Tale Of Teenage LustChapter 35 free porn video

The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully; the only highlight being the darling Kalpana aunty coming with my lunch in the afternoon. After the night before last, a new sort of bond had been established between us. Though she was extremely warm to me, I could sense the undercurrents of discomfiture in her mannerisms. After all, how would one expect any self-respecting mother of two to behave with a young college-goer like me, with whom she had such a complex relationship?

Not only was she having a passionate sexual dalliance with a 20-something youth, but her teenaged daughter too seemed to be completely infatuated with him. A middle-aged woman having an affair with a youngster seemed bad enough; and the fact that she had to share his affections with her own teenaged daughter only complicated matters further.

Especially when matters had gotten out of hand, and mother and daughter had ended up sharing their bodies with me; that too, right in front of each other. I could well imagine how difficult it would be now for her to not only face me, but her own daughter. These were the thoughts that preoccupied me, as I ate my lunch, while she watched me affectionately.

Our conversation was polite, to say the least, and when I hugged her as she was about to leave, I could see the conflict raging within her body and soul. Even though I had spent the most erotic night imaginable with Kalpana aunty and her daughter Jigna, a part of me now wished it had not happened; at least not the way it eventually did.

The look in her eye as she looked at me fondly and kissed me softly on the lips, was of a woman who had been stripped of her last vestige of modesty before me; and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Not wanting her to find out about me taking Sarla bhabhi and Amisha to our club for Garba, I told her about it myself.

She was nice about it, and wished me a good time, but when I asked her if she, Jigna, and Jatin-bhai would like to join us, she declined politely.

“It’s very kind of you to ask, beta...” she said “but we would only be a burden...” smiling warmly at me, as she touched my cheek affectionately.

It was only after she left that I realized that my heartless cock, for the first time, kept itself in check when in her presence.

Slightly worried about the future of my relationship with her, I closed the door behind her, and went to take a nap, knowing that I had a long night ahead. Towards evening, I was woken up by a visibly cheerful Sarla bhabhi, who came to inform me that Amisha would have only two people accompanying her, all her other friends having already made plans with their friends.

I was hoping that Amisha’s best friend, the pretty Barbie-doll like Krutika would come along, and was somewhat disappointed when I came to know that she wasn’t. Instead, it was going to be the dusky South Indian girl Mini, who’d been given permission to go out at night, only if she were accompanied by a male from their family, which in this case had turned out to be one of her cousin, who was visiting them from their home town in Kerala.

Refreshed by my afternoon siesta, I went up to my terrace for a work-out, spending more time on tightening my biceps with my dumb-bells. Given the new laws that had come into effect, clubs could not remain open beyond 1:00 AM in the night, the program was supposed to start by 8:00 PM. After a rigorous work-out, I had a quick shower, and got ready for the evening. I decided against shaving, realizing that my 2-day old stubble did not look all that bad, and somehow made me look older than I actually was.

Deciding to wear a wine-red Kurta along with my faded blue denims, along with a pair of Jodhpuris, I was at Sarla bhabhi’s house by about 6:30 PM, having nothing else to do.

“Ohh ... you are already ready...!” she exclaimed as she opened the door. “I must hurry up then...” she said with a little laugh, as she closed the door behind us.

I had been looking forward to seeing how she would look in the traditional Garba attire, and even though I had expected her to look fabulous, I was still left breathless by how she looked.

She was wearing a lovely pink ghaagra-choli, which despite being conservatively cut, was stunning in its understated elegance. She looked regal in that; the perfect picture of a lovely vivacious housewife, who conveyed her age with élan. She was still clutching the comb with which she had been brushing her hair, and when she saw me gaping at her, she beamed with pride.

“So, how do I look, beta?” she asked, pushing back her hair, and posing before me, her eyes twinkling naughtily.

Smiling slowly, I replied “You look magnificent, aunty...” unable to pull my eyes from her lovely breasts under the somewhat transparent pink choli, and her incredibly desirable milky white belly, the ghaagra tied well below her navel, accentuating her naturally curvy and lush body.

“Ohh, don’t call me ‘aunty’...” she intoned with an accentuated pout, before breaking out into a laugh.

As I too laughed at her little theatrics, she said “On a serious note, beta ... do you think this makes me look more ‘aunty-like’...” gazing expectantly at me.

