Help from daughters sexy friend-1
Sunita watched in fascination. No doubt, Shom Uncle had his back to her and he was fully clothed. But there was no mistaking what he was doing. The elderly recently widowed, father of her dear friend Deepa, and was busy stroking himself fast and hard.
His hand was holding the railing and his head was thrown back. His hand was moving in long strokes and short thrusts…. A rhythm she was familiar with for all the times she had masturbated her own husband Kunal to orgasm.
That was how she managed Kunal, when she needed to and it never took Kunal too long to come. But Shom Uncle seemed to go on for quite a bit. His hand was clearly under his dhoti and every now and then, his tall broad frame shuddered.
He paused as he relished that wave of pleasure and then gave himself a few more long strokes. As he leaned forward and sometimes back, he turned a bit which gave her a glimpse of his hand on his cock. It seemed a full fist and the head was jutting well beyond the clenched fist.
Sunita felt her throat catch, and the dryness in breathing coming from excitement. She felt a release of fluid between her legs and she shifted uncomfortably. Uncle was now hunched over. Hard strokes with the hand flying over the pillar of flesh he caressed lovingly.
Then after a few short ones his head was thrown back and she heard the groan of satisfaction in the release and frustration at being alone by himself. He shook shuddered and spasmed, for several long seconds as he came. Sunita watched in fascination as his body jerked.
As the elderly man thrust, jerked and slowed down, she heard him exhale with a long and deep sigh. Satisfaction. And then a shudder and a stifled moan. She stepped back into the shadows, her feelings a mixture of embarrassment, sympathy, excitement and illicit thrill.
She ought to have knocked or atleast, cleared her throat. She glided down the stairs as silently as she could carrying with her the tea she had brought for him. The upstairs was his lair and his preserve. She came down to the kitchen and Deepa asked her,
“Why didn’t you give him the chai?” “He was in the bathroom,” whispered Sunita and stared out of the window. Aunty had died a few months ago after a protracted illness and Sunita had come to spend time with her close friend Deepa and console father and daughter.
Deepa was now quite reconciled but clearly her father had more problems than he could discuss with anyone. She shivered involuntarily at the thought of the cock she had seen him wield and lust raged through her body when she thought of how different it looked
from what she had seen and experienced of her own husband Kunal. And then she remembered the school girl stories Deepa and she had exchanged years earlier when Deepa told her of the raucous noises from her parents room all those years ago.
Deepa had got up in the middle of the night to get some water and she had heard loud moaning noises and some slapping sounds. When she peeked through the door which was ajar she had seen her mother sitting astride her father.
Uncle had been slapping Auntie’s sumptuous ass. Her saree had been pulled aside in the typical fashion that Indian’s make love: not quite undressing but pulling aside clothes and raising skirts to accommodate the male.
Her breasts were squeezed out under her blouse and bra and Uncle had been nipping at the flesh. Auntie was screaming, “Yes! “Bite me! Maul me! Take me! Amaar ke diye!” Begging to be fucked harder and harder.
When Deepa had shared this story with Sunita they had giggled with the usual thrill that school girls have for discussing all things sexual. Now that memory came back to tell Sunita the unstated story of Uncle’s continuing sexual needs
and how the absence of Aunty was causing him to be the way she had seen him now. The rich wetness between her legs scared her. “Just take the tea for him,” she whispered to Deepa and went to her room to lie down for a bit.
As she lay back and closed her eyes she saw Uncle looming over her and she opened her eyes with a start. It was her imagination. She smiled a little smile to herself and closed her eyes again. And watched him come over her and sink his animal size cock into her cunt.
Involuntarily her legs spread and she squirmed, wondering if she would be able to take the pillar in one stroke. She caressed her lower belly, allowing herself the naughty indulgence of a very private pleasure. She rubbed herself, sighed,
turned over and slipped into a long mid morning nap. Later in the afternoon “We must be back home to serve baba his tea,” Deepa reminded Sunita. They reached home and Sunita got into the kitchen to make the tea.
Deepa got busy with unpacking the shopping and putting away things. Sunita placed the cup on a tray and got the midday paper and slowly walked up the stairs. There lay uncle sprawled on his easy chair, reading a newspaper. He didn’t see her coming.
