This story takes place towards the end of my high school. I was over eighteen and ripe with energy that I didn’t know where it came from; energy that kept me restless and got me into trouble more than once. There were five members in our household: my uncle, his wife, my grandmother, my younger aunt, and myself. My younger aunt was the smallest of my mother’s siblings and was still waiting to be married. But this story is not about her; it is about my uncle’s wife. My uncle’s wife didn’t really like my presence in what would technically be considered her house. I was entrusted into my uncle’s guardianship due to circumstances beyond my control and she had no choice but to accept my presence, but it was very clear from the beginning that she did so reluctantly. Our interaction, most of the time, was as minimal as possible. My room was a bit isolated from the rest of the house because of its purpose as a guest room. My daily routine was set so that after coming home from school, I would eat my lunch and disappear from the rest of the family until it was dinner time. After that I would disappear until the next. My family members only interacted with me if there was something I needed to help with but usually I kept to me and them to themselves.
The first incident that brought about a minor change was on a rather hot day when my uncle’s wife her name is Vidhya came to my room and asked me to hook her bra in the back. She was fresh out of bath, probably to stay cool, and I assumed my younger aunt or my grandmother was not around, so she had come to me for help. It is not uncommon for ladies to ask some male child in the house to do this kind of thing when there are no females available. Only the children are supposed to be a lot younger than I was because of modesty. It is very uncommon to ask a sexually mature boy to do it because of the feelings it can arouse. To top it all, it was the aunt that really didn’t like me, so I had to assume she had no other choice. She was holding her shirt in front to cover herself and she had moved her wet and dripping hair around her neck to the front as well. Her back was bare for me to see. I had helped my younger aunt many times with the same, so the routine was nothing new to me. I averted my eyes as much as possible and quickly managed to hook her bra. She flicked her hair back onto her back and started to put her shirt on. Once it was on her, she pulled her hair out and straightened them and uttered a quick thank you and left without looking at me.
My uncle’s wife is not as slim as my younger aunt is because of being married and all. She is wider in her back and has a few bulges around where the nala of her shalwar is tied. Her back is also meatier, so when my fingers rubbed on her back, it felt nicer than it had been with my other aunt. When I went back to my books after she had left, her shiny, brown skin stayed as background effect on the pages. The incident faded from memory soon. It was about a week or so later when she came to my room again and asked me to hook her bra. This time she was not straight out of the bath; instead she was coming from her room where it seemed she was getting ready to go somewhere. She was wearing new, ironed clothes and was smelling of nice perfume, which she usually only does when she and my uncle go visit somebody in another village. It was Sunday, so that made sense because my uncle was home and must have planned a small trip. I was surprised a bit when I realized that if my uncle was home, then why did she come to me to hook her bra? He could have done it for her. I assumed that my younger aunt and my grandmother were not available yet once again; that’s why she came to me. Probably my uncle had stepped out or something.
This time she wore a bright colored bra. The reddish color of the material actually overpowered the brownish color of her skin and it was the color of her bra that stayed in my mind, instead of the color of her skin. My fingers retained the nice warmth of her skin a while longer as well. Still everything was on the up and up. I didn’t make anything out of it, although I did feel a bit uncomfortable having to do something at my age which usually women ask children much younger than me to do. She was my aunt though and it was perfectly okay for her to come to me, as I was her nephew, which was almost the same as being her son. One morning, as I was about to leave for school, she asked me to come with her before going out. My uncle had already gone and my younger aunt and my grandmother were busy somewhere around or out of the house. I followed her to her room. As I waited for her to tell me what she wanted me to do, she crossed her hands in front of her, grabbed her shirt from the sides and started to lift it up and off of her. Her back was towards me, so I couldn’t really see anything that I hadn’t seen before. She didn’t have a bra on as I was able to see her entire back without being distracted by the strap.
She bent over a little and picked up a bra from her bed and started to wrap it around her breasts. It was during that bending and extending her hands outward to put her bra on that I saw the sides of her breasts clearly. She held the two straps on her back and asked me to hook her up. I moved close to her quickly and did as I was told. She picked her shirt up, put her hands through the bottom and slid it over her head and onto her body. She turned around as she was still fixing it and smiled. She thanked me for the help and I took my leave to go to school. All day I kept seeing the sides of her breasts in my mind and kept thinking about the way she had fixed her shirt around her breasts after she thanked me. Even her smile seemed special in the afterglow of her breasts shining from her sides. I had finally seen a glimpse of a small part of a woman’s breasts. It was special. I did wonder why she didn’t ask any other member of the family to hook her up, specially my uncle because she must have put her shirt on in his presence. Then I thought that may be she just forgot and when she did remember, I was the only one around.
