This real life experience happened to me three years ago. At that time I had just started working in a shoe-making factory in Tamilnadu, as an accountant. I was twenty-four and had no experience in matters of sex, whatsoever. I mean, I used to think about having sex and I used to masturbate. But I had never had any real experience with a woman. For one thing, I was shy. Another, I abhorred the very thought of having sex with a prostitute. But sexual desire in me was there in plenty. I was masturbating almost every night, and I was also wondering if that was affecting my health adversely.
I was a friendly guy at my workplace. Everyone liked me because I had a good sense of humor. Since I was from Kerala, I was not able to speak Tamil well. But I was picking up fast. There was one other malayalee in our company, a boy of nineteen called Shiju. He ran errands and did odd jobs. He was from a poor background. He was not a talkative person. And, even though we belonged to the same state, we were not friends. We just knew each other, that’s all. From my side, I had never let him feel that I was keeping a distance from him because I was an accountant and he was a mere laborer in the factory. The fact was that he was not friendly with anyone there. He was an aloof sort of creature.
When Onam came I asked permission from my boss to go to Kerala. He was reluctant at first, since it was a new factory and work was going on in full swing, but then he granted me a leave of five days. So I got ready to go to my hometown Palakkad. I was to leave by the six o’clock bus in the evening and catch the Trivandrum mail at Katpadi railway station in the middle of the night. While I was hurriedly doing the packing, Shiju came to my room. He too had asked for leave, but the boss had declined straight away.
What is the matter, Shiju?” I asked. “Want me to bring you something?”
“No,” he replied. By the expression on his face I understood that he wanted something from me. It was usually money. He used to borrow small amount from me when he had to urgently send money to his home. He said now, “
Will you do me a favor, sar?”
“Name it, Shiju.”
“Sar, if I got the leave for Onam I was planning to bring my mother here.”
“Here? Why”
“Family problems, sar. Ever since my sister has got married my poor mother is not getting any peace of mind at home. She is not at all treated nicely. Her daughter and son-in-law want to drive her out of the house.”
“Oh. But, Shiju, where will you keep her here? In your room? It is so small and you are sharing it with someone?”
“That person is moving. And I am sure that we will manage, sar.” He waited a few seconds. Then he said, “If sar don’t mind, can my mother accompany you when you are coming back here? She is a village woman, sar, and has not seen much of the outside world.”
I thought about it. I had no problem with that.
“Where will she board the train?” I asked.
“At Palakkad itself. I will convey the message to her through telephone that she is to meet you at the station.”
“All right, Shiju.”
So I went home for Onam and spent the festive occasion with my parents at their house. My elder sister and her family also came there. It was a nice experience. I forgot all about Shiju and his mother and remembered about them only when I was getting ready to go to Palakkad railway station. I wondered then how I was going to recognize Shiju’s amma. She should be about forty or forty-five, I thought. But how would I recognize her. Palakkad railway station is crowded most of the time. But still, I was able to locate Shiju’s amma. Or, to be more correct, she located me. Her daughter and son-in-law had come with her to see her off. They had together reached the railway station early in the evening, after a bus-ride of three hours from Their village.
She had seen me standing on the platform and had pointed me out to the son-in-law, who had then come up to me and asked me whether I was Anandan Menon of the Duro Shoe Factory.
I asked Shiju’s mother (her name was Padma) how she was able to recognize me.
“Shiju gave me a good description of you, sar?” She replied.
I looked at her and my very first thought was that she did not at all look like Shiju. Shiju was dark and lean. She was a fair-complexioned woman and looked healthy. She seemed to be around thirty-five, but she could have been older. Her skin had a healthy shine to it and that was making her look younger. I gently asked her not to call me ‘sar’. “Call me Nandu, Amma,” I told her. “Everyone at my home calls me Nandu.” At which she smiled, a good-natured smile. But she did not stop calling me ‘sar’, which I found somewhat embarrassing.
The moment they found me, the daughter and son-in-law left the place without even saying a proper goodbye. I guessed that they were too eager to get rid of Padma. I noticed that she was hurt by their conduct, but she did not show it.
Our train came at eight. We boarded it in the general compartment and, though it was very much crowded, we were lucky to find places to sit. She was reluctant to sit next to me. But I reassured her by telling her that I was only like her son. She sat down and fell asleep very quickly, unknowingly resting her head on my shoulder. Maybe the bus journey in the evening had been very tiring.
I was afraid of sleeping because we would reach Katpadi somewhere in the middle of the night or in the early morning. And I did not want to miss that. I had to positively reach my workplace the next day. So I tried my best to keep awake. But I dozed off after a while and woke up only when someone cried out that the train had reached Katpadi. I hurriedly woke up Shiju’s amma and we got down just in time.
I looked at my watch. It was five o’clock in the morning. The train was a bit late. We started to go out of the station. I was hoping to find a taxi outside. Buses would not start running until it was eight.
Imagine my dismay when I learnt from the station-master that there would be no taxi or buses plying that day because it was a twenty-four hours
Tamil Nadu bandh due to some communal riots in some parts!
Tell me, is there no way we can find a taxi?” I asked him.
“Not even if the gods ask,” he replied with a smile.
I thought about it. It was a four-hour bus journey from Katpadi to my place of work. So walking that long distance was simply out of question.
“What shall we do, sar?” Shiju’s mother asked me.
“Don’t worry, amma. We will find a way.”
I asked the station-master if there was a lodge nearby where we could stay. He said that there was one. But he was afraid that it would not contain any vacant rooms. The bandh was a surprise to many people who had got down at that station.
Anyway, I and Shiju’s mother went to this lodge, a dilapidated two-storey building and met the person who worked as the receptionist. And he said that there was only one room, but it was too small for two people to stay.
“There is no bigger room?” I asked.
He shook his head. He said, “But you both will be able to there without any problems, since you are only mother and son. It is better for you to take it, since it is the last. Today everything will be shutdown and no vehicles will run. Sar, it is better to stay indoors today.”
So I took it. He gave us the keys and directed us to go up a narrow flight of stairs, to the very end of a dark corridor having a row of tiny rooms. Room No.69. Before we went to our room I used the telephone at the reception desk to call my boss and tell him about my condition. He was sympathetic and told me that he was aware of the bandh and he could extend my leave for one more day.
