- 159
- 182
- 44
Incest "Craving Kin: A Sultry Family Affair"
- Thread starter Syamala_39
- Start date
- 5,420
- 159
- 182
- 44
kirantariq
Well-Known Member
- 8,418
- 8,149
- 189
- 159
- 182
- 44
- 159
- 182
- 44
Shyamala and her family were in the midst of a hectic transition as they prepared to relocate from the bustling city of Chennai to the serene landscapes of Kodagu. The days were filled with the chaos of packing their belongings into boxes, carefully labeling each one to ensure nothing was lost in the move. In the midst of this, their home was also serving as a temporary guest house for employees of a multinational corporation, adding to the flurry of activity. Friends and family offered their support, but the excitement of a new beginning was palpable, even amidst the stress of packing and hosting guests.
Sudhip turned like a storm to help his mom and sisters. Shyamala didn't have alone time with Sudhip; in between the preparations, she exchanged some cuddles and hugs with Sudhip. Meanwhile, Banu's lust built enormously for her brother. Having received a green signal from her mom, she willingly aroused Sudhip while packing her things. She let him pack her innerwear and showed him she liked his touch on her innerwear. It was 2 pm after lunch; all took rest in their rooms.
Within a week, all was set to shift their base to Kodagu. The day had arrived.
The night was silent and young for the Chennai people, not for Shyamala and family.
Shyamala: Sudhip... Sudhip...
Devasena: Sudhip, don't you hear Amma calling you? Go check with her.
Dinakaran: Annu..Annu...(Ananya's pet name in the house), did you pack your things? Bring them down and keep them here in the hall.
Ananya: (from upstairs, replied loudly) Yes pa, I am bringing them down. Send Sudhip here; it's heavy for me to bring down.
Dinakaran asked Sudhip to help Ananya bring her luggage down. Sudhip went to his sister's room; she was packing her things. She was bending on the bed, her saree pallu was on the bed, and her square low-cut choli struggled to hide her deep cleavage. Sudhip's eyes enjoyed the feast of his sister's cleavage. Devasena made her luggage and brought it down. Sudhip took his sister's luggage, Shyamala giving instructions, holding her pallu in hand, her sharp pointed boobs showing their full gaze, and she let Sudhip go down with the luggage. She felt warm and her sticky wet panty due to summer; she removed her bra and panty. She wore her low-cut thin blouse again and watched herself in the mirror, her nipples poking the blouse like tearing it. Her boobs stood up like a young woman's. Even Banumathi's boobs had gone down a little sag, not too saggy. Shyamala heard her husband calling her from downstairs. She came down and noted the luggages were placed in the SUV.
All set to go, Banu ran for the front seat. Banu adjusted between her brother at the steering and Devasena in the passenger seat. She kept her legs on either side of the gear shaft. As usual, she was in her baggy floral Hawaiian shorts and matching sleeveless top. Shyamala and Dinakaran adjusted themselves in the rear seat. Due to the trunk being full, some luggages were kept in the rear seat. For Ananya, only one seat was available for her. Devasena joked to her sister to sit on the top of the car. But Dinakaran told her, why on the top? Come on baby, you can sit on my lap; we will change course alternatively. Ananya pinched his cheeks playfully and gave a counter to Devasena's joke, "See, my dad is always for me; I will be comfortable on his lap." She hiked her skirt hem a little and adjusted her silky smooth ass on her dad's lap. Devasena smirked at her sister, ok..ok...it's your fate to experience the odd things, and winked her eyes. All settled inside the car. It was 3 am in the morning. They had to travel long hours to their newly purchased asset in Kodagu. They decided to renovate minor things in the bungalow and enjoy the vacation. The estate with bungalow came at a cheap rate, situated in the center of a 15-acre farm land. 5 to 6 acres of coffee plants and 3 acres of pepper plantation, the rest is agricultural land for ginger.
All settled in the car and Sudhip moved the car. He drove in the alleys and small roads from their house and reached the highway in forty-five minutes. In between, Shyamala, Ananya, and Devasena fell asleep and snored a little. Dinakaran was awake due to his daughter's weight on his lap. Ananya tried to get some sleep; she comfortably leaned back on her dad, he wrapped his hands around her waist line, her face laid on his side face. Her silky cheeks brushed on his lips. In the front seat, Banu was looking around and keeping her brother company. He liked someone to keep him awake while driving. She kept her legs a little wider as a V so her brother could easily access the gear shaft. The car touched the highway and the lights faded. Only the passing vehicles' lights swept inside the car. Sudhip, keeping his eyes on the road, touched the gear shaft; he moved the shaft down to high speed, his hands felt Banu's plump thighs on either sides. While she tried to open her legs a little wider, her crotch moved forward to the shaft. She put a hand on his seat; she sat like leaned on him. She asked her brother to drive a little slow until sunlight came up. He looked at her and the road at the same time, trying to reduce the speed. His hand clearly touched her inner thighs near her crotch area. His hand above the wrist rested on her bare thighs. He took his hands after a few seconds. He drove further a little longer and saw a pot hole in the middle of the road. He hurried to slow down by changing gear to let the family members stay comfortable. In that process, the back of his palm touched and caressed Banu's crotch. He kept the hand on the gear shaft and drove. Even though he tried to avoid the potholes, it was not possible for him. Banu jerked a little forward, and her pussy touched his hand on the gear shaft. From the reflection, her legs wrapped his hand. Sudhip felt her warm and bare thighs around his hand, the soft, velvety skin pressing against his palm like a forbidden embrace, sending a jolt of electricity up his arm. Banu's breath hitched slightly, her body responding to the intimate contact, a warmth spreading from her core as she subtly shifted, allowing her thighs to clamp tighter, the heat between them building in the dark confines of the car, her heart racing with a mix of surprise and arousal.
