For MATURE lovers

[jay]

For MATURE lovers

This real life experience happened to me three years ago. At that time I
had just started working in a shoe-making factory in Tamilnadu, as an
accountant. I was twenty-four, unmarried, and had no experience in matters
of sex, whatsoever. I mean, I used to think about having sex and I used to
masturbate. But I had never had any real experience with a woman. For one
thing, I was shy. Another, I abhorred the very thought of having sex with
a prostitute. But sexual desire in me was there in plenty. I was
masturbating almost every night, and I was also wondering if that was
affecting my health adversely. I was a friendly guy at my workplace.
Everyone liked me because I had a good sense of humor. I was from Kerala
and I was not able to speak Tamil well. But I was picking up fast. There
was one other malayalee in our company, a boy of nineteen named Shiju. He
ran errands and did odd jobs. He was of a poor background. He was not a
talkative person. And, even though we belonged to the same state, we were
not friends in the real sense. We knew each other, that's all. From my
side, I had never let him feel that I was keeping a distance from him
because of our positions, me an accountant and him a mere labourer in the
factory. The fact was that he was not friendly with anyone. He was an
aloof sort of creature. When Onam came I asked permission from my boss to
go to Kerala. He was reluctant at first, since it was a new factory and
work was going on in full swing, but seeing that I was already home-sick
from being away from my hometown for a long time, he granted me a leave of
five days. So I got ready to go to Palakkad, the district to which I
belonged. I was to leave by the six o'clock bus in the evening and catch
the Trivandrum mail at Katpadi railway station in the middle of the night.
While I was hurriedly doing the packing, Shiju came to my room. He too had
asked for leave, but the boss had declined straight away. "What is the
matter, Shiju?" I asked. "Want me to bring you something?" "No," he
replied. But by the expression on his face I understood that he wanted
something from me. It was usually money. He used to borrow small amounts
from me when he had to urgently send money to his home. He said now, "Will
you do me a favor, sar?" "Name it, Shiju," I said benevolently. "Sar, if I
had got this leave for Onam I was planning to bring my mother here." "Your
mother? Here? Why" "Family problems, sar. Ever since my sister has got
married my poor mother is not getting any peace of mind at home. She is
not at all treated nicely. Her daughter and son-in-law want to drive her
out of the house." "Oh. But, Shiju, where will you keep her here? In your
room? It is so small and you are sharing it with someone?" "That person is
about to move. And I am sure that we will manage, sar." He waited a few
seconds. Then he said, "If sar don't mind, can my mother accompany you
when you are coming back here? She is a village woman, sar, and has not
seen much of the outside world." I thought about it. I had no problem with
that. "Where will she board the train?" I asked. "At Palakkad Junction
itself. I will convey the message to her through telephone that she is to
meet you at the station." "All right, Shiju." So I went home for Onam and
spent the festive occasion with my parents at their house. My elder sister
and her family also came there. It was a nice experience. I forgot all
about Shiju and his mother and remembered about them only when my leave was
over and I was getting ready to go to Palakkad railway station. I wondered
then how I was going to recognize Shiju's amma. She should be about forty
or forty-five, I thought. But how would I recognize her. Palakkad railway
station is crowded most of the time. But still, I was able to locate
Shiju's amma without difficulty. Or, to be more exact, she spotted me.
Her daughter and son-in-law had come with her to see her off. They had
together reached the railway station early in the evening, after a long
bus-ride of three hours from their village. She had seen me standing on
the platform and had pointed me out to the son-in-law, who had then come up
to me and asked me whether I was Anandan Menon of the Duro Shoe Factory. I
asked Shiju's mother (her name was Padma) how she was able to recognize me.
"Shiju gave me a good description of you, sar?" She replied. I looked at
her and my very first thought was that she did not at all look like Shiju.
Shiju was dark and lean. She was a fair-complexioned woman and looked
healthy. She seemed to be around thirty-five, but she could have been
older. Her skin had a healthy shine to it and perhaps that was making her
look younger. I gently asked her not to call me `sar'. "Call me Nandu,
Amma," I told her. "Everyone at my home calls me Nandu." At which she
smiled, a good-natured smile. But she did not stop calling me `sar', which
I found somewhat embarrassing. I noticed that all three of them were
wearing sandalwood-paste marks on their forehead. "Oh, I see that you have
been to the temple," I said. There was a small but famous temple close to
the railway station. They all nodded with a smile. A moment later, the
daughter and son-in-law left the place without even saying a proper
goodbye. I guessed that they were too eager to get rid of Padma. I noticed
that she was hurt by their conduct, and she did her best to hide it from
me. We sat down on a bench and did not talk much. It started raining and
the platform became a crowded place. Our train came at nine. We boarded
it in the general compartment and, though it was packed, we were lucky to
find a place to sit. She was reluctant to sit next to me at first and I
had to ask her a couple of times to take her seat before it was occupied by
someone else. She sat down and fell asleep very quickly, unknowingly
resting her head on my shoulder. Maybe the bus journey in the evening had
been very tiring. I was afraid of sleeping because we would reach Katpadi
somewhere in the middle of the night or in the early morning. And I did
not want to miss that. I had to positively reach my workplace the next
day. So I tried my best to keep awake. But I dozed off after a while and
woke up only when someone cried out that the train had reached Katpadi. I
hurriedly woke up Shiju's amma and we got down just in time. I looked at
my watch. It was five o'clock in the morning. The train was a bit late.
