For MATURE lovers

[jay]

You live in our house. You
are not an outsider. So there is no danger of anybody finding out.
Besides, at his age do you think that he will be very demanding? Just let
him hold you once in a while. That's all." She kept on talking like this,
obstinately, angrily, beseechingly. "Don't forget," I heard her tell my
mother. "One word from me and you and your son will be thrown out of this
house in no moment." "Aiyo, Parvathiamma, don't talk like that," said my
mother. "I and my son will be ever thankful to you and sar for whatever
you have done. If not for you I don't know what would happened to me and
my son." "Then , this is how you show your gratitude?" Now it was my
mother's turn to cry. Maybe she was hurt when the old woman called her
thankless. "You will say yes to my request or not? Will you help my
husband or not?" asked Parvathiamma, as if was finalizing something. The
tone of her voice was very threatening. A brief pause. Then with my own
ears I heard my mother say a weak yes! Parvathiamma was overjoyed. She
thanked my mother again and again. Then she said, almost in a teasing
manner, "Shall I send him to your room tonight, after Hari is asleep?" My
mother did not reply. "Shall I?" repeated Parvathiamma. "Aiyo...tonight?"
"Yes. I don't think he can wait any longer." PART 3 As a teenager, at that
time, I had already started experimenting with sex. I used to talk a lot
about sex with my friends and we had watched a couple of adult movies in
the local theatres. But none of us - at least, not me - had ever seen a
blue film. And it was my greatest desire to see one. My mother was in her
late thirties at that time. She was thirty-eight, I think. She was a very
beautiful woman with a wheaty complexion and a body which was the dream of
every man. She was tall and, though she was plump, her body was
well-proportioned. She had big, round buttocks which jiggled gently when
she walked. Her thighs were fat and shapely and they looked very sensual
when she sat down and her sari clung to her. She had a sexy face, though
after her husband's death it had became somewhat pale. And there were
hints of dark circles below her eyes. But her eyes were beautiful. She
had been a cheerful, talkative woman, but after her husband's death she had
became less talkative and of a thoughtful nature. At my age I was very
much aware of the sensuality of her body. Since we shared a single room,
it was impossible for me to turn a blind eye to her voluptuous figure. I
used to feel very guilty whenever I found myself glancing at her large
breasts, her midriff, her deep navel. But she was not at all aware of my
feelings. She thought that I was still a small kid. Sometimes she would
change her sari standing right in front of me. And I already knew that
Vasu had an eye on her. Although he hardly talked with her, I had so many
times seen him gazing at her body longingly. He would hide behind his
newspaper and ogle at her as she moved around the house with her work.
Once I was in his room and he was helping me with a problem in mathematics.
My mother was there, atop a stool. She was cleaning the ceiling fan. To
reach the fan, she had to stand on her toes and stretch her arms. Every
time her arms went up, her sari would be lifted and her navel would come
into view. All the time she was there the old man had kept on glancing at
her quite unashamedly. And every time he glanced, his blood would rush up
to his face. In another instance, I caught him staring at my mother
through the kitchen window. She was in the backyard, washing clothes. She
had taken off her sari and she was in her blouse and petticoat. The
neckline of her blouse was very low and it revealed the tops of her heavy
boobs. And Vasu's eyes were simply feasting That night mother was very
silent. She was very thoughtful while we were having our dinner in the
kitchen. After eating, we entered our room. There were two cots in the
room, put close together. The room was so small that the two cots covered
a large portion of the floor. The cots made an "L" shape; I slept on the
cot laid against the wall that separated the kitchen from our room and she
on the one next to the window. The window opened into the backyard of the
house where there was a tiny coconut grove and a well. I lay down. She
also lay down after switching off the light. "Hari, have you studied
everything for your exam tomorrow?" she asked me now. "Yes, amma," I
replied. Then silence fell in our room. The window was open and silvery
moonlight was flooding into the room through the space above the curtain. I
was not going to sleep. My young mind was almost bursting with
anticipation and excitement. I waited, counting the seconds, controlling
the great urge to toss and turn on my cot. Time seemed to suddenly stand
still and I just got on becoming more and more impatient. Seconds became
minutes, and minutes hours. But I would not sleep. In the faint
moonlight, I saw that my mother was lying very still, with her back to me.
Had she fallen asleep? Had she forgotten that Parvathiamma had fixed an
appointment for her with Vasu? Or, had the plans been changed without my
knowledge? I just lay there in suspense. Waiting, waiting. I had almost
given up hope when the clock in the drawing room of the house struck eleven
and, a moment later, Vasu knocked at the door. He called my mother's name
softly. My mother sat up. She looked at me. I did not move a muscle. I
was lying with one arm placed on my forehead. She could not see my eyes.
When she felt sure that I was asleep, she got up. She stood in the center
of the room and adjusted her sari. Vasu called her again. She looked at
the door undecidedly for a while. She put on the light and just stood
there, staring at the door. Then taking a firm step forward, she opened
the door. From where I lay I could not see Vasu. But I could see the
nervous way in which my mother looked at him and then looked down at the
floor. "Hari is asleep?" I heard him ask her, almost in a whisper. It was
difficult say whether he had asked a question or made a statement. "Um",
she said. There was a brief silence. Then the old man said, "I am unable
to sleep. It is awfully hot in our room. I'll sit here for a while here."