The room was no Bigger than a bathroom. Infact, it was so small that it could easily be mistaken for a cupboard. Somehow a tiny bed had been squeezed into it. It had a small mirror on the wall and a tiny window. I looked at the room and wondered how we were going to adjust there. Shiju’s mother read my thoughts and she suddenly said that she could stay in the corridor since it would be difficult for both of them to adjust in that tiny room. In the corridor? I quickly said that there was no need of doing that, that it was alright, that somehow we should be able to manage.
We put our things under the bed. The room did not obviously have an attached toilet or bathroom. We would have to use the combined toilets and bathrooms at the other end of the corridor.
I undid the bolts of the window and pushed the shutters open. Immediately, I closed them again because an unbearable stench entered the room from the window.
“Ugh! It is so awful!” I exclaimed. I peeped out through the dusty glasses of the window and saw that the area below the window, which was actually the backyard of the lodge, was being used as a garbage dumping ground. “The place is full of garbage. We cannot open this window. I’ll report it to the receptionist.”
I looked at her. She looked very tired.
“Amma, do you want to use the toilet?” I asked her. She shook her head. She looked nervous and worried, a rustic woman, getting a rough taste of the outside world. I put a hand on her shoulder and gently told her that there was no need to worry. She smiled briefly. I asked her to lie on the bed and rest I while went to the toilet to freshen up. She told me that it was okay, that she was not tired. But her face told me otherwise.
“Amma,” I told her, “I am like your son. I have a mother just like you at my home in Palakkad. So don’t be shy before me, okay.”
She smiled and nodded. She seemed to relax a bit. But she told me that she would not use the bed, that she would lie on the floor.
“Why? No, amma,” I said. “You lie on the bed. I will lie on the floor.”
Tears rose up in her eyes when I said that . She said, “You are a very good man, sar. I wish my son-in-law was like you. No, let me sleep on the floor. I am used to sleeping on the floor, son.”
I realized that it was futile to make her sleep on the bed. “Okay,” I said. “But use the bed now, since it is free at the moment.”
She nodded, but still looking a little reluctant.
The receptionist appeared at the doorway and announced that if we required breakfast and lunch he could supply it from a nearby restaurant. The restaurant was shut, but its kitchen was open. So I ordered some idlis and dosas and tea. I also complained to him about the foul smell. He said that he would do something about it. Then I went to the toilet.
I took a bath and returned fifteen minutes later. When I pushed open the door of the room she jumped up from the bed and started to stand up. I asked her not to get up. But she got up anyway, adjusting her sari in the process. She told me that the food had come. I asked her why she did not start eating and she said that she wanted to wait until I returned. After that she went to the bathroom for a quick freshening up and then we had our breakfast together, sitting on the small bed.
She asked me now whether I was married. I said no. She asked me some questions about my family and about how Shiju was doing at the workplace. I answered all her questions gently. Evidently, she had grown to like me. But that was not a new thing for me. Everybody liked me. Thus we sat talking until we had finished all the idlis and dosas. After that we decided to sleep, since we were both btired. She spread a bedcover on the floor, since she had decided to sleep on the floor. I shut and bolted the door and lay down on the bed. The bed was small, but the mattress on it was thick and soft. I fell asleep Immediately.
I woke up suddenly at ten. The sun was high up in the sky and a bright light was coming into the room through the small window. The power supply had gone and the old, dirty-looking ceiling-fan in the room had stopped working. I was bathing in sweat. I started to turn over on my side and I looked at Shiju’s mother. I froze.
She was deep asleep. I could hear her gentle snoring. She was lying on her side with her back to me. Just like me, she was bathed in sweat.
The white and yellow sari she was wearing had become quite disorderly. I don’t know how, but her sari and her petticoat had moved a long way up from its position at her feet, and her legs were bare up to the thighs.
And what lovely thighs they were! Fat and round, fairer than the rest of her.
I looked away the moment my eyes fell on them. But when I realized that she was fast asleep, I let my eyes slowly rest on them. Suddenly, my heart began to beat wildly. Lusty feelings began to enter my mind. I tried to brush the thoughts away with a shake of my head. But it was not that easy.
Shiju’s mother was a shapely woman. As I said, she was healthy looking and had an attractive face which men would not mind giving a second look. But the features that stood out prominently – quite prominently – on her person were her tits and ass. Her tits were big. Oversized, actually. And looked like they were very heavy. For a woman of forty they were quite firm and well rounded.
And, her ass. A more shapely ass I had not yet set my eyes upon. It was big. Enormous, actually. But not at all misshapen. Far from that, the cheeks of her ass were firm and were the shapes of bubbles. I guess she had what you would call bubble-butts. Ever since I met her my eyes had been inadvertently moving to her ass. I had watched, albeit unconsciously, how the cheeks of her great ass moved when she walked, one jerking up and the other down, and vice versa. And, at least once, I think she had caught me looking at what I had been looking at.
And, now, I was finding myself quite unable to take my eyes off her milk-white thighs. I was found myself slowly sidling to the edge of the bed to have a closer look at them. And my heart was beating like a bass drum in my chest.
I saw that her thighs were sweaty. Sweat-beads were rolling down the wide expanse of her thighs and dropping on the bed-cover on which she was lying. Even as I watched, she moved her legs and and torso and laid down in an almost face-down position. Her sari moved up a little more.
Oh, god! How would her bare ass look? I found myself wondering. Now I had a great longing to see her bare ass.
My cock was already erect and I was feeling uncomfortable. I put my hand into my lungi and underwear and adjusted the position of my boy. And, instead of pulling my hand out, I kept it insde my underwear and began to slowly stroke my cock while keeping my eyes fixed on her sexy thighs. And all the time I was wondering how her enormous ass would look bare.
After some time, the thought of her bare ass simply began to drive me crazy. My lust and excitement reached such a peak stage that I decided to push her sari up over her great ass with my own hand!
What if she woke up? She would not. She was snoring steadily. She was deep asleep. I just had to see her bare ass! I knew that if I pushed her sari up just a little I would see her bare ass, because I was sure that she wore no panties. Village women did not wear one; moreover, it was not at all difficult to make out the shape of the cheeks of her ass through her sari when she walked. I had a very strong hunch that underneath her sari and her petticoat she had nothing else on. I would see, if I lifted her sari up.
My unsteady hand moved down. I slowly put two fingers between her thighs and under her petticoat and sari. I did it extra carefully, so as not to Touch her skin. I took a deep breath and looked at her.
Her snoring had never stopped. Now I tugged at her petticoat and sari.
