New Beginnings

When he reached out and grabbed her wrist it was a spontaneous act.

Rangappa, over 60 years old was a fit and strong man. Early morning walks ended with a Yoga session. At the end of that Yoga session he would go back to his room on the first floor of his house and lie down.

His body would be energized and in this phase he would lie down and allow his body to relax completely.

Yoga increases circulation and opens up blood flow in vessels. A strong erection was the inevitable result and Rangappa allowed the freshness and power of the early morning erection.

His wife hardly maintained herself and sex at their age was a thing of the past.

Every once in a while Rangappa tamed his erection with a vigorous session of masturbation. On many other days he just enjoyed the fact that his body felt so alive.

No one disturbed him up here in his den. His wife had her own morning routines and typically stayed out of his way.

Only occasionally, Maniamma, the ironing lady came to collect the garage key to pull out her cart, which she stored in the garage for a small monthly rent. Maniamma also and her daughter Rukku also helped around with other chores. They were not the official domestic help. But they relied heavily on the goodness of Rangappa and his wife to run their small clothes ironing business.

Maniamma did come in more than once when Rangappa's erection was at full mast but Rangappa was pretty sure it was not visible.

He could not have been more wrong. In fact, on one occasion Rangappa's dhoti had a gap through which the strong, hard penis was fully on display to Maniamma.

She smiled to herself and collected the keys, discreet as always.

Rangappa was a fun guy. There were many afternoons when Maniamma and her assorted relatives sat out an extra hot afternoon or rainy day watching TV. Jokes were shared. Maniamma often made tea or lassi for everyone. All in all, the house had a very relaxed atmosphere.

Somewhere, Rangappa's instinctive grab of the wrist was borne of that informality.

It was not as if Maniamma had not fantasized about Rangappa's erection. She was impressed by the older man's virility. Her own body, in her 40s, was well toned and always hungry with sexual desire. She took as much of it was available from her husband and the odd paramour. She thought about his erections but liked him too much to risk doing something that might upset him. Not to mention her own economic compulsions.

Rangappa had not had a woman in any form in a while. This morning's erection was full and loaded and he had not masturbated in a while. He felt full with arousal and suspected that his cumming would be copious. It was at the precise moment when he felt it would be fulfilling to have a woman engage him that he heard the woman enter his room.

As she neared the headboard where the key was kept, he reached out. Waiting for a moment, without opening his eyes, he looked for a sign of resistance, outrage or cooperation.

Maniamma allowed her hand to be held and waited for guidance.

Sure enough, Rangappa was direct in communicating his desire. He slid her hand under his dhoti and brought her palm in contact with his throbbing cock.

A sexually active woman like Maniamma needed no prodding or persuasion.

Her fist closed on the cock and she gently moved her hand in the motion of a slow, relaxed fuck. The kind of fuck she reserved for long trysts with her lover. Those afternoon trysts were intended to last hours till the last quarter hour or so when he would pound their orgasms out like an animal.

Rangappa shuddered as he felt her rough hands on his flesh. While his own masturbation needed several strokes before he juiced up, today his fluids smeared her hands within a few strokes.

Maniamma leaned over Rangappa and placed her other hand on the other side of the bed. Her breasts were now over his face though he did not see them- his eyes remained closed.

But he was aware of her hovering over him.

She varied her speed. For every three or four relaxed strokes she gave him one quicker thrust with her fist. Rangappa gasped and his hand, which had been clutching the side of the bed, grasped her arm.

Maniamma continued her fisting silently, almost as if she was carrying out an assigned task.

Rangappa felt his cum boiling and rising in his system as he felt his orgasm coming on.

It was at that point that Maniamma stopped. Rangappa opened his eyes to see if she was leaving or anything disappointing like that.

Instead, he saw the woman opening her blouse hooks and her chocolate brown breasts spilled out of their confines.

Rangappa gratefully accepted the offering. One arm went around her and with one hand he grasped her breast. Licking and nibbling at the long nipples he sucked on them hungrily.

"Ayya!" she said soothingly and softly calling Rangappa by the title 'sir' as she always did.

Rangappa acknowledged her with a grunt and shuddered as Maniamma allowed her fingers to play on his balls and underside of his cock. Her fingers fluttered from the base to the head tapping him and then providing a fist into which he thrust frantically.

Rangappa sucked on one breast and then the other. The pleasure she was giving him was divine and long forgotten. The nipples were salty and wet and the breasts were nourishing.

Maniamma's pussy juiced up nicely with the ministration. She felt a tingling sensation as Rangappa's teeth played on her teats almost bringing her to orgasm.

Their sexual encounter more resembled that of teenagers than of two mature adults.

While the comfort between them was complete there was furtiveness in their illicit gratification.

And that setting was rudely interrupted with a call from downstairs by Rangappa's wife, "Maniamma, where are you?" The woman was taking much longer than usual to fetch her keys.

"Tell her I have left," whispered Maniamma to Rangappa, increasing the urgency of her fisting. She noticed an immediate softening of his cock in the tense moment.

"She is gone," called out Rangappa.

Maniamma rose and moved her head toward Rangappa's cock. Her masturbation was now more like the frantic animal fucking of the last minutes of the tryst with her paramour.