We started to go out of the station. I was hoping to find a taxi outside.
Buses would not start running until it was eight. Imagine my dismay when I
learnt from the station-master that there would be no taxi or buses plying
that day because of a twenty-four hours Tamil Nadu bandh called by a
political party in the wake of some communal riots in certain parts! "Tell
me, is there no way we can find a taxi?" I asked him. "Not even if the
gods ask," he replied with a smile. I thought about it. It was a
four-hour bus journey from Katpadi to my place of work. So walking that
long distance was simply out of question. "What shall we do, sar?" Shiju's
mother asked me gently in a concerned voice. "Don't worry, amma. We will
find a way." I asked the station-master if we could stay in the
waiting-room of the station until the bandh was over. He told me that we
could, but that it was not at all safe so he would not recommend it. Then
I asked him if there was a lodge nearby. He said that there was one. But
he was afraid that it would not contain any vacant rooms. The bandh had
been a surprise for many people who had got down at that station. Anyway,
I and Shiju's mother went to this lodge, a dilapidated two-storey building
and met the person who worked as the receptionist. And he said that there
was just one room vacant, but it was too small for two people to stay.
"There is no bigger room?" I asked. He shook his head. He said, "But you
both will be able to adjust, since you are only mother and son. It is
better for you to take it, sar, since it is the last. Today everything
will be shutdown and no vehicles will run. It is better to stay indoors
today." So I took it. He gave me the key and directed us to go up a narrow
flight of stairs, to the very end of a dark corridor having a row of tiny
rooms. Room No.69. Before we went to our room I used the telephone at the
reception desk to call my boss and tell him about the situation. He was
sympathetic and told me that he was aware of the bandh and since it was an
unforeseen event he could extend my leave for one more day. The room was
no bigger than a bathroom. Infact, it was so small that it could have been
easily mistaken for a cupboard. Somehow a tiny bed had been squeezed into
it. It had a small mirror on the wall and a tiny window with a single
shutter. There was a dirty-looking wash-basin fitted under the mirror. I
looked at the room and wondered how we were going to adjust there. Shiju's
mother read my thoughts and she suddenly said that she could stay out in
the corridor since it would be difficult for both of us to adjust in that
tiny room. In the corridor? I quickly smiled and said that there was no
need of doing that, that it was alright, that somehow we should be able to
manage. We put our things under the bed. The room did not obviously have
an attached toilet or bathroom. We would have to use the combined toilets
and bathrooms at the other end of the corridor. I undid the bolts of the
small window and pushed the shutter open. Immediately, I closed it again
because an unbearable stench entered the room through the window. "Ugh!
It is so awful!" I exclaimed. I peeped out through the dusty glass of the
window and saw that the area below, which was actually the backyard of the
lodge, was being used as a garbage dumping ground. "The place is full of
garbage. We cannot open this window. I'll report it to the receptionist."
I looked at her. She looked very tired. "Amma, do you want to use the
toilet?" I asked her. She shook her head. She looked nervous and worried,
a rustic woman, getting a rough taste of the outside world. I put a hand
on her shoulder and gently told her that there was no need to worry. She
smiled briefly. I asked her to lie on the bed and rest while I went to the
toilet to freshen up. She told me that it was okay, that she was not
tired. But her face told me otherwise. "Amma," I told her, "I am like your
son. I have a mother just like you at my home in Palakkad. So don't be
shy before me, okay." She smiled and nodded. She seemed to relax a bit
now. But she told me that she would not use the bed, that she would lie on
the floor. "Why? No, amma," I said. "You lie on the bed. I will lie on
the floor." When she heard this tears rose up in her eyes. She said, "You
are a very good man, sar. I wish my son-in-law was like you. No, let me
sleep on the floor. I am used to sleeping on the floor, son." I realized
that it was futile to argue with her on this matter. "Okay," I said. "But
use the bed now, since it is free at the moment." She nodded, but still
looked reluctant. The receptionist appeared at the doorway and announced
that if we required breakfast and lunch he could supply it from a nearby
restaurant. The restaurant was shut, but its kitchen was open. So I
ordered some idlis and dosas and tea. I also complained to him about the
foul smell. He said that he would do something about it and left. I took
out my toilet items and went out of the room. Just as I had expected, the
bathroom was no better. It looked like it had not been cleaned for a year.
