Friends.
This is a story of a brother (Basant) and sister (Bahar) their cousin (Giridhari) and his wife (Manjula). The setting is rural India, the time, month of May. Basant and Bahar have come to the native village to spend the vacation. They meet with Giridhari and Manjula and have first taste of sex.
The story opens with Manjula telling us her version in Part 1. Later on other players will pitch in.
I have used some of the colloquial words in Hindi to maintain the flavor of the atmosphere. I hope non-Indian readers will pardon me. They are:
Lauda : Flaccid adult penis
Lund : Erect adult penis
Bhos : Vulva
Chut : Vagina
Odhani : Half saari, made of long cloth and wrapped around the body.
Ghaghari : Short flaring petticoat reaching usually up to middle of the lower leg
Choli : Skimpy tight fitting blouse
Enjoy the story and send me the feed back, please.
Vantyaak
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Namaste Ji,
My name is Manjula Bharejani. I am a happily married woman of 23 living with my husband Giridhari in a small village of Gujarat, India. Giridhari is 25, a farmer, educated up to high school and in prime of his health. We are married five years but do not have an issue yet.
We are very much in love with each other since the day of our betrothal when we met for the first time. Our marriage went on smoothly. Giri, as we call my husband, was very gentle with me on our wedding night. I was a virgin at the time. He had had only one fuck before marriage. He carried on the foreplay for a long time; in fact, till the time I grabbed his lund (erect adult penis) and practically pulled him over me. He teased my clitoris with his lund before entering into my dripping wet chut (vagina). I was so excited with wonderful sensations emanating from my vulva that I hardly felt the pain of defloration.
We started our married life on a happy foot. Each day started with fucking and ended with fucking. He would wake up early in the morning with glorious erection. Usually I would be sleeping. He would wake me by nudging my bhos with his cock. The cock would easily slide in my pussy wet and slippery from previous night's fucking and would be buried to the hilt by the time I opened my eyes. Languorous fucking then would follow lasting for at least half an hour. I would get one or two orgasms before he climaxed. Occasionally I would wake up first. In that case I would play with his limp cock; Giri and his cock would then wake up to gather and invade my pussy.
After morning chores he would eat his breakfast and go to the fields to attend the farming. He would return by mid-day for lunch. The lunch was invariably followed by leisurely fuck and subsequent siesta. In the evenings the activities varied from day to day but we would be in bed by about midnight, fucking slow and easy.
This story also involves my Devar (younger brother of husband) Basant and Nanad (sister of husband) Bahar. They are the nearest cousins of my husband. Their family lives in the city of Baroda and comes to our native village twice a year to spend the vacations. At the time of this story Basant was 23, a third year student in Medical College. Bahar was 18 and was enrolled in degree course in Interior Decoration at the University. Both were virgins.
In spite of age difference of two years Basant and Giridhari were more of close friends than brothers. Giri had a reputation of being headstrong and stubborn; he did not care for and did not ask for anybody's opinion or advice. The only exception was Basant whom he would listen to and ask advice from. Basant had great respect for his elder brother for his courage and frankness.
Once after a session of glorious fuck Giri informed me that they had an unwritten pact between them that each will allow the other to fuck his wife.
He added, " Don't be surprised or feel offended if he makes advances. Just don't respond positively and he will not pester you. He will not do anything against your wish."
"He is in Medical School, he must have fucked any number of nurses and students. Why should he look up to a village girl like me?"
Here Giri squeezed my breasts and said, "Because this village girl has marvelous boobs and ever ready chut and Basant knows it because I have told him. Oh, yes. He is a virgin yet."
I made a show of fake anger and asked, "What else have you told him about me?"
"Every thing, he knows every thing about you, including that black mole on left lip of your pussy."
"Ohh, you men! You talk about nothing but sex. Do you know how shy I will feel next time I see him?"
