I was disappointed that Ravi, my husband, could not go with me for my niece's marriage. It was to be held in a village which was an overnight journey by train from Mumbai. But Ravi got stuck and I had to go alone. My daughter, who was 5 years old, also stayed back since her school was open. As the train crossed Mumbai and left back the brown and grey coloured houses and the shanties and the incessant rains formed a shifting net on the villages, I again found myself a happy person.

When I reached, the festivities were on. There were a large number of relatives and friends. I didn't know half of them and was glad to find Shweta. Shweta was my cousin sister, 15 years older to me. She was 45. She was a brilliant student, had moved to Paris, got married and divorced. She had brought along her son, Pierre, who was 20, along with her.

Pierre was a handsome boy, 5 ft 9 inches tall, somewhat studious looking, lean, with a charming smile, a cleft on the chin and a distant look. I was seeing him for the first time and Pierre hugged me and touched his cheek with mine. I was not special, he did it with every lady present, irrespective of their age.

Then there were the usual rituals. Pierre was just moving around, taking photos with his mobile phone for a while. After that he went out to the courtyard. I went to him and asked him "are you bored?"

"Yes. Can you suggest something?" he asked.

"We can go out for a stroll. There are some beautiful spots here and a spring." I said.

"Let's go then - you and I" Pierre was happy at the suggestion.

I told Shweta and others that we were leaving. We passed the village. The crowd was curious to see an Indian lady accompanying a foreign boy. Pierre was full of questions. He asked the names of the trees, the birds, the insects and I didn't know most of them.

"You seem to be rather unaware of your surroundings". He said.

"But I do not belong here. I live in a huge, humungous city which is full of people. I know nothing of nature." I said.

"What do you do?"

"I am a fashion designer, I cook and look after my husband."

"Do you love your husband?"

"I guess so."

"That's not a very clear answer."

"I am supposed to love my husband and take care of the family. My husband, in turn, is supposed to earn. I think we are doing our duties. Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Yes I do. We love each other a lot."

"Will you marry each other?"

Pierre laughed. He said "we haven't decided yet."

As we are talking, we approached the stream cascading down the small hill and meandering into a bush. There were butterflies and grasshoppers and bees flying. Pierre was elated. I hitched up my sari to my knees. We waded through the stream, splashed water on each other and laughed a lot. Suddenly I lost balance and was falling down when Pierre caught me. He steadied me but didn't let go. We were looking at each other. And then he brought his mouth close to mine just lingering an inch in front, his breath on my breath but doing nothing. I just could not resist any more. I pressed my lips against his. I held him tight. Our lips ventured each other's lips, cheek, nose, chin, neck, forehead and ears. Pierre stuck out his tongue and pushed it into my mouth. He smelt of the afternoon lunch. His tongue was salty. We rolled our tongues in each other's mouth. After some time we parted. I was panting and Pierre was smiling. I was not. I was a little ashamed and immensely excited. But it was time to go back.

"You liked it?" Pierre asked.

"You know, I am not supposed to do this. It's not correct" I said.

"That's not my answer. I asked you whether you liked it?"

"Did you like it?" I asked.

"Yes. Very much. You are a pretty and supple woman. You have got luscious lips. There are a thousand of reasons to like it." He said.

"But I am your aunt!"

"And a very pretty woman."

"You know, this is not done. I have never done it. I don't know what got into me."

"The problem is that most of us deny our pleasures. While it is particularly true for this country, it is partially true in our country also. You are trying to deny that you had pleasure since your social custom and norms tell you that it is wrong."

I kept quite and then said "what would your girlfriend say if she knew this?"

Pierre didn't say anything. He took out his mobile phone and keyed in something. I espied that it was in French to a girl called Adele. There was some reply in French which I couldn't understand with a smileys of a middle finger, a broken heart, a kiss and a big smile.

"You know what I wrote to my girlfriend?" Pierre asked.


"That I just kissed a very pretty girl in the woods. I also told her that she is my aunt."

"And what did she say?"

"She abused me and asked me to have fun. You saw the smileys. We love each other and don't mind if we have a fling. We know life is short and youth is shorter. We just take care that we don't get a disease or no one gets our picture while we are having fun and that's it."

"Do you always confess?"

"No. We don't need to. I did this because you provoked me."

I somehow felt very comfortable after that. We held each other's waist and walked back. We kissed each other a number of times on our way back. Ravi, my husband called in between to ask how it was going. I told him that it was all fine and I missed him.

"What would Ravi say if he knew that we were kissing?" Pierre asked.

"I don't know. He would get very upset. I can't even think what he would do."

The first day's function got over well after midnight. I purposely avoided Pierre but we were looking at each other from a distance. In between, he was holding the shoulders of beautiful looking lady while talking to her and I felt jealous, after many years.

At night, we were told to sleep in a large room where arrangements were made on the floor for about 12 people. This was normally the practice, but Shweta seemed to be upset. Pierre said he would like to lie down between me and Shweta. Shweta smiled and gave way. Lights were put off and I was tired but could not sleep with Pierre by my side.

After about 15 minutes, when everyone seemed to be asleep, I suddenly found Pierre's hand on my cheek. I moved close to him and covered both of us with my blanket. We kissed again. Pierre moved his hand and I felt him on my breast. But the hand was not moving. I was nervous. I wanted to do something but did not know whether to do it. I clutched his hand and placed it on my boobs. He got the indication and started moving his hand. Luckily I was not wearing a bra under my blouse. I quickly unhooked my blouse and bared my chest to his expert hands which played with my breasts, tickled the valley and flicked and twisted my nipples. I lowered my hand and found his penis. He was wearing a pair of shorts with an elastic band. I pulled it down and he helped me to do that. His penis was in my hand. I could play with the boy's penis and balls - who was much younger than me and liked me!

