My Daughter My Lover free porn video

I listen to the last, fading strains of the lullaby for my baby boy as his mother rocks him to sleep. From my position on the bed, all I can see is the silhouette of mother and son, related in more ways than one. The light outside filters in through the windows, profiling the nude body of the Goddess who bore my son.She sets him down on his cradle, and I hear him start to cry, only to be soothed for the sudden loss of warmth by his mother’s loving pats into sound sleep. Convinced that the little one is truly asleep, his mother adjusts the blanket and looks one last time at her child.Then she turns to me with a smile that I have realized I can’t live without. “He has all your features, Daddy.”I embrace her as she settles on the bed, right on top of me. We kiss for some time, just savoring the feel of the other’s lips on ours. Hers, soft and red, are so delicious that I often wonder how it is that I was fated to enjoy my own daughter. Sometimes, I think I will wake up and find that it was all a wonderful dream, but her weight against mine tells me that it isn’t. The scent of her body, the heat of her loins, the tickling of her hair… It is all real.My daughter. My lover. That’s the reality.Noticing my thoughtful expression, my daughter Poornima draws up against me, placing her elbows on my chest and resting her beautiful face on her palms. She nibbles on my nose for a couple of seconds, before dropping her hands to her sides and downing her face into my chest.”What are you thinking, Dad?”I kiss her forehead lovingly. The forehead that I had kissed many times as a father – the forehead that now belonged to me, her ‘husband.'”If someone had told me three years ago, that I would be living like this with my daughter, I would have clobbered him. And now…”Flashback.The plane took off, and I sighed, waving like a little child at the lifting bird. For the seventh time in eleven years,

I was seeing my wife off to her nursing station at a distant hospital in Saudi Arabia. And in spite of the fact that we had hardly been together for the last ten-fifteen years, I missed her terribly. I loved her as much as our daughter Poornima did.I could never understand my wife Anita’s motivation for looking for a job abroad, especially when the family property that I had inherited as an only child and my own income as a freelance writer for movies were more than enough for an above middle-class lifestyle. She was adamant – she had studied nursing, and she did not want to let it go waste. I allowed her.On this particular day, though, it seemed to me that I was more expressive about my sorrow than my nineteen year-old daughter was. That was strange, because I had always had the impression that she loved her mother more, evidenced by her joy when Anita came home almost every year. Maybe it was just resignation, I told myself, and perhaps a little of anger.The anger I could empathize with – Anita had missed our anniversary this year, and she would be missing Neem’s (my nickname for her) birthday the third week. And as much as I wanted to rail at her and command her to leave her goddamned job in that goddamned nation, I couldn’t. I knew how much it meant to her, and I didn’t want to be the villain in her life.It was Poornima who broke our silence on the way home. “I don’t want a party.”I pretended not to know what she was talking about. “What party?”She gave me a look that was meant to say, You can never fool me, Dad, I know you too well. I smiled at her and ruffled her hair. Silken and smooth, it was jet-black and the envy of the hairdressers at the corner of our locality.”I mean my birthday party – I know you have been planning one – you always do – and as much as I really appreciate it, I don’t want to spend the last birthday in my teens with a bunch of giggling idiots who think that real fun is a cup of Coke and a piece of cake.”And what do you want instead of the party, my dear daughter?”

