To recapitulate the events described in the last few paragraphs of the previous chapter, Balwant had woken up with a start on hearing the soft cries from Varun. Although he was not sure about the time, he guessed it was possibly around 4.00 A.M. That would be a few hours since they had begun sharing his bed, very soon after the cacophony of the rampaging thunder had subsided. Now, however, it was calm outside. He was certain that the baby was crying in hunger and had earnestly made attempts to awaken his daughter-in-law.
Sonam, startled at being shaken out of her sleep, had got up quickly and, holding Varun in her arms, shyly expressing her embarrassment to feed her son in front of her father-in-law. She tried to find excuses, wanting to go to her own bedroom and feed the infant in privacy.
“Babuji… sho ..should I …I g ggo to the other room?” she stammered, wondering if Babuji would excuse himself and leave the room on his own to save her from embarrassment.
“No Bahu, you feed Varun here, on the bed. Don’t feel shy. You are a mother who is going to feed her baby and that’s natural. Come, sit on the bed and take the baby on your lap,” he said, trying to make her easy and to settle comfortably on his bed. Sonam stayed where she was, uncomfortably shifting on the bed and wondering how she could explain what was in her mind.
The patriarch was quick to understand Sonam’s uneasiness in feeding her baby. Even if they had proceeded to stay together in one room and sleep side by side on the master bed, it was another thing for Sonam to part her flimsy nightie and give her nipple to her baby right in front of her father-in-law. He should have realised this, Balwant thought, instead of inconsiderately insisting on her staying in that very room itself to suckle her baby. He rebuked himself inwardly but, at the same time, he made an instant arrangement so that she could at least partially overcome her uneasiness.
Like a considerate father-in-law, he got up, reached into his cupboard, and brought out a thin towel, often called “angocha” in rural India. Made of handloom cotton, it had stripes over its body and the fabric was light in weight. It was big enough to cover the upper portion of Sonam’s body, including her breasts where she would be holding her child while he suckled.
“Here …,” he offered it to Sonam to provide her a semblance of privacy.
Relief from impending embarrassment was written on Sonam’s face as she gratefully accepted the towel, realising quickly that it would help her to cover her taut, dripping nipples and breasts overflowing with milk. She quickly wrapped the towel in the front of her body, running it over her shoulders, breasts and covering her lap too. Balwant saw her working under the towel, as if to open the front buttons of her nightie to release her breasts. Her face still registered the uneasiness and awkwardness in the task in hand, considering their relationship as a bahu (daughter-in-law) and father-in-law.
Having covered her bosom and, with Varun lying cosily on her lap, Sonam held her nipple to the baby’s thirsty mouth. Varun started feeding instantly and suckling sounds could be heard by the patriarch who sat beside her bahu.
It was a wonderful picture of a lactating mother holding her baby and feeding her milk from her overflowing breasts. Honestly, Sonam’s pair was literally about to burst. The patriarch had been pampering his Bahu with the most nutritious food ever since she had returned from Patna. There too, she was fed properly by her own mother. As they always say, the baby gets her nutrition from the mother … feed the mother and you feed the child. No wonder that Sonam’s breasts were too full of healthy milk. And there was enormous relief for Sonam when her baby started to draw out the milk from her swollen breasts, heavy and painful as they were. Caringly, she arranged Varun’s hair, even kissing the baby’s head that was partly visible. The rest of the child lay hidden underneath the ‘angocha’.
Sonam looked up from the child to her father-in-law who kept looking at her intently. Sonam felt grateful to the man for taking so much care of her. She felt happy and seemed to be overcoming the loneliness that she initially felt when Rajesh left. Any bahu would have felt very uneasy in such a situation before her father-in-law, but Sonam had a look of contentment in front of this rugged man. She felt cared, protected and loved, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude expressed itself in her eyes. But for this man and the warmth and care that he offered in a much-needed privacy, she would have felt helpless with her infant son. Both kept quiet, each looking at each other now and then. Sometimes, they smiled when their eyes met, without uttering any word for a while.
“You are okay now, Bahu?” the patriarch suddenly asked, trying to break the stony silence.
Sonam, with a shy smile on her face and lips, nodded her head and said politely, “Ji (yes).”
“Varun seems to be happy now,” he said, and she went red with embarrassment without any apparent reason. To Sonam, however, the child’s present ‘happiness’ was due to her overflowing breasts and she inferred that her Babuji might have alluded to this pair.
But she still nodded her head.
“You have given me a lovely grandson, Bahu,” the patriarch said after a moment, “and brought good fortune to this family.”
She looked up at him. Her face didn’t hide her happiness at the compliment, and she nodded.
“I know you are taking good care of my grandson. Your child will always feel secured beside you wherever he is,” he went on talking to keep the conversation going, “but I felt concerned at his shrieks. A grandfather’s feelings and concerns, you know. I hope you didn’t mind my intrusion in the middle of the night.”
She nodded smilingly. “No, Babuji. I am happy that you came. I was terrified at the thought of being alone. I am terrified of lightning and the deafening thunder sounds that accompany. It is something that has grown since my childhood and I could never overcome this fear. I am feeling better being here in this room with someone around.”
Sonam was being honest. Indeed, she was being drawn more and more to the charisma of this man. There was no more inhibition in sharing this man’s room, sleeping on his bed, suckling her baby in front of him … everything that usually a wife would be prepared to do if the man was her husband. Only thing was that there had to be absolute privacy for, no matter what, they would have to be discreet, and no one should know that they shared one room.
As a bahu, she would be very embarrassed if anyone in the haveli knew about this. She thought of requesting her father-in-law to maintain this privacy but then hesitated. Who was she to suggest? The man was far too elder and would surely know the necessity of discretion, of not letting others in the family have the slightest inkling that the master of the house and a father-in-law shared his bed with his young bahu. True, this was only for the benefit of the child and her mother, but hardly a valid reason for sleeping on the same bed.
Sonam was a bit unmindful when she was thinking about the necessity of privacy but quickly her attention riveted to the baby who seemed to have fallen asleep. No matter how much she tried, Varun would not awaken and Sonam was worried. The baby had fed on only one breast while the other remained untouched and full.
She was already feeling the pain that accompanied her full breasts and if Varun didn’t draw on the milk and ease her discomfort she would feel awful after a while. She prodded her baby a few times, shaking him firmly and even uttering his name to awaken him, but it didn’t serve any purpose. She felt helpless and it was her helplessness that made her turn towards the patriarch sitting right beside her. He possibly sensed her discomfort and asked her if everything was alright.
“Bahu… ummm … is anything bothering you?” The voice didn’t hide his genuine anxiety.
Sonam looked up with a concerned face and said, “He is not feeding anymore.”
“He must be full then. I think you should let him sleep,” he said in conclusion.
“But…” Sonam tried to intervene.
“He might not have been very hungry, Bahu.” He offered an explanation to his bahu.