So saying, he gently brushed past her. When Vasu saw me, he frowned, as if
he had not expected me to be here. He stood beside my mother's cot,
looking at me a little nervously, and then shifted his gaze out of the
window, at the moonlit coconut grove. My mother just stood at the door. I
suddenly noticed that she was breathing very heavily, as if she had just
finished running. Her face was a sudden whirlwind of emotions. Then, all
at once, she stepped forward and fell upon the old man's feet. "I am a
poor woman, sar," she said as she burst into tears. "Please..." Vasu was
not ready for this. He was almost panic stricken for a moment. He glanced
at me in alarm. "What are you doing!" he exclaimed. He stepped back, away
from her. "Get up...get up. Don't make so much noise here...your son will
wake up..." "Please..." My mother kept on trying to hold his feet. And she
would not stop crying. "I said don't make noise," said the old man, now
irritated, very much like a teacher in a noisy class. He glanced in my
direction again and again. "Sar, I beg you...please..." Vasu now bent down
and desperately caught hold of her shoulders. He tried to bring her to her
feet. She stood up slowly, her cheeks wet with tears, her face contorted,
as if she was in pain. She kept on crying, wiping her eyes with the back
of her hand. He stood holding her, looking at her, perhaps suddenly
finding it hard to believe that he was so close to her, that she was in his
arms. He kept on gazing at her, his mouth slightly open, as if mesmerised
by the sensuality of her face. He looked at her quivering lips, her full
cheeks, her soft chin. He slowly looked down at her bosom where her sari
had slid away slightly, showing the cleavage of her large tits. My mother
had very large tits. They were so large that her boobs were the first
thing anyone - especially men - noticed about her, and she was literally
embarrassed of them. Whenever she ventured out of the house, she was in
the habit of wearing her sari wrapped around her shoulders to hide their
enormous size. In between her crying, she suddenly became aware of where
Vasu was looking. She quickly stepped back and adjusted her sari. The old
man now looked at her arse. She was standing a little sideways to him, and
when my mother stood sideways her large arse stood out very prominently.
It was broad and well-rounded. It was pure heaven to watch her big arse
jiggle as she moved around the house. Vasu's mouth watered. He gulped and
looked at this sex goddess whom he longed to take into his arms and... She
wiped her face with her sari and looked at him through a corner of her eye.
He gulped. She was a beautiful woman, fair-skinned, healthy and with a
very sexy face. I had heard women say it often that my mother had the
beauty of a film-star. And it was true. It is hard to describe the
sensuality of her face. You have to see it to believe it. Sometimes just
watching her lips move used to give me a hard-on. The old man sighed and
he suddenly sat down on my mother's cot. He looked in my direction,
vaguely lost in thought.

[jay]

Then he said, "Sunandini, I am not going to hurt
you. I promise." She just kept standing there with her eyes fixed on the
floor, her cheeks still moist from her crying. I just wanted to talk to
you," he told her, his eyes shifting between her huge tits and her big,
sexy arse. He sighed again. It was a hot night. He had started to sweat.
He kept quite for a while. And then, as if he had been gathering his
courage all that time, he said, "If you come and sit her...close to
me...for a while, I will go away. Just for while." His voice was shaking.
She stiffened visibly when she heard this, and she began to breathe
rapidly, as if she was going to burst into a fresh torrent of tears. She
gazed at him and caught the imploring expression on his face. "Sunandini,"
he whispered. "Please..." She turned her face away from him, her mind in
turmoil. She was well aware that Vasu had been good to her ever since she
had come to live in this house. He had helped her so many times. And in
return if she... No, no...she could not bring her to even think about it.
Her fingers kept tugging at a corner of her sari unconsciously. She looked
at me. I was barely breathing. "Sar," she said slowly, "this is not
proper..." "Who will come to know? Not a single soul. Come here..."
"But..." She bit her lips, her eyes shut tightly, teardrops still forming
at the corners. What was she thinking? Maybe she was thinking about what
Parvathiamma had said to her in the kitchen: "Just let him hold you once in
a while". And, how that old woman had threatened to throw her and her son
out of the house if she did not do what she wanted her to do. Her son. He
was a bright lad. It was important that he should continue with his
studies. She looked at the old man. He patted upon the cot. He said,
"Come, sit here. Just for a while. And then I will go away." "Sar, Hari
will wake up," said my mother. "We will not make any noise." PART 4 She
took in a deep breath. In her mind she realized that perhaps this was the
only solution to the whole matter. Maybe, if she just sat down with this
old man for a while he would go away. She remembered the old woman's words
that her husband would not be very demanding. She once again looked at me.
