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Mekalai had discovered something about Sundar ‘anna’ (big brother) earlier. The first time it happened only because she had collected the clothes basket earlier than usual. Sundar anna’s lungi/ dhoti was there and her hand touched upon the wet, sticky area where Sundar had spent himself.
She spread out the cloth and saw the area where his cum was. She did not exactly know what that was but she knew it was something naughty and sexual. She wondered about whether it was that the cloth was used as a bed sheet by Sundar anna and his wife.
She didn’t think they had a sex life there and she reasoned out that she was correct. Curiosity got the better of her and Mekalai touched the part where a wad of cum lay accumulated. She felt the slickness of the viscous fluid her mouth agape in fascination.
At 19, the young housemaid was a virgin. She had this young man from back in her village to whom she was promised. And she and he petted heavily. She had felt stirrings of desire and allowed him to caress her in places her body told her was linked to that desire. And on occasion he had been bold enough to hold her hand and press it to his erection. She had squeezed the hardness she felt through his trousers and noted both warmth and moistness seep through. Was that moistness this fluid she saw in the cloth before her?
Mekalai had grown to admire Sundar anna over the years for his cordial manner with the maid and his completely non-sexual demeanor. She had heard stories of the men of the house, young and old, seeking dalliances with the daily help. She had heard of other working women – also old and young – from her community willingly allowing themselves to be taken. (But what it did it mean to be ‘taken’? She knew not.)
For some women it was one more source of pleasure. It had the added advantage of buying them privileges. Some others, less fortunate, obliged the masters for the privileges. For some it was the sexual pleasure, combined with the luxurious settings of a well kept house in contrast to their own living quarters.
And then there were some like Mekalai who avoided having anything to do with the houses where they worked, beyond their duty. Some worried about the ladies of the house. Some worried about the consequences for themselves. Some were just not the type.
And yet, almost all could relate tales of having been watched, given lecherous looks, touched inappropriately or propositioned.
Given all those tales, Sundar anna was an exception. In fact, Mekalai’s mother felt completely safe leaving her daughter unsupervised at his house, including at times when she went away to her village for a few days. There were few places in a big city where a beautiful, luscious lass like her daughter could be safely left behind. It was partly the city, but it was also partly the girl, if the hot-blooded nature of the women from her community was anything to go by.
Her daughter was not like those others. Neither was Sundar anna.
This excellent working environment allowed Mekalai to be as free as free could be without any worries. There emerged an unspoken closeness between the 72 year old master of the house and the 19 year old maid of the house.
She never really took care to cover herself though she wore the more practical and work-safe ‘chudidar’, which is like wearing trousers with a top whose hemline reaches below or around the knees. The alternate traditional dress is the very sexy saree. A blouse that ends just below the breasts leaves the entire midriff open. The blouse itself could be tailored daringly.
The back of the blouse could be left completely bare as some of Sundar’s daughter’s blouses were. It left nothing to imagination as men gawked as the vast expanse of smooth skin, inviting to be touched and caressed.
The breasts could be confined illegal bahis tightly and the thinner material might clearly outline the breasts in all their glory, leaving nothing to be imagined about the position, shape or size of the nipples that topped them.
Simply simply cutting a low neckline to the blouse could also expose the upper slopes of the breasts. Depending on how a woman was built, that could show off lovely rising slopes, or deep-valleyed cleavages.
There are even blouses which have no side panels so that a lucky man might catch a glimpse of a bulge of breast, bursting through the confines of the blouse. There was something to a breast pushing at the limits of a garment. It reminds men of ripe fruit waiting to be taken.
And if the blouse itself was not enough, there was the diaphanous length of cloth, which forms the saree itself. It could cover everything – but it could also reveal it all.
And even if it covered everything, the part that covers the upper body could be allowed to fall at a very precise moment, bringing more allure to the woman.
The lower part of the saree brings eroticism to the visual experience by where it is tied. Tie it lower to show the curve of your hip. Arrange it to go below the swell of your belly so that your belly button is on display and men feel the urge to feel that swell of curvaceous belly.