But she kept on trying to move her son around, patting his back underneath the thin cover, but to no avail. “He is just being naughty. He isn’t feeding anymore.” Her eyes betrayed discomfort and helplessness.
It was then that the discussion between Sonam and her father-in-law turned to something that’s usually shared between a wife and her husband or, in some cases, between a mother and her daughter. Sonam was surprised how gradually she was able to answer these questions despite her shyness. Possibly this was because the man was so very caring to and warm towards Sonam. He was now sitting just beside her. Their bodies touched one another now and then, but no one made any attempt to move away.
At one stage the patriarch asked her softly, “Bahu, are you being fully relieved?”
Such an embarrassing subject and Sonam was red in the face at first. She only shook her head.
When the man asked if she had discussed this with the doctor, she answered that she did, and then told the patriarch exactly what the doctor had said.
“…he is needing less for a few days while I am producing more,” Sonam said. The moment she said this she looked once at the patriarch, and then looked away.
Sitting on the bed, Balwant absorbed what his bahu had just said.
“And does it cause discomfort bahu?” the patriarch followed up, trying to get to the root of the current situation.
Sonam looked very embarrassed and in discomfort, but she could realise that this man was her protector and she had to answer. Yet, something came over Sonam and rather than addressing him as ‘Babuji’ which was a respectable way to address her father-in-law, she made it more personal, dear and loveable by addressing him as ‘papa’, just like a daughter would.
“Yes. papa. It becomes very full, bloated and very painful,” she said, and already there were tears in her eyes because of the pain.
Balwant, at first, was surprised at this sudden change in her way of addressing him. Papa is what one would prefer calling to his or her own father, not usually to a father-in-law. But, Balwant suppressed his surprise, didn’t question her, making her feel that it was a natural expression. In any case, he liked hearing it.
“And when he does not take a full feed, they bloat and are painful,” she said almost in tears. “It hurts, papa.”
“And what did the doctor say about this?” he went on with his salvo of embarrassing questions.
Sonam went silent. She did not know how to respond.
“Bahu…,” He said in a soft whisper, full of feeling and certain there would be valid explanation.
She remained silent, unable to open out further, till the patriarch goaded her again.
“Bahu…,” his voice becoming a little firmer, “you must tell me …or else how would I help you?”
“The doctor said…the doctor said…that the pressure is because of more milk … only lessening the load would bring relief when these are so overly full.”
“Relief? You mean when the child is not feeding on them?” He indicated her breasts with a movement of his head and eyes.
Sonam nodded her head shyly before she said, “Yes, I was told to relieve it … mmmyself”
“How?” There was quizzical look on Balwant’s face.
“The doctor said… to do it wi …with my ha… hands,” Sonam stammered, “or, or… pumping, may be with someone’s help.” She hid her face in her hands.
Balwant realised that it was taking her bahu a lot of courage to share such an intimate and private matter with her father-in-law.
Sonam’s voice was muffled by her hands covering her mouth and face, but Balwant could still hear her bursting into tears and say “And now … now even Rajesh is not here… oh! what will I do … I feel so lonely. Oh! why did he have to leave me?”
The patriarch was overwhelmed on hearing the bahu’s predicament and sorrow. His concern for her and, at the same time, a simmering excitement merged somewhere in his thoughts.
Just then Sonam felt a hand on her shoulder at first and then the hand went across and slid down her naked arm where, just before her elbow, it rested. The patriarch pulled his bahu towards him, and then with the other hand raised her chin.
“Don’t cry bahu, please,” he said seriously but with lots of love, “I’ll feel bad. Remember, I am here to help you and I promise I’ll always do so.” From the chin the hand went up and wiped the tears. With the other hand that was on Sonam’s arm he pulled her towards him. Sonam too was taken in by this gesture and laid her head on his chest, crying on the man’s kurta that soon became wet. The patriarch patted her back, trying to comfort her.
“Come, come Bahu, stop crying. You know your tears are hurting me,” Balwant said.
In a while, trying to take control of herself but still sobbing a little, Sonam murmured without looking up, “How will you help me papa in this pain?” Having seen her father-in-law’s recent concern about her, Sonam believed that he would find a solution to mitigate her pain and discomfort even now.
“I don’t make false promises to my bahu. If you don’t feel too bad, I’ll give you the relief. No, don’t feel shy … don’t hesitate with someone who you just now called papa. I’ll take as much milk as you can give,” the patriarch said. He squeezed her arms and with the other, pressed her hand.
“What! Hey Bhagwan (Oh god)!” Sonam could only say at first, shock at hearing the suggestion. The idea was so bizarre that she shook in the man’s arms and he, in turn, patted her on the back trying to reassure her, make her free and easy.
“Yes bahu. I’ll have no hesitation in drinking the warm milk from your breasts,” he said but Sonam could make out traces of lust in the voice. This was the first time that the patriarch had used the word ‘breasts’. She shivered at the thought but soon realised that her body and mind were already receptive to this idea.
Eventually, to Sonam, these words now seemed to be a boon, for the relief that it would bring and, no matter how ridiculous the idea was, no matter how hesitant she had been, it excited her. She rubbed her head in the man’s chest, warming up to him and there could be no doubt in Balwant’s mind that she had concurred and would be willing to offer her full breasts to his already greedy mouth. He felt an instant hardness simply thinking about it.
“May I see your breasts, bahu? See how full they are?” he asked openly now. His bahu’s silent and subdued willingness had given him the licence to ask these questions freely.
“I am ashamed, papa,” Sonam said, her face still dug into his big chest. She still hid the fact that she too wanted the burly patriarch to suckle her breasts.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of Bahu. No one will know …only you and me, in the privacy of this bedroom,” he said.
“Come bahu, let me lie on your soft lap. Pick up Varun and place him on the bed since he is asleep.” Sonam could make out the uncontrolled passion in that voice that merged with her own rising emotion and excitement.
Sonam waited for a while, letting her shyness dissolve in her rising excitement before she had caringly placed Varun on the bed. In the process of doing so, both her hands were occupied, and she could helplessly feel the ‘angocha’ slip away from her breasts, undraping that which a woman would never expose to anyone other than her husband. Placing Varun on the bed, she quickly tried to retrieve the piece, but her father-in-law would have nothing of it. He held her hands, preventing her from covering herself, and silently admonished her with a shake of his head.
Balwant stared intently at the breasts and the nipples that protruded out from the middle of her light brown areola. He stared admiringly, much to Sonam’s discomfort and she blushed profusely, not able to look anywhere other than staring only at her child.
“Which one is paining the most?” she heard him asking. She hesitated, too ashamed to open her mouth and speak, pretending to be busy in attending Varun. But the man was insistent.
“Which one bahu?” he implored again. And then, without the slightest hesitation, he had extended his big, rough hands and tenderly touched the right breast, squeezing it a bit to check the tenderness.