Then she started to step towards him. But Vasu said to her, "Close that
door first." The interruption seemed to make her undecided again. But she
slowly headed for the door. I watched the old man look lustily at her
magnificent behind. She bolted the door and slowly came and sat down upon
the cot. She sat close to the old man, close but not touching. He seemed
to relax a bit. He looked at her. His sex goddess. In flesh and blood,
and so close to him. My god! He was drawing his knees together, as if
already he was having an erection. Vasu said, "Sunandini, I know that you
are always worried about your son's education." He moved closer to her, so
that their shoulders and thighs touched. She stiffened, but she did no
move away. She just sat there, her sari wrapped around her tightly, as if
it was a fortress, and her eyes more interested on the pale floor of the
room. A short, dull laugh unconsciously escaped the old man's lips. He
was so much filled with excitement. He brought his mouth close to her face
and breathed, "From today, whatever you need for him, just ask me. Okay?"
She did not say anything. She moved her face slightly away from him, as if
he had bad breath. But he was not really interested in what he was saying
or how she had to respond. All his attention was on her sexy lips, her
big, round tits... "Did you hear what I said?" "Um" she nodded now,
feeling very uncomfortable because she was well aware of where he was
looking. She turned her torso slightly away from him. Then the old man
whispered, "Ever since I saw you...I have been..." He was unable to
complete his sentence. Suddenly he caught hold of her hand. She tried to
pull it away with a jerk. But he held on and, very reluctantly, she let
him have it. He squeezed it gently, looking at it like a child with a new
toy. He laughed again, a short triumphant laugh. A lusty laugh.
"Sar...," she whispered for no reason at all. "Why are you so afraid,
Sunandini?" Vasu asked. He lifted her hand and suddenly kissed it.
"Aiyo!" she said. She once again tried to free her hand from his grip.
She glanced at him and then looked away. He kissed her hand again. Then,
even as I looked, Vasu gently guided her hand to his loins. Shocked, she
withdrew her hand with a strong jerk and looked away from him. He slowly
extended his left arm around her shoulders and held her tightly. "Sar!"
she exclaimed. "Please..." he whispered into her ear, "don't get up." And
then, with his other hand he slowly parted his mundu to reveal a big,
half-erect cock! It looked like a large banana. Through the corner of her
eye my mother saw what he had done, and she turned her face away even more.
She tried to stand up, but he held her down with his one hand. Vasu was a
strong man. Even at this age, whenever Raghu was unavailable, he would
chop wood, a work in which I was not very skilled. "Please..." he begged.
My mother sat stiffly. He caught hold of her hand again. She tried in
vain to pull it away. He very slowly brought it to his penis. She cried
out lightly when her fingers touched his large organ, as if it was red hot.
She tried her best to free her hand from his grip. Now he used both his
hands and tried to make her hold his cock. "Please..." he said like a very
desperate beggar. He did not leave her hand. He knew that if he did, she
would immediately withdraw it. She did not say anything. She was sweating
hard and the shocked expression would not leave her face. He begged again.
She shook her head and kept up the tug-of-war with him. Without looking at
him, as if in a dream, she said, "Hari might wake up, sar." "He is fast
asleep, Sunandini. He won't wake up if we don't make any noise." She bit
her lips and rolled her eyes, as if she was unable to think clearly. How
could she? This was something that she had never imagined even in her
wildest dreams. My mother was not very religious minded; after her
husband's death she hardly ever went to the temple. Even now, she would
visit the temple only because she had to accompany Parvathiamma. "Please,
Sunandini..." Vasu begged. Then with my own eyes I saw my mother's fingers
gently tighten around Vasu's big cock. But she did not turn her face
around to look at him or his penis. She sat very stiffly, all the time her
face turned towards the wall. Vasu seemed to be feeling dizzy. He left
her hand very slowly, and with drunken eyes, he gazed at her hand holding
his cock on its own. And the cock - big as it was - was getting more and
more erect by the second. He tightened his grip around her shoulder,
drawing her closer to him. He sat and for a long time he gazed at her hand
holding his cock. She was holding it loosely, almost as if she was afraid
of crumbling it. And then, even as he looked, my mother started moving her
hand up and down, stroking his big cock very, very gently. He shut his
eyes, relaxing completely, and breathed, "This is all I
want...Sunandini...this is all I want." Up and down, up and down, went her
hand. Very gently. But she was actually holding his cock for namesake
only, rubbing it with just the "O" of her thumb and index finger. My god!