“Just some time alone with my father… We hardly spend any quality time other than dinner together. I would rather spend one of my most special birthdays with my handsome hunk of a father.”I have to make a slight clarification here – they say beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder, and I decided that her eyes needed some serious testing. Hunk would never be synonymous with Rajiv Matthew, and vice versa was just as true. But I didn’t want to burst her bubble, so I just ruffled her hair some more. I agreed that I wouldn’t plan the party…At that time, I had thought she wasn’t serious. It was only when she pestered me for two whole days that I got it into my thick head that she really wasn’t too keen on a party, and instead, wanted to waste the day on her dear dad. I wouldn’t complain – I loved her company, and save for my wife, all the family I had.Two days passed. Anita had called upon her arrival at the Saudi capital, and promised to call again in a week’s time.And then… The atmosphere in our house was suddenly saturated by a strange kind of monsoon. Of the sexual kind.People in the US, and probably the Europe, wouldn’t find anything strange in short, scanty dresses at night time, but out here in conservative India, girls are brought up believing that modesty is tantamount to character, and I don’t differ from that view of thinking. While I am an open-minded fellow, it’s always been my contention that family values viz. Decency and modesty are intrinsic to our way of life.On the other hand, being a single parent makes it difficult to lay down the rules – Anita’s absence was often for so long that it almost made me feel like a single parent – especially to an only child, and that too, a girl as well-behaved as my daughter. I was proud of her; she had that mixture of inner beauty and outer innocence that is so lacking among the rest of the youth who look to channels like MCM and FTV for guidance.

So, even though I was a little alarmed when I walked into her room to wake her up the third morning, only to find her having slept in an old shirt of mine and her panties, I decided to say nothing about it. It was, after all, the summer, and Indian summers, as anyone who has been in India at this time of the year knows, can get pretty hot. The shirt had ridden up her flat stomach, and now lay just a few inches below her breasts.I was disturbed to find that it was getting a rise out of me. And it wasn’t one of anger, either.I suppose I could excuse myself with the two years of abstinence from sex – the last time Anita had visited, we had been too busy visiting relatives that we hadn’t had time for anything else – and the sight of a young, rich body would definitely be antagonistic to platonic thoughts, but then again, I realized it was not just lust I was feeling. Not the mere physical attraction – even as I stared at her long legs, with their supple thighs and dainty feet, I knew the attraction went deeper.Far deeper.Thankfully, I woke my daughter up without revealing the tumult of emotions raging inside my head. She smiled at me as she stretched, obviously expecting me to say something about the lack of clothing she wore to bed, but she didn’t look too disappointed either when I ignored the bait. Instead, I just kissed her on her forehead and asked her to get her ass out of bed.That seemed to have set the precedent. In fact, it set the pace for the descent.Poornima took my silence to mean that I was okay with her independence, and given her maturity and tastefulness when in public, I really couldn’t find fault with her. On the other hand, when I found her asleep in her underwear a week later, in just her bra and panties – I knew I had to talk it out with her. Unfortunately, I never found the heart to do so.”Machamma went home,” she said one day.Machamma was our maidservant. “It isn’t noon yet,” I asked, puzzled. “Isn’t she well?”

“I sent her home. For good. She wanted a raise, and I told her she didn’t deserve the amount she claimed. She started shouting at me, accusing me of being… A bad girl, but I guess I lost it when she called you a cheapskate. After what you spent to save her husband. The bitch-“”Language, Neem,” I warned. That was the first time I had heard her call someone that.”Oops! Sorry about that.”I nodded. Not that Machamma did not deserve the insult – she was a lazy busybody, and no one knew it better than she did. She flaunted her laziness, that woman, and quite frankly, it made my blood boil that she had had the nerve to call my daughter a slut. Neem was as beautiful as anyone could be, and that spoke more of her compassionate and loving nature than her evergreen face or the fantastic structure of her body. A body that I was increasingly becoming very aware of.”Guess i’ll just have to put out an ad for another Machamma,” I sighed.”You don’t have to, you know. I could manage the chores myself.””You sure?””Of course. It’s just the two of us, and with a little help from you, I bet I can finish the tasks in half as much time as Machamma.” Seeing the doubtful expression on my face, she gave her trump card. “In case you haven’t noticed, Daddy, I am a grown woman. In a couple of years, I will probably be having my own husband and kids.” She grinned at me. “Then again, I guess you have noticed it, haven’t you?”I blushed slightly – of that I am sure – but I must also add that I recovered my composure quickly. “It’s hard to miss, Neem, ‘specially when you walk around next to nothing.””Not next to nothing,” she corrected. “I do cover my top, don’t I? It’s just these poor legs of mine that need some air-conditioning from time to time.””Poor?””You know what I mean…””Right.” Realizing that this might lead to an awkward turn in the conversation, I changed the subject. “So what you are saying is that we don’t have to look for a replacement for Machamma?””Yes. We’ve got me instead.””