“Babujiiii!” Sonam cried out. Was it pain? Was it shock? Did it express a feeling totally different from pain or shock? No one, no male hand, had ever touched Sonam’s breasts other than her husband’s. It was a natural reaction at first, but she kept silent after that initial reaction, knowing the futility of protesting to this man when inwardly she too felt a tingling sensation run down her body. He squeezed a bit again.
“Ahhhh!” She heard her father-in-law exclaiming.
Sonam couldn’t know if this exclamation by the patriarch signified his concern for her or, she thought shyly, expressed a feeling of his pleasure.
He asked quickly, “Does that hurt?”
Sonam just nodded her head. This intimate behaviour of a man and a woman bordered on sensuality. It was not just a question of pain but something sublime, something enacted between a desirous couple. He pressed again, touching the nipple head with his coarse thumb, index and middle fingers, pressing it ever so lightly. Was he really examining the pain or something else? A doctor wouldn’t dare do this, thought Sonam, but here was her father-in-law doing exactly that without the slightest hesitation whatsoever.
Even the gentle touches hurt Sonam. But she didn’t move away, didn’t express any tone of denial or abhorrence. As if, inwardly, she seemed to bask in the attention that her breasts received from this rugged, dark, strong, middle aged man. Yes, she blushed and felt embarrassed and shy. True she was hesitant and was yet to be totally free. But these were natural of her. Ultimately, however, allowing these intimate touches meant that she had almost willingly surrendered to the illicit nature to which this relation was now almost certainly headed.
The patriarch and the young ravishing woman looked at each other frequently, even while the big, dark hand rested on and tested the fair, engorged breasts. Sonam blushed, for she could make out the lust in the man’s eyes no matter how caring he was. He was pressing the conical shapes, drawing them out so that the milk would flow. He was going by his instincts as a farmer, something he had been required to do so often in the past, right from his teens. And now, while he attended to his lovely bahu, she breathed heavily.
At one point, when her soft moans were still imperceptible, a few drops squirted out and fell on the man’s naked chest.
“We are there now, bahu,” her father-in-law whispered excitedly. But the result was still far from satisfactory and, barring those few initial squirts, her breasts refused to part with the abundant milk that she still held inside. Both the patriarch and his bahu were now perplexed, a bit unsure of themselves and what they should be doing, because what came to mind was truly unthinkable to Sonam if not for both. Till finally, overcoming the awkwardness, the patriarch broke the ice.
“Your doctor asked you to get someone’s help. Let me be the one, let me relieve you of the pain in the manner necessary,” he said, his voice hoarse and shaking. It was obvious to Sonam what that implied, and she was red in the face, shaking her head in refusal, out of shame. She wished she could hide her face.
Balwant gripped her arm with one hand while the other hand still held one breast. Then, very sternly he spoke out, “Bahu … this is not the time to feel shy.” Whatever resistance Sonam had in her was lost against this steely voice. She surrendered.
Continuing to look deeply into her eyes Balwant had brought his face on to the swollen nipples resting on her luscious breasts, brushing his thick lips over both for a while. Then, still looking at her, he took in a nipple in his parted lips, holding it in a soft grip before pressing it mildly. Sonam watched in amazement when the man started the process of drawing out the milk from that one breast in his mouth.
The exercise was taking time, as he held and pulled, squeezed and pumped on Sonam’s breast with his lips and tongue, but the milk still showed no sign of giving relief to the hapless girl. This endless playing on her breasts, however, gave enormous pleasure to her and she loved it even though the pain lingered. Occasionally she moaned, despite the pain that remained. The patriarch looked surprised. He was dismayed and ashamed at his own failure, as if it was his fault that he could not draw out the milk. His face projected that of a man defeated, and with all his pride drowned in disgrace.
Sonam felt sorry for her father-in-law. She would give anything to see the pride return on this fiery man, to see him content and proud of an achievement, as one who has fulfilled his promise. She realised where and why his efforts met little success.
“Babuji, a child draws easily while resting on a mother’s lap. May be …,” her voice trailed off into silence, wanting her father-in-law to take the hint. Balwant’s eyes lit up, for he understood instantly. He smiled, acknowledging the unmistakable tip that he received from his bahu with a slight nod of his head.
Sonam, by now, had positioned herself on the bed and sat demurely on the bed, her legs bent backwards at the knees one over the other, her thighs close together so that only her lap invitingly lay in front of her. The patriarch eagerly placed his head on her inviting lap sensually covered with soft fabric of her nightwear.
The sensual bahu quickly placed an arm underneath the head by raising it a bit and letting it rest where she had bent her arm. She was almost cuddling and drawing him within her breast. At the same time, she bent down a bit herself. For a few moments they looked at each other and the expression in each of them was of mutual endearment.
“Babuji!” she whispered emotionally, brushing her soft hands on his cheeks. Then, with almost a husky voice, she uttered, “Let me feed you.”
“Bahu!” The patriarch whispered, as eagerly as one who might have waited an eternity for the nectar that was about to be fed.
Sonam was panting and taking deep breaths. Very deftly and caringly, she held a nipple with two of her fingers and pressing the end of the breast she guided it to the waiting, eager, and hungry man’s open mouth. The patriarch began to suckle, and the overflowing milk in the breast rushed into the man’s mouth. He suckled. Oh! How he suckled! Sonam watched him in amazement. She held his head close to her and let it rest on her bent arm, allowing him to fill his mouth. At the same time, Sonam felt enormous relief in the rapid emptying of her overflowing breast. Balwant suckled ferociously.
Sonam couldn’t control herself. She was filled with emotion and loving care for the one who suckled her breast. She ran her fingers through the patriarch’s hair, like she would her child, allowing him to enjoy the milk that he was feeding. A while later, she bent down and planted a kiss on the man’s forehead. Sonam wondered if she had done this out of her motherly instincts or out of her rising sexual need and love for the man whom she held to her breasts.
The milk in the right breast soon exhausted. Varun had taken a fair bit out of it earlier till he had stopped, and the patriarch’s hungry suckling had emptied it quickly.
“Bahu!” he said in anguish and feeling deprived. He wanted more.
Sonam had quickly repositioned herself, as if she too was eager to feed the man she was holding in her arm. Once she felt comfortable in her new posture and watched the patriarch’s head rest easily on her arm, she held her left nipple this time and placed it inside his mouth. Instantly, he started suckling.
She looked at the man’s face lovingly, once again brushing his hair with a hand, drawing her own face nearer. The patriarch suckled eagerly but now he started playing with Sonam’s right breast from which he had just fed. He teased and pulled on the teat, as if he had found a new toy. At the same time, he had taken his other hand behind his bahu’s back, running his thick, rough fingers across the delicate, soft fabric that was her nightwear.
Balwant’s fingers ran down her back slowly. Down, down … till his fingers could make out the contours of her panties underneath her nightwear where her body began curving into the delicate softness that were her buttocks. Balwant imagined the nature of the undergarment that hugged his bahu’s hips. He would love to see it. He wondered if it was wet.
