Erotic Story Of BINITA. 9 free porn video

Chapter 09: Daughter-In-Law Seeks Father-In-Law

Ye li jiye tel,’ said Binita to her father-in-law, shyly, her head down. (Take this oil.)

She had watched him pace around the small, comfortable flat all morning. It was Sunday and she new why he was restless. It was not because she kept avoiding being alone with him. Yes she did that, but she didn’t notice any specific discomfort or efforts on his part.

She stayed away from him ever since that shocking day when he showed up at her workplace in the city. He had taken her to his hotel room and plundered her, holding her against the wall and fucking her like a b**st. And then unrelenting when he mistakenly took her ass, he had fucked her raw there too.

It had been made more complicated by the incessant phoning of her husband while she was being fucked by his father. The danger that he might arrive before they finished had made her stomach churn but it had immensely heightened her pleasure.

Not that it needed any heightening. The man was large and well hung and she small and sylph-like trying to cope with a log of a cock. Thakur, her father-in-law, was powerful in his loins, in his hands and in the way he took her. She always felt ragged, used, pleasured and plundered. The satisfaction was immense and it further reduced her need for her own husband whose sexual prowess was weak at best. Slender cock and an early finish were part of his script and when she was taken by the father her needs seemed met for a lifetime.

It was only four days since that wonderful pounding. Even though she had been reluctant she enjoyed every bit. Part of her reluctance came from her unwillingness to make this a long term relationship with a pattern. It was fraught with danger of her husband finding out. Already her mother-in-law had come to know and had been manageable only because the Thakurain succumbed to her own lust with Binita.

The other part of her reluctance came from her need to maintain the decorum, even with a man who had seen her nude and splayed open and she had taken in. he was after all a landlord and there was a whole village in awe of him. Having married into that f****y she felt the need to exercise restraint and be a dutiful, devoted and submissive, shy bahu (daughter-in-law).

The demure and shy side of her was in sharp contrast to the vivacious, spontaneous girl she really was. But that was how it was in traditional India. You had to be different at home and you could pretty much be what you wanted in your professional and social life of the city.

She knew her babuji (the traditional way of addressing one’s father-in-law, which equated him to ‘father’) very well. She knew every muscle, every touch, and every nuance of his wondrous, monstrous cock. She also knew every nuance of how he liked to be treated which is why she behaved differently as a bahu and very differently when he feasted on her young, lithe body.

The man was lord and master of all he surveyed in his village. If he had been there today, he would have been given an oil massage by one the village belles that worked in his mansion. He may have felt aroused at thoughts of his young, nubile daughter-in-law faraway in the city and had the village woman masturbate him. Or fuck her while fantasizing of his son’s wife. Or just allowed himself the arousal and felt good about the bl**d coursing through his veins in manly fashion.

He was missing that and pacing around the flat. At the moment she offered him the warm oil in the earthen dish Thakur had his back to her, standing on the balcony of their high-rise apartment, gazing at the view it offered.

He turned around to look at his bahu. She was in her nightgown, revealing nothing. Her hair was drawn back tight and her face was clear. He wondered where his son was. The young man had fucked his wife on Saturday night. He had had a drink and taken her f***efully to his room unmindful of the obviousness to the father. He had heard the guy scream out his orgasm in remarkably quick time. It left him wondering if his son was pleasuring this girl adequately.

Secretly, it pleased him if that was true. He loved the idea of being her best fuck. The thought had caused an erection and like every night and morning these last four days, he masturbated, imagining his bahu sitting on his lap, his cock lanced up into her small cunt.

‘Where is Pritam?’ asked Thakur of his daughter-in-law. He could take the oil or he could ask her to apply it for him. But first he needed to know where his son was.

‘I sent him out on work. Thodi der lagegi unko aney mey,’ replied Binita, her chest and cheeks flushed red and she felt the roots of her hair burning. (It will be a while before he returns.)

She had sent away Pritam on a long outstanding errand which she knew assured her of at least a couple of hours of absence. Every day Thakur had missed no opportunity of touching her on seemingly innocent occasions. Pritam’s wild and inadequate fucking the previous night had turned her thoughts towards her babuji who was just next door.