My little housewife,” I quipped.She nodded her head. “Your little housewife.” It struck me that she did lay a little more emphasis than was necessary on that last syllable than was necessary, but I let it pass.Poornima took to her chores readily. It was vacation time for her, and since I didn’t work by the clock, there would be no strain on her. She was a good cook, far better than my wife, and she packed a mean broom. Everytime I watched her dust our porch or clean our driveway, I felt a pang of the impending loss when she would get married. I was going to miss my little girl terribly at that time.On the other hand, Poornima seemed to have no intention of curbing her ‘open’ attitude towards clothing around the house. It was quite a normal sight for me to see her in just her underwear and an apron puttering around the kitchen for breakfast and dinner, and used to it by now, I wasn’t so troubled by the reactions that I got. She hadn’t noticed anything so far, I told myself, so that put me in the clear.The Thursday night prior to her birthday, I attended the stag party of a colleague’s son, and obviously, being held at a neighborhood pub, the booze flowed freely. Since my house was less than a five-minute jog from the place, I allowed myself the luxury of getting saturated with the ethylated spirit. Three glasses, and I was seeing twins of everyone.It took a couple of my friends to get me to my gate, and they staggered off as soon as my daughter opened the door. She was a vision of loveliness, hair still fresh from the recent shower, body in a bathrobe that had been conservative four years ago and was now close to revealing her feminine charms. I took in the sight of those long legs, exposed to the moonlight

And to her father’s dirty eyes, and I guess in my drunken state, I mumbled comments hardly suitable for any father.Poornima supported me to the door, then went back to lock the gate. She then came back and seeing that I was still stable, took some time off to lock up the rest of the place. Then, right before my eyes, she took off her robe, and even in the inebriated state that I was in, it registered instantly upon my senses that she was wearing lingerie. Not the usual, cotton, ‘girlie’ stuff, but the real thing, the ones that I have seen on FTV.Perhaps I am exaggerating, or perhaps not. I do not know how these images still remain in my memory, for I am a very weak drunk, and it was a wonder I hadn’t passed out on the floor already. In fact, I did collapse on the floor – but before I did, as even Poornima confirmed the fact, I must have clutched at my daughter. My hands missed her shoulders, but not the swell of her breast. Poornima told me the next day that I fell on the carpet, my face buried in the bra that I had torn off her chest.The next thing I do remember convincingly was a headache, and the pain in the eyes as the rays of the morning sun woke me up. For a few seconds, I was disoriented, the only thing coming to mind being the regret that I had probably made a drunken ass of myself.It was then that I felt the soft, satiny hands across my waist. Out of the haze that still clouded my eyes, I looked beside me – and damn near had a heart attack!Her right arm thrown over me, another placed where my head had cradled, wearing just her bottoms, was Poornima. Frantically, I looked around for any telltale signs – anything – that would give me the assurance that we had done nothing the previous night. Unfortunately, her breasts were too prominent for me to ignore, and my eyes fell on them.Nemesis!Hundreds of tiny red spots, like love-bites, dotted her tits. The nipples still looked erect, and throbbed lightly in a dullish red hue. It was as if I had ravished her like a mad man.For the first time, I was also aware of the musky odor of a woman in the room. Automatically, my eyes fell to her crotch.

