A Thakur and His Bahu Ch. 12

"Feel that?" she asked.

"Mmph," he affirmed.

"Remember that, ok?" she panted. "Now GO at it," she emphasized the go. Pritam lashed at her with the tongue tip.

"Yes!" she hissed.

"Alternate," she instructed him. He stopped. She thrust her hips frantically searching for the obliging tongue.

"Between the tip and the licks," she said quickly so that he could recommence to satisfy her needs.

"This will bring her to a finish if you do it long enough," she stammered as the tongue found its mark.

"Oh, yes! Yes! Yes! Yah!" she groaned as her orgasm rose rapidly. "Ram your fingers into her at this point," she pleaded. "She doesn't know if she wants the vacuum filled or the clit hammered" she wailed.

"She or you?" gasped Pritam.

"She! She! Sheee!" sobbed Sheila as Pritam's fingers slid into the gaping cunt unobstructed even for a bit.

Her hips violently bucked and thrashed as her orgasm rippled through her. She held his head hard and in place to ensure she didn't miss one single tongue stroke.

Pritam, the eager student, mechanically and faithfully continued his ministrations. His limited knowledge helped him finish her to perfection.

Sheila squirted, drenching a surprised, shocked Pritam, his nostrils filled with her fluids and he opened his mouth for a large inhalation, nearly choking on her juices. And having filled his lungs plunged back to the still squirting, squelching, throbbing and thrashing Sheila.

"Yes Pritam! Yes! This is what Binita wants!" she sobbed.

"You, you, you!" sputtered Pritam into her bubbling cunt as he completed his assigned task.

When he rose from the depths of her pussy, she was radiant in her complete release.

"That," she panted, "Is how a woman completes! Have you ever seen Binita like this?"

Pritam shook his head, her cum and juices staining his chin and lips. "No" he gasped.

"Do it to her like this," she said triumphantly.

"And don't you want to check how a man finishes? Whether I do that right?" asked Pritam, unbuckling his trousers.

Sheila staggered to get up. "Beta, I don't think we can do that!" she stammered, well in control of her senses post-orgasm.

"Why not?" it was a rhetorical question from Pritam.

His cock lunged free as he moved forward over her. He reached for the bow lace at her neck. Those breasts would now be his. As he tugged he was delightfully surprised at what happened next.

The two panels of the blouse moved apart to their natural position with the swell of her breasts. He could see the mounds of flesh, bare -- no bra, as he had guessed. On one side her nipple, standing erect was visible. The other panel covered the nipple of the breast. He moved apart the panels and hands trembling, claimed his prize.

"No!" gasped Sheila, her hands on his arms. Pritam was now over her and his cock waved between her legs.

"Son, this is wrong!" she pleaded.

Pritam did not answer except to knead those magnificent breasts as he knew to, and moved closer. His cock slid into the cunt, lubricated by the mess between her legs.

"Pritam!" she gasped, "Not like this!"

He stiffened. Maybe she really wanted to stop him? He wanted her- but she was his Sheila aunty. Crazed as he was, she was the woman he obeyed instinctively. If she let him, he would fuck her. And how!

But if she didn't, he wouldn't. And that would not surprise him.

"Dry her before you fuck her," instructed Sheila. She was not stopping him, to his surprise. She was teaching him how. She grabbed her petticoat and stuffed it up her pussy making it as dry as she could. Then she wiped his cock with it.

"Now, now," she invited, wiggling her hips and pulling him to herself. "Fuck her!" she commanded. She sighed with contentment as she felt his cock prise apart her lips only to be absorbed by the bubbling pit within. She squeezed her hips together, feeling the circumference.

The instructor in her took note of the fact that in the wetness, Pritam's cock was lost. And she contrasted that with the fullness of Thakur, wet or not.

"Move your legs apart," she ordered, the pulse in her neck quickening as she felt tremors building.

He balanced himself atop her, spreading his legs.

She moved her legs closer and felt her self closing around the slender but hard cock. This was better.

"This is how she wants to be fucked," hissed Sheila. She humped his cock wildly. Pritam hung on for dear life. His cock was mauled and milked by the expert fucking from Sheila aunty.

"Aunty!" he groaned as he spilt into her. Sheila moved her legs behind him and pummeled his ass making him quiver his entire release into her pussy.

"Oh yes, my baby! Fill me! Fuck me! Love me!" she wept. "This, this is what she wants!"

Sheila loved Pritam and the sexual intimacy was deeply, deeply satisfying. She took him as her own, she filled herself with him. She milked him. She dried him out. And as he felt her do all those to him, Pritam fixed his mouth on her breast and sucked and dug his teeth into them. He had wanted them all evening and between kneading and sucking he satisfied his thirst.

And he filled her thirst for him; a thirst which she did not know had existed.

The frantic movements ceased. The woman he treated as his mother lay beneath him, open, mauled and plundered.

The thrusting ceased as he had no more seed to spill. The boy she treated as her son lay slumped on top, spent.

They held each other close, savoring the intimacy which only a complete sexual release brings.

She patted his arm. "That, is what she wants" whispered Sheila.

Pritam, sweaty from the exertion, nodded. He had never licked and tongued Binita like that.

But Sheila knew there was more to handle. She had taught him how to suck Binita. But she had also experienced the fuck. And the contrast between Thakur and Pritam was clear to her, even in one encounter. Binita must feel the difference every time both men touched her. The son was a shadow of the father. And the father, old or not, was a bull of a man.

She had tried to teach Pritam the technique of straddling his wife. But she was unsure if he could make that work.

As she laced up her blouse and smoothed down her saree and petticoat, she wondered if she needed a chat with Binita.

"Don't come down with me," muttered Sheila aunty as she left. The contrast between what she was, what she had done and her own conclusions about Thakur and her son had started more problems.

There was more to come; she knew it.