People will come know

I was working in another city away from my home. I used to stay in a small rented house close to my workplace. The house belonged to a friend of my dad, so the rent was more than reasonable. Overall, things were going pretty smooth. Well, till that day. That day started pretty normal finished my work and hopped my bike. I left the main street behind and was driving randomly on inner streets in the town. I knew several people in this part of town, including my friend Amir. Well, not friend exactly. I worked on a project with him. He was probably the most teased around guy. He would always show up late and he would never look you eye to eye. It just happened that in a randomly picked project pair, he was my partner. He was OK in his work. Most of the time he insisted on coming to my place to work. He said he could not focus at home. Neither could I, when I went to his home. There was just something strange about his family. Family of didn’t like me. But when people don’t like you, still they give some kind of signals. Here it was just blank. Amir’s dad was a poet. He was somewhat well known, but I don’t think he made good money. Amir’s mom was a knockout beautiful lady. I had secret crush on her and I used to steal glances at her, and recently I had found her returning my stares. We just made long eye contact till something made either one of us looks away. Sometimes I wondered how come she ended up with this guy. Once in a while she would show up with band aides on her hand. Upon asking she said she has hand tremor problem and cut herself while cooking. Overall the household never burst out with laughter or screams. It was always that dead silence. So when that day I heard screams while passing by their house, I was surprised. The door was open. I dropped my bicycle in the yard and ran inside. Amir was knocking the bedroom door with both his fists. His dad was in kitchen and he was cooking something. Sweet smells came out of kitchen, and here Amir was panicked. “Amir, what’s the problem?” “She is not opening the door.” “Who, your mom? Is she inside?” “She is not opening the door.” He was in shock. Asking him anything more was useless. I ran to kitchen. I asked the same questions to his dad. His dad was even more panicked. He was mumbling to himself and looked at me with eyes like a scared rabbit. I went back to the bedroom door. The door was strong and it was difficult to break it open. I ran outside to a window. Amir’s mom was standing there, looking out. Her both hands covered in blood. She stood there and stared at me. I stood there for a moment, not knowing what to do. And then she collapsed. I looked around, luckily there was a heavy pipe lying there.

I picked it up and broke the window frame. Once there was enough space, I jumped through. I sat down next to her and held her hands. “Cuts are too deep. I am scared. I don’t want to die.” She said in feeble voice, holding my hands. “You are not dying. We will take you to hospital.” I said. She gave out a smile, but kind strange you-are-silly smile. I picked her up in my arms, and rested on the bed. I opened the bedroom door. “She needs to go to hospital. Call Ambulance.” I shouted. On this, Amir and his dad, both looked at me and at each other like a stupid. “Guys, Call ambulance NOW. What are you waiting for?” “People will know. We will have bad name in this locality.” Amir’s dad said. I could not believe my ears. His wife was in danger and what was this guy thinking? He looked at her. “I made you your favorite rawa pudding. Take some rest. Watch TV. You will be fine” he said in shaking voice. “What the fuck?” I lost temper. “Look, we appreciate your help. But we don’t want people to know. We have to live in this community. Thanks for opening the door. We will take care of her now. I cooked rawa pudding for her. She really likes that” He said. “She doesn’t need pudding. She needs a doctor. And then a psychologist. She has cut her hands in attempt to do suicide. Get the fucking ambulance.” None of them moved. “If you don’t call ambulance, I will call cops.” I gave the ultimatum. That worked. The ambulance drove through the streets, intermittently sounding siren and breaking the silence of that sleepy town. She was lying on the stretcher as the nurse took her temperature. She held my hand. Her eyes full of appreciation, and for once in fact she smiled at me. A real genuine smile. I-am-glad-you-are-here smile. Even in that situation, I could not help feel flattered. She squeezed my hand and I squeezed it back. I wondered what Amir and his father were doing at home. May be eating the pudding. We reached hospital and they took her in. She insisted that I be there. She had lost a lot of blood, but we made it to the hospital in time. So there was no threat to her life. The doctor thanked me and said a delay of few minutes could have been dangerous. The doctor immediately knew the type of wounds and he ordered somebody to be around her continuously. When the nurse asked her if she wanted to call her family, she said the only person she trusted at the moment was I.

