My Last Morning With Me
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Erotic Story Of BINITA. 5 free porn video
Chapter 05: They Celebrate Holi Together
When Thakur Hari Singh stirred from his slumber he immediately became aware that while he was covered by a sheet, he was not wearing his dhoti and the lower part of his body was bare. His eyes felt cool and his body felt alive with a buzz and he remembered savoring the luscious body of his bahu (daughter-in-law). It reminded him of how he had felt in his younger days when he lost his virginity to one of the older maids. That particular maid, one who had been his nanny through growing years, had allowed him to discover sex through her. She and her young master had several trysts till the young man had learned enough to go off on conquests of other women around the household.
Thakur lazily reached between his legs and while he was no longer hard and erect, his penis had not lost its volume either. It lay on his thigh, still not entirely shrunk, its dimensions doing no justice to energetic milking his daughter-in-law had subjected him to.
"That girl!" he marveled. His mind traveled back to the vision he had of her, on all fours under him, the flare of her hips pinching in at the waist and the way she had fucked back at him to make him cum. God! He felt his cock jump and twitch at the memory and he idly caressed himself, coated as he was with the now dry juices of their spending.
He raised himself on his elbows to see where his dhoti lay and was surprised to see that it was no longer on the floor where he had whipped it off in frenzy. It was well folded and placed on the chest of drawers. The stack of clothes which was previously there, which he and Binita had messed up and soaked with her juices, was also missing. The Thakur tensed a bit. Surely someone had come in and cleared up things a bit and had that person noticed him lying in this state on the bed. And what about the messed up stack of freshly laundered clothes?
"Any way, there is nothing to be done about it," he ruminated and got up to get dressed again. As he started to yawn he felt stiffness around his mouth, particularly his mustache which felt starched. He realized that was the cum of Binita's which had dried on him while he slept. He desperately needed to wash up, rinsing all signs of the illicit, yet lovely, lovemaking that had happened earlier. It felt like he had slept for hours but he noticed it was just over 30 minutes. Once again, he remembered the past when he had slept deep and soundly every time his Dai maa (nanny) had fucked him.
He wondered where Binita was now. As he wound the dhoti around and tucked in the long end around his waist, he reflected on how little was said between him and her around the house. Clearly, both were self conscious of each other and avoided any overt contact unless absolutely necessary. And yet, on two occasions now, three times in all, they had plowed into each other feeding each others deepest and most illicit of desires.
He moved off to wash his face, regretfully noting that he would have to get rid of the fragrant aroma of her juices on him, for fear of it being noticed. It was getting to be time for his late afternoon round of the farmyard followed by the hookah session. He never missed showing up for those and he was not about to change those habits this late in life.
Binita was buried and lost. Not just in the recesses of that vast haveli but also in the household chores it offered. She just wanted to lose herself and not be seen or noticed particularly. Yes, she was self conscious. She didn't want to be spotted by her husband in their bedroom because he might want to make love to her and she wasn't going to be able to handle that. That inability to handle it was a combination of guilt, exhaustion from the ravaging at the hands of the very potent Thakur and of the mental preoccupation with that other man.
The only other place was to engage in household chores even though she didn't want to encounter Maaji (The Thakurain, the Thakur's wife) right after having been wild, fucking her Babuji (the Thakurain's husband). Some of the housework did allow her the benefit of keeping her eyes on the task at hand and her head down rather than getting into eye contact and conversation with her mother-in-law.
And so the day wore on, and very soon the remaining couple days of Binita and Pritam's stay at Pritam's family home came to an end. Once again, both Binita and Thakur had remained quiet about their involvement with each other. Any words exchanged were only in the presence of others. For all that had happened between them, neither of them reached out to the other to set up a tryst or rendezvous. Something may have happened had her mother-in-law sent her to the Thakur to attend on him. But she did not.
She did not, but not because there was no such work. It was just that the Thakurain was carefully observing her bahu's behavior around the house and around the Thakur, her own husband. It puzzled her no end that both the Thakur and his daughter-in-law were so circumspect. There was no communication in words or in glances and looks. Either Binita's presence or Thakur's presence was always accounted for. The Thakurain found that quite incredible, given what she had observed. In fact, clearly the Thakur was taking his bahu from behind in a position she did not think possible.
Could she have been mistaken? No, definitely not. Binita had walked past the room where the Thakurain was hiding right after the encounter ended and Thakurain clearly saw that it was indeed her daughter-in-law who had been fucking her husband.
Could it then have been that he forced her? Thakurain might have believed that, but she clearly remembered the girl grinding her hips back and fucking back at the Thakur. And her giveaway moans and throes of orgasm. No, it could not have been force, though perhaps it started with him forcing himself on her.
