The Guidance of Nephews

Saroja's situation was really remarkable. She pondered the events leading to this day, when she was nursing three cocks at the same time. Nursing is the only word that could adequately describe what she was doing. It had not yet become an outright gang-bang and she couldn't say if it would become that. Yet, there was one cock in her mouth which she was lovingly kissing and pumping with her mouth, another in her fist which she was rewarding with strokes, and a third which she was consoling by caresses with the sole of her foot.

All three cocks were just being petted, caressed and fondled. None was a complete fuck. At least, not yet. Neither of three men was bold enough to react on their own to add to the chemistry. And that is because men don't open out to each other or in front of other men so easily.

Perhaps that is why gang-bangs don't happen so often or so easily in India. We don't have football locker rooms where could get comfortable with one another.

Or is it because men compete for the attentions of a woman and that doesn't come easily in our overfull houses and an approach that is actually fear rather than conservatism? Given a chance....

And due to the competitive and starved scenario no man really lets on about his sex life; they like to perpetuate the myth that each is a lothario.

And that is why the three young men with Saroja did not respond or participate fully in the initial period. They were unsure of each other and because the bullock cart in which they were traveling was shadowy inside in the evening light, they didn't know that Saroja was active with the others too.

Now it would have been completely different if it was more than woman. This scenario is, in any case, every man's ultimate fantasy, so he is likely to lead them on should anything start. Two women loving each other in the presence and in tandem with a man does happen. Two men loving each other with a woman joining in? No, not really.

Women know each other, talk about how their men are with them and talk about their bodies. They change in common rooms, help each other bathing and often discuss problems of the female variety with great confidence in one another. For one woman to see another in any state of undress is no big deal. In fact it happens all the time.

And that is why Saroja's situation with her three young relatives was remarkable. She was one woman and there were three of them.

The family wedding which Saroja was returning from is a typical example of how women talk to each other and are comfortable with each others bodies. Usually, in such events all the women shared the same room, bathing, changing and adorning themselves in the presence of the other women of the marriage party. The men do not get to sleep with their women; all the women cluster in one or more of a set of rooms.

It is a great chance to gossip and catch up with one another. As a herd they find comfort in one another. And usually this ensures they are never late for any of the important functions, because from the bride onwards everyone is getting ready in everyone else's presence.

Saroja had come for this wedding with her husband, his younger brother and two nephews. The younger brother was 27, and the two nephews were 18 and 19. Saroja and her husband ranked as seniors but they were not that much older than the others. Saroja's husband was 33 and she herself was an alluring 29.

Their branch of the family was city-bred and much of the rest of the family came from smaller towns and were not quite the same social class. Relations were excellent but the common ground for fun and games was not the same with the larger group as it was between this closed group of man and wife with brother-in-law and nephews in tow.

And so over days of travel by road and the three days of events the five them stayed closer to one another and the bonding grew. While Saroja knew her brother-in-law a bit better, the two nephews were just acquaintances to her. Over these days, the five of them had had a rollicking time together.

Their jokes made sense to one another and their tastes were similar too. For instance all of them secretly enjoyed eating chicken and had noticed the "Naidu's Military Hotel" on the way to the marriage hall. It seemed neat and likeable and like a bunch of adolescent brats, they sneaked out and ordered only the side-dishes. The server was amazed that no rice was eaten as accompaniment!

Saroja was utterly fun-loving. Even as their car journey into the rural hinterland commenced, she was the one who was constantly asking the car to stop to buy groundnuts, bananas, to drink coconut water and eat guavas.

The nineteen year old Gopi found his aunt completely exciting for the kind of personality he was. Completely uninhibited, she sat next to him in the car letting her thigh rest against his. He journeyed, very conscious of the fullness of the leg against his. And when she fell asleep she let her head rest fully on his shoulder. The soft, warmth of her womanliness was deeply satisfying.