I ended up being there for rest of the night. In the night, she opened up to me and I saw a woman I had never seen before. She was daughter of a rich businessman in Kolkata. She met Amir’s dad in college. He wrote poems on communism and that apparently inspired her when she was 18. When she announced her decision to marry a jobless communist poet with no social standing, her dad gave her two choices. She could have that man or she could have the family fortune. In an instant she kicked the wealth away and walked out of the door. Next day they got married in court. Their mutual friend lent them his cottage for a week or so. That was their honeymoon. When they were coming back from the honeymoon a disaster struck that would alter the course of their married life forever. As they got down on railway station late at night and walked to their home, they were being followed. As they turned on a deserted street, the followers caught up. They covered her mouth and lifted her and took her to a car. Her husband stood there dumbstruck. There was no overpowering him, because he showed no power. They simply slapped him and he ran away. The guy, who talked about bringing world revolution, left his wife alone with four rapists and ran away. She was raped all night. Next day she did not go home directly. She went to a friend of hers. She changed clothes and then went home. Her mother in law had showed up. Her mother in law called her by names for staying out the whole night. Her husband did not speak up. She cried the whole day. Late at night they got some private time. She was furious. He listened to her and showed some sympathy. But when she talked about going to cops, he refused. His reasoning: People will know. She was recovering, but soon she found that she was pregnant. She freaked out. Her husband freaked out more than her. She wanted abortion. But the doctors found that abortion would threaten her life. Finally her husband agreed to keep the child. They bought this house long away from all the relatives and family. Duly she went into labor and delivered Amir. Amir looked a lot different from his Dad. Then Amir’s dad visibly started distancing himself. They had not had sex after that horrendous incident. Finally one day he announced that he does not want to have sex with her again. All her dreams shattered, she mentally collapsed, and was never the same person again. The next day we were sitting in front of the psychologist. I made her tell the therapists everything. She was extremely reluctant. I told her that by not telling anybody, she never became happy. So why not tell somebody, like trusted licensed professionals. She was both surprised and relieved to hear how common her condition was. Apparently people in her situation hate their bodies and tend to self-mutilate. Also in the dead boring life without sex and fun, this provided her the stimulation and attention from people. So this behavior sustained.

After the session she looked a lot more relieved. She confided in me that she felt a better and less burdened at heart. In the evening they announced her discharge. And then she surprised me. “Can I come and stay with you for a couple of days? I just want a breath of fresh air.” She said. “Um.., Sure.” “I Promise I won’t be a burden on you.” “You are not a burden. Let’s go.” While taking away hospital clothes and putting on hers washed cloths, she asked my help to fasten her bra. Her hands were still wrapped in bandage. She had wrapped her sari partially and her back was bare. I could not help but admire her incredible figure. I chided myself for thinking that in the hospital. But when you are 19, female nudity is female nudity. I tried my best to distract my mind. She sensed hesitation in my fingers, she turned back and game me the sexiest smile ever. I felt like a kid caught hand-in-cookie-jar. I made some excuse and ran outside. I dropped her at my home. Made a quick trip to Amir’s house. Amir was not at home. His dad gave me weird glance with I told him the news. He also showed some strange relief and commented that she would be staying with me, in a house tucked away in a corner. So probably too many people won’t know. He volunteered to lie in case somebody asked for her, telling them she had gone to see her father who is ill. I was beyond any respect for this man. I wondered if he would run away if I slapped him. I collected some of her stuff and made my way back. I was hardly gone for an hour or so, but by the time I walked in, she had made a big difference in the house. Lots of stuff was put away nicely. Clothes were in dirty laundry basket. She wanted to work more, but I insisted she needed rest. “You are filthier than a pig” She quipped and laughed. “I know. The house is not used to have a woman around.” I said, looking into her eyes.”And a beautiful woman? Almost never.” The words just slipped and then there was silence. Both of us stood there, not knowing what to say next. She was my friend’s mother, almost 18-20 years older than me, and I was flirting with her. And then she actually blushed. It rained in the evening. One window of the house faced a creek which came to life in rain. We both sat there. We watched as the raindrops danced in the creek, on the grass, and on window seal. We watched as our breath condensed on the glass and made it hazy. She drew a smiley face in that moist hazy patch. I drew lots of hair on her bald smiley, to make it a girl. She gave me a mock slap on wrist.

The wind was getting chilly.I went and got a blanket. I wrapped it around her. Then I sat a few inches apart. She moved closer and put the blanket around my shoulders. To be a bit more comfortable, I put my hand around her and on her waist. And there I sat, with my friends mother, with a beautiful mature sexy woman in my arms, a dream come true, a fantasy come alive. I could sense the warmth of her body, I could feel the bra strap on her back, the same that I fastened. I could feel a side of her breast on top of my thumb. In a sudden energy burst, she got up, pulled me and we went outside. I was worried about her. But I did not want to stop her. We danced in rain like five year olds. When we came back, we were soaking wet. I took a towel, handed her one and went to see what time it was. “Can you come here? I need your help to change.” She called out gently. I still remember the shot of blood this sentence sent through my body. My ears were red, my heart started beating hard. My feet started trembling. I didn’t know what was going to happen next. When I came back, she was standing there. Wet from head to toe. She looked magnificent. In that moment, I truly appreciated her figure. She was incredible. Slowly she took away her sari and just stood there in blouse and a sheer underskirt she wore inside. Her wet underskirt pretty much gave away all details of her panties. I took a step closer. I noticed she was trembling too. She moved her hair away from her chest. Then she started unbuttoning her blouse from front. There was erection in my pants as more and more of her cleavage was exposed. She unbuttoned the last button and moved the blouse out and away from her shoulders. There she stood in a white, lacy bra. Wet and beautiful. Her trembling now clearly visible.

