Deeksha The Temptress Ch. 01

"Did you actually hear that?" She inquired.

"They were sleeping only 5 feet away and did not seem to care once the lights were turned off."

Deeksha pushed her hand into my lungi, and fondled my erect penis. She kissed me with an open mouth and eagerly pushed her tongue into my mouth.

"Your little wenie must have been as hard as a rock," she mused.

I was surprised to hear her refer to my penis in that way, but she was talking about me as a boy as I stood there watching the scene unfold.

"Was your mother pregnant?" she inquired. "Or did you become pregnant later?"

Things were a little fuzzy, and I don't remember it well, but Deeksha's direction question made me challenge whether I was remembering it all correctly.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "He was on top of her, fucking her furiously; there was a constant sloshing sound."

None of it registered the first time I saw them, but I saw them again. Maybe it was after Murugam was born. I couldn't be sure because it was so long ago, but I know I saw them at some point, which led to my realization of her transgressions. It was on a modern bed, so it had to have happened after my father accepted his cuckold status. I recall watching her ripe, full breast, which looked ominous and milky white even in the darkness. The way she kissed the Zamindar left a lasting impression on me.

"When he died, our house was in mourning because he was our benefactor, and even though my mother never said it, she had developed feelings for him. His son paid us a late-night visit soon after his rites. We had rebuilt our house, and it was now a proper brick and mortar structure. They were in the shed when I realized there was something wrong. 'We are all in mourning, Chinnaswamy. This isn't the time,' she begged him as he grabbed her and lewdly pressed his breasts against her. It was the first time I saw my mother's sultry eyes express her readiness. He finally drew her into his embrace, and she offered him her lips, and they kissed. After a few minutes of kissing, he ordered her to kneel and give him a blowjob. It only took a few minutes for him to ejaculate in her mouth."

"As they walked out of the shed, he grabbed her hair and exclaimed lewdly, 'You are every bit the slut I heard of!' He latched onto her lips as she turned around and hugged him. 'It is not for me to determine what is right or wrong. When the only real man in the village approached me, I became his and did everything I was supposed to do. I knew you were waiting for this moment and won't waste even a moment,' she replied. They locked eyes and kissed passionately for a minute. 'How about Yedurappa?' he inquired. 'You don't have to be concerned about him; he understands his role well,' she responded calmly. In the next year, she delivered my second sister."

I had a couple of other minor episodes, but they were nothing out of the ordinary, so I didn't tell her about them. Deeksha's stroking and kissing continued languidly.

"Did it bother you?" she inquired in between kisses.

"What?" I muttered as I moaned, enjoying the pleasant sensations.

"That your mother was willing to fuck him so soon after the Zamindar died?" I didn't respond and promptly ejaculated.

"No wonder your siblings look so different from you," she said after we cleaned up.

I had taken more after my mother and had a much fairer complexion, but my other siblings were more on the dark side, although because of my mother's fair complexion, they weren't very dark but only had a dusky complexion. Deeksha didn't avoid me that day; in fact, she spoke to me at every opportunity and elicited more information from me. It didn't take long for her to realize that I was both sexually attracted to and terrified of my mother, who was a real taskmaster. Deeksha had met her occasionally, so she knew my apprehension wasn't unfounded.

"I used to think about how strange it must have felt for your father to mount your mother. She is such a healthy woman, towering over him, and he is such a skinny skeleton," she remarked in between.

"It appeared Zamindar had lost his edge," she continued. "That's why your older and younger sisters are four years apart in age."

It was incredible to hear it from Deeksha, who had paid close attention to everything I told her and was connecting the dots. The Zamindar fathered three children in four years, then took a four-year break. His son, despite being much younger and more energetic, did not fare as well because of my mother's reluctance. She reluctantly let him impregnate her with the youngest one.

