Sarayu Aunty Ch. 02

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Disclaimer: All characters in this story who are involved in sexual acts are above the age of 18.

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It was past 9:30pm in the evening when the phone rang. I thought it would be Neena – probably managing to get some free time at home towards the end of the day.

“Hello.”

“Hello”, I responded a bit uncertainly. The voice was familiar but not one I had heard on the phone before.

“Sri – Hi. Its me, Sarayu aunty.”

“Oh – Hi. Your voice sounded a bit different.”

I was a bit taken aback at the call. I had left her with a “call me” statement the previous night but hadn’t expected it happen so soon. After the short but intense kissing session with her which was interrupted by uncle, I had come home and wanked off immediately, needing urgent relief. I had a disturbed night’s sleep, tossing and turning with arousal and thoughts of Sarayu aunty flittering through my dreams. On top of that my mother had woken me up early. She was taking an early flight to Mumbai and then onto New York to be with my father for a week. A long weekend was coming up and she wanted to make the most of it.

I always disliked Mondays at school and that day was no exception. I didn’t even manage to get a glimpse of Neena at school. Additionally, the cultural competition which involved my singing amongst other events, was happening that Wednesday. An extended practice session meant I came home late and had just about had my dinner when that call from Sarayu aunty came in.

“You can talk?”, she asked.

“Sure. I’m alone.”

“Your mother?”

“She left today morning to the US to be with my father. She won’t be back till next Tuesday.”

“Really? You are all by yourself at your home?”

I could sense the disapproval in her voice.

“Yes.”

“Is it safe? How do you manage for food? I can’t believe your parents are ok with this!”

Again – that tone of disapproval… I had to spend a few minutes to assure her that I was safe, capable of self-living and that this wasn’t the first occasion on which I had been left alone. She was still not convinced at the end of it so I decided to change the topic.

“Uncle and Sanjay aren’t at home now?”

“Yes, but Sanjay is in his room upstairs and uncle has retired early tonight – had a long day at the office.”

“Oh – ok.”

Once again, visions of her lovely face and figure entered my mind. What an absolute beauty she was! I could still remember the taste of her lips from the previous evening – it was barely 24 hours since.

“So you are in the living room by yourself?”

“Yes.”

There was a moment of strained silence from both ends. Still young, I was not the smooth talker that I (at least think) developed into in later years.

“I wanted to say thank you for taking me to the match yesterday. I have always wanted to see the West Indian team play and I got to do that – it was fantastic.”

“No problem Sri – it was a pleasure to have you along,”

Was I just imagining things or did she have a special emphasis when she said “pleasure”.

“Oh – but I still can’t thank you enough aunty.”

“Well, you did a pretty good job at last night.”

I gasped at her statement and remained silent for a few seconds not knowing how to respond. In the meantime, I had developed a quick and painfully hard erection as the import of her statement hit me. I struggled to put together a suitably tacky response but none came out.

“Sorry – got to go now.”

I heard a click and the phone went dead. She had disconnected. My brain went into a frenzy. Did she disconnect because Sanjay or uncle was coming into the room? Or was it that she was expecting me to say something appropriate back and gotten impatient with the wait? The familiar pattern of multiple nightly wanks continued for the second night in a row. I dreamt of both Neena and Sarayu together and how that would be.

Tuesday was much like the previous day – a full day at school and extended practice till late evening. When I got back home, I was hopeful that Sarayu aunty would call again like she did the previous evening. I remained up till past midnight but no call came. I debated whether to call their house myself, but decided it might be a bit too risky. I was disappointed but the horniness remained. Another night of hand exercises followed.

Wednesday dawned bright and sunny. I headed towards the auditorium at AIIMS where the competition was being conducted. Meeting Sanjay only brought back vivid memories of his mother and also the phone conversation we had. It was difficult moving around in a large crowd of teenage boys and girls while trying to hide a prominent tentpole of an erection that went and came in bouts, as thoughts of Sarayu flitted on and off in my mind. Sometime during the day, i spotted Rishi at a distance. I made no move to engage with him, but now thoughts of Neena and our wonderful romp the previous Saturday kept playing in my brain. I was having a difficult time bonus veren siteler focusing on the competition at hand.