What am I seeing! I thought to myself. By the expression on her face you
could see that she was not liking it one bit. She was taking it all in
like a very awful tasting medicine which she wanted to gulp down as fast as
possible. Perhaps she was thinking that the sooner she satisfied him, the
earlier he would leave. This thought made her move her hand a little
faster. She grabbed his cock properly, using all her fingers and thumb,
and rubbed steadily. As she continued to rub him, he withdrew his arm from
her shoulder and sat back, planting his palms behind him on the cot. He
just watched her hand do the work. She sat stiffly all the time, not
daring to turn her face and look at his organ. But after a while I
realized that she was glancing at it from the corner of her eye. This
rubbing went on for more than ten minutes. Ten minutes is a very long
time. Just imagine, for a whole ten minutes my mother and the old man sat
in the silence of the small room, without exchanging any words, all the
time her hand working on his cock. She kept on moving her hand steadily,
non-stop. Her movements were slow, as if she was in no hurry. But this
does not mean that she was liking it. The expression on her face was one
that of vague repulsion. Then, all of a sudden, she grew restless and
stopped moving her hand. She said, "Madi, sar. Enough. Hari might wake
up." She could not take it any more. He shook his head impatiently. "No,
no," he said. "You go on...don't stop now..." She sat undecidedly for a
while. Then she whispered to him, "Sar, Shall we go into the kitchen?" I
wondered with a sudden panic whether she had seen that I was awake. Or had
I made some unconscious movements of my body? I was myself having an
erection under my lungi which was getting more and more uncomfortable.
Vasu's whole body was tense. Maybe he was on the verge of an ejaculation.
His eyes were shut tight and he was totally drenched in sweat.

[jay]

"Don't stop
now..." he seemed to mutter. With a feverish movement, he threw his arms
around my mother. "Aiyo, sar!" she exclaimed. She left his penis and
started to get up. But she could not get up, for the old man was too
strong for her. He grabbed her huge tits in his palms from behind her.
With a faint cry, my mother caught hold of his wrists and tried to push his
hands away, but he was too strong for her. She kept on trying to stand up,
but he held her in place. He dug his nose under her thick, straight hair
and started kissing her neck, at the same time he started kneading her huge
boobs very roughly. Quite thrilled, I watched how his strong palms were
squeezing her round, melon-sized tits. Her sari had slid down her
shoulders and I could see how, every time he squeezed, the tops of her
milk-white boobs swelled out through the low neckline of her tight blouse
like balloons. "Sar...let me go...please..." Tears welled up in her eyes
again. They were struggling with each other now, their breathing heavy,
the cot creaking wildly. "Ssshhh! Calm down," he warned her. "Your son
will wake up." "Please...sar..." As I said, Vasu was a really strong man.
He held her in place with his arms and kept on squeezing her tits. She
fought like a bird in a cage for some time. Then, probably from sheer
fatigue or from the realization that fighting was in vain , she stopped
struggling and sat with her hands clutching his wrists. "Why don't you
stay still?" he asked her, clear irritation in his voice. His question
seemed absurd, because she was already sitting still. She did not say
anything, and once again silence descended into the room. They sat on the
cot, he holding her body, his hands continuously kneading her huge boobs.
"I can understand," he whispered into her ear, "it has been a long time
since a man has come this close to you. So you are afraid. Don't be
afraid, please." He kissed the back of her sweat-stained neck. She kept
quiet. After some time, he said, "Let us lie down." This seemed to bring
her to life suddenly. She started to stand up. But he was too fast for
her. He threw his arms around her. "Please, sar," she begged, "let me
go..." She tried her best to free herself. He lifted my mother up almost
bodily and dropped her down on the cot. The old cot almost gave away.
"Aiyo!" she cried out loudly. Then, before she could get up, he pinned her
down by her shoulders and started to climb upon her. As he did so his
mundu came off him and fell on the floor, so that when he was lying on top
of my mother he was stark naked. His hands grabbed her wrists like
wrenches and spread her arms wide open. "Aiyo! Let me go!" she cried out
weakly. After looking at her tear-stained face for a second, he quickly
started kissing her. He kissed her all over her face, all wet, noisy
kisses that reflected the great lust he had been having for her. She kept
throwing her head this way and that to avoid his greedy lips. Now she was
really crying, her body rocking with each burst of emotion. "Shut up!" he
commanded her. He looked in my direction briefly, timidly. Then, placing
the flat of his palms upon her ears to steady her head, he pressed his lips
upon hers with such force that she could not make any more crying noises.
She tried to push him off her, but he was a strong man. For the next whole
minute or two he laid upon her like that, his lips glued to hers and she
trying weakly to make him get off her. So as not to be suffocated, she was
breathing heavily and noisily through her nose. They were both breathing
noisily. The night was very calm and only the sound of their unsteady
breathing disturbed the heavy silence. PART 5 For some time she had kept
making crying noises in her throat. But now she stopped. She was
constantly gazing at me through a corner of her eye. Her cheeks were still
tear-stained, but the tears were quickly drying. She had stopped
struggling now. The two figures lying so lip-locked on the cot were not
moving at all. Finally, Vasu lifted his head, ending the long kiss. He
looked at her. She looked at him and for a brief moment their eyes were
locked like their lips had been. Next, he started kissing her face again.
One, two, three...the kisses fell. They did not stop but kept falling.
She kept throwing her head gently to this side and that, gently moaning
complainingly. Oh, how he was kissing her face! "Sar, enough..." she said
after some time. "Hari might wake up any time." But he would not stop. He
planted a noisy kiss on her lips and whispered, "Let us do it very
quietly." "We will do it tomorrow...please..." she whispered to him,
entreatingly, submissively, "after Hari has gone to school...I will come to
your room." "No," he breathed, "I want you now." "Aiyo, sar..." He went on
kissing her, kissing her, kissing her... He gathered her soft, fat lower
lip between his teeth and pulled at it so hard that she shut her eyes
tightly and moaned in pain. He caught hold of her shoulders and gently
sucked her delicious, sexy lower lip for a some time. Then, he left her
lips and slowly slid down a little so that his face was over her bosom.
