Awakening The Sacred Gate to Supreme Bliss Tantri
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The Awakening (chapter 1) free porn video
The Awakening:
Chapter 1
There are three remarkable things about this story. The first is the awakening of manhood. How a boy, whose age we’ll keep under wraps just in case people with higher moral conscience come banging on my door, became a man.
How human imagination can open floodgates of thoughts and these thoughts culminate into elaborate dreams. The second remarkable thing would be how this imagination has no bounds. How it opens the gates to such immense possibilities without us realizing that sometimes all it takes is just a push!
Before we start with how events of this story unfold, I’d like to tell you that the names, places and events in this story are being fictionalized. The real reason not being that they maybe identified, but because someday these people may want to stand for elections and unnecessarily they maybe scrutinized for just being a bit horny!
So this boy whom we’re talking about is a young boy and student in an elite school at Delhi. Sitting on the last bench of the class certainly has its advantages. One does not know whether you’re staring at the black board or the teacher’s fine shapely boobs and anyways when you’re sitting so far back in the classroom, the sound that reaches your ear is quite incomprehensible, so might as well give imagination a chance to succeed. The second advantage being of gently massaging your dick without others noticing. Ah! The joy of rocking the hardened organ to and fro, while holding it from its tip. Then, to hold the shaft firmly in the palm of your hand, imagining the teacher is holding it for you. You’ve guessed it right; I had a huge teacher fetish.
Just imagine one of those ladies who torment and scrutinize you in the class for not knowing anything or sometimes knowing way beyond their capabilities, on their knees right in front of you begging you to give them the hardened piece of human meat, the organ of male intellect (for a large population, yes), the little thing dangling in between David’s statue that astonishes the world (primarily for it’s size I suppose. Michelangelo couldn’t have afforded the ire of Italian men for giving the ideas to their womenfolk that big dicks can be there and can be desired. Glorification of tiny pinkies at it’s best!), the penis. It is certainly exciting to imagine her holding it firmly in between her palm and inches away from her mouth, which bears a smirk, a lustful smile and wets at the thought of being violated soon. Of the many teachers I had in school, one in particular was ravishing. My biology teacher!
She must be in her early 30s or so I presume. She has a nice curvy figure, which gets accentuated in a saree. A waist that isn’t protuberant, yet fullish in the true sense of the word, a creamy complexion with a lovely navel visible just above the string of her saree. The boobs, the most-often-looked-at body part of a lady, were a treat to our preying eyes! Boys used to discuss and get fascinated by them. They were drawn in all manners of obscenity on the boys’ toilet’s walls with extremely vivid and descriptive narration of what these horny little younglings would want to do to them. I had similar thoughts and they did keep me occupied during Mamta ma’am’s class. It was a treat to watch her move around. Her sexy butt swayed from one end to the other while she walked. I could imagine how the two round big butts with a lovely crack in between would appear when she’d sit on all fours, and then I’d gently part those big butts, those lovely smooth and silky globes and reveal the tiny ass crack and gently feel the hole with the tip of my finger caressing it. How it’d turn her on. How the thought would turn me on! And then she’d turn and her chest, beautified by those lovely pair, I all its glory would be in front of us. To be devoured by our eyes. Sometimes a little pokiness would be seen through her blouse, and that day I used to jerk my dick sore. Imagining her tit, her stiffened little brown tit as it used to strain through her blouse, wanting to be touched, to be twisted, to be licked and bitten! But alas, all it ever did was stay confined in the blouse and give horny little boys like us a raging hard-on that used to be hard to conceal if she ever asked us to stand and answer. Sometimes her boobs used to strain through her kameez and they used to appear so lovely from the side. Nice round mounds heaving up and down as she breathed. The roundness trying to burst through the little cloth, which tried to contain it. I always wondered her size. I guessed a 30c maybe. Or maybe not! If only I could just put my hand in there and ease her discomfort and take those lovely melons out for some fresh air. I wish! I had heard she was a divorced lady. Apparently her husband had left her a couple of years back. The reasons were rife amongst us boys from her husband’s dick size to her being adulterous (which we all sincerely hoped she was) to what not. But these were all speculations. The truth behind her matrimonial disharmony was like the global economic meltdown. Everybody seems to have a theory about it, but nobody really knows what’s the truth!