What a disappointment! Her sari was stuck under her thighs. It could not be moved up even an inch.
I tried again. This time with some force. But her sari would not budge. I Realized that it was a futile exercise.
Then my finger-tips brushed against the cheeks of her arse.
And she moved!
I withdrew my arm with the speed of lightening.
She brought her hand to her ass and scratched the area I had accidentally touched. Her eyes were still shut. But she was waking up. Then she suddenly opened her eyes and saw me.
“Aiyo!” she exclaimed and sat up.
She saw that her thighs were bare, and quickly adjusted her sari. There was terror in her eyes. She looked at me and she saw the same terror in my eyes also. The end of her sari covering her bosom had slid down her shoulders. She caught it and put it in its place immediately.
I was filled with shame. I moved and laid facedown on the bed, digging my nose into the pillow. I just lay like that, wishing with all my heart that the world around me would disappear somehow.
I don’t know how long I lay on the bed like that. In between, I heard her undo the bolt of the door and step out of the room. Maybe, she went to the toilet. After some time, I fell asleep.
I dreamt that I was travelling in a train, in a crowded general compartment.
The heat was intense and everyone was sweating hard. I dreamt that I fell asleep and somebody stole my things.
So when Shiju’s amma called my name I sat up with a start.
“What..?” I exclaimed, my mind in a jumble.
“This man is calling,” she said, pointing at the receptionist standing at the door.
“Sar, i’ve brought the lunch,” he said. “Do you want supper too?”
“Er…yes…” I said.
I understood that he wanted money. I got up and handed him a fifty rupee note which I fished out of my purse. He took it and went away.
Then, without even looking at Padma, I went to the toilet.
When I returned, she had arranged the food on disposable plates. We sat down on the bed and ate in silence. I avoided her eyes. She, too, tried not to look at me. By now, the electricity was back, and the old fan over our heads was whirring away.
“Will Shiju be worried?” she said after some time.
It was then I realised that I had failed to tell my boss in the morning that Shiju’s mother was with me and that he should convey this message to the boy.
“It’s all right,” I said, “My boss will tell Shiju that we are in Katpadi.”
I mentally made a note to go down to the reception after having my lunch and call my boss. I would ask him to tell Shiju that there was nothing to worry.
Or was there?
I looked at her. Now that the ice was broken, I was getting the courage to look in her direction. She was looking down at her plate. For the first time I noticed that she had such sensual lips. My sex-laden mind immediately began to imagine about how those lips would look sucking a cock. Her eyes were downcast, but I think she saw , through the corner of her eye, that I was looking fixedly at her face.
I looked away. I looked at her face a moment later and her eyes were still downcast. But she was aware that I was looking at her. I began to admire the beauty of her face. I already knew that she was a widow. Shiju had told me that he had lost his father five years ago. But she was wearing a bindi on her forehead. Widows did not wear bindis. For ornaments, she had on a set of tiny gold earrings, a thin gold chain and a nose-ring.
Had she married again?
“Your husband…?” I said slowly.
She looked at me a little nervously.
“He took another woman five years ago,” she told Me a little awkwardly, a tinge of sadness evident in her voice.
So Shiju had lied to me. I did not ask her more questions on this topic.
Lunch over, she rolled up the leftover and the used disposable plates in a sheet of old newspaper. She went to the tiny window and tossed it outside.
She was standing at the window, with her back to me. I looked at her ass. Oh, it was so shapely. So big and round. She wheeled around suddenly and caught me red-handed. But now I did not feel much embarrassment. I just slowly looked away. We washed our hands and face with the jug of water that had been provided to us by the receptionist.
it was half past three in the afternoon now.
“I’m going down to call my boss,” I announced and went out of the room.
When I came back after some time I found that the door was bolted from inside. I knocked lightly.
“It is me,” I said.
“Sar,” she called out from inside, “please wait, I am changing my sari.”
I waited. After two minutes, she opened the door. She was now in a white sari with thin red border and white blouse. It was an old sari. She probably wore it at home. She was preparing herself for the night.
“My boss will tell Shiju that there is nothing to worry,” I told her. She looked relieved.
“The receptionist is saying that it is not safe to venture out of this building even now,” I said.
“Oh.”
“What a day!”
I sat down on the bed.
“Tell me about your village,” I said. There was nothing to do other than make conversation. And I liked the idea of sitting and just looking at her face. I had left the door of the room open. She showed some reluctance to sit on the bed. But when I gestured her to sit down, she did. She did not sit properly. She just sat on the corner of the bed, keeping her feet on the floor. She started telling me about her village. The name of her village was Devakipuram. It was a small village with no schools, no hospitals, nothing.
As she talked, I kept looking at the movements of her sexy lips. She had large, soft lips which moved in a refined manner when she talked. But I was sure that she was illiterate.
I asked her if she had attended school, and she said that for five to six years. She used to go to a school in the adjoining village. But when her mother died she had to stop education and do house-work.
She went on talking and I kept on throwing glances at her nice lips. Soon, I was having a hard on. I imagined her lips kissing my cock, and then parting them to slowly take my lad in. She suddenly looked into my eyes and realised that I was not paying attention to what she was saying. I think she also got a whiff of what was going on in my mind. She turned her eyes away with a mildly hurt expression on her face. She became a little nervous. But she kept on talking, telling me more about her life in her village, the people there, the business there. I realised that she was one talkative woman, so unlike Shiju. Shiju would have sat with me all this while and not a word would have escaped his lips. Instead, I would be having to do all the talking. Here Padma was doing all the talking. On the other hand, she could be talking so much in order to hide her nervousness. But she was a good talker. That was apparent.
All I had to do here was listen. And I was a good listener. Everyone told me so.
The manner in which she was talking to me was making me feel like I had know her for many years. She was a village woman, untouched by any urban sophistications, whatsoever, and she was narrating to me the stories of her life and her village as if I was a long lost relative of her. Emboldened by this sudden intimacy on her part, I started gazing at her lips quite fixedly now. She was aware of what I was doing, but she was ignoring it Completely. It was as if she was lost in her own world. From her lips I slowly shifted my gaze down to her melon-sized boobs. Initially, I just threw occasional glances at her jutting bosom. But slowly, as the desire in me reached a boiling point, I got brave enough to keep my eyes glued to her beautiful bosom, even when she was looking. My heart was beating fast, though. She paused, unable to continue because I was looking so unashamedly at her boobs. And I was not even turning my eyes away. She was no longer able to ignore my conduct. She stopped talking. I looked into her eyes. She slowly turned around and sat with her back to me.
