With her(AUNTS) lips slightly open

 Avi is my name. That fateful Sunday morning in May was a turning point in my life. My uncle's wife and her four-month-old baby arrived at our home in Durgapur, West Bengal, on that day for a three-month stay. My town is known around the world for its vibrant brocaded cotton saris. My grandpa was a sari weaver, and three of his four sons are also sari weavers. My youngest father is in charge of product marketing. He delivers samples to retail locations in Kolkata, 170 kilometres distant, and handles orders on behalf of several of the town's manufacturers. I'm not interested in becoming involved in the family company. I want to study engineering and work as an engineer. After finishing high school, I went to college to study mathematics and physics. I'm nineteen years old, which makes me a bit of an outcast in my class. That was due to the fact that I started school late. I am, however, the best student in the class, and I am certain that I will be admitted to the government engineering college in Kolkata with a scholarship. I had no idea that the visitors who were coming in for a brief stay would demolish my expectations.

My uncle is from Rupnagar, a town fifty miles distant that is likewise famed for saris, albeit Rupnagar saris are of worse quality than those made in Durgapur. He was on his way to work at a fabric business in Dhaka. He will need three months to get visas for his wife and kids. In his absence, he asked my mother, the oldest of his numerous sisters, to watch after his wife and infant. My mum consented without hesitation. Her favourite little brother is this uncle.

Our home is quite small. There is one large room on the ground floor that we call the hall. The kitchen is located on one end of the room. The stairs leading to the first floor are extremely narrow and steep. On that floor, there are two rooms connected by a narrow veranda. The hall is used by my father and mother. One of the first-floor rooms is mine. The other is unoccupied. My uncle flew to Kolkata the next evening to catch a flight to Dhaka. His wife and infant took up residence in the hall, but the smoke from the kitchen's wood fire was too much for the baby to bear. My aunt was prepared to take over the first-floor room that had become empty. However, she was unable to enlist my mother's assistance in caring for the child. My mum suffers from severe arthritis in her left hip and is unable to ascend the high stairs. My aunt said that if I could lend her a hand now and again, she would be able to cope. I said that I was capable. I was on vacation at the time, so I had all the time in the world to assist her.

The plan worked really beautifully. My aunt took the baby down in the mornings, returned after lunch, and then took the baby down again in the evenings till supper. The tiny child appealed to me. He seemed at ease with me. I rocked the cotton cradle and carried the baby whenever feasible. My aunt is a wonderful lady. She used to cover herself with a sari while nursing the baby at first, but as time passed, she became more independent. I enjoyed seeing the small child gnaw on those large breasts and bulging nipple. Yes, he seemed to be eating a good meal off of the mother's nipple to me!

I was napping in my room one day when I heard the baby moan. He never wept lustfully. I went to look into it. My aunt was comfortably sleeping in her cane chair. Her hand, which was cradling the baby's head, rested on the chair's arm, and the infant was too low to come into touch with the nipple. Without a doubt, he was grumbling. I supported the infant by placing my hand on his head and neck. That was insufficient. The nipple had to be brought to the lips. I carefully gripped the breast in my hands and raised it up. The baby took hold of the nipple and began chewing. I found myself becoming hard as the breast became soft and spongy. I felt humiliated that I had harboured such feelings for an aunt.

Holding both the baby and the breast while crouching by the side of the chair required a lot of concentration. I was so preoccupied with my work that I failed to notice aunt. After a time, I was taken aback when I did so. She was fully awake now. She was smiling and her huge eyes were wide open. She continued to smile as I stared at her in horror at the impropriety of my behaviour. She then moved her hand behind my neck, slowly raising it. She then drew my head in closer and closer to her. She kissed me on both cheeks and softly pressed her lips on my lips. I was hardening again, much to my discomfort and remorse. She instructed me to put the infant in the cloth cradle using sign language. She then motioned for me to approach her. Still using sign language, she motioned for me to take a seat on the floor in front of her. She then leaned against the chair's edge and exposed her other breast. She drew my attention to it.