As the car had jostled and she moved with it, her saree pallo slid and Gopi allowed his eyes to roam the gently swelling slopes her breasts. From where he was sitting, he was able to look right own the front of the blouse, where the sumptuous mountains of Saroja's fleshy breasts disappeared into a mysterious darkness. Her 'taali kodi' (necklace indicating married status) snaked over the hills and valleys of her flesh like a gleaming river. Her cleavage could well have been a gorge into which the river disappeared, hidden from the eyes of adventurous explorers. Like Gopi....

At every stop, they rearranged themselves in different seating orders. Soon enough, Gopi lost his vantage position. But his younger brother Sundar too had the same attraction to the alluring, buxom, playful Saroja mami (mother's brother's wife). She had her arm on the backrest of the car when Sundar fell asleep and soon his head had leaned into her armpit. He smelt her sweat which seemed aromatic. It disturbed his drowsiness and his senses became aware. As he slumped lower, his face came to rest against the breast itself.

Sundar had savored every moment he pretended to be asleep as his lips lay open against the swelling of her breast. Saliva dampened the breast and Saroja did not mind the boy drooling in his sleep; it was something that happens to everyone while asleep.

Ravi, the brother-in-law was older than the two youngsters and could not sidle up to be with Saroja but he felt the tug too. His sister-in-law was saucy and spontaneous and his brother Arvind was serious and introverted. Saroja found a companion in Ravi to respond to her jokes and some of her saucier ones were reserved for Ravi's ears; she couldn't be that risqué with those two younger fellows. Ravi responded to her in the same spirit.

And then there was the afternoon when the 'nalang' ceremony was held. This ceremony is a hangover from olden times when the bride and groom, who traditionally marry o orders from the parents, used to get to know one another through a series of familiarization 'games' played in the presence of the entire family of both sides.

Songs are an integral part of this ceremony and it is normal for someone musically minded to render a film or popular song, replacing the names of the protagonists with that of the bride and groom.

During this song session, Saroja had made bold to break the taboo and sing raunchy film songs. She enhanced the raunchiness by dancing to the numbers, wiggling her hips and thrusting her breasts and jiggling the, as the dancers in the movie were want to do. And in the heat of the moment with a small crowd dancing along, Ravi had jumped, thrusting himself back at his 'manni' (sister-in-law) in rhythm also in the fashion of the film heroes.

This usually elicited a lot of laughs, including the older 'mamas' and 'mamis' being indulgent at what on another occasion would have invited retribution and recrimination. The ladies laughed, winking at one another, and making suggestive remarks to the bride, full of innuendo.

The older men took the opportunity to lech at all the younger women who were bold enough to dance.

What particularly added to the flirtatiousness in this case was Ravi, Gopi and Sundar's readiness to help by singing the lyrics along with Saroja. Whenever there came a particularly innuendo-laden stanza, Saroja would pretend not to know the words and hum along. Immediately the trio would offer the exact words, making Saroja blush initially.

Later she laughingly joined them, betraying the act she actually knew the lines herself. Radiant eyes met, hands touched and laughter resonated at a very personal level.

The three young men found that the woman they called "manni" (sister-in-law) was a sexual bombshell, ticking every minute. (They all called her manni though for Gopi and Sundar she was mami. This happened because the age difference was not significant.)

Now, while all of this raised the temperature, many of us will recognize that this happens in almost all weddings and would have happened to most.

But what was completely different and unusual in this case was when Saroja refused to share the rooms of the women-at-large because it was just too messy and a big jumble of people and things.

She insisted on a separate set of rooms which her husband's branch of the family would use separately. As it happened, there was only one available room at the chosen hotel which would meet her standard. It was suite, and so there was an additional drawing room. The group agreed that this extra space allowed enough space for all to sleep and enough privacy to change.

By then the comfort with one another had reached such levels that Saroja quite often, did her makeup wearing just her blouse and petticoat. Each man got an eyeful of Saroja manni's ample bosom, her burlesque ass and her luscious lips and profile in various poses.

And so it happened over the days that each of her unstated sexual suitors had that extra moment of intimacy.

In Gopi's case it was the moment when she realized her bra was far too dark under the color of her blouse and could be seen separately. She called Gopi - and this is where getting ready with other women helped; there was no limit to exposure and the nature of help asked for and rendered, without sex getting in the way. Saroja had noticed subliminal messages from all three and perhaps getting a little bit of harmless sex in was needed. "Poor boys!" she sympathized.