Murugam, my first brother, was perhaps the best version of the Zamindar. He was the darkest of my siblings, and he resembled him more than the others. Because they were fathered by Zamindar's son, who had a much lighter complexion, the youngest two sisters and son were the most attractive. Deeksha also informed me of her alleged experiments with other men. She had sex with a couple of neighborhood kids, but it was mostly heavy petting. Her neighbor's young child, a few years her junior, spotted her and blackmailed her. In retrospect, it should have been the other way around. She simply wanted to play with him and felt safe doing so. She either misinterpreted the situation or made up the blackmailing story. Things did not escalate as quickly as I had expected. It was primarily because the boy was awkward and shy, and he avoided social situations. He was terrified of his domineering father, who was a constant bully, and this made him afraid of doing anything out of the ordinary.

His name was Bala. His father, Prabhakaran, was a local activist and had considerable influence in their area. They weren't Brahmins and despised Brahmins. In fact, he was a part of the outcry against Brahmins that caused them to flee the city and move to neighboring states. Bala was Deeksha's age, but not as bright, and he didn't have the guts to do anything. He had dark skin, was chubby, and was a little shorter than both of us. Prabhakaran, his father, was much taller and darker-skinned than Deeksha. He reminded me of our Zamindar in some ways, but with a much lighter complexion, and I didn't think he had the same aura.

When she told me about Bala, my first thought was, "Oh, Bala. Really? He is only a kid."

"Actually, he is," Deeksha countered, "but trust me, he has a nice, thick one; much larger than yours."

Deeksha had a habit of blurting out such things without thinking about how they might be perceived. Still, she hardly ever did anything wrong, and it was all done in a friendly spirit because she didn't have malicious intent. Bala was the same height as me, but he was probably a couple of years younger than Deeksha, so it felt humiliating, whether or not she meant it. Still, hearing it from her mouth felt humiliating. He had just turned 18. How could he be much bigger than a 25-year-old man? But then I knew penis sizes were a function of one's genes.

"It's not right; you're going to get him in a lot of trouble. His father despises Brahmins," I said, dismissing her remark.

"That's why I'm not afraid of him testing my boundaries," she added.

I'm not sure what possessed me, but I felt compelled to explain what I admired about the Zamindar in particular. Instead of responding to her remark, I thought I'd explain what "manly" means to me.

"Our Zamindar was a massive man. He stood 6' 3" tall, had broad shoulders, a strong build, and a dark complexion.

"Even you would look small in front of him," I explained. It was always a man of our Zamindar stature wooing Deeksha in my mind. In fact, if he were still alive, I would have loved to see Deeksha entertain him. He was a special man, and I believe Deeksha's beauty would have stirred his loins regardless of his age, even though he would have been far past his prime to be of any service.

"Really? How old would he be now?"

"He might have been 71 years old. He died at 60, shortly after the birth of my first sister."

"Perhaps you'd want to see me with him if he was still alive?" she speculated.

I averted my gaze and declined to respond, but Deeksha could tell that the thought piqued my interest.

She stroked my tummy and whispered, "It's okay. I will not pass judgment on you."

"And have him impregnate you," I said quietly after a moment's hesitation.

"Would a 70-year-old man even be able to get it up?" she retorted.

"You don't get it," I retorted. "The only time I saw him, I clearly saw my mother's large breasts, which he was fondling while she passionately kissed him. I could see her inviting him to mount her when she finally laid back and turned off the lantern. The man piled on top of her, and I couldn't imagine how she could bear the weight of such a massive man. She switched off the lantern, and a steady rhythm of creaking followed, interspersed with her listless moans and whimpers. The guy fucked her for 15 minutes straight before ejaculating inside her. I was only ten years old, so I didn't understand everything, but I realized the gravity of the situation."

Deeksha was worked up, but we didn't have privacy, so we couldn't chat further. She had to leave that afternoon for one of her relatives' homes for a few days, and I missed her late-night visits. It was difficult for me to sleep alone while suffering from a stiff hard-on, but I tried to focus on my studies. IAS entrance exams were about 8 months away, and I had been studying for them for years. She returned after almost a week, but her house was full of guests, so we couldn't see each other. I would still get up early in the morning and shower. If she showed up, I'd be ready for her; if she didn't, I'd probably spend some time studying. She didn't show up even after her guests had left, and I almost thought she had put a stop to our transgressions. After two weeks of agonizing waiting, she appeared, climbed into bed, and began kissing me.