Taking a step back, I made a show of holding my chin and pursing my lips, as if inspecting her closely. “Hmm...” I grunted, as I nodded my head, as if making some profound observations, causing her to protest “Oh, come on ... Don’t tease me ... I am serious...” smiling nonetheless.

In all fairness, in this attire, she looked more classy than sexy. Looking at her, I asked “Do you want my honest opinion, aunty?” smiling naughtily.

“Of course ... please...” she replied immediately, her expression expectant.

“Umm ... let me see...” I began, trying to choose my words carefully. You ... umm ... look magnificent, aunty ... very elegant ... very classy ... very lovely...” I began, watching her nod her head automatically, soaking in the adulation she’d come to expect from me. “But...” I continued, looking to see if her expression changed.

“But what...” she automatically exclaimed, her beaming face falling a bit, nodding her head as if urging me to complete.

“But ... There’s something ... umm ... missing...” trying hard to get my thoughts in order, while I looked at her closely.

“Missing ... What’s missing, beta ... tell me...” she urged, a slightly bewildered look on her teasing fair-complexioned high-cheekboned extremely desirable face, while she self-consciously began to smooth her lovely flowing ghaagra.

“But ... you look more beautiful than sexy...” I finally said, a sheepish grin on my face.

Her brows furrowed in concentration, as she took in what I said, glancing at herself in the mirror hung behind their main door. Adjusting the pallu of her almost transparent chiffon-like pink choli, she looked at me in the mirror and said “So, you’re saying that I’m not looking sexy enough...” repeating what I’d just said, as if trying to interpret something out of it.

Pursing my lips, I said “I’m sorry, aunty ... but, yes...” I replied.

Realizing that she’d taken my observation far too seriously, I said “I mean ... this is lovely ... but I think ... I think ... you would look so hot ... so sexy ... if you wore a backless choli...” my voice becoming hoarse as I spoke the last few words.

Hearing that, she pouted her lips, and exclaimed “Oh, beta ... I know ... I know ... but I’m too old to wear backless cholis now...” her face creased with disappointment.

“Oh no, aunty ... That’s all in your mind ... you still have ... umm ... such a lovely figure...” I interjected, protesting vehemently, gazing lovingly at her lush, ripe, not so full, figure.

She seemed to have not even heard me, as she turned to face the mirror again. “You don’t understand, beta ... my breasts are not so firm anymore...” she said matter of factly, subconsciously reaching for her full, rounded breasts, supported by a bra under that pink elaborately adorned blouse that she wore, and hefting them in the palms of her hands.

Hearing the sexy Sarla bhabhi talk to me so openly about her body, I felt a surge of desire course through me. Taking a few steps to get behind her, as she stood facing the mirror with her back to me, I wrapped my hands around her waist from behind, and placing my hands over her breasts, I said huskily “Oh, aunty ... Don’t say that ... you have the most beautiful breasts I have ever seen...” trying my best to flatter her, while my fingers felt the contours of her lacy bra under the blouse.

As I rested my chin on her shoulders, and pressed my pelvis to her soft lush butt from behind, she looked at me in the mirror, and catching my eye, smiled at me fondly.

“Oh, beta ... you are so cute...” softly touching my hands which rested on her breasts. Continuing to gaze into my eyes, pleased with the attention I was lavishing on her, she smiled once again, and said “I know you love your Sarla aunty, beta ... but the fact is ... without my bra ... my breasts sag...” once again reaching to cup one of her lush, soft breasts, and squeezing it for effect.

I felt my cock stiffening automatically inside my denims as I watched her cup her own breasts, and talk to me about them so freely. Letting go of her, I turned her around to face me, and taking her hands said “OK, aunty ... do me one favor ... at least just wear it and show me once ... after all, we have enough time.” showing her my watch. “And once Amisha is here ... We’ll ask her for her opinion also ... the let us decide...” I said decisively, desperately trying to convince her.

As she stood there thinking about it, still uncertain, I persisted “Oh, aunty ... please ... at least for me...” putting on my best charming schoolboy expression, and smiling at her.

Seeing the expression on my face, she finally smiled slowly, the inherent seductiveness returning to her teasing smile. Pinching my cheeks fondly, she said “OK, beta ... if you say so...” as if agreeing to it just because I had so, though extremely pleased that I was continuing to take so much interest in her.