The music competition event was the prime concluding event and started only in the afternoon. We were the second last slot to start at around 6;30pm. Each school had thirty minutes and could present whatever they wanted. Dominated by a very public school English speaking crowd, pretty much every other school had a Western angle to it. Two schools had shared the rental of a full blown piano and had students play Classical music. WIth no disrespect intended, I had never been able to appreciate and enjoy Western classical music and that day was no exception. However the crowd, most of whom probably knew nothing of the intricacies of the music playing, went into oohs and aahs – a strong yearning to be seen as knowledgeable in “Western” culture was highly predominant amongst many at that time.

I was getting more and more nervous as the schools went through their thirty minute routines one by one. And the more I thought about it, the less I felt favorably about Mr. D’Mello’s idea of doing a Carnatic classical session. I felt that if we had any chance of a decent standing in the competition then we needed a change of plan. One of the judges was a famous Hindustani classical vocalist – some similarities with the Carnatic tradition existed. And so at the last moment, when we were on stage, I decided to throw caution (and all our practice sessions) to the wind and improvise on the spot. I announced a ragam thalam pallavi in Hindolam. My accompanists were in a state of obvious shock, looking at me disbelievingly on stage with the audience looking on. But I felt wonderfully at ease. Hindolam is close to the Hindustani raaga Malkauns and I felt the North Indian crowd would feel some semblance of kinship. The tanam section was totally new to the audience, but it is one of the most pleasant sounding sections in a musical recitation that I felt it would go down well. Lastly, the kalpanaswarams went down spectacularly. I finished with a short Sanskrit piece in Jonpuri that was a favorite of my guru’s guru and of course the mangalam. A rousing ovation followed. Notwithstanding the general western tilt we managed a second place in the competition which was enough to get my school the overall winner position amongst all events.

My singing had obviously gone down well with the rank and file of students in attendance. A few girls that I crossed later said a “congratulations” or “fantastic singing” followed by simpering giggles. As I made my way back to the section of the audience where students from my school were seated, my eyes were caught by a bright pink color dress at the back. As I scanned more closely, I realized with surprise that it was Sarayu aunty and that her husband was with her. Sanjay had his dramatics competition just before ours and they had obviously come to see him. I was surprised though that they had stayed back an extra few hours to sit through the music competition.

A little while later with all the events of the day concluded. Sanjay called out to me asking me to wait and caught up with me.

“Need a ride back home? Its late and buses will not be easy to get.”

“Sure. Thanks. I saw your parents at the back of the audience I think.”

“Yes. Dad taken a half-day off from the office to see me in the play. And I told them you were singing later and amma then decided they would stay back to listen.”

“Oh – great.”

“That was superb by the way – didn’t know you sang that well.”

“Oh – thanks. Yes, I have learnt since I was a child but all that took a hit after I came to Delhi.”.

By then we had made our way to where his parents were waiting. Sarayu aunty looked so unbelievably yummy. I felt a pang of jealousy as she wrapped one arm around Sanjay’s back drawing him into a hug and to say congratulations. She then turned to me and placed a hand on the small of my back.

“Beautifully sung – Sri.”.

“Thank you aunty.”

I felt her fingers start moving gently on my back. It was now uncle’s turn to say a few complimentary words about my singing. In the meantime, aunty’s fingers continued gently tracing random patterns on my back. There was incredible mixture of thrill and arousal – what a woman!

“Come, we will drop you home.”

We walked towards their car. Once again, Sanjay wanted to sit in the front. This was perfectly acceptable to me as I so wanted to remain close to Sarayu aunty. I kept stealing glances at her beautiful face, the freckly countenance, her pouty red lips and her wonderfully maintained body. The swell of her full breasts was clearly visible below the pink saree she was wearing. We got into the car and I immediately realized the advantages provided by the darkness. The streetlights were not that great and visibility inside the car was quite low.

As soon as we settled into our seats, my left hand moved immediately to grasp hers. She didn’t resist. Conversation started in the car as bedava bahis soon as uncle began driving.