I knew it was a rare occurrence to see that much of her because chances of that happening again were very little. My younger aunt or someone else would normally be around to take care of the situation. It came as a big surprise when a few days later she asked me again to help her before going to school. As before, she removed her shirt and looked for her bra to put on. It wasn’t on the bed. She looked around to see where it was and found it sitting on her dresser. She had to turn left to go there and that meant that she had to expose her naked front to me. She put her hands on her breasts, sort of cupped them, and went to the dresser. I tried to look down to avoid seeing anything, but not before I got an eyeful. I saw her front; except the parts that were covered by her hands. I was embarrassed by the situation and felt a little flustered, but it was exciting as well. I actually felt a little warm. She went to the dresser and put the bra on her breasts while my eyes stayed glued to the floor. She called me once she had put it on and held it in position. I moved behind her to do the hooking. Only she was standing in front of a mirror and I could see both sides of her; her back directly and her front through the reflection in the mirror. Tried as I might but I couldn’t help looking into the mirror. She was looking directly at me and our eyes met.
I felt embarrassed by being so “caught” by her, but I had no choice. I saw her cleavage, her belly, her belly button, and the part below her navel. A sudden rush in my blood flow made my vision go blurry but I recovered quickly. I hooked her bra and left without saying anything. I didn’t even give her a chance to say thank you this time. I was feeling ashamed of having seen my aunt so without clothes. I don’t know what made me stop and look back as I stepped out of the door. She was facing me and was watching me leave. Our eyes met again, this time directly, without the benefit of a reflection. She seemed lost somewhere and gave me a slight smile but didn’t say anything. I rushed out of there as fast as I could. Her cleavage, her belly, and the area below her navel stayed in my mind all through the day, as did the embarrassment. When I came home that afternoon, I didn’t have the courage to even go eat my lunch. I was afraid of coming face to face with her. I didn’t know if she was upset at my boldness of looking at her directly that morning. I was very hungry though and I couldn’t even think, let alone do my homework, because my brain needed some nourishment. I was startled when she came to my room with my food. I was grateful for her thoughtfulness and I even managed to come out and eat where we normally eat our food.
She let a few days pass before she asked me to hook her bra up again. This time she didn’t need to go to the dresser so everything was standard. Except when I finished hooking her up, she didn’t put her shirt on. She actually turned around to face me in just her bra. Her shirt stayed on the bed. She smiled and thanked me and asked me if it was becoming too much for me to do this small thing for her. My eyes were focused on her chest. I tried, but failed, to reciprocate her smile. I was too nervous to speak or to do anything else. I just shook my head and took my leave. Obviously she was becoming more and more comfortable with me; that is why she no longer cared about putting her shirt on right away. She felt okay in letting me see her only in her bra. Only that made me very uncomfortable. I didn’t want to see her only in her bra. She looked good that way and I didn’t want to feel about her the way I ended up feeling. I actually enjoyed seeing her that naked. My breathing became uneven. I even felt movement in my lower regions and I knew that wasn’t good or even allowed. But there was no way for me to tell her to stop doing that. I couldn’t come out and say to her that she should cover herself up because I was starting to get excited by her. I didn’t know why she didn’t realize for herself that it wasn’t appropriate for her to show that much of herself to me. I just figured that our relationship was secure enough that she didn’t need to worry about me getting excited. I actually felt guilty for having such feelings after seeing her. It became a routine for me to every morning help her with her bra. She would go to her room. Take her shirt off while facing away from me and towards her bed. The bra was always on her bed, which she would put on her breasts and extend the straps to back where I would reach over and hook it up. Simple and quick, but always significant.
