"I need you," he said, his voice thick and feverish with desire.
"Not right now," she hissed back. They were both in the kitchen. It was an open format kitchen and across the service counter into the hall one could clearly see where the men were seated.
Saroja had worked hard on her nephew Sundar's higher education in a manner that her husband could not have imagined. The young man was related to her husband. Everyone looked up to her husband Arvind. By extension, they looked up to Arvind's wife, too; the elder manni as it were in the family.
Unusually, in Sundar's case the aunt's involvement had been unconventional. It had taken the full unleashing of her sexuality to take the then 18-year old's mind off sex. She had fucked him in every way that there was for a woman to fuck a man. She showed him his way around her body and gave him free run of her.
It had got rid of his obsession with sex. Through this phase of sexual awakening of the young man she extracted promises to study and the boy excelled thereafter.
Cleverly, she put space between them, convincing him that he was not in love with her; that he was obsessed bout sex. She indulged him and gave him as much sex as he wanted. The original goal of such a strategy was to prove to him that his desire was sex was not the same as his desire for his aunt.
Unstated was her own desire for the strong young body of her nephew. She took her own pleasure, intense and indulgent even as she allowed him to use her.
He only used her. As he became more aware of his own sexuality, his needs soared to more adventurous pursuits. Those, the ones where he indulged his animal preferences -he kept those for the maid. For Saroja manni, it was worshipful sex. She was his goddess. He made love to her. The maid - he fucked her.
Sheer sexual jealousy made Saroja try and be a whore to him; but that was all too brief. Soon, she felt the need to become the elder, surrogate mother for the boy and that was when the distances slowly set in.
It was not to the boy's liking. It welled up in him. There was none as luscious as Saroja even though he had indulged himself fully with the maid.
She was, in the final analysis divine. Loving her, holding her breasts, milking her, sucking her and having her do things to him - all these were a class apart.
Today he was visiting from college after a long gap.
The entire trip of his to his uncle's place was contrived. He found all sorts of excuses to be here and saved up from his various allowances to ensure that he no one could control him and prevent this trip from happening.
He wanted that woman. And he wanted her to be the whore she once promised to be in vengeful mood.
He did not want instant gratification though he was wild in his desire for her. He wanted long, languorous hours and the time to be indulgent. She with him; he with her.
She knew him. Very well. She knew this desire lurked beneath the surface. She knew she would have to meet his desire. May not be entirely - but at some level she would have to respond. He was here only for one night. And he would not leave without sharing some form of intimacy with her. That she knew.
The other person who was sitting in the hall with her husband was an old school friend of theirs who had come to stay the night. She did not think she would have much latitude around the house today. This was especially so because that friend Shyam knew her too well.
At various parties, Shyam had flirted with the luscious Saroja. And Saroja had played along, teasing him right up to the brink of promiscuity. And she drew the line there. She gave him glimpses of her cleavage, her thigh and parted her lips in a Monroe-esque pout to drive his imagination wild. Then she backed off.
Shyam considered her a tease eventually. But that was not true. Saroja was merely scared to go beyond. That was then. Unknown to Shyam, Saroja had crossed all sorts of boundaries with her male relatives. Saroja felt the difference in her as she met up with Shyam today. Had Shyam noticed the difference in her? The question remained.
There was always the chance that the two men would gossip late into the night. Technically, that allowed her to be by herself. But it also meant that her husband would follow her into the bedroom and expect to find her there. This prevented her from safely putting her husband to sleep and then going into the young man's room to satisfy him.
She thought through this part while humming about the kitchen and preparing dinner and laying the table.
The men were in animated conversation. She and her nephew were in the kitchen. Her husband kept flitting from the hall to the fridge for more beer and ice and so on. There was so much happening. And then...
"I need you," he said again, desperation in his voice. She hated that desperation. She wanted him to feel complete, confident and able to take on the world.
She looked down. The massive erection was plainly evident. She knew that virile cock of his- so well. On the spur of the moment she dropped to her knees. She looked up at him and said, "You look out for your uncle."
He looked down at the beautiful woman kneeling in front of him, her face at his tummy level. His hard-on was at its maximum. Nothing could have made him grow larger or harder. He was already there. And yet, the sight of her heaving breasts and the look down her blouse aroused him more.
He could not see enough of her breasts. There was no cleavage and, no slope, no parting. Saroja manni's blouse was stuffed full with her sumptuous melons. The only way to feast eyes on her was to untrap them from their confines. For now he had to be content with the upper slopes and the heavy breathing that accentuated her bounty.
She undid his trouser and lowered his underwear. Gently, ever so gently, she removed the cock from its entrapment without allowing the elastic band to hurt her young man.
There he was, proud, arrogant, lustful and desiring all at once.
"So professionally efficient!" he thought admiringly of the manner in which she uncovered him.
She needed to be lower to be able to do what she planned to do next. She spread her knees wider so that her face moved lower to be level with his cock. She held the weight of his cock gently in the palm of her hand, her fingers under the whole length and below his balls.
Fluid dripped on her wrist as he flowed freely. His body went into a feverish high and he shut his eyes, savoring the feel of her fingers on him. He had longed for this so often.
There were many many nights when he had imagined these very hands on him and masturbated himself to sleep. On other days, masturbated he again and again and again- his wanting of her never abated on certain nights. He wanted those breasts under his weight or weighing down on him. Her hair, her smell...
"Eyes open!" she hissed at him. "You are the lookout."
He opened his eyes. He looked at his uncle in the hall chatting with his friend. He looked down at her. He was just in time to see her open, wide mouth slide onto him as his aunt formed a channel with her elegant, soft fingers. Her elongated fingers were the feeder guiding her nephew's cock to the sluice gates of her mouth.
The engulfing warmth overwhelmed him. He moved his hips in a gentle rhythm befitting the fact that the woman who was mouthing him was his own beloved manni (aunt); not the maid; nor a whore who he anyway did not have the guts to accost.
His hands went behind her head, so that he could be gentle but sure. She slurped on his cock sucking and kissing as she slid his cock in and out, in and effort to provide him the comfort that her pussy ought to have. As she rocked back and forth her hips and knees rocked too.
When she had widened her knees to lower her face, her thighs had spread out. Now the sheer excitement triggered by the hot cock had caused her pussy to flow. Combined with the spread, her cunt was now agape and she felt a yawning vacantness.
The sense of duty that allowed her to indulge her nephew thus, now gave way to her own desires and lust.
But that was not her original plan. She just wanted him to get sexual relief and less desperate.
She fucked his cock with her mouth in a manner that belied the fact that she was just an ordinary middle class housewife with a very conventional sex life. In behavior she was being more like a practised street shore.
Her nephew's pent up sexual needs could not take too much more. He shuddered and came.
He flooded her, in copious jets even though the preceding three days he had masturbated several times over anticipating meeting his aunt. It was as if he had not cum in months.