Meanwhile, Dinakaran felt something on his lips; he felt a watery thing. He tried to clean his lips; his fingers touched Ananya's lips. Her lips were wet, and the saliva was dripping in her sleep. He tried to dry her lips with his fingers; it woke her up. She groaned a little and lost her sleep. She asked him what happened; he murmured in her ears about her saliva dripping into his mouth. She shyly said sorry to him. Both fully awake, she turned one-sided on his lap; she lowered her head and spoke very smoothly not to wake up others. Dinakaran and Ananya didn't notice them because they were both trembling and excited by their closeness. He kept his hands on Ananya's smooth thighs. She kept her palm on his hands, showing him like she had no problem with him. Ananya wrapped her right hand on her dad's neck and spoke to him by lowering her face, making her lips brush his left cheek. His left hand was around her back, and his right hand kept on her thigh. He slowly moved his right hand up and down; Ananya bridged her left hand fingers with her dad's fingers. She crushed his fingers with her fingers and nudged her nose on his cheeks, mumbled like what are you searching on my legs. Dinakaran replied, "nothing". Then Ananya said, "something has grown up big under my butt, dad! It's not correct, dear." But her lips only said it; she liked the thrill in touching her while the family was around them. In the front seat, Sudhip's finger did the magic for Banu. Without any consciousness about what was going on in the back, she let his fingers search her thighs. In the dark road, the intense lust built within them. Dinakaran kept his left hand on his daughter's ass directly; she looked into his eyes, even though it was dark outside, their eyes adjusted to see each other in the dark. He playfully licked her right cheek; it tickled her face. She moved her face a little, and his wet tongue landed on her rose petal-like lips. She playfully tried to bite his tongue; he pulled back his tongue. She pinched his nipples for losing the challenge; again he let out his tongue fully. This time she cupped his tongue with her lips. She showed thumbs up for her win to him and tried to move her lips; he pressed her face, and they both ended up in a lip lock. His dry lips sucked her wet lips, and his hands tried to take her inside of him. Both of their bodies budged with each other. Ananya felt his hard chest under her smooth skin. Both tried to suck each other for quite more than five minutes. Finally, they parted their lips separate from each other. In the front, Sudhip's fingers neared the hem of her floral panties. He felt her silky and curly hair of her buffy unused pussy, the soft strands tickling his fingertips like a secret invitation, sending a rush of heat through his body as he imagined the warmth beneath, his pulse quickening with the illicit thrill. He kneaded the small bunch of hair with his two fingers, the gentle tug eliciting a soft gasp from Banu, her thighs quivering slightly against his hand, the pain mingling with pleasure in her pussy edge like a sweet ache that made her core throb, her breath shallow and hot against his ear as she bit her lip to stifle a moan. She held his fingers from moving up further, their eyes meeting briefly in the dim light, a silent understanding passing between them amid the thrill of the forbidden touch, her body arching slightly, pressing her heat closer to his exploring fingers. They both kept silent for some time. Again, his fingers tried to go under her panty hem; she held tight and murmured, "Not now, bro." He obliged her request and went down to feel her thighs.
Both sister and dad enjoying their brother and daughter. Ananya shifted her position on his lap. Now his face laid on her boobs. She inserted her hand inside his shirt and pinched his nipples; it was like beads. She felt his strong chest. His hands moved under her tops; he kneaded her gold chain and went down on her navel. His finger poked her navel hole, and she shivered by his action. She felt her pussy oozing out her honey; Dinakaran got courage and moved his hands upward, and he smoothly cupped her left boob over her blouse. She closed her eyes and let him knead her fully ripe boob; she bit his cheek to control her moans. Dinakaran's hand mercilessly crushed her boobs. She and Dinakaran never engaged in this long groping, and she finally reached her orgasm by excitement. Banu's status was also at the same manner. She never experienced a man's hand around her mound while around her family members. She got wet, and her panty soaked, the damp fabric clinging to her skin like a second layer, her arousal evident in the way her thighs trembled, the scent of her desire subtly filling the confined space, her mind racing with the forbidden ecstasy of her brother's accidental touch. But the sun didn't wait for the family Kamasutra to finish. Sun came up with a blur lighting. Both Dinakaran and Ananya stopped their lust game and felt to get some sleep. Banu already fell asleep. Sudhip was the only man awake and driving carefully. After an hour, he stopped the car for tea. Before getting down, he looked at Banu; her Bermuda opened at the right thigh, went high, and her floral designed panty was visible underneath along with her thick curly hairs of her pussy peeking from the hem of the panty. He looked at other family members, then he corrected her Bermuda. Ananya woke up by sunlight falling on her face. She asked her brother where they were. He said they reached some place. He asked her to have tea with him; hearing their talk, Shyamala and Devasena also woke up, and they woke up Dinakaran and Mom. They woke Banu also with them, and they went to refresh and drank tea and just walked and stood for some time to stretch their legs. After that, they didn't stop for anything and reached their estate at 10 am. There, some helpers welcomed them. When Sudhip and Ananya got down from the car and saw their new home. For Ananya, without reason, she liked the place very much.
- 159
- 182
- 44
ASHWIN:
Behind the grand bungalow nestled in the heart of the 15-acre estate, a modest set of servant quarters stood discreetly, shrouded by a thicket of coffee plants and towering pepper vines. This was home to Ashwin, the 28-year-old caretaker who had been tending to the property long before Shyamala and her family arrived. Ashwin was a striking young man, tall and lean with sun-kissed skin from years of labor under Kodagu's misty skies. His sharp features—high cheekbones, a chiseled jaw, and piercing dark eyes—turned heads in the nearby village, but he carried himself with a quiet efficiency that made him indispensable. As the caretaker, he oversaw everything from pruning the coffee bushes to maintaining the bungalow's plumbing and electrical systems. He was brilliant at it, anticipating issues before they arose, negotiating with local laborers for the ginger fields, and ensuring the estate ran like a well-oiled machine. The previous owners had praised his dedication, and now Shyamala's family relied on him for the minor renovations they planned during their vacation-turned-relocation.
Living with him in the quarters was his mother, Sumathi, a 49-year-old orthodox woman who embodied the traditional values of rural Karnataka. She dressed modestly in simple cotton sarees, her long black hair often tied in a tight bun adorned with fresh jasmine flowers she plucked from the garden. Yet, despite her conservative demeanor—attending temple poojas daily, fasting on auspicious days, and reciting mantras under her breath while cooking—Sumathi possessed a natural allure that belied her age. Her body retained the soft, inviting curves of a woman who had lived fully: full breasts that strained against her blouse, a narrow waist that flared into wide, swaying hips, and a voluptuous ass that jiggled subtly with each step, drawing covert glances from the estate workers and villagers alike. Men whispered about her "hot ass," fantasizing about pressing their hardening dicks against its plush warmth, grinding into the cleft hidden beneath her saree. Her most captivating feature, though, was her big, seductive eyes—deep pools of kohl-lined mystery that could hold a gaze and stir unspoken desires. Sumathi was oblivious to the lust she inspired, attributing any attention to her piety and homemaking skills. She prepared simple meals for herself and Ashwin, tended a small herb garden, and occasionally helped Nalini with household chores when the main family needed extra hands. To her, life with her son was ordinary and harmonious—he helped with errands, shared quiet meals, and respected her routines, just as any dutiful son would.
But beneath Ashwin's polished exterior as the reliable caretaker lurked a shadow of dark, unspoken wishes that he buried deep in his heart, never sharing them with anyone, least of all his mother. From a young age, he had harbored a fascination with women's undergarments, drawn to their intimate scents and the forbidden thrill they represented. It started innocently enough—sneaking peeks at laundry lines in the village—but evolved into a compulsion. He loved to sniff bras and panties, inhaling the musky, feminine essence that clung to them, his cock twitching and hardening as the aroma filled his senses. This fetish intertwined with a deeper yearning: a desire to remain submissive to women, to surrender control and serve their whims without question. He fantasized about being commanded, humiliated even, by a dominant female figure—kneeling at her feet, performing menial tasks, or enduring teasing touches that left him aching for release.