He ran a finger on the crevasse that ran between the butt curves. Oh god! He remembered what he had secretly witnessed a couple of nights earlier in the toilet. In his wildest imagination he hadn’t thought, at that moment, he would be lying on Sonam’s laps, suckling her lovely breasts and be running his finger on her rump.
“Oh! Babuji! You have been so kind and caring and I shall not forget how you eased my pain,” Sonam blurted suddenly. The man’s eyes twinkled on hearing these words, but he went on suckling the breast, as if he didn’t want the breast to leave his hungry mouth. His hands continued to play just as they were, may be with a bit more intensity on hearing these words.
“Babuji … Dddo Do you …ummm ..like.” Sonam was blushing once more, unable to say what she was wanting to.
The patriarch raised his eyebrows questioningly, unable to fathom Sonam’s words. And yet, he was neither eager to release the nipple in his mouth to talk.
“Babuji … I was thinking if you are liking the milk,” she was blushing profusely and turned her face away. The man quickly held her face by holding the chins with his big, strong hand. Without releasing the nipple, he nodded his head. But Sonam was not satisfied in the answer and she felt that was evasive. He understood her sentiment, so he released the nipple and spoke.
“Yes Bahu … I love your milk. It’s so sweet and I am sure it’s very nutritious …something that an old man like me can do with every day. Promise me you shall feed me every day Bahu,” he said. He had once again taken the nipple in his eager mouth and started suckling busily.
“Yes Babuji, I promise. You shall get your share every night here, in this very room, on your bed,” Sonam said sensually.
As the patriarch fed on her nipple and played with the free breast with his hand, Sonam ran her eyes over this rugged, strong, dark man. He had taken off his kurta when Sonam had switched breasts for his feeding and his upper torso was naked. The young bahu looked at Balwant’s manly chest, with thick hair covering most of the top. The hair was mostly black with few streaks of grey. Her eyes curiously went further down towards his flat stomach. But she couldn’t see beyond that because the man lay awkwardly, the lower torso bent so that his crotch rested on the bed. To Sonam, he seemed very restless. Sonam now ran her fingers through the hair on the man’s broad chest. At this moment Balwant turned around and he now lay completely on his back, excepting for the portion that was still held by his bahu in her arm.
Fiddling with the patriarch’s hair on the chest, Sonam’s eyes roamed towards the man’s waist and still further down. She beheld an amazing sight. She looked in wonder, her mouth gaping at what she saw, a hand of hers going to her gaping mouth. The dhoti that the patriarch was wearing had bulged beyond belief into a huge tent. Even huge would be an understatement, she thought. Is it possible? She wondered. It can’t be true, Sonam said to herself.
The patriarch must have followed his bahu’s gaze and seen her gaping with a look of sheer shock and astonishment.
“You know Bahu, there are many things that one believes when the person sees with his or her own eyes. In my life, it has happened many times. Has it ever happened to you?” the patriarch asked.
Sonam couldn’t fully understand why he had said this. She had quickly turned her face away from the ‘bulge’ the moment she had heard his voice.
“I cannot follow you Babuji,” she said innocently.
“You really can’t? Must I make it simpler?” he said gravely.
“Babuji..I …” she still couldn’t comprehend.
“Very well then,” the patriarch said, “I’ll make it easier and say in the language that you’ll understand. Do you want me to take off my dhoti, bahu?” he whispered into Sonam’s ears.
“Babujiiii!” Sonam had covered her face with both hands now that they were free with the patriarch’s head resting on her lap.
“Don’t feel shy, do it yourself Bahu. Confirm if what you see is just a figment of imagination or a joyous and naked reality that your mind craves for?” he asked gravely.
Sonam had frozen like a statue. She didn’t make a move.
“Touch it!” the patriarch said seriously and expecting strict obedience. Sonam could hardly believe what her father-in-law was demanding through just these two words. Torn between the obvious thought of what would be a strictly ‘forbidden’ relationship and yet shaking in both disbelief and excitement, Sonam waited. She was a young bahu, many girls wouldn’t have possibly married at this blossoming age, who waited anxiously for what would follow. The patriarch who stared at her, sucking in her juicy youth with his lustful stares, was no other than her elderly, respectable, authoritative father-in-law.
“Touch it, Bahu!” The patriarch hissed again. This was no request … it was a command and Sonam knew that she would have to obey. She wanted to obey. Yet Sonam hesitated.
“Babuji” she couldn’t hide her uneasiness … but there was no hint of reluctance. If she waited now it was because she needed an assurance, an assurance from someone to relieve her of this rising sense of guilt.
But the patriarch was insistent. He squeezed her breasts harder, pinched the nipples and pulled on them even while he came nearer to his bahu. He was impatient for what he wanted from his sweet bahu. He didn’t wait further, he couldn’t. Holding the soft, tender hands of his youthful bahu, he drew it and was pushing it down his hairy chest. At the same time, the intensity of mauling and moulding her breasts became harder. Sonam was truly embarrassed. Her respectable Babuji was not hiding his lust for her. Insistently, he was drawing the hand nearer and nearer to the spot where he wanted.
Sonam made one last attempt of denial. She drew her hand away before she could be made to ‘touch’ the hardness.
“Babuji, No – this is not right – I am your bahu!” she cried in vain. But the patriarch was in no mood to relent. He was not going to accept any explanation. Rather, he countered her with a bit of sarcasm.
“And is it right for your Sasur (father-in-law) to suck milk from your breasts?” he was almost scorning her.
Sonam blushed, for she knew how blatantly the man had questioned her hesitation and refusal. Her hypocrisy was being glaringly pointed out. If she had allowed him to suck from her breasts, how could it be sinful if she touched that growing, throbbing manhood? That’s what the patriarch was imputing. Sonam tried to explain, reminding him of his son and how he would feel if he ever knew about this.
But Balwant simply brushed her reasoning away. He was in no mood to accept any explanation. Even her fears that others might get to know was met with an assurance that their relation would remain confined within the privacy of their rooms – two rooms that seemed to have almost merged into a sprawling playground for an erotic couple about to let themselves be free of any inhibition whatsoever.
The patriarch couldn’t wait any more. His rough, rugged and rural hand held her fingers and drew them down, past his flat stomach and without much ado, placed it on the stiff, hard, length of meat which was almost bursting and crying for freedom.
Her arm stretched by force, a shaking, frightened, unbelieving bahu placed a soft hand on the looming bulge of her father-in-law. The moment of touch was electrifying for both. He, because most possibly, he was already in a high degree of excitement for this touch and this expressed itself by an immediate throbbing reaction. And she also, because it instantly jumped and stretched underneath the dhoti that tried to bind it within the coarse fabric of his dhoti.