The knocking sound on door suddenly brought us back in this world. I went and opened the door. She quickly disappeared in the kitchen. I opened the door and Amir’s dad walked in. He closed his umbrella and wiped water from his forehead. He glanced around and saw her sari and blouse on floor. He looked at me. “This is not proper. She is my wife.” He said. Probably the bravest thing he did in his life. “What is not proper?” Still in her bra and underskirt, she walked out of the kitchen and fired back. Her eyes were now bursting with anger. “What is the definition of wife? Have you given me anything people give their wives? What right do you have?” I tried to walk away to give them some private time. “I want you to be here.” She stopped me. For next half hour, she spilled out fire and venom, nothing else. All that was stored in for years had exploded. She told him each and every incident she felt insulted right from the night of rape. His mouth was agape and he sweated even in that chilly air. He was shocked to know that I knew it all. Finally she calmed down and there was silence for a minute. “You should go home.” She told him.”I will come back when I am ready.” “And if somebody asks what is your relation to this young boy, then what should I say?” He sounded more helpless than sarcastic. “Tell them that only he stood for me when I needed support. Tell them that he is a very special person to me. And if they want to know more, tell them to mind their own business, if you have that much guts. Now if you will excuse me, I am getting cold and I need his help to change.” With that, she walked around and stood behind me. Now I was standing between them. “I paid for you so far. I paid for your food. I paid for your clothes. You owe me more respect than this.” That was his best defence. “Then wait a minute” She replied. “Take off all my clothes.” She told me, turning me around. I helped her out of her underskirt. Now she was only wearing bra and panties. How could Amir’s dad take this? How come he still has nerve to stand there and see a friend of their son undressing his own wife? How come he did not stomp out? I put my arms around her and unfastened her bra. I helped her out of straps. She was now naked waist up.

In the dimmed light, I was still able to appreciate her mere perfect beauty. Not even an ounce of extra fat. May be just a bit extra on belly, but that’s it. Perfect shoulders and arms, perfect waist and perfect hips. Her milky white breasts were full , round and stood firm, her pink nipples erect, possibly because of cold or because of anticipation or both. God, I could see my self control crumbling. Now there were only panties. I put my fingers in the waistband and pulled them down. In the fading evening light that came in, I still could make out her womanhood. Then I saw the panties slide down her shapely thighs and then out of her firm and tight calves, and then out of her beautiful feet. As per her instructions, I bundled her clothes, picked the bag that I had earlier got from their house and handed it all to him. She stood behind me, naked, looking at him. “There are clothes you paid for. And about food, you just bought it. I cooked. So guess that evens it out.” She closed the argument. As he took her wet clothes, his face was white. He was probably looking at his wife’s nudity after a long time. I think now the seriousness of situation hit him. “I am sorry. Please come back home.” He requested his naked wife. “I will, when I am ready.” She was firm. She walked out and handed me a towel and signaled me to help her dry her waist long hair. I ran my fingers through her hair and she smiled. After all, it was all a game, right? Just to make him jealous and make him leave? I sat in the chair, then I took her in my lap. As I rubbed her hair with towel, I wrapped my other hand around her, to keep her steady .As my hand wrapped around her shapely narrow waist and rested on her stomach, I could not help being a little frisky. I opened my hand and rested my thumb between her lovely breasts .She blankly stared at her husband and he still stood there like a stupid. The situation felt like stalemate. I had to break it. I brought my second hand at her front and cupped her breasts with both hands. She looked at me in surprise. I squeezed them gently. She partially closed her eyes and sighed. Her breasts were firm, but still yielded in my hands. The nipple slid through my fingers and ended up in my palm.