Tie it still lower and tantalize the men with visions of your hip and your lower abdomen. “How much lower will reveal her pubic area?” a man might catch himself wondering.
And finally, one tug of the knot that held this all together and a shrug of the shoulder and the woman would be open to her man of choice. The blouse added to the seductive charm. The skirts could just be lifted up…
Like sun, clouds and the play of light on an undulating landscape below bring poetry to flow, so it is with the saree.
And for that precise reason it had given way to the ‘chudidar’ for the working woman.
So Mekalai was by definition modestly dressed. Within that, she never bothered to wear the chiffon sash around her chest to cover herself. She felt at complete ease around Sundar ‘anna’. She leaned to work and treated Sundar to a feast for the eyes.
When she saw him looking, she laughed openly at him with an innocence that over time slowly warmed Sundar to the sexuality simmering just below the surface in their relationship. She was an alluring mix of innocence and impishness. She was warm with him and mischievous. There was nothing sexual about it, even though he was on many occasions actually observing her body.
And then one day Mekalai found his dhoti loaded with his cum. And then she started looking for it every time she took the wash basket out. Some days it had dried. On other days he seemed to have done something just now. But what had he done? She knew not.
She knew that the male organ swelled up in proportions as it did with her fiancé. She knew what it looked like and how different that part of the anatomy was for the two sexes. And there were many scenes in the movies that were sexually explicit in foreplay to give her a sense of how couples played with each other. But there were no scenes that actually showed the act. All of that was speculation and giggles between the girls in her group. Some knew more but would not let on lest they be branded promiscuous. Others knew less but wanted to know more.
And then came today. She thought she heard her name being called. She was busy organizing the dressing table and the lady of the house had gone to the market. In her spontaneous response as the maid in the house she had tried the door of the bath and it had opened.
There was Sundar ‘anna’ lying in the tub. He was in his dhoti but his hand was vigorously moving over his cock and his hips were thrusting illegal bahis siteleri up and down. He was moaning her name over and over again and she saw the wet spot appear on the dhoti. So this was how ‘anna’ messed up his dhoti. He jerked and convulsed, ignorant of her presence.
And then it was too late to hide what had happened. In instant she knew. That is the beauty of the human mind and of the primal instincts of the human. In one instant everything can go from fog to clarity. There was no script to what she knew now. It was just that a man entered a woman and with the same motions she had seen Sundar ‘anna’ engage in, emptied in her.
Sundar ‘anna’ looked up and their eyes met. In that instant she wanted to love him. Her chest throbbed and her breasts felt constricted. She shut the door to hide herself from him and him from her.
She had seen the mess in his dhoti so many times! Had he fantasized about her all those times? She wondered.
Her fiancé had never known a woman as far as she knew. Much of what he wanted from her could be put down to lust. But Sundar ‘anna’ seemed different. And what a man who had enough experience of the world wanted from her seemed special.
She was willing to love him. Like in everything else, he would probably be kind and teach her and she could be a better wife to her own fiancé. Her fiancé seemed more interested in the sexual aspects of their relationship and had promised that he would not bother with the quality of her cooking or housekeeping. Her mother too kept advising her to know the ‘arts of a woman’ without explaining anything more.
She felt her breasts flush with a rush of blood and her pussy warming with juices at the thought of letting Sundar ‘anna’ do whatever he wanted with her.
She retreated to her own cul-de-sac in the back balcony of the house and sat down. She could not imagine him being anything but tender with her. Suddenly, she wanted to lose her virginity to him – she knew it was the right way to lose it.
She wanted to show him more of her breasts than her dress allowed her to. She wanted to be touched and felt there. She often felt the need for her breasts to be sucked and wondered if ‘anna’ would do that for.
Only she did not want to call him ‘anna’ any more. But what else could she call him? Definitely not by his name! All other relationship names used by servants were blood relations of one sort of another. They ranged from elder brother to uncle through to father or simply ‘elder’.
It was not those names that bothered her. It was the name by which she would want to call him when he filled that void between her legs.
Mekalai lay back and dreamed of Sundar ‘anna’ on top of her. This was not her hand under her top – it was his. It was he kneading her breasts and tugging at her nipples.
