24-02-2019, 12:47 PM
But had anyone spotted Aruna bouncing up and down the other day, her head bobbing and flailing in the pleasure that was pounded out by Sudhir's too-large-to-consume cock they would have no doubts. The rhythm, the bounce and the body language were unmistakable- especially to Shanta and her sister (Aruna's mom).
Aruna now leaned forward again, switching from girl to woman-unleashed and whispered, "Don't you know love-talk? Didn't you and Shanta aunty talk dirty when -- making love?" asked Aruna emphasizing the 'making love' in a sultry voice.
Talk dirty? What was the girl talking about? A generation gap was at play here. Sudhir's generation didn't talk so much as they did. In their part of the country the men were virile and the women were game. Sex was not taboo but nor was it openly bandied about. You did what you did and you kept it to yourself.
Sudhir's younger days were filled with sport. Being the district football team captain made him attractive to his cousins and their friends. Heavy petting, kissing and fondling breasts with a quick undoing of blouses and mutual masturbation had all been added benefits of his local sports stardom.
His real action had been with the older women in their village; women who he called 'chechi' (older sister) per local tradition, who seemed to his eyes lovely luscious cauldrons of lust. He lost his virginity to one such and stealthily visited her and others on long lazy afternoons. Skirts were hoisted to ride and let him ride. Blouses were opened for him to feast on dizzyingly sumptuous breasts.
There was no talk except the endearing cooing from an older woman as he suckled on her breasts. They loved to rock him and feed him and mother him, even as they lusted his sexual vigor.
He being the younger man in those situations and with this whom he called 'elder sister' there was hardly any scope for 'dirty talk'. It would be disrespectful to those women. It would no longer allow them to think of him as a 'nice young man'. And if the hero worship stopped then too, would the trysts vanish.
As his experience with the wonderful, loving women grew, he found lesser and lesser need for the girls in his own age group; not to mention the possibility of them wanting to wed him.
Aruna had been his first, shocking encounter with a younger girl? Younger women? Rarely. Society taught him to take on responsibility for those younger and the leader in him rose to that role. Over the years Sudhir came to be regarded as a family elder to turn to.
"Who else will I turn to?" Aruna pouted again in that childish, delightful manner. "You have," she said, pausing and touching his now larger-than-ever cock again "all the experience to teach me. Don't you want me to be happy in my marriage?" she asked teasingly.
"Tell me about Shanta aunty and you," she pressed on.
"There is nothing to tell," said Sudhir his voice cracking from a sudden dryness in his throat.
"Why?" asked Aruna, reaching for the bottle of water. She opened and held it over his mouth like she had done enough number of times over the years. But there was something sexually charged this time about how she let a slow stream of water fall to Sudhir's parched mouth.
"We didn't talk much during the time we spent together like that," said Sudhir avoiding the use of the word "sex" or the phrase "love making". If there was any corrupting going on over here he did not want to implicate himself. He found himself walking a thin line between what Aruna had done the last time she visited and his own response to that. Like her restlessness, he found himself walking around with an erection. He had tried to dispel thoughts of how she had bounced on his cock, how tight the fit had been -- and therefore how hard the releasing shots of cum had been. Every time he spurted the tight fuck-down and caused his cum to rocket into her.
For years he had simply slipped over a house's compound wall and found his way into the arms of the coterie of 'chechis' who were delighted to fuck him when he needed it. That day, after innumerable years, he masturbated to the memory of his niece's vigorous fucking. And even though he had spent inside her in torrents, he came again in torrents.
He could have taken his lust to Shanta but after what Aruna had done to him, with him, Sudhir found himself withdrawn, drinking a little more, smoking a little more and staring at the distance a lot more.
Aruna now sat down on his thighs, legs astride, and brought her face close to his and with sparkling eyes asked, "So you don't know any of those words?"
The other day she had sat down sideways like she usually did. She then swung her leg around to straddle him. That was when he spotted the absence of panties. That was when he saw his niece's bare pussy. Instead of anger and control, if there was shock and confusion that day, it was because of Aruna's disarming ways; and unbridled, instant lust on his part.
"This," she whispered into his face, her hands between them, grabbing his cock --snared in his underwear and therefore not offering her any grip - as best as her little hand could, "is called cock," she finished. She pronounced 'cock' with a hardness to her voice as if to emphasize what it meant to her.
Her mind went back to that first fuck. She had a complete recording in her mind. She had played that back and forth again and again. Despite incessant fucking by her husband she had found it necessary to play herself at the thought of the fuck with Sudhir. Yes, she remembered it perfectly well. Yes, her Daddy-Uncle was right.
He had not spoken much during their encounter. She remembered having asked him why he had not taught her to "fuck"; but that had been at the height of her own orgasm. And after that she had had to rush to the washroom lest her mom and aunt spot the cum running down her legs. They too had not talked much. Perhaps that was how it was with Sudhir Uncle! Perhaps the sex was so maniacal that nothing else happened!
"This," she said in a low voice "is called pussy," She grabbed his hand and insinuated it between her legs to her crotch and rubbed the back of his hand against herself. She shivered. He felt there was another layer of garment beneath her skirt; thankfully she was wearing panties today.
