The Soul Mates

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Nobody in my village speaks English and my mother tongue is not English. That explains why my language tends to be rather bookish. I taught me this wonderful language largely by burrowing into great books. My main-stream fiction, unfortunately, has no takers.

*****

I was very depressed. Tomina was determined to leave after serving me for almost three years. She was a real support in all fields of my concern. She is indeed seeking greener pastures. Her new employee is Nisha, another film star.

It was a blushing warm breezy evening in Cochin, the biggest city in Kerala, south India. After a trying day in the tinsel world, which churns out TV serials for evening family consumption, I was going home across the maze of the city. Tomina was driving as usual. We do not talk. There is nothing much to talk, it will be a waste of breath. I have to learn to be self-reliant, as Bhagavat Gita says, you are the only friend you have and you are the only foe you have.

I watched her soft and alluring frame, wrapped in churidar. She remained composed, concentrating on the road. Her delicious breasts were bulging out enticingly and temptingly as usual. She was an ardent admirer of mine and that was the reason for becoming my personal assistant. She was literally mesmerized by my famous shape, which has not changed much, now that I am nearing forty. I had noticed her surreptitiously eyeing me with greedy eyes for many months. And one evening the cat came out of the basket.

As usual she was helping me to change at home after a tortuous day. I noticed her hands shivering and her eyes glazing in the zenith of inordinate passion.

‘It seems that you are a man trapped in a sweet lady’s body,’ I taunted. In fact I have actually been enjoying the devout attention I was getting.

‘Forgive me madam, I am much more than that. Please do not dismiss me, I will do anything to be in your company and service all the time. But I am a shemale, with natural breasts and a raging cock which has a will of its own in your presence.’

It startled me. I had never expected such a twist of events. The pleading eyes of hers would have melted even an unfeeling rock. My embarrassment immediately gave way to curiosity and amusement. I was standing in front of her in my panties and bra. In the heat of the moment I embraced her and patted her on the back to reassure her.

‘it is alright Tomina, I understand. You have been a good companion to me all through. I cannot think of missing you.’

She smiled through her tears. I felt very protective of her, such a delicate girl, her devotion is unquestionable.

‘If you would permit me, I would like to see your .. you know.. penis,’ I said demurely.

Like an obedient child she removed the top of her churidar, revealing her enticing pair of 34C breasts, encased in lace bra. Then she unfastened and pulled down her loose pants, exposing her red panties. Her penis was tucked upwards to the edge of the panties to reduce the effect of the raging erection.

Instantly my mouth was watering. I have never had a penis ever since my cheating husband left me fifteen years back. The tempestuous life with him had altogether alienated me from any kind of amorous relationship with men. Quite mesmerized I moved to the equipment like a somnambulist. It was not that big, but it was a penis after all. Shortly it was slithering in my mouth. Tomina was in seventh heaven. Ecstasy reeked from her mind and body. When I had her in my mouth I needed her in my vagina too. A pernicious emptiness gnawed me down there. I laid her on the bed and got on top of her. As I was oozing, her penis dived into me like a knife into melting butter. With a few strokes, I came violently, bathing her penis with my juice, within seconds she also came with a sweet shudder.

‘Thank you Susanna madam, my life’s ambition has been fulfilled,’ she sobbed, ‘I have been dreaming this moment all through my life, thank you.’

‘I also needed it dear. I have been denying a penis to me for so long.’

‘Let me worship you the way I want,’ now it was her turn to take the lead. After a few minutes of sweet ministrations with her soft lips and subtle fingers, her mouth settled on my pussy. Within minutes she rewarded me with another violent orgasm.

Thereafter we have been very close, she was my shadow, my confidante, my companion and my soul mate. Once again I had a very active sex life. I want sex my way, I cannot let somebody maul my body like a wolf on a lamb. Sex had to be according to my script, and I wanted to be on the dominant side. But men, especially my estranged husband, do not have the patience or resourcefulness to fit my bill. But Tomina proved to be all that I wanted on bed, soft, yielding submissive and anxious to please. Her nubile body turned out to be my weakness. When we have the privacy we would make love to each other’s breasts for hours on end. In fact my greatest asset apart from my charming Syrian Christian face, are my 35F breasts.