I took a bath and returned fifteen minutes later. I found that the door of
our room was bolted from inside. I knocked lightly and she said from
inside, "Just a moment, sar." When she opened the door a minute later I
noticed that she had changed her clothes. She was now in a yellow sari
with maroon border. The sari looked old and faded. She probably wore it
at home. She was getting ready for her stay in the lodge. She told me
that the food had come. I asked her then why she did not start eating and
she said that she wanted to wait until I returned. After that she went to
the bathroom for a quick freshening up and then we had our breakfast
together, sitting on the small bed. She now started asking me questions
about my family. She asked me whether I was married. I said no. She
asked me about how Shiju was doing at the workplace. I answered all her
questions gently. Evidently, she had grown to like me. But that was not a
new thing. Everybody who got to know me liked me. From her words I came
to know that Shiju had already told her many things about me and my work at
the factory. Thus we sat talking until we had finished all the idlis and
dosas. Then she got up to wash her hand.

[jay]

As she stepped towards the
wash-basin, turning her back to me, I saw that a bit of her sari had got
trapped in the crack of her bottom. Even as I watched she brought her hand
behind her and gently smoothened the folds of her sari. Then she saw me
looking at her through the corner of her eye and all my blood rushed to my
face. To hide my embarrassment I started looking for my chappals under the
bed. After washing her hands she gathered the used banana leaves (these
were used instead of plates), rolled them into a ball and tossed it out of
the window. After that we decided to sleep, since we were both tired. She
took out an old bedcover from her bag and spread it on the floor. I shut
and bolted the door. She laid down on the floor. I once again asked her
to use the bed while I slept on the floor. She declined. I laid down on
the bed. It was a small bed, but it had a thick and soft mattress on it. I
looked at her. She was lying with her back to me. Above us, a small but
noisy ceiling-fan was whirring away, providing some relief from the heat.
It was only seven, but it was getting hot. "Tell me about your village," I
said to her, hoping that she would turn around and then we would make
conversation until we felt sleepy. She did not respond. She was already
asleep. It was true that both of us had slept on and off on the train
during the night. But I think that that had actually made us more tired. I
yawned and closed my eyes. Soon, I too slept. I woke up suddenly at
around eleven. The sun was high up in the sky and a bright light was
coming into the room through the small window. Sunlight was falling
directly on my face. The power supply had gone and the old, dirty-looking
ceiling-fan had stopped working. The heat was intense. And why not? The
only door and window of the room were shut. I was simply bathing in sweat.
I started to turn over on my side, and then I froze when I looked at
Shiju's mother. She was asleep. I could hear her gentle snoring. She was
still lying on her side with her back to me. Just like me, she perspiring
heavily. The faded yellow sari she was wearing had become quite
disorderly. I don't know how, but her sari and her petticoat had moved a
long way up from its position at her feet, and her legs were bare almost up
to the thighs. It was probably the heat. In her sleep she must have
kicked at her sari. I looked away the moment my eyes fell on her bare
legs. But when I realized that she was fast asleep, I let my eyes slowly
return and rest on them. And my heart began to beat wildly. I remembered
how earlier when she had got up from the bed to go to wash-basin her sari
had got caught in the crack of her ass. While she was washing her hands at
the wash-basin she had stood still in a very self-conscious manner. She
was probably thinking that I was looking at her. And I was! I remembered
how I had nervously glanced at her ass several times. Shiju's mother was a
shapely woman. As I said, she was healthy looking and had an attractive
face which men would not mind giving a second look. But the features that
stood out prominently - quite prominently - on her person were her tits and
ass. Her tits were big. Oversized, actually. But for a woman of forty
they were quite firm and well rounded. And, her ass. A more shapely ass I
had not set my eyes upon. It was big. Enormous, actually. But not at all
misshapen. Far from that, the cheeks of her ass were firm and were the
shapes of bubbles. I guess she had what you would call bubble-butts. Ever
since I had met her my eyes had been inadvertently moving to her ass. I
had watched, albeit unconsciously, how the cheeks of her great ass moved
when she walked, one jerking up and the other down, and vice versa. And,
at least once, I think she had caught me looking at what I had been looking
at. I tell you, this woman was well stacked. And, now, I was finding
myself quite unable to take my eyes off her bare legs. The way she was
lying was making her large hip stand out quite prominently. I found myself
slowly sidling to the edge of the bed to have a closer look. And my heart
kept on beating like a bass drum in my chest. Her sari was half-way up her
fat, round thighs. I saw that her thighs were sweaty. Sweat-beads were
rolling down her soft skin and trickling down upon the bed-cover on which
she was lying. Shiju's mother wore her sari in an unusual manner. She
wrapped the pallu around her torso like a shawl. I had been seeing that
ever since I saw her yesterday. And she had a good reason for doing so.