One day she went to her room and took her shirt off as usual. I realized very quickly that something was different when I found myself looking at her reflection in the mirror. Her breasts were completely visible to my eyes, which popped out of their sockets at that incredible sight. It turned out that she had left her bra on her dresser and out of habit she took her shirt off in front of the mirror where I could see her topless. She realized her mistake quickly and covered her breasts with her hands while screaming slightly, “Hai maan!” oh mother! As her eyes looked into my face and found me so flabbergasted, she said, “Turn around quickly, I don’t want you to see me like this.” I mechanically turned while trying to memorize that view and imprint it on my brain. I didn’t want to forget it. That was my first time seeing a woman’s breasts so completely and so closely. They were even better than I had ever imagined them to be. My aunt’s breasts were big and round and supple and beautiful. Her nipples were big and strong and pointy. Her flesh looked delicious. Try as I might not to, I became erect nonetheless. When she called me back towards her again, I found her red and flushed. I was flushed myself. When our eyes met through the mirror, we looked away from each other quickly. They met a few times though. She really looked embarrassed, as did I. But nothing was said other than the looks of embarrassment. As I was leaving, she said, “You won’t tell anyone about what happened, would you?”
Her question caught me by surprise. “Who am I going to tell?”
I looked at her to see if she would say more, but she didn’t and after a brief pause, I just left. My eyes kept seeing those breasts all day long. She came to my room after lunch. It took her a while before she spoke. She said, “I feel so ashamed for what happened this morning?”
I thought about an answer for a few moments; then replied softly, “There is nothing to be ashamed of. It was an accident.”
“Yes, it was.” She smiled weakly. “I promise it won’t happen again.”
That would be a pity, I thought to myself. I would have liked to see those breasts again. I said nothing though. It seemed like she waited expectedly to hear something from me. When nothing came, she said, “You didn’t feel too uncomfortable, I hope.”
“I did, at first, but when I realized that it was a fluke thing, I got over it.”
“Well, I am sorry about that.”
Again I said nothing and she left after waiting for a while for me to say something. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say, so I had stayed quiet. Things were a bit tense and quiet the next time we performed our routine. I felt bad because I think she felt bad but there was nothing I could say or do to make her feel better. I wanted to make her feel better though because I think she was making a big deal out of an accident. But how, that was the question. Then it came to me. So far we had done what we were doing, that is hooking her up, in absolute silence. There was never any conversation between us other than thank you from her. I usually followed her and did what I was supposed to do and then left without saying anything. I knew that I had to break the silence or she may stop asking me for help. The subject came without much searching. Next time I was hooking her up, I made a remark as casually as possible, “Auntie, you seem to prefer red a lot?”
That was the first time I acknowledged the fact that I had paid attention to what I was doing. She replied, “I don’t know why, but I like red. It makes me feel different.”
We actually had a conversation about her underwear. I wanted to know if she had matching panties on, but I didn’t express my thoughts. I think she was relieved at my breaking the silence, so she asked me quickly, fearing that the silence may creep back in, and “What color do you think I should try?”
“I don’t know. I hear a lot of good things about black.”
From silence to saying mouthful, we had made a huge progress. Later on, as I reflected on our conversation, I couldn’t believe I had suggested that my aunt should wear black underwear. It was a bit intimate for us to discuss something as personal as undergarments, panties and bras to be specific, but we had done it. I guess after dealing with her bra for so long, it was only a slight jump to discussing it. In our culture though, that was a big jump. Next day, sure enough, her bra was black. The fact that she had worn it after my suggestion, when in the past her bras were normally red or white, was a significant thing and I had to say something.
“I see you are wearing black today.” Was all I could come up with?
“Well, you suggested it. So, how does it look?” She asked boldly as she gave me a view of both front and back.
“It looks better than red.” Was all I could come up with, again? She smiled and I felt that a huge wall had been lifted from between us. A wall that not only consisted of the silence and formality that we usually had, but of something else as well, of another barrier. As I was leaving, she said, “I know I am going to feel very embarrassed and even ashamed later, but look.”
I turned to look and she had pulled her shalwar down a little to expose her panty. It was a matching panty. I just laughed. She laughed with me.
I tell you, I felt hard all day long. There was an erection between my legs that just wouldn’t go away. I kept thinking of my aunt, of her bra, of her panties, even of her naked breasts as I had the privilege of seeing them once, even though accidentally. I felt special because she took my advice and choose a color that I had suggested. I imagined her thinking of me when she bought those and that made me feel excited. My aunt was thinking of me when she was buying her underwear. Imagine that, my aunt buying underwear because of me, dare I say, for me. She came to my room that afternoon. There was nothing she talked about, only fiddled with my books a little. Then she left quickly. I understood that her presence was the result of that special intimacy that we had shared. She just wanted to be around me, as I wanted her to be around. I felt good. Next morning, I asked her, “So, what did uncle say about your new color?” There was a faint but naughty smile on my lips. She beamed when she answered, “Oh, I didn’t show it to him.” There was more she almost blurted out but she stopped herself there. Deep down, I felt the power. She didn’t want to show to my uncle what was between the two of us. I realized the special bond that had been created between us. That bond only became clearer when she came to my room the next afternoon as well. We had become friends, I felt. Having a female friend felt different, in a good sort of way.