"Aiyo!" she exclaimed and quickly crossed her arms over her over-sized
boobs. He brushed away her arms impatiently and his eyes feasted on her
big, round tits packed tightly in her dirty, white blouse. All that
scuffle had made her sweat heavily. She was not wearing a bra under her
blouse and she was not in the habit of wearing one. And since her blouse
was totally wet because of her sweat, it had now become almost completely
transparent and a lot of her skin could be seen through it. Her dark
nipples were clearly visible even to me from where I lay. The nipples were
erect and looked like they could pierce the thin material of her blouse.
She tried to cover her tits once more but Vasu would not let her. She once
again tried to tell him that it was enough for one night, but he had
suddenly grown deaf. He gently poked his nose between her huge boobs. The
neckline of her blouse was so low that it presented a generous view of the
deep, dark cleavage between her huge tits. "Aiyo! Sar...aiyo," she said
and looked at him as he dug his nose deeper and deeper, as if to fathom the
depth of her soft cleavage. His palms cupped her lofty boobs from either
sides and fondled them lovingly. His thumbs circled her jutting nipples.
"Aiyo, sar...," she exclaimed. She looked in my direction a couple of
times. Clearly, she was perturbed at the thought of her son waking up
suddenly and seeing them in this position. I longed to assure her that her
son was not going to wake up tonight. I watched as she tried in vain to
remove his hands from her tits, as she tried in vain to push him off her
body. The old man was in a world of his own. Oh my god! Almost all of
his face had now disappeared between her enormous boobs and it looked like
her blouse would tear. But moment later, Vasu resurfaced, his face red.
He looked at the two tits in wonder again and kissed them lovingly. Next,
his hands began to fumble with the hooks of her blouse. My mother quickly
caught hold of his hands and gently shook her head from side to side,
looking at him beseechingly. "Please," he said. Still shaking her head,
she said, "No, sar...please...let us do it later..." "Just let me open your
blouse," he begged, "and then I will go." "Sar...Hari...Sar, let us go into
the kitchen." Vasu brushed away her hands very impatiently and undid the
first hook. "Sar..." My mother understood that it was futile to stop Vasu.
And now she watched as he kept on undoing one hook after the other. Her
blouse was very tight and her huge tits seemed only too eager to get out.
The thin material of her blouse was straining as each hook was undone.
When there were a couple of more hooks left Vasu paused to run his palms in
wide circles over the exposed portions of her huge boobs. Then he undid
one more hook. He looked into her eyes. She too looked at him. And at
that time something like a cloud seemed to come over her eyes. They became
so dark, as if she had just applied kanmashi on them. He looked at her.
Her enormous tits were almost free now; just one hook was holding
everything together. Her nipples were still hidden. The exposed portion
of her grand tits were sticking out of the now ridiculously low neckline of
her blouse like about-to-burst balloons. He leaned over her and dug his
teeth on those balloons. "Aiyo...sar..." she said, gently stroking her
fingers where he bit her. He now decided to undo the last hook. But the
last hook seemed to be stuck. The old man's fingers fumbled with it for a
while. Then he looked at her. She glanced in my direction furtively.
Then she gently brought her hands up and, lifting her head to have a closer
look, she undid the last hook. Plop! Oh me god! Oh my god! My mother's
huge, round tits! Bare! They were bigger than I had ever imagined. Vasu
cradled them lovingly between his palms, as if they were some fat newborns.
Her two coconuts seemed to be greatly relieved to be out of that tight
blouse. As he looked at them, at their sheer bulk, the old man's eyes
seemed to pop out of their sockets. He was finding it hard to believe that
he was actually holding her lovely tits in his hands, and they were bare,
and he could do whatever he wanted to with them. He was looking at them in
total disbelief. His mouth was slightly open as he looked. I saw him gulp
a couple of times.

[jay]

"Aiyo, sar..." said my mother. She covered her eyes
with a corner of her sari. Because of their enormous size and their
weight, her surprisingly firm tits were tilted to the sides so that a lot
of their bulk rested upon her upper arms. Her nipples made slanting angles
to her torso. Still, even in a reclining position, her massive tits were
somewhat retaining their rotundity and firmness. The old man gathered her
heavy tits together between his palms so that their tops rose up and the
nipples pointed straight up. He was still pop-eyed. He was finding it
hard to believe that he was actually holding her tits. He just kept
looking at them in sheer disbelief. After a while he lowered his head and
placed a kiss on each nipple. My mother peeped at him from under her sari.
Next he started licking her nipples and they soon became so hard and erect
that they tickled his tongue. I was myself taken aback when I saw how tall
her nipples had become as he licked her. He took one standing nipple
between his teeth and threw back his head, lifting the nipple and a portion
of the boob with it up. He did not let go until she had cried out in pain.