“That last piece, before the mangalam – that was Jonpuri, right?”.

“Yes aunty.”

There was a tinge of surprise in my voice which uncle immediately spotted.

“She also learnt music when she was younger, you know.”

I silently cursed myself. Of course – they were Kannadigas. It was therefore high probability that she had learnt classical music for at least a little while when young – used to be a common practice in the older generations. I hadn’t come across too many people exposed to Carnatic music after we had moved to Delhi, and I felt a sudden kinship with her in this regard.

In the meantime, our hands had become more intertwined and intimate. I had started gently squeezing and caressing her right arm which was closest to me. Every now and then I’d check the rearview mirror and uncle and Sanjay seated in the front to see if they were noticing anything. Feeling a little bold, I took her hand in mine and placed both on her right thigh and and then placed my palm downwards on the soft fabric of her saree.

Suddenly, uncle piped up.

“By the way we are all going to Amritsar on Friday for the weekend. What about you?”

Turned out, uncle’s brother lived in Amritsar (another civil servant in the family) and so Sanjay and his parents were taking the overnight train on Friday and coming back only on Tuesday to take advantage of the holidays on Monday & Tuesday. Sanjay’s brother was going to join them directly from Kanpur where he was studying at IIT.

The news came as a bummer to me. I was of course going to be alone by myself at home with no travel plans. I had however hoped these last few days that I could find an excuse to visit Sanjay’s house and be with Sarayu aunty for at least a little bit. If nothing else, we could maybe find time to talk on the phone. I did have plans to meet with Neena over the weekend but those would be short sessions as her family would be around and we would not get extended time together. The term KLPD seemed to be applicable to me just then.

The conversation had to keep going though. I then had to explain to uncle about my situation, living by myself for the week etc. etc. and listen to his disapproving tone. I could see a faint smile on Sarayu aunty’s lips as she heard him say just about what she had expressed to me a few days ago on the phone.

I was a bit irritated by uncle’s comments. My response though was to squeeze Sarayu aunty’s thigh and then gently move my palm up and down the length of her thigh to her hip. Her initial reaction was to stiffen her body but she then slowly relaxed, widening her seated legs making it easier to for me to caress her thigh. With the saree and the petticoat beneath, there was zero skin contact. But just the feel of her flesh underneath the clothes was an unbelievable high. My poor cock was once again painfully erect with no semblance of relief in sight.

“So, you will manage all by yourself? Someone should keep track of your movements. It is not safe.”

Uncle continued on his diatribe while I kept feeling his wife’s thigh in the back seat. As my initial caution slowly dissipated, I moved my hand closer to the inside of the thigh, inching to the center after each every up and down movement of my hand. Aunty was clearly enjoying the attention I was paying her, making no objection whatsoever to the presence of my hand on her lower limb.

Sanjay suddenly jerked up from a stupor in the front seat and made to turn around to talk to me. I moved my hand out in a flash from where it was resting on Sarayu’s thigh. Luckily in the darkness, he didn’t notice.

“You still have that “Yes, Minister” book with you? Finished with it?”

“Not yet, nearly done though.”

“Oh, Sachin wanted to read it. I thought I could take it with me on the trip and hand it to him this weekend when we meet.”

“Ah. Sorry. I’ll try and finish it in the next day or two and drop it off at your home before you leave.”

“Great!”

That conversation of a few seconds was enough to break the rhythm I had going with Sarayu aunty. Maybe she suddenly realized the risk we were taking and had folded her hands back in and moved her body a few inches away closer to the door. We were not too far away from my home and I decided it best to not try anything more just then. Being late evening and with dying traffic on the roads, we were at my place very shortly after that.

As I got out of the car, I invited them in. As expected they declined, knowing fully well that there was no adult at home to host them. Aunty and uncle did get out of the car and inspected my residence from outside. We stayed on the ground floor of the house, the owner having taken up the upper floor but absent the last few years having moved overseas. It was a nice, posh bungalow of the eighties. I could see both aunty and uncle were impressed by the outer features of the building.

“Very nice house it seems deneme bonus – and a good neighbourhood.”

