Manya: Forbidden Lust free porn video

While peeing, she let out a shudder of relief as some of the accumulated horniness found alternate release. But only some of it. Stepping out and in the same scant attire she moved to the main door to collect the morning milk. Opening the door, she bent to pick up the milk and in the process her full breasts spilled out to form a delectable cleavage. From the corner of her eye she saw the milkman’s bicycle parked in the compound and realized that he was still around and was perhaps waiting for her daily appearance. A full minute was spent in gathering the milk during which her creamy breasts spilled nearly 80 percent out of her thin, low cut blouse. Giving this morning show was now a habit, both for her and the milkman, a strapping 25 year old guy. She got her daily starting charge from this flash and even when someone other than the usual milkman delivered the milk, they learnt to stay until Manya gathered her milk.

Turning her back to the milkman, she started closing the door, giving him a lingering view of her ample, meaty ass and a rousing rear view of her trunk, especially since the petticoat came down to well below her hips and settled almost at the beginning of her ass crack. Just before finally losing the door, she turned again towards the outside and offered another flash of her huge midriff, with its flaring curvature at the waist and the juicy, deep, inviting navel. This exercise was her morning tonic and a day was insipid without it.

The entire five feet seven inches of her full bodied, well stacked, lush form swayed with a heady grace as she made her way to the kitchen. Manya paused for a moment to peep into the room of her two sons, Deen aged 14 and Binu aged 12. Deen was curled up and content, hands between his thighs and lost in a dreamy world, while Binu was sleeping on his back, his right hand placed idly around his crotch. What caught her eye was, however the tenting in his shorts, sticking imposingly out at the ceiling. She smiled indulgently like a mother would, but a deep moistening crept up her pussy, which was already aroused by the morning show for the milkman. Turning away, she lazed into the kitchen to prepare the morning coffee and breakfast. Within an hour all hell would break loose as three males would rush through their morning routine, gulp their food and flee the house, leaving her all alone. The thought made her feel a bit empty but also filled her with an enterprise and abandonment that came from the knowledge that she would be all by herself with her voluptuous, sensuous body.

Deen was always the first one to wake up. Nearly six feet tall, he was a gentle giant, loose limbed and with the body language of a good and lovable kid. Manya continued to remain in her attire even before her kids and it had become normal for them to watch their skimpily clad Mom go about her chores every morning in that state of undress. She had been doing it now for the past 4 years out of sheer convenience and it never struck her that their bursting hormones would one day take cognizance of her ample charms, especially her well rounded buttocks, her fully exposed juicy waist and the generous cleavage.

“Good morning Mom”, called out Deen, as he entered the kitchen. Looking up, Manya returned his greeting, smiling into his soulful, loving and almost puppy like eyes. Deen could see right down her partly unbuttoned blouse and trace the full curves of both her melon like breasts with the entire glory of their semi pointed nipples.

His dick jerked to attention.

“Get ready dear. Today’s your special breakfast item. Manya moved towards the refrigerator, rubbing her full hips against his. Deen could feel the heat, softness and meat of his Mom’s hips as she went past him. He stifled a gasp as her dainty fingers inadvertently grazed his crotch. He wore no underwear beneath his shorts and he was startled by the near grasp of his throbbing young manhood by his very own biological mother. It stunned him and also confused him, like it did everyday. Manya however behaved very normally, adding to his dilemma. His first stirrings of manhood had been courtesy his beautiful Mom. His first dick caressing had taken place while he had seen her changing. His first major jerk off had been over her photograph of her carrying him as a three year old. He loved concentrating on his three year old hand clutching at Manya’s bosom in the picture. And when he came, he made sure that some drops always landed on the picture, if possible on Manya’s beautiful face.

But Deen was a shy kid. He never made his arousal obvious and strove to camouflage it. Manya, on her part, noticed her elder son’s disturbance but did nothing in terms of either her dressing or body language to divert him. If she was built sexy and left with an eternally horny body due to her husband’s slackness in bed, then she couldn’t help it. No force on earth can hide a woman in heat, especially a woman blessed with the rich contours and fleshy warmth of Manya. She had a body that craved loving. She had luscious breasts that ached to be caressed and fondled. She had a juicy waist that desired a man’s warm touch. She had a massive, protruding, more than proportionate ass that could well be her best asset. It was high, firm, wide and with a curvature that sent viewers’ passions soaring. There was not one of her husband’s friends that didn’t want to spank her voluptuous ass or plunge into her juicy pussy. She didn’t care about their advances and over time she learnt to live with them. Even those long alcoholic parties where men would indulge in subtle gropes and almost leering comments while her husband would be sizzled left her quite in control. Infact she was secretly thrilled that such a wide variety of men of all age groups lusted after her juicy body.

The moment Deen left for the bathroom, her younger son Binu bounded into the kitchen, cheery and bright.

“Hi Mom”, he greeted her with a big hug and kiss on the cheek. Binu was always the more demonstrative and physical of the two kids. His hug lingered a little longer than necessary but Manya made no move to free herself. Binu ended his hug with another kiss on his mother’s cheek, this time rather close to the corner of her mouth. Manya felt his young, 12 year old erection thrusting against her asscheeks. She shivered inwardly and felt her pussy moisten again. Binu’s acts awakened her dormant lust. Though twelve years old, his actions were obviously sex driven. He used every opportunity to grab her, rub his dick against her huge rump and let his hands roam all over his juicy mother’s expansive waist. His hands groped the bottom of her braless blouse and made enough contact with her mounds to make her squeal. It was easy for Manya to dismiss her little son’s acts as childlike. Only a part of her was convinced but she allowed that feeling to remain so that she was spared of any dialogue with her conscience. Unlike his elder brother, Binu knew his needs and made his moves very obvious, with no scope for any communication gap. Manya loved it. It made her feel very wanted and desirable. Binu on the other hand was sure that he was only expressing his extreme love for his mother.

After packing Binu into the bath, Manya decided to wake up her husband. For a daily inexplicable reason, she draped a saree over her scantily covered body and went into the bedroom. She liked to be close to fully dressed whenever her husband was around.