"Aiyo...sar..." she said, "what are you doing...?" The old man now ran a
trembling palm all over one tit, as if to get an idea about its actual
size, squeezing it a couple of times. He caught her nipple between his
thumb and forefinger and pinched it hard. He tugged at her nipple, so hard
that she had to catch hold of his arm. "Sar..." she begged. He smiled at
her. He could not stop now. He had just started to have fun. He grabbed
her well-rounded boobs in his large palms and started squeezing them. She
lay still with her face turned towards the window. Occasionally an "Aiyo"
would escape her lips when he squeezed roughly. He kept on exerting more
and more pressure, kneading her tits like dough. He had lusted for her
tits for a long time and now he wanted to play with them to his heart's
content. And he played with them like a possessed man. Kneading them,
pinching them, biting them, even slapping them. She kept on begging him to
stop. But he paid no heed to her. He now once again cradled her hulking,
well-rounded boobs between his palms and started shaking them from side to
side gently. It was a wonder to see something so big shaking. No, they
were not shaking. They were just wobbling from side to side. Her two tits
were sandwiched so tightly between his palms that they were raised up,
their crowns - the nipples - touching an unbelievable height. And the way
he was holding and shaking them, it almost looked as if he was doing a
balancing act in a circus. As he shook them, he watched her nipples draw
circles in the air. He gently brought his head down and greedily caught
one nipple between his lips. He started sucking the nipple. And she
moaned, a sexy moan. He sucked hard, taking control of both her nipples,
sucking them in turns, making her moan more and more. In between, he
placed his face between her boobs and shook them, so that they slapped
against his chin. He dug his teeth into her boob and bit her hard.
"Aiyo...sar...!" Then, he continued sucking her rigid nipples, continuously
moving from nipple to nipple as he sucked. And how she was moaning! I
noticed that she would gather a portion of her fat lower lip between her
teeth and push it out gently as she moaned. Vasu was having a good time.
He had dreamt of this moment so many times. "Look, how they are shaking,"
he said to her as he shook her tits. She uncovered her eyes briefly to
gaze at them. "Aiyo, sar, what are you doing...?" she whispered in an
embarrassment-filled voice. Pressing her tits together, Vasu brought her
nipples so close to each other that they touched. Holding them thus, he
sucked both her nipples together for a while. This was a sight to see.
She peeped at him from under her sari. Next, he once again started
kneading her huge tits, using all the strength that he had in his fingers.
"Aiyo, sar...melle..melle," she breathed. "Slowly, sar...slowly." He did
not care if he was hurting her. He kept on squeezing her abundant boobs,
as if wanted to make them rounder and softer. Her tits were so big that it
was not possible to hold one tit in each palm. But he was managing. In
between, he was also shaking her tits, as if he enjoyed it more that
anything. Finally, he left her tits and sat upon the cot. She looked at
him from under her sari. Once again, she crossed her forearms over her big
tits. Vasu now concentrated on her pebble-smooth belly. She had a large
belly, but it was very smooth, and it was milk-white. He ran his palm
gently over her belly, looking at it as if in a dream. He dug his middle
finger into her navel, tickling her. She quickly turned on her side and
lay with her back to him. The old man's eyes now rested on her arse. He
wanted to touch it at once. But he decided to wait. He looked at her once
from head to heel. He could not help but marvel at her sexy figure. She
was a village woman and because of the manual work she did she had somewhat
broad shoulders In sharp contrast to her shoulders, her waist was narrow,
but not too narrow. She was carrying a lot of fat there, but it was still
narrow, compared to her shoulders. And her arse, it was her most
invaluable asset. From her waist it was quite a steep climb to her hips.
As she lay there on her side, clutching her enormous tits, I could see her
sweat travelling from her hips to her narrow waist. I noticed that Vasu's
eyes were glued to her large, well-rounded arse. He looked at her back. I
was thinking that it would be lovely to see her bare back. And I found the
old man saying, "Take your blouse off." PART 6 She did not move. Sweat
glistened on her sexy waist where the flesh had doubled up deliciously with
age. He touched her waist. He said again, "Sunandini, take off your
blouse. I want to see your back completely bare." "Sar...not now
please...later," she begged without looking at him. "Please..." he said.
"Just take off your blouse...I just want to see you..." She lay still for a
while. Then she took in a deep breath and started peeling her blouse off
her. It was not easy. The blouse was too tight. She had to sit up to do
it. And I noticed that how, when she flourished her arms to take off her
blouse, her heavy tits swung like pendulums. In her hurry, her blouse got
a little torn. But she did not care. She removed it quickly and dropped
it upon the floor. Then she started to lie down again like before. But he
caught hold of her shoulders and gently turned her towards him. "Let me
look at you," he said. She tried to free herself, but it was not to be.
She gently crossed her forearms over her huge tits and kept her eyes
downcast. He gently rubbed the smooth skin of her shoulders and looked at
her with overwhelming lust in his eyes. His old-man eyes twinkled as he
studied her sexy face and full lips. She sat still as he studied her,
totally avoiding his eyes, but all the time aware of his eagle-like gaze.