A few days later, she told me, “I have a surprise for you.”
When I went to her room and finished hooking her up, she turned around and put her hands on her hips. “What do you think?” she asked. I looked at her with amazement on my face. She was wearing a black lace bra. I could see her nipples through the lace, even though they were barely visible because the color of her nipples was dark enough to blend in with the lace. I was speechless. She smiled almost victoriously. She said, “I guess the look on your face says everything.”
I stuttered, “Sorry, I don’t know what to say. It looks great.”
The next day, she showed me a red lace bra. It was equally revealing, but still the color of her nipples sort of blended with the dark red color. Same look on my face, that must have become a familiar thing for her, and same victorious smile. I think she was enjoying herself; or rather she was enjoying the teasing she was doing with me. Then came a white lace bra. Her nipples were very visible that day. Even the rest of her breast was showing through the white lace. The contrast was so strong that I could make out all the details of her breast through that and she was proudly displaying them for me. She must have seen that look of arousal on my face. “So, how do I look?”
Her question was a bit more direct. “You look great?” I replied.
“It’s not too much, is it? I feel I am showing too much.”
“Well, yes, you are. But, this is only for you, so it doesn’t matter. No one is going to see anything.” I was finally able to get a hold of myself.
“Thanks suni. But are you okay with it? I mean, you also get to see it besides me.”
“Yes, I am okay. How does uncle feel about it?” I don’t know why I said that but the thought was in my mind.
“I have a secret for you. I don’t show this even to your uncle.”
“Why not?” I said without thinking.
“This is our secret, that’s why.” She said a lot in that statement but I didn’t feel the weight of it until much later.
That afternoon, she came to my room. She seemed a bit down and rather subdued. I asked her, “Are you okay? You don’t look okay.”
She replied, “I have a slight headache.”
“Why? What gave you that headache?”
“Thinking too hard, I guess. I’ve been worried all day about your reaction to my being so daring.”
“Actually, I didn’t think much about it. We have become comfortable enough with each other that it didn’t seem out of place.” “It didn’t.” She was serious.
“Not at all.” I looked into her eyes to convince her of my sincerity.
“Well, I am relieved.” She did not seem relieved. Next morning, she was again wearing that white, lace bra. When I finished hooking it up, she turned to face me and asked, once again, “Are you sure, you are okay with it?” She was very serious, and I couldn’t understand why.
“Yes, I am.” I said forcefully. “Don’t worry.”
“I won’t.” She whispered.
As I was about to exit the door, she called me, “suni!”
I turned to see what she wanted. When I looked at her, I couldn’t believe my eyes. She was standing in front of me without her bra. Her breasts were fully exposed for me to see. I stood there with my mouth agape. She asked, “How about now? Are you okay with this as well?”
A thousand and one emotions went through my system in milliseconds. My dick went from 0 to 90 degrees in a snap. She must have heard that snap as it hit the cloth and stretched it out. My aunt was standing topless in front of me, asking me if I was okay with her being that way. Her eyes were glazed and her face taut. She seemed in a daze. I did the only thing that came to my mind. Actually at that time, my mind had no ability left to think, so I moved with instinct. I went up to her and looked at her breasts closely. I could see the blue veins running though her flesh, the erect nipples, and the goose bumps around her areola. She was trembling. I gazed at them for a while and then slowly reached with my arms and placed my hands gently on each of her breasts. She gave a muffled sob as my hands cupped her breast and pressed on them gently. I looked into her face. Her eyes were closed. I waited for her to look at me. After a few moments, she looked at me. I looked into her eyes and with trembling lips whispered, “Yeah, I am okay with it.”