Chapter 2

Manya walked towards her sleeping hubby and studied his form as she neared him. He was an inch shorter than her five feet seven inches, slender in arm and chest but with a pot belly that grew out of endless hours of drinking, both at home and outside. He snored the moment his head hit the pillow everyday and kept snoring right until he was woken up. Manya remembered their early days of marriage when she used to wake him up by snuggling up to him and nibbling his ears lightly while her fingers danced around his flaccid manhood. He would stir in those days and wait until she would stroke him to semi erection. Then suddenly, without warning he would grab her by the waist and turn her around to make her lie belly up on the bed. Using his left hand to drag her saree above her smooth, hot thighs, he would guide his half ready dick into her already steaming pussy. A few gallant strokes would be attempted, following which Manya had to lead his tool into her eager love nest whenever it slipped out. About 60 seconds of valiant lovemaking would ensue after which he would leak out a measly amount of sperm into her womb, which would just about suffice to moisten her just watering twat. With an irritated grunt he would simply roll off her and rush into the bathroom without even looking back. If he did, then he would have seen the writhing, frustrated body of his lovely wife, legs spread, breathing heavily and thighs twitching in rising intensity.

The sight of a writhing semi nude Manya, spread out lewdly on the bed, fingering herself to an orgasm would have been the ultimate erotic sight for any peeping tom but for the sexy wife herself it was a daily torture. And she was forced to go through this torture on a daily basis, at times with frenzied regularity and with the greatest ever regularity in the last few months.

In the last few years here had been hardly any inspired bouts of love making, which for her lusty body was a deprivation surpassing all else. If Manya had to ever choose between her daily bread and a daily fuck, she would go straight for the latter. Today, grimacing in resignation, she shook her husband Desh alive. With the usual morning grunt and without the slightest hint of a promising early erection, he hopped out of bed and strolled into the bathroom, not bothering to even wish his beautiful wife.

The moment her hubby closed the bathroom door, she heard Deen call out, “Mom, I need help to wash my hair”. Smiling to herself she moved towards her son’s bathroom. Along the way, she unwrapped her saree, dropped it on Deen’s bed and entered the bath. She didn’t want to wet the saree in the course of Deen’s bath. Deen was in his underwear and sitting on a stool when Manya moved across to him, her braless breasts swaying gently and her belly flesh rippling with each step. Deen’s eye got riveted onto his mother’s deep and big navel. As Manya bent and washed his hair with shampoo her navel and lower abdomen stared right into his face. It was a double feast for the budding youth as his eyes absorbed he juicy depth of her belly button and his nostrils inhaled the musky scent of her bush, which permeated through the petticoat. In less than three seconds his dick shot up in his undies, a sight which was not lost on Manya. “Wow”, she thought to herself, marveling at the contrasting reactions of her husband and son to the very same body. But being the mother, she pretended normalcy and continued to rub shampoo into his hair, increasing the intensity of her strokes. The rich lather forced Deen to close his eyes. Now he could only feel his gorgeous Mom around him. Her hands felt like they were cajoling him into greater arousal. Her big boobs would dip every now and then to press into his head warmly while her crotch would reach tantalizingly close to his face, with the aroma almost sending him into a lusty stupor. The he felt the water raining down from the shower onto his face and head. On opening his eyes he got a shock. He was not the only one wet. His mother’s sexy body was drenched all over the top half, her nipples poking right out of her wet blouse. The sight was astoundingly erotic with those creamy mounds jiggling right in front of his face. Deen thought he would shoot out his spunk without even a touch. At the same time he was transfixed and puzzled by the total nonchalance with which Manya continued to wash and towel off her son’s aroused body. She seemed to be completely casual in her near total exposure to Deen, her very own son. With her full hips barely a few inches from his head, she turned around to turn off the shower, in the process presenting him with a mind boggling show of her huge ass, covered only by a wet petticoat. The garment made a huge inroad into her butt crevice and the whole show was straight out of one of those soft porn flicks which he enjoyed now and then with his pals. But he was better blessed than his friends because he had daily real life soft porn scenes to live out in his own house and with his very own loving mother. A wild thought germinated in his head which seemed to come from out of nowhere – “What if any of his friends were to see his Mom strutting around scantily”? The thought left him as soon as it came but the seeds were sown. Manya left the bathroom to check on her younger son Binu and Deen started to stroke his dick the moment his mother’s bodacious ass swayed out of sight. He needed the release.

Manya needed release too but all she got was more arousal in Binu’s room. Her younger son had just finished his bath and was about to start dressing when his half wet, barely dressed Mom walked in to enquire about him.

“It’s getting time for breakfast Binu”, she announced as she entered, but her statement broke into a squeal as she was smothered from behind by Binu. In a not unusual manner his hands completely encircled her full waist and caressed the folds at the sides with the index finger of his right hand straying into her navel to finger it in a rotating motion. The posture lasted one minute of squealing and 60 seconds of slow and steady pawing. Both Mom and son had got quite accustomed to this display of affection from Binu and only Manya suspected that the feeling was quite sexual even from her son’s side. But as always, he would stop just when her body began to betray her emotions. He would cease to caress her just when she wouldn’t want him to. Gathering herself, Manya was convinced that Binu acquired his genes and libido from her side of the family. But it was still too early to say, as she thought. Nevertheless, she was glad that someone found her desirable and someone wanted to feel her up the way she liked to. But her craving was not just for feeling. It was for fucking. Deep, hard and repeatedly, she yearned to be fucked well and if possible right out of her brains.

Feeling fully aroused from all the amorous attention she had been getting, Manya again wore the saree around her wet underclothes and went to spread the breakfast on the table. The dress felt burdensome and she found herself being slowed down by a silent droning between her thighs. Involuntarily again, her left hand reached for her crotch. Absent mindedly she continued playing with herself over the dress for at least 5 minutes before the sound of her men arriving for breakfast brought her to senses.

“You’ll catch a cold Mom in those wet clothes. Go change,” suggested Deen, concerned as ever.

“Yes I will, after you all leave”, sighed Manya as she served breakfast. She could feel Binu’s eyes repeatedly seeking her juicy navel and Deen’s eyes probing behind the wet blouse for the nipples that had teased him during bath. Again a shiver ran through her and she felt both delight and sorrow. Delight that her womanhood was getting its due appreciation and sorrow that her hubby was merely gulping his food down in total neglect.