She had amazingly large tits. The first thing any man would notice about
her would be her large tits. And she was in the habit of covering her
torso completely with her sari in order to make their bulkiness less
obvious to prying eyes. She was a big woman and this style lend her a
little grace too when she walked. In sharp contrast, now her sari was not
covering even an inch of her upper body. Heavy perspiration had made her
white blouse totally wet. The skin of her back was showing through the
thin material of it. And she was not wearing a bra. But that was hardly
surprising, because village women were not in the habit of wearing one.
Her back was towards me, and even from where I was lying, I could see a
significant portion of one of her big, round tits. They must be heavy.
She had put them on the floor, one tit positioned on top of the other. I
could see that a lot of her top tit was popping out of the neckline of her
blouse. Even as I watched, she moved her legs and torso and laid down in
an almost face-down position. Her sari moved up a little more around her
thighs. Oh, god! What am I looking at! She had large thighs which
matched her bountiful ass. I looked at her bare waist. It was fairer than
the rest of her and the ample flesh there was doubled up in a very sensuous
manner. The folds of her flesh was making a lovely crevice there through
which her sweat was trickling and rolling down her back. How would her
bare ass look? I found myself wondering. Now I had a great longing to see
her bare ass. My cock was already erect and I was feeling uncomfortable. I
put my hand into my lungi and underwear and adjusted the position of my
boy. And, instead of pulling my hand out, I kept it inside my underwear and
began to slowly stroke my cock while keeping my eyes fixed on her sexy
thighs. And I kept wondering how her enormous ass would look bare. After
some time, the thought of her bare ass simply began to drive me crazy. My
lust and excitement reached such a peak stage that I decided to push her
sari up over her great ass with my own hand! What if she woke up? She
would not. She was snoring steadily. She was deep asleep. I just had to
see her bare ass! I knew that if I pushed her sari up just a little I
would see her bare ass, because I was sure that she wore no panties.

[jay]

Village women did not wear one; moreover, it was not at all difficult to
make out the shape of the cheeks of her ass through her sari when she
walked. I had a very strong hunch that underneath her sari and her
petticoat she had nothing else on. I would see, if I lifted her sari up.
My heart beating wildly, I moved my unsteady hand down. I slowly put two
fingers between her thighs and under her petticoat and sari. I did it
extra carefully, so as not to touch her skin. I took a deep breath and
looked at her. Her snoring had never stopped. Now I tugged at her
petticoat and sari. What a disappointment! Her sari was stuck under her
thighs. It could not be moved up even an inch. I tried again. This time
with some force. But her sari would not budge. I realized that it was a
futile exercise. Then my finger-tips brushed against her skin. And she
moved! I withdrew my arm with the speed of lightening. She brought her
hand to her ass and scratched the area I had accidentally touched. Her
eyes were still shut. But she was waking up. She suddenly opened her eyes
and saw me. "Aiyo!" she exclaimed and sat up. She saw that her thighs
were bare, and quickly pulled down her sari to cover them. There was a
look of panic in her eyes. She looked at me and she saw the same panic in
my eyes. She also saw that I was glancing at her tits. Now in a seated
position, her bosom was really marvelous to look at. She wore no bra. And
the neckline of her blouse was so ridiculously low that her bulky boobs
were all but hanging out through it. Because she was bra-less, and because
of their sheer weight, her oversized tits hung loose, reaching almost upto
her navel. But wherever they were, they were looking firm and round. She
hurriedly caught the end of her sari and wrapped it around her shoulders.
And she sat with her back against the wall. I was filled with shame. I
moved and laid facedown on the bed, digging my nose into the pillow. I
just lay like that, wishing with all my heart that the world around me
would disappear somehow. I don't know how long I lay on the bed like that.
In between, I heard her undo the bolt of the door and step out of the room.
Maybe, she went to the toilet. After some time, I fell asleep. I dreamt
that I was travelling in a train, in a crowded general compartment. The
heat was intense and everyone was sweating hard. I dreamt that I fell
asleep and somebody stole my things. So when I heard Shiju's amma call my
name I sat up with a start. "What..?" I exclaimed, my mind in a jumble.
