19-12-2018, 12:58 PM
Part - 58
I saw her twist to one side, clamping her thighs together, and shake her head in denial, as she hid her face in her hands, as if refusing to accept that her self respect had been stripped bare in front of me. Responding with alacrity, I slid down the bed quickly, and was by her side in a flash. Partly lying down by her side, I tried to wrap my arms around her body, which she had now rolled up into a ball, laying on her side.
Her body was heaving with the huge sobs that wracked her body once again, and for a moment I was seized with regret at having broken her bubble. Taking a deep breath, I wrapped my strong arms around her, and laying down by her side, held her in my arms, gently caressing her back, even as I kept whispering repeatedly "It's OK, bhabhi ... it's OK..." praying that she would stop crying, and stop hating herself for having been stripped bare in front of me.
I tried to pry her hands away from her face, but she resisted me fiercely, drawing up her knees to her belly, and refusing to let me look at her, even as her body continued to be wracked by sobs. After what seemed like an eternity, I felt her sobs finally begin to subside, and her tense body begin to relax. As I lay there by her side, holding her by her shoulders, I felt that the pillow beneath her was soaked with her tears. As she blew her nose, I gently pried her hands open, and cupped her face in my own hands.
"Bhabhi ... I love you..." I said simply, as she finally opened her teary eyes, and looked into my eyes, blinking rapidly, as the tears continued to flow down her cheeks. In the pale neon light streaming from the open window, I could see that her milky white cheeks were flushed red with embarrassment and shame, as was her nose, which was swollen.
Her lips just did not stop quivering, and she kept shaking her head from side to side, muttering something unintelligible under her breath, as if cursing herself for something. "I love you, bhabhi..." I repeated hoarsely, and on an instinct, pressed my parched lips to hers.
She froze, and shrunk back in revulsion, before relaxing, I kept my lips pressed to hers, and held her by placing my hand on her back, as I kept placing tiny kisses all over her face, repeating the same thing over and over again in an attempt to get her under control. Eventually, she quit fighting me, and looked at me bleary eyes, her lips moving soundlessly.
With a little cry, she flung her arms around my neck and buried her face against my shoulder, clinging on to me like a small child. I felt tenderness wash all over me, as I held her in my arms, gently caressing her back, and whispering sweet nothings into her ears. Slowly, her body relaxed, and her breathing regained some semblance of normalcy.
As I propped myself up on my elbows, and gazed at her lovingly, she looked into my eyes with an utterly helpless expression on her face. Bringing my face to hers, I kissed her tenderly on her lush lips again. This time, she responded by parting her lips, and with a groan, I slipped my tongue into her mouth. As our tongues intertwined, I heard her emit a little groan, and wrap her arms round my back, pulling my body towards hers.
We lay like that, facing each other on our side, kissing passionately, and holding on to each other as if hanging on for dear life. As her lush body and heavy breasts pressed against mine, I found my cock hardening once again, and press against her fleshy belly. Since I had removed my underwear some time back, my erect phallus was sticking out like a pole from the front of the lungi, and the wet swollen tip was nuzzling against her belly.
As I gently pulled my lips away from hers, I gazed at her lovingly for a while. She too looked into my eyes in the semi-darkness, her lips quivering. It was as there was an outpouring waiting to come out of lips, but she didn't know where to start from.
I could empathize with her predicament. I could relate to what would have been going through her mind. A neighborhood boy had come out of nowhere into her life, and had suddenly become her benefactor, offering to support her family financially, when her able bodied husband couldn't. On account of her pathetic domestic situation, she had been forced to offer herself to this young boy, in return for monetary support.
If that didn't break a woman's self-esteem, and make her feel like a whore, what did? As if that wasn't humiliating enough, the same boy had now seen with his own eyes, how badly her husband treated her, both under lights, and after that lights had been put out. Every housewife tried her best to project the picture of domestic bliss to the outside world, for having nothing else to show for herself, a 'happy family' was the only thing she could cling on to.
And to cap it all, she had now been stripped of the last vestige of dignity, when this 'outsider' had also seen her succumb to her own sexuality, and her latent sexual desires that simmered under the facade of a decent housewife. As she lay on her side next to me, knees bent, one hand tucked under her cheek, and the other repeatedly clutching and releasing her disheveled saree on her hips, I almost felt morally obligated to her in some way.
