Adultery Uncle Shom Is Taken by misterwho

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Sunita watched in fascination. No doubt, Shom Uncle had his back to her and he was fully clothed. But there was no mistaking what he was doing. The elderly recently widowed, father of her dear friend Deepa, and was busy stroking himself fast and hard. His hand was holding the railing and his head was thrown back. His hand was moving in long strokes and short thrusts.... A rhythm she was familiar with for all the times she had masturbated her own husband Kunal to orgasm. That was how she managed Kunal, when she needed to and it never took Kunal too long to come.


But Shom Uncle seemed to go on for quite a bit. His hand was clearly under his dhoti and every now and then, his tall broad frame shuddered. He paused as he relished that wave of pleasure and then gave himself a few more long strokes. As he leaned forward and sometimes back, he turned a bit which gave her a glimpse of his hand on his cock. It seemed a full fist and the head was jutting well beyond the clenched fist. Sunita felt her throat catch, and the dryness in breathing coming from excitement. She felt a release of fluid between her legs and she shifted uncomfortably.

Uncle was now hunched over. Hard strokes with the hand flying over the pillar of flesh he caressed lovingly. Then after a few short ones his head was thrown back and she heard the groan of satisfaction in the release and frustration at being alone by himself. He shook shuddered and spasmed, for several long seconds as he came. Sunita watched in fascination as his body jerked. As the elderly man thrust, jerked and slowed down, she heard him exhale with a long and deep sigh. Satisfaction. And then a shudder and a stifled moan.

She stepped back into the shadows, her feelings a mixture of embarrassment, sympathy, excitement and illicit thrill. She ought to have knocked or atleast, cleared her throat. She glided down the stairs as silently as she could carrying with her the tea she had brought for him. The upstairs was his lair and his preserve. She came down to the kitchen and Deepa asked her, "Why didn't you give him the chai?"

"He was in the bathroom," whispered Sunita and stared out of the window. Aunty had died a few months ago after a protracted illness and Sunita had come to spend time with her close friend Deepa and console father and daughter. Deepa was now quite reconciled but clearly her father had more problems than he could discuss with anyone. She shivered involuntarily at the thought of the cock she had seen him wield and lust raged through her body when she thought of how different it looked from what she had seen and experienced of her own husband Kunal. And then she remembered the college girl stories Deepa and she had exchanged years earlier when Deepa told her of the raucous noises from her parents room all those years ago.

Deepa had got up in the middle of the night to get some water and she had heard loud moaning noises and some slapping sounds. When she peeked through the door which was ajar she had seen her mother sitting astride her father. Uncle had been slapping Auntie's sumptuous ass. Her saree had been pulled aside in the typical fashion that Indian's make love: not quite undressing but pulling aside clothes and raising skirts to accommodate the male. Her breasts were squeezed out under her blouse and bra and Uncle had been nipping at the flesh. Auntie was screaming, "Yes! "Bite me! Maul me! Take me! Amaar ke diye!" Begging to be fucked harder and harder.

When Deepa had shared this story with Sunita they had giggled with the usual thrill that college girls have for discussing all things sexual.

Now that memory came back to tell Sunita the unstated story of Uncle's continuing sexual needs and how the absence of Aunty was causing him to be the way she had seen him now. The rich wetness between her legs scared her.

"Just take the tea for him," she whispered to Deepa and went to her room to lie down for a bit.

As she lay back and closed her eyes she saw Uncle looming over her and she opened her eyes with a start. It was her imagination. She smiled a little smile to herself and closed her eyes again. And watched him come over her and sink his animal size cock into her cunt. Involuntarily her legs spread and she squirmed, wondering if she would be able to take the pillar in one stroke.

She caressed her lower belly, allowing herself the naughty indulgence of a very private pleasure. She rubbed herself, sighed, turned over and slipped into a long mid morning nap.

Later in the afternoon

"We must be back home to serve baba his tea," Deepa reminded Sunita. They reached home and Sunita got into the kitchen to make the tea. Deepa got busy with unpacking the shopping and putting away things. Sunita placed the cup on a tray and got the midday paper and slowly walked up the stairs.

There lay uncle sprawled on his easy chair, reading a newspaper. He didn't see her coming. And she didn't have any warning of what she was going to see as she came from behind him and looked over his shoulder.

Her eyes latched on to the tent in Uncle's dhoti. And the cloth which was held up, revealed a bit from the side to show the flesh of his cock. Sunita stood transfixed. She saw the bulge twitch from the involuntary effects of a prolonged state of arousal. She quietly set down the tray, and moved closer to her friend's father. With one of her hands she lightly covered his mouth to let him know that he was not expected to say anything or stop her. The other hand slipped through the gap in the dhoti and her small hand closed around the raging cock. His eyes opened wide in shock.