Minutes after they all left, Manya rushed into the bedroom and threw herself on to the bed, tearing her clothes off her heated body on the way. She unstrung her petticoat and tore the blouse off her bursting breasts as her lust aroused body flopped onto the soft bed. Both hands covered her full breasts, the palms kneading roughly and the fingers pulling at the now sharp tips. Her legs thrashed about as she literally crushed her full boobs like a demons in heat. Her entire body felt like it was on fire and she thought she would explode if it was not extinguished. Both her hands dropped quickly to her pussy mound and she worked her fingers in and out of that rich and fleshy zone, causing her thighs to spread, close and spread in a mind boggling sequence of abandonment. She gave herself in totally to the demands of her lush, neglected body. Her wasted voluptuousness surged with renewed hope every time she subjected herself to this burst of self satisfaction. She mewled and moaned as her fingers delved and probed into her soaked pussy, striking a frenzied rhythm in tune with her wildly aroused brain. The passionate start rose to a crescendo where she heaved and thrust her full hips up and down on the bed, as her fingers stroked her horny body to a new height of ecstasy. She felt the tide rise deep within her loins and it only drove her fingers deeper and harder into that steaming twat working on it like there was no tomorrow. The tide reached its peak and let loose a bursting flood, washing her loins all over, making her fingers reach furious speeds until the collapse began, first in her loins, then in her fingers and finally in her golden, fleshy inner thighs. With receding passion, she slowly regained normal breathing, but continued to lie naked on the bed, hands on the lower abdomen, feet still apart in a lewd reminder of her just concluded dynamite act. She was wet with sweat and wet with her juices. The whole bed sheet was drenched and she silently decided that she would change it later in the day before Deen and Binu arrived from school.

Nearly half an hour after her marathon session she rose for a bath. The cool water felt comforting on her still hot body. She soaped herself generously, lingering long around her bush and pussy. She stroked, caressed and patted her mound indulgently until a flicker of arousal crept up her spine all over again. Sighing, she stepped out stark naked into her bedroom. She used a thin white towel to dry herself and it was almost as if she were caressing herself with her own hands. She dabbed the light towel all over her gorgeous body until it was wet. Then she took another towel to dry her long hair. She wrapped the towel around her hair after ten minutes of drying. Opening her wardrobe, she tried to decide on what to wear when her eyes fell on a light blue transparent saree and a sheer white blouse. She took both of them into her hands, without as much as a thought for a bra and petticoat. She hated the weight and pressure of undergarments. Whenever possible she simply discarded them. Manya loved to feel the fabric rub against her supple and sexy flesh, especially around her glorious hips and asscheeks. Not wearing a petticoat beneath a semi transparent saree gave a complete exposure of her lower treasures and fleshy thighs. But she didn’t care. She felt fully liberated whenever she dressed without underclothes and she had the whole day right up to her husband’s arrival to slip back into them anyway.

However it did not apply to her two sons. She was comfortable without undergarments in their presence and she guessed they were comfortable too. In any case there were no obvious signs of embarrassment on their faces whenever they saw their Mom walking around in see through sarees without a hint of underclothes. Right through they were quite accustomed to seeing her with just one single garment on her lush body, be it a petticoat and blouse or saree without petticoat. The full attire was for their father, a fact which they came to realize rather early. The idea made them feel good and cozy about their sexy mother. They loved her a lot more for the extra comfort level she seemed to share with them. It made them feel special – and horny too. And they kept their feelings to themselves – as yet.

Manya slipped sensuously into her sheer saree and blouse. It technically covered her whole body but revealed its fleshy, creamy glory to awesome effect. Tied well below her deep and exotic navel, the sheer garment simply clung to Manya’s ample hips and threatened to fall right off her juicy body if she even bent forward a little more than needed. The blouse, a sheer white one, worn braless as always was so tight and low cut that half her cleavage was on show right through the flimsy saree. The bottom of the blouse was almost tucked into the base of her full boobs, giving them life and bounce as she walked. From the base of her breasts to maybe an inch above her bush was a completely revealed territory of supercharged flesh. Manya’s window of seduction was her fleshy yet sexy midriff and the horny housewife was fully aware of it. It was huge, wide and bedecked with possibly the deepest and juiciest navel on earth. When she walked in this attire, her thighs and trimmed bush offered themselves to view in tantalizing peeks. Taking the rear view, the saree dipped right down to the tips of her asscrack, billowing out to flimsily drape itself around Manya’s meaty buttocks. The ass, asscheeks, asscrack, were all dangled juicily in front of any viewer who happened to run into this horny wife and mother of two. Putting it plainly, her whole body screamed for a fucking.

The beginnings of restlessness crept into her lush body and Manya launched into her customary mound caress. She would finger herself after bath for about a few minutes everyday before preparing lunch. Now, while she was in that dreamy spell, she heard the doorbell ring. She first looked out of the window and saw that it was the grocer, who came once every three days to deliver vegetables and fruits. Manya rose from the couch, hand still on her crotch and moved to open the door. She kept her hand on her mound in a partial caress and retained it all the way up to the door, reluctant to give up the warm moistness which had begun to engulf her loins and also form a small wet patch on her sheer saree.

Chapter 3

Left to herself, Manya would have preferred to indulge in prolonged self ravishment in her present mood. Her mind quickly accepted the intrusion but the signals to her horny body got delayed a bit, causing a certain inner discordance, especially between her thighs, where a tiny ooze had just about begun. Caressing herself, she half opened the door and peered out to ask if there was any fresh stuff. She kept just her head out of the door, her hand still playing with her pussy through the sheer folds of her saree. The grocer announced that many of her usual choice of vegetables were fresh and she may like to take a look and decide. Manya was still a wee bit reluctant and she looked at the grocer thoughtfully, fingers still playing with her pussy behind the door. With one final thrust, she withdrew her hand from where she loved to keep it the most and threw the door wide open. The grocer, a stocky man in his late thirties gaped in astonishment at her dress, or the lack of it and kept gaping until Manya coughed to draw his attention. The grocer’s mind worked at the speed of light, unable to fathom the delicious sight in front of him. He knew from his frequent visits that Manya was hot and horny. He had encountered many a horny housewife in all his house sales over the years. He could spot a hungry pussy when he saw one. Over the last one year he had seen Manya in various careless states of dressing but somehow she always seemed in control of things. It was more like she was teasing people rather than inviting them. He also realized that she couldn’t continue to be a prick tease indefinitely and his prick was bound to have its day. Her appearance told him that today could be the day. The way she was dressed, she needn’t have worn any clothes. The saree was fully transparent, showing him all of her. The fertile bush, those glorious thighs and the entire midriff, everything lay before him like a feast, with her belly button calling attention to his gaze. While she was fingering herself the top half of her saree had slipped aside, leaving her rich and deep navel fully exposed to his view. With the creamy flesh above and below it aching to be pawed and felt, the navel resembled a pussy in need, quivering and juicy.