And while she thought about all of this, she thought it prudent to keep the girl away from her father-in-law so no further chores of attending to him were allotted to her. This would also have allowed the Thakurain to spot any willful moves on her bahu's part.
Yet, nothing came to pass. The Thakurain could not figure it out and her son and daughter-in-law left for the city to continue their life there.
Festival days are times for the family to congregate around each other. Pritam and Binita were due to join the family at the family home in the village and both arrived in time for the festivities associated with Holi, the Indian festival of colors. This is celebrated at the end of the Indian winter. Traditionally it is celebrated with dry color and pichkaris (a water squirter) are used to spray colored water on one another. Music, dancing and a bonfire of holika are also part of the celebration.
The city girl, bold and confident, transformed to a demure girl, eyes downcast and head down whenever she came to her in-law's place. Her mother in law was very nice to her so it had nothing to do with being fearful of the woman. Her father-in-law was someone she had challenged and spoken aggressively to, only once; on that occasion an intense sexual chemistry between the two of them had sprung up and neither of them could control, manage or come to terms with that intensity.
Her demureness had more to do with an attempt to blend in and not have to face that intensity which melted or the subsequent guilt which rankled in her. Fortunately for her, Thakur knew when to wait for and take his women, that having been the pattern with the maids of the house; and now with this new woman, his daughter-in-law, as well.
The days surrounding Holi are a mad melee of fun and games with an incessant flow of visitors and friends. As the special day itself comes closer, most of the youngsters play with colors and water even though one is supposed to do that only on the day of Holi itself.
And so it was with the day immediately before Holi. The haveli courtyard and rooms for visitors were overfull with cousins and friends of Pritam and his parents. Everyone was dressed in special clothes and so was Binita. She was wearing a ghagra choli (skirt and blouse) but this one was designed in the city and had a more daring cut and from fabrics different from the traditional ones used. The choli was practically backless with just two strings holding the front piece on her lovely succulent breasts. One string went behind the neck and the other string was along the bottom hem of the blouse. In the middle was an expanse of seductive skin, exposed to all, but for the chiffon dupatta used to cover it all. The gauze like dupatta did more to allure by hinting at what lay beneath.
As she laughed, joked and went about the house with friends and relatives, an occasional momentary slippage of the dupatta would give any person lucky enough to be around a view of her back. The front was not daringly cut, but yes, it was firm and supportive enough to hold up her breasts almost as if they were on offer. The motifs on the front of the blouse, while traditional, were arranged in a manner that visually accentuated the contours of her oh-so-suckable breasts.
None of this was lost on the Thakur who watched every move of his bahu, reminiscing of the time he had caressed that back and watched it weave and undulate as he rode her like a stallion, from behind. Or of those breasts, which in his mind were desperate to be released from the confines.
The boisterousness of Holi is the one occasion when men younger and older, and the girls and women flirt with each other outrageously. Some get drunk and touch, kiss and fondle -- unthinkable behavior on any other day. The girls respond rather shamelessly. And the saucier, perhaps those in their 30's, seduce without really intending to let the Romeos go the whole distance.
And Thakur watched this too, as Binita participated to the fullest and was the life and soul of happenings in the haveli that day. He saw the same sauciness and charm which he had encountered that first time she came to fight with him. It reminded him of the wild girl he had tamed rather than the intense girl who he had fucked on the next two occasions. His loins stirred as he started to want the saucy wanton woman in his daughter-in-law.
These last months when she was away, there was a new intensity and frequency in his sexual affairs with the maids with even the Thakurain coming in for some treatment. With all that, in the eye of his mind, each time it was Binita he was fucking. Everyone of them felt that change in intensity as he pounded them into the mattress, cushioning or ground below.
The Thakur's favorite among the bevy of maids was treated to his newly discovered oral skills. Soon enough the story had spread among a small circle and some of them made it a point to catch the Thakur's eye -- and more. And every one of them wondered what it was about.
During Holi, boisterousness and flirtation usually leads to some throwing of water and color and a general loss of control of the situation. Today was no different. Some youngster started off the riot by throwing water at someone else and soon out came the packets of color and pichkaris. The bolder among the boys approached Binita and with joyous shouts of "Bhabhi" and chased her to throw color and water at her.
Binita ran, laughing, out of breath, ducking in and out of corridors and rooms avoiding everyone skillfully, till she was cornered. As the youth with flushed face paused on finding her trapped, he took in the intoxicating sight of Binita with her dupatta askew and face radiant with smiles and a flushed look.
"Wait!" she said authoritatively. "Don't spoil my new dress. I will change and come down and then I will allow you to do what you want."