That it certainly was. The locality was quiet and people tended to stick to themselves so you got both privacy and loneliness as an inevitable consequence. I was half hoping Sarayu aunty would accede to come into the house, but she did no such thing. I continued stealing glances at her as she got back into the car. As I waved a goodbye to them, I felt a sudden sense of being all alone. In hindsight it was just the thought of not being able to spend time with Sarayu aunty for the next several days. I had become clearly infatuated with her and right now all I wanted to do was to have some quality private time in her company. I had enjoyed feeling her thighs in the car and I now became aware of my hard cock straining against my school pants.

The rest of the night was spent tossing and turning and waking up in the night for some welcome hand relief. When i woke up next day morning, I realized I had overslept. There was no way I was going to be in time for school. I was also physically tired after the long hours the last few days coupled with poor sleep. I then decided it was best to bunk the day at school. This was not something I did often and you needed to have a medical certificate from a doctor or your parents to sign for you. I then decided to do the then common trick in schools. An onion placed in the underarms got my temperature up. A visit to the doctor’s clinic nearby resulted in a prescription of rest and some Crocin. This gave me an official cover for taking the day off.

I went back home and had a short nap. By then, the fever had disappeared, as expected. It was around 11:30am and I was wondering how to spend the rest of the day when it struck me that I could go over to Sanjay’s house. He would be at school, his father at work and likely all the household help would have finished their morning chores and left by now. Most likely Sarayu aunty would be alone at home till Sanjay got back from school later in the afternoon. A good two hour window time was open.

I didn’t want to take my cycle and have it outside on display outside Sanjay’s house in the afternoon and instead took a short saunter over to his place. The look on Sarayu aunty’s face was obvious as she opened the door. Dressed in a purple saree, she was a vision of beauty. A set of multi-colored plastic bangles on her wrist made her look sexier than ever.

“Didn’t you go to school today?”

“No, I overslept by an hour.”

“What are you going to tell the school?”

I then explained to her the onion-in-the-underarm ploy. She laughed as I explained this to her.

“And so you finally decided to come here?”

I could sense a playful and flirtatious lilt in her tone as she asked this last query.

“Yes, I don’t think I thanked you for giving me a lift home last night.”

“Oh. And you want to do that now?”

I stepped forward and cupped her face in my hands and much like a few evenings earlier, planted a long kiss on her lips and then another and then one more… In the beginning, she remained a passive recipient of my kisses but a few minutes later she began reciprocating, pulling my head towards hers as our bodies moved to a tight embrace. There was not much talking beyond a few generic statements from my side about how beautiful she looked.

I once again indulged in the joy of tasting her lips and the skin of her face. I kept placing long wet kisses on her cheeks, her neck, her ears and every now then giving a long lick along the sides of her face. She was responding from her side as well, taking the lead by holding on to the back of my head and giving equally long kisses on my mouth. We gently moved around the room in a tight embrace, holding each other and enjoying a long necking session. I found that we had made our way near their dining table. I pushed away the chair at the head of the table. I bent down to place my arms above her knees and lift her up to sit on the table. She was much lighter than I had thought.

As she sat upright on the table, I grabbed her face once again as we continued our passionate kissing. My arms went to her legs and pulled them up to partially wrap them around my hips. She clung on to me with her hands around my neck as our snogging continued. A few minutes later I pushed her back to lie on the table. I lifted her legs so she lay with bent knees on the table. I quickly raised the hem of her saree and petticoat up to reveal a lovely smooth pair of legs. It was hardly a matter of seconds before I began kissing her legs, her calf and upto her knees. I kept repeating a trail of kisses up and down her lower legs before moving to her thighs. Her skin was smooth and silky much like I had imagined. My kisses slowly made their up her thighs, getting closer to her crotch.

That was when I noticed her panty. Nothing fancy about it – it was a typical cotton panty widely used in India those days, nothing like the more sensual lingerie available in the market nowadays. I could see patches of wetness on it indicating that she was as aroused if not more than I. I didn’t wait another moment. In a jiffy, I placed my hands at the sides of her waist and pulled her panty down and out. Sarayu aunty gave no resistance.

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