When Pritam had collapsed after the short fuck, she felt aroused but unfulfilled. Her mnd wandered to her Babuji who lay asl**p next door. He knew he lustd her on a permanent basis and could be available to her to satiate her provoked needs. She had crept out to find babuji. She heard him groan loudly as she peered through the door. He was masturbating and she was embarrassed to stop him.

She watched as he vigorously fisted himself and was fascinated at the dimensions of the father’s cock and wondered how the son could be so slender in comparion. Then she realised this thick monster had been shoved up her anus just the other day by her father-in-law. Her already aroused state got wilder and she decided the readily available cock must be put to better use. Just then Thakur gasped loudly, and she watched as his fist flooded over with white gobs of semen. ‘Semen that belongs to me!’ she had thought. Thakur confirmed that thought by groaning out her name, ‘Binita beti!’ (Binita, my girl!).

She didn’t enter. She could have. Her babuji was man enough to fuck her right after cumming. But she knew it would be a longer fuck since he had just cum. Binita knew from her lovemaking record with the Thakur that her babuji always fucked her to a point of sexual exhaustion. She did not have the guts to take him on when he had just come. It would be long. She could become sore. And Pritam was at home and might want to fuck her at any time. She didn’t want to be so sore that she would have to disappoint her dear husband. It was then that she decided to postpone her pleasure to a more manageable encounter with the Thakur next morning.

‘Tum laga dogi?’ asked Thakur, his eyes penetrating through to the depth of her being. (Will you apply the oil?)

She nodded to him a yes, her throat choking with excitement. This is what she had wanted — a long luxurious length of time with him rather than the furtiveness when Pritam was in the house.

She tossed a mat out to the balcony so that the oil wouldn’t stain the carpet. ‘Aap udhar baitheye. Main lagati hoon,’ whispered Binita.

Thakur stripped his kurta and raised his hands over his head to throw it off. Binita admired the rippling muscles on her father-in-law’s back and hoped she would be able to caress and cling on to him. She had tossed and turned all night in bed wanting this man. After that evening under the mango tree in the Thakur’s backyard, this morning seemed to be the day her desire was unrestrained.

Unexpectedly, Thakur stripped off his dhoti and sat down wearing only his loin cloth. It barely concealed his full bl**ded cock. Binita stepped forward, hesitating only because her father-in-law was very minimally clothed. What if they were spotted? Then she decided that since she couldn’t see anyone from her balcony, she too would be not visible to others.

She moved close to Thakur, standing in front of him. She tipped the bowl of oil and let the warm fluid drip onto the Thakur’s head. And then she moved the stream of oil onto his chest. She stopped pouring the oil and waited for the it flow and cover him. Thakur inhaled her scents and luxuriated in the flowing oil.

The aroma of his favorite girl made his erection swell to its fullest. The loin cloth restrained him and soaked the flow from his cock. Thakur’s strong hands gripped Binita’s ankles. She was still in her night gown. He slid his hands up, caressing her thighs and cupping her ass. He kneaded her ass causing a mild flow in her cunt.

Binita massaged her head, rubbing the oil in. The large rough hands moved towards the front of her body, inside the all-covering gown. The fact that his hands were playing on her body within the gown led her to believe they would remain unnoticed. His hands grabbed at her breasts, thumb on nipples and palms cupping the mass of her tits. Binita shuddered and her body hunched over Thakur’s head, holding him to her.

‘Babuji,’ whispered Binita weak with desire.

‘Hmm?’ asked Thakur, burying his face in her crotch. She spread her legs and allowed him to nuzzle her freely. She was wearing nothing below, like those village belles who attended on him in the mansion.

‘Babuji, aap mujhe mooh nahi lagayenge?’ she pleaded. (Babuji, wont you mouth me?) Thakur responded by raising her gown, his lips desperately seeking bare flesh. Binita now felt that the railing of the balcony was higher than her hip level so anything that Thakur might do with his lips on her pussy wouldn’t be spotted. She spread her legs further as she felt the cool morning breeze caress her ass and her thighs.