"Whatever I want?" asked the young man audaciously, his eyes sparkling.
"Yes, whatever!" she replied impishly.
He drew himself back, placing his bets on getting a chance at more aggressive flirting once she was down. He promised himself he would soak her blouse to reveal the skin below and get a good look at her breasts; and then who knows what that might lead to?
Binita was gone in a whirlwind of laughter and she ran up the steps towards her room to change into a white kurta set which she had saved up for this occasion. It is always white, and it might typically be an old set of clothes. The colors would show up well on the white but would be ruined for any normal use thereafter, and so the preference for old clothes to be used on Holi day.
While she had caught glimpses of her Babuji, the Thakur, and while she knew she would have enjoyed flirting with him, the true events between them inhibited her. What she didn't know was that Thakur had never really let her go out of sight today. She remained in his line of sight as he watched her flirt, play and caught glimpses of her back, her ankles and as much of the rest of her lovely persona as he could.
And he caught sight of her dashing up the stairs.
Her suitcase was on the low table next to the dresser and Binita was rummaging through her clothes all in a hurry to find the white kurta. She was startled when she felt a pair of hands grip her shoulders from behind. The scare quickly turned into a pounding heartbeat as she recognized the grip; it was Thakur. He had followed her upstairs.
Binita did not move. From her bent position she looked up and behind at him and smiled. But she stayed that way. Thakur placed his hand flat on the exposed skin of her back. As soon as she felt him touch her, she was reduced to molten. That is all it took for him to melt her. His large, rough hands on her soft, ready to receive skin.
A fingernail drew a line down her spine as he traced his way down her back right up to the edge of her skirt. Binita shuddered as the nail touched every single erogenous spot on its way. It was as if he was unzipping and opening out her sexuality with that fingernail.
"Aap mauka dhoondh rahe they, lagta hai," she said to him. (You seem to have been waiting for an opportunity).
"Haan," he replied, "Warna tum aati kahan ho." (Yes, otherwise you never come to me).
Both hands held her at the waist.
"Itni bhari ghar mey, koi dekh lega toh kya hoga?" she asked. (In such a full house, what if we get spotted?).
"Pehle toh kisi ne nahi dekha," he replied. (No one ever saw us before.)
He now lifted her skirt revealing her ass to him. There were those panties, ever an obstacle.
"Aise khullam khulla thodi hota hai," she countered. (It cannot be done so openly, can it?).
Her hands gripped the sides of the low table to steady herself.
"Toh chupke se aa jana, beti," he advised her. (So then come to me quietly).
"Aap ke paas aa kar mai chup nahi reh sakti, Babuji!" she said with a playful smile. (I cannot come to you and keep quiet).
She pulled down her panties and stamping with her feet got it off her legs.
"Jo bhi karna hai jaldi ki jiye, mujhe neeche bhi jaana hai, nahi toh koi dhoondhta aa jayega," she told him. (Do whatever you have to quickly, otherwise someone might come looking for me.)
With one hand on her hips, his other hand arranged the folds of his dhoti so his cock found a gap in the cloth. His erection had been ebbing and hardening all morning as he had taken in different sights of his daughter-in-law. But all her sauciness now had it in full rage.
Thakur straightened his back to thrust his cock forward. It was pointing upward in its blood-engorged firmness. He held it and lowered it, pointing to her ass. He laved it with the precum on his cockhead.
Binita shuddered as he touched her in unnamed zones from her ass to her cunt. She reached under to try guiding him. Yes, she wanted this manliness and perversely, found herself wondering how the man had failed to pass on this endowment to his son.
He leaned forward and with his teeth, pulled open the lower cord that held the blouse in place. Now the lower part of the blouse was hanging loose while the upper part stayed tethered around the neck. Thakur straightened up and guided his cock back into the vale between the asshceeks. This time his cock snagged in the outer lips of her cunt and he thrust forward to embed himself. While both of them were in an instant boil, the encounter itself was sudden and so neither was overly lubricated.
This was just as well, because the friction was immensely pleasurable to both. Their "Ah!" was in unison, almost orchestrated.
Binita laughed a small laugh and gripped the edge of the table hard and held her ass firm and upturned to him.
Thakur grunted and pulled back to thrust again. The bangles on her hands jangled as he fucked her. She was wearing a full hand which was how it was on festival days. But with his methodical thumping, the jangling became louder and followed the beat of his fucking.
She wished she had taken them off but instead of silence, she actually added to the noises with a series of "unhhs!" as Thakur changed his pace of fucking.