Manya bent forward to examine some of the leafy vegetables and this made the top half of her saree drop, revealing her generous cleavage with a clear vision of her perked up nipples. She didn’t realize that her saree had dropped and continued with her genuine task of grocery picking from his basket. The grocer’s eyes popped right out their sockets and his cock threatened to tear out of the fabric it was stretching around his crotch. His strong hands felt a rush of blood as did every vein in his body. Manya was decidedly the hottest of his customers and he looked forward to visiting her house more to experience the surprises she held for him in the form of her dress code. But this day surpassed all that he had seen before. Breasts, nipples, navel, midriff, thighs, and bush – every ounce of her juiciest parts was starkly visible through her dream like garments. The Arabian dancers did wear transparent bottoms but at least they wore panties. Here a middle aged housewife was treating him to fleshy delights of the sort people only dreamt of.

The apparent involvement of Manya with the grocery basket and her ignorance of the state of her boobs suited the grocer and he let his hungry eyes travel all over her voluptuous frame, taking in the sexuality oozing out of every inch. His eyes rested for longer moments on her hips, the exposed portion of which was like a mass of charged up flesh, aching to be mauled, gripped and pounded. Only flesh in need is left for this kind of wanton display and his animal instincts gradually took over. He shifted closer to her, as if to help Manya load her bag with his stuff. He held the bag up for her while Manya filled it with a cluster of vegetables. She had to lift her arms up to do so and in the process, her upper saree dropped right off her shoulders, chest and waist to rest tantalizingly at her hips. It was then that Manya noticed how exposed she was all along to his gaze. Her face acquired a sudden blush but there was no way she could cover herself up since both her hands were occupied. She looked into the grocer’s eyes and observed the burning passion. His looks sent shivers up her spine and a warm flood of juices gushed forth from her loins to further moisten her already wet vulva.

This time the gush of juices was different. They flowed and flowed without a break. The control mechanisms which she normally applied broke down thoroughly as she mildly trembled before his strong gaze. The grocer extended his strong arms towards her exposed hips and dragged her closer. His manly touch did the trick. It was the touch of a man, strong and reassuring. It was also the grip of a testosterone rich male which sent her feminine defenses crashing down. When his other hand gripped her right hip to complete the act, she yielded, like he always knew she would. The manly grocer jerked the beautiful wife towards himself and marvelled at the way her magnificent breasts jiggled at his action. His hands on her meaty hips encountered raw heat and he realized that this juicy body was being wasted. He could hear a half sob as he strengthened his hold on her lower hips and turned her around. Her high rise buttocks came into hot contact with his dick and even through the sheer garment, their heat took him by surprise. If ever there was a hornier woman, then he hadn’t known her. Nor did he care to know.

With one single tug, the sari came right off her hot hips and fell in a heap at her feet. Manya was still in a lusty daze as she allowed him to anything he pleased. She moaned as he felt his hands caress her plump asscheeks and squealed lightly as he cupped her rump and kneaded it. The kneading continued and Manya got wetter and wetter. Not once did she even think of restraining him. Her tingling pussy was now dripping at the ministrations of this grocer. Her legs parted on their own accord and he reached down to carry his squeezing into her inner thighs and finally her seething, soaked pussy. That set off her accumulated lust trigger and she cried out in helpless craving and fell right down onto her knees.

In that posture she presented an awesome sight on all fours. Her face was glazed with lust and her ass quivered in wanton lust. She wriggled her hips and pressed backwards as if to hit his crotch. The grocer had already removed his trousers and brought out his steel hard dick, which was now throbbing with as much anticipation as the horny housewife’s pussy. He cast one glance at the crawling form of the beautiful woman before him. She looked so hot and needy. Like a bitch in heat. She needed a fucking and like hell, he was going to give her one.

In one single plunge he entered right into her nest, her wet cunt walls giving an over lubricated welcome. Manya shrieked in passion and cried out in lust. He began stroking into her slushy pussy with gradual motions. The lust crazed housewife screamed for harder strokes and driven by her wanton behavior, he thrust harder and faster. His huge dick, which she hadn’t even seen, made furious inroads into her tender but hot pussy, stretching it, pounding into it and sending the horny mother of two into new zones of passion. The pumping lasted five scalding minutes and the sheer novelty and passion of the situation overcame both of them. He reached his climax with a roar and she caught on, thrusting her plump ass back at him greedily. She looked and felt like bitch. On all fours, she was letting a grocer bang the hell out of her over sexed cunt. But he was doing it well and she knew of nothing but cock till he spurted his semen in several long spurts deep inside her womb and all over her back and ass. He came so much that his virility surprised the under utilized wife.

Like a true chauvinistic male he just released her hips with a grunt and quickly buttoned up his trousers before she could turn around. Her still convulsing body was recovering from the delicious onslaught and she looked up gradually towards his body. Her first glance went towards his crotch but was disappointed to see that he had already put his woman pleaser away. There she was, lying well fucked by a dick she didn’t even see.

“Ok Mrs. M. See you later”, said the grocer as he walked away with a whistle. Manya lay on the floor, still in a half crawling posture. She was still in heat and she still looked a bitch. Her ass felt well gripped and handled. Her pussy felt well pumped. Her mind was well relaxed. Her breasts however still ached for a caress and that ache got transferred again to her pussy. A mild heating began within her loins and this surprised Manya. What was the extent of her appetite, she wondered.

She rose slowly, with only her sweaty braless blouse on with the first two buttons undone as always. Her saree was in her hands and she tried to decide whether to put it on or go for a wash. Her thighs were sticky and some cum still settled wetly over her puffy pussy lips. The drying had not yet begun. She ran her fingers over her cunt lips and felt them. She scooped a bit of cum into her fingers and brought them to her nose. “Hmmmmm”, she purred at the aroma. Then suddenly the door bell rang. Surprised and alarmed at the untimely ring, she hastily began to assemble the saree over her ravaged hips. It was a relatively slower process since she did not have the benefit of a petticoat.

“Who’s this”? She called out.

“It’s me Mom” came her son Deen’s voice.

Partly relieved but still alarmed she draped her saree quickly around herself. Now she didn’t have to worry about perfection in attire since it was only Deen. Yet the fact that she had allowed the grocer to fuck her just s a little while ago coupled with the freshly fucked feeling still coating her senses made the housewife a wee bit guilty. She managed to wear the saree quickly enough but couldn’t prevent the wetness around her crotch to once again form a sticky patch out in front. She opened the door to let Deen in. He said that his afternoon classes were cancelled and he had no mood to go to the library.

