Adultery Hot Family Secrets (Updated : July 03)

[opendoor]

-64-



After the *darshan*, we reached the bus stand to head back to our town. While we waited for the bus, Dad kept raking his eyes over my body—well, naturally, anyone would stare like that when I’m wearing a *langa-voni* (half-sari). Along with his gaze, he tried to make a move with his hands a couple of times, but couldn't because Mom was right there. Deliberately, whenever Dad was looking, I would pull my *voni* aside to reveal my navel or adjust my bodice to show off my curves. You should have seen the look in his eyes then; if no one else had been around, he looked ready to crush me in a fit of lust. Just that look was enough to make me feel half-aroused.



After a while, the bus arrived. We found seats, but the only ones available were a single seat next to another woman and a separate two-seater. Since Mom sat next to that woman, Dad and I ended up sitting together. As soon as Dad sat beside me, I said, "Sit properly and don't try any funny business."

"Funny business?" Dad asked, feigning innocence.

"Like what you did at the hotel yesterday," I said firmly.

Even though I said that, I knew Dad wouldn't be able to resist touching me. It wasn't that being touched was a problem, but it would get me all heated up and leave me restless—that was my dilemma. However, contrary to my expectations, Dad didn't make a move on me. He just sat quietly, watching the movie playing on the bus TV. “Hmm... Dad must be done with his business now...” I thought, as I slowly drifted off to sleep.

I don’t know how long I slept, but I woke up feeling something crawling on my thighs. It was Dad’s hand. Wondering if he had placed it there in his sleep or intentionally, I looked at his face. As soon as I looked, he smiled faintly at me. Seeing that, I quickly turned my face away. Dad slowly shifted closer to me. Mom was asleep on the seat across from us. I was anxious that if she woke up while Dad was doing something, we’d get caught. While I was feeling this anxiety, Dad gently pressed his fingers against my thigh. 


I quickly pulled my legs up and said, “No, Dad... Mom is right there, please...” At my words, Dad sat up. Curious as to why, I watched as he took a thin blanket out of the suitcase. Realizing his plan, I thought to myself, “Oh my Dad!” Dad sat next to me, dbangd the blanket over both of us, and said, “It wouldn’t matter if your mom woke up now, would it?”

“Oh... no, Dad, plea...se...”

“No to what?”

“You know—whatever it is you’re planning to do—I don’t want that.”

“What *am* I going to do?”

“You aren’t going to do anything; just go to sleep...”

“Is that why I covered us with the blanket—just to sleep?”

“Tsk... then what is it for?”

In response, Dad placed his hand on my thighs. My legs began to tremble slightly. Still, trying to maintain control, I said, “Don’t, Dad...”

“I won’t do anything much...” he said, gently stroking with his fingers.

I let out a soft sigh and said, “That’s it—don’t do anything beyond that.”

“Can’t I even do this?” he asked, giving a gentle squeeze.

“Oh... ah... Dad...” I gasped.

“Alright, I’ll only do as much as you like—okay?” he said, continuing to gently squeeze my thigh.

As a tingling sensation spread through my body, I involuntarily murmured, “Mm...” Dad moved closer and whispered in my ear, “Thanks for wearing the *langa-voni*.”

“I didn’t wear it *for* you,” I said with a smile.

“Does the reason matter? It’s comfortable, anyway.” Saying this, and in a move I hadn't expected, he used the cover of the *dupatta* to lift my skirt up to my knees.

“Hey...” I started to shout in alarm but checked myself, fearing Mom might wake up. By then, Dad’s hand had already made warm contact with my bare thigh. Tracing patterns with his fingers, he remarked, “Wow... your thighs are so soft...” and began to massage them gently. As Dad massaged me, I felt as though I was floating on air. Then, moving even closer, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me tight against him.

Then, sliding his hand down from my neck to rest over my breasts, he asked, "Have you ever had these squeezed?"

Hearing Dad ask that made me feel incredibly aroused. Amidst that heat, I murmured, "Mm-hmm..."

"So, do you want them squeezed?" he asked, tracing patterns with his fingers. I didn't say a word; I just shifted a little closer to him.

"So, that's a yes? Shall I squeeze them?"

"Oh... Dad..."

"Tell me—should I squeeze them or not?"

"No..."

"No what?"

"You know... *hiss*... don't squeeze..."

"Don't squeeze what!?"