She slid her other hand down the pajamas and fingered her curls down there. This was his hand too. She closed her eyes and imagined the hand snaking down to her pussy was his too.
And while on another day just a few strokes of the pussy and perhaps a shallow thrust of her fingers might have been enough, today she raised her hips and hunching her back, tried to push three of her fingers all at once into herself.
This was he too, she thought, her breathing growing ragged. She had expected three fingers to stretch her but today they proved inadequate. She rammed them in harder but her own hand could not go too far.
“Sundar, anna!” she whispered as she fucked herself best as she could. It would not do. She was sure he was more filling than this. And if she was to imagine him, her cunt would have to be fuller than her three fingers could manage. She looked around and found a discarded fragrance dispenser. With its snub nosed cap and just-so thickness it seemed it would do canlı bahis siteleri the trick.
She raised her hips and wiggled the pajama lower down so she could spread her legs as wide as would be needed to get Sundar ‘anna’ in.
She brought the spent canister to her lips and ran the snub nose on her lips. It seemed cold and Sundar she imagined would be hot, hotter. She dipped one of her fingers and it went further than those pouted three. She finger-fucked herself fast with no satisfaction at all. She brought out the smeared finger and applied the juices to the head of her improvised dildo.
And she pushed it gently, and her hips thrust up more aggressively almost by reaction.
“Anna!” she called out, aching for him. The incongruousness of calling out to a lover as brother receded as the aches and demands of her body soared.
The slender canister slid deeper and with each sliding motion it became easier for her to fuck herself. Her throbbing cunt grabbed at the now slick steel contours of the canister.
Mekalai played with her breasts that she knew her Sundar ‘anna’ watched. In desperation to feel more pleasure she pinched and twisted her nipples.
The canister flew faster, in and out. The thrusts became shallow but furious. Twisting and turning she found an angle at which it seemed to do the most.
Her head tossed about in pleasure as she called out to Sundar anna again and again. Having got the angle right she slowed down so that she could push the canister as far as it would go. This was not the canister; it was Sundar anna’s cock. Would he reach so far into her? At this point would not his weight be on her?
Oh, where was he! She mauled her young breasts in desperation as she wanted the man and now. The canister combined the angle and the depth of fucking. It seemed to create a wave inside her body.
She did not know what would happen next. She knew from the dhotis that a wad of cum spewed. What would happen to her? She did not know. But her instincts told her to drive on and build the wave up higher. To angle and depth she added speed.
The canister touched her many erotically charged spots. And at its depth spread her cunt out wonderfully. The stretched lips and walls added to her pleasure. And with the speed, the waves were not allowed to recede – they combined with each other and became a wave of waves.
That was how Sundar anna would fuck her, is it not? With speed the way his own hand had sped over his cock? That fisting would be provided by her cunt. That canister would be replaced by his cock.
They would fuck, ‘anna’ and she. The way she was fucking herself. And the hands on the breasts would be his. And then…
And then she exploded deep in her womb. Something gave. Her body thrashed and she called out, “Sundar, anna!”
As her pussy walls quivered she spent on the metal canister and it became slicker and of less use to her. After thrusting it in a few more times she cast it aside and put three fingers again, this time holding them slightly apart for her cunt was now used to a wider body. She allowed her bucking and thrusting body to hammer up onto the fingers. She deftly used them to touch herself and caress areas that seemed to need more touch than thrust.
With each shiver of pleasure she called out his name.
She now knew what it felt like when a woman came. She had never masturbated so furiously or vigorously and never before spent the way she had just spent.
Her body sagged from the release and she slowed down to toying with herself.
As sanity returned she thought of the all the chores she still had to finish.
She sighed. She was content with the release and unsatisfied from the wanting of Sundar anna. She looked around and saw the canister need washing – not from her cum but she seemed to have bled from the vigor of her actions.
She opened her eyes. And there was Sundar ‘anna’. He had come looking for her, worrying that the girl had fled after spotting him in the bathtub.
It was his turn to close the door and leave.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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