I was shivering and hoping that he would move his hands to my pussy, which was itching. Soon, he was exploring my belly gut got stuck at the knot of my chemise. I pulled my saree and my chemise to my waist, baring myself completely. It is not common for us to wear panties at night under the saree. I was completely wet and shivering with expectation.

Pierre's left hand was on my boobs and his right hand explored my thighs. He was intentionally delaying. I took hold of his hand again and put it on my pussy. I opened my legs. He expertly pulled my pubic hair and tickled my vulva. He then inserted his middle finger and started inserting it in and out, making a come here kind of motion with his finger. I was in the seventh heaven. I let go of his penis and clutched him tightly, rhythmically moving my ass and rubbing myself against his leg. His penis was rubbing my belly. He bent and sucked my nipple, flicking his tongue across it and biting it lightly now and then. I forgot that there were people all around us. It took a lot of effort on my part to stop myself from crying out.

I came soon - much earlier than I had ever and waves after waves of pleasure flew through my body. I took some time to recover and then realised that Pierre was yet unfulfilled. He was still clutching me tight. I tugged his penis and he took my other hand and placed it on his balls. I squeezed it. For Pierre too, it did not take long to come. I covered the tip of his penis with my chemise such that the bedcover did not become wet. It was a little uncomfortable to sleep in a wet chemise, which I straightened and hooked my blouse before going to sleep but both of us had a sound sleep.

This was my first sex outside marriage.

The next morning Shweta told me that Pierre and she would like to move to a hotel since the arrangements here were not quite comfortable and asked me whether I would join them. I readily agreed. We moved to a nearby hotel. Pierre winked at me. My husband called and asked whether I was having a good time and I said yes. I told him that I was moving to a hotel with Shweta and her son.

We asked for a single room for all three of us. The bed was quite large with an extra pillow, where all of us could sleep. Just as we entered, Pierre said that he needed to have a proper bath. He entered the bathroom as Swati and I relaxed. After about fifteen minutes the bathroom door opened and as I looked up, I was shocked. Pierre came out, drying his hair with a towel, completely naked. I was a middle aged lady facing a lanky young boy with an almost hairless body, a handsome face, not too muscular, a flat belly and well formed legs and buttocks with a dangling, half-erect, uncircumcised penis, clipped pubic hair which was brown, whistling a tune and nonchalantly drying his hair in front of two ladies including his mother.

My jaws dropped and I was blushing and drooling at the same time. I was in a trance which was awakened by Shweta who said admonishingly "how many times have I told you Pierre that this is not France!"

"But Tithi is a friend. Aren't you Tithi?" Pierre asked, extending his hands towards me.

I could not answer. My action thereafter was entirely involuntary and I cannot say whether I correctly recall them.

I got up from the couch and embraced Pierre. I rubbed my face on his chest and licked his nipples. His penis touched my belly and I rubbed it with my body. Pierre was first embracing me. Soon he lowered his hands and started kneading my ass. He lifted my nightie and I raised my hands. I wanted to be nude such that I could feel his nude body against mine. I wanted Pierre to strip me.

Pierre threw the nightie away and started licking me. He picked me up while kissing me at the same time and slowly placed me on the bed. He squatted over my face and bent down to suck me. He opened my vulva with fingers and kissed me inside. He was biting my vulva lips and running his tongue. His penis was erect, far from my lips but his balls were dangling near my mouth. I started fondling them and licking them. Pierre found my clitoris (which I did not know it existed) and started licking it while rubbing my outer lips. And then I came violently. I never knew that I could come like that for so long and in so many waves.

When I recovered, I found Pierre's lightly kissing me. Even after that orgasm, I felt like I had the energy to continue. I looked down and found Pierre's penis throbbing. I took it in my hand and gave it a rub. I fondled his balls and squeezed them. I kissed his nipples and rubbed myself against him. Pierre said "Tithi, I need to come". I quickly opened my legs and Pierre inserted his penis.

At the same time, I found that someone was tickling my anus. I looked down. Shweta, with her mighty boobs, had taken off all her clothes. We were partly hanging from the bed and Shweta had crawled underneath us. She had put a finger inside my anus and was circling it within. At the same time she was licking her son's asshole. "Oh Mama" Pierre cried and continued pushing his penis inside me. There was another wave of pleasure building in me. But before that Pierre came. He quickly whipped out his penis and came all over my belly, gasping all the time.

Once he was over, Pierre continued to lie over me and covered me with kisses. But Shweta had not finished. She got up on the bed and pushed away Pierre. She squatted on my face and said "suck me, you dirty slut" in a hoarse voice. Her pussy smelt of sex and lavender. I licked it and Shweta grinded her pussy against my face. Her boobs rocked violently. Pierre settled above my head and started kneading Sheta's boobs. I inserted my tongue inside Shweta's pussy and started flicking her clitoris. It was salty. Pierre was kissing his mother. She had arched backwards against the assault of her son. Very soon, she came and spilled all her cum juice on my mouth.

All three of us were exhausted. We lay down on the bed, panting, with Pierre on the middle. I was still holding Pierre's dick, which was promising to grow again and Shweta was fondling his balls. I kissed Pierre and said "I love you both".

Pierre said "we love you too".

"Do you two have sex regularly?" I asked.

"No. Only when we are horny and there is no one around to have fun with."

"Does Francois know?"

This time Shweta relied. "Francois has become a celibate. He doesn't bother. He possibly knows. You know Tithi, it's so nice to have sex with my son!"

"It's nice to have sex with you too Mom" Pierre said, brushing his fingers on Shweta's shaved pussy.

"I need to take a bath" I said and got up.







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