'Suck,' she grumbled. I paused for a moment. She grabbed the back of my head and pressed it up on my nipple. It was caressing my closed lips.

"Suck," she repeated once again. With my lips, I grasped the nipple.

'Not like that,' she answered, pulling her lips together to hide her fangs and biting my tiny finger to demonstrate how it was done.

She said, 'Bite.' That's what I did. My mouth was filled with a salty liquid. It didn't taste anything like milk. I worked on the nipple for almost a minute before fleeing to my room. I locked the door and collapsed face down on the mattress, completely befuddled. I must have slept asleep since it was late evening when I awoke. I cleaned up and went downstairs for a cup of coffee.

My aunt was speaking with my mum as if nothing had occurred. The infant was in my mother's arms. I wanted to retire to my room, but Aunt summoned me and demanded that I sit and converse with them. My mum seemed unconcerned about any changes in me.

That night, I locked my door and went to sleep. When I arrived the next morning, Aunt was already there with the baby.

"Did you get enough sleep?" she inquired. I gave a nod. "I didn't," she said emphatically. "Suman screamed the whole night. I believe he was looking for you." I felt terrible for disappointing the baby.

"Suman will be looked after by me tonight. You are free to rest "I said.

I went for a walk. I just wandered the streets. I arrived home, ate my lunch, and then went upstairs. She beckoned me in as I was passing Aunt's door. She requested that I carry the child for a time. She was curious as to what I had done that morning in town. I informed her that I had gone to a friend's place. Being alone with Auntie made me jittery.

Aunty abruptly brought up the subject.

"You should not have fled in such a manner. To me, you're like another child. You have the same right to drink my milk as this guy "she said All of my restrained feelings burst out, and I began to cry. Aunty awoke and took the baby from my arms and placed it in the cradle. She embraced me and wiped away my tears as she sat by my side.

"I'm a nasty person," I cried. "I didn't drink as much as Suman did. I was ecstatic." Aunt burst up laughing.

'Have you kept an eye on Suman while he eats? From time to time, his small organ grows in size." It was something I had noticed as well.

'It's a normal response,' -"she said She embraced and kissed me after that. I'm embarrassed to admit that I've gone hard again.

Aunt said, "Come sit at my side." That is exactly what I did. While nursing the infant, she sat with her leg crossed, as she usually did. Aunt grabbed my shoulder and drew my head into her lap as I sat at the edge of the mattress. She uncovered her breasts and presented a tit to me in a quick movement. I gladly accepted without hesitation. I sucked exactly as she had instructed. I didn't care that I was sexually aroused. My hand was taken by Aunt and put on the other breast. I kneaded it softly. My aunt fiddled with my dothi and quickly unfastened it, grabbing my firm organ with her soft delicate spider-like fingers and holding it as if it were a stick. Then she did what I do while masturbating: she moved her hand to and for. I was approaching, and she should have sensed it by the ferocity with which I was sucking, but she persisted until I spilled into her palm; she persisted until I was finished. She rubbed her palm in my dothi before lifting me and kissing me on the lips. I couldn't react because I was too perplexed. She sat next me on the cot and stroked my bare buttocks as if I were a baby being rocked to sleep. I dozed off. Aunt woke me awake in the evening. She kissed me on the lips once more before asking me to retire to my room. I put my dothi about myself and walked to my chamber. On this particular day, I felt no remorse.

I went to the temple the following morning to see the pilgrims, particularly the ladies. When I got home, I had lunch with my aunty, who was being served by my mother. Aunt was dressed elegantly in a cotton sari. She said she had taken the infant to the temple that morning. Our town has numerous temples, and the one that my aunt frequented was closer to our house than the larger temple where I usually went. Aunt went up with Suman after lunch, while I waited in the hallway and read the newspaper. When I got up, it was far past one o'clock. Auntie's chamber door was open, but she couldn't be seen from the porch. I took a peek inside.