“What happened?” I asked gently. She did not reply. I did not ask her again. I knew that she knew that I knew why she had stopped talking.
I looked at her. Despite the ceiling-fan working at top speed, she was sweating like anything. Her blouse was all wet and was clinging to her body like a second skin. The blouse had become completely see-through. She might as well be showing me her bare back. Village women did not usually wear bras. It looked like an invitation to me.
I gulped and got up. I shut the door, doing the bolt very gently, without making a single sound. I looked at her. She had not moved from her position. I went and sat directly behind her, my heart thumping wildly.
I placed my hands on her shoulders.
She stiffened. “Sar, I am…you said I was like your mother,” she said slowly, without looking at me.
This remark from her totally discouraged me. I removed my hands from her shoulder.
The picture of Shiju’s face flashed before my mind’s eyes.
I stood up and undid the bold of the door. I looked at her. She had not moved from her position, but she was gazing at me from the corner of her eye. I went out of the room, closing the door gently.. My mind was now restless, filled to the brim with shame and remorse. I went down to the reception counter. The receptionist looked at me and smiled in a friendly manner. I stood at the counter and talked with him for some time. I asked him if it was now safe to venture out. He replied that he was not sure. Anyway, I decided to go to the railway station just to while away the time. I went out of the lodge. The street outside was wearing a deserted look.
I returned to the lodge at about six and went up to our room. Room No. 69. I had, by then, made up my mind to ask Shiju’s mother to forgive me.
The door was not bolted from inside. I pushed it open. I found her lying on the bed, asleep. My blood rushed up to my face.
Her sari was once again disorderly, just like in the morning. She was lying on her back, with a hand resting on her large belly. Her sari did not cover her bosom. Her huge boobs, packed tightly in her white blouse, were pointing directly towards the ceiling. Her blouse was now totally drenched. It was as if she had just taken a shower with it on. From where I stood, it looked like she was not wearing a blouse. The color of the skin of her boobs, the nipples… everything was visible to me. Her semi-naked tits were gently rising and falling with her breathing. Her palm was placed upon her navel.
I gulped for the umpteenth time that day. What should I do? Should I gently close that door and go out for a walk again?
I looked at the towering tits. Oh, they were so much big and round! Just as I liked them.
Slowly, I closed the door and bolted it without making a sound. I gently sat down upon the bed, all the wile gazing at her enormous tits. I had to touch them. I had to.
The next moment I put my hands on them. She opened her eyes with a start.
“Aiyo!..sar!” She exclaimed.
She looked at me with overwhelming fear in her eyes.
I squeezed her tits.
Sar…leave me…”
She tried to push my hands away. But I was too strong for her.
“Please…” I whispered to her. “Let me…do it…”
She tried to get up. I pinned her down with my elbow.
“Sar…you said I was like your mother…” she said, suddenly tears beginning to form in her eyes.
“I…cannot help it…please….”
I folded my legs and climbed upon the bed, never leaving my tight hold on her ample boobs,
“Sar, let me go!” She cried. “Would you…do this… to your mother?”
The teardrops that were clinging to the corner of her beautiful eyes let go and rolled down.
I put my legs on either sides of her and started to press my lips against hers. Suddenly she put both her hands on my shoulders and pushed me with an amazing strength.
“Sar!”
She was a village woman, used to working hard; she was strong, and I was pushed back away from her and fell heavily on the bed, my head bumping against the wall.
She got up quickly and came to me and put her hand at the back of my head, stroking it.
Oh…I’m sorry…I…” she mumbled.
My head surely hurt. But at that moment I was not concentrating on where my head hurt. I was concentrating on the view before my eyes.
Her extraordinary boobs. Her old blouse was having a ridiculously low neckline, either because it was stitched that way, or because it was torn somewhere. The top portions of her huge boobs were ballooning out of the neckline, the cleavage looking like it could swallow an elephant. The blouse clung to her as if it was made of elastic, transparent elastic. I looked at her nipples. Altogether, it was a beautiful view.
She kept on stroking my head and talking in a concerned voice. Suddenly she saw were I was looking. She quickly covered herself with her sari.
“Are you hurt?” She asked me.
“No.”
She looked at me with tearful eyes for a second or two. Then she moved and sat down at the edge of the bed, with her back to me. She wiped her eyes with her sari.
I slowly shifted my position and sat down behind her.
“Sar…” she began, “I never thought you would…”
“Amma,”
I said gently, “I am sorry…but…”
She turned her head and looked at me. Her cheeks were tear-stained and they glistened.
“I thought you are a good man,” she said.
I looked away. Then I put a trembling hand on her shoulder.
“I…I just cannot control myself,” I whispered, my voice shaking. I must have sounded very desperate, for she stiffened. She stiffened not because I touched her, but because of the desperation in my voice. But she did not say anything.
“Please…” I whispered, “let me…just for today…let me touch you…”
“Sar…!”
Please…just once…please. I just want to hug you, that’s all.”
She shut her eyes tight.
I slowly encircled my arms around her. She started to stand up. I did not let her.
“Oh, please…just let me hug you for a while…please…”
But…Sar. This is not right.”
I don’t care.”
“I am Shiju’s amma…you are..”
“Please…”
“If… if someone found out… it would be…”
“Nobody in this world will know.”
I tightened my grip on her body and she sat stiffly, but still.
“Oh…god…” she said to herself.
I moved closer to her and hugged her properly. Her body was still stiff.
“Nobody will know,” I whispered to her again and again. At long last, she seemed to relax.
I moved yet closer to her and whispered into her ear, “Shall we lie down?”
It was as if she had heard a gunshot. She immediately tried to stand up, struggling to free herself from my grip. But I held her down.
“Please,” I said, “I just want hug you for a while…please…”
Without waiting to see whether she had acquiesced to my proposal or not, I removed my arms from around her and laid down on the bed, resting my head gently on the pillow.
She remained seated like that for a long time. Then I touched her arm.
Sar,” she said, looking straight at me, “this is a sin.”
“I dont’ care.”
I held her Hand and pulled her.
“Just for today,” I told her, “forget that this is a sin. Just for today.”
I pulled her again. With a jerk she withdrew her hand and, covering her face with her sari, burst into tears, her whole body rocking. She cried for a long time.
