18-06-2019, 08:00 PM
Chapter 9
Return to the market - Part II
Both me and this butcher's nephew (his name was Puchu, as I came to know later) peered through the hole in the wall. The hut was not very spacious - about seven feet in length and five feet in breadth - and most of it was occupied by a wooden cot which was placed against the wall. Owing to the cot, there was little room for any kind of walking or movement. Perhaps when the butcher, Nayan, was tired after a hard day's work, he would come inside to take a break. At the corner of the wall, beside the bed, there was a huge "kalash" kept on top of a tall stool.
My mom and the butcher were both inside. I could see a hint of trepidation on her face and a glow of lust on his. Nayan was wearing a tank ("sando genji" in Bengali) that was torn in several spots and a lungi. I was feeling a little worried about my mother being inside that hut alone with the same man who only a few days ago was fantasizing about fucking her and also about showing her off to this strange lowborn boy. Puchu, for some reason, looked quite excited.
There was a speckle of goat blood on her lips, some on her chin, some on her neck and some on the naked upper portion of her chest where the saree wasn't covering. "Didi, prothome ekta kaj kori. Apnar sorir er jei jei jaygae pocha rokto ta lege ache, sei jaega gulo age bhalo kore ekta bheja kapor diye rogre dhuye di." ("Didi, first let us do one thing. The places on your body that have this stale blood, I'll rub them off with a wet cloth.")
My mother was genuinely confused. She obviously felt that this low class butcher somehow knew more about the issue on goat's blood than her and therefore, she nodded her head in approval.
Almost immediately Nayan grabbed a small silk towel hanging from his wall and took it near the "kalash". I realized that the "kalash" was filled with water when he opened the lid and poured some water on the towel, making it thoroughly wet. He then squeezed some of the excess water out and then brought it to my mom.
When he came in front of my mother, he was just standing there and was measuring her with his eyes. Feeling a little irritated by his eye movements, she cried, "Ki dekcho" ("What are you looking at")
The butcher smiled at her and said, "Na asole, didi, apnake aaj jhakaas dekhte lagche." ("No, actually, Didi, you're looking very hot today.")
My mother giggled at the comment. However, she decided not to show her excitement in front of this low class man. "Baje kotha bolo na. Dao dekhi, amay gamcha ta dao." ("Don't talk nonsense. Come on, give me the towel.") She tried to snatch the towel away from Nayan but he lifted it out of her reach.
"Didi, ek muhurto daran." ("Didi, wait a second.") My mother looked at him questioningly. "Apnake jodi ei towel ta die di tahle ki kore hobe Apni toh thik moton janeno na je apnar sorir er kon kon ongshe nongra ta lege ache. Ar amar kache aynao nei je ami apnake dekhabo. Tar theke bhalo hoye apni borong soja hoye daran ar ami jaegagulo gamcha diye muche dichi." ("If I give you the towel then how will it work You don't even know where the stains are, on your body. And I don't even have a mirror to show you. It's better if you just stand still and I'll wipe the marks off your body using the towel.")
The butcher's words made sense, at least to my naive mother. "Acha thikache. Kintu taratari korbe." ("Okay, fine. But do it fast.")
Once he got permission from my mom, there was no stopping him. A wicked smile manifested on his face as took the towel and started slowly rubbing it on her cheeks. The feel of the rough wet surface of the towel on her smooth cheeks made her tremble a little. She had her eyes closed fearing that if the towel hits her eyes then she'll be temporarily blinded. Nayan was taking full advantage of that - openly scratching his dick over his lungi. After rubbing her cheeks with the wet towel, he proceeded towards her chin. Slowly and meticulously he grazed the towel over her chin, biding his time and taking great pleasure in his work. Then, he moved to her luscious lips. He smudged the towel over her lips making them look wet and juicy. In the pretext of rubbing the towel, he also lightly grazed his thumb over her lips. My mother didn't seem to respond to his indirect touches and this probably made him even bolder as he now started parting her swollen lips with his thumb. As soon as her lips were parted, he slowly inserted him thumb inside her mouth. I thought my mother would now open her eyes and slap the taste out of this bloody butcher's mouth. But instead her eyes remained closed and I noticed beads of sweat forming on her forehead.
