A Thakur and His Bahu Ch. 08

"Mai bahu ko naya dafter dikha kar lata hoon!" he called out to his wife, the Thakurain. (I will show her the new office and bring her back!)

"Chalo!" he barked at the driver, before anyone had a chance to react. Pritam stared in disbelief at the car as it disappeared into the falling dusk. Lights had appeared here and there and this was no time for the old man to be insisting on going out to see some office. But Thakur was an authority unto himself. He gave orders and took none.

The driver didn't even pause to think in following his boss' orders. That was why he was the boss's driver. He never asked. Never questioned. Never let on. And never talked. He had been witness to many a clandestine operation with his boss, quite often on the other side of the law. It paid to be the boss's confidant. And complete discretion was a minimal price to pay for the power, the access and the privileges it brought him in the village.

Binita was kneeling on the seat headed towards the door when the Thakur stopped her cold. She turned back to look at him. Thakur reached under the kurta from behind her and tried to grab her right breast. Binita quickly turned around and sat down, her eyes flashing in anger at her father-in-law's audacity. With her now facing him, both his hands shot forward to grab her breasts. She slapped them away. His hands grabbed her thighs and she pushed his hands off.

Thakur grinned. The bitch wanted to play. How was he to know she had changed her mind about him? He never forced himself on any woman for he knew enough were on offer; if not one then another. This girl had given herself to him the first time. And there had been other occasions since. He pushed her back and she fell against the door, mildly banging her head against the handle. Her hand went to her head reflexively to massage the blow.

He slid his hands up her thighs and grabbed her hips and pulled her to him. Binita grunted as she made effort to clench her thighs tightly together not allowing him access and crossed her hands over her chest denying him her breasts. The only sound inside the car was of their heavy breathing and the slapping and pushing around.

He caressed her torso. Since his hands seemed busy there, she thought it safe to move one hand down from her breast and push away the hands on her torso. She blocked his access upward by holding the garment down to her torso leaving him no place to move up.

Thakur spotted her churidar (lower pant-style garment) cord and held one end of the tether and gently pulled. It came undone though Binita barely noticed it. His hand now rested on her pubis, palm open, fingers toward the stomach and base toward the groin. He rubbed her. She kicked at him, breathing heavily in tension.

Thakur was infuriated. If this was a game she had taken it too far. He didn't have much time. They had to do whatever with each other real quick and head back home. He grabbed the ankle of the leg that kicked at him and caught it. He held her apart and with his other hand plunged in between her legs. Binita twisted and turned to free herself from the grip. As it happened, the car slowed down to take a turn toward a particularly deserted stretch of road. The car was full of the panting and thrashing and flapping sounds of his and her garments.

Binita sensed the chance to exit the car. She turned around, her back to him and scrambled for the door handle, knees on the car seat. As she waddled away from him, he just held the garment from around the waist. She had no way of knowing the cord was untied and it was when she felt the cool breeze on her ass she suspected something was wrong. She turned back to look at saw her churidar had been pulled back and fallen from around her hips and now lay bunched at mid-thigh level.

She looked up at Thakur. He had a playful if devilish grin on his face. "Oh my god! He thinks it's a game!" she realised. The car gained speed and the moment of her possible escape passed. Thakur knelt up with one knee on the seat and the other on the floor of the car and reached under her kurta to her hips. Once again, he caught the nylon edge of her panty and pulled it back; it peeled off till the midsection of her hip and snagged. She raised her leg to push him, not kick, back. She merely ended up opening her legs and he caught her thigh and wouldn't let go. Her legs were now splayed open, her father-in-law was prone over her. The open angle allowed him to pull back the panties a bit more.

It was a struggle, with both panting and gasping as they fought each other. But Binita found it difficult. The strength in those arms and hands which she had admired when it held her as per her desire, were vice-like in their grip. She could not move against his will and as she felt the cool whiff of fresh air on her pussy she knew she was in trouble.

"Babuji!" she gasped. She struggled, now frantic. She managed to push his leg hard enough to make him wobble, partly helped by the lurching of the car over a bump.

Thakur fell back. She reached down with her right hand to pull up her churidar. He grabbed the left wrist and pulled her back. She fell backward. Thakur reached for her left leg and pulled her, giving momentum to her backward fall. He raised her left leg over his own body. Already, Binita's right knee was on the seat on Thakur's right. Suddenly, she was now hovering over him, her left leg trying to find something to rest on while her right knee was on the seat next to his right leg.

Unable to manage her weight, she fell back, sitting down on Thakur. His cock was under her, but he had not been holding it up to spear her. She just pushed it down the length of her pussy, her perineum and ass resting along the broad blade of his lunging cock.

She looked down and pulled up her kurta so she could see clearly. There in the dark area under them, she could see by the lights of passing streetlamps, his glistening cockhead just below her pussy. The angle was impossible; cock and cunt were parallel to each other and he could not enter her.