The material of her lingerie bottom was still soaking wet, and her juices – perhaps mine too – had spread on to the bedsheet as well.As if on cue, Poornima sighed in her sleep and turned over so that she was facing the opposite direction. Her ass was clearly visible to me now, and it didn’t seem as if I had ignored that soft spot of hers either. On either ass cheek were impressions of a male hand, redder and sharper than the bite marks on her breasts.What had I done?I buried my head in my hands, and the tears were flowing when my daughter’s soft hands cupped my face and raised it to meet hers. “Why are you crying, Dad?”For a few seconds, I did not reply. I stared at the beautiful face, even more beautiful in the freshness of the morning, into her sharp, black eyes; I stared into their depths, wondering if I would ever find forgiveness in them. She was acting as if nothing had happened, but sooner or later, she would know. She would know what a pervert she had for a father. She wouldn’t remember our pleasant times together any more. Whenever she thought of me, it would be as the ‘asshole’ who took advantage of her.I broke down again, but Poornima, darling child, would have none of it. Fiercely, she yanked my face up again, and although concern expressed itself in her eyes, her tone was one of indignation. “What is the matter, father?””I am sorry,” I managed to say.”For what?”Didn’t she know already, or had she really slept through whatever it had been that I had done to her? “I think I raped you last night.”Poornima laughed in my face. Without any inhibitions, she pointed to her breasts, giving me the invitation to look at them once more. It was only the emotional trauma that I was feeling that kept me

From getting an erection, but I did feel my heart beat faster, and I did recognize that strange sensation in my tummy that told me that I was head over heels for my daughter. The physical sights were proving to be a major stimulus for my long-suppressed lust.”You mean this? You’ve got nothing to apologize for, Daddy! It was great! See – I even came because of what you did to my breasts.””Your breasts? You mean I didn’t fuck you?” I didn’t know for sure if I sounded relieved or disappointed. Neem shook her head, and I heaved a sigh of relief.”What was that for?” my daughter asked. Then she giggled. “You should watch your language, Daddy!”I smiled back at her. Thank God I hadn’t actually completed an intercourse with her. The adulation of her breasts was still as taboo, but it was definitely less harmful than going all out with her. “It’s just that I am glad things did not go any further.”For a split second, I thought I saw disappointment on her face, but my daughter immediately regained her sense of humor, and placing a hand on her panties, she giggled furiously. “Shall I get you another bottle of hard drinks?””So that you can get me drunk enough to go to bed? No way!” I was sure she was joking, and I responded in kind. “All I do want right now is to know what happened yesterday night when you I came home – all I remember of that is being dead drunk, reeking of alcohol, then you carried me into the house, took off your robe… Then I fell, I guess, if my memory serves me right.””You did fall,” agreed Poornima, “But you tried to catch me for support, and ended up tearing off my bra. You just dropped to sleep on the floor, my bra clutched in your hands and your face buried in it. You were so out that it was a struggle to get you to bed – and I must admit I was more than tempted to leave you in the hall itself.

I didn’t bother to cover myself, though, because there was no other eyes to see me naked.”I left you on the bed, then decided that I would have to remove your clothes. After they came off, I stared at your physique (she smiled broadly at this point, and I surmised she was just adding this to get a rise out of me). As I was turning to leave, you said something, and when I came closer, you just caught my hand and turned over in your sleep.”Rather than fuss about the whole toothless issue by waking you up – and that would have been something, what with your hangover – I figured I might as well join you. I laid down with you, and sleep came a few minutes later.”She paused at this point, obviously waiting for an invitation from me to go on. A smile was curled at the corners of her lips as she tried to make her report as objective as possible, though I must add, with little success. She seemed to be pretty satisfied about whatever had happened. I nodded, and motioned for her to continue.”Then, around four in the morning, I woke up, feeling a little thirsty, and had a glass of water. You had moved closer to where I had slept, but I thought nothing more of it until I realized that you were so close that I could feel your breath. After a few seconds, you threw your arms around me and pulled me closer, into a bear hug.”I tried to get out of the vice-like grip, but then you said something like ‘Oh, Anita,’ or something, and before I knew it, your hands were on my breasts – should I continue?””Let’s hear the whole sordid thing,” I said grimly.”There’s nothing sordid about the whole thing,” she corrected. “You started to knead my breasts, and as much as I knew it was wrong, it felt good. You have a way with your hands, Daddy, and if Mom has not complimented you on that, let me then be the first to do so.””She has – let’s leave it at that!”