I touched her shoulder.
“Please,” I said, “I just cannot control myself any longer. Please…”
She wiped her tears.
“If somebody found out I won’t be able to live,” she told me.
“Nobody will find out…”
She slowly turned her torso around, lifted up her leg and laid down beside me. She avoided my gaze. I noticed that there was a timid expression on her face. I put an arm around her and drew her body closer to me, pressing her heavy tits against my bosom. I whispered into her ear, “Don’t be afraid. Nobody in this world will know about what happened in this room.”
I shifted and moved closer to her. She pressed her chin against my shoulder so that she would not have to look me in the eye, and lay still. Her body did not relax. I started running my palm gently all over here back, wetting my palm with her sweat. After some time, she slackened the hold on herself and began to relax. She did not hold me. She kept her hand between our bodies, as if in defense.
Slowly I moved my hand down, to her amazing ass.
And I whispered into her ear, “I want to see your chandi…”
She visibly stiffened.
“…your bare chandi.”
She shook her head. But she did not try to get up. She dug her chin on my shoulder with such force that it hurt.
“Please…” I begged.
I sat up.
“Lie facing down,” I told her.
“Sar…venda…”
“Just once…just once…”
I gripped her shoulder and slowly made her turn over and lie face-down. She clutched the pillow. I caught hold of her sari at her feet and started to lift it up. She did not object, but when the sari reached up to her knees, she brought her arm up and held my hand.
“Venda, Sar…someone will come…”
“The door is shut and bolted. Don’t be afraid”
I jerked away her hand. Her sari continued its journey up. When it reached her thighs she very reluctantly raised her pelvis, so that I was able to lift her sari all the way up to her waist.
Finally, her bare, really bare, really, really bare ass. Her chandi.
Large and round. Bubble butts.
She was not wearing any underwear, just as I had presumed all along. She turned her face away from me and crossed her thighs slightly, as if she suddenly was having the urge to urinate.
The sight of her bare ass had left me completely speechless. For a moment I just sat there and looked at the large twin mounds in total wonder. Then I slowly touched her ass with my fingers. An electric current seemed to have passed through her body. She stiffened her legs, as if she was tickled.
“Aiyo, Sar…!” she breathed and caught hold of my hand. I jerked her hand off and started running my fingers all over her ass. She pressed her face against the pillow and laid still.I placed the flat of my palm on one of the globes and squeezed it gently. It was soft and rubbery. Its skin was smooth like that of a baby. I pinched her other cheek. A tight pinch, making her wince and suck in air noisily through clenched teeth. I drew closer to her. I placed the flat of my palms on her magnificent ass and started giving her a gentle massage, running my palms in wide circles. I brought my hands to her thighs also, but mainly I kept my hands on those smooth globes. She kept still, and even seemed to relax a little.
I moved and, putting my knees on both sides of her, I sat on her legs. Then I continued to stroke her really enormous ass. I was seeing a woman’s ass bare, and that too, at such proximity, for the very first time. Till now, I had only fantasized about doing this kind of thing. Now I was Actually doing it.
I gently spread the cheeks of her ass and looked at her asshole. I touched her asshole with the tip of a finger, making her stiffen her leg muscles again. Now I started to dig the finger into her asshole. An ‘Aiyo’ escaped her lips. But she laid still. The finger would not go in, because her hole was dry. I removed my finger and spat on her asshole. With the tip of the finger I spread the spit evenly on all sides of the hole. And then I inserted the finger again. This time there was only little resistance; my finger went in slowly, the inner sides of her ass-cheeks cleaving in a little as my finger entered her. Inside, her asshole was warm. I bent down to have a close look at how my finger was stuck in her asshole. Now, slowly, I started moving my hand up and down and watched my finger move in and out of her asshole.
“Aiyo, Sar…what are you doing?” she said, her voice a little muffled because of the pillow.
I simply could not believe what I was doing. Was it a dream? I wanted to pinch myself and see. I watched the single finger fuck her ass for a while. Then, I added one more finger to it so that now two fingers were sliding in and out of her asshole
“Sar…”
I planted my elbow on the bed and, resting my chin on my hand, I sat in a comfortable position and watched my fingers appear and disappear. I noticed how, when I poked my fingers, how the inside of her ass-cheeks turned a little inwards and how they parted slightly when I lifted my hand. In and out, in and out. She laid still.
After some time, when I increased the speed of the ups and downs a little, she said, “Sar, you are hurting me…”
Perhaps she needed some more lubrication in her asshole. I pulled my fingers out (they came out with a muffled plop!). I reached for my traveling-bag under the bed. I undid the zipper of its side-pocket and brought out a small bottle of coconut oil. She was watching me through the corner of her eye. I unfastened the cap of the bottle and poured the oil between the lovely mounds of her buttocks.
Some oil flowed down to her back and some down to her cunt. But most of it stayed there, making a pool over her asshole. I closed the bottle and placed it on the bed. Then, once again settling down comfortable on her fleshy legs, I parted the big cheeks of her ass. The level of the oil immediately dipped, all of it descending into her warm asshole. Now when I inserted my finger, it went in like a knife through butter. Smooth and easy. I once again started the up and down movements of my hand, my fingers very easily moving in and out of her asshole. There was no resistance anywhere, whatsoever. The oil had done a good job. I resumed my comfortable position, with my chin resting on my free hand, and watched the fun. Up and down, up an down.
“Is it okay now?” I asked her. She made no reply.
Gradually, I increased the pace at which my hand was rising and falling. She kept silent. Probably, my fingers were not hurting her any more. Up and down, up and down went my fingers.
Now, off and on, the oil in her asshole was making squelching noises as I moved my hand.
“Are you all right?” I asked her. “Tell me if it hurts.”
She did not respond.
Enough of finger-fucking, I thought. Now I wanted my boy to have a taste of her warm asshole. I withdrew my fingers. I raised myself on my knees and whisked off my lungi. I pulled down my underwear and took out my dick. I must mention here that I am one of those men who are born lucky. I had a cock which measured nine inches, when fully erect.
She had not seen what I had just done, for she was keeping her face pressed against the pillow.
I picked up the bottle and undid the lid. I poured oil all over her bountiful ass.
I started giving her ass a good and proper massage, running my palms throughout its Length and breath. It was really a beautiful piece of ass.
Then I planted an arm to her side and, grabbing my cock, brought its tip in contact with her asshole. She now realized what I was going to do.