Oh my god! Sonam thought. Whatever organ could be so big, so thick, so hard and so alive? She could sense the girth and the length of the hidden shaft by touch alone. The first touch had only aggravated her curiosity and she was now eager to part the covering and see the naked organ with her curious eyes. She had to be convinced that any man could be so virile, so excited and so much of a ‘mard'(virile man) to possess something that she could not ever imagine in the wildest stretch of her imagination. It was absolutely exhilarating and thrilling to Sonam. She couldn’t hide her amazed look of sheer surprise.
“Babuji … Ohh Ma! You are huge!” she exclaimed incredulously, but her eyes were full of lust. It was impossible, she thought. No one, no man could have such a big organ. She had pulled her hand away, but the patriarch was quick to bring back her soft hand on it again. Yet, she still couldn’t make herself clasp the hard shaft. She was just touching it softly, still ashamed to release her lust. Till the patriarch placed his hand on hers, forcing her to clasp the thick girth of his organ. Sonam shivered in excitement. Oh my god! She thought. Her entire body was now awake, and she lusted for something so terrifyingly beautiful.
“Babuji!Babuji! You are so big,” she cried like a little girl who has found a toy.
The patriarch felt proud yet enquired if she had ever seen anything like this and Sonam vehemently shook her head. He made her run her hands over the length, confirming what she had said. He could make out how much his bahu was aroused, as she shivered in excitement and small moans escaped her.
“Oh my god!” exclaimed a now delirious bahu and then shyly whispered, “Babujii, yours is much bigger than his!”
“But you haven’t seen it as yet,” the patriarch said, “Feel it, Bahu! See it and find out for yourself, don’t leave anything to doubt.” Balwant raised her chin and looked into her passionate, lustful eyes. Yes, he wanted her just like that – aroused, craving, passionate with her needs soaring. Balwant was sure that she was at that stage.
Just then, just as the tall strong man shifted his position, the dhoti that covered the organ moved away, parting a bit to give space to a dark, thick, wet, oozing bulbous head. It shimmered even in the soft shades of the light inside the room. The air around them had only one smell – the musky, sweetly pungent smell of the man’s prodigious organ. She blushed at a thought. The mirth and giggles that she and her friends indulged in whenever the male organ came in as their topic of discussion.
But these thoughts were more in a lighter vein. The patriarch gave her no time to dilute the built-up desires that had engulfed them both. He squeezed her breasts, kneading them hard and pulling on them. Each action pushed Sonam further into a crazy need and she stared at the organ’s peeping bulbous head, most of which hidden underneath. Suddenly, she was aware that the man was watching her staring at this amazing organ. The young bahu was more than ashamed. She quickly turned his head on to his breasts, covering his face and eyes so that prevented him for watching his aroused bahu. The man understood, and he raised and lowered himself on the bed as Sonam held on to his engorged phallus.
Sonam could not hold herself any more. She had lost the last semblance of her inhibition and shyness.
“Babujiiii,” a voice that carried lust, need, desire escaped from the lips of a deeply aroused Sonam.
“Yes bahu?” the patriarch was just as eager to know what the sweet little thing wanted.
“Babuji, may I part the dhoti fully? I am eager to see this huge thing that you possess,” Sonam said. Her deep need was making her bold and she knew that there was no point in being coquettish at this stage. She had to have this extraordinary cock as she could, and shyness would only deprive her of fulfilling her need.
“Of course, bahu! You must, and you will. I know how much you have been waiting to see it uncovered. Last night, when I awoke, you were intently seeing the ‘tent’. You think I didn’t see that? It is yours, you shall have it. Go on, open my dhoti fully and see for yourself – see if it pleases you! And do you know what you should address it as?” He smiled naughtily.
“Babujiiii!” Sonam felt ashamed.
“Sonam bahu! Don’t feel ashamed. I will be honest – I too desired you.” The patriarch said seriously now.
“Saachh(Really), Babuji?” Sonam uttered.
“Yes! Remember, ever since your ‘sas'(mother-in-law) died, I have waited and waited, wanting the warmth of someone young.” Balwant pointed a figure towards his penis and continued, “It is starved, remember that. It can’t wait for your attention – give it NOW!” He looked at his bahu with unhidden lust.
Sonam bent down and, impatiently, fidgeted with the knots of the dhoti to free it. When she failed to untie the clumsy length of cloth, she looked at her father-in-law helplessly, imploringly.
“Babujii! I can’t.”
“Very well then,” the patriarch had said before he began untying the knot, “but do you know what this is known as? It’s called ‘lund’,” and then went on to repeat it aloud, “LUND…LUND … and you can call it that when you are with me. No, no Bahu, … don’t feel shy. I would love to hear it from your lips.”
The patriarch then went on to deftly open the knot and, to his surprise, an unusual but wild Sonam almost tore off the dhoti to free what was lurking so ominously from inside.
To say it was mammoth would be an understatement. It was something the likes of which Sonam, the young bahu, had never seen nor heard before. Nor could she imagine that anyone could be endowed physically with such an organ. It was dark, almost black, it was mean looking, it was frightening but … it was stupendous! At that stage of hardness, it was surely eight inches long, guessed Sonam. But it was its girth that fascinated her. How thick was it, Sonam pondered? At least two and a half inches? Or was it three? She stared at the crooked mushroom on top that made it look even menacingly thicker. Yet, to Sonam it looked gorgeous, befitting a ‘mard’. Thick, deep veins encircled the shaft, carrying the much-needed blood to give it life.
Sonam gaped at it as if in a trance. At its tip she saw the unrestrained, dripping pre-cum… on to the bed sheet, or onto her hands – the very precum that gave this musky, obnoxious odour around her. And this huge length of meat was throbbing right in front of her gaping eyes. This could only belong to a virile man, one who must be having the sexual prowess of a sturdy Rocky(H). Sonam knew she was in love with it the moment she saw the entire naked organ. She wanted to possess it, own it as her own, speak and make love to it.
Just below the length of meat dangled two of the most perfect orbs, much bigger than that of her husband, and covered by his public hair. Oh my god! Everything was driving Sonam crazy. How much sperms would these orbs hold within them? An unreasonable thought of getting impregnated with his seeds floated through her mind instantly. She turned away the thought as absurd, but it came back knocking in her mind. How crazy really was she to even imagine have the man’s sperms in her receptive womb, she thought naively.
Sonam couldn’t hide her feelings for the throbbing, pulsating phallus anymore. She found it irresistible and certainly beyond containment. Oh god! Eager to hold this stupendous edifice she bent down to be as near to it as she wanted. As she did so, the intoxicating aroma invaded her sense of smell and she could only inhale to her heart’s delight, savouring the surrounding odour again and again! Oh! How she loved the smell of this manly cock. She held it with both her hands, dainty hands that looked so small beside it. She held it straight, like a tower that stood out from his groin while he lay on the bed. She was taking deep breaths, as she kept looking at stiff, vibrant shaft.
“Babuji!” Hers was the voice of a passionate, desirous bahu that beckoned the rugged man who lay on the bed.