Aunt said, "Come in." Aunt sat on the cot, and Suman sat in the cradle. Aunt made place by her side for me. I took a seat. She took my hand in hers and moved towards me till our thighs met. She gently took my hand in hers. Her cotton sari was still on her body.

"Please lock the door and rock the cradle, Suman is wiggling," she remarked as she changed her sari. That is exactly what I did. Aunt took off her sari. She was now dressed in her blouse and skirts. She then took off her shirt, followed by her bra. Of course, I'd seen those breasts before, but they seemed to be different while she was standing. We made eye contact when she glanced up. She smiled, and I returned the grin.

"Do you enjoy it when I look like this?" she inquired. I didn't say anything and didn't make any gestures.

"Why hasn't there been a response?"

"I really like it," I said, as was the case. She unfastened her skirt tape and then she let it go. It fell. Aunt was standing before me entirely in the nude.

"You like it?"

I did not answer. My hands were trembling. Aunt spotted it. She came near to me and grabbed my hands and held it.

"Fear or excitement?"

I glanced up.

"Both?" she asked. I nodded.

She leaned down and embraced me and kissed me on the lips. She then took a step back and requested me to look at her.

"Have you seen a nude lady before?' she said. I claimed I had not.

"Come closer, sit on this stool and look at me." That is exactly what I did.

"Any comments?"

"No hair," I murmured.

"I shave," she said. "Please feel it."

I took my hand carefully towards her pussy. I touched it.

"Smooth?" she inquired. I nodded.

"You may open it and look." I softly separated the lips.

"What do you see at the top," she said.

"The love button," I said.

"Touch it, no, not with your fingertips. It is too delicate for that. With you tongue," she said. I touched with the tip of my tongue, and then I licked it. She stepped back and sat on the cot and then elevated her legs. I continued to lick. Her feet were in the air and she was shaking her buttocks repeatedly. I persisted and soon she was vibrating.

"Take gentle swipes," she murmured hoarsely. I did so and then she sighed, made clicking sounds and between heavy breaths murmured, "it's fantastic." Then she got up and pushed me to the cot and removed my dothi and grabbed hold of my cock. Her thighs were wide apart and she grasped my cock and put it in. She moved rhythmically and I must have done so too though I do not recall because I was in a trance. Then I knew I was going to ejaculate. It was then that my emotions got the better of me and I began weeping. Tears streamed from my eyes as I ejaculated and aunt was kissing me and stroking her cheeks on my wet cheek and also sucking away my tears. I could feel her tongue gently playing on my cheeks and for some reason even in that time of intense passion I was wondering how long her tongue was for it make such broad swipes of my face. Her feet were clasped round me as though she worried that I could go away. And suddenly it was all over. We moved over with aunt now on top and she whispered nice things and kissed and began kissing my face. And then we laid side by side.

I must have snoozed off because I came up with a start. Aunt was sleeping on my side cuddling me still.

"I want to go to my room," I replied. Aunt grinned and nodded. I went and laid down for a bit and then I showered and went down for coffee. For the following six weeks we were fervent lovers. She showed me how to enter from behind, and she made me come in her mouth. The first time I attempted to withdraw lest I pollute her mouth, but she held me until I had released the complete load, which she swallowed.

My days of enjoyment ended with the return of my uncle.

One day I had to travel to Kolkata to pass over certain paperwork to our lawyer. I went early in the morning and arrived home late.

"Your uncle is returned," said my mum and when I got up he was there with aunt and the baby.

"Without Avi I would not have been able to handle the baby," she stated and uncle thanked me. He gave me with a gold plated wristwatch he acquired from Dhaka. The following day they were busy touring temples. Anybody seeing the pair would not have imagined that my aunt was anything but a darmapatini (ideal wife) (perfect wife). My confidence in women was utterly gone. They departed the following day.