The butcher then slowly started taking his thumb in and out of my mother's mouth. And everytime his thumb came out, I noticed that it was glistening with saliva. Suddenly, Puchu who was standing beside me said, "Isshhh dekchis tor ma ki korche Amar Mamar buro angul chatche dariye dariye!" ("Isshhh do you see what your mother is doing She's sucking on my uncle's thumb!") Yes! That's exactly what she was doing. She was sucking on this low-class man's thumb! But how could she She's a married woman who's always been loyal to my father. I guess today's erotic events with Haria and the fact that it had ended prematurely, left her unsatisfied and that is why she was involuntarily responding to this butcher's lewd acts. But the action had just begun.
After a few seconds of sucking, the butcher took his thumb out of her mouth and his eyes were once again roaming over her mature luscious sari-clad body. Slightly annoyed by his sudden stoppage, my mother opened her eyes and said, "Ki holo Hotath theme gele je" ("What happened Why did you stop")
He was staring at the exposed upper portions of her breasts now and seeing that my mother immediately adjusted her saree. Nayan then looked up at her and said, "Na, didi, byapar ta holo apnar buker oporeo kichu jaegae rokto lege ache. Tai..." ("No, Didi, the thing is that there's a little bit of blood on your chest as well. So..."), he hesitated for a second and then continued, "...apni jodi saree pallu ta khule den tahle subidhe hoe." ("...if you can just remove your pallu, then it'll be easier for me.")
My mother appeared to be shocked. "Ki Pallu keno sorate hobe" ("What Why do you want me to remove my pallu")
Nayan immediately replied. "Arey didi bojhar chesta korun! Pallu na sorale ami bhalo kore muchbo ki kore jaega ta. Aar ekhuni bhalo kore na muchle oi dag ta roe jabe. Ete ashuk hote pare apnar." ("Didi try and understand! If you don't remove the pallu then how can I clean that portion. And if I don't clean it properly then the mark will remain. This could cause sickness.")
My gullible mother was incredibly germophobic. When she heard that she could get sick, she said, "Thikache. Thikache. Sorachi pallu." ("Okay. Okay. I'm removing my pallu.") With that she grabbed her pallu and removed it from her chest completely, and it slumped on the ground.
Nayan's face lit up when he saw my mother in that tight red blouse. Since she was wearing a bra underneath her blouse, her mature coconuts appeared firmer and more alluring. His eyes were fixated on the small valley created between the upper portions of her twin peaks, occasionally dropping down to steal glances at her fleshy midriff and deep round juicy navel. At this point, my mom was staring up at the asbestos ceiling. I'm sure she knew the looks this low class butcher was giving her and was embarrassed to maintain eye contact. She was deftly afraid of diseases and the prospect of getting sick. I think that is why she agreed to this attempted molesting.
I looked over at Puchu who seemed to be grinning from ear to ear. Obviously this wasn't the first time he had spied on his mama when he was performing lewd acts with his customers.
Anyways, Nayan started with the wet towel again. He began by rubbing the base of her neck first. My mother had closed her eyes again. A woman's neck is said to be a very sensitive area. The butcher began moving the wet towel over her neck in a manner suggesting a form of stroking. Soon, he replaced the wet towel with a couple of his fingers, lightly stroking that area - feeling the smoothness of her skin with his fingers. Then he moved the towel to the top of her boobs and slowly began rubbing it over the exposed portion. I doubt he actually cared about the blood marks. He just wanted to touch and fondle a mature lady's tits. My mother's breathing became heavier and her blouse-covered milk tanks were rhythmically rising and falling with each breath. Soon, his fingers were all over her big boppers. He partially gripped her right mammary with his hand causing my mother to let out a gulp. He seemed to have been adequately pumped up touching a full-grown womans breasts unhindered, over her blouse and brassiere. Moreover, my mom appeared to be shivering getting a direct feel of male fingers trying to grab her boob flesh. I smiled to myself seeing the slyness of this low class butcher. He was feeling my mother's hot body like he was her lover!
Nayan might have been encouraged owing to the silent affirmation from my mother, as he indulged in all sorts of sexual pranks, including pressing her boob flesh with his fingers from the front, poking the nipple with his thumb, gliding his fingers over her blouse assessing the smoothness and firmness of her mountains, and trying to push it up by cupping it from below.