"You have the experience! You are supposed to be the teacher!" she said loudly as she sat up suddenly, upright, complaining. This was her original persona; nothing sexual.
Aruna now leaned forward again, switching from girl to woman-unleashed and whispered, "Don't you know love-talk? Didn't you and Shanta aunty talk dirty when -- making love?" asked Aruna emphasizing the 'making love' in a sultry voice.
Talk dirty? What was the girl talking about? A generation gap was at play here. Sudhir's generation didn't talk so much as they did. In their part of the country the men were virile and the women were game. Sex was not taboo but nor was it openly bandied about. You did what you did and you kept it to yourself.
Sudhir's younger days were filled with sport. Being the district football team captain made him attractive to his cousins and their friends. Heavy petting, kissing and fondling breasts with a quick undoing of blouses and mutual masturbation had all been added benefits of his local sports stardom.
His real action had been with the older women in their village; women who he called 'chechi' (older sister) per local tradition, who seemed to his eyes lovely luscious cauldrons of lust. He lost his virginity to one such and stealthily visited her and others on long lazy afternoons. Skirts were hoisted to ride and let him ride. Blouses were opened for him to feast on dizzyingly sumptuous breasts.
There was no talk except the endearing cooing from an older woman as he suckled on her breasts. They loved to rock him and feed him and mother him, even as they lusted his sexual vigor.
He being the younger man in those situations and with this whom he called 'elder sister' there was hardly any scope for 'dirty talk'. It would be disrespectful to those women. It would no longer allow them to think of him as a 'nice young man'. And if the hero worship stopped then too, would the trysts vanish.
As his experience with the wonderful, loving women grew, he found lesser and lesser need for the girls in his own age group; not to mention the possibility of them wanting to wed him.
Aruna had been his first, shocking encounter with a younger girl? Younger women? Rarely. Society taught him to take on responsibility for those younger and the leader in him rose to that role. Over the years Sudhir came to be regarded as a family elder to turn to.
"Who else will I turn to?" Aruna pouted again in that childish, delightful manner. "You have," she said, pausing and touching his now larger-than-ever cock again "all the experience to teach me. Don't you want me to be happy in my marriage?" she asked teasingly.
"Tell me about Shanta aunty and you," she pressed on.
"There is nothing to tell," said Sudhir his voice cracking from a sudden dryness in his throat.
"Why?" asked Aruna, reaching for the bottle of water. She opened and held it over his mouth like she had done enough number of times over the years. But there was something sexually charged this time about how she let a slow stream of water fall to Sudhir's parched mouth.
"We didn't talk much during the time we spent together like that," said Sudhir avoiding the use of the word "sex" or the phrase "love making". If there was any corrupting going on over here he did not want to implicate himself. He found himself walking a thin line between what Aruna had done the last time she visited and his own response to that. Like her restlessness, he found himself walking around with an erection. He had tried to dispel thoughts of how she had bounced on his cock, how tight the fit had been -- and therefore how hard the releasing shots of cum had been. Every time he spurted the tight fuck-down and caused his cum to rocket into her.
For years he had simply slipped over a house's compound wall and found his way into the arms of the coterie of 'chechis' who were delighted to fuck him when he needed it. That day, after innumerable years, he masturbated to the memory of his niece's vigorous fucking. And even though he had spent inside her in torrents, he came again in torrents.
He could have taken his lust to Shanta but after what Aruna had done to him, with him, Sudhir found himself withdrawn, drinking a little more, smoking a little more and staring at the distance a lot more.
Aruna now sat down on his thighs, legs astride, and brought her face close to his and with sparkling eyes asked, "So you don't know any of those words?"
The other day she had sat down sideways like she usually did. She then swung her leg around to straddle him. That was when he spotted the absence of panties. That was when he saw his niece's bare pussy. Instead of anger and control, if there was shock and confusion that day, it was because of Aruna's disarming ways; and unbridled, instant lust on his part.
"This," she whispered into his face, her hands between them, grabbing his cock --snared in his underwear and therefore not offering her any grip - as best as her little hand could, "is called cock," she finished. She pronounced 'cock' with a hardness to her voice as if to emphasize what it meant to her.
Her mind went back to that first fuck. She had a complete recording in her mind. She had played that back and forth again and again. Despite incessant fucking by her husband she had found it necessary to play herself at the thought of the fuck with Sudhir. Yes, she remembered it perfectly well. Yes, her Daddy-Uncle was right.
He had not spoken much during their encounter. She remembered having asked him why he had not taught her to "fuck"; but that had been at the height of her own orgasm. And after that she had had to rush to the washroom lest her mom and aunt spot the cum running down her legs. They too had not talked much. Perhaps that was how it was with Sudhir Uncle! Perhaps the sex was so maniacal that nothing else happened!
"This," she said in a low voice "is called pussy," She grabbed his hand and insinuated it between her legs to her crotch and rubbed the back of his hand against herself. She shivered. He felt there was another layer of garment beneath her skirt; thankfully she was wearing panties today.
"You have the experience! You are supposed to be the teacher!" she said loudly as she sat up suddenly, upright, complaining. This was her original persona; nothing sexual.
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