"This man is calling," she said, pointing at the receptionist standing at
the door. "Sar, I've brought the lunch," he said. "Do you want supper
too?" "Er...yes..." I said. I understood that he wanted money. I got up
and handed him a fifty rupee note which I fished out of my purse. He took
it and went away. Then, without even looking at Padma, I went to the
toilet. When I returned, she had arranged the food on banana leaves. We
sat down on the bed and ate in silence. I avoided her eyes. She, too,
tried not to look at me. By now, the electricity was back, and the old fan
over our heads was whirring away. "Will Shiju be worried?" she said after
some time. It was then I realised that I had failed to tell my boss in the
morning that Shiju's mother was with me and that he should convey this
message to the boy. "It's all right," I said, "My boss will tell Shiju
that we are in Katpadi." I mentally made a note to go down to the reception
after having my lunch and call my boss. I would ask him to tell Shiju that
there was nothing to worry. Or was there? I looked at her. Now that the
ice was broken, I was getting the courage to look in her direction. She
was looking down at her plate. For the first time I noticed that she had
such sensual lips. Her eyes were downcast, but I think she saw, through
the corner of her eye, that I was looking fixedly at her face. I looked
away. I looked at her face a moment later and her eyes were still
downcast. But she was aware that I was looking at her. I looked away
again, suddenly loosing the courage to look at her or talk to her. I
realized that some things had changed between us. She was looking more
nervous. The casual manner in which she had talked with me while we were
having breakfast in the morning could not be found now. And my mind was
filled with guilt because of what I had done. I cursed myself again and
again for my conduct. I looked at her and longed to tell her to forget all
about the morning's episode. I began to think about something to talk to
her, to open up a conversation. I already knew that she was a widow.
Shiju had told me that he had lost his father five years ago. But I
noticed that she was wearing a bindi on her forehead. Widows did not wear
bindis. For ornaments, she had on a set of tiny gold earrings, a thin gold
chain and a nose-ring. The nose-ring gave a sensual look to her face. Had
she married again? "Your husband...?" I asked slowly. She looked at me.
There was something in her eyes which told me that I had touched a painful
part of her life. "He took another woman some years ago," she told me a
little awkwardly, a tinge of sadness evident in her voice. So Shiju had
lied to me. I did not ask her more questions on this topic. Lunch over,
she rolled up the leftovers and the used banana leaves in a sheet of old
newspaper and tossed it out of the tiny window. The foul smell wafted in
when the window was opened. She closed it again quickly. She stood
washing her hands at the wash-basin and, in spite of the guilty feeling, I
glanced at her ass. Oh, it was so shapely. So big and round. She wheeled
around suddenly and caught me red-handed. I looked away in a hurry. I too
got up and washed my hands. It was half past three in the afternoon now.
"I'm going down to call my boss," I announced and went out of the room. I
felt inept calling my boss again, and that too for the purpose of just
conveying a message to a labourer in the factory. But it had to be done.
Otherwise Shiju would fret. He deliberately kept himself away. What if he
did not even know anything about the bandh. I dialed my boss' number three
times. But the call would not get through. Something was wrong with the
phone lines. I suspected that it was because of the bandh. "I am unable
to reach my boss right now," I told Padma when I came back to the room.
"I'll try again some time later." She looked at me and nodded. "The
receptionist is saying that it is not safe to venture out of this building
even now," I told her. "Oh." "What a day!" I said tiredly and sat down on
the bed. "Tell me about your village," I said to her. There was nothing
else to do other than make conversation. And I liked the idea of sitting
and just looking at her face. I had left the door of the room ajar. She
showed some reluctance to sit on the bed. She looked at me nervously.
Probably she had lost her trust in me after the morning's little incident.
I longed to reassure her that I would never harm her. She moved around
uneasily for a moment. But when I gestured her to sit down, she did,
slowly. She did not sit properly. She just placed her bottom on the
corner of the bed, keeping her feet on the floor. She started telling me
about her village. The name of her village was Devakipuram. It was a
small village with no schools, no hospitals, nothing.

[jay]

As she talked, I
kept looking at the movements of her sexy lips. She had large, soft lips
which moved in a refined manner when she talked. But I was sure that she
was illiterate. I asked her if she had attended school, and she said that
for five or six years. She used to go to a school in the adjoining
village. But when her mother died she had to stop her education and do
house-work. She went on talking and I kept on throwing glances at her nice
lips. Soon, I was having a hard on. I imagined her lips kissing my cock,
and then parting them to slowly take me in. She suddenly looked into my
eyes and realised that I was not paying attention to what she was saying. I
think she even got a whiff of what was going on in my mind. She turned her
eyes away with a mildly hurt expression on her face. She became a little
uneasy. But she kept on talking, telling me more about her life in her
village, the people there, the business there. I realised that she was one
talkative woman, so unlike Shiju. Shiju would have sat with me all this
while and not a word would have escaped his lips. Instead, I would be
having to do all the talking. Here Padma was doing all the talking. On
the other hand, she could be talking so much in order to hide her
nervousness. But she was a good talker. She liked to talk, especially
about her village. That was apparent. And all I had to do here was
listen. I was a good listener. Everyone told me so. The manner in which
she was talking to me was making me feel like I had known her for many
years. She was a village woman, untouched by any urban sophistication,
whatsoever, and she was narrating to me the stories of her life and her
village as if I was a long lost relative of her. Emboldened by this sudden
intimacy on her part, I started gazing at her lips quite fixedly. She, on
her part, was aware of what I was doing, but she was ignoring it completely
now. She was nervous, I knew that. I could see that in the manner she was
avoiding my eyes and talking very quickly. It was as if she was lost in
her own world. From her lips I slowly shifted my gaze down to her
melon-sized boobs. Initially, I just threw occasional glances at her
jutting tits. But slowly, as the desire in me reached a boiling point, I
got brave enough to keep my eyes glued to her beautiful bosom, even when
she was looking straight at me. My heart was beating fast, though. She
paused, unable to continue because I was looking so unashamedly at her
boobs. Though she tried her best to hide her enormous tits with her sari,
it was simply impossible to make something so big less evident in the eyes
of an onlooker. I was not even turning my eyes away. And she was suddenly
no longer able to ignore my conduct. She stopped talking. I looked into
her eyes. She slowly turned around and sat with her back to me. "What
happened?" I asked gently. She did not reply. I did not ask her again.