His mother, Sumathi, became the unwitting center of these obsessions, though she remained completely unaware, seeing only the humble facade he presented. Ashwin dreamed of confessing his desires in his private thoughts, of prostrating before her and begging to do whatever she liked: massaging her tired feet after a long day, washing her sarees by hand, or even more intimately, attending to her personal needs in ways that blurred the lines of filial duty. He imagined her using his secrets to dominate him—ordering him to sniff her worn panties as punishment, or making him masturbate while she watched with those seductive eyes, denying him climax until she deemed him worthy—but these remained locked in his mind, never crossing into reality.
To fuel these fantasies, Ashwin had taken to stealing her undergarments in secret. Sumathi's bras and panties were plain but well-worn, carrying the potent scent of her body—sweat from the humid estate air, mixed with the faint floral soap she used. He'd wait until she was at the temple or napping, then slip into her room, rifling through her cupboard for a fresh pair. His favorites were her cotton panties, soft and absorbent, often stained lightly from her daily exertions. Back in his small room, he'd press them to his nose, inhaling deeply as his hand wrapped around his throbbing cock. The aroma of her wide, hot ass—musky and earthy—would send him into a frenzy, stroking himself furiously while picturing himself buried face-first between her cheeks, submitting to her commands. "Yes, Amma," he'd whisper in his mind, "use me however you want." Sometimes, he'd wrap her bra around his shaft, the cups still warm from her curves, and thrust into the fabric until he erupted, spilling his seed onto the material before carefully washing and returning it undetected. Sumathi had noticed a few items vanishing over time, but she dismissed it as the work of the strong estate winds whisking them away from the laundry line, never once suspecting her son's involvement.
One evening, shortly after Shyamala's family settled in, Ashwin's routine took a riskier turn. While Sumathi was helping Nalini in the bungalow's kitchen, he snuck into the quarters' laundry area. There, hanging on a line, was a pair of her panties—damp from a recent wash but still carrying her essence. His heart raced as he pocketed them, his submissive urges flaring. That night, alone in his bed, he indulged: sniffing the crotch deeply, tasting the faint saltiness on his tongue, and jerking off with visions of kneeling before her, offering his body for her pleasure. His secrets remained his alone, simmering in the shadows of the estate as he continued his ordinary life with his mother.
As the family's vacation unfolded, Ashwin's paths began to cross more frequently with the newcomers. He assisted Sudhip with repairs, his eyes occasionally lingering on Banumathi's form, wondering if she, too, could command his submission. But for now, his inner darkness stayed hidden, a private torment fueling his daily existence.
Nalini and Shankaran were the epitome of dedicated workers, their unwavering commitment to the estate and the bungalow making them invaluable to Shyamala and her family from the moment they arrived in Kodagu. Hailing from a nearby village, the couple had served the previous owners for over a decade, and now they extended the same loyalty to their new employers with a humility that endeared them to everyone. Well-mannered and unassuming, they accepted every task with gracious nods and soft-spoken affirmations, never complaining about the long hours or the variety of chores that came their way. Whether it was scrubbing the verandas until they gleamed under the morning sun or tending to the sprawling gardens, they approached their work with a genuine passion that transformed mundane duties into acts of care, as if the estate were their own cherished home.
Shyamala, in particular, was captivated by their dedication, often pausing in her day to watch them with a warm smile, appreciating how Shankaran methodically organized tools in the shed or how Nalini infused every meal with flavors that evoked the rich heritage of Coorgi cuisine. The entire family treated them with kindness and respect, addressing them as "Akka" and "Anna" in a familial tone that blurred the lines between employer and employee. Within just three days, the Shyamala household had fallen in love with Nalini's cooking—her fluffy idiyappams steamed to perfection, aromatic paya curries simmered with spices from the estate's own pepper vines, and evening snacks like crispy murukku that vanished from plates in minutes. Shankaran's contributions were equally praised; he kept the house's exterior impeccably clean, sweeping away fallen leaves from the coffee plants and polishing the stone pathways until they shone like mirrors. Every dawn, he milked the three sturdy cows in the cattle shed with gentle expertise, his hands coaxing fresh, creamy milk that filled buckets to the brim. Shyamala would measure out what the family needed for their teas, yogurts, and desserts, then generously hand the excess to Nalini for her own use or to share with Ashwin and Sumathi in the servant quarters, fostering a sense of community that made the estate feel like a shared haven.
Nalini, at 39, was a vision of glamorous allure wrapped in the simplicity of rural life, her presence lighting up the bungalow like a hidden gem amidst the misty hills. With sun-kissed caramel skin that glowed under the Kodagu sun, she moved with an effortless grace, her curvaceous figure accentuated by the traditional sarees she draped in vibrant hues of saffron and emerald. Her ample bosom strained against her fitted blouses, drawing subtle admiration, while her hips swayed hypnotically with each step, a natural rhythm that spoke of quiet sensuality. Long, raven-black hair cascaded down her back in loose waves when unbound, framing a face blessed with high cheekbones, full lips painted a soft rose, and expressive doe eyes that sparkled with warmth and mischief. There was a glamorous, almost cinematic quality to her—reminiscent of a classic film heroine, her laughter like tinkling bells during meal preparations, and her scent a intoxicating blend of jasmine from her hair and the earthy spices she handled. Yet, she remained grounded, her glamorous beauty matched by her tireless work ethic; she rose before dawn to kindle the kitchen fire, chopped vegetables with precision, and scrubbed pots until evening, her dedication shining through sweat-glistened skin.
Observing Nalini's relentless pace from morning till dusk, Shyamala insisted she take restorative breaks in the afternoons, often preparing a cool glass of buttermilk for her to sip in the shaded balcony, allowing her to recharge amid the serene sounds of the estate. Shankaran, a sturdy 45-year-old with a kind face etched by years of outdoor labor, complemented her perfectly; his calloused hands were as gentle with the cows as they were efficient in repairing fences or harvesting ginger from the fields. In a touching display of humility, Shyamala extended invitations for Nalini, Shankaran, Ashwin, and Sumathi to join the family for dinner each evening, setting extra places at the long wooden table in the backyard under the stars. The gesture was met with shy gratitude, and soon the other family members—Sudhip offering Shankaran a hand with heavy lifting, Banumathi chatting animatedly with Nalini about recipes, Devasena and Ananya sharing laughs over tea—followed suit, creating bonds that turned meals into lively gatherings. Dinakaran would regale them with stories from Chennai, while Shyamala ensured everyone felt included, her acts of kindness reinforcing the harmony that now defined life at the estate. Through it all, Nalini and Shankaran's passion for their roles not only kept the household running smoothly but also wove them into the fabric of the family's new beginning, their presence a quiet blessing amid the lush landscapes of Kodagu.
Behind the grand bungalow nestled in the heart of the 15-acre estate, a modest set of servant quarters stood discreetly, shrouded by a thicket of coffee plants and towering pepper vines. This was home to Ashwin, the 28-year-old caretaker who had been tending to the property long before Shyamala and her family arrived. Ashwin was a striking young man, tall and lean with sun-kissed skin from years of labor under Kodagu's misty skies. His sharp features—high cheekbones, a chiseled jaw, and piercing dark eyes—turned heads in the nearby village, but he carried himself with a quiet efficiency that made him indispensable. As the caretaker, he oversaw everything from pruning the coffee bushes to maintaining the bungalow's plumbing and electrical systems. He was brilliant at it, anticipating issues before they arose, negotiating with local laborers for the ginger fields, and ensuring the estate ran like a well-oiled machine. The previous owners had praised his dedication, and now Shyamala's family relied on him for the minor renovations they planned during their vacation-turned-relocation.