Thakur immediately lipped the cunt, tonguing his bahu. She hunched over him, rubbing the oil into his back, the balls of her thumb working his muscles. Soon enough, she found it convenient to put one leg over his shoulder and place her cunt on his mouth. Thakur tongued her vigorously, lapping at the cunt. His hands clutched her ass holding her pussy in place where he could feed on her totally.

Binita held on to the balcony railing and pressed herself to her babuji’s lips, grinding herself into him. She raised herself, giving him the space he needed to tongue her. Then she ground herself down, using his chin, his nose, his mouth as props for her own pleasure. Thakur’s hands were clutching her ass and he allowed his fingers to stray, exploring the edges of her anus which he had invaded with his cock just the other day.

It caused Binita’s sphincter to lose control and she convulsed in an open gush of pleasure. When she came she violently shuddered into his face, creaming his large handlebar mustache. It was soon soaked would be crusty as it dried on him. Tears ran down Binita’s cheeks at the immense release she felt with her babuji’s sexual feasting.

Drained by the release, she slumped on his head. As Thakur slowly chewed on her pussy lips she realized he was still to be taken care of. She removed her leg from around his shoulder and knelt in front of him. Thakur reached forward and held her breasts through the fabric of her gown. It was as if he way toying with her, playfully stroking and touching her.

But she was at serious work. She pulled his loincloth loose, allowing the member within to swell in all its glory. She picked up the oil bowl and from a height over the cockhead she let a stream of oil drop on the head. As it hit its target thakur felt the heavy drops drumming his head. It was an incessant rhythmic beat which caused his cock to jerk and throb.

It soaked his entire cock and it gleamed gloriously. Binita reached out with both her hands to work the oil into the trunk of flesh. Her small hands could each barely gather all of his bulk. She ran her fingers up and down the trunk. The oil sank into his skin and fluid leaked from his cockhead. She took that too in her fingers and worked it into the cock.

As she pulled the foreskin back the head swelled up to new proportions and Thakur groaned. She knelt forward lovingly, watching the beautiful cock. She could spend hours stroking and loving him. She kissed the head and with both hands she caught the cock in her hands. She wondered as ever about how large he was and how small her hands seemed. She stroked him gently at first. And then harder. And harder and harder, till he felt his cock ready to explode.

Groaning loudly and throwing his head back he pulled her hands off him. Instead he caught her head and shoved her down on his cock. Binita stretched her mouth as wide open as possible knowing that he was massively large, be it her hand, her mouth or her cunt.

Her mouth was invaded by the cock and the odor of oil, his skin and his fluids was odious. Binita gagged but the Thakur held her down powerfully. Her hands were now on his waist as she supported her body. She brought one hand to the base of his cock. She clenched at has cock moving her head backward off his cock.

Binita rose and seated herself on his lap. She wiggled forward. Reaching down between them she caught his cock and guided it as far as her lips. Then, leaning back she thrust her hips hard. The cock splayed the cunt wide open and Binita wailed with a loud shout of ‘Babuji, le lo!’ (Babuji, take me!)

She spread her legs wider still opening out her cunt as far as possible to take in the invading monster. Thakur clutched her ass and pulled her in on top of himself. Soon her coarse pubic hair touched his groin. She had sunk down fully on him and his cock was deep where it belonged, in her womb.

She relished this! The fullness! How snug he was inside her!

She locked her legs behind his back and strapped her hands around him. She thrust her hips forward and back pleasuring herself on the cock embedded in her. Her nails dug into his back, drawing red lines of passion.

Both of them grunted and moaned as the fucking grew in intensity. The noises they were making were loud and Binita had long lost sense of their location. And while she had considered the height of her apartment and the railings she had not factored in Shaila aunty next door.

Shaila was the 40-something neighbor who had been watching and sometimes listening to the romantic antics of Pritam and Binita next door. She was discreet about it as she and her husband played the role of local elders to the young couple next door. She often talked to her husband about it and occasionally the elder couple enjoyed a spurt in their own sexual vitality.

As she sipped her late morning tea she smiled at the sounds from the balcony next door. They were at it again, but with a difference, she thought to herself. Today, Binita was also to be heard. Normally it was only thumping and the male sounds. Or perhaps Binita’s voice was not heard on other days. Today seemed to be quieter. And certainly the sounds seemed to be coming from a closer location.