“Yes bahu?” The patriarch was equally eager to know.
Sonam remained silent at his response for she was far too engrossed in the live, throbbing, monstrous ‘lund’ that she held in her hands. And she had, without the slightest hesitation but in sheer desire, touched the wet tip with her lips, soft moans leading her on. The patriarch sat mesmerized, watching the young bahu as she outpoured her aroused sensuality on the cock-head. In moments, the sticky juices made those pouting lips glossy, turning her into an extremely sensuous, desirable and erotic woman. Sonam’s entire body was now simmering unrestrained in need and lust – just what the patriarch wanted her to be.
As she held the manly organ in her hands and brushed her soft lips over the oozing wet tip Sonam could feel an enormous transformation about to take place within herself. It was as if she was born only to be this man’s woman in every sense – for love, for sex and even to bear him a child from his seeds. True she was the wife of Rajesh and had borne him a son. Equally true was the fact that the man lying on the bed was the patriarch and head of the family.
To Sonam the reality of being a dutiful wife and daughter-in-law seemed to have receded to the background. What loomed in her mind, in a big way, was that she now belonged only to her rugged, manly father-in-law. Not just an innocent, demure bahu to a respected father-in-law and all the inmates of this somewhat rich family, but someone special to this man.
From now on, Sonam realised, she was to be a bahu in a much more intimate, romantic, erotic sense to this one man who headed a compact family. She could now almost visualise herself as a wife – for she would share his bedroom, a sex object – for she was certain of the man’s insatiable appetite for it, even perhaps a slut to this ‘mard’ of a man, the one whom she called Babuji from the first day of her marriage. She blushed just thinking about this. What did they call such girls? Randi(whore)… oh my god, she was red in the face, but the thought brought a tingling sensation in her crotch.
Relentlessly, the man was mauling one of her breasts while he suckled insanely on the other that was now nearly empty. His mouth was still on it, trying to extract more out of her fully drained breasts. Such show of intense desire and passion was too much for the coquettish yet lustful bahu, and she could hardly contain herself. She circled the tip of her thumb along the tip of his cock with a purpose, almost forcing more of the sticky, slimy juice to escape and ooze out unhindered. Her head was on it instantly, deeply breathing in the strong musky smell that intoxicated her. God! How she had been ignorant of this intoxicating aroma when it was available so near to her, right from the day of her wedding.
She felt elated and insanely happy now. For at least six months she would have as much of this man and his magnificent dark ‘cock’ whenever she wanted. No, she rethought, not whenever she wanted, for that was not possible as a bahu of this family. But, certainly, every night in the privacy of these two rooms that was theirs, hers and her Babuji!
Sonam’s lips were on this throbbing organ again, such was her passion for it. She inhaled the maleness again and again, stared at the mushroom head that ballooned enormously like a crown, befitting the organ of this one man who was her sasur (father-in-law). Throbbing and alive, it seemed so very purposeful in what it wanted. Just then she looked up and a strand of sticky juice stretched from the tip of the ‘lund’ to her lips. It was like a binding thread between the two …between lund and lips, between a manly sasur and sexy bahu, both now in irreversible heat once their reservations and inhibitions on this forbidden relationship had been won over and overcome.
Balwant pulled his attention off her breasts to peek at what was happening down below. In his wildest imagination he couldn’t have imagined what he now saw. Seema’s face was flushed with arousal, her hair strewn all over her pretty face. She was holding him in her hands, body bent towards his crotch and face swooping down on his cock. Like a hawk, her eyes were transfixed on the object of her desire. Soon, the sexy nymph had her lips were grounded on to the tip of that enormous length of hardened meat. Her lips were barely spread out, and yet engulfed the wet crown that was coated with his pre-cum and some of her own drool.
She swayed her lips and face while keeping the shaft steady, coating her lips with a luminous spread of the slimy gloss. She closed her lips once and kissed the slit, paying reverence to the lingam (penis). Then, for moments she drew away her face while the organ remained in her hands.
With her lips drawn away from the man’s cock she shyly stole a glance at the patriarch. She found him restless, now that her lips were not touching the tip of his enraged penis. It was obvious that he found it unbearable the moment Sonam withdrew the touch of her soft lips from his manly cock. His eyes imploringly looked at his bahu, almost begging her to plant her lips on it again. He stroked her unkempt hair caringly, wanting her to revert to where she was.
Sonam felt a bit mischievous and she brought about a naughty smile of denial by shaking her head, almost teasingly and playfully, like a young girl. The excited Balwant implored once again, but Sonam giggled and shook her head in denial again. The first refusal was gently coaxed with another push at her temple, which expressed the man’s urgency without being unduly rough or forceful. Sonam playfully shook her head again and she was surprised at her own ability at denial when she had all along been afraid of her father-in-law.
“Nahin (No), Nahin (No) …” She giggled mirthfully, her pearly teeth in full display.
But Balwant was insane in need. He was in no stage to wait any further. Sonam felt his strong hands around her neck, then gripping the strands of her lustrous hair in his hand and bending her down to the man’s imposing organ. She attempted another act of denial, but her face was almost on the precum coated tip. She opened her mouth and rounded her lips on the bulbous head, coating her lips generously.
Sonam couldn’t proceed further. Not that she didn’t want to, she most certainly did. But she was being guided more by the past, by how much she had proceeded with her husband Rajesh who couldn’t really boast of retention and would invariably spill very soon after Sonam’s lips or tongue played with the tip. She now hesitated to take more of the organ into her mouth. The patriarch forcefully held her head to his throbbing organ, but she resisted for a while till she pulled away.
“Babuji …Nahi (No),” she pleaded.
“Bahu … Karona (please do it),” the patriarch urged, his words full of lust and drowned in his passion.
“Nahi Babuji ..No .. No… I ..,”she was begging the man to stop.
“Why not Bahu?” The patriarch might have been surprised at this passionate woman’s sudden baulking. He was certain that they had been engulfed in their own raging fire. One that could only be doused with ultimate consummation.
“With Rajesh it was possible … But Babuji, my mouth is small, and I won’t be able to take in fully what you possess …,” Sonam blurted out the reason for her denial.
Balwant took over a more active role after this disclosure. Partly, it led to an expression of love between the two, with the patriarch goading and teaching his sweet sexy bahu, softly urging her to let go her fear, assuring her that he wouldn’t rush or push but that her wet mouth should be receptive to what he gave, that in the end she would be able to take in the full length of his manly cock. Sonam too, like an obedient lover, followed his guidance by opening her lips wider and wider, allowing the enormous ‘thing’ into the warm wetness of her mouth. But she had doubted her ability to do so in the beginning.
“Slowly Bahu, don’t rush to take in more than you can! Little at a time …yes, yes… you are doing fine … don’t stop sucking … that’s it …go on sucking, yesss,” each of her action was being prompted by the patriarch while he stroked her head in assurance.