Her blouse was open, and her thin white cotton bra, undone at the back, was pushed up above those magnificent 34-D jugs of hers. Her loosened saree and the white petticoat underneath were also in disarray, having been pulled up above her knees. But as I gazed at her lovely milky white face, flushed red with her tears, it seemed to me that she was scarcely aware of her own nudity.
As I lay there, my head propped up by in the palm of my left hand, the elbow resting on the mattress, absent mindedly playing the the strands of her hair behind her ear lobes, I realized that we were both communicating with each other through our eyes, words having suddenly become redundant.
Looking into the limpid pools of her moist eyes, I said softly "Nothing has changed, bhabhi ... nothing has changed..." hoping my words would convey what I intended to. She stared into my eyes for a moment, as if to read my mind, before nodding her head slowly, her lips quivering.
I realized that the only way to distract her from her current state of self-pity was to divert her attention to my own sexual arousal. My throbbing hard cock was fully erect now, and still pressed against the fleshy folds of her belly. Looking earnestly in to her eyes, I whispered huskily "Bhabhi ... I need you..." my voice a croak.
She continued to gaze into my eyes, unable to fathom what I was saying. So I took her hand, which was resting on her hips, and guided it to my throbbing penis, that stood crying for attention between my legs. As her soft fingers came in contact with the hot skin of my rigid cock, she suddenly seemed to come out of her reverie.
She blinked rapidly a couple of times, and swallowed involuntarily. Nodding her head slowly, she closed her soft fleshy fingers around the hard shaft of my cock, gently tugging at it. Sliding my hand upwards towards her belly, I gently cupped one of her swollen milk-filled breasts in my hand, and squeezed it gently.
The milky white smooth skin of her 34-D jugs felt so hot to my touch that I was tempted to squeeze them roughly. Instead, I just gently caressed them, feeling the wetness on her thick pinkish-brown milk-feeding nipples, and said to her softly "Bhabhi ... always remember this ... any man would be privileged to have a wife like you ... and I ... will always love you ... no matter what..." meaning every word of what I said.
Other than the loving Kalpana bhabhi, if there was one woman who'd touched me this way, it was her. Her eyes blinked rapidly upon hearing my words, and as her lips quivered with emotion, I saw a solitary tear roll down her cheek. Continuing to gently fondle her swollen papaya-shaped breasts, I kissed her softly on the lips.
I felt her fingers close instinctively around the hot steely shaft of my cock, as I kissed her. I gently pushed her on to her back, and swung my right thigh over hers, my quivering cock pressing against the folds of her saree & petticoat at her pelvis, where they were bunched together. Leaning on top of her, I brought my mouth to those incredibly erotic mammaries of hers, and began to run my tongue over them.
Her fingers automatically clutched the hair at the back of my head, and an involuntary sigh escaped her lips as I did that. Sliding my palm upwards from her belly, I cupped one of those milk swollen breasts in my hand, and began to run my tongue in circles around her erect nipples. The smell of her breast milk assailed my nostrils, and it only served to arouse me further. Tenderly, I licked the fleshy jugs of her magnificent breasts, occasionally flicking my tongue across her turgid thick nipples.
Sensing some movement on the other side of where she lay, I froze. Her 3-year old daughter, who lay sleeping next to us, had turned in her sleep. As I froze, my breath caught in my throat, I felt Alka bhabhi tug at my hair with urgency and pull my face towards her breasts again. As I brought my mouth to her breasts again, I realized that in households like this, perhaps it was perfectly normal for parents to have sex, right next to their sleeping children.
With a soft groan, I opened my mouth wide, and took the swollen tip of her breasts into my mouth. I felt her squirm under me, as I began to suck on her mammary flesh, my tongue lashing against her incredibly aroused and thick nipples. Suddenly, I felt her grab hold of my shoulder, and push me away. A sudden urgency seemed to have come into her, as she pushed me back by my shoulder on to my back.
Beginning to breathe faster, she propped herself up on her elbow, and swung her thigh across mine, just the way I had done her. It was almost as if she had suddenly decided to give in to her desires, and take me. There was always a latent aggressiveness lurking inside women who had been suppressed most of their lives, and such was her display of passion, that it turned me on immensely.
I watched mesmerized, as she cupped one of her heavy dangling breasts, and hefting it in the small palm of her hand, offered it to my parched lips. As I found myself opening my mouth, she fed me her swollen milk-laden breast, just as she would do to breast feed a child. I felt her fingers squeeze the tip of her disproportionately swollen breasts, and was rewarded by a spurt of thin luke-warm breast milk squirting out of her engorged nipples.