She smiled in triumph at having averted complete disaster. As a fall back she thought of reverting to her favorite weapon: masturbation. She reached under between her legs and found his cock. She slid the fingers of her left hand around the hot flesh. She pressed downward making space for her to fist-fuck him. With her right hand she raised herself so that her hand could move in the pistoning motion so necessary at this vital moment.

Thakur groaned at the feeling of that small hand on his cock. Not only did this girl make him grow monstrously large, but the when she held him his cock seemed larger than ever by contrast. As the object of his desire started to manipulate his cock he shifted his attention to caressing her ass, her stomach and her breasts. She had resisted him more than he had expected but it seemed it was a game.

Binita looked down in concentration at the pulsating mass in her fist. She was transfixed with the sight. She had wanted to avoid it all the time but she could not at this time understand the logic which prevented her from sinking her hot and throbbing flesh down on this blunt log of a cock. Visions of what it did to her and the pleasure it gave her ran through her spine and she shuddered.

But no! She could not allow lust to conquer her. Better she tame the man she thought as she got down to the serious task of pounding his flesh into an explosion. So it mattered little to her that he was winning small battles with rolling her panties down more, caressing her pussy and trying to unhook her bra. She was going to win the war by making him lose it outside her pussy.

No sooner had he undone her bra his hands raced to find the soft unfurling petals of nipples. His rough hands found ready engorged nubs. He held her teats between forefinger and thumb and rolled and pulled at them, like he was milking her. As slapping sounds of her fist on his balls filled he started to groan. But she too was now beginning to whimper.

"Unhhh! Nahi Babuji. Rokiye isko. Ab bas!" she begged him. (No Babuji. Stop this. Enough now.)

As she twisted and turned under his ministrations the car continued to bounce and lurch along the dusty side-road. Her right hand, on which her entire body weight rested, was aching from the load, while her left hand, continuing its frantic pumping felt the strain of the repetitive motion at her wrist.

A change of hands was needed. She also needed to caress and excite him further, and change angles a bit if she was to succeed in making him explode. She let go of the cock and leaned the other way, now trying to bring her right hand to grab the lurching and jerking beast under her to catch him. But this time she tried to catch him from behind her, rather than from front and under as she had been with her left hand.

This required her to raise her hips some more. While holding from front had involved pushing the cock down against its natural angle, holding him behind her brought his cock to a more upward pointing angle. Thakur held her by her shoulders and pulled her down. Binita tried hard to change the angle of the cock as she felt her hips falling toward the barrel of his cock. Thakur grabbed her wrist and held her steady. The head of his cock stabbed into her gaping open cunt, but would go no further as there were two fists obstructing, one his and the other hers.

He removed his hand and went up to grip her breasts and use them as handles to pull her down. She retained her fist, holding on, trying to avoid further penetration.

"Babuji, no!" she wailed. He wiggled his hips, the cock rotating just inside her lips. She humped down on him allowing his cock only that much entry, but with each rise and fall she was able to send her fist sliding up and down his cock.

"Roko! Roko! Roko! Roko! Roko!" she blabbered. (Stop!)

With each 'Stop!' she thrust down with her fist and her cunt followed, the head popping in and out of her creaming cunt.

"Aap gande hain.Aap samajh re nahi hain!" she complained. (You are very bad. You don't understand.)

"Kya nahi samajh raha mai?" he asked. (what is it that I don't understand?)

As he said this he reached under and dipped his fingers into the upper end of her cunt where there was space. Then he brought up those tainted fingers to her lips and smeared her juices on her lips and asked her "Yeh?" (This?)

She kissed his fingers sucking them into her mouth. She mimicked a fucking action, letting them slide in and out of her mouth. But with her left hand she took support from the seat in front and held herself up. This madness had to stop.

"Meri chaahat paagal hai. Lekin hum ye nahi kar sakte," she whispered, hoping the driver couldn't listen. (My desire is mad. But we cannot do this.)

She left his cock and tried to hold it from front, from between her legs. That had been the correct strategy she reflected. It took Thakur but a moment to grab his now free penis and poise it in the correct trajectory.

Call it his luck, the skill of his driver or sheer inefficiency of the PWD road department; the car jumped into a pothole on the road and the delicately balanced woman fell back.

In one brutal moment, several minutes of successful battle ended it defeat. The hot cock seared her pulsing flesh as it shot up her cunt and came to rest in her womb.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Babuji! You bastard!" she sobbed. The relief spreading through her body as the torture came to an end was most welcome. It was as if a raging fire had been quenched. But her defeat was also a reality and the anger allowed her to curse him freely.

She grabbed the door and the seat to lift herself off and twist away but all that happened was the next jolt slid her back down. She put her hands to the seat and lifted herself off, and reached into the front of the car, frantically grabbing at the dashboard and clutching the arm of the driver. But her churidar was stuck around her knees and caused her to lose balance. As she tried to lift herself off more, the cock jabbed back into her.

Much as she tried to lift off over him, gravity and the movements of the car defied her. She had struggled to keep herself off the marauding cock, but she had been stabbed, impaled, skewered and fucked several times over.