"Hmm... Dad... please..."

"Alright, I'll squeeze them. Undo your blouse hooks."

As soon as Dad said that, my whole body began to tremble.

Dad pressed his fingers lightly against my breasts and said, "Undo them; it'll feel good..."

Even though I wanted to, I felt hesitant.

Noticing this, he asked, "Shall I help you?" My throat went dry, and I just stared at Dad with trembling lips.

Sensing my hesitation, Dad placed his other hand on my blouse. The moment his hand touched me, I felt a surge of desire that made it hard to breathe; my breathing became heavy.

Dad measured both my breasts with his fingers and said, "You've really grown them well—they're perfect for squeezing!" He said. 



As soon as Dad said that, my breasts grew heavy and my nipples hardened. I wished Dad would hurry up and unfasten my blouse. But Dad, acting as if there was no rush, slowly undid the top hook. Feeling a bit of relief, I let out a soft moan.

Dad traced his index finger along the cleavage between my breasts and said, "Oh my... it feels just like touching a lump of butter..." Whether it was his touch or his words, a light sheen of sweat broke out between my breasts. Fondling that area, he said, "Oh... do you know how wonderful it would feel to wipe this sweat away with my tongue?"

“What should I unfasten?”

“Sss... unfasten my blouse...”

“Whose blouse?”

“Your daughter’s.”

“And what should I do after unfastening it?”

“Hmm... uff...”

“Tell me, what should I do?”

“Ah... squeeze...”

“Squeeze what?”

“My... ah... my... balls... Daddy... sss... mmm...”

“They aren't called balls; they have another name... tell me...”

“Hmm... my... sa... saah... breasts...”

“Mm... breasts...”

“Sss... squeeze my breasts, Daddy...”



My whole body was trembling. As soon as I said that, Daddy undid the fourth hook. Panting, I said, “Please, Daddy... undo that one too.”

“What will happen?” he asked, tracing his finger over the fifth hook.

“Your daughter’s breasts are feeling heavy, Daddy...” I said longingly.

Daddy murmured “Mm...” and as he undid the final hook, I felt a sudden sense of release and let out a sigh—*uff*.

Daddy slowly pulled my blouse aside and began gently caressing my breasts through the thin bra. As he caressed them, my heart fluttered wildly. Unable to hold back any longer, I said, “Oh... squeeze them harder, Daddy...”

“The bra is in the way—how can I?” Daddy asked.

Unable to hold back any longer, I reached behind, unhooked my bra, and freed my heavy breasts, letting out a soft "Mmm..." that invited him to squeeze them.

Dad pulled me close, placed his hand on one breast, and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Aah..." I moaned.

As he continued to knead gently, he asked, "Do you like the way your dad squeezes them?" "Mmm..." I murmured, arching my body forward.

"Will you let your dad squeeze them like this every day?" he asked, lightly tweaking my nipple.

"Mm-hmm..." I moaned longingly.

"Oh, you moan so sweetly. Do you know what that makes me want to do to you?"

"Mm... wh-what... w-will... you... do... daddd..."

"Right here..."

"Mm-hmm... daddd..."



"I want to fuck you hard..."

"Mmm... hss..."

"Shall I tell you how I'll fuck you?"

"Mmm..."

"Shall I??"

"Mmm... aah... t-tell me..."

"I won't tell you; I'll show you when the time comes..."

"Oh... hss... Nanna..."

"Mm... mm..."

"Aah... mm..."

"Shall I suck your breasts?"

"Mm..."

"Tell me, should I suck them or not?"

"Hss... oh... suck them, Nanna..." I said, pulling him onto me.

Dad slipped under the covers and planted a kiss between my breasts. Moaning softly, I pressed his head firmly against my bosom and said, "Oh... Dad, what are you doing? Not even caring that I'm your daughter..."

"What *am* I doing?"

"Mm... so... good..."

"Mm... tell me..."

"Sss... you're... driving me wild..."

"Do you know how wonderful it feels to drive one's daughter wild like this?" he asked, taking one of my breasts into his mouth. 



My whole body was breaking into a sweat from the heat of passion. Dad leisurely captured my nipple between his lips and began licking it. His actions made my nerves go haywire; I felt like I was floating on air as I stroked his head and let out soft moans. That touch made me so wet down below that my 'flower' was throbbing with desire.