"Does this bra show?" she asked, looking herself front and back in the mirror, her eyes meeting Gopi's in search of a reply. "Hmm?" she persisted. Gopi's throat was dry. He had been secretly glancing at her and now he found himself being asked to specifically look at her. He didn't know how to acknowledge his awareness of the 'bra' as a concept and answer without letting his manni feel that he had been eyeing her.

"Ada- sollu pa!" she exclaimed, eyes dancing. (Hey, tell me!) "Lost your tongue? Look here," she said, turning her back to him and hands tracing her bra-strap. With her eyes on him in the mirror, she asked, "Does this show?"

Gopi's eyes were not on the back. They had been on her mounds of flesh straining against the blouse when she was facing him. As she turned away towards the mirror, back to him, his eyes had followed. First the bust-line appeared as she was half turned. And then came the gently heaving mounds of delectable flesh.

"Look here," she emphasized the 'here', pointing to the bra-strap, "and not here" she continued, her other hand passing over her bosom. She quickly converted the overt sexual reference to an innocent remark by adding, "Here, the saree will make sure nothing is seen. It is only at the back."

"It shows," croaked Gopi, then he weakly added, "the bra shows," immediately turning deep crimson in embarrassment.

Saroja noticed that the boy was self-conscious; or perhaps very conscious of her sexuality. "Ok, wait here. Let me change to something else," she said turning away from the mirror to the corner, one side was the wall and the other was the door to the bathroom where Sundar had gone. (Ravi was running some last minute errand outside.) She was going to reveal something which she didn't want Gopi to see in the mirror.

Back to him, she removed her blouse and her bra. Gopi felt a maddening erection as he took in the sight of her bare back, with its glowing skin and vast expanse of flesh to caress. What was more, when she lifted her arms to slip on the blouse; he was rewarded with sight of the sides of her swinging tits. Gopi quickly ran his fist over his hardon confident that she wouldn't turn around now and got some relief from the ache in his groin.

She now wore a skin colored bra but the yellow of her blouse was very pale and showed the color through. She needed to be sure; but she was also enjoying teasing the boy. She wondered if he had ever seen bare breasts. She turned around and asked him again, moving in front of the mirror to check for herself.

This color was obviously wrong and even as she asked Gopi for his opinion she shook her head. Not yet moving to the corner, she started unbuttoning the blouse, baring her bra encased tits to the young man. Gopi drank in the sight, following her with his eyes till the last moment when she moved out of the range of the mirror.

Saroja removed both blouse and bra and once again stood bare back to Gopi who was not only fighting the monster in his trousers, but also the monster unleashed in his head. His Saroja Manni was lusciously appetizing.

Now Saroja found that the final bra which she wanted to try was not at hand but she had already removed her top. "Gopi," she called then stopped, realizing that she ran the risk of showing him more of her body than even she could accept.

She turned her head around to check where he was relative to her while her body was still towards the corner. As she turned, she saw his hand rub the front of his trouser and in that one glance the sexually shrewd Saroja saw the tented erection. She had caused a problem. She decided that she would have to handle this business of getting the other bra with a little more discretion.

"Gopi," she said, surprised by how hoarse her own voice had suddenly become, "just find my white color bra in the bag." She now had her arms across her chest to ensure her breasts were not exposed to him. She found it necessary to twist a bit toward him to see if he was accessing the right part of the correct bag. Gopi was painfully aware that as he turned sideways she could probably see his erection. He hoped not.

But he was hoping against hope. Instead of looking at where Gopi was searching, her eyes were intently on the clearly significant bulge. Gopi picked the bra and waved it at her but the moment he looked there, his eyes were transfixed on the side of her breast which was fully exposed to him. "No," she shook her head, "it is a front opening one," she told him and her regret at sharing intimate details of her apparel on a madly aroused teenager was instant.

Gopi tore his eyes away from the beautiful luscious woman. Her shoulders were bare and her back was a smooth expanse of flesh. Her breasts were pendulous and barely concealed by her arms. As she gesticulated, he got a glance at one breast; the nipple was brown and like a piece of dried date, seemed so sweetly suckable.

