel the curve of her breast but met stiff resistance from her hand.

This was unlike her but perhaps she was tense about others being around.

His hand went back down, cupping her ass, this time more fully, his fingers probing, almost finding the lower end of her cunt. Binita clenched her muscles and shifted to make her ass inaccessible. She moved over his thigh and thwarted his attempt at touching the folds of her cunt. She was now sitting firmly on his thigh. Thakur moved his left leg outward, occupying the space vacated by her coming on to his left thigh.

Binita's right leg was now between his legs and had crossed his knee. As Thakur's hand roamed her body, his arousal was complete. It was no wonder then that when Binita's right leg slipped a bit more, it touched his cock. Indeed, from the deep recesses of his groin, it had reared upward, throbbing and taut. Binita felt it distinctly against her thigh. She tried to move herself forward so that she would not be in contact with it. She feared the contact, not from fear of the cock and its threatening dimensions, but from fear of her own response and desire to have those dimensions accommodated inside her.

Binita gripped the door pillar with one hand and rested her hand on the seat in front of her. As she did so, her hand touched Yogesh who was sitting directly in front of her. The young man had his own set of memories of that hand and leaned back, trapping it between the seat and his shoulder blade. She moved herself forward, putting some distance between herself and the cock. But the movement started something anew; her pussy lips were spread and smeared against the broad thigh of Thakur which was under her. As she rocked forward to make that distance, she ended up grinding herself against.

The ripple through her and the moistness was not lost on Thakur. He felt the warmth of that confined space between her legs upon his thigh. To his mind, she was merely grinding herself for relief. He could not have been farther from the truth. But the forward prone angle of her body allowed him to more access to her ass. He caressed her under the kurta now with both hands, feeling her up. He thrust his hip upward, this time snagging his cock in the cleavage of her ass; he wanted her to feel his mad arousal.

Binita was horrified; she did not want to feel him at all, but less in the crack of her ass. Had she not been clothed he might have penetrated her in one orifice or the other. Frantically she reached down with her right hand, knowing fully well that this was risky; her mother-in-law was sitting on the right and might well spot her.

Whatever the risk, it was better she intervene. Otherwise, the risk of being prodded deep and allowing him to think that this was okay was only worse. She reached down and grabbed his cock. With the meat of the pillar in her fist she pulled it down and brought it back from between her legs to the side. Her fist was overfull with his erection and she hated herself for noticing his size, rather than being clinical about the removal.

He shuddered at the pleasure rendered by her grip, by her moving his cock down, which made was against its natural upward incline and pulled to the right. The frisson ran through the frame of his body as he hated the dhoti which prevented her from holding his flesh, skin on skin. He thrust forward, fucking her fist.

Her hand opened quickly, leaving his cock unfulfilled from the push. She felt the heat against her thigh but suddenly that seemed preferable to the other angle she had ended up offering him. The grinding of cunt against his thigh, feeling his cock, and thoughts of what was happening between him and her, made her hot and bothered. And it was matched up by a shamelessly flow that had commenced between her legs. She hated herself and swore never to find herself alone with him in the short stay ahead.

His left hand had more scope for movement that his right. He stroked her stomach and came up against her breast, feeling the unyielding material that formed the underside of her bra; God how he wanted to feel her! His hand moved up and took hold of her breast, something which he had done several times while fucking her in every way that he knew.

She was aghast. She brought her hand to his hand and caught it under her garment. She had to apply force to get a grip of his fingers. That force led her to press his hand upon her own breast. He kneaded. She pushed his hand down. His rough coarse hands pawed at her flesh and the pressure from her hand made sure the nipple was caught and rolled as his hand was forced down. The stretching and rolling of her nipple was painful but even as she bit her lip to stifle a cry she felt as if they were ready to moisten with milk. Binita was startled to feel that for the first time ever in her breast.

Soon she had his hand down but it came to rest on her thigh once again. This time she let him knead and stroke her thigh; once again it was more preferable than the wildly arousing kneading of her breast and stroking of her torso. And so the ride continued, with his cock grazing her right leg and his hand stroking her left thigh. The bumps and knocks from the road lifted her off him but dropped her back on the thigh she was riding. Binita felt the pleasure from the grinding and rotation of her pussy on the hard thigh below her.

She hated herself for it but her body had a mind of its own. It was that part of her which she had avoided letting out for so many months. It was that part of her which she knew not to trust. It was that part of her which she was determined not to allow, even though circumstances had put her in such a situation in the car. Binita was relieved as the car drove in through the gates of the haveli. The car disgorged its occupants but Thakur would not open his door. Binita scrambled across to the door from which her mother-in-law had left the car, but Thakur held her back with an iron grip on her wrist.