"But I didn't see her go," came the reply from Rangappa's wife.

"What will we do if she comes up now?" asked Rangappa in panic.

Maniamma slid her wet open mouth down his shaft in response.

The flagging erection was wrong-timed. Maniamma needed Rangappa to remain hard. This was a first for them together and while there was excitement in the rendezvous there was also the furtiveness associated with the illicitness.

Maniamma loved long, wild lovemaking. Nothing was taboo for her. Oral, conventional, positions, inventiveness and daring locations were all part of her sexuality. The only thing that would convince her to quicken to a finish was if that was needed for the new variant she was trying out.

And there was a need for being quick now. Her husband, her lovers were all from her social class and around her age if not ridiculously younger. Rangappa was an upper class gent and her first time with a man seriously older than her.

There was only one way to get him back to orgasm-imminent hardness.

Rangappa gasped in pleasure as Maniamma closed her wet mouth on his drenched cock. She deliberately salivated on the pulsating flesh.

She bobbed her head up and down, expertly looking for the spot on that cockhead which was Rangappa's high-pleasure spot. In one move she dragged and pressed her lower lip against the base of the cock.

It gave Rangappa great pleasure but she knew that the spot she was looking for would not be there. She then arched her upper lip and pressed it down slightly to the left on top. Rangappa's grunt and gasps were unbroken and continuous. As she came up and the cock slid out, she adjusted herself to caress the right side of the top. Once again Rangappa's sounds were unbroken and with no variation.

Maniamma then formed a tight 'O" with her lips and ran it down taking in the cock but applying pressure on the center-top. Rangappa jerked and shuddered as his legs lifted up in a spasm. The rhythm of his moaning became ragged. Hands, which were gripping the bedside suddenly wildly, reached out for the heavy hanging breasts of the woman who caused this pleasure. The hand squeezed the breast hard, pinching and twisting whatever flesh came to it.

Maniamma had found what she wanted. Rangappa's twisting of her nipple was painful but she did not mind that. She loved it when her men lost control and hurt her. She had been bitten with deep teeth-marks. Scratched with nails digging in. A strained hip when her leg had been thrown over the shoulder to fuck her with vigor. And then the fury of passion which left no marks when her man hammered her pussy with his cock, so hard as if to take revenge on her for her seductive prowess.

She treated all those marks, scratches, aches and pains as trophies. She took pride and she savored them. They helped extend the pleasure of what had transpired beyond the moment when each trophy found its spot on her. As she ironed clothes through the day she relived the moment when a particular bite or scratch was inflicted.

The next few bobs were focused on the knot of nerves Maniamma had so expertly uncovered. Rangappa felt his fluids move from simmer to boil as he readied to cum. Maniamma's hands coaxed and cajoled the underside of his cock and his balls. "Will she keep me in her mouth when I come?" he wondered.

Maniamma moved the final phase, marveling at Rangapaa's stamina. He would be a wonderful fuck she thought. She wrapped her fingers around his cock gripping him tight. She positioned her mouth at the top so that when the cock emerged from her fist it slid into the waiting mouth.

From here, ruthless rhythm was needed to bring about his release. She paced herself well, displaying the expertise borne out of innumerable trysts. One of those, she remembered was with her squatting beneath her cart. One of her lovers had shown up at her workspot and was desperate for release. His desperation was exciting and the challenge of being inventive had motivated her. That had been a really quick cum.

Rangappa's body was in convulsions. These sensations when he was masturbating would have caused him to slow down and extend pleasure. But Maniamma's rhythmic beat was merciless in its pursuit of his pleasure.

He had her breast in his palm and his nipples between fingers that milked her in rhythm with her milking action on his cock. Saliva poured on his cock and reduced the pleasurable friction. Maniamma compensated for this by a series of rapid bobs of her head, which was a lot more rapid than the rhythm set by her fist.

Rangappa was now ready to release.

"Maniamma!" he sighed as he stretched his legs out. His toes pointed downward and nerves and muscles went taut as his entire being was aligned to the release to come.

Maniamma had correctly guessed that Rangappa's wife would not come upstairs. But she failed to anticipate that her daughter would come looking for when the keys did not arrive.

Her daughter Rukku came to the door just when Rangappa gave a loud bellow as his body gave Maniamma what she was looking with such fervor.

Rukku retreated a little to be able to watch without being spotted. She saw her mother continue fisting and mouthing with unvarying rhythm.

Rangappa half sat up as his semen spurted. "Oh, Maniamma!" he gasped. He thrashed violently his hands roaming her back. Feverishly, he rubbed her flesh, her breasts and her nipples and her back.

At the first spurt, Maniamma had his cock well inside her mouth and it filled her with the copious release. She allowed the thick semen to mix and flow out with her saliva.

Rukku watched in fascination the cock in its glory and the mess of fluids her mother was managing with her hands now. The 21 year old had nowhere near the same experience as her mother. In fact, she was almost a prude in such matters as a reaction to her mother's sluttish permissiveness.

Nevertheless, she was a young woman with a body alive with all the desires and passions a 21 year old knew was there to be had. She had never been with a man in any way and watched with fascination the cock and its jerking spasms, revising her opinion of Rangappa as an old man who had his best years behind him.