I had to leave at that moment because I didn’t know what to do next, and I am sure neither did she. The softness and the warmth of her breasts stayed on my hands all through the day. I didn’t even attend many of my classes. I sat under a tree, hidden from view of most of my school fellows, and came home rather early. I went straight to my room and collapsed on my bed. She slunk into my room. I didn’t get up. She came and stood next to the bed. She had covered her chest with a dupatta. I just looked at her as she looked at me. She slowly removed the dupatta from her chest and said to me, almost in a whisper, “I spent my entire day like this.” I could see the shape of her breasts through the thin material. Her nipples were erect and poking through.
“Why?” I asked with a similar whisper.
“Because you didn’t hook me up before you left.” She said seriously as she waived her bra in front of me.
I laughed hard when I realized that she had spent the whole day without her bra. She put her finger on her lips to shush me. I asked, “Why didn’t you ask someone to help you?”
“Only you are supposed to hook me up.” She said in a way that I almost felt like kissing her. She removed her shirt and showed her breast to me again. I jumped up from my bed and cupped them quickly. There was more vigor in my touches. I was being rough with her. She just sobbed while I touched, caressed, squeezed, and hurt her breasts.
When she realized that I wasn’t going to stop, she pulled herself a little away and said, “Quick before somebody finds out that I am here.” Then she put the bra on her breasts and turned her back to me so I could hook her up. After hooking her up, I reached around and placed my hands on her breasts again. She had to force my hands away so she could put her shirt back on. I continued caressing her breasts even after that and she actually had to hold my hands to stop me so she could leave. I was out of control, to say the least. I was feeling very erratic. My blood was rushing through my body so fast that I felt dizzy. My brain couldn’t keep up with my emotions. I spent the whole weekend on hot coals, but the fire burnt through my passion so much that by the time we met again, I was calm and in control of my hands. When I placed my hands on her naked breasts during the next opportunity that came, she did something that I found very endearing. While I caressed and squeezed her breasts, she held my face in her hands. There was so much tenderness in her touch that I practically melted with affection. She let me play with her as I saw fit and she only showered me with unspoken love. My chest felt so heavy that the feelings almost oozed out of my eyes.
That afternoon, she came to my room and came into my arms. The first time ever we hugged and what a hug it was. She was so soft and so warm; I wanted to absorb her into myself. She held herself against me while I soaked myself with her tenderness. Then she left as quickly as she had come. She left me behind shaking and trembling and feeling cold. I had to get a grip on myself. I was so overwhelmed with her softness that I wasn’t giving myself the chance to savor it. I was so hungry that I was eating such delicious food so quickly to almost give me a stomachache. One reason being that we only had limited time with each other; the other being that it was all something new for me. I had only heard stories, and here I was actually experiencing what it feels to be intimate with a woman. Doors were opening to me to a brand new world and I was like a village boy in a big city for the first time.
Besides, I felt a little foolish for acting so emotional. I didn’t know how she felt about the whole thing. Did I just take her by surprise or did she want to be with me as much as I wanted to be with her? I couldn’t say for sure and I had to find out if she really had as strong feelings about the whole thing as I did. I decided to be restrained in our future encounters. I practically went back to our previous routine. I didn’t touch her, only kept myself to hooking her bra. She was no longer hiding herself away from me, but I controlled the temptation to cup her. I withdrew from showing her my feelings almost completely. It must have seemed like I was upset with her. She didn’t say anything but I could tell that she was confused. One night as I was thinking about her soft and warm breasts, she came to my room in darkness. She got into bed with me and hugged me hard. Then she whispered in my ear, “Why is it that you don’t touch me any more?”
I wasn’t ready for such a direct question because I was hoping that she would show her want of me instead of just asking me to show my want of her. I didn’t answer her.
“Do you know how much I miss your touch?” She whispered again. “I am going crazy waiting for it to come and it is not coming. Have I done something wrong?”
“No,” I knew I had to answer. “It’s nothing like that. It is just that I don’t know how to behave with you. I don’t know what I am supposed to do. I don’t know what you are supposed to do. Then again, you don’t really do anything. I seem to be the only one who is doing something.”
She slapped me in the face. “I can’t believe what I am hearing.” She seemed angry. “I have given myself in to you. I have let you do with me as you please. Isn’t that something? What do you want me to do, what am I supposed to do? I have made myself available to you.”
I understood then what she was going through. I also understood that she was as lost as I was. We were both discovering an uncharted territory and we both had no clue or direction. I just held her in my arms as hard as I could. We both stayed together with each other until she realized that she had to go back. I made a plan after she left. I remembered her words that she had made herself available to me. I hadn’t actually claimed my prize, reward, right, whatever. When we were together the next time and she stood in front of me topless, I asked her to take her shalwar off.
