"That was beautiful," said Baba to his daughter-in-law. She had given him a hand-job after he had spotted her fucking her husband. The masturbation / blowjob session was an outcome of her sense of sympathy. But the discovery of the well -endowed father-in-law caught her throat and she wondered how he might feel inside her if they fucked. He did not let her wonder for long.
He had taken her doggy style while she was washing clothes in the washer. She had barely resisted. Knowing fully well that she might lose control and want him deep in her womb and flooding her, she started by cautioning him to only fuck enough to take the edge off. Then the warning changed to telling him not to spill inside her. And finally she luxuriated in the pounding and the flooding.
Somehow she did not want to take it further. Not just because it was illicit. The man was old enough to be her father and she indeed had called him that for all her married life. And now to fuck him ...
She did not want to take it further at this time because her unmarried son and married daughter with her two kids were visiting. There was still a fresh memory of the son having needed some attention a few years back when she had masturbated him to relieve him of some post-injury stress. If the son saw her in a compromising position with her father-in-law god knows what that might unleash.
Her wanting to stop was not because of any dislike she had for what had happened. In fact, here lay the crux of the matter. She had loved it so much that she was scared of her own tendency to get addicted. She knew how she drank once her husband Deepu had introduced her to alcohol. It was a phase when he wanted his wife to be "with it".
And it was not just alcohol. When she came to Calcutta after finishing her graduation from Ramananda College in Bankura district she was the very picture of innocence. Deepu had asked his elder sister to make her more fashionable for his taste and in came the sleeveless blouse with its aggressive cuts. She didn't used to shave her armpits and somehow it seemed her man liked that, too.
And then to make her lose inhibitions came the alcohol. She playfully picked up his cigarette as well. On that first day of all this, Deepu had shown the advantages of a low cut blouse on his buxom Bengali wife. He had kissed the slopes and thrilled her. Under the influence of alcohol she also had her first taste of cock and cum.
And so she knew exactly how addicted she could become. It had taken kids and the loss of privacy for her to overcome some of the wilder sex in a post-alcohol haze.
So it was easy to imagine her getting addicted to Baba's girth, the vitality and the rich copious cumming that she so loved. And that was the real, true reason for her hesitancy. Excess and the risk of discovery went hand in hand.
"Wasn't it?" pressed on her father-in-law, leaning back on the kitchen tabletop waiting for her to respond to him.
She pulled her pallo covering her blouse. She could feel his eyes staring at her heavy slopes. All these fancy cut blouses, each showing more cleavage than the previous one simply fed the old man's lust. The sides bulging and nipples protruding were all with Deepu's encouragement. As he leaned close, she felt the father-in-law was trying to benefit from the son's racy styling for her.
"Hm?" he asked, leaning closer to her and looking down her front. As she leaned and polished the top her heavy breasts jiggled. He knew what he wanted from her next. Would she give?
"Ha," she replied shortly and turned away from him facing the other side. This blouse was too aggressive, he was too suggestive and she was too weak-kneed. It was now after dinner and the household was slowly retiring. Deepu always wanted her in bed next to him, whether sex was possible or not. And like his father had come down the other day only to see her fucking him, he too was likely to come down if she did not show up next to him.
Sleeping, for Deepu, meant at the least holding her and slipping his hand under her clothes to caress either breasts or pussy. If that provoked anything in her before sleep took him over then some fucking might result. There were other days when a fuck-fest was fully planned. Those were wild nights. But with the house so full in the holiday season that was not about to happen.
If she thought turning her back to him was going to prevent her father-in-law from becoming more sexual with her, she had underestimated her father-in-law's ardor and indeed her own ass's sexiness. Baba eyed her and imagined how with her bent exactly in similar fashion he had mounted her a short while ago.
Far from being satiated or exhausted the strong old man was like a sexual monster unleashed. His cock lurched on sighting that ass and he imagined the wet channel between her legs. It had grabbed at him and milked him - in his version of events. The throbbing ache in his now-full cock caused him to reach into his dhoti and press his cock downward, relieving the buzz a bit.