For the next spurt and pulse, Maniamma withdrew her head and fisted down completely, pulling back the skin as much as it would go without hurting Rangappa. The angry red sheath was seen by both Rukku and Maniamma with equal fascination. The head bulged and the next spurt of thick semen rose in the air towards Maniamma's face and fell back after nearly kissing her lower lip.

Reflexively, she pulled back and continued fisting rapidly.

Gobs and gobs of cum spewed as Rangappa helplessly released all of his fluids into Maniamma's waiting hands.

Rukku felt her body hot and flushing as she instinctively felt the desire to receive those jets of cum inside her. She had no clue that a woman could use her hands and mouth to substitute the pussy for which the cock was intended. In that one instant she felt that she too should explore her own sexuality as her mother seemed to be doing.

Maniamma turned her head away from the cock which was now showing signs of flagging and her eyes looked at Rangappa who was looking down at her.

Mischievously, Maniamma ran her tongue over her lips cleaning the mess around her lips, which combined her saliva with his semen. Using the end of her garment she wiped her tongue and mouth and looked at the smear in her cloth and then up at Rangappa.

Rangappa was well and truly spent. He sagged back, allowing his body to relax. Maniamma reached for her breasts her eyes locked on his. Her fingers ran over the reddish marks Rangappa had made in his madness.

He started to apologize; but then stopped when he realized that Maniamma was giving him a show of who she was. With great deliberation she hefted the large mound of flesh into the panel of her blouse, eyes fixed on him. Then the other bulging breast. And she reattached each hook one by one.

It was sensuous as it might have been had she been unhooking her blouse. When she was done, the damp sweat patches and the stiff, hard nipples still showed Rangappa the best of her assets.

His cock lay on its side, still with volume if not hard. Cum dribbled from it. Maniamma wiped her hands on his dhoti and loosely covered the manhood, leaving it to the man to handle himself.

Rukku found herself regretting that she could not see her mother's sumptuous breasts. As the older woman turned to leave the room, Rukku fled down the stairs.

She did not want to be discovered. Maniamma was intensely aroused by this encounter. She had just been pragmatic enough to postpone her pleasure. She had a portfolio of lovers, each reserved to providing specific pleasures and indulgences. She needed to be fucked like an animal and she had a young one targeted.

Rangappa was drained. He had no time to react, respond or prevent anything. Not that he would have liked to. Deep slumber came quickly.

When he awoke, it was like any other morning in his house.


Rukku ran down the stairs, dizzy with the arousal of what she had just seen. She had a twinge of regret as well over having missed the full view of her mother Maniamma's sumptuous breasts.

What she had no dearth of was her first view of a cock. Rangappa, old as he was, was no less endowed for that and was virile as ever, as evidenced by the hardness she had seen. It seemed wondrous and large leaving Rukku wondering, "Is that the size of thing my mother takes in with all her various lovers? How does she open up to accommodate such pillars of flesh? Will I be able?"

The 21-year old girl was the diametric opposite of her mother. If the mother was voracious in her appetite for sex, the daughter deliberately held herself back. Not that she hadn't inherited her mother's sexuality; she was --deep inside -- just like her mom.

It was just that all her mother's lovers were licentious and had more than once tried to seduce her. Some of her mother's younger lovers were clearly in her age group and felt entitled to pitch for her.

Years of cultivating a defense mechanism had rendered her immune to these advances and predators. And yet bubbling beneath the surface was Rukku, an exact sexual replica of her mother, Maniamma the temptress and seductress.

This was the first time Rukku had such a ringside view of a sexual encounter between two adults. There had been other opportunities to indulge the voyeur in her, had she wanted to, given her mother's proclivity for sex.

Sometimes she looked in a very general sort of way to understand what was happening. She noted sexual positions, unusual locations and the inherent dangers in the situations. But when it came to the more intimate details she always looked away or wandered off. Yet, the sights and sounds were not lost on her.

This time, what she saw was something unexpected. The naïve young woman knew next to nothing of sexual encounters.

She did not know that a woman could take a man in her mouth. She could not imagine that a man would experience the kind of pleasure their benevolent landlord had felt, when his legs went taut. Did not sex involve penetration?

And while she had masturbated often enough to know that a person could pleasure his or herself, she had not considered that a man would enjoy a woman masturbating and mouthing him in preference to an outright fuck.

In giggling conversations with others of her age group she had learnt of how semen rushed into the woman to impregnate her. For the first time that morning she saw that white, thick substance spewing out of a man and gushing in viscous waves over her mother's clenched fist. The way her mother's mouth was hanging open, dripping saliva as she pleasured Rangappa, the daughter feared her mother was going to be hit in the face, or worse, have to swallow the substance.

But her mother adroitly avoided that. In fact, she noted the expertise with which the woman milked the cock in her hand. "Is that the same effect a pussy has on a cock?" she wondered.

She clenched her pussy to see how tight it would go, as she settled on the heap of canvasses under the staircase near the borewell pump. This was her favorite spot, where undetected she dreamed of lovers and sex when aroused. This was where she pleasured herself. And she was in serious need of pleasure right now.