Return to the market - Part II
Both me and this butcher's nephew (his name was Puchu, as I came to know later) peered through the hole in the wall. The hut was not very spacious - about seven feet in length and five feet in breadth - and most of it was occupied by a wooden cot which was placed against the wall. Owing to the cot, there was little room for any kind of walking or movement. Perhaps when the butcher, Nayan, was tired after a hard day's work, he would come inside to take a break. At the corner of the wall, beside the bed, there was a huge "kalash" kept on top of a tall stool.
My mom and the butcher were both inside. I could see a hint of trepidation on her face and a glow of lust on his. Nayan was wearing a tank ("sando genji" in Bengali) that was torn in several spots and a lungi. I was feeling a little worried about my mother being inside that hut alone with the same man who only a few days ago was fantasizing about fucking her and also about showing her off to this strange lowborn boy. Puchu, for some reason, looked quite excited.
There was a speckle of goat blood on her lips, some on her chin, some on her neck and some on the naked upper portion of her chest where the saree wasn't covering. "Didi, prothome ekta kaj kori. Apnar sorir er jei jei jaygae pocha rokto ta lege ache, sei jaega gulo age bhalo kore ekta bheja kapor diye rogre dhuye di." ("Didi, first let us do one thing. The places on your body that have this stale blood, I'll rub them off with a wet cloth.")
My mother was genuinely confused. She obviously felt that this low class butcher somehow knew more about the issue on goat's blood than her and therefore, she nodded her head in approval.
Almost immediately Nayan grabbed a small silk towel hanging from his wall and took it near the "kalash". I realized that the "kalash" was filled with water when he opened the lid and poured some water on the towel, making it thoroughly wet. He then squeezed some of the excess water out and then brought it to my mom.
When he came in front of my mother, he was just standing there and was measuring her with his eyes. Feeling a little irritated by his eye movements, she cried, "Ki dekcho" ("What are you looking at")
The butcher smiled at her and said, "Na asole, didi, apnake aaj jhakaas dekhte lagche." ("No, actually, Didi, you're looking very hot today.")
My mother giggled at the comment. However, she decided not to show her excitement in front of this low class man. "Baje kotha bolo na. Dao dekhi, amay gamcha ta dao." ("Don't talk nonsense. Come on, give me the towel.") She tried to snatch the towel away from Nayan but he lifted it out of her reach.
"Didi, ek muhurto daran." ("Didi, wait a second.") My mother looked at him questioningly. "Apnake jodi ei towel ta die di tahle ki kore hobe Apni toh thik moton janeno na je apnar sorir er kon kon ongshe nongra ta lege ache. Ar amar kache aynao nei je ami apnake dekhabo. Tar theke bhalo hoye apni borong soja hoye daran ar ami jaegagulo gamcha diye muche dichi." ("If I give you the towel then how will it work You don't even know where the stains are, on your body. And I don't even have a mirror to show you. It's better if you just stand still and I'll wipe the marks off your body using the towel.")
The butcher's words made sense, at least to my naive mother. "Acha thikache. Kintu taratari korbe." ("Okay, fine. But do it fast.")
Once he got permission from my mom, there was no stopping him. A wicked smile manifested on his face as took the towel and started slowly rubbing it on her cheeks. The feel of the rough wet surface of the towel on her smooth cheeks made her tremble a little. She had her eyes closed fearing that if the towel hits her eyes then she'll be temporarily blinded. Nayan was taking full advantage of that - openly scratching his dick over his lungi. After rubbing her cheeks with the wet towel, he proceeded towards her chin. Slowly and meticulously he grazed the towel over her chin, biding his time and taking great pleasure in his work. Then, he moved to her luscious lips. He smudged the towel over her lips making them look wet and juicy. In the pretext of rubbing the towel, he also lightly grazed his thumb over her lips. My mother didn't seem to respond to his indirect touches and this probably made him even bolder as he now started parting her swollen lips with his thumb. As soon as her lips were parted, he slowly inserted him thumb inside her mouth. I thought my mother would now open her eyes and slap the taste out of this bloody butcher's mouth. But instead her eyes remained closed and I noticed beads of sweat forming on her forehead.
