The boy succumbed. “Mm, yes. I can never reach there!”
She ran the soap over his shoulders, down his back to his waist, up again, and then began to scrub it with a damp washcloth, her body bent forward over his.
“Stand up,” she said. “I’m too old to keep bending like this.” Her hands were at his waist, just above his briefs. She hesitated for a second, and then took the plunge, slipping her hands into them, over his buttocks. He froze, wriggled, and tried to break free. “Stop jumping about,” she snapped as if there was nothing amiss. “C’mon, take them off.”
“Auntie, no!”
“Oh, don’t be silly, boy! What have you to hide from me? Now do as I say! C’mon, I haven’t all day!”
She felt the tension in his body. Slowly, hesitantly, he hooked his thumbs in his briefs and rolled them down. Sunita stifled a moan of excitement. She soaped his buttocks, his thighs, calves, scrubbed them, moved up again.
“Now lift your arms, Vinod. And spread your feet.”
The boy seemed to be in a daze. He raised his arms and shuffled his legs apart. Sunita moved closer, moved the soap and cloth under his buttocks, her fingertips touching his scrotum. The boy squirmed. She drew away, did his underarms. He relaxed, thought she had finished. She lathered the soap afresh in her hands and quickly slipped her arms around him, soaping his neck and chest and belly. He tensed again as her hands moved lower. He tried to break way but now she had her arms around him and it was too late. Her hands were in his crotch, her fingers moving up and down over his penis. She bit her lower lip. It was wonderful, better than she’d dared hope, at last seven inches long and thickening rapidly as she worked it.
“Oh god Auntie, no!” he groaned.
“Yes, Vinod. Do as I say. Turn around.”
“Auntie, please.”
“Do it, Vinod. Do it because I ask you to. Please.”
Trembling, he turned around and they were face to face. He was a good head taller than her. She ran her hands over his body, down to his crotch again, caressing his now massive penis, looked up at him.
“Have you had a woman before, Vinod? Tell me. Have you?”
He looked at her, confusion, despair, fear and excitement all mingled in his eyes. “Yes,” he stuttered. “Yes.”
“Older than you?”
“No … no … not older.”
“It’s different with someone experienced.”
“Auntie, please,” he moaned. “Please don’t.” But his body betrayed him. His cock throbbed in her hand.
“Water.”
“What?”
“Water. You need to rinse. You’re all soapy.”
The boy turned and bent to fill the tumbler. When he straightened, she had let her pallu drop completely, had undone all but one button of her blouse. Her swollen breasts pushed at the cloth. Her long mangalsutra glistened in her cleavage. Her eyes glittered with hunger, her lips were parted. She cupped and lifted her breasts, squeezing them, pressed her tongue to her upper lip. Staring at her, he sluiced the water over himself and now didn’t object when she took it from him and washed his penis.
He took the tumbler from her; she stroked his cock in her fingers. He refilled the tumbler, bending sideways from the waist, then straightened and slowly tipped it over her neck and face. Sunita groaned softly, tilting her face up as the warm water trickled over her face and between her small, shapely breasts, down her back and shoulders, down her belly, soaking her clothes. She plucked at the knot of her sari and it came undone, fell to her feet and she took his hand in hers and pressed it to her crotch. Her cunt was wet, seeping juice and he gasped, hot and horny now, pressing his thick finger between her cunt-lips, knuckling her clitoris. Sunita moaned, arching her face and back, thrusting her breasts outward and he snapped the last button on her blouse. Her breasts bounced out and he bent his head and took one in his mouth, sucking hungrily, nibbling her stiff nipple. Moaning, she curled an arm around his head.