“Aiyo…sar… what are you doing?” She said.
I did not say anything. I positioned the fat head of my cock on her warm hole and, twisting my wrist, started poking it in.
She tried to get up, but I was all over her.
“Sar…idu venda. Don’t do this…” she begged.
I pushed with my pelvis and gently my hard dick started its journey down.
“Aiyo…”
It went down, down, down. Now I did not have to hold and guide it with my hand. It had found room and it was just going down. I kept on pressing with pelvis and did not stop until I was inside her to the hilt.
It was probably the first time she was having a cock in her asshole.
“Does it hurt?” I asked, planting my hands on either sides of her fat upper arm. I was ready to fuck her asshole.
“Yes,” she replied, wincing.
“It’s all right. You will get used to it after a while.”
I got ready to fuck her.
Suddenly there was a knock at the door.
We looked at each other.
“Who?” I asked.
“It’s me, sar,” came the receptionists reply.
“I’m coming.”
I gently pulled out my cock and put on my lungi. She sat up and hurriedly adjusted her sari. She climbed down from the bed, went to the window and stood there. I got up and opened the door. It was the receptionist. He smiled at me and held out two packets. “Sar, your supper.”
“So soon?”
“It is seven o’clock, sar. Why have you not switched on the light? Were you sleeping?”
“Yes.”
He went away. I looked around. Yes, we were so engrossed in what we were doing that it had completely escaped us that it was getting dark. I put on the light and looked at her. She quickly turned around and stood with her back to me. She did not want to face me in the light of the bulb. I kept looking at her and once again marveled at the hour-glass figure of her body.
I looked at my watch. Time had passed so quickly. It was really seven.
I shut and bolted the door. I put out the light once again. I waited as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. There was not much darkness, actually, because there was a street-lamp outside the window and a lot of its light was easily coming into the room through the dusty glass-panes of the window.
I bent down and placed the food packets under the cot.
Then I lunged towards her. She sensed me coming and her body stiffened. I put my hands under her armpits and grabbed her huge tits. She did not say anything. She tried to brush my hands off. I started squeezing her tits, those wonderful, balloon-like, huge tits. She stood still. The room was getting hot, with both of us sweating profusely. The ceiling-fan whirring over our heads was throwing down hot air. I played with her tits for about five minutes and she stood still all the time. Then I moved my hands down to her bare belly. It was wet and slippery, due to the heavy perspiration. Her belly was large and smooth, very sensual to look at. By now I was having a terrific hard on, and I was pressing it against the crack of her huge ass.
Now I kneeled down behind her and placed my palms on her buttocks. I dug my nose upon the crack of her ass and inhaled the smell of her there. Next I caught hold of the edge of her sari at her feet and started pulling it up.
She quickly caught hold of my hands and whispered, “Sar, venda…madi. Enough.”
“Let me have a look again,” I told her and lifted her sari up to her waist, exposing her magnificent ass once again.
“Aiyo! Sar…” she whispered. I gently asked her to catch hold of the edge of her sari. She reluctantly obeyed. I caught hold of her waist and slowly turned her body around, so that her ass Now faced the window. I wanted some light to fall on those oversized, but shapely butts.
Wow! What works of art they were! They shone with the light falling on them. The oil was giving them a finished, polished look. Looking at that ass nobody would believe that it belonged to a forty year old.
I stepped back a little and stood looking at them for a long, long time. She did not say or do anything other what I had told her to do, that is, hold on to the edge of her sari. She stood silently, with her head bowed, the light coming in through the window making a wonderful shadow and light effect with her ass, especially because of the oil I had so labouriously applied on them.
I just had to slap that ass.
I stepped forward and slapped her, a loud, painful slap on her right cheek.
“Aiyo!” she cried out. But she stood still. She had no idea that I was going to slap her again. And again. And again. I slapped those bubble like cheeks by turn. First right, then left. Slap, slap.
“Sar, somebody will hear!” she said after some time, with some panic in her voice.
Nobody will hear,” I told her. “The walls are thick and this fan is making so much noise. Nobody will hear. Don’t worry, nobody will know.”
I moved and stood at her side and, placing my left hand on her shoulder for support, I started slapping her on the ass quite noisily. I loosened my wrist muscles, so that the slaps fell like whip cracks. Crack, crack. She said in between to stop it, but I paid no heed. Her ass must have turned red; I couldn’t see properly, for there was not enough light.
Crack, crack.
A few minutes later, I stopped and caressed her ass with my palm. The skin of her ass was like that of babies. So soft.
Then I started slapping her again.
“Aiyo, Sar, madi! Enough!” She whispered to me.
I said nothing. I just went on slapping her.
I continued to warm her wonderful ass in this manner for another five minutes.
Finally, only due to sheer fatigue, I stopped.
I kneeled down behind her and, grasping her by the hips, started planting kisses all over the wide expanse of her lovely, oily ass. I kissed noisily.
With my palms I cupped her great ass cheeks and parted them gently. Then I put my tongue out and slowly started licking her asshole. It smelled and tasted of coconut oil.
“Aiyo, Sar…what are you doing…?” she whispered. “Oh…this is…”
I paid no heed to her and went on licking. At the same time, I took my hand to her front and started stroking the hair on her pussy with my fingers. She had a lot of hair on her pussy.
“Sar…venda…”
She pushed my hand away from her cunt. I slapped her ass with my free hand, as if to reprimand her.
There was one again a knock at the door and a voice, that of the receptionist, was calling out: “Mr.Menon, you have a telephone call from someone called Shiju.”
I cursed under my breath.
I got up and Padma quickly lowered her sari and smoothened its folds. I put on the light and adjusted my lungi. Then I opened the door.
“Okay, we are coming,” I told the receptionist. He went away.
I looked at Shiju’s amma. “You should also come down,” I said to her. “It is Shiiu.”
She adjusted her sari some more and both of us got out of the room. I closed the door. In the adjoining room someone was playing an old Tamil song in a cassette-player. We climbed down the staircase and reached the reception counter.
I picked up the phone.
“Hello.”
“Sar, it is me, Shiju.”
“Hello, Shiju. We got stuck here.”
“I know. How is Amma?”
“She is fine. Here, talk to her.”
I did not want to talk to that boy. I quickly gave the phone to Padma.
“Hello.”
