Adultery A Girl Chooses a Coach by misterwho

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Her cousin who was dancing with her could not help saying, "Ooh, my!" as she watched the skin glitter, the bosom heave. For a moment she felt like licking the moisture on Aruna's chest and throat and chin and up to those lips, which were now curved in a naughty smile crowned by a sparkling smile.

Aruna moved closer to her and briefly their breasts pressed. She let her hand drop to the other woman's hips and spontaneously they ground out towards each other in rhythm. It was heady.

Aruna laughed and moved off to one of her admirers of the opposite sex. "Come!" she invited him. "You want to try that?" she asked. She was tantalizingly close and they could smell each other. She made the same move, the grind routine and allowed him to come as close as needed to let him imagine he felt her pubis. He wasn't sure but by the time the next grind came around she was gone, having felt his erection rub against her now moist lips.

A heady mix of drink and rhythm, the close proximity to men who she was comfortable with and their open admiration of her caused her to get even more aroused and bold.

She was not alone. Every one was like that now. Just that she had already titillated all those who had been watching her through the evening and some of them were on fire. She whetted their appetite and as the hunger in her loins surged, she looked harder for her Sudhir Uncle, her 'daddy-uncle', and the master lover.

She was now dancing with one of the mamas (old uncles) who was mimicking a move he had seen on TV on a late night song program (Midnight Masala) where they played raunchy numbers. The elder was nearly half down on his haunches and lips were close to her tummy. She was moving in rhythm as is smearing her pussy on all of his body.

And yet her eyes were searching for her ultimate man, the strong, well-muscled and virile Sudhir uncle. That is what caused her to lose sight of other movements on the crushed dance floor and her drink was jolted, this time causing quite a spill, a spray hitting the face of the older uncle who was kind-of between her legs, gyrating. As the liquid flowed down he put his hand on her back and pulled her close enough to lick the fluid off.

She let him do that in the spontaneity of the moment. But she also needed touch. Her skin shivered as the warm tongue plied on her skin just below her breasts. But if she was going to save her saree she needed to rush to the washroom.

Just as she pushed the door to the rest room open, her blouse fell forward and down, unfettered. Aruna just about managed to hold the front panels to her chest. It could not have come undone on its own! Whose sense of misplaced humor was this? She turned around, temper rising and she gasped as she saw it was her Sudhir Uncle.

As she had broken away from the crowd, so had Sudhir. Just a few steps behind her, he had made his move- he reached out and held the cord of the upper tether to her flimsy blouse. As she walked away it had come undone.

Now her face went beet red and she could feel the flush spread to the roots of her hair, her chest and shot like bolts of electricity to the tips of her nipples as they shot to a ramrod-stiff erectness.

Her Sudhir Uncle was magnificent. Towering over her, broad and strong, with a horizontal smear of sandalwood paste on his forehead that seemed to illuminate his face. Muscular arms, broad chest and he was wearing the traditional mundu – a sarong that men wear in that part of India.

He stepped forward and so close that she had to step back and they were suddenly inside the rest room, alone. It was a small one for one person's use. Not like the large one near the main lobby which had many cubicles. This was nearer the banquet hall of the hotel.

He swiveled her around to face the mirror and stood behind her. He was tantalizingly close to her. They could smell and feel the sexy-hot, sweaty presence of one another.

Ever so gently he held her arms and brought them to her sides, fingers interlaced. The blouse panels fell. She stood exposed to him. In the mirror he saw that her beautiful breasts had more body and bounce than before. She was fully a woman now. Those lovely nipples on which he had feasted before, were desperately asking to be sucked again.

She looked at him devouring her with his eyes and she felt a twinge, a pulse, then a rich flow between her legs. She was ready for him, to be taken. Then his eyes came to her eyes.

"Enda, moley," he asked softly. (How are you?)

She nodded without saying a word. Her throat was choked with desire and feeling. Sudhir's hands left hers and slowly, palms on the sides of her legs, feeling her, he drew up, inch by inch, her clothes. Their eyes were on one another; sometimes meeting, sometimes his eyes roamed her body. When he looked at her, she looked at herself, too. And somehow she seemed and felt sexier with his eyes on her.

All the playful flirtatiousness of the evening and the resultant arousal felt pale in comparison to what Sudhir did to her with just his eyes.

When she felt a waft of cool air on her buttocks she came back to the reality of the situation. She was half opened out in a space in to which anyone could enter with her uncle.

"Not here," she barely whispered. "Anyone could come in."

"I have it locked," he lied. She didn't bother to counter what he said though she knew he didn't have time to do that yet. The desire rushing through her body was overwhelming. Sudhir merely moved his foot to the base of the door to jam it and prevent anyone from pushing it open without his noticing.