Shaila peered around the separating wall cautiously, hoping she wouldn’t be spotted. She was also indulging the voyeur in herself, hoping for a visual treat. She was not disappointed. She saw the broad back of the man she assumed would be Pritam, muscles rippling as he fucked the woman seated on his lap. She could see Binita’s hands gripping the shoulder muscles at the back and her legs stretched out wide, around Pritam. Gosh, if only her own husband could be like that for one last time.

Binita thrust hard and grunted, ‘Babuji, fuck me!’ The words clearly carried to Shaila and she was not sure of what she had just heard. Did Binita say babuji? She craned her neck but the man’s face was turned towards Binita away from her. In fact, at the moment Thakur kissed his young bahu squarely on her lips, tasting her as it were.

Shaila noted that the man was completely nude while Binita had her nightgown bunched up around her waist. She watched mesmerized as the girl wrapped around the hunk swiveled her legs. Each swing of the legs was accompanied by a grunt from either the man or the woman. Shaila felt her own lust rising and pressed her thighs together for comfort.

As Binita slid in Thakur’s lap she started to feel that the fucking would feel more a****l is she liberated Thakur from her weight and let him pound her. She wanted that pounding and she wanted to lie back with legs open wide, submitting to him. She held his shoulders and raised herself, getting off his cock. Thakur applied his mouth every where on her body’ to whatever part was near him: breasts, thigh, and the now-soaked cunt.

He watched quizzically as Binita moved away from him and lay in front of him. As she sat down and stretched back she thought she saw an eye through the trellis and the money plant growing on it. Was someone from Shaila aunty’s house spying on them? Before she could react to that, Thakur knelt between her legs. Holding her by the hips the man lifted her like a doll onto his hips. With her asscheeks in his hand he pumped her onto his cock and pounded her.

Binita’s hands clutched at his hairy arms for dear life as her babuji took her. ‘Aap thak tey nahin ho kya Babuji?’ she asked impishly, her brattishness resurfacing at the same time as she dropped her inhibitions. (Don’t you ever lose your hardon?)

‘Tumhe chodte samay, nahin,’ grunted thakur in reply. (Not while fucking you.)

‘Mai apse dur rahti hoon, tab bhi aap mujhe nahi chhodte. Randi banana hai kya apna?’ she playfully scolded him. (Even when I stay away from you don’t leave me. You want to make me your whore?)

‘Sasur sey aise baat karte hain?’ asked Thakur, pushing up her gown, exposing her breasts. (Is that how you talk to your father-in-law?)They were like those mangoes of the tree under which they had first laid into each other. He slapped her breasts. They were sharp slaps delivering just-so-much pain. A physical rebuke accompanying the verbal rebuke.

Shaila clearly heard the word ‘sasur’. ‘My god!’ she thought in shock. That strong muscular figure was her father-in-law and they were fucking like a****ls. Shaila’s juices now poured and she became bolder in seeking a perfect view. After all, the couple were indulging in illicit passion, they could hardly be expected to complain against her.

She could see the rippling muscles of his back, the strong buttocks and the pale legs of the girl spread around them. Her heels were banging his ass. Shaila marveled at the muscular physique of a man old enough to be a father-in-law. The coarse nature of the conversation between them was fascination and shocking too.

‘Bahu ko chhodne ka shauk jab chadha, tab ye rishta yaad nahi raha,’ she teased. (When you got addicted to fucking me you didn’t remember this relationship.) Then she made a loud yelp ‘Aaii!’ as Thakur thrust his thumbs in from either end, further increasing the pressure on Binita’s vagina. Words failed him in replying her so he mauled her physically. Then, the crude landlord in him burst out, ‘Saali, randi!’ (Bitch! Whore!)

With those remarks he became more a****l and vigorous and Shaila could hear moans and grunts from the poor girl as she was methodically plundered. Shaila hated the lack of opportunity to get a better look at what was happening. She pressed her palm into her crotch to give herself some measure of relief. She couldn’t wait for her own husband to return now, she had to have a nice fuck.