As Sonam obeyed her father-in-law she found the taste immensely to her liking. Her eyes closed, and she immersed in thoughts of the man and his manhood, the one that he desired her to call ‘lund’.
Few inches in, it choked her when it hit her throat and she almost gagged before pulling out suddenly, gasping for breath. She withdrew quickly, and her lips remained parted. The slimy mixture of the man’s precum and her own saliva dripped from the corner of her mouth on to the cock, giving it a more menacing look.
“Are you ok Bahu? Don’t rush, wait and take your breath,”Balwant’s words were reassuring but gave Sonam the much needed confidence.
“Yes Babuji, I am ok. Just taking my breath,” she smiled and coughed, and the patriarch got a whiff of his own pre-cum from her mouth.
Sonam still held his organ, holding on to it as if it was the most precious thing to her. Her mouth might have failed but her soft hands hadn’t. She would never part with it, never. Her breasts dangled underneath the sheer nightie that she wore, a breast fully exposed for view with the nipple sitting prettily. Her hair was partly dishevelled and covering a bit of her beautiful face. Her eyes showed her wanton desires without a shred of her earlier inhibition. Indeed, she was the very epitome of what the patriarch might have craved for a long, long time. Sonam looked at the man and she couldn’t deny that she wanted to be entirely his in every way.
The patriarch guided her once again to his thick shaft, patting her on the back of her neck softly before mildly pushing her down. Sonam didn’t wait, for she wanted to have her lips and mouth on it just as much. Without any hesitation she opened her mouth and took in the coated mushroom. Her lips encircled the girth and she looked up to see the man staring at her intently and admiringly. What was going on through the man’s mind, she wondered. She wanted to give the man utmost pleasure and wished in her heart that he would have the same feelings of possessing her and making her his own.
Sonam sucked for endless moments. On and on she went, sometimes taking the organ out of her mouth and licking the shaft from base to tip and sometimes just twirling her tongue over and over the tip to further arouse the man.
“Oh Babuji! I love your … your … ‘thing’…” She couldn’t bring herself to call it as Balwant had wanted, trying to stammer her way out.
But Balwant would have nothing of it.
“No, Bahu. It has a name, remember? I want you to whisper its name, get used to calling it that,” the patriarch wanted to enforce.
Shyly, hesitatingly, Sonam had to obey her father-in-law.
“Babuji! I love your lund, believe me … Oh! I love it so much. And the taste …the taste is so pleasing for me,” she cried.
Frankly, the patriarch had never witnessed such open and unrestrained sucking in the past. His bahu could hear his groans as he twisted and shook on the bed and Sonam felt happy that she could give the pleasure that the patriarch wanted. They would have so many nights to enjoy one another and give to each other. It would be the ultimate in erotic sex. She was sure of that.
Suddenly, Sonam let the organ out of her mouth. Her lips and much of her cheeks and chin were wet with the man’s slimy juice as she sat up to bring her face near the patriarch. Her need was urgent.
“Kiss me, make me yours,” she said boldly now. She was no more hesitant. The time for shyness and respect was over. They were both erotic lovers now, wanting each other and that is how they would behave from now onwards… at least in the privacy of this room.
Balwant stretched his big strong hands and pulled her into his broad chest, squeezing and crushing her within those strong arms. A hand gripped her back while another rested on her buttocks to pull her further into him. He looked down at her once, at the pair of very wet lips and mouth that reeked of his own precum, cheeks wet and glistening. He found her irresistible and hot, a woman whose every nerve and fibre emitted sex and desire. At first, he kissed her softly, just brushing the wet lips before raw passion gave way. Each of them could hold back no more. Passionately they kissed, their tongues searching each other, each enjoying their first kiss of union.
“Babuji … Babuji …” the panting bahu was uncontrolled, “oh Babuji … I want you so much…take me, make me yours.”
“Oh! My sweet bahu, … my very own,” the patriarch said passionately and seriously.
“Babuji, I have missed so much in my marriage till now that I want to explore everything with you. Will you make me yours? I dream of being a wife and a lover to you. I wish I could bear you a child born out of your healthy seeds. Oh! Please! Take out whatever erotic passion that your bahu possesses, for she wants to give to you whatever she has hid till now,” Sonam was blurting out without the slightest hesitancy now.
She held his face with both her hands and showered the patriarch with wild, passionate kisses as her breasts pushed into his chest. She was truly aroused and would give anything for the man within whose arms she lay cuddled.
Sonam was filled with overwhelming love for the patriarch as he held her face with both his strong, big hands. His words, ones that expressed his concurrence to what his bahu had wished, rung in her ears like a wonderful piece of music. She was elated that the man would fulfil all that she craved to be for him.
“My girl…,” Balwant reciprocated and, biting her lower lips with all the passion and intensity he could muster, accepted her as his own. “You will be each of those for me” And saying that he kissed her hard again sucking her tongue inside his mouth and sealing their relationship. Clandestine as it may be, it was erotic love between the two.
“And you shall be more than that, my Bahu. You will be what you can never imagine. Not just my wife and lover,” he said lovingly but not hiding the inner lust and a sort of wickedness that brewed in his mind.
Balwant passionately kissed Sonam for a long time and as their lips parted in the end, he looked into her eyes and said, “You are a fertile woman, my dear.” He continued “and, make no mistake, you will get my seeds and bring new life.”
To Sonam nothing could be sweeter than these words. The very words made her glance at the two sacks that dangled below the man’s enormous cock. Oh Yes! The pair was so, so big – just the size that matched the monstrous organ. They were full of fertile seeds, Sonam was sure of that and she was in no doubt that there could be but just one outcome of their erotic coupling that would follow soon and in the many days that followed.
Sonam could feel the man’s nakedness as the dhoti that he was wearing earlier lay a distance away. Yet, the raw skins of the erotic couple had not touched each other. The man’s lund pressed into sheer fabric that still covered her body, both impatient as each tried to be as near to the other as they could, pushing and pressing into each other with an urgency. Her breasts were squeezed into the man’s chest, but these were still not fully bare as the young bahu was mostly covered by the nightie that she was wearing. She was eager for that touch now, raw skin against skin. There could be no doubt that her passions were now fully released and needed to be expressed fully.
Just at that moment she felt the patriarch’s hands lift his body off her, a separation that surprised her at first. She quickly realised the purpose. In just fleeting seconds he had gripped the neckline of the disturbing nightie and torn it apart with his powerful arms. The flimsy nightie lay tattered on both her sides as Sonam lay completely naked except for the gossamer panties before her now wild father-in-law. Balwant stared at his bahu … his attention directed at the lovely piece of garment that had hid snugly below her nightwear. It was soft, sheer and exquisitely laced and white. Oh! Help me! Balwant almost cried out just staring at the undergarment that hugged her. And the wetness? Those marks of her arousal? Oh, he loved it! He lowered his face on to spot; he was snared into taking a whiff of the essence of her sex.