My reverie pendik escort came to an end when she parked the car in the parking space on the ground floor. My apartment is on Marine Drive, up in the heavens on the thirteenth floor, overlooking the backwaters and the international transshipment terminal. Back in my room, she deposited my bag and helped me undress and change. My son has volunteered to wash the clothes daily. Usually she would eat me and then I would make love to her, but she was afraid to take the initiative today. But I needed a parting fuck, a wicked Parthian shot for my slobbering lover, to be frank.

I pulled her to the bed and undressed her. Her tool was ready for me as usual. We ended with a grunting climax. We lay together in the afterglow, sweat running down our cleavages.

‘Does Nisha know what you have between your legs?’ I asked.

She smiled, which meant ‘yes’

‘Did she ever take you to bed?”

“Yes”

That moment I hated her almost. I had been under the impression that there were no secrets between us. Nobody is indispensable; you have to be on your own.

When she marched out, I was left alone in my spacious apartment. Loneliness pounced on me from all sides. My son Tomy will turn up only after seven after his college and cricket. I reclined on the divan at the balcony overlooking the backwaters and the blue expanse of the Arabian Sea. The boats and canoes floated about like puny specs. Enormous centuries heaved in the silence of the sprawling urbanscape. Even in the urban cauldron of humanity, individuals like me are smothered by loneliness. That too, when I am still the fire in the youthful dreams of Kerala. After my marriage I had bowed out of the film world to make a family. It had disappointed millions of my admirers. But after my divorce, to make a living, I chose to become an actress in the seemingly endless serials. My shapely figure, with a slight plumpness lately, fitted well with the mother characters having pre adolescent children. But life is not money alone.

I watched life spreading its gaudy wings down there. On the famous footpath along the water front, lovers and holiday makers were moving on waves upon wave. I could see many of them looking out to the distant horizon from the rainbow bridge, the celebrated landmark. The silhouette of Bolghatty Palace could be discerned in the woods. The piercing spire of Vallarpadom Church was seen far and away. Cochin bar mouth, the opening through which many a sea faring nation ventured into the possibilities of India sprawled out pensively. A little to the left I could see millions of lights blinking and winking on Wellingdon Island the hub of maritime trade. Life spreads itself into myriad forms across the warp and woof of time and space.

My son came looking for me to the balcony. He is a cute and gentle child of eighteen, easy going and trouble free.

‘Oh mother you are here,’ he exclaimed, his eyes devouring me. His hair comes down to his shoulders and he does not have much hair on his face. So he has a cute feminine visage which is endearing.

‘Tomy, let me stay to myself for some time. You go ahead,’ I snapped.

At night sleep evaded me for some reason. I wanted company. I decided to go to Tomy for some sweet talk. I have never been to his room for years. Like many adolescents he also is an avid admirer of me. But I have never taken his passing infatuation seriously. In my time half of the population was keeping me in their fantasies.

I knocked at the door and opened it. He was on his laptop. Immediately he minimized whatever he was reading, he was indeed surprised by the short fuse visit.

‘I just felt lonely, I wanted to sit near to you for some time,’ I said.

‘Sure mother, make yourself comfortable,’ he volunteered to clear the books on the chair. I surveyed the room. It was, strikingly, full of me. The walls had full blown pictures of me in my bra as I was a model for a branded bra. The 35F tits are actually my asset.

Still more surprising, I noticed that his bare chest was tattooed with my picture. I gasped at the tattoo.

‘This room is full of me’, I observed aloud.

‘I am also full of you,’ he declared.

‘You are not any man in the street to do that, you are my son,’

‘You are my mother and you are the most adorable woman in the world,’

‘It is wrong Tomy,’

“I am not harming anybody, I am not causing any nuisance to you, I silently and unobtrusively worship you,’ he justified.

‘Why Tomy, why do you do that?’

‘I don’t know, I just want to be near to you, dear to you, I want to be in your presence all the time. I worship you in whichever ways I am capable of. I want to see you and revel on your fragrance,’

‘My fragrance?’

‘Wherever I go and whatever I do always I keep something closer to you with me. Your fragrance gives me the right mood. In your scent I find the world beautiful,’ from the pocket of his trousers he pulled out my soiled panties maltepe escort which I had put on today. So, that explains why he insisted on washing my clothes.