“Fantastic...” I replied with a big smile, as I stepped back and nodded happily. “I’m honored ... oh my dearest Sarla aunty...” I said with a flourish, bowing my head in mock chivalry.

“You naughty boy...” she chided me fondly, playfully slapping me on my arm. “By the way ... you and I are part of a little conspiracy already...” she said, something coming to her mind suddenly.

“What’s that?” I asked automatically.

Grinning naughtily, she said “Both Amisha and her friend want to wear backless cholis as well ... but obviously ... since their mothers wouldn’t allow them ... they are going to do it clandestinely...” shaking her head excitedly. “So, they are going to wear regular blouses under their backless cholis when they leave from their house ... but they’re going to come here ... and get rid of the blouse...” she continued, her eyes twinkling merrily, as she shared the little secret with me.

“And we are their partners in crime...” she added, chuckling heartily as she finished. While the more adventurous and liberated girls wore backless cholis during Navaratris, it was common practice for the relatively conservative girls to wear a regulation blouse under the backless choli. That way, they didn’t have to sacrifice the glamor and allure of those elaborately designed cholis, since the best looking ones were inevitably backless ones; while at the same time not look “aunty-type” wearing only those boring blouses.

Hearing this little nugget of unexpected information, I began to look forward to the evening more than ever.

“Oh, by the way ... you are looking really nice too...” I heard Sarla bhabhi say suggestively, snapping me out of my reverie, while she came close to me, and placed her hand on my chest, caressing the muscles of my chest through my silk wine-red kurta. As I beamed with pleasure, she caressed the two-day old stubble on my cheeks, and said seductively “And this stubble makes you look really sexy too...” her eyes dancing on me teasingly.

More than anything else, what turned me on about Sarla bhabhi were her cock-teasing mannerisms. And this time was no exception, as she bit her lips suggestively.

“Oh, come on, aunty ... when will you stop teasing me...” I protested, with a groan.

She laughed at that, and replied “When you stop ogling my body...” enjoying teasing me, and basking in the knowledge of having an adulatory youngster like me around.

Her mocking annoyed me, and aroused me at the same time, and with a grin I said “Can’t help it, aunty ... you are just so hot...” reaching out to touch the milky white smooth skin of her fleshy waist from the side.

“Save it for later, my darling beta...” she said with a little laugh, as she pulled away from me. “Let me try on the other dress...” she said suggestively, as she walked inside to her bedroom, leaving me shaking my head incredulously.

With a sigh, I sat down in the comfortable couch, as she closed the door of her bedroom to change.

As I sat in the living room, waiting for Sarla bhabhi, the bell rang. While I got up to open the door, I heard Sarla bhabhi call out from inside “Beta, can you get the door ... it will be Amisha and her friends...”

Replying to her in the affirmative, I walked up to the door and opened it. It was indeed Amisha and her classmate, the sexy Mini, along with her cousin.

“Hiii bhaiyyaa...” Amisha greeted me excitedly when she saw me, immediately reaching out to grab hold of my hand.

“Hi baby...” I said with a smile, as I let them in and quickly closed the door behind them. Amisha looked extremely desirable in a classic red Garba attire of ghaagra-choli, which was elaborately adorned in the popular ‘rabaari bharat’ style of embroidery, with a liberal sprinkling of tiny mirrors stitched into the cloth, which glimmered and shone, as they reflected light. There was something extremely provocative about school girls when they wore grown-ups’ clothes like a saree, or this attire for that matter.

Even the most unremarkable of girls could get transformed during Navaratris, simply on account of that lovely attire. Being attractive even otherwise, Amisha was simply transformed, her confident, self assured demeanour adding to the allure. Her friend, the dusky Mallu girl, Mini, too looked simply vivacious, resplendent in an equally elaborately embroidered ghaagra-choli, which was of a stunning shade of deep blue. While Amisha’s well developed breasts stood proudly on her chest, the sexy Mini’s equally firm breasts looked incredibly well rounded under her elaborate choli.

“Where’s Sarla aunty, bhaiya?” Amisha asked me, as she practically dragged me by my hand into the room.

“Inside...” I said with a smile, pointing to the door of Sarla bhabhi’s bedroom.