"Now, Don't tell me that you don't like him because I know you do. My gudiya, (doll) I would not mind if you enjoy fucking him."
"Right now, he is not here, while you are. Why do you waste time?"
"Again?"
"Again." I said and turned on to all four for doggy style, favorite of Giri. No sooner he positioned himself and saw my rounded buttocks than his lund reared up like that of a horse. He did not wait for my permission; he rammed his cock in my pussy and fucked me gloriously for another half an hour
I had met Basant and Bahar when I came to my husband's home for the first time after my marriage. Then after they passed a lot of time with us when they came in for vacation. We would enjoy the usual banter between Bhabhi (wife of elder brother) and Devar and Nanad; sometimes bordering to verbal flirting but Basant did not make any serious advances. My pussy however got wet at mere thought of fucking with him. Luckily Giri kept me well satisfied fucking me twice or thrice every day.
A year after our marriage dark clouds of separation darkened the otherwise bright and happy skies of our lives. All of a sudden Giri estranged himself from me. He became irritable, moody and withdrawn. Some kind of rage was gnawing away his innards and he shut himself inside a cocoon of silence.
I was as miserable as he was. I requested and cajoled and cried asking him the cause of estrangement but he kept silent and aloof. I was worried stiff. Where would I go if he expelled me from the house? Worse than that, what would I do if something evil befell him? There was nobody around whom I could turn to for advice and support.
One of those days Giri exploded. Gashing his teeth he asked, "Have you heard of Madanlal?"
My heart sank on merely hearing that name. He was a notorious gangster in the city of Surat where I was born and brought up. My dad had a retail shop of ready-made garments in Surat. We lived on the first floor above the shop. Right across the street was another shop selling books and magazines. That shop belonged to Madanlal.
Madanlal was a crafty one with smooth faΓ§ade of an innocent boy. He was known to have talked his way into the families of many young girls and left them converted into women. For a while he targeted me and became close friend of my father. He offered a no interest business loan, started coming to our home at odd hours and brought small trinkets for me. He was an attractive man and without my parents protection I would have been one more virgin left deflowered by him. My mom saw that I was never left alone with that wolf, She had also warned me of the danger. I did not give him one positive response. After about six months he left us in favor of another family.
I told Giri what I knew of Madanlal. Giri was still fuming when he stabbed me with, "If you liked so much to suck his lund why did you not marry him, you slut?"
I could not believe my ears. Was that Giri, my loving husband speaking? I felt faint and practically collapsed on the floor. Giri did not come near me. Instead he twisted the knife in the wound saying, "How about Suleiman?
His is a circumcised lund, isn't it? You sucked that too. Which one did you like better? Madanlal's or Suleiman's? Why? You two-bit whore, why did you come into my life? What wrong did I do to you, if any?"
I was so shocked that tears would not come out of my eyes. I had no strength even to lift my finger let apart answer his accusations. Leaving me slumped on the floor he went away stamping his feet.
Then the crying started which I could not stem. I sobbed away my sorrow well into the evening. I had to get up and cook dinner for him. With Herculean effort I went to the kitchen and prepared one of his favorite dishes hoping against the hope to please him.
He did not come home that night. I spent the whole night sitting, waiting, worrying and crying.
Then the lady luck smiled on me when I had reached the deepest depths of despondency. Angels in the form of Basant and Bahar just flew in.
They knocked on my door one day soon after lunchtime. It was scorching hot day of May and time for siesta; I welcomed them with great pleasure and lot of relief. I said, "I am so glad that you have come. What would you like? Tea? Lemon juice?"
Bahar, "Nothing now Bhabhi. We just had our lunch. Everybody in the house is now sleeping while Bhaiya and me are not used to sleep during the day. So, I suggested that we come here and play cards or whatever with you and Giri Bhaiya."
I, "I am glad that you came."
Basant was looking for Giri. Not seeing him around he asked, "But where is that bozo of yours? Is he snoring away his lunch?"