I saw her twist to one side, clamping her thighs together, and shake her head in denial, as she hid her face in her hands, as if refusing to accept that her self respect had been stripped bare in front of me. Responding with alacrity, I slid down the bed quickly, and was by her side in a flash. Partly lying down by her side, I tried to wrap my arms around her body, which she had now rolled up into a ball, laying on her side.
Her body was heaving with the huge sobs that wracked her body once again, and for a moment I was seized with regret at having broken her bubble. Taking a deep breath, I wrapped my strong arms around her, and laying down by her side, held her in my arms, gently caressing her back, even as I kept whispering repeatedly "It's OK, bhabhi ... it's OK..." praying that she would stop crying, and stop hating herself for having been stripped bare in front of me.
I tried to pry her hands away from her face, but she resisted me fiercely, drawing up her knees to her belly, and refusing to let me look at her, even as her body continued to be wracked by sobs. After what seemed like an eternity, I felt her sobs finally begin to subside, and her tense body begin to relax. As I lay there by her side, holding her by her shoulders, I felt that the pillow beneath her was soaked with her tears. As she blew her nose, I gently pried her hands open, and cupped her face in my own hands.
"Bhabhi ... I love you..." I said simply, as she finally opened her teary eyes, and looked into my eyes, blinking rapidly, as the tears continued to flow down her cheeks. In the pale neon light streaming from the open window, I could see that her milky white cheeks were flushed red with embarrassment and shame, as was her nose, which was swollen.
Her lips just did not stop quivering, and she kept shaking her head from side to side, muttering something unintelligible under her breath, as if cursing herself for something. "I love you, bhabhi..." I repeated hoarsely, and on an instinct, pressed my parched lips to hers.
She froze, and shrunk back in revulsion, before relaxing, I kept my lips pressed to hers, and held her by placing my hand on her back, as I kept placing tiny kisses all over her face, repeating the same thing over and over again in an attempt to get her under control. Eventually, she quit fighting me, and looked at me bleary eyes, her lips moving soundlessly.
With a little cry, she flung her arms around my neck and buried her face against my shoulder, clinging on to me like a small child. I felt tenderness wash all over me, as I held her in my arms, gently caressing her back, and whispering sweet nothings into her ears. Slowly, her body relaxed, and her breathing regained some semblance of normalcy.
As I propped myself up on my elbows, and gazed at her lovingly, she looked into my eyes with an utterly helpless expression on her face. Bringing my face to hers, I kissed her tenderly on her lush lips again. This time, she responded by parting her lips, and with a groan, I slipped my tongue into her mouth. As our tongues intertwined, I heard her emit a little groan, and wrap her arms round my back, pulling my body towards hers.
We lay like that, facing each other on our side, kissing passionately, and holding on to each other as if hanging on for dear life. As her lush body and heavy breasts pressed against mine, I found my cock hardening once again, and press against her fleshy belly. Since I had removed my underwear some time back, my erect phallus was sticking out like a pole from the front of the lungi, and the wet swollen tip was nuzzling against her belly.
As I gently pulled my lips away from hers, I gazed at her lovingly for a while. She too looked into my eyes in the semi-darkness, her lips quivering. It was as there was an outpouring waiting to come out of lips, but she didn't know where to start from.
I could empathize with her predicament. I could relate to what would have been going through her mind. A neighborhood boy had come out of nowhere into her life, and had suddenly become her benefactor, offering to support her family financially, when her able bodied husband couldn't. On account of her pathetic domestic situation, she had been forced to offer herself to this young boy, in return for monetary support.
If that didn't break a woman's self-esteem, and make her feel like a whore, what did? As if that wasn't humiliating enough, the same boy had now seen with his own eyes, how badly her husband treated her, both under lights, and after that lights had been put out. Every housewife tried her best to project the picture of domestic bliss to the outside world, for having nothing else to show for herself, a 'happy family' was the only thing she could cling on to.
And to cap it all, she had now been stripped of the last vestige of dignity, when this 'outsider' had also seen her succumb to her own sexuality, and her latent sexual desires that simmered under the facade of a decent housewife. As she lay on her side next to me, knees bent, one hand tucked under her cheek, and the other repeatedly clutching and releasing her disheveled saree on her hips, I almost felt morally obligated to her in some way.