Binita felt she would be torn open today and the only way she could manage Thakur was to ride him. She grabbed his arm and hefted herself up. Thakur was now kneeling and Binita was seated across his hips, her heels and feet on the ground on either side.

She said, ‘Aye Thakurji, apne bahu ko itna bhi mat thoko ki woh chal bhi nap aye.’ (Don’t fuck me so much that I will not be able to walk even.)

She then proceeded to hold his head and hug him hard, moving her hips and quieting his plundering cock. This time as she faced the lattice, she could clearly see Shaila aunty watching them. She paused in her thrusting. When Thakur felt the pause he pummeled her ass with his fist. She kissed his ear with a wet mouth and murmured, ‘Shayad koi hamey dekh raha hai.’ (I think someone is watching us.)

Thakur’s cock lost its hard edge. ‘Kaun?’ he asked in panic.

‘Apke peeche,’ replied Binita, eyes looking for Shaila whom she seemed to have been lost among the leaves of the plant. Her hips slid on the cock quickly, aching for the fullness and hardness. She wanted him. This doubt about being spotted came at a time where stopping or moving away was impossible.

‘Hato,’ said thakur (Move.)

‘Koi zarurat nahi,’ replied Binita fucking him harder.

‘Kam se kam mujhe dekhne do. Bahu yeh hamare khandaan ke izzat ka sawal hai,’ he begged.

The position they wre now in was exquisitely erotic. He was on his knees with his hips free to fuck and hands free to hold her up. She herself was in a seating position as if on a chair, only his hands were the seat, with a cock pinioning her firmly. Every thrust embedded him as far in her womb as he had ever been. Every thrust caressed her downward facing clit, sending sparks up her spine to her erect nipples. And every slide was over his ultra-sensitive cockhead.

It was a searing hot fuck.

Till she spotted the movement again. She froze momentarily and hoped that Thakur had not noticed it. She didn’t want him to notice it, her need for the fucking was intense and she had waited all night for this. His back was toward that woman so she was willing to take a chance that Shaila would mistake him for Pritam, though he was not nearly as solidly built as his dad.

‘Bahu, bahu, bahu,’ sobbed Thakur as a series of tremors convulsed him. For Binita, the articulation of pleasure was untimely, but Thakur felt that the lovemaking was so beautiful that he needed to say something to his daughter-in-law.

‘Mujhe yahan se le chaliye,’ whispered Binita into his ear. (Take me from here.) ‘Kahan?’ asked Thakur, (where) his hands gripping her ass and fingers probing the fringes of her no-longer-virgin anus.

‘Andar,’ she replied. (Inside) There was an urgency in her voice which he mistook for passionate haste. From the strategic point at which his fingers were he could not be blamed for misinterpreting her. He pried apart the asscheeks which were already in his grip and let his little finger explore her.

Binita shuddered uncontrollably as the violation triggered new impulses. ‘Naheee!’ she screamed louder than she wanted to with Shaila aunty spying.

‘Ghar ke andar, Babujee,’ she sobbed as both her cunt and her anus played havoc with her nervous system. She flailed like a rag doll in his powerful hands, speared on his weapon-like cock and ripples of pleasure marking her from different directions. ‘Who dekh rahi hai,’ she started to cry in the conflict between pleasure, shame and fear.

Thakur rose in one swift motion barely hindered by the weight he was carrying. Shaila saw the muscles flex, ripple and settle down as the marvelous specimen of manhood lifted his lover as he got up. She ached to see more of him, surely his cock would prove to be as robust a peg on which the girl was snared?

Shaila was least expecting it when Thakur strode directly toward where she was standing. Each step was a thunderbolt from his proud erect cock to the depths of Binita’s soul. Before Shaila could move he had reached the trellis with Binita clinging on to his shoulder. Thinking that he was headed indoors she had closed her eyes and was back to concentrating on the mischievous double penetration. Clinging on to Thakur’s powerful shoulders she savored the cock, wincing her hips in a butterfly like motion. Her face was a picture of ecstatic release.

It turned to shock when Thakur paused and pulled the leaves of the plant to exchange a clear glance with Shaila. It was Thakur’s turn to be shocked as the woman on the other side had her hand stuffed inside her nylon track pants. She was pleasuring herself and froze when discovered.