Living with him in the quarters was his mother, Sumathi, a 49-year-old orthodox woman who embodied the traditional values of rural Karnataka. She dressed modestly in simple cotton sarees, her long black hair often tied in a tight bun adorned with fresh jasmine flowers she plucked from the garden. Yet, despite her conservative demeanor—attending temple poojas daily, fasting on auspicious days, and reciting mantras under her breath while cooking—Sumathi possessed a natural allure that belied her age. Her body retained the soft, inviting curves of a woman who had lived fully: full breasts that strained against her blouse, a narrow waist that flared into wide, swaying hips, and a voluptuous ass that jiggled subtly with each step, drawing covert glances from the estate workers and villagers alike. Men whispered about her "hot ass," fantasizing about pressing their hardening dicks against its plush warmth, grinding into the cleft hidden beneath her saree. Her most captivating feature, though, was her big, seductive eyes—deep pools of kohl-lined mystery that could hold a gaze and stir unspoken desires. Sumathi was oblivious to the lust she inspired, attributing any attention to her piety and homemaking skills. She prepared simple meals for herself and Ashwin, tended a small herb garden, and occasionally helped Nalini with household chores when the main family needed extra hands. To her, life with her son was ordinary and harmonious—he helped with errands, shared quiet meals, and respected her routines, just as any dutiful son would.
But beneath Ashwin's polished exterior as the reliable caretaker lurked a shadow of dark, unspoken wishes that he buried deep in his heart, never sharing them with anyone, least of all his mother. From a young age, he had harbored a fascination with women's undergarments, drawn to their intimate scents and the forbidden thrill they represented. It started innocently enough—sneaking peeks at laundry lines in the village—but evolved into a compulsion. He loved to sniff bras and panties, inhaling the musky, feminine essence that clung to them, his cock twitching and hardening as the aroma filled his senses. This fetish intertwined with a deeper yearning: a desire to remain submissive to women, to surrender control and serve their whims without question. He fantasized about being commanded, humiliated even, by a dominant female figure—kneeling at her feet, performing menial tasks, or enduring teasing touches that left him aching for release.
His mother, Sumathi, became the unwitting center of these obsessions, though she remained completely unaware, seeing only the humble facade he presented. Ashwin dreamed of confessing his desires in his private thoughts, of prostrating before her and begging to do whatever she liked: massaging her tired feet after a long day, washing her sarees by hand, or even more intimately, attending to her personal needs in ways that blurred the lines of filial duty. He imagined her using his secrets to dominate him—ordering him to sniff her worn panties as punishment, or making him masturbate while she watched with those seductive eyes, denying him climax until she deemed him worthy—but these remained locked in his mind, never crossing into reality.
To fuel these fantasies, Ashwin had taken to stealing her undergarments in secret. Sumathi's bras and panties were plain but well-worn, carrying the potent scent of her body—sweat from the humid estate air, mixed with the faint floral soap she used. He'd wait until she was at the temple or napping, then slip into her room, rifling through her cupboard for a fresh pair. His favorites were her cotton panties, soft and absorbent, often stained lightly from her daily exertions. Back in his small room, he'd press them to his nose, inhaling deeply as his hand wrapped around his throbbing cock. The aroma of her wide, hot ass—musky and earthy—would send him into a frenzy, stroking himself furiously while picturing himself buried face-first between her cheeks, submitting to her commands. "Yes, Amma," he'd whisper in his mind, "use me however you want." Sometimes, he'd wrap her bra around his shaft, the cups still warm from her curves, and thrust into the fabric until he erupted, spilling his seed onto the material before carefully washing and returning it undetected. Sumathi had noticed a few items vanishing over time, but she dismissed it as the work of the strong estate winds whisking them away from the laundry line, never once suspecting her son's involvement.
One evening, shortly after Shyamala's family settled in, Ashwin's routine took a riskier turn. While Sumathi was helping Nalini in the bungalow's kitchen, he snuck into the quarters' laundry area. There, hanging on a line, was a pair of her panties—damp from a recent wash but still carrying her essence. His heart raced as he pocketed them, his submissive urges flaring. That night, alone in his bed, he indulged: sniffing the crotch deeply, tasting the faint saltiness on his tongue, and jerking off with visions of kneeling before her, offering his body for her pleasure. His secrets remained his alone, simmering in the shadows of the estate as he continued his ordinary life with his mother.
As the family's vacation unfolded, Ashwin's paths began to cross more frequently with the newcomers. He assisted Sudhip with repairs, his eyes occasionally lingering on Banumathi's form, wondering if she, too, could command his submission. But for now, his inner darkness stayed hidden, a private torment fueling his daily existence.
Nalini and Shankaran were the epitome of dedicated workers, their unwavering commitment to the estate and the bungalow making them invaluable to Shyamala and her family from the moment they arrived in Kodagu. Hailing from a nearby village, the couple had served the previous owners for over a decade, and now they extended the same loyalty to their new employers with a humility that endeared them to everyone. Well-mannered and unassuming, they accepted every task with gracious nods and soft-spoken affirmations, never complaining about the long hours or the variety of chores that came their way. Whether it was scrubbing the verandas until they gleamed under the morning sun or tending to the sprawling gardens, they approached their work with a genuine passion that transformed mundane duties into acts of care, as if the estate were their own cherished home.
Shyamala, in particular, was captivated by their dedication, often pausing in her day to watch them with a warm smile, appreciating how Shankaran methodically organized tools in the shed or how Nalini infused every meal with flavors that evoked the rich heritage of Coorgi cuisine. The entire family treated them with kindness and respect, addressing them as "Akka" and "Anna" in a familial tone that blurred the lines between employer and employee. Within just three days, the Shyamala household had fallen in love with Nalini's cooking—her fluffy idiyappams steamed to perfection, aromatic paya curries simmered with spices from the estate's own pepper vines, and evening snacks like crispy murukku that vanished from plates in minutes. Shankaran's contributions were equally praised; he kept the house's exterior impeccably clean, sweeping away fallen leaves from the coffee plants and polishing the stone pathways until they shone like mirrors. Every dawn, he milked the three sturdy cows in the cattle shed with gentle expertise, his hands coaxing fresh, creamy milk that filled buckets to the brim. Shyamala would measure out what the family needed for their teas, yogurts, and desserts, then generously hand the excess to Nalini for her own use or to share with Ashwin and Sumathi in the servant quarters, fostering a sense of community that made the estate feel like a shared haven.