The man had started rapidly sliding in and out of her cunt luxuriating in the way her lips rode over his head. His hands slowly slid up her waist, up the sides of her torso and now the thumb was on her back while the four fingers gripped the side of her chest. This allowed his index finger to feel the mass of her breasts while the middle finger and ring finger teased her nipples.
"O, Babuji! Yes, maul my breasts and ride me like this. How I missed this a****lness!" she hissed through clenched teeth.
She shook her head from side to side as indescribable pleasure emanated from her breasts and as the occasional lunge from the cock touched a pleasure zone inside her pussy.
"Ah!" exhaled the Thakur with every thrust. And as he pulled back, he sucked in his breath through an open mouth, making a seething sound. The rhythm of the hiss of the seething intake and the Ah of the thrust followed a pattern as Thakur closed his eyes, gripped her torso and fucked with a need to finish quick. This was dangerous as Binita rightly pointed out, but he could not have waited another hour. Now that Babuji and bahu had talked about it, he would fix a tryst for a longer leisurely exploration of sexuality. But right now, he just needed to own her, mark her, pound her and fill her.
Binita started to convulse as her orgasm ripped through her. She brought up one hand to hold her lower tummy as she felt the thick cock in her womb, from the deep penetration. She could feel it throb and pulsate inside her through the stomach wall. An occasional twinge of pain came from his marauding cockhead touching a sensitive part deep in her.
Binita's legs gave way as the intensity of the orgasm caused her to buckle.
She let out a scream of desperate wanting when Thakur's cock slipped out of her cunt as she fell forward, her face now buried in the pile of clothes in the suitcase.
The cock smeared itself on her ass as it missed its target completely and Thakur lurched in an uncontrolled response to lack of the grip of her cunt.
Binita frantically reached for his cock and Thakur frantically grabbed at her hips. She was now completely face down and her ass in the air. Her cunt was vacant and throbbing and she needed urgently to be filled back.
"Haaaaaaaaaaanh!" (Yes) she bellowed when he sank back into her. The sensation of cumming which had built up in him had receded and he pounded into her with a vengeance to regain the lost peak. The brutality of his quest took her over the cliff and her pussy melted in a cascade of spasms. She came like she thought only men came; drenching and shuddering uncontrollably.
The furniture groaned and squeaked as it slipped from its position on the floor and closed the gap with the wall. The suitcase overbalanced and threatened to fall to one side. Binita clung on to the suitcase and table and held her cunt steady and open for Thakur to bludgeon her into submission through the now impending orgasm. Thakur shuddered and came in torrents, as he most usually did with Binita. After two thrusts, he left her hips, placed his hands on the wall and thrust his cock deep into her and held there. The next few spasms of his cock were from the spewing from his cockhead and not from any thrusting. He stayed embedded and only when the pleasure threatened to recede completely did he pull back and thrust back in and hold again. That thrusting pulled back his skin and the cockhead swelled up and he was able to retain the fullness of his erection for another moment during which he could stay embedded. Another dribble of sperm and another thrust back. With each successive thrust, the cockhead swelled a little lesser and lesser, till finally he had come to rest on his daughter-in-law's sexy broad ass.
For Binita the flooding surge of warmth brought out deep sighs and screams in the throat. Her womb filled with this wonderful man's sumptuous outpourings. She felt his seed deep in her and she held steady as he plunged and held himself in more than once. His pleasure was so important to her, she just wanted him to savor every tremor of his and for her to receive every little spend from his system.
As the rapidly shrinking cock slipped away, Binita found herself unsupported as the Thakur had now placed his hands on the wall. She fell over, suitcase and all. She now was on her back, half inside her suitcase, looking up at Thakur who was standing still, hands on the wall. Thankfully for Binita, the ghagra skirt fell back to cover her, though her ass was still not covered.
She watched Thakur, lost in the trance of his experience, except for the occasional shuddering aftershock of his orgasm. He threw his head back, his hand reached for his cock and he gave himself a squeeze through a handful of cloth, squeezing out the never ending dribbles and yet drying his cock.
He looked down at his Binita, lying in a heap amongst clothes, the lower part of her blouse open and showing part of her breasts. Her eyes looked deep into his. They were soulmates. Her hand roamed over her the lower belly with the womb within and she palmed herself there, where he had deposited copious volumes of his seed. An indication of ownership.
She reached up inside his dhoti and squeeze-pinched the inside of his thigh. "Naughty man!" she pronounced and got up.
"Chalo, let me change," she said, signaling an end to the episode.
Thakur turned and checked the front of his dhoti and left. As Binita lifted her suitcase onto the low table, she froze. There at the window, was Maaji, Thakur's wife, her mother-in-law. Her hand was over her mouth and her bosom was heaving. When she was sure her husband had left the scene she entered the room and stood directly in front of Binita.
