Saturday, 13 March 2010
Rest Of The Desi Kahani
I felt more and more like an intruder on a conversation that shouldn't be happening in front of me. But I was too spellbound for it to even occur to me to stand and leave. And at this point, it was as though neither of the sisters even remembered that I was there. Geetanjli, silent, stared at her hands, which were now folded in her lap. At last, and quietly, she said, still looking down, " You could have. You know? You could have. It would've been alright. I wanted you, too. All that time, I wanted you, too." She looked up, and the two sisters peered silently into each other's eyes -- moving slowly, tentatively closer to each other, closer to a kiss, their lips slightly open, quivering. But it was at that moment that Radhika reappeared, and the two drew quickly apart, the spell for now broken. I broke the nervous silence. "You might have gotten dressed," I said to our daughter. Her hair hung wet and still dripping, and she was wrapped in a white terry towel.
"It's too hot to dress," Geetanjli said with a nervous smile, looking at Radhika.
"Sit down and join us." Wordlessly, Radhika took a chair between her mother and myself and sat down. Her mood seemed serious, even sullen; and that, combined
with the awkwardness of the moment, made the room seem suddenly and uncomfortably quiet. "Cheer up, sweetheart," I said, reaching to my left to gently raise
her chin with my hand. "We need to talk," she said at last. "Or I need to, anyway."
"Do I need to leave?" Geetanjli said, setting down her drink. "I mean, is this a family thing?" "You are family, " said Radhika. "You need to hear this too."
We all sat silently, looking at her. I was terrified -- perhaps out of guilt -- by what she might say; Geetanjli seemed uncomfortable; and Suman, though staring at our daughter, seemed -- perhaps out of drunkenness -- to be resigned to whatever was about to come.
"Yes," Radhika went on -- and then she looked directly at her mother -- "Yes,
'Precious been fucking Daddy again, ' if that's the way you want to put it. "And yes," she went on, now turning to her Masi, "yes, I have sex with my father. My Daddy makes love to me. And to my sister, too. That's the way I prefer to put it. We're not just fucking. We're making love. Just like you and Jitendra. You think he doesn't talk about it?" Suman gasped, suddenly sober, and turned to stare at her sister. Jitendra was Geetanjli's son, now 16 years old. Geetanjli's eyes grew wide but blank as she stared into the distance beyond us; a pained sigh fell from her lips as all of us looked at her in silence.
"And all of that's cool," said Radhika, after a long pause. "Except for one thing."
All eyes were on her again, waiting, as though on a cliff's edge, for what might come next. "You," she said, now looking at her mother. Our daughter's eyes seemed to exude a degree of pain, the tears beginning to well up in them. "You," she said again, now rising to stand in front of Suman, "you just keep ignoring it all, like you think it'll go away - - at least where I'm concerned; I don't know about Simran. You just keep ignoring it. And I want you -- I so badly want you to be a part of
it! It just keeps feeling like you're the only thing standing in the way of all this being perfect!" "Oh Radhika, sweetheart," Suman whispered, looking into our
daughter's eyes. She extended both her hands to take hold of Radhika's wrists and pull her slightly closer. "I thought it was you, keeping me out - - keeping me at a distance." "I tried, that one night, you remember --" "I know," Suman interrupted her. "But I was scared. It terrified me.
It wasn't you -- " She paused, turned to look at her sister, then turned back again.
"There's just so much you don't know. Things before you were born." Radhika moved forward, slowly, to sit on her mother's lap, facing her, straddling her thighs and placing her hands on her shoulders. "I want to be a part," Suman continued. "I'm sick of all the tension, too. I just haven't known how -- " "Just relax and be a part," Radhika blurted out, impulsively pressing herself against her mother's breast and wrapping her arms around her neck, her face buried in Suman's rich, black tangle of hair. "I don't know how else to say it, " she said, her words muffled in her mother's curls. "I don't know 'how' either. We just have to let it happen."
Suman reached up to take our daughter's face in her hands and pull her back just far enough to look into her eyes. Both gazed at each other in soulful silence for a moment, until, with nearly animal force, Radhika clasped her mother hard again and pressed her lips to Suman's in a deep and passionate kiss. Suman uttered a moan, relaxing into her chair; our daughter's towel fell loose to crumple around her waist, exposing her creamy, white, apple-sized breasts; and Radhika relentlessly darted her tongue deeper and deeper into her mother's mouth with what seemed to be a
Feeling awkward, embarrassed, and unbearably aroused all at once, I looked away, turning to face Geetanjli. Her mouth hung open, her tongue now and then delicately touching her lips, her eyes glued to her sister and her niece. She, too, was aroused; her chest rose and fell in short, fast breaths; her hands were invisible beneath the table. By now, Suman's crop- top was pulled up to expose her pendulous,
olive breasts; mother and daughter tugged nearly violently at each other fondling, squeezing, stroking as though they'd fought for years to keep their hands off each other, and had finally given in to desire. Then suddenly, Radhika jumped off her mother's lap to stand beside her, facing all of us. The towel fell to the floor to fully expose her body; her pink nipples stood out, erect, as her breast heaved
excitedly; and her pelvis, with its beautiful black patch, undulated enticingly as she stood. She extended her hand to her mother and said, " Please -- please
let's go to the bedroom."