He examined her great boobs which she was trying her best to hide from him.
He looked at her balloon-like, pebble-smooth belly, which was big and
bulging because of the uncomfortable position in which she was sitting. A
smile began to form on Vasu's lips. "You know," he told her slowly, "you
are a real mohini. Just looking at your face makes my cock restless." She
was visibly shocked by his remark, but she did not say anything. Outside,
a night-bird shrieked and both of them looked towards the window. Their
eyes met for a second. He leaned over and kissed her lips. "I love you,"
he said suddenly. She looked at him for a moment, confused as to what to
make of his statement. He kissed her again, this time the kiss ending in a
bite on her fat lower lip. He did not let go her lip immediately, though
she tried to pull it away. He gently gathered it between his lips and
sucked at it for some time. "I love you," he breathed again. A sudden
moan escaped my mother's lips. It was barely an audible one, but it came,
and with my own surprised eyes I saw her shifting a little closer to him.
He sensed it and he too moved closer to her and started running his palms
all over her bare back. He gave her one long and passionate kiss, almost
suffocating her with it. She blushed so hard that her cheeks looked like
fresh tomatoes. A moment later, he straightened. He had a lot of work to
do. He had done a lot of planning before coming here. All day long,
today, he must have fantasised about this meeting with her. "Stand on your
knees," he suddenly said to her. He wanted to have a good view of those
huge, round tits with her body in an erect position. She looked at him as
if she had just woken up from a dream. And she looked at him so strangely
that he had to repeat his words. She showed a lot of reluctance, but she
slowly raised herself on her knees, never once uncovering her bosom. He
sat in front of her in a comfortable position with his legs folded. For
the first time I saw my mother directly looking at his cock. But she
looked only once, then she looked away. With his erect cock standing like
the leaning tower of Pisa, Vasu placed his palms on her fat upper arms and
studied her. "Bring your hands down," he said to her.

[jay]

Her face became red
suddenly. How could she? Till yesterday she had looked at this man so
respectfully and reverently as he was a retired school-teacher who was kind
enough to occasionally help her son with his lessons, and, that too, free
of cost. She had always been afraid of even talking with him. She
respected him so much. He was, in a way, a god to him. It was because of
him that she and her son had survived their ordeal. Never in her wildest
dreams she could bring herself even to think of doing something of this
nature with this old man. And now... She was clearly lost in thoughts
when he asked her again to uncover her tits. She looked at him, her face
blank, and slowly shook her head. But then, the next moment, she gently
lowered her arms. She turned her head and looked away. No, she won't look
at him again. She won't be able to. She shut her eyes. She wished that
the earth would split and suck her in, like it did Sita. God, when will
this night come to an end? The old man looked at her round, oversized
tits. Now with her body in an upright position they hung in front of him,
two round coconuts, so big that they looked anything but wieldy. They were
so surprisingly firm, and had big nipples which any man would love to hold
between his lips. She was more than a feet away from his body, but her
boobs were so huge that her jutting nipples almost touched his face. Their
enormity was more evident to me, as I was looking at her body from the
side. To me they seemed like two lofty, balloon-shaped towers standing
horizontally between her fat upper arms. They were magnificent. They were
big. And looked really unwieldy. Vasu kept admiring their sensual beauty
for a long time. He studied the soft skin. Not a single blemish on it.
She was a healthy woman. He studied how the dark circular areas around her
erect nipples glistened with sweat. Her hardened nipples were now longer,
and looked so rigid that in her present position you could use them to hang
something. He moved closer to her and placed his hands on her shoulders,
close to her neck. He started sliding them down gently, very gently. When
they reached her boobs, he started moving them in a circular fashion, each
hand minutely taking note of the amazing rotundity of her colossal boobs.
His thumbs played with her nipples for a moment, striking them like one
would strike the strings of a musical instrument. Then he gently placed
his palms on either side of her tits, sandwiching them, and applied a
little pressure, making the great tits bulge out towards him. Now he
started shaking them gently from side to side. "Aiyo, sar..." she mouthed,
"what are you doing...?" She was not at all comfortable about her tits
being shook like this. Now that her tits were in a suspended position,
they shook like anything. Vasu first shook them very, very gently. Then,
as his momentum grew, he started moving his hands a little animatedly,
tossing her tits this way and that. She looked down at her tits as they
ran helter-skelter, like two little pigs playing. "Madi...madi sar..." she
whispered. She glanced at me once. Maybe she was agitated by the thought
of how in the world she would explain to her son if he suddenly woke up and
saw this queer scene. Vasu kept rocking her grand tits. He paused and
looked at her, the thumbs of his hands playing with her rubbery nipples.