“Sure thing. Anyway, so here I was, your daughter, enjoying getting felt up by my own father, and I was thinking like what more could happen. You were still dead to the world, and I wasn’t sure how much I could hold on before I gave in, and then, the unbelievable happened. You started to suckle on them!”This actually brought an embarrassed blush to my daughter’s face, but she continued. “After that, my biggest worry was that you shouldn’t wake up too soon. It was like heaven, to have you eat my tits like that… Even masturbation hasn’t felt half as good. To top it all, you used your hands to play with my pussy. I guess that’s when I really lost it. I was quite surprised – and I admit – quite relieved to see that you had slept through all my sounds, and I almost fainted when you started on my other breast.”By the time you finished up, I had drenched the sheets with my … And I knew I had to go back to the room before things went even further, but sex (she grinned when I balked at her use of the word) had worn me out, and I just fell asleep beside you. That’s the true story, Daddy! We didn’t do anything else.”It took me all of two minutes to completely assimilate everything from the incident to her account of it to her expressions to her use of various words like ‘masturbation, sex, pussy…’, the latter speaking of a sexual knowledge I hadn’t anticipated. My only redemption came from the fact that we hadn’t completed penetration. I swore I would never touch hard drinks in my life again. It had been too close, and God forbid, it could have ended another way.”Well,” I tried to make light of the situation. “At least it was good for you. I missed the whole show.””Daddy!” she answered in a patronizing tone. “I doubt you would have done anything if you had been awake.” That was good – she still trusted me. For further reassurance, she reached over and embraced me, unmindful of the fact that neither of us had anything above the waist by way of clothing. Guiltily, I felt my cock jump up as her breasts flattened against my chest, while she threw her arms around my neck. I relished the touch of her skin against mine, and although I have already admitted that there was a sexual reaction, there was also a psychological closure that I felt.With her head on my shoulders, Poornima shocked me by whispering naughtily, “Besides, it wasn’t just good, it was terrific.”

Before I could react, she pulled her face away and pecked me on my lips. It was a short, instantaneous kiss, but I felt a little of something extra when her tongue darted out at the last moment to tease my lips, and then she withdrew from my embrace as quickly as she had drawn me into it. The smile was still there on her lips, but at such a close, intimate distance, there was a sensuous hue in the pink of her lips.The father in me took over. “Go back to your room, and get dressed.”Wordlessly, she stood up and stretched, her taut body furthering my fantasies. I watched her ass, almost nakedly exposed, wiggle as she trotted like a cat to the door. Abruptly, she turned around, gave me a flying kiss, grinned and then continued on her way out.The dawn of the Sunday promised a bright, sunny day with plenty of breeze; the weather seemed to be tailor-made for celebrating the last year of her teens. After returning home from a particularly long shopping spree alone, the details of which she wouldn’t divulge, Poornima had once again insisted the previous evening that I drop all plans for any birthday bash. I promised her I would.After the mass, which Poornima attended with a happiness I didn’t understand – she had always questioned our faith – we drove to the nearest movie theater and took in the latest blockbuster. I could sense envious eyes on me as I escorted the beautiful woman of whose birth I had been a cause almost

Two decades ago, and although it troubled me as a father that she should evoke such popularity by mere presence, male teostosteronal ego prided me that she had, indeed, chosen me as her man for the day.Poornima then surprised me by asking for the driving keys. This was getting to be a day of novelties; my daughter had always preferred that I drive her around. Dressed in the traditional gold-bordered ‘mundu-neri’, she was a sight to behold – an absolute Goddess. As opposed to the latest trend in her attire, this one was actually downright decent. The perfect homely girl.At the same time, if you thought her conservativeness did anything to curb the feelings I had for her, you would be as disappointed as I was. Try as I did, I was drawn to the glowing life beside me, and I wanted to be so much more than a father to her. I didn’t ever want her to spend her life with another man, for no one could love her – anybody, for that matter – as much as I did. And by the same measure was the taboo of revealing that love.A lot of people make the mistake that sex is the 75% factor in their lives. I disagree – all that mattered to me as I watched my daughter handle the wheel deftly as we drove towards the beach resort of Kovalam was her companionship. At that moment, I would have given anything in the world just for that tiny flicker of hope that she could be my soulmate. Anita was the as far from my mind as she was in person.We drove up to one of the most expensive five-stars in the locality, complete with valet parking and white-collared personal welcomes.