‘Look I offered to wash the clothes only to keep your used panties with me, I smell it whenever possible,’

What is on your computer?’ I asked.

They were a collection of my photographs from various films and serials.

‘When I am depressed you are making my life all the more difficult”, I marched out of him room in a fury.

Back in my room, I tried in vain to put things together. To my surprise I found myself very wet and excited. His tattoo lingered on my mind. It had a diabolic lure.

Early in the morning, Tomy appeared in my room with a cup of steaming coffee, obviously to let it know that he was penitent.

‘Sorry mother for troubling you. I never meant it,’ he said with genuine concern.

‘It was my fault dear. I did not take care of you when you needed me,’

His pristine innocence was a terrible turn on. I wanted to hold him, I wanted to feed him from my fabulous breasts, I wanted to hug him flat to my luscious body. I had not breast fed him, probably I will have to make up for that.

Then I moved to the bathroom for my regular activities. I shaved both of my armpits for the benefit of the television viewer. Took a bath and came out wrapping a large towel around me. Then I realized that Tomina is not any more there, ready with my dress for the day.

‘Tomy, please bring my dress from the wardrobe, the set of cream saree and accessories,’ I yelled out in frustration.

I was clad in a big towel covering my bosom down to my lower thighs. He came with the demanded things and placed them on the table and stood there expectantly. I smiled. ‘Hand me the panties please,’ I said.

He picked it up as if handling the holiest of the holy. His whole body was shivering and his face sported a furious blush. I asked him to hold it out for me, quite incensed by his body language. He knelt and offered the linen for me. Supporting myself on his strong smooth shoulders, I stepped into the panties and pulled them up. Then I turned away from him, lowered the towel and to my mid riff and asked him to hand over the creamy bra. I put it on and asked him to hook it from behind. It was obvious that he was on the verge of coming. His fingers fluttered behind me, his eyes were in a haze. He politely helped me in putting on the blouse, underskirt and saree. I felt light headed and slutty.

In the evening he was waiting for me and helped me undress, passionately inhaling my sweaty perfume. He was bold enough to kiss the cups of my used bra and the wet gusset of my panties. When I retreated to the kitchen I furtively noticed him kissing the warm seat where I was sitting and even licking the oval depression made by my butts. He was profoundly making me tipsy with passion. Next day while helping me with dressing, we progressed a grade more. After having adjusted the pleats of my saree, kneeling at my feet, he audaciously kissed my crotch across the saree and layers of under garments. I was already unbearably horney. His nose was straining to reach out to my core. Riding a crest of passion I lifted the saree and underskirt and asked him to remove my panties. Immediately his face was clamped to my core. I pressed his face to me and was convulsively riding him. I bathed him with an excruciating orgasm. Thus the borderline was crossed in a maddening bout of passion. The war of nerves had reached the critical mass. Later I walked out light hearted.

He followed me down to the car park keenly devouring me with his eyes.

‘For a woman with the right kind of curves, saree works wonders. I feel to be out of the world just looking at you, just standing in your divine shadow,’ he confessed. I smiled, I knew he meant every word he said.

‘You are my idol, you are my god,’ he declared.

You turn out to be what you think you are. You happen to be god to the one who thinks you are god. I felt elated and happy to the core.

In the evening we made sweet love for the first time, not in the male chauvinist fashion. I played the dominant role. He lay beneath me enjoying my aggressive passion. In the afterglow he made love to my boobs for hours on end.

‘This is my heaven,’ he declared kissing my breasts.

‘These are yours for ever darling, these are our breasts from now on, not mine. Do not keep them exposed for long. Once you are done, keep them in bras, the pectorals need the support of bra to keep them in shape,’ I said.

‘Absolutely mommy,’ he was beaming.

When I came home next day evening he was found studying me on TV comparing me clad in various dresses in various roles. As soon as I appeared he came dashing and kissed me fervently. I returned the sweet devout kiss with equal passion. Then he ebulliently ran to the kitchen and immediately came out with a cup of steaming coffee, which he knew I needed. I relaxed on the sofa sipping kartal escort it. My darling proceeded to unstrap and remove my foot ware.

‘You smell so sweetly today,’ he observed.

‘It was a hot day, I was sweating the whole day,’ I said.