And she didn’t have any warning of what she was going to see as she came from behind him and looked over his shoulder. Her eyes latched on to the tent in Uncle’s dhoti. And the cloth which was held up, revealed a bit from the side to show the flesh of his cock.
Sunita stood transfixed. She saw the bulge twitch from the involuntary effects of a prolonged state of arousal. She quietly set down the tray, and moved closer to her friend’s father. With one of her hands she lightly covered his mouth to let him know that
he was not expected to say anything or stop her. The other hand slipped through the gap in the dhoti and her small hand closed around the raging cock. His eyes opened wide in shock. Her throat went dry as she surveyed the dimensions of the tool in her hand.
Her fingers softly felt the skin, her thumb reached up as she held him the way one would hold a joystick of a videogame. Her thumb moved over the head and her fingers traced the line back down to the base of his cock.
Her other hand now moved from covering his mouth to the back of his head and her fingers gripped his hair. Her hands slowly slid up and down the cock and with each move the paper rustled. The rustling followed a pattern as Sunita’s hand fell into a rhythm
on the cock of her friend’s father. The man groaned. “Beti!” he said pleadingly, referring to her in Hindi as daughter for that is how he had addressed her for years now. “Ssshhhhhh, papa!” she whispered, “aap ko maloom hai ye aap ki zaroorat hai.
Aur mai to phir madad hee karne ayi hoon na?” she whispered in a kind, soft tone. (“you know you need this. And then, have I not come here to help both of you overcome what you have been through?”)
The man groaned in protest and threw his head back. Sunita continued to slide her hand up and down the pillar of flesh. First she gave him steady long strokes and then one quick jerk. Then again she went back to long strokes followed by two quick thrusts.
She kept her head down and eyes lowered. It was an act of kindness and she didn’t want to acknowledge Uncle, or that she was masturbating her friend’s father. Shom Uncle’s hands were gripping the arm rests of his chair and as his hips thrust upward his legs
stretched out under him, as pleasure shot down his legs all the way to his toes. Sunita lovingly brought her other hand to the cock and changed hands how as her other hand needed rest. She remembered Deepa’s narration of how long her dad could fuck
and also the incident of the morning that she had witnessed. Her right hand now took charge while with the left hand she caressed the underside of his penis. Pre-cum oozed over her fingers as the elderly man started to juice up.
She opened her fist to take in the fluid and use it to lubricate and continue the stroking. The wetness drove Shom crazy, he hissed, his face contorted in ecstasy as his daughter’s friend, this sexy young woman, pleasured him beyond his imagination.
His hands stretched and he surprised Sunita by slipping it under her kameez, a task made easy by the fact that she was leaning and the top was easily accessible. She gasped as she felt the fingers of his large rough hand touch her torso just below her breast.
The old man felt her breast through the lacy fabric of the bra. It was just a cup bra covering half her breast and he quickly folded down the lace edge to feel her nipple. She shuddered, her hands gripping the cock harder.
She needed this to end soon, before Deepa walked in. She couldn’t stop Shom Uncle from touching her after having made the first moves. Shom’s body was wracked with pleasure which was enhanced from the softness of her breast which he was now caressing furiously.
Shom was half sitting up from his previously reclining position in that chair. Her thumb moved over the head again and again. As he shuddered her mind quickly drew a map of his cockhead and zoomed in on the most sensitive zone.
She leaned forward and quickly focused on stroking him hard and furiously on that side of his cock, making sure her thumb ran over the head as she stroked downward. Her head was leaning forward over him.
Her kameez (top) gave him enough of a view of her soft breasts now jiggling with the effort of her stroking his cock. His hand changed orientation and he put his palm on her stomach his fingers pointing downward. She gasped. She stopped stroking him for a moment to control herself.
Her head thrown back. His fingers slid into the top of her salwar and past her panty. He stroked her hair down there, the furry patch and he felt heat and dampness as his fingers discovered her pussy. He just covered the whole pussy palming her and letting his fingers
caress rather than invade. Yes, his world was centered around the waves of pleasure emanating from within him as her silken fingers firmly yet gently moved up and down his pulsating cock. But he was not able to shrug off the thought of what he was feeling with his daughter’s friend.