Both of them were by now unconscious of anyone else in the room. Wordlessly, Suman took our daughter's hand and, without so much as looking back at us, followed her out of the room -- and they were gone. By now, I suffered a painful erection, stifled by jeans that suddenly felt unbearably tight. My mouth hung open as I stared blankly into my sister-in-law's face. She, too, seemed numb; she stared back at me in silence, until finally, in a hoarse whisper, she spoke. "I'm so fucking horny right now I can't stand it." "Me too," I said, my voice equally hoarse, subdued. I stood, turned away from the table, and walked into the kitchen -- and just stood
there, my back to Geetanjli, my mind paralyzed, my lund struggling in vain to stand up in its pants. In a moment, Geetanjli was there, her body pressed to my back, her
arms wrapped around me, her hands clawing at my chest and belly, her breath hot on my neck. I pulled myself free and turned to face her. The shirt was gone, and she stood there wearing only the tiny white panties. Her breasts, much smaller than her sister's, heaved beneath her short breaths, and her dark nipples stood out long and erect.
"We can't do this," I said, moving backward, my voice pained by the fire in my pants. "You're family." She gasped and, with an incredulous look on her face, said, "And your daughters aren't?" I looked away from her eyes, looked at the floor. She had a point, for Christ's sake. She moved forward to press me against the wall. With her body glued to mine, her hand squeezing desperately at the hardness in my pants, and her face just inches from mine, she looked me deep in the eyes and pleaded. "I've been fucking a child, and no one else, for over a year." She seemed to be near sobbing as she whispered forcefully. "I need a man. I need a real man!"
By now she had loosened my pants, and my lund, fully erect, began to take over my brain as she pulled at it hungrily with her hands. "We can't do this," I whispered.
"It isn't right." "Oh dear God, " she said, "we'll sort all that out later!" She pressed her lips hard against mine, darting her tongue around in my mouth, and instinctively, I grabbed the cheeks of her slender Gand and pulled her even closer to me. I was by now beyond resisting.
In minutes, we were on the carpet of the dining room floor, rolling around like hormone- crazed teenagers grabbing at each other with inexperienced passion.
While I rarely gave it any thought -- while, that is to say, I had long ignored it out of conscience -- I had always been wildly attracted to my wife's sister, and it seemed now that all that desire was being uncontrollably unleashed. I broke free of her animal grip to move my head to her crotch, where I all but tore off her panties to bury my tongue in her already sopping vagina. Looking upward as I flicked my tongue in circles around her clit, I watched as she frantically squeezed at her
breasts and pulled at her nipples with her fingers, and bit at her lips in an attempt to suppress her groans. Her pelvis bucked violently in my face as she came the first time, her juices and my saliva soaking her neatly-trimmed patch. I pressed
her belly down with my hand to hold her still as her orgasm came in whimpers and sobs, while she covered her face with her hands, and her head flailed wildly from side to side. When she at last came to rest, I raised myself up to my knees, my
nine inches standing straight up over her belly. Not yet fully recovered, Geetanjli was still panting when she whispered, "It really is that big, isn't it? I always thought she was making it up."
The "she" made me again suffer a flash of conscience as I thought of my wife, but there was no going back. I lowered myself over my sister-in-law, and stared into her eyes as she lay there staring back. I could find no words, and said none. But the mutual desire we felt was as loud, in its silence, as it needed to be. Reaching down with my left hand, I pressed the head of my lund to her wet opening as she raised her knees and spread her legs to accommodate me. "Dear God," she whispered, "dear God, a real lund. You have no idea how long it's been. Please.... just please mujhe chodo!" With no thought of exhibiting skill or providing pleasure, my lund threw itself selfishly, forcefully, into the warmth around it and began pounding, hard and deep, as I stared into my sister-in-law's eyes.
My lips closed over hers, my tongue violently exploring her mouth, as I fucked her mercilessly -- angry, in a ridiculous way, at her violation of a family "trust; " and consumed, to a depth that surprised me, by what evidently had been a long suppressed desire to have my wife's sister. Geetanjli pulled her lips away and turned her head to the side, and shifted her butt to suddenly wrap her long, athletic legs painfully around my waist, locking her ankles together behind me.
Her cunt seemed to rise hungrily to meet each of my thrusts as she approached another orgasm -- and once more, her breath quickened and she bit her lips to suppress the whimpers and tiny screams that nevertheless escaped her as she became motionless, locked tightly around me, with only her Cunt muscles contracting in great squeezes and twitches as she came. At last she relaxed, falling limp beneath me, as she released the last gasp of her orgasm. And by now, I could last no longer, and pulled out just in time -- flinging three twirling white ropes of semen, one after the other, across her belly and onto her face as my loins spasmed in agonizing pleasure, and my lungs let loose a great, uncontrollable groan.
Frantically, Geetanjli sat up, grabbed my lund, and enclosed her mouth around it, sucking dry the last spurts of my cum as though it were precious liquid not to be wasted. It was just then, as my last spasms played out in the wet warmth of her mouth, that we heard it. Beginning as mere distant whimpers that grew quickly into groans, and then to piercing screams from far down the hall, my daughter and my wife apparently found pleasure at once -- their voices, and now finally their hearts, I hoped, at last joined indistinguishably together... I lay, exhausted, on my back on the floor, my sister-in-law sitting beside me, staring into my face, fiddling idly with my spent lund. It was amazing, looking at her beauty -- so different from her
sister's, yet so like her sister's that I felt as though I'd just made love to a different incarnation of my own wife. "You are a very lucky man, Raj Braun, " she said softly, looking into my eyes, her hand now twirling the hairs of my chest.
"I suppose I am, " I said after a time, closing my eyes and searching the recesses of my still-guilty conscience. "But I think we all have a lot of talking to do."
"Maybe we do, " she said, kind of distantly. "But," she went on, more
generatively, " -- and open your eyes and look at me - - we have a lot of living to do, too. That's the important part. Remember that." In her eyes I saw her, I saw my wife, and I saw my daughters, all at once. And I agreed silently in myself that perhaps she was right.