It was a superfluous question. I looked at her. Despite the ceiling-fan
working at top speed, she was sweating like anything. She wiped her face
gently with her sari and sat still, looking down at the floor. It was an
awkward moment. I don't know then what came over me. I moved closer to
her and touched her shoulder. I even forgot that the door of our room was
open and anyone passing in the corridor would see us. But our room was at
the very end of the corridor. If anyone was coming, surely footsteps would
be heard. "Sar, I am a poor woman," she whispered in a hurt voice. I saw
that her whole body was shaking. I looked at her and noticed that tears
had suddenly swelled up in her eyes. "You said that I was like your
mother." These words from her fell on me like melted wax. I was suddenly
filled with so much shame and embarrassment that I could not stay in that
room with her any longer. I stood up and stepped out of the room. My mind
in a turmoil, I climbed down the staircase and reached the reception area.
"What happened?" asked the receptionist. "Are you not feeling well?" "No,
I am fine." I asked him if it was safe now to venture out of the lodge. He
said that he was not sure. Nevertheless, I went out of the lodge. The
street outside wore a deserted look. But that could be more because of the
afternoon heat than the bandh. I walked upto the railway station and sat
on a bench on the platform. The railway station was empty. I just sat
there and looked blankly into space. After some time, I laid down and shut
my eyes. I returned to the lodge at about five o'clock. The receptionist
was not in his seat. I waited for him for a while. When he came I used
the telephone to call my boss. This time the call went through and I was
able to talk to him. I talked with him for a while and requested to him to
convey my message to Shiju. I gave him the telephone number of the lodge
and hung up. Then I went upstairs. By then I had made up my mind to ask
Padma to forgive me and to forget that such a shameful episode had ever
happened between us. What I had done was unpardonable. I decided that I
would tell her that I was out of my mind for a while, that I was young and
unmarried and that I was a fool. When I reached our room I found the door
shut. But it was not bolted. I called her name a couple of times. When
no answer came, I pushed the door open gently. I found her lying on the
floor, asleep. My blood rushed up to my face. Her sari was once again
disorderly, just like in the morning. And, just like in the morning, the
power supply had gone. The room was hot as an oven. She was lying on her
back, with a hand resting on her large belly. Her sari did not cover her
bosom. Her huge, towering boobs, packed tightly in her white blouse, were
pointing directly towards the ceiling. Her blouse was now totally
drenched. It was as if she had just taken a shower with it on. From where
I stood, it looked like she was not wearing a blouse. The color of the
skin of her boobs, the nipples... everything was visible to me. Her
semi-naked tits were gently rising and falling with her breathing. Her
palm was placed upon her navel. I gulped for the umpteenth time that day.
What should I do? Should I step out of the room and gently close that door
and go out for a walk again? I looked at those towering tits. Oh, they
were so much big and round! Just as I liked them. Just as I had always
fantasized. Slowly, I closed the door and bolted it without making a
sound. I looked at her. She had not moved from her place. Just like in
the morning, she was deep asleep. I gently sat down upon the bed, all the
while gazing at her enormous tits. I had to touch them. I just had to.
Gone were the guilt and the shameful feelings from my head, for my mind was
suddenly overpowered by some other more down-to-earth thoughts. I slowly
kneeled down beside her on the floor. I had to touch those fantastic
boobs. The next moment I put my hands on them. She opened her eyes with a
start. "Aiyo!..sar!" She exclaimed. She looked at me with overwhelming
fear in her eyes. I squeezed her tits. "Sar..." She tried to push my
hands away. But I was too strong for her. "Please..." I mumbled to her
awkwardly. "Let me...do it..." She tried to get up. I pinned her down
with my elbow. I just went on kneading those huge, round boobs. Yes, they
were firm and their skin was smooth. "Sar...you said...I was like your
mother..." she said, suddenly tears beginning to form in her eyes.