It was obvious from the way the valet and the doorman greeted my daughter that she had been here before. It occurred to me that the entire date was costing a lot of mind, and I made it a point to talk to my daughter, at a later date of course, about watching her pocket-money. She had saved like a squirrel since she could walk, but the opulence was so obvious that I had little doubt she had any money left.It took Poornima all of five seconds to be handed over a key of some sort by the smiling clerk. I was confused. “What’s with the key? I thought the lunch hall was over there -“”It is, but that’s not where we are going to eat. Come on, I booked us a suite. Just for the two of us.””A suite! Do you have any idea how much that costs?”She smiled disarmingly. “I didn’t until I saw the bill yesterday evening.””So this was your shopping?””Not all of it – bought a couple of dresses for celebrating my birthday.”I looked around – as far as I could see, the clothes she had with her were the ones she were wearing. “I don’t see anything…””It’s already in the room. God, you are such a worry wart!”Ignoring my protestations, Poornima dragged me to the elevator, and we rode up to the fourth floor. Confidently, with a surety that betrayed her familiarity with the place, she walked me over to the farthest door in the corridor.”Voila!”It was a magnificent room; I was speechless. Large and roomy, with a pink-drowned king-size bed against one wall, long, swirling curtains against full-length glass doors that opened into a balcony which in turn overlooked the sprays – it was a room from my memories of a long-enjoyed honeymoon. And in spite of the vastness of the room, it had a sense of intimacy about it.Suddenly, I was not so sure I wanted to spend the day in this room with my daughter.Even before I had a chance to protest, Poornima pulled me inside and locked the door. She looked at me with a satisfied grin, obviously pleased that the reservations had not failed to flatter.”Like it?””Excellent! But it must have cost you a bundle… You shouldn’t have,” I chided.

She refused to let that dampen her enthusiasm. “It did, and I am sure that it will be worth it by the end of the day. Just relax, Daddy, and enjoy yourselves. It’s not every day that you find yourself in a five-thousand-rupee-a-day suite.””Five -“She cut me off with a finger on my lips. “Hush,” she commanded gently, but firmly. “Let’s talk about this no more, okay? Another day, yes, but not today.””Another day,” I promised, “Not today.””Thanks Daddy,” she squealed, and gave me a hug. The sweet perfume of her body wafted in through my nostrils, and I held on to her as if I hadn’t seen her in years.A knock at the door destroyed what could have been a beautiful moment between father and daughter. It was room-service, a young boy with a full jug of lemonade. I thanked the boy, tipped him and turned around to see a rueful Poornima. Apparently, she too must have felt that a positive moment was cut short. Still, being the Neem that she’s always been, she smiled quickly.”Why don’t you take it into the balcony, Daddy? I’ll join you just as soon as I change into something lighter.”When she came out a minute later, I damn near dropped the glass I had been drinking from. Nothing she had worn around the house had revealed so much – all she had on was a tiger-string bikini, and God knows where she bought it – and the triangles that were supposed to cover her nipples stuck to their task and nothing else.The dark pink of the areolas could be discerned around the edges, and when she twirled around in the suit, I could almost see the rise of the buds. The bottom wasn’t any better either –