She seemed hesitant, but I was serious. After a slight pause, she pulled her nada and loosened the shalwar around her waist, and then she let it drop to the floor. I moved a little back to look at her completely. She felt awkward, even embarrassed, but I didn’t care. I wanted to see her that way. She was only in her black panties. Apparently, she had settled on black as her new color. It was lace panty, so her hair and her pussy were visible through it. I then went closer to her, knelt in front of her and started to slide her panty off. She lifted her one foot and then the other to let me remove it off completely. I could hardly breathe. My breath was coming so hard and fast that it was getting stuck on the sides of my air passageway. I swallowed hard as I looked at my aunt standing in front of me completely naked. I must have been pretty yellow in the face as all the blood must have drained from it. I was hard, really hard.
She moved towards me, took my face in her hands and whispered, “You need to calm down, or you are going to faint.”
I stuttered, “I can’t. I don’t have any control. I don’t know what to do.”
“Let me check something.” With that she reached down and placed her hand where my cock was straining. She felt my hardness and I squirmed. She said, “You seem to have a very serious problem.” Then she started to unbutton my shirt and said, “You better get out of your clothes quickly so I can help you.”
I rushed through undressing and stood in front of her naked. My cock was pointing towards the ceiling. I could see certain amazement in her eyes.
She quickly went to her bed and lay down. She asked me to come to her. I was nervous and trembling. I moved next to the bed. She pulled her legs up so her knees were touching her breasts and her feet were in the air. She asked me to come around and sit where her butt was. As I got on the bed and sat on my haunches in front of her pussy, she opened her thighs and gave me a good view of what I never thought I would get to see at my age. She asked me to lean forward and overshadow her with my body. I had to stretch myself over her. She reached between us and grabbed my cock with her right hand. Her soft hands on my shaft sent shivers up my spine. She rubbed the end in between her legs and I felt her wetness. I had to close my eyes because it was feeling so nice. It seemed like she was looking for something with it and soon she found it. She kind of stuck the tip on an opening and then quickly reached around my body and grabbed my butt cheeks.
“Now, push slowly,” She said.
I pushed down and the doors to heavens started to open. I felt myself getting inside of her and my body shook with the force of such shear pleasure. I kept going in and in for a while before my legs touched her legs.
“Ohhhhh, suni.” She said in a convoluted voice. She motioned for me to pull back up. I slowly started to pull my pelvic area up and I felt myself coming out of her slowly. As I felt the head almost about to come out of her, she grabbed my ass and pushed me down again.
“Ohhhhh, God, Sunil.” I felt a bit scared at the voice coming out of her throat.
“Ohhhhh, sunilllll, you are such a beeeeeaaaaast!”
I kept moving up and down slowly, with occasional push against her body to hold myself all the way in.
“Ohhhh, sunillllll, you feel so good. I feel you all over my insides.”
I kept moving in and out. Then she grabbed my ass and started to push it down forcibly. It seemed like she was asking me to increase the rhythm.
“Oh, God, Oh, Raj, Oh, God, Oh Goooooood!!” With that she started thrusting upward.
“Ohhhhh, Ohhhh, Oh, oh oh oh oh.” Then one big thrust up and she held the position as her body shivered and jerked.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhh, Sunil.” She said one last time as she relaxed a little. I slowly picked up the pace. She was relaxed and calm by now and let me go at any pace I wanted. Soon, I felt the signal. I felt this sudden rush of incredible pleasure and something started to erupt out of me and into her. I couldn’t hold my voice any longer and had to scream, “Ohhhh Auntie!”
“No, call me Vidhya,” she said but I was too far gone to care. Then with one final thrust I held her pinned down and I felt this liquid gushing out of me and into her, first in big spurts, then in short spits and then just leaking slowly. I was spent. I had to just fall on top of her where she held me for a long time. Needless to say, I wasn’t in the mood to go to school after that and I realized that the energy that used to keep me restless had left my body for a while. For a short while as it turned out. I spent the rest of the morning spending it and hearing that weird sound of hers with “Oh God, Oh Raj” mixed in. Any aunties and girls from Chennai who needs to have fun or just comment my story please do mail me at sunilkum