Walking in, Deen looked quizzically at his Mom. She looked different. Her hair was disheveled and her saree looked rumpled in a peculiar manner. Her scanty blouse was wet with sweat. If it wasn’t for the glow on her face, he would have presumed that she was sweating from her kitchen work. As she walked towards the couch in the living room, he noticed the languid movements of her hips and the slow roll of her hips. The sway was slower but sexier. It was an indescribable sight but she looked different. Suddenly he noticed the damp patch around her crotch on the transparent saree. It looked so provocative, just below her rich bush. Manya noticed where her son was looking, but it was too late to amend things. In a bid to make the atmosphere more casual, she spread her thighs out and tried to relax on the couch. Her posture became rather lewd for her teenaged son and he began to experience the familiar stirring in his loins which looking at his sexy mother for more than a minute always produced. At this stage Manya asked her son to take a bath so that they could lunch together. Deen proceeded rather thankfully to the bathroom, glad that he could hide his arousal.

Manya was still lying in that obscene pose on the couch when she heard the main door open slightly. She had forgotten to lock it after Deen’s arrival. It opened wider and in came the grocer. She panicked and hissed at him to go away, pointing at the bathroom where her son was bathing. But he had not come to leave. Not long after he left Manya, he began to reminisce over the morning’s astounding developments, especially the ease with which he could enter Manya’s hot pussy. Soon his thoughts led to a bursting hard on and he felt the time was still convenient enough for another go at the gorgeous piece of ass, which would be doing nothing else but masturbating away anyway, according to him. So off he rushed to get his pussy.

When he neared her, Manya whispered frantically to him that her son was around. Not giving a damn, he motioned for her to turn over, unzipping his trousers in the same motion. Strangely, Manya felt herself obeying him, while she was still gesticulating towards the bathroom door where Deen was. With strong and silent efficiency, he once again gripped her voluptuous hips and shook her like a doll. Manya’s body throbbed with renewed lust and her pussy started dripping in record time. The risk in the situation was obscured by the heat of his manhood pressing against her already naked ass. He had merely hiked her saree up and thrust his dick right into her willing and wet cunt. The pumping began instantaneously and her cunt muscles started clasping his dick in greed, milking it to new heights of passion. She could still hear the shower and so could the grocer.

He ploughed mercilessly into her in the same bitch posture. She cried and sobbed to herself out of sheer lust and ecstasy. Her body responded like a bud opening out and very soon, he splattered a rich dose of seed deep inside her loins. She absorbed every drop of his lovable cum and reveled in the sudden and explosive climax which the illicit encounter produced. In record speed, the grocer again zipped up and hissed a quick good bye. By the time, she moved from bitch posture to normal posture, he had sped off, leaving her gasping in pleasure and absolute wonder that she had been fucked twice in no time. Again she didn’t even see the dick that gave her so much joy. But more exciting was the thought that her son was right in the next room, but didn’t know about it. How wrong she was. Deen had seen it. And it took sometime for him to emerge from the bathroom. After all 2 jerk offs in ten minutes need some time for recovery.

The four youthful marauders left her door and Manya shut it with a mixed feeling. She was relieved that they left before her husband came out of the bath. Yet she felt a tingling in her loins and an ache in her breasts from all the pawing and mauling that she received with almost her full consent. The simultaneous pressure of four pairs of hands and one dick on her extra wholesome body under the pretext of festivity did its own things to her bodily responses and right now she had lost all the traces of satiety which the two mind blowing orgasms with the milkman and her cousin had given her. Instead her crotch and pussy experienced a rejuvenated itch from all the youthful caressing she received. The itch was now spreading all over her inner thighs – such was the impact of raw energy on her mature voluptuous body. After shutting the door, she slumped right down onto the floor, her saree still off her shoulders, her body still dripping from the soaking she received from Sam, the neighbourhood painter and photographer. Sam was a sensitive and soft spoken kid next door who always had that adulatory look in his eyes but not that raw passion. So he had just drenched her all over without really groping her like the others did. Like Deen, his perspective was also a bit distant and appreciative rather than physical, which was what most people who came into contact with Manya became.

Deen saw his mother slumping onto the floor and was concerned.

“Mom, are you OK?”, he called out and rushed to her side. He held her bare shoulders and wondered whether she was going to swoon. Luckily Manya was experiencing just a passing bout of exhaustion and she looked into her son’s eyes and smiled at him, loving the fact that he was concerned.

“Let’s go to the bedroom Mom”, he said as he tried to help her to her feet. Manya allowed him to help her. Her saree was still down and as she rose, her full cleavage, half exposed in her low cut sleeveless blouse brushed past his face. Deen was still on his knees as he helped his mother to stand up and when she finally stood, her wet, juicy belly button, embedded in the centre of a fully open, huge midriff stared right into his face, barely a couple of inches from his nose. As he also rose, he felt the tip of his nose poke her navel, making Manya shudder again for a second. Deen rose and placed his arms right around his Mom’s fleshy, yet shapely waist and led her into the bedroom. Manya’s saree was dragging right behind her on the floor and Deen found it quite inconvenient to release her and put it onto his mother’s sexy, lewdly exposed body. He liked the feel of her squeezy waist flesh and its amazing elasticity and with a hardening cock, he walked her right onto her bed. As she flopped down onto her bed, Manya caressed her son’s face for a second and mumbled a thank you. Deen heard the bathroom door opening and rushed out of the room, clutching his erection, leaving his father to confront his lusty mother, who he felt had given in to her horny impulses a wee bit. Manya lay flat on the bed, with her saree top thrown aside, her expansive midriff and belly spread out to any body’s gaze.

Deen came out of the bath, fully dressed and was stunned to see his half naked wife, wantonly spread out, wet and tired on the bed. He took one look at her lush frame and cursed. “Why the hell did you have to open the door”? “Have you gone mad”? “Or are you dumb”? “I’ll teach those guys a lesson for breaking into my house”, he ranted.

Manya, whose hands were almost about to move towards her pussy, got back to her senses on hearing her husband’s screams. “It’s all right. They are just boys and it’s Holi. We have to be a part of the neighbourhood at least on festive occasions. Leave it”, she reasoned.

Desh was pacified when he heard his wife’s calm voice and he bent down, gave her a quick kiss on her throbbing lips and left for the door, uttering a loud good bye. He would not be back until late evening.

The main door clicked shut and almost as if a signal had been given, Manya’s hand went slowly to her crotch. It was spontaneous, built on years of experiences. A slow caress began and she glowingly recollected the morning’s adventure, dwelling a few moments longer on Salman’s vigorous thrusts on her saree covered ass. Her fingers probed deeper into her pussy through her thin saree and petticoat as she remembered his fleeting kisses on her neck, cheeks, earlobes and finally her lips. The finesse with which her sexy body was manhandled by four studs, without the slightest room for complaint left her astounded and deep within she praised them and thanked them. Praise for their initiative and thanks for choosing and appreciating her body of all the women in the area.

