You enter a dark room, lit only by5 candles...
"Such a slenderly tapered waist and nicely rounded bosom."
Mum looked at me sharply. "You should not be having have such thoughts. I am your Mother!" she snapped.
I do not know what made me say it, but the words were out before I could stop them. "Do you say that to Uncle Rahul?"
"Why do you mention my Brother?" she demanded.
Since I had nothing more than suspicion to support my insinuation, I lifted my shoulders in a shrug. "I see things."
"Well whatever you think you may have seen, you are wrong. What happened between he and I was perfectly innocent. Rahul was contemplating looking for a bride, and he begged me to teach him how to touch her so that she would be pleased rather than afraid. He seemed so distraught that I could not find it in my heart to refuse."
Her explanation failed to convince me and I put out a hand, expecting her to back away, but she remained unmoving. The memory of my Aunt's oozing femininity gave me a boldness I had never thought possible, and I placed my palm firmly on the exposed portion of Mother's breast. "Did it not please you when he touched you like this?" I whispered. "Or like this?" My thumb caressed her rising nipple.
The way she lowered her eyes without replying, led me to think there may be at least a grain of truth in what my Aunt had suggested. Her heart began to pound in her chest, and she gave a strangled moan as my hand moved on her breast, squeezing, stroking, and becoming bolder I unwound the top of her sari, baring her to the waist.
"Were you thrilled when he gazed adoringly at your wonderful breasts and exquisite nipples?" I persisted, wanting her to relive the memory. I could sense her resistance crumbling, and I pressed home the advantage, slipping my hand beneath her sari and stroking her wetness. "When he kissed your breasts and nursed at your nipples did it make you want him to touch you here?"
The reluctance in her voice fought with the growing desire in her eyes, and parting her thighs she moaned again and murmured "What sort of devil have you become Wazir, to tempt your Mother so? We must not do this."
I pushed a finger into her and raised it to show her glistening juices. "Your lips say 'no,' but this says 'yes.' I replied gently. There was no resistance when I unwound the rest of her sari and cast it aside, to gaze spellbound at her smooth unadorned mound, with beads of arousal dotted along her pouting slit like pearls nestled between brown silken cushions. I wondered briefly if she had shaved to please her brother or her husband, then reasoned that Father would most assuredly have become suspicious if it had been for anyone but him.
Smoothing the moisture across her mound I whispered, "When Uncle caressed you here did you long for him to taste you as I long to taste you?"
She drew in a sharp breath, and taking her barely audible "Oh!" as assent, I lowered my lips to her fragrant treasure. I felt her thighs tremble as my tongue probed between the soft lips and began to dance with her swollen bud, coaxing out her exotic essences. I feasted greedily for many delicious minutes, until she seized my hair to pull me closer, groaning with frustration when I disengaged and moved further up her quivering form. Pushing my dhoti down my legs, I placed her hand on my tumescence.
"Tell me that which your treasure already knows," I urged.
"May Parvati forgive me," she gasped forlornly, sliding her curled fingers along my length. The bangles on her wrist tinkled musically, and her eyes gleamed with need as her hand flew up and down my rigid rod.
Feeling the exciting grasp of her fingers, and hearing her invoke the name of the Goddess of Love, I knew she was mine for the taking, but taking was not enough. I needed her to give herself to me willingly, without restraint or regret, so that in the future she would not hesitate to give herself to me again and again. "Say it," I insisted. "Say the words."
Stroking desperately she sighed in total surrender.