“Oh, let’s go inside ... come on...” Amisha said excitedly to Mini, letting go of my hand, as she went up to Sarla bhabhi’s bedroom and knocked on the door. It was then that I noticed the young fellow, who was ostensibly Mini’s cousin from her home town in Kerala, standing there awkwardly.

Turning to smile at Mini warmly, who herself stood there a trifle out of place, I extended my hand to shake hers, as I said “Hi Mini ... you look lovely...” while I took her hand in mine and shook it warmly.

She blushed, predictably enough, and smiling, said “Thank you, bhaiya ... You’re looking very handsome too...” her mischievous eyes glinting.

Turning to smile at the young boy, I said “You must me Mini’s cousin ... hi, I’m Jignesh...” introducing myself.

“Hi ... I am Biju...” the young Keralite boy answered awkwardly, as he shook my hand.

I had to stifle a smile, for some of these typical Keralite names never ceased to amaze and amuse me. Mini, and now Biju, were classic examples of that.

“Good to meet you, Biju...” I replied warmly, wondering how much he would get ragged for just his name, had he been in my school. As Mini followed Amisha into Sarla bhabhi’s bedroom, I caught a quick glimpse that both girls had indeed worn blouses under their backless cholis.

As I sat in the living room with Biju, I learnt that he was only a year older than Mini, and had just completed his school, and was waiting for admission into a college. Though, he was extremely dark, he had the classic good looks that some Keralites are blessed with, complete with dark curly hair, thanks to Kerala’s famous coconut oil! He was a pleasant enough fellow, and I soon learnt that he was big time into sports, and had even represented his school at the State level in both football as well as athletics.

As I sized him, I saw that he was blessed with a naturally athletic and muscular physique, which the likes of me, no matter how much time I spent pumping iron, could never ever build. He was a whole head taller than me, and suddenly I felt like somewhat physically inadequate in his presence, as I glanced at his strong shoulders, muscular forearms, and thick calloused extra large feet.

But like with many such supremely physical specimens, he was somewhat awkward around people and not very self assured. Moreover, he had a thick South Indian accent that made me smile, whenever he spoke. I noted that he was not dressed for Garba, as he was in a simple pair of trousers and checked half-sleeved shirt left untucked.

He must have caught me glancing at his clothes, for he suddenly asked “Umm, bhaiyya...” pronouncing it as ‘baiia’ in his thick south Indian accent “I came only because Mini’s mother would not have allowed her to go out alone ... I came from Kerala only yesterday ... and I don’t have ‘jubba’ or anything...” making me smile when he used the word ‘jubba’, and also the accent with which he pronounced it.

It did not matter what one wore, but I realized he would feel terribly out of place at the Club, where everyone would be in their traditional best. Thinking quickly, I said “Don’t worry, Biju ... I have an idea...” suddenly realizing that he’d probably fit into some of my clothes. Getting up, I said “Come on...” deciding to jump over to my place, and see what I could lend him to wear for the night. I remembered that I’d picked up a two pairs of jeans from the boutique store where Sapna worked yesterday, which I’d not even tried on, and vaguely suspected of being a tad oversized for me.

And I had plenty of kurtas in my wardrobe, and was sure that I could find something that would fit him. As he hesitated, I said “Come on ... we don’t have time...” smiling at him, to make him feel at ease. As I’d suspected, the jeans were a size too large for me, and therefore fit him perfectly. And I also found a sober yet classy hand-woven cotton checked kurta that went well with the dark blue acid-washed jeans.

As he checked himself out in the mirror, I could see that he was immensely pleased with the result.

“Perfect ... you look perfect...” I said, patting him on the shoulder, causing him to smile at me broadly, his big pearly white teeth shining.

“Thank you very much, bhaiyya...” he said, shaking my hand vigorously, the gratitude evident in his smile. I knew I’d made a new friend at that moment.

Just as we got back to Sarla bhabhi’s house and let ourselves in, the bedroom door opened, and Mini came out. To say that she’d been transformed would be an understatement. The girls seemed to have spent some time doing their make-up under the guidance of the ever green Sarla bhabhi, and the results were impressive.

Mini had dark curly hair, which she habitually tied in a single braid at the back of her head, the curls held in check with multiple hair clips. However, now Sarla bhabhi seemed to have worked some magic on her hair, using liberal amounts of some hair spray that held the hair in place, and had helped her tie her hair in a single bun behind her head, undoubtedly helped by some false hair also.