Nalini, at 39, was a vision of glamorous allure wrapped in the simplicity of rural life, her presence lighting up the bungalow like a hidden gem amidst the misty hills. With sun-kissed caramel skin that glowed under the Kodagu sun, she moved with an effortless grace, her curvaceous figure accentuated by the traditional sarees she draped in vibrant hues of saffron and emerald. Her ample bosom strained against her fitted blouses, drawing subtle admiration, while her hips swayed hypnotically with each step, a natural rhythm that spoke of quiet sensuality. Long, raven-black hair cascaded down her back in loose waves when unbound, framing a face blessed with high cheekbones, full lips painted a soft rose, and expressive doe eyes that sparkled with warmth and mischief. There was a glamorous, almost cinematic quality to her—reminiscent of a classic film heroine, her laughter like tinkling bells during meal preparations, and her scent a intoxicating blend of jasmine from her hair and the earthy spices she handled. Yet, she remained grounded, her glamorous beauty matched by her tireless work ethic; she rose before dawn to kindle the kitchen fire, chopped vegetables with precision, and scrubbed pots until evening, her dedication shining through sweat-glistened skin.
Observing Nalini's relentless pace from morning till dusk, Shyamala insisted she take restorative breaks in the afternoons, often preparing a cool glass of buttermilk for her to sip in the shaded balcony, allowing her to recharge amid the serene sounds of the estate. Shankaran, a sturdy 45-year-old with a kind face etched by years of outdoor labor, complemented her perfectly; his calloused hands were as gentle with the cows as they were efficient in repairing fences or harvesting ginger from the fields. In a touching display of humility, Shyamala extended invitations for Nalini, Shankaran, Ashwin, and Sumathi to join the family for dinner each evening, setting extra places at the long wooden table in the backyard under the stars. The gesture was met with shy gratitude, and soon the other family members—Sudhip offering Shankaran a hand with heavy lifting, Banumathi chatting animatedly with Nalini about recipes, Devasena and Ananya sharing laughs over tea—followed suit, creating bonds that turned meals into lively gatherings. Dinakaran would regale them with stories from Chennai, while Shyamala ensured everyone felt included, her acts of kindness reinforcing the harmony that now defined life at the estate. Through it all, Nalini and Shankaran's passion for their roles not only kept the household running smoothly but also wove them into the fabric of the family's new beginning, their presence a quiet blessing amid the lush landscapes of Kodagu.
- 159
- 182
- 44
The days passed as they settled in the new zone. Banumathi woke up from a confusing dream. She tried to remember the dream, but she couldn't recall it. She came to the side corridor-like balcony walkway and sat on the chair there for some time.
From there, she saw the servant quarters' backyard, where a stone-walled water well stood. It was only 6 AM, and the sun hadn't risen yet. While Banumathi was watching, Nalini came outside, carrying a hot water vessel in her hand. Shankaran followed her. Nalini mixed the hot water with cold water and asked Shankaran to check if the temperature was right—whether he wanted it colder or not. Banumathi couldn't hear anything, but she assumed it was something like that. Shankaran checked and nodded his head like it was okay. Nalini went inside, and Shankaran raised his dhoti. He wasn't wearing any underwear; he took a piece of cloth like a langot, covered his dick with it, and unwrapped his dhoti before starting to take a bath. Banumathi was shocked to see his dick; she couldn't get a proper view, but she clearly saw his black flaccid cock hanging down, his balls dangling below it, and his curly hair covering a V shape around his dick. Meanwhile, Devasena also got the same view, but from inside her room.
Shankaran didn't know he was putting on a show for his employer's daughters. Banumathi got aroused watching him from outside, and Devasena from inside. He bathed without any hurry, soaping his body slowly. Finally, his hands soaped inside his langot, smoothly lathering his cock. Nalini came out and rubbed his back, pouring water over him. He finished his bath and went inside.
One by one, all of them got refreshed and assembled in the kitchen. Nalini had made idiyappam and paya for breakfast. Everyone ate and praised Nalini for her tasty breakfast. After breakfast, Shyamala prepared some snacks for them. Nalini took them all to see around the village. Shyamala stayed in the house to prepare lunch for them. Sudhip said he would stay with her; tomorrow, they could both go out, and the rest would stay home. Nalini let Shankaran help them. All went with Nalini.
Shyamala came inside after saying bye to them and saw Sudhip watching TV.
Shyamala: Someone stayed back to help his loved one, but is watching TV?
Sudhip: What do you want me to do, my love?
Shyamala: Give me a hand to hang the washed clothes on the clothesline.
Sudhip: Where is the bucket, my love? Do you want to take them to the terrace or backyard?
Shyamala: To the backyard.
Sudhip took out the clothes one by one. Shyamala hung them on the clothesline. After five minutes, Shyamala called Sudhip to give her another cloth. He didn't answer her. She turned and saw Sudhip keenly looking at a designer panty in his hand. She said, "Chi... chi... naughty, what are you looking at? Give it to me, or go inside; I will finish the job myself." But Sudhip said sorry and handed the panty to his mother. They finished the work and went inside the house. She felt hot, and they saw pomegranate fruits ripe and hanging on the tree. She asked him if he liked to drink pomegranate juice. He said yes. Both went to pluck the fruit. While she hiked herself to pluck it, it was not reachable for her. Sudhip didn't ask her anything; he just lifted her from behind. While lifting her, his hands cupped her watermelon-sized ass cheeks. She took her time to select the ripest fruit. Then they made juice; she handed one glass to Sudhip and remembered Shankaran working at the coffee farm. She took one glass of juice and went to the left side of the house. He was cleaning the area.
Shankaran was sitting and cleaning the cattle shed. She went near him to give the juice. His dhoti was folded and wrapped above his thighs, his legs were wide open, and his langot was visible with a bulge. One side, his balls came out in the gap. Shyamala giggled inside about his habit. She knew her grandfather wore a langot like this, but in these modern days, she was surprised to see him using a langot. Shankaran heard her footsteps and stood up with respect, asking her if she needed anything. She said nothing; "I just came to give you the juice." Shankaran took the glass from her like he was getting prasad from the temple. She told him, "After drinking the juice, bring the glass to the kitchen."
She came to the kitchen. Sudhip was cutting the vegetables and asked if his cuttings were okay or not. She came behind him, hugged him tightly; her big round boobs crushed against his back. She mumbled, nudging her face on his cheeks, turned his face, and brushed her lips over his. Then she asked him to stand aside with her and learn the cooking. He put his hand on her back, just a little up from her ass cheeks. His fingers roamed on her waistline. She looked into his eyes and didn't say anything. She pulled his hand from her back, took it to the front, and pressed it between the counter and her right thigh. Sudhip clearly felt her warm thigh over the saree. He moved behind her and pressed his rocking dick on her smooth ass. He pressed her against the counter and inserted his left hand inside her pallu, moving up to the bottom of her boobs. He slightly ground his rock-hard dick on her smooth, watermelon-like ass. She giggled and told him, "My sweet rascal, this should stay with us only; no one has to know about us. If it gets out, I am finished with Dad, so keep it to ourselves." He said, "Okay, Mom, I won't tell anyone," and he moved his hands up and touched her poking left-side nipple. He was kissing her lips passionately; she replied by sucking back his lips. They were lusting after each other, and they heard Shankaran's footsteps and separated. But it was too late; Shankaran had already seen their lustful kissing before entering the kitchen.