Now her next line of defense to fuck him mindless and bring this to a quick end. She rested the hand which was intended to hold his cock on her own thigh. The accumulated mess from handling him smeared on her thigh and with the support from the other hand on the seat she pumped down on him with a vengeance.

"Nahi! Nahi! Nahi! Nahi! Bilkul Nahi" she cried out, unmindful of the driver now.

(No! No! No! No! No! Absolutely not!)

Each 'no' was one lift-off punctuated by a thrust down. She was beating his cock with her cunt as a punishment for her ravishment.

"Aap ko yeh nahi karna chahye tha!" she wept as she fucked him.

The cock rode up into her and was drenched as she poured out onto him with each lifting.

His hands claimed the breasts which were his own. When she looked down she noticed that under her dress was the contour of his hands where he was mauling her tits.

"Theek hai! Lo. Jitna lena hai lo! Randi banake chodenge na mujhe! Haaaaaaaaaah! AAh. Hai. Maaa!" she ranted at him. She was angry and now the only way for her to express that was an animal mauling of the cock. She wanted to maraud, whittle it away, dissolve it so he could not plunder her ever again.

("Ok fine! Take me. Take me as much as you want. You want to make a whore of me, don't you? Oh! Mother")

Thakur was excited yet scared. It was now clear to him that he had misjudged the situation.

He glanced toward the driver. This was noisier than he had thought it would be. The woman was supposed to be an accomplice but her resistance had made it noisy. What was more, she was now wilder than he had ever seen her and the fucking was vengeful. The angles she found and the force with she fucked down on him were thrilling.

As he looked to check on the driver, he noticed the man had stolen a sideways glance at the breasts which were clearly being man handled under the kurta.

Thakur reached around and hugged his bouncing daughter-in-law to him. One hand moved up to cover her mouth and tame her screaming. Fingers from the other hand crept lower and found the clit and the slit below. He stroked her violently.

She shuddered and as she spasmed, her movements changed from a well orchestrated fucking to the wild throes of a female orgasm. She bucked and thrashed on his cock and her cunt jabbed at the embedded cock, hurting him.

"Cum, you dirty old man!" she wept, "Fill me, make me yours, flood me like only you can!"

Her pussy dissolved in a flood as she drenched him with her mighty orgasm. Binita's head flailed, her hands grabbed wildly. She beat the seat with her fists as wave after wave was pummeled out of her by the cock and the fingers. As she grabbed wildly, her hand made contact with the shoulder of the driver. Her nails dug in and the man winced in pain.

A loud guttural groan from the Thakur announced to the world that his daughter-in-law's rocking and thrusting, her entreaty to fill her had achieved its goal.

"Aaaaaaaah!" bellowed the man, as he let loose his shot of searing hot semen up into her womb.

"Ooooooooohhhhhhhhhhh! That's big!" she moaned.

With a series of "Hah"s and "Aah"s Thakur thrust up into his daughter-in-law coming in torrents.

The girl plunged down and stayed down so she could feel him spurt into her deepest being.

"Babuji! Aap kitne alag ho!" she wept. (Babuji, you are so different)

"Maine zabardasti aapko bhulaya hai, lekin aap asli mard ho," she sighed, leaning back on him, grinding his cock as the flooding slowed to a dribble. (I was hell bent on intending to forget you, but you are a real man.)

She rotated her hips, milking him, enjoying the depleting cock. Even when it lost the hard erection of a full arousal, there was enough flesh of his inside her to twist and turn on. She shuddered as she savored every little frisson of delightful pleasure.

Thakur thrust forward, wishing his cock would not lose its thickness and its hardness. Yes he wanted to spurt but the wait had been so long he wanted to fuck her more.

He hugged her as she settled back on him. Both caressed each other, touching, feeling and holding. Thakur fell asleep and Binita just sat on him luxuriating in his presence.

Suddenly, the driver honked. There was no one on the road, he was just waking up his master and alerting him to the imminent arrival at home.

Binita lifted herself off. There was a barely a jut of flesh that slipped out of her, where there had once been a marauding monster, its head in her womb. As she had lain there, the juices had flowed back out of her, onto his dhoti and the car seat. She felt the sticky residue streaked on the inside of her thighs.

She pulled up the panties, still not quite unrolled but at least somewhat pulled over her crotch. She quickly tied the cord of her churidar and tried to smooth down her kurta. Reaching under and behind she snapped her bra back on, even though the cups were not well adjusted to cover her breasts. She just wanted to be presentable on arrival at home.

She did not turn to look at Thakur. It was up to him to get his act together. She just wanted to leave the car and flee to the safety of her room in the mansion. As she got off the car seat she realised the cord around her waist was not quite tight enough. Her panties too seemed not fully up the way she liked it; covering her crotch completely and up to her navel. Everything seemed like it might fall of and uncover her shame.

None of that would have mattered if no one was in the front of the house. But on the porch was Pritam, sitting on the stairs, waiting for his wife to reappear.

Binita ignored him and made a dash for the inner reaches of the house hoping to find a sanctuary before her husband found her.