It was at that moment that Paru decided to turn around and she saw his hand under his dhoti.
"What is this?" she blurted out.
Baba grinned lasciviously, "What do you think?"
She came close to him. This was unbelievable. The old man had been masturbating for the previous day or two. Today, she had tongued and fisted him to one round of cumming. He had mounted her in a second round of fucking and even then he had filled her with his semen till it ran down her legs. And here he was sporting an erection again.
A slickness in her cunt told her that fate had not been kind with the genes transfer from father to son. The son had fucked her a maximum of twice in any given 24-hour cycle. Here, the father at his advanced age was raring to go for the third time, masturbation aside. How must he have been when younger? Poor chap. Widow hood must have been cruel but also seemed to her as a waste of good, healthy vitality.
Instinctively and before her mind could stop her, her hand had reached under the dhoti. She expected just an average erection - not the whole job. But he was as loaded as she had ever encountered him. She gasped. "How could this be?" she wondered in fascination. His son's cock was never as hard and full for second fucks. Baba was promised to ravage her raw again.
While her hands were seeking out his cock his hand went under her saree pallo to seek out her blouse.
"I didn't get any of this from you so far," he murmured, fingers finding her nipples quite easily. They rose and stiffened, straining against the fabric of bra and blouse to make themselves felt. He pulled on them, like a milkman milking teats of a cow.
"Baba," whispered Paru hoarsely. "Not here, not now!"
He massaged the flesh surrounding her full nipples as if to encourage the flow of milk. Shameless and bold in his desire, he leaned forward and nuzzled her breasts. He knew his daughter-in-law just needed to be made to melt and she would take him harder than he could give her. That, and the regret at having missed her breasts caused him to be bold.
Paru gasped. She caught his hand. Her eyes were on the staircase, paradoxically looking at the same top stair where Baba had come down the other day and spotted her with his son. Eyes on the stairs, she merely held on to his hand as he squeezed and massaged her breast. At least once she guided him closer to her nipple and then she gripped him hard stopping him when she thought someone was coming.
And then let go when it turned out to be false alarm. She sighed contentedly. A man was not just his cock; he was also about how he wielded his sexuality and Baba was proving to be an expert. The father should have taught his son, she found herself musing. But the genes had not passed on the bludgeoning dimensions of his cock.
Eyes still on the stairwell, one hand on his hand for control, Paru let her other hand drop back on to his cock. Gently she held him in a soft grip through the cloth. She did not press too hard. That would have made him release some precum and lessened his volume.
She was not sure why she wanted to preserve his heft. She did not even know whether she would get an opportunity to fuck him, whether for his sake or her own needs. But she made sure that she did not squeeze him too hard. It was a stimulating caress rather than a draining one.
He brought his lips to her ears and said, "Find a way." His hands crept in between the folds of her saree and through all the layers he could feel the humid heat of her hungry cunt.
"Find a way to do what?" she asked, knowing fully well what he meant. Her hands negotiated the folds of his dhoti and found the hot, hard flesh of his cock directly to touch. Her fingers played on the soft skin of his well-oiled cock and the hard steel of his pillar within. She wanted it.
"I need to suck your breasts," stammered Baba. He did not intend to stammer but when he felt his daughter-in-law's fingers on his cock and her sultry, husky whisper asked him what he wanted to do, the stammer conveyed the sexually charged tension in him.
She put her hand on the back of his head and pressed his face to her large chest. He chewed tentatively. Suddenly, gripping his hair she pulled his head away.
"Dear. Not here. See me on the terrace in one hour's time," she whispered. She wiped the smear of cum on his dhoti and rearranged her pallo.
"Where are you going to be for one hour, beta?" he asked.
"Clearing up and then seeing to your son," she said.
"Seeing to him?" he asked.
"Yes. You don't want him coming looking for me, do you?" she asked.