Binita bucked, her heels tapping on Thakur’s hips begging Thakur to move indoors, much as a horse rider goads the b**st on. He was a b**st indeed for he took in fully the sight of Shaila’s considerably large mammaries and the voluptuous figure and the effect they were having on her were not lost on him. His cock registered the new dimension by growing harder and more insistent.

The wiggling and tapping only increased the tempo. In deference to his daughter-in-law’s concerns for privacy, Thakur headed away from the balcony to the drawing room. The investigation had been necessary because he didn’t think there was anyone and wanted to reassure Binita. But that effort appeared to have backfired.

‘Unhone aap ko dekh liya! Kyon dikhaya apna chehra?’ wept the poor housewife, worried sick about her husband getting to know. (She saw you. Why did you show her your face?) The cock embedded in her was unremitting and continued its pulsations. The finger in her anus and the adjoining digits being in that erogenous zone also drover her wild. It all seemed incongruous. Thakur’s thudding steps only fucked her more.

He knelt down on the carpet and lay the woman down. She was wracked with sobs and he was completely nonplussed on how to handle the situation. As he slid her to the floor, his cock and fingers slid out. His relationship with his various women was pure lust. The women –at least the majority of them- succumbed to him because he delivered intense pleasure. His power as lord and master was matched by his power as a lover. He had never had to handle emotions ever. It was all so clinical. Even with his daughter-in-law, the non-sexual interaction was a bare minimum.

She gasped, unable to take the contrast between a double violation and being left so completely devoid of contact all of a sudden. She grabbed the heavy and full penis in her hand. ‘Babuji, mai aapko chahti hoon,’ she confessed for the first time since their first illicit tryst. (Babuji, I want you.)

‘Lekin iski parchayee Pritam aur mere rishte par nahi pad sakti,’ she wept, caressing his sticky messy cock. (However, this cannot cast a shadow on my relationship with Pritam my husband.)

‘Phir tum kyun mujhse dur rehne ki koshish karti ho?’ asked Thakur, mildly impatient at the interruption in sex. (Then why do you stay away from me?)

‘Ise dekhiye,’ she said, holding his penis like a trophy. (Look at this).Her hand was open, palm facing upward. Fingertips were under his scrotum, holding the weight of his balls and the entire length of his cock was in her hand, stretching just a bit beyond her wrist upto her forearm. It was dark and in contrast to her milky white, delicate skin. It covered almost three-quarters of the width of her arm. Massive and large enough for unbridled pleasure, but within the dimensions of acceptability for her cunt. In fact, he filled her insides just so perfectly.

‘Ise dekhiye. Kitna bhara aur kitni bhaari hai yeh,’ she avoided using the word ‘lund’ (penis), it just seemed too crude a word for her cultured tongue. (See this. How heavy and full this is.)

‘Iske chaht ke moh mey apne pati ko bhulne mey kitna der lagaega?’ she asked, appreciatively stroking the familiar pillar of flesh. (how much time will it take me to forget my husband in my lust for this?) Her tears had receded and she was sniffling.

‘Aur agar mujhe Pritam ne ghar se nikaal diya to mai apko kaise chodungi phir?’ she asked, tears welling up again at the thought of being exposed. (And if Pritam throws me out how do I get to fuck you?)

‘Mai apko chahti hoon babuji, lekin Pritam mera pyar hai. Mujhe aap dono chaye,’ she cried, wracked by sobs.

‘Toh takleef kya hai?’ groaned Thakur, thrusting his hips as her fingers closed, providing him with some relief. A drop of his precum dripped onto her stomach and he watched it as it slowly flowed towards her navel. (So where is the problem?)

‘I cannot get addicted to you and let him find out,’ she continued. ‘it is better I stay away.’ Her other hand stroked his broad chest lovingly and she felt worshipful of this man she felt obliged to stay away from. ‘Yeh rishta najayiz hai aur ye kisi bhi haal mey ham badal nahi sakte. Thakurain…Pritam… Oh Thakurji!’ she shivered. On impulse she pulled his face down and kissed him several times. Then she kissed him all over hands and lips searching for places to mark him with her endearments.