“Hello, Amma…”
I let The mother and son have their talk in private and walked up to the entrance of the lodge. The receptionist came up to me from behind and handed me a small packet.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Sar, you said about the bad smell coming into your room. This is a bunch of jasmine flowers. Just scatter it on the floor and the bad smell will go.”
“Thank you. How much for the flowers?”
“It is free. We offer it to all who visit our lodge.”
I understood.
The conversation between Shiju and his mother was not a long one. It ended in less than two minutes. After she had put down the phone, we started climbing up the staircase. It was eight o’clock now.
As we reached our room, something on the door caught my attention. ‘Room No.69’.
I unlocked the door and we stepped into the room. I shut the door.
“You want to eat supper now?” I asked her.
She did not reply immediately. “As sar wishes…” she said slowly.
“Are you hungry?”
She shook her head.
“Good. Then let us have supper at nine. I usually have supper late.”
I looked at her. She avoided my eyes. She gazed at the floor with a blank expression on her face. I put out the light. I removed my shirt. And then, my lungi. And then, my underwear. I stood stark naked in front of her.
Even in the semi-darkness, I saw her cheeks turn red. She gently turned around and stood with her back to me.
“Come and lie down on the bed,” I said to her. It was more of a command than a request. She sensed it in my voice, but she stood her ground and did not move from her position. She was standing between me and the window, so her figure appeared more like a silhouette to me. As I watched her I saw that her shoulders were gently shaking.
I went up to her. She was crying.
What happened?” I asked.
“Sar, I’m a poor village woman,” she said, wiping her tears with her sari, “I don’t know anything about this world.
Please don’t harm me…”
I touched her shoulders.
“I already promised you that,” I said. “Now come and lie on the bed.”
“No,” she cried and tried to jerk my hands off her shoulders. She burst into a fresh torrent of tears and once again covered her face with her sari.
I waited for her crying to subside a little. Then I went close to her and whispered into her ear, “If you don’t say as I tell you I am going to slap you on the face.’
She froze and looked at me, her eyes filled with fear.
“Come…” I said and made her slowly walk towards the bed, pushing her by her shoulders. She looked at me and shook her head.
“Do as I tell you,” I said.
Then she slowly climbed upon the bed and laid down, placing her head on the pillow.
I moved and stood at the end of the bed, the end where her head was resting; the other end was touching the wall, the wall on which I had bumped my head. It still ached slightly.
She looked at me. From where she lay, I must have seemed to her like a menacing giant. A menacing giant with a big, erect cock. I waved my cock gently over her forehead, gazing at her supine figure. I bent down and, with a jerk of my hand, I tossed her sari to the side, uncovering her lovely bosom. Quite impulsively, she crossed her forearms over her towering boobs. Now I carefully climbed upon the bed and stood over her, planting my knees on both sides of her head. She had no idea what I was going to do. I bent down and, placing one hand on the bed for support, with the other hand I slowly guided my fully erect cock into the deep cleavage of her tits. She did not say anything. I was expecting an ‘Aiyo’ from her, but I guess by now she had realised that resistance was totally futile. My cock went in easily Because her boobs were so soft and heavy perspiration had made her skin somewhat slippery. And, as I already mentioned, the neckline of her blouse was absurdly low and it was providing enough room for an elephant to pass through her cleavage. Moreover, when I had put my cock into her asshole it had been almost like dipping it into a pool of oil. Now I planted both my hands on her sides and started moving my pelvis up and down, up and down. She remained silent and still. Once or twice, when I lowered my pelvis a little, my balls would bump against her chin. I kept on moving my pelvis slowly and steadily, fucking her sexy cleavage.
After some time I stopped. I withdrew my cock and stood up. She looked at me questioningly.
“I’m feeling hungry,” I told her.
And it was true. All evening I had been straining my body, that too without having the evening tea and snacks, something to which I was quite used to. And now I was famished.
She sat up and climbed down the cot. I put on my lungi and decided to go without my underwear.
She put on the light and took out the supper packet from under the bed. She looked at the packet which the receptionist had given me when we were downstairs.
“What is this?” She asked me.
“i’ll show you later,” I told her.
She opened the supper packet and quickly arranged the food. We sat down to eat.
We avoided looking at each other as we ate. I gulped down the food hurriedly, more because of the hunger than of the anticipation of the things to come after supper. Once I coughed loudly and she quickly handed me a glass of water.
“Eat slowly,” she told me.
After we had finished eating, she went to the toilet.
I quickly opened the packet the receptionist had given me and scattered all the jasmine flowers over the bed in an even manner. Then I put out the light and waited for her.
The moment she opened the door she caught the easily discernable fragrance of the jasmine flowers. She stopped on her tracks and looked around. Since she was coming from the well-lighted corridor, it took her some time, in the semi-darkness of the room, to actually see the flowers scattered upon the bed. She slowly stepped into the room and I shut the door behind her. I slid the bolt into place, hopefully, for the last time that night.
She looked at the flowers on the bed and then at me, in wonder.
Perhaps she wanted to ask me from where I had got the flowers. But she could not bring herself to ask; she was quick to see the bold intentions with which I had scattered the flowers on the bed. So she did not ask anything. She wiped her face with her towel. The towel was wet and she was looking all around to find a place to hang it. Finally, she hung it on one of the window-bars.
Then she turned around and looked at me.
I went up to her and, putting my arms around her thighs, I lifted her up in the air. She was heavy, but I managed to lift her up. She was taken completely by surprise and cried out in fear, believing that she was going to fall. She frantically clutched at my shoulders.
“Sar!…what are you doing?” she exclaimed.
“I am not going let you sleep tonight,” I gasped. God! She was heavy! As I struggled to maintain my center of gravity, her body tilted towards all directions.
“Put me down…please,” she said.
I slowly put her down. She looked at me.
I grabbed her shoulders and, gently pinning her against the wall, I started kissing her all over her face. I pressed my palms against her ears and kissed her on the lips. I forced open her mouth with my tongue and let my tongue play with hers. She was not resisting me now, like she was doing in the afternoon. Perhaps, she knew that resisting me was now utterly futile. So she was silently allowing me to do whatever I wanted to do with her. I gathered her tongue between my lips And sucked at it for a long time. At the same time, I let my fingers explore the warm area between her thighs. That area was wet. I could feel the wetness there through her sari. Probably, she had washed her pussy. She tried to brush my hand away for sometime. Then, seeing that I was quite persistent, she let me have my way.
I looked at her face in the light coming in through the window. She was a beautiful woman. Nice doe-like eyes, smooth, round cheeks, full lips and a slender chin.
