Adultery A Thakur and His Bahu by misterwho

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Thakurain's instinctive touch opened Binita to offer herself. She ground herself into her mother-in-law's open and milking hand. Simultaneously, her pussy ground against the palm between her legs to provide relief from the instantaneous build up of erotic tension.

Binita clung onto Thakurain, like a leaf in a storm. But the fluttering in her own inner being was a storm in itself. She sighed in contentment at being held by this large maternal bosom and at being caressed by tender understanding hands. Only a woman can know how a woman wants to be loved, she realised.

That realization surprised her. It was her own, an untutored discovery about her own womanhood. She nuzzled the bosom in which her head was buried, her nose seeking out the contours of Thakurain's nipples, straining through the cloth.

No thoughts of restraint even occurred to Thakurain. Illicitness, unusual sexual feelings for another woman, the way she and her daughter-in-law were touching each other, none of these made any impact. The only thing she knew was, they were feeling each other and had feelings for each other.

When the younger woman's nose and lips nuzzled at her nipples, the older woman felt more maternal than ever. Even as her hands continued to caress, probe and investigate Binita's contours, she thrust her large overfull breasts into her face.

Binita needed skin. Her face needed to touch Thakurain's flesh and skin. Frantically she searched Thakurain's blouse for the hooks. Thakurain was wearing a cloth bodice rather than a bra, which is how it is with women of her age and dimensions in traditional India. The nipples, aroused like never before in her lifetime, were clearly protruding through the cloth of the bodice. Thakurain noticed the sexuality of this for the first time, and found it odd that the only other time she remembered her nipples sensitiveness was when her son was born. Those nipples had fed the boy whose wife was now searching for them again.

Those breasts were full and bulging and the bodice was full and bursting. There was no way to reach and open those hooks unless Thakurain was left alone to pull in herself and maneuver those hooks. But stepping apart was impossible for either woman. The older woman wanted to feel and suss out this younger one who had captivated her husband and son. The younger one had her insides boiling with lust at the tender touch of her mother-in-law.

In a fleeting moment of mindless passion, Binita gripped the bodice from the neckline and ripped downward. All the hooks gave way and the breasts spilled out. Binita did not wait a moment to bury her face in Thakurain's breasts, feeling them with her face; the heat on her face seemed to complement the pleasant coolness it encountered on Thakurain's breasts. As she buried herself, Thakurain found the knot of the top of Binita's choli and pulled it open so that the one layer covering her breasts fell away.

She pulled up Binita's face, kissing her on the cheeks and allowing the young woman's mango --like breasts to crush against her large ponderous breasts. Nipples toggled one another and prodded each other into erect nubs.

Binita was now frantic with lust. She searched for Thakurain's lips and kissed them squarely. Thakurain was surprised. She had never ever been kissed on her lips before. Her own husband, in those early days of their marriage had used his lips on her breasts and shoulder and while fucking her he propped himself on his arms so their lips could never really meet.

Binita's lips felt warm and luscious on her lips and Thakurain found herself responding. The maternal warmth was slowly evaporating into a puzzling new kind of feeling in the pit of her stomach. The older woman found herself consumed by lust as the lips played on her lips, as Binita's hands kneaded her breasts and pulled at her nipples feverishly, and as Binita's hips seemed to hump into Thakurain's hips.

Thakurain wanted now to love this girl and smother her. Her hands searched under the ghagra as she searched for ways to return the pleasure. Both women were now grappling with each others breasts and loins, lips locked in a long searching kiss.

"Binita!" called out her husband Pritam from downstairs, "Where are you? Everyone is looking for you?"

Binita made loud smacking kisses as she separated herself from her Maaji, "Abhi aa rahi hoon!" she yelled back. (I am just coming.)

"I am changing into my old white kurta pajama," she called out.

Pritam reflected on what his wife might be doing upstairs. Her ghagra choli had been incredibly sexy. Her bare back and the well supported breasts had all the guys chasing to douse her in water and touch her on the pretext of smearing color powder on her. And now she was probably untying those knots and slipping out of the ghagra. She would be equally appetizing in the white kurta (loose long shirt), because the material was not quite opaque and her undergarments would be well outlined. And as soon as the water was splashed on her nothing would be left to imagination.