"Did not your husband play with your boobs?" he asked, smiling. She did
not reply. He continued shaking her tits. He now shook them up and down,
jerking them up only with his thumbs in the beginning, then using his palms
for the purpose. He would toss her lovely coconuts so high that they would
bump against her chin. Then they would come down and wobble from side to
side in their suspended position. Next, he shook them in a manner which
made them bump against each other. It made sound too, two melon-sized
boobs colliding against each other. Thump, thump. Now this was too much
for her. She caught hold of his wrists and begged him to stop. He did and
she, clutching her man-handled tits, quickly got down from her knees. She
gently lay down again like before, with her back turned towards the old
man. He took in a deep breath, as if he was suddenly feeling tired. He sat
and for a long time eyed at her bare back. She looked very sexy from
behind. Her back was covered with her sweat. Beads of sweat rolled down
the skin of her waist. She was nearing forty, but her body had retained
that hour-glass shape which she had in her younger days. Her long,
straight hair had come undone, and now it lay scattered beside her head.
Vasu touched and stroked her hair. Maybe he loved her hair. A couple of
strands over her ears had turned gray with age, otherwise her hair was
completely black. The old man parted her hair from behind her neck and
bent down to kiss her there. She moved when he kissed her, tickled. He
kissed her bare shoulder. And then her waist. He gathered the flabby
flesh of her waist between his fingers and squeezed it so hard that she
clutched his hand. The sheet of sweat on her bare back was making her look
sexier. Sweat slowly trickled down the cleavage of flesh at her narrow
waist and down and across her back. He sat back and watched her, slowly
stroking his cock with his hand. She lay still the whole time. Then I
realized quickly that she was looking at him through the corner of her eye.
Lie on your belly," he said to her now. She waited a couple of seconds
just to show that she would not do it willingly. Then she rolled over
gently and lay on her belly, pressing her heavy tits against the cot. In
this position, her huge, but shapely arse stood out quite prominently. You
could make out its round shape through her sari. Vasu studied the
rotundity of her arse for a while. Then he touched it with his fingers.
It must have felt warm. Her whole body went tense when he placed both his
palms upon her buttocks. Gently he ran his trembling palms all over the
giant cheeks, in wide circular motions, taking into account their amazing
rotundity. She raised her head a couple of times to let him know that she
did not like what he was doing. He squeezed the big cheeks of her arse.
He pressed the cheeks together, catching her sari in the crack. He dug his
finger into the crack and she said "Aiyo". He dug his fingers into her
sari, feeling the depth of her arse-hole. As he kept exploring she brushed
his hand away. Then Vasu slowly climbed upon his knees. He touched her
arse and gently asked her to move to the center of the cot; she was lying
at present at the edge, with her right shoulder touching the wall. She
shifted her position and looked at him through the corner of her eye. He
planted his knees on either sides of her thighs. Then, placing his palms
on either sides of her shoulders, he gently lowered his torso and started
kissing the soft skin of her shoulder-blades. She lay still. As he
lowered his body further, the tip of his cock came into contact with the
cleavage of her arse - through her sari, that is. She visibly stiffened at
this. He kept on kissing her. And as he kissed her, he slowly let all of
his weight rest upon her. He was on top of her now. "Aiyo...sar..." she
said as he grabbed her smooth shoulders and kissed her hair. He lay like
that on top of her, sniffing the smell of sweat on the back of her neck.
He paused briefly and, clutching her shoulders tightly, he gently started
moving his pelvis up and down, in a manner which suggested that he was
fucking her arse-hole. She did not object, but lay still. But when his
movements became a little fast and he began to let his pelvis fall upon her
roughly, she turned her head to look at him. The cot creaked wildly and
this seemed to disturb her very much. "Aiyo, sar...what are you doing...?"
she said, her voice breaking with his pumping motions. "Hari will wake
up...sar...please...aiyo." He never stopped. Clutching her shoulders in a
vice-like grip, he went on "fucking" her arse through her sari. His pelvis
fell on her like a rubber stamp on paper. Bang, bang. Thumo, thump.
"Madi sar..." she begged. He would not stop. He was like a possessed man
now. The cot creaked like a creature alive, frantically, rhythmically.
"Stop, sar...please..." she begged. "You are making too much noise...you
will wake up Hari." "Let him wake up..." gasped Vasu. "Aiyo...he will see
us!" "Let him..." "What... are you saying, sar! He... is just a kid." He
stopped moving and lay panting on top of her. "He is not... a kid
anymore, Sunandini," Vasu said to her. "He has grown up." My mother did
not say anything. "How old is he now?" he asked her. "Thirteen."
"Thirteen is grown up. You should stop treating him like a kid." And,
after a pause, he added, "He must know everything about sex now." My mother
did not comment. Now Vasy had rested enough. He slowly started "fucking"
her arse again. This time she lay in silence. She did not say anything
even when his movements suddenly became ridiculously fast, and the cot
creaked loudly, complainingly. He moaned as if he was on the verge of an
ejaculation. But he did not ejaculate. He suddenly slowed down, his
breathing very heavy. He was tired. He had moved like a stallion. After
some time, he stopped moving altogether and lay very still. He was
catching his breath. Then he slowly slid off her and sat upon the cot
beside her. He kept on looking at her big, broad arse for a long time.