"I...cannot help it...please...." I tried to climbed upon her, never
leaving my tight hold on her ample boobs. "Sar, let me go!" She cried. I
looked at her face. The teardrops that were clinging to the corner of her
beautiful eyes let go and rolled down. I put my legs on either sides of
her and started to press my lips upon hers. Suddenly she put both her
hands on my shoulders and pushed me with an amazing strength. "Sar!" She
was a village woman, used to hard work; she was strong, and I was pushed
back, away from her and I fell heavily on the floor, my head bumping
against the edge of the bed. She got up quickly and came to me and put her
hand at the back of my head, stroking it. "Oh...I'm sorry...I..." she said
in a deeply concerned voice. My head surely hurt. But at that moment I
was not concentrating on where my head hurt. I was concentrating on the
view before my eyes. Her extraordinary boobs. Her old blouse with the
ridiculously low neckline, either because it was stitched that way, or
because it was worn out from use. The top portions of her huge boobs were
billowing out through the neckline, the cleavage looking like it could
swallow an elephant. The blouse clung to her as if it was a mud-pack. I
looked at her jutting nipples seen through the thin material of her blouse.
Altogether, it was a magnificent view. She kept on stroking my head and
saying sorry. Suddenly she saw were I was looking. She hurriedly covered
herself with her sari. "Are you hurt?" She asked me. "No." She looked at
me with tearful eyes for a second or two. Then she slowly stood up. I too
climbed upon my feet and sat on the bed. She looked at me and wiped the
tears on her cheeks with her sari.

[jay]

I looked at her. I saw how her sari
was clinging to her big belly and also giving a suggestion of her dark
navel. Her sari was sticking to her blouse, too, needlessly giving me a
very good idea of the marvelous rotundity of her big, heavy tits. She was
so wet from her perspiration that it was almost as if she had just poured a
bucketful of water over her head. My gaze must have disturbed her. She
realized that her sari was not covering her body in the manner that she
wanted to. So she gently turned her back to me and stood silently. I
stroked my head and, feigning that I was feeling a little dizzy, I slowly
moved and sat directly behind her. I wanted to be close to her glorious
ass. She looked at me through the corner of her eye. I looked at her huge
ass. Her sari was clinging to it and showing the rotund shape of its
cheeks. She knew I would look at her ass and she was standing very
self-consciously. "I called my boss," I said to her. "He said he would
tell Shiju that everything was fine." She did not say anything. She just
gazed at me through the corner of her eye. I got up and stood closer to
her. She stiffened her body, almost as if she believed that I was going to
pounce upon her. "I am a poor woman, sar..." she said gently, cowering
slightly. "Please don't harm me." "Amma," I said softly, "I won't harm
you...I promise..." She turned her head and looked at me. Her cheeks were
tear-stained and they glistened. "I thought you are a good man," she said
suddenly, looking directly into my eyes. I looked away. I almost decided
to stop this whole matter and go out of the room once again. But then I
put a trembling hand on her shoulder. "I...I just cannot control myself,"
I whispered, my voice shaking. I must have sounded very desperate, for she
stiffened yet again. She stiffened not because I touched her, but because
of the sheer desperation in my voice. But she did not say anything.
"Please..." I whispered, "let me...let me touch you..." "Sar...!"
"Please...just once...please. I just want to hug you, that's all." She
shut her eyes tight. I very slowly encircled my arms around her. It was a
most decisive moment. Any strong reaction from her would surely make me
step away from her and I would lose my courage. She started to struggle a
little like a fish out of water, trying to free herself. But she struggled
weakly. The weakness was both physical and mental. Physical, because of
the oppressive heat. We were both bathed in sweat. Mental, because she
had never imagined when she met me yesterday that she would have to go
through this kind of agony. She was hurt when her husband left her. Maybe
she had loved him dearly. Maybe she still loved him and hoped that one day
he would come back. She had given me a hint that theirs had been a love
marriage. Her father had ill-treated her all along and she had found real
solace in the arms of this man with whom she had eloped when she was hardly
eighteen. She kept on struggling and I did not let her go. "Oh,
please...just let me hug you for a while...please..." I whispered to her,
my lips close to her ear. "But...Sar. This is not right." "I don't care."
"I am Shiju's amma...?" she exclaimed. "And you said.." "Please..." I
moved closer to her, pressing my already hardened cock to the crack of her
glorious ass. "Aiyo!" she exclaimed, "if... if someone saw us..." "Nobody
in this world will know." I tightened my grip on her body and she stood
stiffly, but still. "Oh...god..." she said to herself. I moved yet closer
to her and hugged her properly, pressing my arms against her belly, may
hurting her a little. "Nobody will know," I whispered to her again and
again as I started rubbing my lips against her ear. I planted a gentle
kiss on the nape of her neck. I stroked her large belly with my exploring
palms. I think she seemed to relax. I whispered into her ear, "Shall we
lie down?" It was as if she had heard a gunshot. She immediately started
struggling again and tried to free herself from my grip. But I held her in
place easily, because she seemed to be melting. It was almost as if she
was on the verge of fainting. "Aiyo...god this is not right..." she
gasped, shaking her head and tears freely rolling down her cheeks.