The elaborately adorned dupatta was now worn as a ghunghat of sorts, held together over the bun of her hair with the help of hair clips, though still leaving most of her head uncovered. Her dusky complexion had been pepped up with the mandatory foundation that made her look less dark, and she even had some rouge highlights on her cheeks.

Sarla bhabhi had even helped her apply mascara to highlight her eyes, and also used the mascara pencil to good effect by using it to make three small dots in a triangular formation on the cleft of her chin.

“Wow, Mini ... you look wonderful...” I found myself saying, as soon as I laid my eyes on her, making her blush and smile. At the same time, her eyes fell on her cousin, and her eyes widened in surprise. She exclaimed something in her native tongue to Biju, who just grinned awkwardly and pointed to me.

“Ohh, bhaiyya ... this is so nice of you...” immensely pleased at me having helped out her cousin with his wardrobe, as she automatically came to me and touched my hand. That’s when she caught me looking at her chest, trying to figure out if she’d actually gotten rid of the blouse underneath, since there was no way of making it out from the front, the choli being the type which covered the entire front of her torso, including her belly.

I saw her blush and smile excitedly at the same time, as she looked up at me and whispered “Yes ... only the choli...” nodding her head excitedly. Her cousin had now moved into the passage to the kitchen and was combing his hair using a mirror hung over the washbasin, and using the moment, I slid my hand around her back.

My heartbeat switched gears when I slid my hand upwards under her ghunghat, from her lower back to the upper back, and felt the skin of her bare back all the way through, except for the three strings at the back that held the choli in place.

“Lovely...” I found myself whispering back, my cock hardening almost instantly when I realized that she wore nothing else under that backless choli. I’d always wondered if and how girls managed to wear bras under these backless cholis, since I could never spot the strap of a bra at the back.

Despite her discomfiture at not having anything else underneath, I could see that she was pleased with the effect she was having on me, and a hint of a smile, with a mix of shyness and seductiveness, played on her lips. The fact that her tender young tennis ball type breasts sat absolutely firmly under the choli, with practically no sag, spoke volumes about how firm her breasts were.

Unlike Amisha, who still had a bit of baby fat on her body, Mini was the lean, firm, hard bodied type. Hearing the sounds of the bedroom door opening again, I quickly pulled my hand away from Mini’s bare back, while she too hastily pulled away.

“How do I look, bhaiyyaa!?” I heard Amisha exclaim, as she came bustling out of the room, her pretty angular face beaming with pride.

As she stood there, pirouetting on her toes, twirling her long elaborate ghaagra, I found myself shaking my head incredulously. She too had been transformed, and looked absolutely ravishing. Sarla bhabhi had worked her magic with the make-up on Amisha too, and she looked every bit the delicious Gujarati teenage girl, resplendent in her traditional attire.

While Mini watched, somewhat bemused at Amisha’s exuberance, Amisha came trotting to me, and clutched both my hands excitedly. “Ohh, aunty is so wonderful ... I am so happy ... so happy...” she exclaimed excitedly, jumping up and down on her toes, causing her unsupported ripe young breasts under the choli to jiggle excitedly.

“I am speechless, baby...” I said, clearing my throat, continuing to soak in her beauty, while I saw Mini smirk through the corner of my eyes. I could sense the undercurrents of rivalry between these two young teenage schoolgirls, as both of them vied for my attention. But Amisha seemed oblivious to everything else, as she reached up to pull my head towards her, and whispered in my ear “Bhaiyya ... I’m not even wearing a bra...” her tone excited.

As she let go of my neck, and I straightened, I felt my cock give another appreciative twitch inside my jeans, at the uninhibited, naïve manner in which this sexy young teenager was telling me that she was not wearing anything else under her choli.

Smiling broadly, displaying all her teeth, she asked again “So tell me, bhaiyya ... how do I look?” her eyes wide with expectation.

“You look gorgeous, baby...” I said with a smile, reaching out to pat her cheek gently, in a brotherly sort of way, which was only for the benefit of the dusky Mini who stood watching us closely.

“Ohh, I know ... I know...” Amisha gushed, too excited to notice the little change in my mannerisms.