Meanwhile, Nalini led the others into the middle of the farmland. Sudhip walked in front, and Nalini followed him by guiding him. Banumathi and Devasena were in the middle, and Dinakaran and Ananya at the back. While they were walking on the divider of the paddy field, Sudhip slipped his leg. Before he fell in the mud, Nalini grabbed him from falling. Dinakaran looked at them and asked if everything was okay. Sudhip replied, "Okay, Dad, it's fine here." Ananya, walking with him, braided her fingers with his. Her body brushed over him. Dinakaran's eyes were locked on the front as his daughters Banumathi and Devasena walked in front of him. Banumathi's ass swayed like two watermelons moving inside a sack. Devasena's ass looked tight and went up and down with the rhythm of her steps. Ananya took his hand around her neck and walked closely. While walking, his hand came down, and his fingers brushed on the mound of her left boob. She felt her nipples getting hard and poking through her thin laced bra. He circled his fingers over her poking nipple and twitched it with his fingers. Ananya held his hand and pressed it on her boob, like she wanted his hand on her but not teasing. He cupped her left-side boob over her top. He crushed it in the daylight while others walked in front of him. They entered a small forest-type tree-surrounded area. Sudhip moved fast with Nalini. Banumathi and Devasena followed them at a decent distance. Ananya slowed down a bit until the other four had gone into a blind turn. Ananya pulled her father aside behind a tree; she hugged him and asked him to kiss her. He bent down, and both kissed passionately. She kept one of his hands between her thighs. He understood and touched her G-spot, rubbing over her short skirt. He pinned her on a tree, and while kissing, he touched her pussy; it was wet for him. He caressed and soothed her pussy crack with his middle finger over her panty. Ananya tried to take his fingers inside her panty, but she heard Banumathi's voice looking for them. Dinakaran replied loudly, "Honey, we are following; just a minute, we are coming."
Nalini showed them some temples and riversides, and they returned home for lunch. On the way, they saw a road going down inside the trees, with a name board of a temple. Devasena and Banumathi asked about the temple to Nalini. She explained, "There are only ruins of a temple there; nobody goes there." All reached home. After a tasty lunch, everyone went to rest for some time in their rooms. Sudhip didn't like to sleep. Sudhip went to his room and slept instantly. Shyamala went to her room and lay herself near Dinakaran. After some time, Shyamala felt something on her thighs below her saree. She opened her eyes and saw her husband's hand moving up under the saree. She mumbled, "What are you doing? It's afternoon; someone will see us." He pulled her to him and took her hand, then kept it on his throbbing cock. Shyamala didn't know about his erection. Ananya had made his cock hard; he had to release the tension somehow. He insisted Shyamala roll up her saree so he could fuck her pussy. She mumbled, "No, I don't like this quickie; tonight I want you to fuck me all night. I am as horny as hell as you; wait for tonight." Dinakaran asked her, "Okay, then just suck me; I can't keep it hard in front of others." She said okay and sat on the edge of the bed. She asked Dinakaran to stand in front of her; she opened his dhoti and started to suck him off. She started slowly, but Sudhip's touches had made her crave a dick urgently, so she turned a little wild and gave him a juicy suck on his cock. Nalini was washing her clothes and came to hang them near the trees behind Shyamala's room; she had a good live show of the blowjob. She had never sucked Shankaran since their marriage. While looking at Shyamala's action, her pussy turned moist, and her clit and nipples became hard.
The sun dipped, and the moon came out. Dinakaran went to the shop and bought some snacks for the evening, then returned home. Nalini and Shyamala prepared dinner. After dinner, all assembled in the moonlight-filled backyard. Devasena brought a music pad with Bluetooth speakers; she asked all of them to dance. She put on melody songs and insisted her mom and dad start. When Shyamala accepted, Banumathi asked Sudhip to join her. Devasena and Ananya pulled Sudhip to join them. They started their movements slowly. While turning around, Banumathi saw Nalini and Shankaran sitting on the bench. She called, "Nalini akka, come join us! Shankaran anna, come anna!" Sudhip volunteered and showed them how to hold each other; he took Shankaran's hand and placed it on her shoulder and waist, telling them to move as they knew—it was just for fun. Then he joined his sisters. They all now got the steps and danced. Banumathi held Sudhip tightly, dancing closely with him. Her closeness aroused him, and he could smell her body odor mixed with soap. His hands were on her shoulder and waist. While dancing, he didn't hold her waist tight; due to her velvet dress, his hands slid down to her ass often. Meanwhile, Sudhip was getting sandwiched between Ananya and Devasena. Ananya was already craving a manly touch; she stayed closer to him. Her boobs brushed against his back, her warm breath tickled his neck, arousing his dick in his shorts. Devasena in front rested her head slightly on his shoulder, her hand on his waist. The movements brought them closer, and she felt his poking dick between her thighs. She moved further in to feel his bulge more intensely, her breath quickening as she imagined what she had watched in the bathroom behind the servant quarters. Nalini and Shankaran held each other tightly and moved as they could.
After three songs, Sudhip asked Shyamala to dance with him. Banumathi moved with her father, and Ananya joined Sudhip. Sudhip and Devasena continued as they were. The song had heavy beats, and all moved a little faster since they were already in the rhythmic dancing. Sudhip moved and rolled fast with Devasena; she almost held him tightly, feeling his hot dick pressing firmly between her thighs, sending shivers up her spine. Her hands roamed lower, brushing his hips teasingly, whispering, "This feels... intense," as her body ground subtly against his, her nipples hardening against the fabric of her top with each sway. While moving around, they collided with Nalini and Shankaran. Sudhip held Nalini from falling down; Devasena almost dashed into Shankaran. Sudhip didn't stop; he took Nalini and continued his dance. Shankaran didn't say anything. Due to the partner change, Devasena pulled Shankaran and showed him how to move. Shankaran's legs trembled a little while he was in her hands. Devasena didn't hesitate; she danced with him smiling, brushing her front against him, her soft curves pressing into his chest with each beat. Shankaran got aroused and excited about his employer's daughter dancing so close, his langot straining under his dhoti as her hips swayed against his growing bulge. Devasena let her hand move between their waists and intentionally touched his crotch three to four times, pressing her soft boobies against his chest, murmuring softly, "You're a good dancer... feel the rhythm," her breath hot on his neck, her thighs grazing his as the music pulsed, building a forbidden heat between them. Meanwhile, Sudhip moved to a corner with good darkness; his hands slid down to Nalini's ass, pulling her closer, fingers digging into her soft, sweat-dampened saree-clad curves. Both of their bodies brushed, feeling the warmth of each other's arousal, Nalini's breath hitching as his erection pressed against her belly, whispering, "Sir... this is... thrilling," her pussy clenching with desire as his hands explored lower, tracing the outline of her thighs. Sudhip teased Shyamala by touching her waist and sliding to her ass. He started to press her ass cheeks firmly, grinding subtly, his hard length rubbing against her mound through their clothes. She moaned with a hiss and pressed his waist against her to feel his poking dick on her pussy mound more deeply, whispering, "You're making me so wet, my love... but careful," her hips undulating in response, the friction igniting sparks of pleasure. Banumathi, without any hesitation, danced sensually with her father, her hips swaying against him, her hands guiding his lower to cup her curves, whispering playfully, "Dad, your hands feel strong," as her ass ground back against his groin. Ananya, now with Sudhip, pressed her body flush against his, her bouncy breasts rubbing his chest as she whispered, "Dance closer... I like this," her nipples stiffening, her hand slipping to his waist to pull him tighter, feeling his arousal throb against her.