“You are very beautiful,” I told her and once again started showering kisses all over her face.
I pushed her sari off her shoulder. She covered her marvelous bosom with her arms. I slowly lowered her arms and looked at her bulky tits. Her blouse was wet. She had washed her tits too. I put my nose into her cleavage and drew in a deep breath.
Then I said to her, “Let us lie down.”
She did not say anything. I held her hand and made her climb upon the bed.
I laid down with my head resting on the pillow. I spread my legs and made her sit between them.
“Remove my lungi,” I said to her.
She looked at me, as if she had failed to understand what I said. I repeated my order.
She was suddenly reluctant. She sat there with her eyes downcast.
“If you start crying again I am going slap your face,” I said to her.
She started at that. Slowly she began to pull at my lungi. I lifted up my pelvis and she gently tore it off me.
“Now the underwear,” I told her.
She did not move at first. Then she slowly put her fingers under the elastic belt of my underwear and, without looking at me or my cock, she started pulling it down. When it reached my thighs and my cock was fully exposed, I lifted up my legs and she removed my underwear completely. I was now lying completely naked before her. I looked at my cock. It was not fully erect yet.
“Hold my cock,” I said to her.
She made no move for a few seconds. Then, glancing at me just once, her eyes filled with embarrassment and shame, she slowly took my member in her hand. The very next moment it began to get erect.
“Stroke it,” I said.
She started stroking it, very clumsily, for she was doing it half-heartedly. I lay back and watched her what she was doing. As she stroked, the cock grew in size and became hard and thick. A nine-inch stick in her hand.
She held it using all the fingers and thumb of her right hand and when she stroked it she moved her hand up and down the length of it. Her head was turned sideways and she was looking at the wall.
After some time, I told her, “Apply some oil on my cock.”
The bottle of coconut oil that I had used in the afternoon was still lying on the bed. She took it, undid the cap and poured oil into her palm. She applied this oil over my shaft. She put the bottle back and returned to my cock. She rubbed her palms together and started giving my cock a slow massage with both her hands. She rubbed oil on my balls too and also on my thighs. After that, she once again held it securely in her right hand and started rubbing it up and down, up and down, this time with amazing expertise. I watched her for some time. Now she was occasionally glancing at my boy. And why not? He was nine inch tall.
“Take off your blouse,” I said to her.
She looked at me. Ever since she had started her work on my cock, once or twice, her sari had slid off her shoulder, exposing her rotund boobs packed tightly in her white blouse. And she had again and again brought it back to its position, covering herself properly. But, while she was massaging my cock, and her pallu went down, she did not bother to lift it up. She pretended not to have seen it fall. And her deep, deep cleavage remained exposed and she let me feast my eyes on them as she stroked my cock.
She left my penis and started undoing the hooks of her blouse. One, two, Three… the hooks came undone. As she undid the last hook she glanced at me. For a while she held the flaps of her blouse together, supporting her enormous tits with the fleshy parts of her palms. Then she parted the flaps, and her heavy tits swung down free. God! They were big! And heavy. And because of their weight, and her age, too, they sagged down to her belly. Yet, wherever they were, they were retaining their rotundity and firmness. She peeled her blouse off her body and dropped it on the bed along with my lungi and underwear. Now she returned to my cock, without my telling her. She drew closer to me, positioning my cock between her wonderful boobs and started stroking it once again.
Now I had the amazing capacity of delaying my ejaculation for any length of time. When I started masturbating I would carry on doing it for more than an hour. I think I had that will power.
I lay back and watched her as she sat between my legs with her torso bare, stroking my lad, from time to time letting it brush against her boobs, and thought that I could, if I wanted to, make her stroke my cock like that all night. Silence prevailed in the tiny room, save the old, rickety fan whirring away above us. The room was hot. But I was naked. And the flowers on which I was lying were cold and provided some relief. In the adjoining room, the radio was once again playing. I do not know what the time was, and I did not care. I watched her had move up and down, steadily, labouriously. There was sweat on them, on her wrist. I looked at her face. She was perspiring heavily, because when she moved her hand, her entire body was rocking.
I touched her hand.
“Stop,” I said gently. “Now do this same thing with your cunt.”
She looked at me and shook her head.
I told her, “I don’t care if you become pregnant. I want you to do it now.”
She was silent. But by the strange expression on her face I understood that there was a possibility that she herself wanted to do it now.
She slowly stood upon the bed and removed her sari.
And her petticoat.
She glanced at me as she stood naked before me. Stark naked.
I remembered meeting her at the Palakkad railway station yesterday. The good-natured smile she had smiled. She is Shiju’s mother, I told myself. So what, that only heightened her sensuality! She was very shy as she sat down. She held my cock and I think she was wondering how she was going to do what I had asked her to do. She slowly stood up on her knees and came forward. I put my feet together, giving her room on my either sides to place her knees. She placed a hand on my shoulder for support and with the other hand she started to guide my member up her cunt. When my penis touched her hairy cunt I realized that she was wet and dripping. Ready to be fucked.
After she managed to insert the fat head of my cock into her cunt opening, she slowly sat down on me and I felt my shaft enter her all the way up. She looked at me, a satisfied expression on her face.
Now she held me by the shoulders and started bobbing up and down, making the bed creak.
Ah! This was my first experience and it felt like heaven.
Where did you learn to do that?” I asked her, barely able to mouth my words, because the pleasure she was giving me was immense.
She did not answer me. She kept on moving. I looked at her heavy boobs. They were rising and falling gently with the movements of her body. I brought my hands up and played with them. I pinched the nipples and, for the first time, heard her moan. I kneaded her lovely boobs with my palms. She continued her up and down movements.
I lay back and watched her move. Her eyes were shut and her face was turned heavenwards. Her movements were slow but steady.
Suddenly there was that ominous knocking on the door. But she Did not stop moving. She was frantically biting her lips.
The knocking came again, and a voice, that of Shiju’s, called, “Sar! It is me, Shiju.”
I am sure that she heard it too. But she did not stop moving.
“Sar, the boss is also here,” Shiju said from outside. “We came in his car to take you. The bandh is likely to be extended for another twenty-four hours.”
I whispered her to stop moving. But she paid no heed. She moaned loudly and continued her up and down movements, my nine-inch shaft appearing and disappearing into her wet, wet cunt.
“Sar! Amma!”
She did not stop moving. That woman.
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