Without further delay, Balwant’s hands were on the tiny fabric that was her panties, pulling it down her thighs and legs. Taking it in his hand he stared at the wetness that stood out. Unable to resist, he placed his face on it, breathing in her sex. Sonam snatched it from his hand and quickly pushed it underneath the pillow.
Removal of the last shred of her garment instantly shook the very instinct of modesty that’s inborn in a woman. No matter how much the couple had become free to each other Sonam still could not bear the nakedness that she was now exposed to by the patriarch. She covered her most intimate portions of her soft, delicate and desirable body. A hand lay across her breasts while another lay placed on her womanhood.
Her hands were small, and the patriarch must have had glimpses of the curly muff that had become so much of a part of her ‘yoni’ (vagina). She had even put one leg over the other, covering as much of the place as she could for now.
But the patriarch was in no stage of being deprived of this visual pleasure. He savoured every part of this woman. His woman! He exclaimed to himself. Her voluptuous curves with additions to them after childbirth, her soft smooth skin, the haughty nipples crowning the fulsome breasts, her curled up belly-button lying like a lotus in the middle of her stomach, the broadening rump, and oh! those tantalizing legs. She looked like a sex goddess who had been created for a single purpose. To be taken. He found her irresistible and simply divine.
Unable to prolong the torture of his aroused senses, Balwant gently but purposefully held her legs with both hands and separated them, a little at first before they were truly spread apart. He was now kneeling in front, staring intently and admiringly at this lovely, sweet and so very exciting bahu.
“Yes, Devi (goddess) you are mine,” the patriarch said in lustful emotion. He expressed himself now through his kisses as he covered each area, starting from her lips. And each kiss increased Sonam’s passion.
The kiss now seemed different, something that was far more ardent. He was savouring the taste of each of her sensitive areas, building up an inner fire so that it would wildly rage all over the woman who lay before him. He rested his face on her armpits, breathing in deeply and exclaiming the pleasures that her aroma gave him. Down further he went, as he kissed her navel and the point of focus that was her belly button. Sonam felt the mild kiss on the spot, a sort of tickling sensation but knew that the patriarch was bent on giving attention to each spot, wouldn’t revere one at the cost of another. She waited expectantly, excitedly and shivered all over knowing what was soon to follow.
His face wedged between her thighs, the patriarch had placed his hands on her breasts, gripping them roughly as he squeezed the tender breasts of his bahu. His long thick fingers and thumb pinched the nipples, just hard enough for the girl to utter a small cry of pain. But Sonam liked that pain, delighted in the pleasure that she felt.
The patriarch’s attention was now riveted fully on Sonam’s ‘yoni’. He stared at it at first, feasting on the site that lay in front of his eyes. The man had placed his elbows in between the thighs, applying pressure to part them, widen the gap so that he could behold the site of his bahu’s naked womanhood, the wet, moist yoni of this woman whom he desired.
Soon, the thick lips of the man met the yoni lips, as if in a kiss. The moment of truth and touch had arrived. That Sonam was leaking would be an understatement. It was like an overflowing river, a fountain of her sex. She could make out the man smell her spot, taking in the aroma as deeply and keenly as he wanted.
Once the initiation to the woman’s sweet, desirable spot was established the man’s urgency revealed and expressed in the wildest possible manner. He licked the labia at first before he pushed in the tongue deeply inside, rubbing his face insistently over the muff. Sonam could not restrain herself – she moaned and cried incessantly and incoherently.
The patriarch could hear her murmur his name a hundred times … Babuji oh Babuji … my Babuji … she went on ranting. At one point she had gripped the man’s face with her thighs like a pincer, not wanting to let him move away even an inch, such was her arousal. Her juices streamed out, covering the entire area in her groin. But, more than that, her juices had spread completely over her babuji’s face.
“Babujiiiiiiiii …” she screamed at one point, loud enough to reverberate through the room and possibly beyond it as well. Would the maid be able to hear? But that was of little concern. They were far too immersed in their own erotic world and need. Sonam had collapsed on the bed, almost senseless in her excitement – such was her stage of intoxication for this man who was her rustic father-in-law.
The man stopped for a while on hearing this cry from the woman whom he now loved more than anything else, worried when she lay limp. Yet, his lust was high. His own stamina and virility, undoubtedly, were his biggest strengths. It would be impossible for a woman to lose her attraction for this man and Sonam was no exception.
“Oh my god! Oh my god!” she whimpered.
The patriarch didn’t stop, his face on the yoni remaining motionless for a few moments. But the intoxicating aroma that escaped from the leaking vagina of the bahu was enough to precipitate renewed action from him. His tongue was out, running along the slit, drying the spot only to see it moisten again and making him want to lick again. He lapped up the area as a cat would to milk, without stopping to take breath and making rough groaning sounds like a carnivorous animal.
The man’s incessant kissing and licking on her ‘yoni’ was too much of an excitement and arousal for Sonam and she must have had one or two orgasms during this period. In the end, she could hardly control herself, wanting to merge her body and soul with this one man who was his ‘sasur’. The excitement, the pleasure, the joy of the act was almost unbearable to the insane Sonam.
“Babuji, please stop!” she whispered out helplessly in the end, trying to bring in some semblance of sanity in herself by wanting the patriarch stop in these actions that were driving her insane.
The patriarch was more than surprised. To him the bahu had reached a level of intense desire from which it would be impossible for her to break away. And yet, to find this young woman asking for a halt to his own show of deep passion amazed him beyond measure. He stared at Sonam in disbelief. It was only that look of incredulity in her father-in-law’s face that awakened Sonam.
“Babuji …I find it impossible to control myself … my entire body is craving for you in a manner that I feel I am going insane. I have never had this intense feeling ever before and I feel I have remained unfulfilled as a woman and a wife. I never want you to stop. My entire body is on fire and only you can douse it.” Sonam’s voice was full of need and lust, and these were feelings that she couldn’t hide from the patriarch any more.
Her thighs once again gripped the man’s head within as she threw her body in frenzy on bed, moaning incoherently once again.
“Babuji, I can’t stay without touching you … and holding it,” she was shameless in her utterances.
Balwant’s head was still captive within his bahu’s cushy thighs. But this didn’t prevent him from lifting his mouth from the juicy wetness to which he was now addicted.
“Neither can I bahu, neither can I. Believe me, I am intoxicated in this nectar that you offer so generously!” Balwant’s voice was foaming uncontrolled lust.
Not to be undone in these insane expressions of their towering need Sonam whimpered, “Oh! Babuji, how I wish to take your ‘lund’ inside me now, and then again and again and again, as many times as you would like. I long to hold it inside my warm, wet womb!”
It was the insane outbursts of a young woman offering herself in totality to the unbridled passions of a man who was twice her age. The sanctity of their relationship lay buried in tempestuous lust that would be impossible to contain.
By : AshmitaMadhukar