One hand grasped her own breast, the way she had seen Rangappa clench her mother's breast. It was a bit hard to believe: the jovial and cordial Rangappa was their benevolent landlord who allowed them use of various facilities around his house. Not on one occasion had Rukku seen him say or do one thing out of place. She had long admired the man for his 'clean' behavior.

Now, a doubt cropped up. Was there a secret dalliance between her mother and the landlord, which was the real reason behind his benevolence?

Rukku had no way of knowing that the encounter she had just witnessed was the first ever.

In fact, from what she had seen that morning the pleasure seeking ways of Rangappa were so obvious and Rukku could not be blamed for jumping to conclusions.

As she imagined her own hand and mouth on Rangappa, as she imagined her own pussy stretching to take in the thick cock, her other hand wandered down. She sucked her stomach in so the petticoat cord had the slack to take her hand. Her middle finger slid past the mat of pubic hair and she found her passage slick with flow, ready to welcome her.

She slid her finger in to as far as it would go. It was not far enough. She put three fingers together, raised her hips and spread her legs out. She slid them in, again as far as they would go. Then she found her thumb against her clit. She rotated her wrist, creating traction between the ball of the thumb and the knob of flesh.

Pleasure frissoned through her lissome body. Through the cloth of her blouse, she pinched at herself harder, desperate to somehow mimic the feeling of a man's hand. It had to be harder, rougher -- that would be the only thing she could consider as a man's effect on her! Anything else -- her own hands -- were too soft to deliver her the pleasure she so craved right now.

She had no exposure or experience to texture, skin, temperature and the passion driving a man that touched a woman.

As her fingers slid in and out with increasing ease, it became clear that she was juicing up more than she ever had in the past. Her need soared as fingers became less effective. She needed a man, she thought in desperation, noting that there was no one really eligible. She thrust her hips too, as her fingers plunged, desperate to feel more pleasure. May be any man would do, never mind eligibility.

She thought of the eligible young men in their circle. The strongest of them had been taken by her mother. She had once seen them on an empty plot of land. A large cloth had been tied to trees to form a tent like they did in the villages. Beneath lay her Maniamma, legs spread wide apart. The strong young man, his muscles rippling, his buttocks taut, was busy pounding into her mother. She had taken note of the woman's hand clutching those strong buttocks and pulling him in, again and again.

She needed some pounding like that! While on other days she refused to entertain thoughts of fucking men her mother had fucked, today if he appeared before her right now, she would more than willing take him. Here and now!

In desperation she looked around, as though if she spotted a man she would have him, then and there. Her eyes fell on the creeper running up the wall and she saw the small cucumbers growing on the vine of the plant. It reminded her of the landlord Rangappa's cock.

She stretched out to reach but the nearest cucumber was just a wee bit too far away. Finally, she heaved herself up from her reclining position and lunged for the phallus shaped vegetable. She got her target.

Now, bunching up the folds of her petticoat, she nosed her pussy open with the knob of one end of the cucumber. She allowed the cucumber to be coated with her juices as she rotated the knob around the opening of her pussy. She then used this slickness to push the cucumber in a bit deeper. Now she was able to rotate it a lot less. She wiggled her hips and gasped as her pussy gave and absorbed the trunk of the cucumber.

She remembered hearing a similar gasp from her mother one night, when in a daring act, Maniamma had mounted her husband, even while her daughter lay asleep a hand's length away.

She had not been asleep. She had heard the man whispering something to Maniamma. Then she had seen the silhouette of her mother rising. She noticed her mother resting one knee on the floor while the other was akimbo. As the silhouette shape fell, she was treated to the sound of the gasp, as her husband's cock dutifully filled her space.

That fullness is what Rukku was hungry for. For now, the cucumber would have to serve her. Remembering a cautionary tale, which had sounded hilarious at the time, Rukku eased the cucumber back out a bit and instantly felt the ache of vacuum. She shoved it right back, this time with careless vigor.

"Ah!" she exulted as the stretching gave her the first full sense of pleasure she had been seeking. There was hope for her yet! Her hips started fucking the cucumber and her hand acquired a rhythm in which the supple, firm cylinder slid in and out. There was a gentle curve at which the cucumber would go no further and Rukku did not dare plunge it further than that.

She noted that the rhythm of her hand was quite similar to the rhythm of her mother's hand on Rangappa Ayya (respectful title for an elder).

She shuddered a little spasm as she smiled to herself: same rhythm for cock as for cunt. She felt a yawning hunger inside her and the fucking became more desperate.

Leaving her breast clothed in its blouse, she slid her hand to other breast, this time under the blouse. She caught her nipple in a brutal grip between thumb and forefinger and twisted and rotated her long brown teats in rhythm with the fucking.

A man, she needed a man! She wanted to feel the weight of a man. She wanted this cucumber to be a cock, and for it to throb from within.

As her pussy melted into orgasm and gushed, she desperately wished for a similar warm gush to flood into her. She imagined the jets of cum thrown up by Rangappa's cock and wanted to feel such jets in her.

She wept in pleasure and frustration as she ceaselessly slid the cucumber back and forth. What had proved sufficient at the beginning proved now to be wet and slick to the point that sensations were fewer than before.