"You're so fresh," she muttered as she kissed me passionately. She didn't bother to change her clothes, and although her breath was a little stale, I was getting used to it. As she passionately exchanged saliva with me, she was hot and felt my hard pecker. After a few minutes of kissing, she nibbled my ear and whispered, "So, how many times did the Zamindar mount me in your fantasies while I was gone?"

"Were you thinking of it?" I inquired.

"Do you find that odd?" she inquired. "Every night, I was fingering myself. I could never have imagined what you told me in my wildest dreams."

"Seriously?"

"Tell me honestly," she rubbed my lips with her thumb. "You really wanted the Zamindar to take your wife, right?"

In response, I sucked her thumb, and she knew what I meant.

"You know, I fantasized about leading your mother's life," she exclaimed.

"Really?"

"I wish I could have been in her shoes, and maybe you would have had a couple more siblings," she added.

I was taken aback. She recognized my expression and asked, "You don't believe me?"

"That's not it," I clarified. "Fantasy is one thing, but living the life she lived is not for you."

"Why?" She put me on the spot. "Wasn't she a Brahmin? It had to be just as difficult for her as it is for me."

"However, you've seen my father," I countered.

She gave me a puzzled look. "I'll tell you what? Even now, I'd like to be his second wife and have that intense sexual life."

I was still stunned, but Deeksha never made up stories or told lies. I could tell she meant it. She got up and sat on my chest.

"As your stepmother, I would have given you a lot of sloppy kisses and jerked you off regularly," she said as she offered her pussy to lick.

I went through the motions. Deeksha was aggressive this time, gripping my hair and pressing her pussy against my lips. She let me go and crashed next to me after twenty minutes of nonstop licking and two intense orgasms of hers. She soon began stroking me and exchanging saliva with me. I sputtered my sperm in less than a minute. It didn't surprise her because she knew exactly what she was doing.

This was the beginning of our journey. She came almost every night at first, but after about a month, her visits settled into a predictable pattern of two nights per week. She was careful not to be too predictable and always surprised me. After a few months of her visits, I mustered the courage to discuss our perversions. Some days, she was especially raunchy and would let me get on top of her and dry hump her.

"Do you get excited about having sex with the Zamindar, Deeksha?" I inquired as I humped her leisurely.

"Not really," she said flatly.

It perplexed me. She looked up from our stale kisses and asked, "Does that surprise you?"

"Who gets excited at the thought of having sex with a 70-year-old man? They pee more than they fart. Their equipment is reduced to the status of a waste disposal unit."

"But your mother's story definitely shook me up. If we were both a little older, I could easily imagine the Zamindar's son impregnating both your mother and your wife simultaneously," she added.

"How about that fantasy of you marrying my father?" I inquired.

"Oh..." she seethed. "If I had been in your mother's shoes, you would undoubtedly have a couple more siblings."

My youngest brother was five years old, and Deeksha was sixteen years his senior. Although underage marriage was illegal, it was very common. So what she implied was entirely plausible. Although such perverted thoughts would be difficult to discuss and agree on at such a young age, we were talking like adults, and both of us believed we had enough sense to understand the implications of what we were discussing.

"Would you want that?" I inquired.

"I wouldn't have had much of a choice," she explained. "Exactly like your mother. Your father, with his small stature and submissive demeanor, would have paved the way. I would have succumbed to Zamindar's aura much sooner than your mother."

"You know I am much more submissive and much prettier than your mother," she explained.

Deeksha was worked up and was passionately making out with me. Her stale breath hit me even harder, and I realized I'd become her cuckold. I couldn't eat her since she was having her periods, and hence we were dry humping. I slobbered all over her mouth while she ground her pelvis against mine.

"You are not submissive," I retorted between thrusts, breathlessly.

"You don't get it, Adwait," she said. "In the first five years, I would have delivered four children to the Zamindar and perhaps another five to Chinnaswamy. There would have been times when both the father and son would have regularly seeded me."

I couldn't take it anymore and spilt my semen. She was disappointed and disapproved of my action as I soiled her dress.

"It seems like you get off on these fantasies pretty quickly," she casually remarked as she cleaned her dress. "You cum too much," she threw her kerchief at me. "It's a shame to see it all go to waste."