They enjoyed as much as possible and one by one retired to their rooms. Before going to the bedroom, Shyamala pushed Sudhip into the kitchen, pinned him against the wall, and pressed herself against him, wildly kissing him.
Banumathi felt thirsty and came to the kitchen for water; she witnessed her mother's wildness with Sudhip. She moved immediately from there and waited for some time. After they moved out from the kitchen, she went and drank water, then fell onto the bed
From there, she saw the servant quarters' backyard, where a stone-walled water well stood. It was only 6 AM, and the sun hadn't risen yet. While Banumathi was watching, Nalini came outside, carrying a hot water vessel in her hand. Shankaran followed her. Nalini mixed the hot water with cold water and asked Shankaran to check if the temperature was right—whether he wanted it colder or not. Banumathi couldn't hear anything, but she assumed it was something like that. Shankaran checked and nodded his head like it was okay. Nalini went inside, and Shankaran raised his dhoti. He wasn't wearing any underwear; he took a piece of cloth like a langot, covered his dick with it, and unwrapped his dhoti before starting to take a bath. Banumathi was shocked to see his dick; she couldn't get a proper view, but she clearly saw his black flaccid cock hanging down, his balls dangling below it, and his curly hair covering a V shape around his dick. Meanwhile, Devasena also got the same view, but from inside her room.
Shankaran didn't know he was putting on a show for his employer's daughters. Banumathi got aroused watching him from outside, and Devasena from inside. He bathed without any hurry, soaping his body slowly. Finally, his hands soaped inside his langot, smoothly lathering his cock. Nalini came out and rubbed his back, pouring water over him. He finished his bath and went inside.
One by one, all of them got refreshed and assembled in the kitchen. Nalini had made idiyappam and paya for breakfast. Everyone ate and praised Nalini for her tasty breakfast. After breakfast, Shyamala prepared some snacks for them. Nalini took them all to see around the village. Shyamala stayed in the house to prepare lunch for them. Sudhip said he would stay with her; tomorrow, they could both go out, and the rest would stay home. Nalini let Shankaran help them. All went with Nalini.
Shyamala came inside after saying bye to them and saw Sudhip watching TV.
Shyamala: Someone stayed back to help his loved one, but is watching TV?
Sudhip: What do you want me to do, my love?
Shyamala: Give me a hand to hang the washed clothes on the clothesline.
Sudhip: Where is the bucket, my love? Do you want to take them to the terrace or backyard?
Shyamala: To the backyard.
Sudhip took out the clothes one by one. Shyamala hung them on the clothesline. After five minutes, Shyamala called Sudhip to give her another cloth. He didn't answer her. She turned and saw Sudhip keenly looking at a designer panty in his hand. She said, "Chi... chi... naughty, what are you looking at? Give it to me, or go inside; I will finish the job myself." But Sudhip said sorry and handed the panty to his mother. They finished the work and went inside the house. She felt hot, and they saw pomegranate fruits ripe and hanging on the tree. She asked him if he liked to drink pomegranate juice. He said yes. Both went to pluck the fruit. While she hiked herself to pluck it, it was not reachable for her. Sudhip didn't ask her anything; he just lifted her from behind. While lifting her, his hands cupped her watermelon-sized ass cheeks. She took her time to select the ripest fruit. Then they made juice; she handed one glass to Sudhip and remembered Shankaran working at the coffee farm. She took one glass of juice and went to the left side of the house. He was cleaning the area.
Shankaran was sitting and cleaning the cattle shed. She went near him to give the juice. His dhoti was folded and wrapped above his thighs, his legs were wide open, and his langot was visible with a bulge. One side, his balls came out in the gap. Shyamala giggled inside about his habit. She knew her grandfather wore a langot like this, but in these modern days, she was surprised to see him using a langot. Shankaran heard her footsteps and stood up with respect, asking her if she needed anything. She said nothing; "I just came to give you the juice." Shankaran took the glass from her like he was getting prasad from the temple. She told him, "After drinking the juice, bring the glass to the kitchen."
She came to the kitchen. Sudhip was cutting the vegetables and asked if his cuttings were okay or not. She came behind him, hugged him tightly; her big round boobs crushed against his back. She mumbled, nudging her face on his cheeks, turned his face, and brushed her lips over his. Then she asked him to stand aside with her and learn the cooking. He put his hand on her back, just a little up from her ass cheeks. His fingers roamed on her waistline. She looked into his eyes and didn't say anything. She pulled his hand from her back, took it to the front, and pressed it between the counter and her right thigh. Sudhip clearly felt her warm thigh over the saree. He moved behind her and pressed his rocking dick on her smooth ass. He pressed her against the counter and inserted his left hand inside her pallu, moving up to the bottom of her boobs. He slightly ground his rock-hard dick on her smooth, watermelon-like ass. She giggled and told him, "My sweet rascal, this should stay with us only; no one has to know about us. If it gets out, I am finished with Dad, so keep it to ourselves." He said, "Okay, Mom, I won't tell anyone," and he moved his hands up and touched her poking left-side nipple. He was kissing her lips passionately; she replied by sucking back his lips. They were lusting after each other, and they heard Shankaran's footsteps and separated. But it was too late; Shankaran had already seen their lustful kissing before entering the kitchen.
Meanwhile, Nalini led the others into the middle of the farmland. Sudhip walked in front, and Nalini followed him by guiding him. Banumathi and Devasena were in the middle, and Dinakaran and Ananya at the back. While they were walking on the divider of the paddy field, Sudhip slipped his leg. Before he fell in the mud, Nalini grabbed him from falling. Dinakaran looked at them and asked if everything was okay. Sudhip replied, "Okay, Dad, it's fine here." Ananya, walking with him, braided her fingers with his. Her body brushed over him. Dinakaran's eyes were locked on the front as his daughters Banumathi and Devasena walked in front of him. Banumathi's ass swayed like two watermelons moving inside a sack. Devasena's ass looked tight and went up and down with the rhythm of her steps. Ananya took his hand around her neck and walked closely. While walking, his hand came down, and his fingers brushed on the mound of her left boob. She felt her nipples getting hard and poking through her thin laced bra. He circled his fingers over her poking nipple and twitched it with his fingers. Ananya held his hand and pressed it on her boob, like she wanted his hand on her but not teasing. He cupped her left-side boob over her top. He crushed it in the daylight while others walked in front of him. They entered a small forest-type tree-surrounded area. Sudhip moved fast with Nalini. Banumathi and Devasena followed them at a decent distance. Ananya slowed down a bit until the other four had gone into a blind turn. Ananya pulled her father aside behind a tree; she hugged him and asked him to kiss her. He bent down, and both kissed passionately. She kept one of his hands between her thighs. He understood and touched her G-spot, rubbing over her short skirt. He pinned her on a tree, and while kissing, he touched her pussy; it was wet for him. He caressed and soothed her pussy crack with his middle finger over her panty. Ananya tried to take his fingers inside her panty, but she heard Banumathi's voice looking for them. Dinakaran replied loudly, "Honey, we are following; just a minute, we are coming."