That her search would culminate with her lips wrapped around his cock was inevitable.

‘Tum fikar mat karo beti. Tumahara yeh babuji sab sambhal lega,’ said Thakur through gritted teeth as her small mouth failed to make enough space for his large as ever cock. (Don’t worry, girl. Your babuji will manage everything.)

‘Lekin aaj to hamey kisi ne dekh hi liya na. Shayad ye hamari akhiri baar hai ab,’ said Binita between slobbering mouthfuls of his cock. (But we did get seen today. Maybe this is our last time together.)

‘I will manage that too,’ mumbled Thakur unconvincingly, as he held his bahu’s head and fucked her all-too-small mouth. The tightness of her lips around him was maddening. ‘Tum ek santaan paida kar do, phir koi tumhe hamare khandaan se dur nahi kar sakta,’ he said, in an inspired moment. (You deliver a c***d and then no one can evict you from our f****y.)

‘Toh phir who bhi aaj kar dijiye!’ said Binita looking up at him triumphantly, and catching his eye as he was looking down to see the crazed girl suck him. (So give me that today!)

‘Akhir, Pritam aap hi ka beta hai. Toh nasal ek hi hui na. Chalo, bhar do mujhe taaki mera jagah tai ho jaye,’ she begged him, pulling at his slimy thick cock and urging him to impregnate her. (After all Pritam is your son. The genes are the same. Come and fill me and secure my place with you.)

Thakur entered her in one swift dive and plunged his cock to the deepest, holding it there. Then he leaned forward and for almost the first time rested his chest on her breasts. Her gown was in between.

‘Rukiye, rukiye,’ she gasped in frantic haste. (Wait, wait.) Thkur pulled himself off and Binita shucked off the offending garment. Her breasts were scarlet with arousal and Thakur lay on her, crushing her to himself.

For the first time in all those a****l encounters they wrapped arms around one other and held each other close. She buried her head in his neck and smeared the residue of tears on his skin. He lay on her, his hips moving like piston drivers. For the first time his focus was on cumming and not on prolonging the pleasure.

For the first time Binita’s focus was on prolonging his fucking of her. ‘Dijiye, babuji. Zor se! Haan! Taaki mai kabhi bhool na paun. Kyamalum ye hamari ankhiri baar ho. Thokiye! Aur Thokiye. Arre, thokiye naaaaaa!’ she sobbed in ecstasy as the Thakur sweated in his exertions. (Give it to me. Hard. Yes! So I never forget this ever for this may the last time we fuck. Pound me. Pound me more. Oh please pound me.)

‘Haaaaaaaaaaaarhhhh’ growled the Thakur, feeling that today his spewing was unprecedented. He seemed to have flooded her. And he had only just begun. As wave after wave crashed through him, her channel seemed to be choked. Soon he couldn’t push as the semen seemed to jam up the scope for any movement. He paused and assisted by her own surges managed to thrust a few times more.

Binita continued to be in tears and her heels beat his ass as she asked for more and more, and every drop. Her knees were raised and she hoped it was all flowing and flooding her womb. She really wanted to be pregnant by him and she wanted it today.

‘Hai mai bhar gayi, Babuji, shukriya,’ she kissed his cheek and hugged him harder than ever. (Oh I am so filled, thank you Babuji).

He lay on her, his enormous weight crushing the little woman. After several minutes she pushed at his shoulder, willing him to rise. As Thakur rose, Binita did not. She held her legs up and together and rocked herself. Her eyes drilled into Thakur’s. ‘Aur kitna raaj karma chahte hain mujh par? Ho gayi na aapki? Ab agey kya hoga kya pata,’ she murmured, stroking her breasts and her lower belly. (How much more do you want to own me. Now I am yours aren’t I. now we don’t know what will happen next.)

‘Get up and get dressed’ he ordered her brusquely. He walked over to the balcony and gathered his dhoti and tied it quickly, throwing a towel around his shoulders.

As Binita slipped into the bathroom she heard the front door open. By the time she could throw on her gown and come out to check the Thakur was gone and the house was empty.

Where was he?