When Thakur Hari Singh stirred from his slumber he immediately became aware that while he was covered by a sheet, he was not wearing his dhoti and the lower part of his body was bare. His eyes felt cool and his body felt alive with a buzz and he remembered savoring the luscious body of his bahu (daughter-in-law). It reminded him of how he had felt in his younger days when he lost his virginity to one of the older maids. That particular maid, one who had been his nanny through growing years, had allowed him to discover sex through her. She and her young master had several trysts till the young man had learned enough to go off on conquests of other women around the household.
Thakur lazily reached between his legs and while he was no longer hard and erect, his penis had not lost its volume either. It lay on his thigh, still not entirely shrunk, its dimensions doing no justice to energetic milking his daughter-in-law had subjected him to.
"That girl!" he marveled. His mind traveled back to the vision he had of her, on all fours under him, the flare of her hips pinching in at the waist and the way she had fucked back at him to make him cum. God! He felt his cock jump and twitch at the memory and he idly caressed himself, coated as he was with the now dry juices of their spending.
He raised himself on his elbows to see where his dhoti lay and was surprised to see that it was no longer on the floor where he had whipped it off in frenzy. It was well folded and placed on the chest of drawers. The stack of clothes which was previously there, which he and Binita had messed up and soaked with her juices, was also missing. The Thakur tensed a bit. Surely someone had come in and cleared up things a bit and had that person noticed him lying in this state on the bed. And what about the messed up stack of freshly laundered clothes?
"Any way, there is nothing to be done about it," he ruminated and got up to get dressed again. As he started to yawn he felt stiffness around his mouth, particularly his mustache which felt starched. He realized that was the cum of Binita's which had dried on him while he slept. He desperately needed to wash up, rinsing all signs of the illicit, yet lovely, lovemaking that had happened earlier. It felt like he had slept for hours but he noticed it was just over 30 minutes. Once again, he remembered the past when he had slept deep and soundly every time his Dai maa (nanny) had fucked him.
He wondered where Binita was now. As he wound the dhoti around and tucked in the long end around his waist, he reflected on how little was said between him and her around the house. Clearly, both were self conscious of each other and avoided any overt contact unless absolutely necessary. And yet, on two occasions now, three times in all, they had plowed into each other feeding each others deepest and most illicit of desires.
He moved off to wash his face, regretfully noting that he would have to get rid of the fragrant aroma of her juices on him, for fear of it being noticed. It was getting to be time for his late afternoon round of the farmyard followed by the hookah session. He never missed showing up for those and he was not about to change those habits this late in life.
Binita was buried and lost. Not just in the recesses of that vast haveli but also in the household chores it offered. She just wanted to lose herself and not be seen or noticed particularly. Yes, she was self conscious. She didn't want to be spotted by her husband in their bedroom because he might want to make love to her and she wasn't going to be able to handle that. That inability to handle it was a combination of guilt, exhaustion from the ravaging at the hands of the very potent Thakur and of the mental preoccupation with that other man.
The only other place was to engage in household chores even though she didn't want to encounter Maaji (The Thakurain, the Thakur's wife) right after having been wild, fucking her Babuji (the Thakurain's husband). Some of the housework did allow her the benefit of keeping her eyes on the task at hand and her head down rather than getting into eye contact and conversation with her mother-in-law.
And so the day wore on, and very soon the remaining couple days of Binita and Pritam's stay at Pritam's family home came to an end. Once again, both Binita and Thakur had remained quiet about their involvement with each other. Any words exchanged were only in the presence of others. For all that had happened between them, neither of them reached out to the other to set up a tryst or rendezvous. Something may have happened had her mother-in-law sent her to the Thakur to attend on him. But she did not.
She did not, but not because there was no such work. It was just that the Thakurain was carefully observing her bahu's behavior around the house and around the Thakur, her own husband. It puzzled her no end that both the Thakur and his daughter-in-law were so circumspect. There was no communication in words or in glances and looks. Either Binita's presence or Thakur's presence was always accounted for. The Thakurain found that quite incredible, given what she had observed. In fact, clearly the Thakur was taking his bahu from behind in a position she did not think possible.
Could she have been mistaken? No, definitely not. Binita had walked past the room where the Thakurain was hiding right after the encounter ended and Thakurain clearly saw that it was indeed her daughter-in-law who had been fucking her husband.
Could it then have been that he forced her? Thakurain might have believed that, but she clearly remembered the girl grinding her hips back and fucking back at the Thakur. And her giveaway moans and throes of orgasm. No, it could not have been force, though perhaps it started with him forcing himself on her.