Nalini showed them some temples and riversides, and they returned home for lunch. On the way, they saw a road going down inside the trees, with a name board of a temple. Devasena and Banumathi asked about the temple to Nalini. She explained, "There are only ruins of a temple there; nobody goes there." All reached home. After a tasty lunch, everyone went to rest for some time in their rooms. Sudhip didn't like to sleep. Sudhip went to his room and slept instantly. Shyamala went to her room and lay herself near Dinakaran. After some time, Shyamala felt something on her thighs below her saree. She opened her eyes and saw her husband's hand moving up under the saree. She mumbled, "What are you doing? It's afternoon; someone will see us." He pulled her to him and took her hand, then kept it on his throbbing cock. Shyamala didn't know about his erection. Ananya had made his cock hard; he had to release the tension somehow. He insisted Shyamala roll up her saree so he could fuck her pussy. She mumbled, "No, I don't like this quickie; tonight I want you to fuck me all night. I am as horny as hell as you; wait for tonight." Dinakaran asked her, "Okay, then just suck me; I can't keep it hard in front of others." She said okay and sat on the edge of the bed. She asked Dinakaran to stand in front of her; she opened his dhoti and started to suck him off. She started slowly, but Sudhip's touches had made her crave a dick urgently, so she turned a little wild and gave him a juicy suck on his cock. Nalini was washing her clothes and came to hang them near the trees behind Shyamala's room; she had a good live show of the blowjob. She had never sucked Shankaran since their marriage. While looking at Shyamala's action, her pussy turned moist, and her clit and nipples became hard.
The sun dipped, and the moon came out. Dinakaran went to the shop and bought some snacks for the evening, then returned home. Nalini and Shyamala prepared dinner. After dinner, all assembled in the moonlight-filled backyard. Devasena brought a music pad with Bluetooth speakers; she asked all of them to dance. She put on melody songs and insisted her mom and dad start. When Shyamala accepted, Banumathi asked Sudhip to join her. Devasena and Ananya pulled Sudhip to join them. They started their movements slowly. While turning around, Banumathi saw Nalini and Shankaran sitting on the bench. She called, "Nalini akka, come join us! Shankaran anna, come anna!" Sudhip volunteered and showed them how to hold each other; he took Shankaran's hand and placed it on her shoulder and waist, telling them to move as they knew—it was just for fun. Then he joined his sisters. They all now got the steps and danced. Banumathi held Sudhip tightly, dancing closely with him. Her closeness aroused him, and he could smell her body odor mixed with soap. His hands were on her shoulder and waist. While dancing, he didn't hold her waist tight; due to her velvet dress, his hands slid down to her ass often. Meanwhile, Sudhip was getting sandwiched between Ananya and Devasena. Ananya was already craving a manly touch; she stayed closer to him. Her boobs brushed against his back, her warm breath tickled his neck, arousing his dick in his shorts. Devasena in front rested her head slightly on his shoulder, her hand on his waist. The movements brought them closer, and she felt his poking dick between her thighs. She moved further in to feel his bulge more intensely, her breath quickening as she imagined what she had watched in the bathroom behind the servant quarters. Nalini and Shankaran held each other tightly and moved as they could.
After three songs, Sudhip asked Shyamala to dance with him. Banumathi moved with her father, and Ananya joined Sudhip. Sudhip and Devasena continued as they were. The song had heavy beats, and all moved a little faster since they were already in the rhythmic dancing. Sudhip moved and rolled fast with Devasena; she almost held him tightly, feeling his hot dick pressing firmly between her thighs, sending shivers up her spine. Her hands roamed lower, brushing his hips teasingly, whispering, "This feels... intense," as her body ground subtly against his, her nipples hardening against the fabric of her top with each sway. While moving around, they collided with Nalini and Shankaran. Sudhip held Nalini from falling down; Devasena almost dashed into Shankaran. Sudhip didn't stop; he took Nalini and continued his dance. Shankaran didn't say anything. Due to the partner change, Devasena pulled Shankaran and showed him how to move. Shankaran's legs trembled a little while he was in her hands. Devasena didn't hesitate; she danced with him smiling, brushing her front against him, her soft curves pressing into his chest with each beat. Shankaran got aroused and excited about his employer's daughter dancing so close, his langot straining under his dhoti as her hips swayed against his growing bulge. Devasena let her hand move between their waists and intentionally touched his crotch three to four times, pressing her soft boobies against his chest, murmuring softly, "You're a good dancer... feel the rhythm," her breath hot on his neck, her thighs grazing his as the music pulsed, building a forbidden heat between them. Meanwhile, Sudhip moved to a corner with good darkness; his hands slid down to Nalini's ass, pulling her closer, fingers digging into her soft, sweat-dampened saree-clad curves. Both of their bodies brushed, feeling the warmth of each other's arousal, Nalini's breath hitching as his erection pressed against her belly, whispering, "Sir... this is... thrilling," her pussy clenching with desire as his hands explored lower, tracing the outline of her thighs. Sudhip teased Shyamala by touching her waist and sliding to her ass. He started to press her ass cheeks firmly, grinding subtly, his hard length rubbing against her mound through their clothes. She moaned with a hiss and pressed his waist against her to feel his poking dick on her pussy mound more deeply, whispering, "You're making me so wet, my love... but careful," her hips undulating in response, the friction igniting sparks of pleasure. Banumathi, without any hesitation, danced sensually with her father, her hips swaying against him, her hands guiding his lower to cup her curves, whispering playfully, "Dad, your hands feel strong," as her ass ground back against his groin. Ananya, now with Sudhip, pressed her body flush against his, her bouncy breasts rubbing his chest as she whispered, "Dance closer... I like this," her nipples stiffening, her hand slipping to his waist to pull him tighter, feeling his arousal throb against her.
They enjoyed as much as possible and one by one retired to their rooms. Before going to the bedroom, Shyamala pushed Sudhip into the kitchen, pinned him against the wall, and pressed herself against him, wildly kissing him.
Banumathi felt thirsty and came to the kitchen for water; she witnessed her mother's wildness with Sudhip. She moved immediately from there and waited for some time. After they moved out from the kitchen, she went and drank water, then fell onto the bed
- 159
- 182
- 44
- 159
- 182
- 44