"You're the one who has those crazy fantasies," I retorted as I swept my bed.

She suspected her mother was looking for her, so she dashed out the door. Because my exams were approaching, I concentrated on my studies and avoided contact with her for the next few days. I ran into her at one of the local celebrations, and she joked, "How are you, son? You live in the same neighborhood and never visit your stepmother?"

She knew I had a thing for that fantasy, and it gave her a bigger kick than just picturing me as her cuckold. My father was just shy of 60 years old, the same age as when the Zamindar took my mother. Even though it made little sense, my subconscious mind still tallied the things to evaluate their feasibility.

"How come you aren't coming to see me?" I inquired, oblivious to her antics.

"Aren't your exams coming up? Adwait, focus on your exams if you are serious about marrying me," she said after a while, as we were in a crowded place. "Otherwise, we have no future."

Deeksha sent me a timely reminder because I had forgotten the art of studying, and I quickly resolved to study and toiled away for the next three months studying for the exams. I didn't expect Deeksha to show up, but I went through the same motions. After a few weeks, she began arriving late in the morning with some snacks and coffee for me. She'd play with me because there was no way I could try anything with her. She'd stroke my tummy and let me inhale her fresh scent and hot breath. Deeksha kept suggesting of becoming my stepmother and jerking me off as a consolation prize.

My exams eventually went well. I performed much better in the exams because of my focus and, of course, Deeksha's encouragement. Deeksha took good care of me during the last few critical days by providing good food and nudges to focus and not waste time. Her father and mother both wished me luck in my exams and expressed their support for me. Perhaps they saw the sincerity that was sorely lacking in many young people. Many people were convinced that I would perform admirably in the exams. I was relieved that I had given it my all during the exams.

Deeksha and I went to an ice cream party one of those evenings. She loved ice cream, and we would frequently go to our favorite shop and gorge ourselves on a few scoops. That evening was special because I could finally breathe a sigh of relief. It had been a herculean effort, and all I wanted to do was sit back and relax, but Deeksha was just getting started. I gave her a disapproving look as she licked the cone of ice cream.

"How big was Chinnaswamy's?" she inquired. She waved her hand, implying it was as thick as ice cream. It was one of her favorite large cone ice creams, clearly much larger than a human penis, but she was well aware of it.

"Did she really swallow his cream?" she asked, knowing full well I was usually reticent and needed a lot of time to warm up before discussing such sensitive subjects.

"I told you already," I replied dryly. I started walking back because I didn't want to risk discussing such sensitive topics with the people around us. We had a small, secluded path through the woods that led us to our house quickly. I frequently took that path but avoided it in the evening, but Deeksha suggested we take it, and I agreed against my better judgment.

As we entered the dark wooded area, she clung to me and began whispering. Her hand groped and fondled my penis all the time. It was strange, because I felt awkward touching her in such public places, but Deeksha had no reservations. During this, she drew me to the side, pushed me against a large tree, and latched onto my lips. She groped my penis viciously and kissed me voraciously. She had an animalistic hunger in her, and while I desperately wanted to kiss her, I was afraid of being caught in the act by some passersby. I tried to calm her down, but she was in no mood to listen. Our kisses lasted about five minutes. She unbuckled my trousers and grabbed my stiff penis, stroking it.

"Adwait you are a bullock," she said quietly as I spewed her sperm into her hand.

She kissed me and licked some of it, offering the taste of my sperm. We rushed out of that wooded area, I was disheveled and tidied up.

"How come you called me a bull?" I inquired.

"No, stupid," she laughed. "I called you a bullock."

"Isn't it the same thing?"

"A bull is uncastrated, whereas a bullock is," she clarified. "Bulls that are no longer suitable for breeding are castrated and used as domestic helpers."

Deeksha comparing me to a castrated bull made me feel humiliated. As we got closer to our house, she shoved me into a dark corner and kissed me again. She groped my penis, which had inflated again although I had only ejaculated a few minutes before.

"Adwait, any other man in that situation would have raped me," she said. "That's why I referred to you as a bullock. You know it's some men's fate to watch other bulls mate with their women."