Deen entered the bedroom after his father’s departure more to check on his Mom’s condition. He needed no further proof of her well being the moment he saw her lying on the bed, eyes closed and fingering her pussy through her saree. He heaved a sigh of relief and slowly brought her out of her dream.

“Mom would you like to have a bath”? he asked her, more in a whisper, close to her ear.

The pussy caressing mother slowly opened her eyes and told her son that it may be better to wait until noon till the entire neighbourhood is through with celebrating Holi so that she need not take repeated baths. As she spoke she slowly withdrew her hand from the mound she was caressing with much care. Deen left her on the bed and noted the time. It was just half past nine and the festival was still young. However he headed towards his room for a bit of reading, thinking that his Mom needed a rest.

Manya rested but only for a few minutes. She realized that there was some washing of clothes to be done and slowly raised herself out of the bed, her saree still off her shoulders. It remained off her shoulders when Manya picked up all the clothes from the bathroom and shoved them into the washing machine. It remained off her shoulders when Manya threw her white blouse of yesterday also into the machine. And it still remained off her shoulders when Manya contemplated whether the saree she was wearing needed to go into the machine. Since there were a few hours still left for her bath, she decided not to remove her saree and clicked the washing machine on. The sudden activation of the machine when her hands were still on it, sent a throbbing right through her lusty body. She sat down next to the machine, her left hand on the machine and the right hand inside her pussy, probing through her saree. For a full ten minutes she caressed herself to the electrical rhythm, thrusting her fingers right through the garment into her soaked pussy and orgasmed with a shrill moan.

Deen heard the shrill moan and ran into the room, wondering what happened. His entry was soundless and therefore he was witness to his mother’s half naked form next to the machine, heaving and panting with the last bursts of orgasm shuddering through her full body. “What a horny woman”, thought the amazed son of Manya.

Manya had just begun to relax from the surrogate release she had just experienced. She heard another ring of the door bell. Deen answered the door and came to tell Manya that all the inmates of their lane had organized a get together on the terrace of their neighbouring building. A total of fifty invitees were expected, from the families of all friends. A few games were also planned to make the show lively. Manya agreed to come along with Deen in tow and before leaving she contemplated whether to change out of her present attire or not. Remembering that it was Holi, with the possibility of further drenching, she decided to go as she was. Moreover, everybody around would be similarly wet, she thought. She rose, examined herself for just a second in the mirror and saw that her clothes stuck to her body, wetly caressing her sexy curves and made her look rather provocative. She quickly shook the thought from her mind reasoning that just about all would be wet in a Holi gathering. Finally putting the saree back onto her sleeveless shoulders, she left the house alongwith her elder son towards the next door terrace.

In the elevator heading upwards to the terrace were two other families and then there was Salman. Manya met his eyes and blushed softly. He met Manya’s gaze too with a twinkle in his eyes. On the terrace, everyone’s eyes were on Manya. There was hardly anyone wet out there since most of them had come prepared for a morning of fun and games. About twenty women and thirty five men of all ages graced the occasion. Manya was the prize pick amongst the women and the fact that she came without her husband did not help matters. Every dick on the terrace was erect within minutes of Manya’s entry, including Salman’s, Sam’s and her own son Deen’s.

In the first game, everyone was made to sit in a circle and one person would run around with a handkerchief in hand. He would drop the handkerchief behind any person’s back and that one had to discover it, pick it up and run around until he or she dropped it behind someone else’s behind. Sam ran around first and after three rounds dropped it behind Manya’s sexy back. Luckily Manya noticed it and she rose, picking it up and began running in a circle. As she ran, her big breasts under the braless, sleeveless blouse, bounced and swayed with exaggerated energy. Her wet saree hugged her huge buttocks and they jiggled sexily with every step she took. If viewed in slow motion, Manya’s run would have been the raunchiest run of all time for the sheer sexual energy it conveyed. She took three circles and dropped it behind Sam’s Dad. The old man ran around and again dropped it behind sexy Manya’s ass. Manya didn’t notice it but she saw Deen gesturing to her to look behind her ass. She did so and rose with the handkerchief in hand. She ran around and dropped it this time behind Salman. Salman was almost expecting it. He took two rounds and again dropped it behind Manya’s lush behind. Manya rose and began her dick stiffening run with her voluptuous body bouncing and swaying all over, breasts, ass and all. It was soon very clear that Manya was the dropping target because everyone wanted to see her sexy body in motion. Manya realized it too but did not protest. She was hoping someone would realise. Salman did and he suggested they play a different game called punishment. Manya sighed and looked at him in relief and gratitude. Salman simply looked back fondly at her and something twitched between Manya’s wet loins again.

In this game the youngest member had to pick a name from lots drawn and that name would have to meet with a punishment decided by the youngest member again. Deen being the youngest picked up a name and much to everyone’ surprise, it turned out to be Manya’s. He looked at his Mom and read out the selected punishment. “Make snacks for all fifty people in half an hour. Select one person to help you.” Flummoxed, Manya stood speechless for a moment, wondering whom to pick for help. Her eyes first fell on her son Deen but she decided he was not quick enough to help her in this kind of job. Noticing Salman’s bright look in her direction, she pointed her dainty finger in his direction. With a roar, everyone directed the couple to the kitchen in the basement, where the items for sandwich preparation lay. Nobody else was allowed to enter the basement and it would mean a foul with further punishment.

Manya and Salman rushed into the elevator in a hurry and Salman pressed the door shut, clicking the basement button. Deen watched in interest as he saw his mother’s fleshy posterior disappear into the lift alongwith Salman. Her creamy back with the saree right down to her ass was the last he saw of his juicy mom for the next half an hour. He also saw Salman place his hand on his mother’s ass just before closing the elevator door, as if ushering her in.

The moment the elevator door shut, Manya felt Salman’s hands grab her breasts through the braless blouse. Without a moment’s warning he proceeded to maul them, much in the same way she experienced in the morning. Her saree was half off and he dipped his head down to kiss her roughly on her wet lips.

“What are you doing Salman,” she hissed.

“Mrs. M, don’t stop me. I have been dying to pleasure your lovely body the day I saw you. Today you will love it, I assure you”.