With my mind occupied with thoughts of pure devotion for the woman’s heavenly figure, as I’d put it and thoughts of simple lust, as the world may put it, it does become quite evident that my answer sheets in biology always carried her boobs! Two big round zeroes! I sucked at biology. While I was always wondering about her biology, the flora and fauna she was busy describing in class always went above me.
So, once on a parent-teacher’s meeting my mom asked her to give me private tuitions. I couldn’t have been more thrilled. The best thing she did after giving birth to me! And the lovely gorgeous agreed. She smiled at me and ruffled my head while looking me in the eye. The first time I saw her face so clearly (it is ironical how less we appreciate the face when presented with a lovely set of boobs). It looked so beautiful as she radiated. Her eyes looked deep, with kajal lining it, which gave it a sense of depth. They were big and probing and something in them just made me lust after her even more. Her hairs were flowing, with black locks falling from sides of her forehead. The large red bindi adorned her face and her lips bore the same colour. They appeared to glow and the gloss across them shimmered as she smiled. “Arrey (oh) why not Mrs. Sharma, I’d love to take him for private tuitions. He does need some help. He is a bright student, but I do not where his thoughts keep him all day. Pata nahi (don’t know) where he keeps staring! Kyun beta (so son) you’re ready for some tuitions?”
Beta!! Seriously! She thinks she is too old for me huh! If only I could climb on top of her in her own bed, I’d show her who is who’s beta! “ Haan Haan Mamta ma’am. Sure why not. So when do we start?” I replied with eagerness.
I’d love to narrate the rest. Your response would be immensely appreciated and would act as quite an impetus! Criticism too is welcome. Wait for more.. the real bit is coming through!
Chapter 1
There are three remarkable things about this story. The first is the awakening of manhood. How a boy, whose age we’ll keep under wraps just in case people with higher moral conscience come banging on my door, became a man.
How human imagination can open floodgates of thoughts and these thoughts culminate into elaborate dreams. The second remarkable thing would be how this imagination has no bounds. How it opens the gates to such immense possibilities without us realizing that sometimes all it takes is just a push!
Before we start with how events of this story unfold, I’d like to tell you that the names, places and events in this story are being fictionalized. The real reason not being that they maybe identified, but because someday these people may want to stand for elections and unnecessarily they maybe scrutinized for just being a bit horny!
So this boy whom we’re talking about is a young boy and student in an elite school at Delhi. Sitting on the last bench of the class certainly has its advantages. One does not know whether you’re staring at the black board or the teacher’s fine shapely boobs and anyways when you’re sitting so far back in the classroom, the sound that reaches your ear is quite incomprehensible, so might as well give imagination a chance to succeed. The second advantage being of gently massaging your dick without others noticing. Ah! The joy of rocking the hardened organ to and fro, while holding it from its tip. Then, to hold the shaft firmly in the palm of your hand, imagining the teacher is holding it for you. You’ve guessed it right; I had a huge teacher fetish.
Just imagine one of those ladies who torment and scrutinize you in the class for not knowing anything or sometimes knowing way beyond their capabilities, on their knees right in front of you begging you to give them the hardened piece of human meat, the organ of male intellect (for a large population, yes), the little thing dangling in between David’s statue that astonishes the world (primarily for it’s size I suppose. Michelangelo couldn’t have afforded the ire of Italian men for giving the ideas to their womenfolk that big dicks can be there and can be desired. Glorification of tiny pinkies at it’s best!), the penis. It is certainly exciting to imagine her holding it firmly in between her palm and inches away from her mouth, which bears a smirk, a lustful smile and wets at the thought of being violated soon. Of the many teachers I had in school, one in particular was ravishing. My biology teacher!