She cleared her throat and felt the color rising to the very bosom which she was looking to conceal. It rose to her cheeks and she stood perfectly still, woman and boy acknowledging the sexual moment with a moment's quiet.

Gopi found the bra and handed it to his Saroja manni, eyes watching closely for the moment when her breast would be exposed to him. It was exposed as she reached out to take the bra. She didn't just take it; she took it tenderly. Equally tenderly, slowly, she put the bra on her shoulder and as the cups were brought to cover the tits, she turned to face him. "Thank you," she whispered, giving him a look at the deep valley between the mounds. What had been a dark mystery the other night was now his to feast on.

Leaving one of the cups of the bra precariously hanging on to the massive breast it was tasked to hold, she put a hand on his shoulder. There was a fractional moment of indecision as the hand lingered. Was it meant to pull or push away? Saroja turned him away with a finality, and in a parting gift the bra cup slipped off its precarious perch giving one final look at the wrinkled, long, brown, oh-so-suckable nipple.

Any thing that happened by such accidents left no feeling of guilt on Saroja. She turned back towards the corner which was her sanctuary from the wildness of hormones and allowed the bra to fall open as she got her blouse on. Gopi turned his back on her dutifully and obedient as ever and mumbled, "Let me go help Ravi mama". (mama: uncle, mother's brother). He closed the door behind him.

As her arms were up slipping into her blouse, her breasts swung, heavy and suddenly seemingly full from the close encounter with her elder nephew. The bathroom door opened and fresh-faced Sundar found himself staring at swinging mammaries of his aunt. The nipples had started to grow taut under a delayed reaction to the events that had just passed. Sundar gasped as he saw her lovely breasts in their full splendor. Ever since he had slept against them in the car h8e had wondered how they might look and how they might feel without the obstructive fabric in between.

Now here were the magnificent peaks he wanted to conquer! He was out of breath and as he sucked in air, his towel came undone and the 18 year old found himself nude in front of Saroja manni. As if in sync, his cock rose to salute the sight presented to it and Saroja found herself staring: it was a long cock of average thickness. She was caught so unawares that her own hands didn't respond quickly enough to cover her own breasts.

"Shut the door," she whispered, her voice sounding seductive at a bad time for an aunt. Sundar had been about to bend and pick up his towel but he instead responded to his manni's order and moved for the door. Unable to take the embarrassment of his now complete erection she bent to pick up the towel. Her eyes were on the long cock as if she was keeping her eye on it to avoid a collision with her face. Her face and lips were perilously close to it.

Sundar jumped and ducked reflexively in defense of his cock. Saroja couldn't help chuckling. As the door shut, they found themselves in the bathroom; Saroja had stepped on the inside of the door which was meant to shut their view of each other. The door to the room outside was still just shut not locked. She draped the towel around his waist, her tongue saucily in one cheek as she smiled at Sundar's awkwardness.

"Enna? Idu daney?" she asked. (It s this isn't it?) Her hands reached for his and lifted them to hold up her breasts, like fruit being assessed at a merchant's. Bringing her face near his, she breathed on him while a hand crept up and bolted the door; the unbolted room door was risky enough. She couldn't have anyone walking into the bathroom and finding her half clothed with a half clothed teenaged nephew.

Sundar froze with his hands on those breasts. He couldn't feel them much as he had dreamed of doing just that and more.

"Go on. Feel them and be done. I know you have wanted to ever since that day in the car," she said softly. He could not have known that she equally craved a man's touch, now that she had been on display for a while and had seen her effect on the boys. She looked down and saw the tented towel, and then it parted and out nosed the cock.

Instinctively, her hand reached down and took him in her soft fist. She slid her hand under the towel and her other hand rested his head to her bosom. "Inda," she murmured. (Take.) Sundar let the weight of his head rest on the soft pillows of her breasts as he succumbed to his own dream of lust. His arms went around and he caressed her bare back with one hand while the other felt and weighed and savored the volume of her breast.