“We don’t have time Salman. Snacks have to be made”, she protested. her protest was meek because his squeezing of her half exposed breasts had already started the juice factory in her loins. A steady drip began and her protests thereafter were merely symbolic. Even before the elevator reached the basement, he had her saree right off her lush body and he ushered her out of the lift, saree in hand towards the kitchen in the basement. There was not a soul there as per the game. On his cell phone, he rang up the local restaurant owned by his own family and ordered them to deliver fifty packets of sandwiches within twenty minutes at the basement. Putting the phone away, he looked at her full body, clad only in petticoat and sleeveless blouse. Manya met his gaze with a blush and waited. Salman grabbed the horny housewife by the shoulders and threw her on the basement floor in one quick motion, raising her petticoat over her thighs. One hand mauled her breast while the other pounded her lush ass. Manya was aroused beyond mention in double quick time. She spread herself lasciviously on the bare floor and flipped herself around, presenting her round, full ass to the young stud who had pawed her so strongly this morning. He had also agreed to help her in the game and that made her more grateful. She bent on all fours and shook her ass at him as if to express her gratitude.Things happened in seconds as Salman, who already had his dick out, positioned himself behind the beautiful housewife’s ass and began pumping like there was no tomorrow. He was quite right given the situation. Manya took his thrusts with gasps and yelps initially. As the powerful pistoning into her pussy assumed a new level, she mewled and moaned, getting louder and more passionate. Salman rammed and rammed into the beautiful woman who was the wet dream of the neighbourhood. He knew that just about everyone wanted to bury their dicks into this lusty woman’s pussy and he was thrilled that he got there early. His hands reached out and fully cupped and squeezed her melon like boobs. He had missed out on her boobs to Sam in the morning but here, he was making up with a vengeance. Boobs and cunt got mercilessly ravaged in a rousing ten minute busrt of passion which made Manya’s head spin and cunt go wild with secretion. Her fleshy hips and full breasts got the ‘real man treatment’ from the stud and Manya screamed in lust at every thrust of his manhood. The alarm in his cellphone rang to signal the elapsing of ten minutes and Salman rapidly increased his thrust tempo into the wildly aroused wife’s lewdly presented pussy. “Bitch, take it, ” he screamed as he came in hot scalding loads all over her ass and inside her heated love nest.

Manya rose gently, naked except for her sleeveless blouse. Salman had ripped off her petticoat in the heat of his lust. When their combined passions receded, they heard the basement bell ring. Salman motioned for Manya to be quiet and rose, dragging up his trousers and went to pick up the snacks which would have arrived. Manya, still gasping and lying on the floor, thought she heard the voice of Salman’s father, who ran the restaurant. She heard some decision being taken and also heard Salman mutter loudly “Not now” “Maybe a blowjob if there’s time”… and saw Salman hurry in again unzipping his pants. Sounds of something being unpacked came from the other side of the wall. Salman rushed to her and without delay, said “We have fifteen more minutes and my Dad is finishing the snack arrangements. We’ll not be late.”

He entered her spreadeagled pussy again missionary style, forcing her legs up in the air. Manya was like a rag doll in this stud’s hands but she loved his fucking. It was heavenly and hard. “What were you telling your father”? asked Manya inbetween Salman’s humping motions.

“Nothing great. He asked whether there was time for him to fuck you. I told him there was no time. But maybe you can think of a blowjob can’t you? he replied rather casually. Manya nodded almost immediately and quickly bit her tongue.

“My goodness Manya, what are you truning into”, she thought to herself, but quickly brought herself to enjoy the second fuck Salman was throwing into her hungry, aroused cunt. He fucked and fucked into her, mashing her body all over and sending her into a supercharged state of lust. Manya gave herself up to his manly assault and continued to milk his dick with her cunt until they both came together in a shattering orgasm. Her second orgasm in less than thirty minutes with a first time lover seemed so familiar, pleasurable and dear.Somehow she didn’t think like she was fucking a stranger. Getting fucked was no longer strange to the adulterous woman and mother.

With just five minutes left, Salman loaded the snack cart into the elevator and signalled to her to wrap up and move. Sh draped her saree again over her well fucked body and moved towards the lift. On the way she almost instantaneously reached out towards Salman’s Dad crotch, gave it a fond squeeze and said “Your son has got some force Dad. Is this where it all came from?”.

The old man could take it no more. Less than two minutes were left for the couple to reappear on the terrace. He grabbed Manya’s face and gave one long, wet kiss right on her mouth. Manya whimpered and went limp, her hand continuously caressing his organ through the pants. It was Salman’s shout that forced the new couple apart. Manya staggered into the elevator, feeling hot and nasty. The elevator began its upward movement with the snack cart and Salman, realising that they had atleast half a minute dove right into Manya’s lap, lifted up her saree and dipped his lips straight into her cum soaked pussy. Manya gasped in astonishment for the next thirty seconds as her young stud slurped her well fucked pussy like a true lover. Her juices flowed in gratification and she felt loved rather than fucked. Her saree came down the moment the elevator door opened and he licentious couple staggered out to the cheers of fifty people.

Their flushed faces told a tale but only to the discerning few, which included Sam and Manya’s son Deen. Deen knew when his mother showed the freshly fucked glow. It was there all over her beautiful face now. It was just the number of orgasms that he couldn’t guess from her horny face. The ease with which Manya carried herself throughout the snack session despite all that her body had been through in the past few hours left Deen wondering and he developed some awe for his beautiful mother’s ability.

The snack session had almost reached its end when one of the members cried out “foul foul”. Everyone looked in his direction. He was holding a restaurant tag in his hand which he discovered stuck to the base of his sandwich packet. Salman cursed his Dad. He was under instructions to remove all traces of evidence that the food was packed from their hotel. But he seemed to have overlooked just one packet. The error margin was small but Manya and he had been caught. The gathering decided a light hearted punishment for Manya, since even getting caught was part of the game. Deen was asked to decide on the nature of the penalty and he told his Mom to take a skipping rope and carry out thirty skips without a break.