And while she thought about all of this, she thought it prudent to keep the girl away from her father-in-law so no further chores of attending to him were allotted to her. This would also have allowed the Thakurain to spot any willful moves on her bahu's part.
Yet, nothing came to pass. The Thakurain could not figure it out and her son and daughter-in-law left for the city to continue their life there.
Festival days are times for the family to congregate around each other. Pritam and Binita were due to join the family at the family home in the village and both arrived in time for the festivities associated with Holi, the Indian festival of colors. This is celebrated at the end of the Indian winter. Traditionally it is celebrated with dry color and pichkaris (a water squirter) are used to spray colored water on one another. Music, dancing and a bonfire of holika are also part of the celebration.
The city girl, bold and confident, transformed to a demure girl, eyes downcast and head down whenever she came to her in-law's place. Her mother in law was very nice to her so it had nothing to do with being fearful of the woman. Her father-in-law was someone she had challenged and spoken aggressively to, only once; on that occasion an intense sexual chemistry between the two of them had sprung up and neither of them could control, manage or come to terms with that intensity.
Her demureness had more to do with an attempt to blend in and not have to face that intensity which melted or the subsequent guilt which rankled in her. Fortunately for her, Thakur knew when to wait for and take his women, that having been the pattern with the maids of the house; and now with this new woman, his daughter-in-law, as well.
The days surrounding Holi are a mad melee of fun and games with an incessant flow of visitors and friends. As the special day itself comes closer, most of the youngsters play with colors and water even though one is supposed to do that only on the day of Holi itself.
And so it was with the day immediately before Holi. The haveli courtyard and rooms for visitors were overfull with cousins and friends of Pritam and his parents. Everyone was dressed in special clothes and so was Binita. She was wearing a ghagra choli (skirt and blouse) but this one was designed in the city and had a more daring cut and from fabrics different from the traditional ones used. The choli was practically backless with just two strings holding the front piece on her lovely succulent breasts. One string went behind the neck and the other string was along the bottom hem of the blouse. In the middle was an expanse of seductive skin, exposed to all, but for the chiffon dupatta used to cover it all. The gauze like dupatta did more to allure by hinting at what lay beneath.
As she laughed, joked and went about the house with friends and relatives, an occasional momentary slippage of the dupatta would give any person lucky enough to be around a view of her back. The front was not daringly cut, but yes, it was firm and supportive enough to hold up her breasts almost as if they were on offer. The motifs on the front of the blouse, while traditional, were arranged in a manner that visually accentuated the contours of her oh-so-suckable breasts.
None of this was lost on the Thakur who watched every move of his bahu, reminiscing of the time he had caressed that back and watched it weave and undulate as he rode her like a stallion, from behind. Or of those breasts, which in his mind were desperate to be released from the confines.
The boisterousness of Holi is the one occasion when men younger and older, and the girls and women flirt with each other outrageously. Some get drunk and touch, kiss and fondle -- unthinkable behavior on any other day. The girls respond rather shamelessly. And the saucier, perhaps those in their 30's, seduce without really intending to let the Romeos go the whole distance.
And Thakur watched this too, as Binita participated to the fullest and was the life and soul of happenings in the haveli that day. He saw the same sauciness and charm which he had encountered that first time she came to fight with him. It reminded him of the wild girl he had tamed rather than the intense girl who he had fucked on the next two occasions. His loins stirred as he started to want the saucy wanton woman in his daughter-in-law.
These last months when she was away, there was a new intensity and frequency in his sexual affairs with the maids with even the Thakurain coming in for some treatment. With all that, in the eye of his mind, each time it was Binita he was fucking. Everyone of them felt that change in intensity as he pounded them into the mattress, cushioning or ground below.
The Thakur's favorite among the bevy of maids was treated to his newly discovered oral skills. Soon enough the story had spread among a small circle and some of them made it a point to catch the Thakur's eye -- and more. And every one of them wondered what it was about.
During Holi, boisterousness and flirtation usually leads to some throwing of water and color and a general loss of control of the situation. Today was no different. Some youngster started off the riot by throwing water at someone else and soon out came the packets of color and pichkaris. The bolder among the boys approached Binita and with joyous shouts of "Bhabhi" and chased her to throw color and water at her.
Binita ran, laughing, out of breath, ducking in and out of corridors and rooms avoiding everyone skillfully, till she was cornered. As the youth with flushed face paused on finding her trapped, he took in the intoxicating sight of Binita with her dupatta askew and face radiant with smiles and a flushed look.
"Wait!" she said authoritatively. "Don't spoil my new dress. I will change and come down and then I will allow you to do what you want."
"Whatever I want?" asked the young man audaciously, his eyes sparkling.