"Please," I said, "I just want hug you for a while...that's all. I won't
tell any one about what took place in this room. Nobody will know. Come,
let us lie down for a while." Without waiting to see whether she had
acquiesced to my proposal or not, I removed my arms from around her and
laid down on the bed, resting my head gently on the pillow. She remained
standing like that for a long time. I kept looking at her. Then I touched
her lightly on the arm. "Sar," she said without looking at me, "this is a
sin." "I dont' care." I held her hand and pulled her towards the bed.
"Just for today," I told her, "forget that this is a sin. Just for today."
I tugged at her arm again. With a jerk she withdrew her hand. I touched
her ass. "Please," I said. She wiped her face with her sari and said, "If
somebody found out I won't be able to live." "Nobody will find out..." I
caught hold of her hand. This time she did not pull it back. She slowly
stepped back from where she was standing and sat down on the bed. My heart
thumped wildly. She slowly turned her torso around, lifted up her leg and
laid down beside me. She avoided my gaze. I noticed that there was a
timid expression on her face. I put an arm around her and drew her body
close to me, pressing her heavy tits against my bosom. I whispered into
her ear, "Don't be afraid. Nobody in this world will know." I shifted and
moved closer to her. She pressed her chin against my shoulder so that she
would not have to look me in the eye, and lay still. Her body did not
relax. I started running my palm gently all over here back, wetting my
palm with her sweat. After some time, she slackened the hold on herself
and relaxed a little. She did not touch me with her hands. She kept them
between our bodies, as if in defense. I kissed her on the forehead. It
felt very strange, kissing a woman of almost forty whom I had met only
yesterday. But I had kissed her not out of love or lust. I was simply
nervous, since this was my first time with a real woman. And, that too,
such a woman. Although to me my kiss seemed like a nervous, impulsive
action, it actually seemed to relax her. So I let my lips brush against
her forehead again and again. I moved a little down so that my face came
was in level with hers. I looked at her. She shut her eyes. "You are a
beautiful woman," I said, studying her face. Yes, she had a beautiful
face. And sensual too. The tiny ring on the left side of her nose
heightened her sensuality greatly. That, and her full lips. She had
round, healthy cheeks with the smooth skin of a sixteen year old. Her chin
was lovely, too. Altogether, the features of her face created an aura of
that was sultry. I could just look at her face and masturbate, and I be
totally satisfied. Such was the sensuality of her face. She did not open
her eyes. I kissed her lips once, hard and noisily. She opened her eyes
briefly, just to glance at me, and then closed them again. I took her fat
lower lip between my teeth and pulled at it so hard that she winced. Then,
slowly, I made her move her arms away from her bosom. Her boobs. Words
fail me when I try to describe the beauty of her boobs. Yes, they were
big. They were oversized. But they were well-rounded and firm. Packed
tightly in her old white blouse, their tops bulging out of a ridiculously
low neckline. The neckline was so low that, had it been an inch more
lower, her nipples would be exposed. But her nipples were, actually, all
but exposed. I could see clearly where they were, could make out the
circle of their areola. I dug my nose into the deep cleavage of her
enormous boobs. "Aiyo..." she gasped. I kissed her tits. I noticed that
suddenly her nipples became hard and erect. Now they looked like they
could pierce holes in the thin material of her blouse. It was amazing how
they were jutting. She had large, strong nipples. I placed both my palms
on her heavy tits. I squeezed her tits, gently, simultaneously. She laid
still, her eyes shut. She placed a hand on my wrist. But she did not try
to push my hand away. I went on squeezing her, loving it, loving the
rubbery sensation of those two good tits. I paused after a while and let
my thumbs play with her erect nipples. Now they were so hard that they dug
into the flesh of my thumbs. I gazed at her belly and I immediately wanted
to touch it. She had a nice belly, a little large and extended, but having
a smooth skin and a deep, dark navel. Although she took extra care in
covering her whole torso with her sari, she wore her sari around her hips
very low, probably because of her big belly. Once or twice, since I met
her yesterday, I had got the opportunity of seeing her exposed navel when
her sari shifted its position due to her carelessness, or when she raised
her arms to do something. And, each time, she was at once aware that I was
looking at her belly. It was beautiful. Soft and healthy looking skin,
without any blemish. I moved a little more down to have a closer look at
her lovely navel. She laid still. Now she was covering her eyes with her
upper arm. Her breathing was unsteady. I could see that from the way her
bosom was rising and falling. I placed my hand on her waist which was very
narrow when compared to her widely set hips.