She pulled at one nipple, then the other. "Yes!" she screamed inwardly. "I want this pleasure! More! And from someone else!" she sobbed.

As the waves of the rough edges of her pleasure receded, so did the desperation. What replaced it was a resolve that she would now make sure she got the real thing.

She just had to find a man that would qualify.

It took Maniamma a bit longer to coax her bountiful breasts back into the confines of her blouse. Like many working class women from the lower income groups, she had no use for a bra. By the time she had stuffed them in and hooked up the blouse her daughter Rukku who had seen the entire encounter left without being noticed by the mother.

Maniamma took one glance more at the gently snoring Rangappa as he lay exhausted by the exhilarating orgasm. His garments were in complete disarray but his position was somewhat better because Maniamma had thrown the cloth of his sarong-like lower garment (dhoti) over him.

She noticed the large area that his sticky, messy semen covered in the cloth and took note that the man, despite his age seemed to be totally virile. Next time she did not plan to let this go waste; it would have to be inside her. She knew how to take a man and for her the epitome of pleasure was in his spending helplessly into her, in the throes of a death-like orgasm.

Maniamma was shamelessly engrossed in her own pleasure over the pleasure of any of her men. It just so happened that her own pleasure involved the cumming of her man. This morning, perhaps, was the first time when the entire encounter was purely focused on the man. It was spontaneous. It was a man that Maniamma admired and respected. And she had served him in many different ways. To her, the act of intense gratification too, was serving him.

Rangappa was one of the few men she had met in her life who, as her landlord, was downright nice and helpful and had never been exploitative. If sex had been part of the deal, she would not have minded it one bit, given how much she enjoyed sex and pleasure. But Rangappa was careful to a fault, not even touching her by accident while going about the daily give and take.

And now this. Now that the pleasure of her master was done and over with, her urgent and immediate craving was for her own pleasure. Apart from her breasts, which Rangappa Ayya had held, touched, kneaded and ravaged with his hungry hands, she had nothing from the encounter. As she walked down the stairs she felt the juice in her pussy squelching with her movements as hips rotated.

The vacantness between her legs was throbbing and her mind whirred as she considered which of her current crop of lovers would be available at this time. Her first preference was for Devan the most illicit of all her relationships. Devan was her husband's nephew -- by extension her own nephew.

Back Then...

Devan became her lover not because she made the first move. When the 20-year lad came from the village to make a living working with his uncle, he had been totally taken by the obvious sexuality of his aunt. He first saw her go away furtively with one of her lovers and concluded his aunt was licentious. His perception was confirmed when he saw her riding someone else with her typical ruthlessness. It was one of those moments when she was busy extracting her own orgasm from the hapless man below.

Devan slowly let the woman know his intentions. At work he leaned over her. He grazed her luscious breasts with his arm. And at least once let his hand drop on her sumptuous ass.

She ignored it at first, but then the signals became unmistakable. When she saw him out of the corner of eye ogling her and tugging at his erection beneath his lungi (sarong) she knew for sure. It was typical of Maniamma to start assessing Devan instead of being prudent.

Being strong, muscular and young, he qualified. The clincher was the probability that he was a virgin. She had no way of knowing for sure and that was something new in her book. All her men were either married or as licentious as her. The surge in her breasts and the tingling at her nipples at the thought of his virginity told her she had a new target.

The actual encounter happened by both the young man and the older woman allowing the situation to come together, each acting independently.

Maniamma stored the coal she needed for her clothes iron in the rooftop room of Rangappa's house. It was a crammed shed, full of all sorts of assorted things. Just inside the door of that shed lay a full sack of coal. When this coal was depleted she usually sent her husband to replenish it and haul up the heavy sack.

This time she asked Devan to handle that. When her husband said he would do it as was usual, she insisted that the newcomer earn his keep by doing more.

"Go up and keep this sack in that shed," she said to her nephew.

"But where? How?" asked Devan.

"Go up and wait there for me," she said, her eye meeting his eye. The eyes conveyed a lot more than what the words meant.

And there, in the shadow of the water tank, she had taught him what it was to be with a woman. Her surmise that he would be a virgin proved correct. She so enjoyed the tutoring. Holding his hardness and guiding it to her pussy she had asked him to push. And then, holding his hips she pushed him up and away. Then she switched her hands to his buttocks and pulled him in.

That is all she needed to teach him. His instincts took over. She gave him a free run of her as he fucked her mindlessly, seeking his own pleasure and trying to feel every part of a woman he had fantasized about throughout his growing up years.

There was a charm to his wild plunging and thrusting. He came, quickly and torrentially. But his erection was undiminished, as she had anticipated. It was this second fuck that she really wanted. The cock, she knew would not cum as easily as it had the first time.

She pushed him off. Devan lay on his back, his cock waving in the air. His first experience with a woman was not as great as he thought it would be, though he enjoyed the release into her much more than he had ever enjoyed masturbating.

Looking at the disheveled form of his aunt, he realized that he had wanted to fuck her, yes; but also to feel those breasts, caress her ass, and to feel her. And he had also wanted her to do things to him he had only seen on those pirated x-rated videos.

It had been too quick and too random.