Perhaps noticing this, Dad stopped sucking my breasts, emerged from the covers, looked into my face, and asked, "How does it feel?"

"Oh, look at you—doing all sorts of things to your daughter and then asking that," I said coyly.

"That’s all well and good, daughter, but tell me—has the heaviness in your breasts been relieved?" he asked, massaging them again.

Unable to catch my breath enough to answer, I just let out a soft, breathless sound.

“So, how does it feel down there?”

“Ah... uff...”

“Tell me...”

“Mm... ah... Da... daddddd...”

“Mm... tell me...”

“Oh God... you’re driving me crazy, Dad...”

“Oh my... my daughter is getting so worked up just from a little touching...”

“Mm... this is the first time a man’s hands have been on you, isn't it?”

“So, my daughter’s virgin treasure is all mine, then. Let me take a look...” Saying this, he slid his hand between my thighs.

As soon as Dad placed his hand there, I spread my legs wide. Dad felt around over my panties and said, “Mm... my daughter’s field is soaking wet.”

As he fondled me, I became even wetter. Meanwhile, he slipped his finger under the edge of my panties and began to gently stroke my pussy lips.

Writhing in sensation, I said, “Sss... Dad... it feels so strange, Dad...”

“It’s itching like crazy, isn't it?”

“Mm...”

“Tell me what needs to be done to satisfy that itch...”

“Mm... sss... I don’t know...”

“Shall I tell you?”

“Sss... mm...”

“Instead of using a finger on that itchy spot...”

“Mm... mm...”

“...you need to rub it with your dad’s cock...”

“Hmm... ah... h...”

“Do you want to see Dad’s cock?”

“Mm... mm... sss...”

“So, shall I take it out?” “Is... mmm... umm...”



“Just a minute...” Dad said, moving to take his hand off my flower, but I quickly grabbed his hand and stopped him.

“Mmm... has it gotten that hot down there?” Dad asked with a smile.

“Well, wouldn't it heat up if you keep teasing it like that?” I asked coyly.

“Then take off your panties. I’ll cool you down,” Dad said.

I glanced around; everyone was fast asleep. Just to be safe, I adjusted the blanket, slowly took off my panties, and was about to set them aside when Dad said, “Here, give them to me...”

“Eww... what for?” I asked shyly.

“They’ve been hiding my daughter’s treasure all this time—won't you let me see?” Dad said.

“Ugh... you have absolutely no shame,” I said, blushing even more.

“After doing all this, why be shy now? Just give them here...” Dad said.

Still blushing, I handed them to him. He took them, inhaled deeply, and said, “Wow... so my daughter’s juices smell this sweet.”

As soon as he said that, I pinched his thigh hard and laughed, “Ouch... you really have no shame.”

“That’s nothing yet. Let me get your juices flowing first—then I’ll tell you...” Dad said.

At his words, I felt a sudden, intense throb in my flower. Unable to hold back any longer, I pulled Dad’s hand between my thighs and moaned, “Mmm...” Dad gently caressed my "flower," murmuring, "My, it’s gotten so hot..." as he pressed his thumb lightly where the petals met.

I jumped slightly and hissed, "Sss..." Just as he was tracing between the petals with his finger and about to press the  clitoris, the bus lights suddenly flickered on; startled, we both quickly adjusted ourselves and sat up straight. The bus had stopped in a village, and some passengers were getting off.

Still under the cover of the blanket, I quickly fastened my blouse hooks. Seeing the seat next to her had become vacant, Mom asked me to come over. "It's okay, Mom; I'll stay right here," I said. 



"Come here, dear. Dad wants to get some sleep there," Mom replied. Afraid she might scold me if I kept stalling, I moved over to sit next to Mom and glanced at Dad. Seeing him looking crestfallen, I teased him with a playful grimace and pulled the blanket over my head.

Tulasi stopped the narration

By the time she completed her narration, Smitha was literally squeezing her papa’s lund over his lungi as the narration was so hot and both dad and daughter couldn’t control their desires and they were hugging and kissing in front of Tulasi leaving her high and dry. The story was so erotic that its hard for any one to control their emotions and Santhosh and Smitha became one.. hugging tight and squeezing each other

After completing her narration Tulasi also joined them and she was more bolder than Smitha in not just narration but in reality also. She removed her top and sat on the other side of uncle whom she adored till then as her loving dad !!!