“Beta, Jignesh ... can you come in here for a minute please?” I heard Sarla bhabhi call out for me from the bedroom.

“Excuse me, ladies...” I said with exaggerated politeness, and a wink to the two girls, causing both of them to burst into giggles. As I pushed open the bedroom door, Sarla bhabhi, who’d been waiting behind the door, quickly closed it behind me.

As she turned towards me, my breath caught in my throat, and I felt my cock give a noticeable jerk in the confines of my tight underwear. The cock-teasing Sarla bhabhi looked sizzling hot and ravishing enough to eat! She’d changed into an all-black ghaagra-choli-ghunghat attire, that was intricately embroidered with tiny red triangles, which held similarly shaped tiny mirrors in place.

She looked like a much fairer, younger, and prettier version of Ila Arun, the Indian folk singer, the mascara in her eyes, and those three black dots on the cleft of her chin, standing out against the milky white complexion of her skin. She’d applied a lovely shade of lipstick on her lush lips, and wore a pair of dangling ethnic ear-rings.

Her heavily embroidered black choli had a deep round neck, that gave an enticing view of her lush cleavage, and the predominantly black colour of her attire contrasted beautifully with the milky white complexion of her skin. There were only a few women who could carry off an all-black attire with such élan, and the lovely Sarla bhabhi was definitely one of them.

As I stood there gawking at her, my mouth agape, I could see that she was pleased with the effect her appearance had had on me.

“I’m waiting...” she said with a teasing smile, as she batted her mascara-lined eyelashes flirtatiously.

I opened my mouth to say something, but the words just caught in my throat. She had not worn the ghunghat over her head, leaving it dangling from her shoulder, and my eyes were drawn to her bosom.

Unsupported by a bra, her lovely breasts had settled down a bit on her chest, but not unduly so. On the contrary, they somehow looked a size larger than before.

“Helloo...” I heard her say, pinching me good naturedly, snapping me out of my reverie.

Swallowing once again, I finally managed to gasp “Aunty ... you are ... you are like a dream come true ... you are the most...” unable to complete, as I just shook my head in awe of her sheer sexiness.

The attire she wore had definitely become a bit tight for her now, and it only served to accentuate the curves of her body even more. The front of her choli managed to cover most of her belly, but still left a tantalizing strip of her milky white belly uncovered just above her ghaagra. And the strings holding her choli in place at the back were tied tightly behind her back, accentuating her naturally curvy shape, where her waist flared out into full wide hips.

Taking my hand in hers, she placed it on her hips, allowing me a feel of the smooth milky white skin of her bare waist, and said “So, do I still look as good as the Sarla aunty you used to come to watch play Garba ... many years ago...” she asked in a husky whisper, a teasing smile playing on her lush lips.

“Ohh, aunty ... even better ... even better...” I found myself answering hoarsely, just unable to pull my eyes away from her.

Pleased, she let go of my hand and took a step back. Straightening her shoulders, she asked me “Tell me, beta ... do my breasts look like they are sagging?” she asked matter of factly, eager to have my opinion.

“Oh no, aunty ... not at all ... not at all ... in fact ... umm ... they look ... umm ... bigger...” I gasped, turned on immensely by the manner in which she asked me for my opinion.

“Do they?” she asked, a hint of a smile appearing on her lips again.

“Yes...” I replied, nodding.

Smiling at me knowingly, she stepped closer to me and said “The secret is bra pads...” taking my hand in hers, and placing it over her lush breasts. As she pressed my palm to her lush breasts, I realized that the reason her breasts looked a tad larger, and sat a tad firmer on her chest, was indeed on account of the bra-pads that she’d inserted into the cups of her choli.

“Oh, aunty...” I groaned, squeezing her breasts through the choli, and pressing the protruding bulge of my penis to her belly. “You’re going to drive all the young guys like me out there crazy tonight...” I said with a smile, making her blush with pleasure.

We were getting late for the program, and pulling myself away from her, I said “I think we better leave now, aunty ... before you drive me crazy...” winking at her naughtily, eliciting soft laughter from her.

As Sarla bhabhi gathered her purse and followed me out, the two young girls crowded around her, gushing with excitement about how lovely she looked. That’s when Sarla bhabhi noticed Mini’s cousin, Biju, who stood there gaping at her.