The smallness of her fist somehow adding to the thought that she was in every way smaller than him, younger. a different generation. And that prevented him from letting his fingers push apart the fingers that were so clearly soaked and aching for satiation.
She shuddered and her hands moved over his cock faster. Her hair fell forward, making for a gentle screen between his lust laden gaze and her head, just over his cock. He had no way of knowing how close she was with her luscious lips to the head of his cock.
His hand rested on her head as he gently and suggestively pressed her to lower her head. She resisted taking him in her mouth though a drop of saliva from her somehow wet mouth dripped on to the cock in her fist.
She sucked in her breath and continued to hand fuck him faster and more furiously. Uncle Shom groaned loudly and closed his eyes. His legs were stretched as far as they would go and his toes were extended. His hips started to jerk and thrust violently.
But what took him over the cliff was her hand which she brought up to his chest and started stroking the hair softly. Her hands were on him everywhere. He felt the cum surging up from his insides, boiling to the surface with an intensity.
His knuckles went white as he gripped the arm rests. Sunita watched in fascination as the man under her hands twisted, turned and thrust himself. She could not close her wet open lips around his cock. Yet, something in her wouldn’t allow her to move back either.
She remained, tantalizingly close, her lips mimicking the act of taking him in and her mind reminding her of who she was with. Uncle Shom. Uncle Shom screamed as he shook, “Sunitaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Beti, yes! Yes! Faster, faster, yes there.
Oh how do you know my body, how do you know what I want. Take me there, yes, now! Oh its been so long….” Both Shom and Sunita froze when they heard Deepa at the foot of the stairs. “What’s going on up there? Papa? Sunita?” she called out.
Sunita opened her mouth to reply and found her throat choked. She cleared her throat even as with both hands alternating she made a wet sheath of rippling fingers that fucked his cock. “I am here, just helping Uncle with some clearing up,” she called out.
“But there were some noises I thought?” asked Deepa. “Oh yes!” answered Sunita as her hands slid down the cock. “He is,” she continued, sliding her hands up, “instructing me.” Her hands now stayed around the head and she rapidly jiggled the cockhead
between her network of fingers. “Telling me what to put where.” “I will send her down now, beta” called out Shom to his daughter. His hands clutched at Sunita’s back, her breast, trying to pull her closer. He was roughly trying to probe her but proving inefficient in the heat of the moment.
She pulled the skin back and allowed the head to swell, surge and jut out angry, proud, provoked – whichever. And then one slide all the way up and back again. And then again. And again. And when she slid her hand down, this time a long thick rope of cum jetted out.
It leapt towards her face and fell back uselessly onto his garment, flowing over her hand. Then again came a huge surge and another dollop of his cum. Then some shorter spurts as she urged him to empty himself.
“Oh! Yes uncle. Cum. Cum as much as you want. I am here to help you release!” she whispered. Copious amounts of fluid, now not in jerking and shooting surges, but in an overflowing abundance flowed over her fist, covering her hands.
She held him. Her hand now replaced the stroking up and down with a tightening and loosening- A squeezing effect, milking him as it were. She allowed the jerks and spasms to reduce to a pulsating, now shrinking pillar of flesh.
Shom groaned loudly as he felt the pleasure waves recede and a deep sense of relaxation wash over him. His legs once taut and stretched out, now slumped and his heels came to rest on the floor. He hugged the girl to him even as she wiped her messed up fingers on his dhoti cloth.
She opened her fist and palmed the tender sensitive flesh of his penis and sent him into ripples of pleasure. She hugged him. She was happy. The strength of his orgasm was intense and fulfilling. She was glad that she found a way through to a need which Uncle
would not have been able to speak of to anyone. And even as she justified what had just happened to herself thus, she could not ignore the illicit lust that the strong flow of fluids between her legs indicated. She rubbed her thighs together and shivered,
thinking of how she would now need to relieve herself. How she would face her friend again? And would she ever be able to come up confidently, to just serve tea? “Let’s go shopping!” said Deepa. The dull gloom of her mothers recent passing away was slowly lifting
from the Ganguly household and Deepa had a lot to thank Sunita for that. Her dear friend had come over and spent a few days and that had helped everyone overcome their grief. Especially for father, thought Deepa.
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