Her blouse was open, and her thin white cotton bra, undone at the back, was pushed up above those magnificent 34-D jugs of hers. Her loosened saree and the white petticoat underneath were also in disarray, having been pulled up above her knees. But as I gazed at her lovely milky white face, flushed red with her tears, it seemed to me that she was scarcely aware of her own nudity.
As I lay there, my head propped up by in the palm of my left hand, the elbow resting on the mattress, absent mindedly playing the the strands of her hair behind her ear lobes, I realized that we were both communicating with each other through our eyes, words having suddenly become redundant.
Looking into the limpid pools of her moist eyes, I said softly "Nothing has changed, bhabhi ... nothing has changed..." hoping my words would convey what I intended to. She stared into my eyes for a moment, as if to read my mind, before nodding her head slowly, her lips quivering.
I realized that the only way to distract her from her current state of self-pity was to divert her attention to my own sexual arousal. My throbbing hard cock was fully erect now, and still pressed against the fleshy folds of her belly. Looking earnestly in to her eyes, I whispered huskily "Bhabhi ... I need you..." my voice a croak.
She continued to gaze into my eyes, unable to fathom what I was saying. So I took her hand, which was resting on her hips, and guided it to my throbbing penis, that stood crying for attention between my legs. As her soft fingers came in contact with the hot skin of my rigid cock, she suddenly seemed to come out of her reverie.
She blinked rapidly a couple of times, and swallowed involuntarily. Nodding her head slowly, she closed her soft fleshy fingers around the hard shaft of my cock, gently tugging at it. Sliding my hand upwards towards her belly, I gently cupped one of her swollen milk-filled breasts in my hand, and squeezed it gently.
The milky white smooth skin of her 34-D jugs felt so hot to my touch that I was tempted to squeeze them roughly. Instead, I just gently caressed them, feeling the wetness on her thick pinkish-brown milk-feeding nipples, and said to her softly "Bhabhi ... always remember this ... any man would be privileged to have a wife like you ... and I ... will always love you ... no matter what..." meaning every word of what I said.
Other than the loving Kalpana bhabhi, if there was one woman who'd touched me this way, it was her. Her eyes blinked rapidly upon hearing my words, and as her lips quivered with emotion, I saw a solitary tear roll down her cheek. Continuing to gently fondle her swollen papaya-shaped breasts, I kissed her softly on the lips.
I felt her fingers close instinctively around the hot steely shaft of my cock, as I kissed her. I gently pushed her on to her back, and swung my right thigh over hers, my quivering cock pressing against the folds of her saree & petticoat at her pelvis, where they were bunched together. Leaning on top of her, I brought my mouth to those incredibly erotic mammaries of hers, and began to run my tongue over them.
Her fingers automatically clutched the hair at the back of my head, and an involuntary sigh escaped her lips as I did that. Sliding my palm upwards from her belly, I cupped one of those milk swollen breasts in my hand, and began to run my tongue in circles around her erect nipples. The smell of her breast milk assailed my nostrils, and it only served to arouse me further. Tenderly, I licked the fleshy jugs of her magnificent breasts, occasionally flicking my tongue across her turgid thick nipples.
Sensing some movement on the other side of where she lay, I froze. Her 3-year old daughter, who lay sleeping next to us, had turned in her sleep. As I froze, my breath caught in my throat, I felt Alka bhabhi tug at my hair with urgency and pull my face towards her breasts again. As I brought my mouth to her breasts again, I realized that in households like this, perhaps it was perfectly normal for parents to have sex, right next to their sleeping children.
With a soft groan, I opened my mouth wide, and took the swollen tip of her breasts into my mouth. I felt her squirm under me, as I began to suck on her mammary flesh, my tongue lashing against her incredibly aroused and thick nipples. Suddenly, I felt her grab hold of my shoulder, and push me away. A sudden urgency seemed to have come into her, as she pushed me back by my shoulder on to my back.
Beginning to breathe faster, she propped herself up on her elbow, and swung her thigh across mine, just the way I had done her. It was almost as if she had suddenly decided to give in to her desires, and take me. There was always a latent aggressiveness lurking inside women who had been suppressed most of their lives, and such was her display of passion, that it turned me on immensely.
I watched mesmerized, as she cupped one of her heavy dangling breasts, and hefting it in the small palm of her hand, offered it to my parched lips. As I found myself opening my mouth, she fed me her swollen milk-laden breast, just as she would do to breast feed a child. I felt her fingers squeeze the tip of her disproportionately swollen breasts, and was rewarded by a spurt of thin luke-warm breast milk squirting out of her engorged nipples.
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