"Yes, whatever!" she replied impishly.
He drew himself back, placing his bets on getting a chance at more aggressive flirting once she was down. He promised himself he would soak her blouse to reveal the skin below and get a good look at her breasts; and then who knows what that might lead to?
Binita was gone in a whirlwind of laughter and she ran up the steps towards her room to change into a white kurta set which she had saved up for this occasion. It is always white, and it might typically be an old set of clothes. The colors would show up well on the white but would be ruined for any normal use thereafter, and so the preference for old clothes to be used on Holi day.
While she had caught glimpses of her Babuji, the Thakur, and while she knew she would have enjoyed flirting with him, the true events between them inhibited her. What she didn't know was that Thakur had never really let her go out of sight today. She remained in his line of sight as he watched her flirt, play and caught glimpses of her back, her ankles and as much of the rest of her lovely persona as he could.
And he caught sight of her dashing up the stairs.
Her suitcase was on the low table next to the dresser and Binita was rummaging through her clothes all in a hurry to find the white kurta. She was startled when she felt a pair of hands grip her shoulders from behind. The scare quickly turned into a pounding heartbeat as she recognized the grip; it was Thakur. He had followed her upstairs.
Binita did not move. From her bent position she looked up and behind at him and smiled. But she stayed that way. Thakur placed his hand flat on the exposed skin of her back. As soon as she felt him touch her, she was reduced to molten. That is all it took for him to melt her. His large, rough hands on her soft, ready to receive skin.
A fingernail drew a line down her spine as he traced his way down her back right up to the edge of her skirt. Binita shuddered as the nail touched every single erogenous spot on its way. It was as if he was unzipping and opening out her sexuality with that fingernail.
"Aap mauka dhoondh rahe they, lagta hai," she said to him. (You seem to have been waiting for an opportunity).
"Haan," he replied, "Warna tum aati kahan ho." (Yes, otherwise you never come to me).
Both hands held her at the waist.
"Itni bhari ghar mey, koi dekh lega toh kya hoga?" she asked. (In such a full house, what if we get spotted?).
"Pehle toh kisi ne nahi dekha," he replied. (No one ever saw us before.)
He now lifted her skirt revealing her ass to him. There were those panties, ever an obstacle.
"Aise khullam khulla thodi hota hai," she countered. (It cannot be done so openly, can it?).
Her hands gripped the sides of the low table to steady herself.
"Toh chupke se aa jana, beti," he advised her. (So then come to me quietly).
"Aap ke paas aa kar mai chup nahi reh sakti, Babuji!" she said with a playful smile. (I cannot come to you and keep quiet).
She pulled down her panties and stamping with her feet got it off her legs.
"Jo bhi karna hai jaldi ki jiye, mujhe neeche bhi jaana hai, nahi toh koi dhoondhta aa jayega," she told him. (Do whatever you have to quickly, otherwise someone might come looking for me.)
With one hand on her hips, his other hand arranged the folds of his dhoti so his cock found a gap in the cloth. His erection had been ebbing and hardening all morning as he had taken in different sights of his daughter-in-law. But all her sauciness now had it in full rage.
Thakur straightened his back to thrust his cock forward. It was pointing upward in its blood-engorged firmness. He held it and lowered it, pointing to her ass. He laved it with the precum on his cockhead.
Binita shuddered as he touched her in unnamed zones from her ass to her cunt. She reached under to try guiding him. Yes, she wanted this manliness and perversely, found herself wondering how the man had failed to pass on this endowment to his son.
He leaned forward and with his teeth, pulled open the lower cord that held the blouse in place. Now the lower part of the blouse was hanging loose while the upper part stayed tethered around the neck. Thakur straightened up and guided his cock back into the vale between the asshceeks. This time his cock snagged in the outer lips of her cunt and he thrust forward to embed himself. While both of them were in an instant boil, the encounter itself was sudden and so neither was overly lubricated.
This was just as well, because the friction was immensely pleasurable to both. Their "Ah!" was in unison, almost orchestrated.
Binita laughed a small laugh and gripped the edge of the table hard and held her ass firm and upturned to him.
Thakur grunted and pulled back to thrust again. The bangles on her hands jangled as he fucked her. She was wearing a full hand which was how it was on festival days. But with his methodical thumping, the jangling became louder and followed the beat of his fucking.
She wished she had taken them off but instead of silence, she actually added to the noises with a series of "unhhs!" as Thakur changed his pace of fucking.
The man had started rapidly sliding in and out of her cunt luxuriating in the way her lips rode over his head. His hands slowly slid up her waist, up the sides of her torso and now the thumb was on her back while the four fingers gripped the side of her chest. This allowed his index finger to feel the mass of her breasts while the middle finger and ring finger teased her nipples.