His wildest dreams had then been realized when his aunt gently undid the hooks of her blouse and allowed her tits to spill out. Devan could not have known that Maniamma was aching for her breasts to be treated well. Devan could not have known that his aunt's cunt had barely begun to feel satiated and that much of her sexual needs lay before them.

And she continued to teach him. As only an expert lover would know she left his cock to rejuvenate and throb, ignoring the waving and bobbing shaft as her hands guided his hands to her breasts.

She taught him to squeeze them just how she liked it. She allowed him to play with them. But she also taught him to slap the sides of breasts gently. And hold her nipples like toggle switches and rotate them. And when his throat bobbed as he swallowed, she leaned forward to slap her breasts on his face, eventually feeding him her teats.

The slow stages in which she got him used to her breasts and her control of his hands had shown him her preferences. He was gentle in the nibbling and suckling. But he was harsh and quick in sucking them in and out of his lips.

Maniamma shivered. The young man was a great student. The way he sucked pleasure out of her breasts sent tingles to her pussy. Those were the connections she loved to experience. Holding her young lover's head to her breasts she ran her other hand slowly down his taut body, caressing him gently till she reached his groin.

Gently she passed the cock by and reached for his sac, gently lifting and caressing him there. And then her forefinger went beyond to the stretch between his legs and he shuddered.

She ran her fingers lightly up, tapping his sac, his pillar from base upward, slowly -- tapping as she went. For each tap the spongy cock bounced to her touch. She could feel the buzz in his nerves. He was ready.

Laying his head back on the floor, she swiveled one leg over the prone man. She leaned forward, her breasts back in his face. Bunching up her sari she descended on his cock. Cleverly, she let the triangle of her pubis catch and caress the cock. As she moved down his body the cock moved from pointing up toward his own belly down, snagged in her triangle. Maniamma caught the cockhead in her gaping open pussy and tried align the hot, waiting flesh so that if she pushed he would penetrate.

But the cock escaped as Maniamma moved her hips and sprang back to its taut, upward pointing position. Devan gasped in disappointment and Maniamma looked down at his face loaded with desire, her own face a mirror of his desire, her mouth agape. Her lower lip, hanging and wet was so exciting to him that he wanted to grab her and devour her. But it was not he who was in control this time.

She looked down between their bodies and saw the object of her immediate desire. His cockhead, red and bulbous, wet and smeared with the viscous fluids of his arousal waited for her.

Burning as she was desire, Maniamma knew better than to hurry. There was time enough to feast. But Devan thrust his hips upward in ardor.

She pressed him down and again moved her hips down snagging his cock in the same way. When the head had again found her pussy lips -- also agape- she reached between and held his cock delicately between forefinger and thumb. Holding it in alignment, she thrust downward, and was rewarded with the fulfilling sensation of a tight fit.

The nephew was well endowed indeed! Hoisting herself up, she straightened her torso. Her hands now off the floor, she grabbed his hands and brought them to her breasts. She squeezed her own breasts by manipulating his hands to squeeze her.

His cock was deep, up in her. Devan could not bear it but the weight of the woman on him prevented him from moving up. He contracted his sphincter and was rewarded with a dribble. Maniamma gasped in pleasure as it moved within her womb.

"Mmmmm!" she marveled. "Do that again!" she coaxed him.

Devan smiled. "Yes, perimma!" he replied, dutiful as ever, addressing her as aunt.

He released and contracted again. Again his cock jumped in its new lair. Maniamma felt her nephew's cock caress in her in unusual places in unusual ways again. Slowly she raised herself, allowing her weight down on Devan.

Reflexively, Devan straightened his arms, holding up his aunt above him b gripping her breasts hard. The slow measured pace by which she was schooling him in pleasure added intensity.

Her nephew was a good learner and an excellent lover! He listened to her and was willing to serve and pleasure her down to the level of detail she wanted. The grip of those hands on her breast felt great and moved her hips in small circles.

"Perimma!" gasped Devan.

"What?" she asked, looking down at him radiantly.

"You... I.... no....!" he stammered.

"What?" she asked endearingly, changing the direction in which she rotated her hips.

"I might cum!" he wailed.

"So?" she asked impishly, postponing her pleasure as she enjoyed the newly deflowered man's predicament.

"I don't want to!" he said.

"Why? Why don't you want to?" she asked, knowing perfectly well what his answer would be. Suddenly she moved upward allowing him to slide outwards and then slowly, rotating and descending on him, she corkscrewed his cock back into her depths.

"This will end!" he implored.

"And you don't want it to?" she asked again, repeating the unsheathing of his cock and the corkscrew down.

Devan shuddered. His cumming was imminent. He felt desperate. His aunt had only just taken him in. This orgasm threatened to be weak and flowing rather than pounding and powerful, as he wanted.

Maniamma undid her hair and it cascaded down and the woman laughed at him lovingly.

Sliding off him completely she shimmied down his body till her face was at his cock. Devan's cock was jerking involuntarily, threatening to explode. She clamped down on the head with three fingers on top and thumb below and held it there, motionless.

Devan groaned as the orgasm receded. Somehow, he wanted both -- to cum as well as to prolong the session.

Maniamma looked up as the young man looked down.

"Now what is your problem?" she teased him, enjoying the complete control. Here was a toy-boy she could use to her heart's content from today on.

