Adultery Worship: But Not The Planned One by misterwho

[Ramesh_Rocky]

You could blame it on the situation. The temple queue was such a crush that it was inevitable that the people in the queue were pressed together in all sorts of awkward ways.

But when Srikant, an 18-year old from her neighborhood first brushed against Shobha aunty (mami) in that crowd he was guilty of allowing it to happen rather easily. He had always secretly fantasized about Shobha aunty, with her full bosom and enticing way of wearing her saree. She always showed cleavage, her face was radiant and she wore flowers in her hair -- which somehow seemed raunchy to him.

She always seemed dressed to seduce; or was it just the desire in the eyes of the 18- year old boy that she looked that seductive?

And when she came up against the awkward and geeky youth from in the temple crowd, she recognized him from get togethers though she did not know him by name. She immensely preferred him to the anonymous males brushing up against her and crushing against her. And not all those brushes and crushes seemed forced; now here was that cock rubbing itself on her ample, rounded ass, even pausing between her buttocks for an extra rub. Her reaction was somewhere between bubbling desire and revulsion.

In general she loved how sexy she felt and how wanton and lustful she really was. She dressed, showed off and mentally seduced all the men, young and old that she socially encountered. And she took all that pent up energy to her husband at any time and place where she could get him to fuck her.

She would have happily fucked Sundar uncle who was her husband's mother's brother. An ex-military type he seemed fit and his body seemed strong. "Would that strength extend, despite his age to his sexual stamina?" she often wondered.

She often dreamed of seducing Sundar uncle's his son Surya and really wanted to allow her own cousin Shashidhar to plunder her as he did with his lustful eyes -- but decorum restrained her.

Sometimes she wondered if it was her own inhibition. Sometimes she felt it was a consciousness that she played a key role in her household and somehow any such unleashing of her sexual desires would create some imbalance.

She also thought of what might happen if someone, especially Sundar Uncle who was a figure of authority reacted badly and exposed her in front of the family. She was a bit surer of the younger guys -- they would happily indulge in her and fulfill their own fantasies she was sure.

So some combination of inhibition, fear, cowardice and a lack of opportunity outweighed her pulsating sexuality and fertile imagination.

So she did all this mentally. Every day. Every opportunity.

She was one of those mamis who was always doing a lot around the house. And theirs was a house where there was always a lot of coming and going. If it was not in the family, it was some neighborhood function around some festival.

On all these occasions, Shobha mami's zest translated to a bubbling personality. Add to that her curvaceous figure and playfulness -- she was quite a package. The menfolk in these situations always spent a lot of time eyeing her and thinking about her. If they were not imagining themselves in bed with her, at the very least they imagined her breasts to play with.

Many of the younger men yearned to work alongside her putting up flowers or stirring ingredients. They wanted to be near her just so that she might flirt with them. Or hands might touch. Or her saree pallo might slip. And who knows, if one was lucky he might die and go to heaven in those soft plump arms and everything that lay within.

But Shobha mami did much of that kind of work with the kids in the community. Her flirtatious best was reserved for men older than her; men she could really bed if she got down to it. But unknown to anyone, beyond that flirtatious exterior was a woman who furiously fantasized about every man she encountered. And on more than one occasion she masturbated to that fantasy.

Or brought it to her marital bed. And on those occasions she surprised her husband with additional sexual energy and her sluttish devotion to pleasure and lust.

She might have mouthed him to orgasm imagining him to the strict, disciplinarian Sundar uncle and viewed the cumming as his taming. She might have ridden him, on top, to an uncontrolled, explosive orgasm pretending she was deflowering the young Surya.

Or bent over and insisted he ride her like the bitch on heat she felt herself to be at that moment.

Her husband, on all such occasions enjoyed the whore in her and the contrast with the dutiful social mami added to the lust of her slutty tendencies when in bed with him.

He could make out which were ordinary days and which were days of extra energy. She was not the same woman. Making love to her oscillated between worshipping a divine, motherly woman and plundering and being plundered by a wanton slut.

So yes, there was some playfulness in her for all the men who used the opportunity to feel her in different ways. In some ways it was also a compromise in a society where crowds were what they were and men were the way they were.

They would grope on such occasions but at least enough of them were cowards like Sundar uncle -- they would not have the guts to seduce or respond unless the woman made the definitive move. "Hypocrites!" she thought to herself.

So she told Srikant, "Let us stick to each other! It is unbearable in this crowd."

"Yes, mami," mumbled the taller, younger man, looking down Shobha's cleavage. Sweat coated them and her blouse was at least partially soaked. How often had he imagined his face between those mounds of flesh! And here he was looking down and admiring them freely. The rivulets ran down her broad chest, converging at her cleavage and running down where he wanted his lips to run.