She must be in her early 30s or so I presume. She has a nice curvy figure, which gets accentuated in a saree. A waist that isn’t protuberant, yet fullish in the true sense of the word, a creamy complexion with a lovely navel visible just above the string of her saree. The boobs, the most-often-looked-at body part of a lady, were a treat to our preying eyes! Boys used to discuss and get fascinated by them. They were drawn in all manners of obscenity on the boys’ toilet’s walls with extremely vivid and descriptive narration of what these horny little younglings would want to do to them. I had similar thoughts and they did keep me occupied during Mamta ma’am’s class. It was a treat to watch her move around. Her sexy butt swayed from one end to the other while she walked. I could imagine how the two round big butts with a lovely crack in between would appear when she’d sit on all fours, and then I’d gently part those big butts, those lovely smooth and silky globes and reveal the tiny ass crack and gently feel the hole with the tip of my finger caressing it. How it’d turn her on. How the thought would turn me on! And then she’d turn and her chest, beautified by those lovely pair, I all its glory would be in front of us. To be devoured by our eyes. Sometimes a little pokiness would be seen through her blouse, and that day I used to jerk my dick sore. Imagining her tit, her stiffened little brown tit as it used to strain through her blouse, wanting to be touched, to be twisted, to be licked and bitten! But alas, all it ever did was stay confined in the blouse and give horny little boys like us a raging hard-on that used to be hard to conceal if she ever asked us to stand and answer. Sometimes her boobs used to strain through her kameez and they used to appear so lovely from the side. Nice round mounds heaving up and down as she breathed. The roundness trying to burst through the little cloth, which tried to contain it. I always wondered her size. I guessed a 30c maybe. Or maybe not! If only I could just put my hand in there and ease her discomfort and take those lovely melons out for some fresh air. I wish! I had heard she was a divorced lady. Apparently her husband had left her a couple of years back. The reasons were rife amongst us boys from her husband’s dick size to her being adulterous (which we all sincerely hoped she was) to what not. But these were all speculations. The truth behind her matrimonial disharmony was like the global economic meltdown. Everybody seems to have a theory about it, but nobody really knows what’s the truth!
With my mind occupied with thoughts of pure devotion for the woman’s heavenly figure, as I’d put it and thoughts of simple lust, as the world may put it, it does become quite evident that my answer sheets in biology always carried her boobs! Two big round zeroes! I sucked at biology. While I was always wondering about her biology, the flora and fauna she was busy describing in class always went above me.
So, once on a parent-teacher’s meeting my mom asked her to give me private tuitions. I couldn’t have been more thrilled. The best thing she did after giving birth to me! And the lovely gorgeous agreed. She smiled at me and ruffled my head while looking me in the eye. The first time I saw her face so clearly (it is ironical how less we appreciate the face when presented with a lovely set of boobs). It looked so beautiful as she radiated. Her eyes looked deep, with kajal lining it, which gave it a sense of depth. They were big and probing and something in them just made me lust after her even more. Her hairs were flowing, with black locks falling from sides of her forehead. The large red bindi adorned her face and her lips bore the same colour. They appeared to glow and the gloss across them shimmered as she smiled. “Arrey (oh) why not Mrs. Sharma, I’d love to take him for private tuitions. He does need some help. He is a bright student, but I do not where his thoughts keep him all day. Pata nahi (don’t know) where he keeps staring! Kyun beta (so son) you’re ready for some tuitions?”
Beta!! Seriously! She thinks she is too old for me huh! If only I could climb on top of her in her own bed, I’d show her who is who’s beta! “ Haan Haan Mamta ma’am. Sure why not. So when do we start?” I replied with eagerness.
I’d love to narrate the rest. Your response would be immensely appreciated and would act as quite an impetus! Criticism too is welcome. Wait for more.. the real bit is coming through!
Vera
- 11.09.2020
- 24
- 0