He shook his head wordlessly. He was wondering if his aunt intended to open her mouth and take his cock in and that thought was enough to have him orgasming again. But he didn't think she would. He had gotten far enough with this woman but for his aunt to mouth him was a tall ask.

She didn't take him in her mouth. But not for the reasons he thought. She knew that he would cum almost instantly and she had a cunt bubbling with desire that needed satisfaction. Moreover, if the coals did not reach the ironing cart soon enough, her husband might just show up.

She shimmied up and again guided his hands to her breast. Taking him in instantly she fucked him in a rhythm designed for her own pleasure.

Devan was now introduced to one dimension of his aunt's pleasuring that all her other lovers already knew about her. The fucking was incessant and rhythmic. It ignored him and his pleasure. There was no focus on his position and his cock.

She manipulated the contact and the thrusting in a way that her own pleasure soared.

"Oh yes!" she hissed. She added her own hands to his on her breasts, and as she continued the fucking, she twisted and pinched her nipples. The good student immediately took over the ministration of her teats from the teacher.

"Oh yes! Yes! Yes!" moaned Maniamma. With a huge exhalation she called out to him, "Raja!" It was a long drawl of an endearment women often called male kids in the house.

His aunt had often called him 'Raja' before, but never in the throes of pleasure.

"You, Raja, you! You are what this woman needs!" she babbled.

Devan was thrilled and his cock swelled such that Maniamma could feel the surge. His aunt was in love with him!

She was not. She was a very articulate lover who crooned, pampered and talked to her lovers. It gave her and them pleasure. She showered her lovers with attention and words, which made them feel like studs.

That made them behave like studs with her. And she needed and enjoyed that.

Her head lost control as she thrashed about in orgasm. Devan was being too careful with her breasts so she had her own fingers join him in treating her breasts. She came copiously, flooding the cock.

She slumped forward on him, holding her hips just high enough for him to hump upward.

Devan took to the new task with a gusto. He thrust upward in rapid jabs. The short stabs did not penetrate Maniamma deeply any more. She like that too -- there was pleasure to be had from the first one-third of her pussy as well.

She whispered into his ears, "Fuck your perimma well, you stud!"

Devan thrust upward.

"Just like that," she encouraged him. "Go, go, go, Raja!" she implored him as she felt one more orgasm welling up.

Devan thrust up and held there as his cock exploded.

"Oh yes!" she spoke into his ear. "Thrust, thrust!" she directed.

Devan shook and moved erratically as he kept thrusting to the best of his ability.

The warmth flooded into Maniamma's womb.

IT felt fantastic to Devan. His first orgasm was a sticky, tight mess as he had got stuck in her. This one was warm and bubbly. His aunt's whispers added to the pleasure.

He gave all of himself and filled her. It surged into Maniamma and mixed with her own released flowed back over their joined cock and cunt.

The flooding and the squelching slowed down the sensations as the orgasms receded and Maniamma slumped down, taking his cock in fully. It was still spewing and she enjoyed every spasm, still quaking.

The feverishness in her nipples receded and her breasts felt good crushed on his chest. His cock, unwilling to lose its hardness continued to release into her in smaller and smaller dribbles.

Her cunt still pulsated in the thrall of her orgasm. That told her that she herself was not quite done. From here, she would love to have him go down on her and take her one more level.

But today was not the day for that. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked down at him.

"Happy? Got what you wanted?" she asked, wiggling her hips.

He gasped, the cock extra sensitive to movements now.

"I never..." he started.

"Don't!" she stopped him. "I noticed every single time you found a way to touch me okay!"

She slapped him on his hip. Slowly raising herself off him, she looked down and saw his reddened slick cock erect as ever.

She shook her head, marveling at how the human body responded to its first encounter.

"It will be like that for a day or two," she told him, kneeling between his legs as she tethered the hooks of her blouse to the impossible task of holding her flesh.

"Perimma is always there to take of you, isn't it?" she said. Leaning forward she fleeting kissed the cockhead.

Devan jumped in reflex.

"Get some of the coal down for today's work," she instructed him leaving there a heap of conquered flesh.

And she continued instructing him ever since, teaching him everything she knew and writing new chapters in her very own book of pleasure and sex.

And Now Today...

To that student she now turned in her moment of intense need. She needed to be fucked. And now.

She found him two streets away, getting his own ironing cart ready for the day. It was two years since he got here and as was her usual planning, she extended the franchise of her village by setting up more and more of them in small businesses around town.

In those two years, whenever she wanted a strong, powerful but submissive lover willing to be instructed it was Devan. There were others who dueled with her as the lovemaking progressed. They tried to subdue her with their own stamina and appetite for her. And she in turn reveled in the dueling as she pleasured them right back. It always ended with her satiated and the cocks limp and flaccid.

Devan was putting up the canvases that formed covers on all sides of the cart. As Maniamma approached his cart, Devan was surprised. She would not come looking for him unless she wanted him. If she had work for him, she would have called him on the mobile.

But this was too early in the morning. Maniamma usually got hungry for him in the afternoons and quite often in the middle of the night, after her husband had drunk himself silly.

"Fuck me now," instructed Maniamma.