I knew God would punish me for having engaged whole-heartedly in incestuous encounters with my aunt. Some times I imagined that I was a leprous beggar sitting at the entrance of our enormous shrine. God did punish me but it happened one step at a time, which our wise men teach us is God's method. The first of them arrived soon enough.

I told you that I was a topper in my class and that I was confident that I was going to gain an engineering seat at the finest institution in Kolkata with full scholarship. When I joined after the holiday I did not find my old pals with whom I used to conduct combined studies nice company. These studious, hard working lads (I thought of them as boys now) who chuckled even when the term kidney was pronounced, were not in my league today. I needed competition to keep me operating at my best. When it was gone I slipped. I lost my top rank and in the final test could not obtain enough marks even for a seat in any engineering institution. I had no option but to pursue a diploma programme in mechanical engineering in Kolkata.

My father who seldom talked to me had a few things to say before I departed for Kolkata to attend a technical institution. For the first time in my recall he offered me some counsel. 'You are a gorgeous guy,' he remarked, 'you may easily become familiar with ladies of poor character. Be cautious.' For the first time I began to recognise that I was a good-looking person. I glanced at myself in a mirror at one of the furnishing stores. I was tall and fair and my looks were those one of the prominent movie stars. Even at that age I worried whether my beautiful looks were a burden rather than a gift.

I stayed with a distant uncle and aunt in Kolkata. The uncle was in his fifties, and his wife was in her forties. They didn't have any children. They lived in a terraced house in Kolkata' Washermanpet's Seven Wells neighbourhood. They were housed in a long, narrow room with a small side room. They cleared out some of their stock and let me take over the space. In one of the corners, there was a kitchen. In the compound, the bathroom and toilet were separate structures, as they were in most ancient houses. The toilet was a two-metre-long, two-metre-wide, unplastered brick structure with a corrugated sheet roof. It was located in the farthest reaches of the compound. The bathroom had a plastered wall but was located in a roofless area near the house. On all four sides, a six-foot-high compound wall surrounded the house. The terrace stairs were located within the hall. It had a locked door that was always shut and locked. The reason was obvious: the interior of the roofless bathroom was completely visible from the terrace.

My uncle, like my father, was a sari merchant. He, too, took sari samples to dealers, but this time to towns in Andhra Pradesh and Orissa along the main rail line that connects Kolkata and Calcutta. When the sample packs were large, I would accompany him to the Central Station to load the goods into his Howrah Mail compartment. He'd be gone for a week or even ten days at a time.

I quickly became accustomed to my new routine. For my rural legs, the technical institute where I studied was within walking distance. I did well in school and was on my way to becoming a sort of engineer. My aunt was about my mother's age, but she appeared younger because she never had children and because they lived in the city. Her demeanour was also not that of a senior citizen. She was a movie junkie who spent many afternoons in the company of one or more of her neighbours watching matinée movies. When she served dinner, she would give me her thoughts on the film. There were a couple of male celebrities who she admired. She was a cheerful woman who mumbled hit movie songs the majority of the time. Her cooking was also excellent.

Her husband was a solemn and religious individual. He did his pujas every morning when he was at home, and I've never seen him without sacred ash on his forehead. Of course, I had no knowledge of their marital status, but based on their body language, I'd say it was minimal.

It was about two months after my arrival in Kolkata on a Saturday morning. My institute was having a bad day. I awoke late because I had gone to a night show the day before. I was taking a bath when I noticed someone on the terrace out of the corner of my eye. I didn't look up, but I was able to get a faint image of the person above by placing the stainless steel vessel I used for pouring water on myself in a specific way. Aunt was the caller. I was ecstatic. I fantasised about making my organ as large as possible and flaunting it. I rubbed it like I was masturbating, but I didn't finish it. Until my bath was finished, I kept my organ erect. The terrace door was locked when I entered the room.