I could make out the black tuft of her pubic hair peeking out from the sides of the material. And although I wouldn’t swear to it, I caught a glimpse of the pink lips of her pussy!My attention was not missed by Poornima, who had a wry smile on her face when our eyes met. I realized I had been caught checking her out, but she said nothing; instead, she walked over, gave me a daughterly kiss on the cheeks and settled down on the seat next to mine.It was sheer torture to see her sitting there, so close to being nude there was just a hair’s literal breadth between that and what she wore now, and to make matters worse, the little minx crossed her legs as she checked out a magazine that the hotel provided of its own accord. I tried to concentrate on the sea before me, but the charms of her feminine body were starting to be a bit too tempting.We watched the sun set, we sat in silence. Conversation wouldn’t come – now even Poornima seemed preoccupied, and I feared she was regretting having to spend the day with me. Although she hadn’t mentioned anything about our stay for the night, I was hoping we would go back home. In the state I was in, a hotel room did not seem so secure for my daughter.It was a quarter to seven when the waiter came in again. This time, he had a cake, a beautifully iced sponge, with Poornima’s birthday all over it. It was a good thing that my kid had had the common sense to arrange for it beforehand; in my troubled frame of mind, her birthday was out of focus.As soon as the door closed, Poornima declared that she was going to change into her birthday costume. I didn’t realize how literally honest she had been until she reached behind her back, undid the knot of the top and let it fall to the floor.Dear sirs. I am a man. I have eyes, and I have a body. Blood courses my veins and arteries. Can you then blame me for responding like a man to the sight of my daughter taking off her clothes? Can you empathize with me if I tell you that I desired her…Poornima hooked her thumbs in the hem of her bottoms, and in one smooth move, she had them off. I let my jaw drop to the floor at the sight of her

Well-trimmed pussy, a perfect V, and the cheeky pink lips that I just wanted to talk to… My cock jerked as I stared with every right at Neem’s body that she was so unabashedly displaying for me.Poornima basked under my attention for around five seconds before walking nonchalantly to the cake and cut off a slice. Like the previous years, she offered me the piece, and when I opened my mouth, she put it in. I repeated the gesture, but a little of the icing fell on her breasts. Our eyes met, and she nodded imperceptibly.Calling upon all the gods in the world to give me the strength, I swiped the cake off her tit, and ate it off my hands. Poornima, though, shook her head. She took another piece, and deliberately this time, wiped it all around the engorged breast. Then she stuck her tongue out, and in a slow, sensuous manner, drew it back in.I got the message. I lowered my face to her bosom.The rest of the things happened too fast and too deep for me to recount with any degree of accuracy. Basically, we made love – we had foreplay, we consummated and then we foreplayed some more, and then we consummated some more. The difference was in the fact that neither of us had ever felt anything like it. Our excitement and anticipation had been so much that it was with pleasure that my daughter moaned out aloud when I burst through her hymen.And it was only an hour later, when exhausted and contented, we lay in each other’s arms and reiterated our love for each other. Poornima admitted that she had been trying to seduce me ever since her mother had left for Saudi, and she had almost given up when a friend of hers suggested this last-ditch maneuver.We made love all through the rest of the evening, even missing dinner, and it was only when my tummy grumbled about the hunger the next morning that we left the bed. It had felt so good, so natural to feel her body against mine, and I had slipped on my second ring into her pinky, sort of to signal my commitment.Neither of us ever revealed anything to Anita about the new face of our relationship, but two months after Poornima confirmed that she had missed her period, my sharp wife of 20-odd years noticed the slight bulge of her stomach.To cut a long story short, we soon admitted to Anita that the child our daughter was carrying was, indeed, mine. It was only after two days that we were able to speak to Anita again. Fortunately, by that time, she had gone over the pros and cons, and had decided that she was going to be totally indifferent to whatever it was that Poornima and I did.Anita came home a year later, but by since we had already moved Poornima’s stuff into the master bedroom, she resigned herself quite willingly to the guest room. Her grandson, she told me on the day he was born, was making it all worth it.Anita went back to Saudi a month later, but promised us that it was her last stint abroad. She told me that she intends to come back home and look after her children. Poornima told me that her mother was always trying to get her to agree to have another baby…And here’s the beauty of the situation – Neem’s already caught our second kid, but we are waiting to tell the news to my wife in person.Until then, we’ll just keep pretending that we are trying…comments welcome at