"Where? How?" asked Devan, bewildered by the suddenness. Maniamma usually flirted a lot and her foreplay was quite aggressive before she asked him to mount her; or simply mounted him.

Today there were no preliminaries.

The one side of the cart, which she left open, was to the wall of an apartment complex. Covered on three sides by the cart and protected by the wall on the fourth side, Maniamma was ready to be taken.

"Here," she said simply, leaning over the cart, laying her cheek on the layers of cloth laid down to be the ironing surface. Reaching behind she pulled him to her till his cock brushed her ass through their clothing.

The student-nephew got the message. She wanted to be taken doggy style. He glanced up and down the street and yes; his aunt's plan did seem well laid out. They did not seem particularly visible as usually the cart was placed under trees and leafy vegetation to protect from the peak sun levels of the day.

With one hand he released his lungi (sarong) and with the other he pulled up the woman's sari. He reached under her to find her pussy and prepare her with some preliminaries. Instead, he was shocked to find that his target was soppy wet.

His cock rose rapidly to its full eminence and he hunched over the prone woman, attempting to fuck her. His hips moved and his cock prodded her flesh uselessly. He could not find her pussy with his cock. He reached between them and holding himself, nosed her around, pushing each time to see whether he was able to gain entry.

"You are too low. Your hips need to be higher," he grunted.

Maniamma moved the large stones used to block the wheels of the cart closer to the middle of the cart. She then stood on top of the two stones, elevating herself by about half a foot. She then leaned forward onto the cart again. Now her hips were in the air.

Devan again guided his cock, prodding. This time Maniamma joined in the quest, and with two fingers held his cock in the correct trajectory. AS the cock entered her, Maniamma was ecstatic. This angle was completely unique and no amount of energy or change in position could create this perfect angle in which the cock caressed the roof of her pussy all the way in.

She shuddered as he rammed in. While she was wet, he was dry -- from the moment he sighted her hurrying to him to this moment when he was penetrating her was less than minute. As he plunged in his skin pulled back and cock head swelled up and reared its head to the full just as he reached the mouth of her womb.

"Yes, Raja!" sighed Maniamma, loving the feeling of fullness. He was designed for her, made to order. She put her palm on her belly just over the area where he was embedded. She always felt like she could hold his erection in her fist from there, through her belly.

"Perimma!" stammered Devan as her pussy contracted on his cock.

He pulled out and rammed back, the whole cart shuddering with the force of this thrust. Maniamma, ever the pragmatist, gripped both sides of the top to steady the cart for she did not want to waste money on having it fixed later. Besides, she needed to present Devan with a steady target. If he pounded, she needed to be stationary for him to plunge in to the full depth.

He did. He thrust, he plunged and he filled her depth.

"Tell me, Raja!" she called out to her dear nephew.

"Perimma!" he repeated.

"Go ahead! Tell me, da!" she implored.

"Perimma!" he wept, as he felt her expertly contract on his plunging member.

"Give! Give! Give!" she coaxed him, realizing that Devan was calling out to his aunt in intense pleasure rather than to say anything.

Holding her hips, he fucked in and pulled out, hard and fast. He wanted her breasts but he needed to hold her. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, concentrating on the exact friction point of cock and cunt.

His nails dug into her sides as his semen boiled up into his orgasm. Maniamma reached back as she felt her own climax coming on. Clutching his ass, she pulled him as close as she could.

This restricted the depth of his fucking to short, sharp jabs. Devan increased his speed of fucking, reaming in and out of Maniamma's pussy.

She missed the full, long fucks filling her womb. But she now luxuriated in the pleasure of the rapid movement of his cock head on the top of her cunt and a particularly sensitive pleasure spot just beyond.

She felt like an animal today and would have loved to fuck him for long hours -- much longer than ever. Him on top. Her on top. Sixty-nine. And long languorous oral sex.

But not today, not just now. On a street at a time of day when activity would pick up any time.

They had to finish.

And finish he did- bellowing loudly as he spurted into her. He always came in copious gallons when fucking her. She always found him more vigorous than most and filling her more than others. Her other lovers had other women and seemed to regularly find release.

Her Devan released only into her. And his large surges as he filled her seemed to be the accumulated passion between their encounters.

He slumped on her, jerking and spasming as he continued to come. And she held him tight and to her, not wanting to let him out even by mistake. Now that his hands did not need to be on her hips, Devan reached under his aunt and found her breasts. Through her blouse he clutched at her, and felt out her nipples from within the thin fabric.

He caressed and teased them as he continued to release in ever decreasing dribbles. In that position he did not have to lose his full erection to slip out; just a reduction from the heights of passion was enough. His cock would no longer fit in its preferred spot.

Maniamma recognized the end of this session. She could have gone on but that would have meant another position and she could easily go for hours.

Instead she slapped her faithful students buttock, indicating to him to move. She let her sari slip to cover her. As she stood upright, she stepped off the stone blocks on which she had stood.

As she stepped on the ground, fluids seeped out of her and ran down her legs. She turned around to face her young lover. His cock was still semi-erect. She grasped it and gave it a few fist fucks to provide the completeness of pleasure Devan so deserved. He released every last drop into her fist.

And then she moved on from what was quite an unusual day beginning for her.