"O, Babuji! Yes, maul my breasts and ride me like this. How I missed this a****lness!" she hissed through clenched teeth.
She shook her head from side to side as indescribable pleasure emanated from her breasts and as the occasional lunge from the cock touched a pleasure zone inside her pussy.
"Ah!" exhaled the Thakur with every thrust. And as he pulled back, he sucked in his breath through an open mouth, making a seething sound. The rhythm of the hiss of the seething intake and the Ah of the thrust followed a pattern as Thakur closed his eyes, gripped her torso and fucked with a need to finish quick. This was dangerous as Binita rightly pointed out, but he could not have waited another hour. Now that Babuji and bahu had talked about it, he would fix a tryst for a longer leisurely exploration of sexuality. But right now, he just needed to own her, mark her, pound her and fill her.
Binita started to convulse as her orgasm ripped through her. She brought up one hand to hold her lower tummy as she felt the thick cock in her womb, from the deep penetration. She could feel it throb and pulsate inside her through the stomach wall. An occasional twinge of pain came from his marauding cockhead touching a sensitive part deep in her.
Binita's legs gave way as the intensity of the orgasm caused her to buckle.
She let out a scream of desperate wanting when Thakur's cock slipped out of her cunt as she fell forward, her face now buried in the pile of clothes in the suitcase.
The cock smeared itself on her ass as it missed its target completely and Thakur lurched in an uncontrolled response to lack of the grip of her cunt.
Binita frantically reached for his cock and Thakur frantically grabbed at her hips. She was now completely face down and her ass in the air. Her cunt was vacant and throbbing and she needed urgently to be filled back.
"Haaaaaaaaaaanh!" (Yes) she bellowed when he sank back into her. The sensation of cumming which had built up in him had receded and he pounded into her with a vengeance to regain the lost peak. The brutality of his quest took her over the cliff and her pussy melted in a cascade of spasms. She came like she thought only men came; drenching and shuddering uncontrollably.
The furniture groaned and squeaked as it slipped from its position on the floor and closed the gap with the wall. The suitcase overbalanced and threatened to fall to one side. Binita clung on to the suitcase and table and held her cunt steady and open for Thakur to bludgeon her into submission through the now impending orgasm. Thakur shuddered and came in torrents, as he most usually did with Binita. After two thrusts, he left her hips, placed his hands on the wall and thrust his cock deep into her and held there. The next few spasms of his cock were from the spewing from his cockhead and not from any thrusting. He stayed embedded and only when the pleasure threatened to recede completely did he pull back and thrust back in and hold again. That thrusting pulled back his skin and the cockhead swelled up and he was able to retain the fullness of his erection for another moment during which he could stay embedded. Another dribble of sperm and another thrust back. With each successive thrust, the cockhead swelled a little lesser and lesser, till finally he had come to rest on his daughter-in-law's sexy broad ass.
For Binita the flooding surge of warmth brought out deep sighs and screams in the throat. Her womb filled with this wonderful man's sumptuous outpourings. She felt his seed deep in her and she held steady as he plunged and held himself in more than once. His pleasure was so important to her, she just wanted him to savor every tremor of his and for her to receive every little spend from his system.
As the rapidly shrinking cock slipped away, Binita found herself unsupported as the Thakur had now placed his hands on the wall. She fell over, suitcase and all. She now was on her back, half inside her suitcase, looking up at Thakur who was standing still, hands on the wall. Thankfully for Binita, the ghagra skirt fell back to cover her, though her ass was still not covered.
She watched Thakur, lost in the trance of his experience, except for the occasional shuddering aftershock of his orgasm. He threw his head back, his hand reached for his cock and he gave himself a squeeze through a handful of cloth, squeezing out the never ending dribbles and yet drying his cock.
He looked down at his Binita, lying in a heap amongst clothes, the lower part of her blouse open and showing part of her breasts. Her eyes looked deep into his. They were soulmates. Her hand roamed over her the lower belly with the womb within and she palmed herself there, where he had deposited copious volumes of his seed. An indication of ownership.
She reached up inside his dhoti and squeeze-pinched the inside of his thigh. "Naughty man!" she pronounced and got up.
"Chalo, let me change," she said, signaling an end to the episode.
Thakur turned and checked the front of his dhoti and left. As Binita lifted her suitcase onto the low table, she froze. There at the window, was Maaji, Thakur's wife, her mother-in-law. Her hand was over her mouth and her bosom was heaving. When she was sure her husband had left the scene she entered the room and stood directly in front of Binita.
Anastasia
- 21.04.2022
- 10
- 0
