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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.
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 tuzla escort 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, tuzla yabancı escort 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, ümraniye escort 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.
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