Breakfast was served by Aunt. I smiled and made eye contact with her. I thought she smiled back a little nervously. From then on, whenever I had the opportunity, I bathed when aunt could come up and look. She did it occasionally, but not always. I was relieved to learn that my movie-obsessed aunt has a new source of entertainment.

On Fridays, Aunt would take an oil bath. She appears to have skipped a Friday and taken an oil bath on Saturday, my day off. She sat on a stool, surrounded by a bowl of perfumed oil. She then requested that I rub oil on her head. Many women ask younger men to do it because men are better at rubbing it than women. That is something I have done for my mother. Aunt swayed and moaned as I shampooed her, so I must have done a good job.

"Now I'm going to take a bath; when I called, you came and removed the oil that you rubbed into my hair so well," she explained. I waited outside the bathroom and went inside when she called. I expected her skirt to be tied at the armpits, but she was completely naked. She sat on a wooden plank that had previously been used to wash clothes. She bowed her head to the wall, as if ashamed of her nakedness.

My hands were trembling with fear as well as sexual arousal. She was facing the wall and crouching so low that she didn't appear immodest. I kneaded her hair and applied a generous amount of soap-nut powder paste to her scalp with my fingers. I did an excellent job on it. After that, I rinsed the paste out of her hair and pulled her hair back into a chignon at the crown of her head. So far, I've been standing behind her. I should have offered to leave at that point. I didn't do it. I took the soap cake in my hand and rubbed it all over her back. She should have asked me to leave at that point. She didn't do it. I rubbed her back for the first time, as I'm sure she'd never had her back rubbed before. After that, I washed off the soap from her neck, cheeks, and face. Aunt kept her eyes tightly shut the entire time, even after I had washed the soap away. I had moved from behind her to beside her. Her crouch had loosened, and I could see her breasts, a lovely pair that had never suckled, uplifted. She was knelt, her knees fully flexed. With her lips slightly open, I could see her pussy. It was now time to make a choice. I took a step forward.

I slathered soap over her upper chest with abandon. I motioned for her to go from the plank to a low stool in the restroom. She walked up to the stool and sat down. She didn't conceal her pussy with her hand. I then meticulously bathe her breasts, taking special attention to the tits by twisting and straining them. Aunt made no objections of any kind. After that, I soaped the abdomen but not the pubic area. As I soaped her thigh, particularly the inner side, and the leg, I instructed her to straighten one leg. I did the same with the other lower leg. I made a lather in my palms before going for the pussy. Aunt did not only not flinch when I washed it, but she also lowered her knees and spread her thighs. I made up more lather from her thin pubic hairs and applied it to her inner lips and slit. Aunt was oblivious to the fact that she was receiving all of my attention. I was completely aroused at this point. When I went for the clit, Aunt replied for the first time. She groaned while bending her knees to the extremes and spreading her thighs. My inhibitions were shattered by her reply. I flipped off my dothi and hoisted her, holding her by her folded legs, onto the lavatory ledge, laying her buttocks on the ledge. Her back rested against the wall, her feet were up, and her hips were spread out wide. I walked up to her. She reacted, and orgasms ensued, before she handed me another. She didn't say anything the whole time. She sat with her eyes closed while I bathed her. I towelled her after I cleansed myself. I put her in her skirt and escorted her down the hall. She took over when I removed her skirt and powdered her. Still, she didn't say anything and we never looked each other in the eyes. I walked away from her and went to my room. I could hear her making lunch in the kitchen.

Then she said something. She summoned me for a meal. After that, we established eye contact. She flushed and averted her gaze. We embraced and kissed each other after that. She murmured, "My dear, my own lovely darling."

A twenty-year-old boy and a forty-five-year-old lady lived the sex lives of married couples for the following two years. When my education ended, I accepted a job in Manpur and moved away. During the year and a half that I was in Manpur, both my father and mother died. I worked in a variety of locations before landing on a tea farm in Darjeeling.