This was too much for her husband. He turned around and walked out. As my fingers continued to dig into her breasts, they changed shape. She rested her body on me, closed her eyes and sighed in satisfaction. She brought up one of her hands and ran through my hair. I continued on her breasts with my fingers. I enjoyed the feeling that I was changing the shape of her body. It felt like satisfying a strange primal male urge of being in charge. I continued to play with those beautiful things with my fingers for several minutes. Then she turned sideways. We looked in each other’s eyes. She was breathing heavy and her eyes full of desire. I got up and went to close the windows. While shutting blinds of the window, what I saw surprised me. Her husband was outside the window, trying to watch inside. God, I hated him now. If he had attacked me or if he had left the house and gone away, I would have had a tiny bit of respect and sympathy left for him. But he stood at the window and looked in like a coward. I left those blinds partially open. I helped her on her feet. She stood before me, naked, vulnerable, wounded and beautiful. I took out my shirt and threw away. I just had my jeans on. Then I embraced her. Her breasts flattened on my chest, as we were in first skin to skin half naked embrace. As I lifted her, she wrapped her legs around me. I carried her to the window and lowered her down on the seal. Her legs were still wrapped around me, and her bare back to the window. She was unaware that her husband was outside, just couple of feet away. I kissed her. A deep warm kiss. A forbidden lust. I kissed Amir’s naked mom. She wrapped both her naked legs and arms around me and smiled. I looked at Amir’s dad outside and he returned my glance. Keeping eyes locked with him, I ran my hands through her smooth, silky, waist long hair flowing on her bare back. I grasped her hair and tied them in a lose bun. It rested on her beautiful neck. Now her back was completely exposed.

With one hand, I opened the blinds fully and with other hand, I opened my zip and pulled my penis out. Opening the blinds provided her hubby with a total clear picture of the bare back of his naked wife. I brought both my hands in front and started kneading her breasts. Still challenging her husband outside in blink-first game, I engaged her in deep tongue kiss and started rubbing my penis on outer lips of her womanhood. She was already wet and inviting. Her arms were around my neck, and she was trying to push my hips in her with her feet. For a minute of two, I teased her, and him too. I pushed just the head of my penis into her and waited long time, savoring the moment, torturing both of them. He was still looking at me, and I wish I could tell him through my eyes, through telepathy, how wonderful my penis felt inside her. I wish I could tell him how warm and velvety she was inside. I wish I could tell him what he missed all these years, as we continued the blink-first challenge. Then in a slow, gentle motion, I pushed. All the way inside. She moaned softly. The soft, puffy lips between her thighs seemed to hesitate at first, then they yielded to make way for my aggression. As my skin slid on her warm, wet insides, her outer folds closed on the bottom my penis. I pulled her even more tightly. When I actually slid inside her, it sent a gentle jolt through her body. Her body was able to slide a bit forward, impaled on my penis . The jolt was unmistakably noticed even by her husband, as he saw our the distance between our waists suddenly disappearing. He just sat down, as if he suddenly lost his strength and held his head in his hands, watching in disbelief. Ah, my first woman. As I focused on the warm, soft, velvet sensation coming from the mid section of my body, I closed my eyes and forfeited the blink-first match. I don’t think it made him feel like a winner though. Her legs wrapped around my waist, her arms around my neck. My penis inside her One of my hand on her breast and the other on the back of her neck, clutching her hair bun. Our lips locked and our tongues wrestling. We could not have been closer, more intimate.

Still continuing to kiss her, I moved one hand away from her neck and waived him goodbye. He gave me a last empty look and started walking away. For a brief moment, I pitied him. I stood still for a few seconds. She was almost begging for motion. I looked at her and took her face in my palms. “This was to salute your beauty and charm and also to complete your revenge with your husband.” I said. She kept looking at me. She surged closer to me and pulled me forward letting my pelvis burying into her completely. Her pussy felt warm, wet, and gripping. I reached under her and squeezed her ass as he pumped in and out of her. “Baapre Baap,” Aunty panted as my dick gathered momentum. “I love it!” she said between thrusts. I soon started feeling the pressure in my balls as moments ticked while my dick kept pounding her pussy with enormous power. She approached her second orgasm. I felt being at the top of the world as we both fucked like animals as if that was the last day of our life. I was inside her grip as her legs had locked me around. A few more of my long, rapid thrusts were followed with my cock getting to the farthest of her pussy. She screamed as she had my cock almost at the top of her womb. She swirled, swayed and screamed out her joy, as every time my dick went in and out of her moist clit, she was experiencing mild tremors in her body. I felt her pussy oozing as we reached the climax and soon released a series of thick loads inside her. Her eyes were full of tears. I carried her to the bedroom. I slowly lowered her down on bed, tucked her in blanket and walked out. I stretched on sofa, looking at the window seal where I passed the biggest test of my strength. We continued this for about another seven years. She also introduced me to two of her friends, who were similarly neglected by her husband. I owe a lot to her. We still meet and are very good friends in spite of the age difference. [email protected].