The butcher then slowly started taking his thumb in and out of my mother's mouth. And everytime his thumb came out, I noticed that it was glistening with saliva. Suddenly, Puchu who was standing beside me said, "Isshhh dekchis tor ma ki korche Amar Mamar buro angul chatche dariye dariye!" ("Isshhh do you see what your mother is doing She's sucking on my uncle's thumb!") Yes! That's exactly what she was doing. She was sucking on this low-class man's thumb! But how could she She's a married woman who's always been loyal to my father. I guess today's erotic events with Haria and the fact that it had ended prematurely, left her unsatisfied and that is why she was involuntarily responding to this butcher's lewd acts. But the action had just begun.
After a few seconds of sucking, the butcher took his thumb out of her mouth and his eyes were once again roaming over her mature luscious sari-clad body. Slightly annoyed by his sudden stoppage, my mother opened her eyes and said, "Ki holo Hotath theme gele je" ("What happened Why did you stop")
He was staring at the exposed upper portions of her breasts now and seeing that my mother immediately adjusted her saree. Nayan then looked up at her and said, "Na, didi, byapar ta holo apnar buker oporeo kichu jaegae rokto lege ache. Tai..." ("No, Didi, the thing is that there's a little bit of blood on your chest as well. So..."), he hesitated for a second and then continued, "...apni jodi saree pallu ta khule den tahle subidhe hoe." ("...if you can just remove your pallu, then it'll be easier for me.")
My mother appeared to be shocked. "Ki Pallu keno sorate hobe" ("What Why do you want me to remove my pallu")
Nayan immediately replied. "Arey didi bojhar chesta korun! Pallu na sorale ami bhalo kore muchbo ki kore jaega ta. Aar ekhuni bhalo kore na muchle oi dag ta roe jabe. Ete ashuk hote pare apnar." ("Didi try and understand! If you don't remove the pallu then how can I clean that portion. And if I don't clean it properly then the mark will remain. This could cause sickness.")
My gullible mother was incredibly germophobic. When she heard that she could get sick, she said, "Thikache. Thikache. Sorachi pallu." ("Okay. Okay. I'm removing my pallu.") With that she grabbed her pallu and removed it from her chest completely, and it slumped on the ground.
Nayan's face lit up when he saw my mother in that tight red blouse. Since she was wearing a bra underneath her blouse, her mature coconuts appeared firmer and more alluring. His eyes were fixated on the small valley created between the upper portions of her twin peaks, occasionally dropping down to steal glances at her fleshy midriff and deep round juicy navel. At this point, my mom was staring up at the asbestos ceiling. I'm sure she knew the looks this low class butcher was giving her and was embarrassed to maintain eye contact. She was deftly afraid of diseases and the prospect of getting sick. I think that is why she agreed to this attempted molesting.
I looked over at Puchu who seemed to be grinning from ear to ear. Obviously this wasn't the first time he had spied on his mama when he was performing lewd acts with his customers.
Anyways, Nayan started with the wet towel again. He began by rubbing the base of her neck first. My mother had closed her eyes again. A woman's neck is said to be a very sensitive area. The butcher began moving the wet towel over her neck in a manner suggesting a form of stroking. Soon, he replaced the wet towel with a couple of his fingers, lightly stroking that area - feeling the smoothness of her skin with his fingers. Then he moved the towel to the top of her boobs and slowly began rubbing it over the exposed portion. I doubt he actually cared about the blood marks. He just wanted to touch and fondle a mature lady's tits. My mother's breathing became heavier and her blouse-covered milk tanks were rhythmically rising and falling with each breath. Soon, his fingers were all over her big boppers. He partially gripped her right mammary with his hand causing my mother to let out a gulp. He seemed to have been adequately pumped up touching a full-grown womans breasts unhindered, over her blouse and brassiere. Moreover, my mom appeared to be shivering getting a direct feel of male fingers trying to grab her boob flesh. I smiled to myself seeing the slyness of this low class butcher. He was feeling my mother's hot body like he was her lover!
Nayan might have been encouraged owing to the silent affirmation from my mother, as he indulged in all sorts of sexual pranks, including pressing her boob flesh with his fingers from the front, poking the nipple with his thumb, gliding his fingers over her blouse assessing the smoothness and firmness of her mountains, and trying to push it up by cupping it from below.
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