Protesting with a laugh, Manya took the rope and began skipping. Her saree was still quite damp and it stuck to her ass like plaster. With every skip, her full, unhindered breasts danced and jumped in tandem with her mammoth asscheeks. It was a lusty, mind blowingly erotic sight, watching the wet, mature woman skip in front of an audience of fifty. Deen realised his folly in fixing that penalty for his luscious mother. But it was too late. Moreover the sight excited him no end. He lost count of her skips and kept gaping, just as everyone on the terrace did. Manya reached ten without any problem. Slowly, the top half of her saree or pallu, kept sliding and sliding with each skip and by the time the sexy mother reached count fifteen, it fell right off her shoulders, leaving the crowd in pin drop silence. They all looked in awe at the voluptous charms of the fully exposed woman in their presence. Her low worn saree was right at her hip bone, and the full, huge midriff with the juicy wet navel was ripplingly revealed. Her wholesome midriff flesh jiggled alongwith her melon like breasts with the nipples very clearly visible for all to see. Topped by her ample meaty asscheeks heaving behind, she look like a woman screaming to get raped. And she was skipping, trying to look normal because any stopping would mean that she would have to start skipping all over again. Deen was aghast with arousal and he suddenly shouted ” thirty”, not knowing whether she actually skipped thirty times or not. Nobody objected and the game was over, leaving every male organ on the terrace aching and throbbing. The voluptuous mother heaved a sigh of relief and readjusted her pallu and waited as people came back to normalcy from that intensely erotic sight they had witnessed. Deen’s heart was still pounding but somewhere he was thrilled and aroused too. His sexy mother was on show and it was all carried on as a game. There could have been no better sight for a voyeur and he stored these images away in his mind for later use.

To break the ice after that lusty display by Manya, someone suggested that they all go to the large water tank on the yard below for some final dunking. Water dunking was usually the last item in a Holi celebration. On the way down many women sympathised with Manya for the embarassment she had been subjected to. Manya laughed it off, saying it was all fun and games. Some were awestruck too by the sheer sexuality she had projected. Salman’s mother came across to her and said “Manya my dear, if I had an ass like yours, I would keep Salman’s father at home whole day”. Manya looked up at her with just a mild sense of guilt and smiled a thank you. Salman’s mom gave a gentle squeeze to Manya’s enormous ass and walked away.

When the dunking began, it started with the older people. They were dunked more symbolically, allowing for their brittle bones. Many of the women were also dunked, with utmost care and sobriety. A few teenage girls were dunked rather forcefully, causing them to scream, following which they were dunked again. Deen however didn’t think of those girls. He waited with a thumping heart because he knew his voluptuous mother’s turn was almost due. It was Salman’s father who took the initiative by carrying Manya and throwing her into the tank when nobody else was in it. Fifty pairs of eyes took in Manya’s wet, drippingly voluptuous form as she emerged like a sex goddess from the tank. Her saree stuck to her full curves and the rear portion dug into her ass crevice giving a clear picture, removing any sense of mystery about Deen’s mother’s ass. She shook herself after she got out of the pool and her full body rippled and glowed, especially her fully exposed belly flesh. Droplets of water in her deep navel flew out sexily and everybody hung their tongues out. Pin drop silence hung i n the air again. Deen could however hear a resident mutter to himself, clutching his crotch, “Desh is a lucky bastard.” The man standing next to him also heard him and he added a rejoinder, “Yup! Imagine going to bed daily with that piece of ass. She’s built for fucking man.”

Deen digested this vulgarity with a mixed sense of anger and arousal. He was as aroused as them. He saw little wrong in the ultimate physical expression of a mental urge. He secretly wondered how his mom would take it if all the men in the neighbourhood made a beeline for her when her husband was away. Even as he was thinking, he saw his mother getting dunked again. The moment she rose from the tank, Salman himself carried her by her full waist and dunked her all over again. She squealed this time, liking the familiarity of his strong hands and even managed to drag him too into the tank with her. Salman and Manya groped around in the pool, staggering to regain ground. In the process their bodies met, his crotch against her ample, wet ass. It was only for a few seconds, but it caught the eye of Salman’s mother – and Deen’s too. Deen did feel a wee bit of jealousy at the total fondness the couple in the tank were displaying. The woman being his mother added a fiery spark to his thinking. For the next five minutes he watched and heard his squealing mother as man after man carried her and dunked her with regularity, some of them doing it more than once. He saw Salman’s father discretely pawing his Mom’s wet assglobes even as he was throing her lusciously wet body into the tank. When the men started taking a few extra liberties on her still unaware self, Manya felt that familiar tingle in her loins. This was not the place to give in to her urges. She struggled out of the last man’s groping hands and went towards Sam, whose apartment was the nearest in the building. The festivities were as good as complete and people were clearing up.

“I need to pee Sam, and dry up a bit, she asked him.

Sam’s eyes took in her wholsome, well stacked form and licking his lips, he led her into his house. Deen’s eyes followed his mother’s wet ass, which could have as well been naked. But it was lustier than naked and hornier than nude in that tightly clinging wet saree. He felt that he may like to give it a thorough spanking till she yelped.

Chapter 9

Sam as he was affectionately called by friends was actually Sameer and a budding photographer cum artist. He looked at Manya with his deep eyes taking in every ounce of her wet and lightly trembling body. The tremble was caused on account of the light breeze caressing her wet skin. He led Deen’s mother inside his apartment and guided her to the bathroom. His parents were still involved in the winding up of the morning’s activities and could take another half an hour. Recognizing Manya’s urgency to take a pee and her equally urgent need to rid herself atleast of the drip in her clothes, the considerate neighbour told her to use the toilet while he fetched the dryer for her hair. Manya tread softly on the carpet, hoping the colour water drip from her juicy body would not damage the carpet. Her whole body was coated in red, including her face. If she were to make a first appearance in this manner, none would recognize her by face. But now everyone in the area would recognise her by her voluptuously stacked body, more so by her flaring ass with the big butt cups. Almost all the men would recognize her blindfolded by feel too, going by the way they all manhandled and dunked her. Truly she had become the neighbourhood wet dream and yet she maintained her own aura and control over things, managing to make everyone feel exclusive and special. In short nobody would fuck and tell on Manya. Nobody wanted to be denied of her horny body by doing so.

The whole house was silent as Manya entered the bathroom and left the door open for Sam to bring the dryer later. She could have shut it and opened it when he knocked, but somehow didn’t do it. Bunching her saree around her waist, she sat with her naked asscheeks on the toilet. As she was peeing, she also twisted her wet saree, extracting all the dripping water from it and placed it around her knees in front, bunched up, but covering her thighs over the toilet seat. Then she removed the saree pallu from her shoulders and squeezed it too, draining all the water from it. As she pissed, she once again experienced a throbbing in her loins. This time the throbbing relaxed only the pee pressure but retained the other pressure – the pressure of her accumulated horniness. The entire morning she was fondled, squeezed and dunked into water and also experienced the exhibitionistic thrill of being on display during the little games. The whole series of events where she was treated as a pure