‘Lucky me,’ he dived inside my saree and sniffed my crotch, which was copiously wet and drenched. The hot coffee and his gentle ministrations imparted a feeling of paradise. I opened and stretched my legs as much as the confines of my underskirt and saree allowed for the benefit of my child.

Sounds of perfect contentment were heard from inside my underskirt. I smiled with a heady satisfaction.

‘What did you find about me on TV darling?’ I asked.

Immediately he dived out from under my skirt licking his lips and sat close to me.

‘I will show you,’ he turned to the TV on which a serial was running. I was playing the role of house wife and Jasmine as the sister -in-law. We both were in sarees.

‘I wish you opened up your hair instead of showing it pony tail, yours is straight and silken whereas Jasmine’s is slightly curly and darker. Hers is beautiful but yours is more fascinating, keep it open to the advantage of the admirers.’

Then opened my hair and buried his head in it inhaling deeply.

‘In heaven the wandering clouds must be like this,’ he said.

‘Another thing is the front of your saree. When you pleat it into multi layers, people cannot get a real profile of our perfect breasts and worship them. See, Jasmine has done it smartly, through her translucent saree she flaunts her asset. Hers are wonderful indeed but ours have more perfect shape. Breasts can never be more perfect. Over the years they have become more ripe and sexy’

He adjusted the front of my bust and observed closely its visual impact.

‘I am happy that I have a critical admirer at home,’ I laughed.

He seemed to fit well into the frame of my fantasies, young submissive and loyal. He will never betray me or let me down. He is my own.

With a mischievous grin he removed the front of my saree and opened the blouse. Then he buried his face in my cleavage and inhaled deep, softly cupping one breast over the silken bra.

‘Oh dear I must take a pee, I am bursting,’ I stood up. Together we proceeded to my latrine.

‘Mommy’ he called me from behind while I was removing the panties.

There was a mesmerizing plea in his eyes.

‘Of course dear, here are my panties,’ I offered them.

He received it as if receiving holy wafer and kissed them.

‘Mommy, will you let me?’ he asked, his supplication would have melted anything.

‘Ha ha,’ I laughed, ‘it will be nasty.’

‘It is my long cherished dream.’

In fact all of my darling’s dreams happened to be mine too. I have never had such a submissive and docile lover with such a perfect body.

He came on his knees to my orifice and nudged me to let it go. Though my bladder was bursting, I could not let it go, though I was willing.

‘Please,’ he urged.

‘Darling, I cannot feed you standing. I think you should lie on the floor.’

Immediately he spread himself on the tiled floor, heaving in anticipation.

Supporting on my knees I sat on his face and collected his face in my hands. I smiled down at him as an expression of profound love and endearment.

‘Let me know when your mouth is full,’ I attached him to my aching orifice and suddenly the dam break happened. He tapped on my thigh when his mouth was full. Then in sweet mouth full quanta I offered him my delicious motherly feed. Once I was empty he started to lick me softly. I encouraged him holding his head in both o f my hands. He was slurping up all the pure nectar I was secreting for him.

‘Darling I am coming,’ I screamed violently jerking his head. Shortly my jet shot deep into his mouth. This was unexpected. During the day I had been planning to make sweet love to him on my bed at night and my pussy had been leaking whole day anticipating the saga.

When I calmed down on his face, my darling deeply kissed me down there with a smooching sound. His transparent face opened up to his immaculate soul, which registered absolute love and devotion for me.

‘Now I need a bath dear,’ I said.

Immediately he stood up and helped me remove the saree, blouse, underskirt and then bra. He took my bra, kissed the inside of the cups, kissed the sides of each breast, the nipples and then licked my armpits to make me very passionate again.

‘Oh my sweet angel,’ I squealed.

‘I will be waiting outside with a fresh set of night dress,’ he gleefully walked out deep kissing my bra and panties. I do not keep our breasts (mine and my son’s) exposed for long. They have to be encased and supported by specially designed bras at the earliest. I hurried into my bath.

My darling helped me into a fresh bra and panties. Then he helped me put on a red flowing satin gown. I kissed him for being so chivalrous. I have never had such an ideal lover.

Then it began to rain. Every noble passion is wet, so is the rain, the heavens are making love to the earth. Rain puled on the green grass, rain wept from the poor man’s eave and whispers in the ears of eternity.

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