Hello there,
Obligatory - long time lurker, first time poster... fair warning - a slow burn, so if you want instant gratification then this may not be for you.
I am a 41 year old professional working in Delhi currently. This story happened over two decades and change ago when I was still a teenager. I have had a varied sexual history and this is the story where it all began.
My father was working in a tea garden in the North East. I used to study in boarding schools due to the insurgency and general unrest in the area. I remember being a very horny and sexually alert boy that somehow managed to keep a good boy persona for my own sake and the sake of my parents. Hormones ran wild and the fact that it was an all-boys boarding school did not help. At that age, every teacher and every decent looking female of the opposite sex appeared eminently desirable.
The players: Me, my father's immediate subordinate (around 40 years old at the time), and his lissome wife (around 23-25 years old) - lets call her P.
Let me describe P for you. She was married to her husband through arranged marriage - commonplace in the society and dynamics of the time. Her husband was known to my father for over a decade by this point. He was a genial guy, although he was prone to a fit of temper after a few drinks of alcohol. Spoke a little too much and sometimes more friendly than was warranted - but over all, a decent fellow - I got along well with him. Now P was married to him probably because he seemed to be well settled and in a decent job, with decent perks. Right from the outset, I liked her and I like to think that she liked me too. There was banter, as I was probably the closest to her in age and other ladies in the tea-garden were all middle-aged moms with kids. She may have been lonely and starved for human company and attention. Her husband spent most nights with my dad and their colleagues, sometimes discussing work, and at other times sharing a few drinks and smokes.
Over a period of a couple of years, we became close and it was commonplace for her to visit my house to meet my mother and I, or for me to go to her place to meet her or for snacks - nothing out of the ordinary. Now, I was pretty active in school and played various sports; she too apparently had been a sportsperson in school and college, and had represented her college in football, no less. She was about 5'4", tight body from years of physical activity, generous breasts that were not quite perky but did not sag from their weight. When she would wear sarees, her midriff was generally hidden but would sometimes tantalise with visible abs. She had long legs hidden in traditional wear and I would often imagine how they would look unclothed.
About six months prior to the event in question, I was home on summer break. As was usual, I had gone over to her place and we were playing cards and board games to while away time. I do not exactly remember the specifics, but at one point, we started doing stretches - it may have been her who complained of discomfort in her back and I suggested that she arch her back on the bed supported by her hands and feet. While doing so, she mentioned that she had done some yoga and this reminded her of a pose. My repartee (at least that is what my teenage hormone addled brain came up with) was to tell her that her position wasn't correct. She asked me to tell her what was incorrect about the pose and I (very generously) offered to correct it for her.
What followed was heaven. I began by adjusting her back to arch even further towards the ceiling. I proceeded to tell her where she should feel the stretch in her back, rib cage and then pelvis. As I was speaking, I gently touched the places mentioned with the palm of my hand.
There was no resistance from her.
Suitably emboldened, I began to trace my palm from her collar bone, between her breasts down to her pelvis, finally cupping her mound in the second pass. She moaned but didn't utter a word of discouragement. Her mound appeared to throb - whether it was my hand or just my overactive imagination, I will never know. All I could process was the feel of her skin through her flimsy salwar. Somehow the cloth barrier only accentuated the electricity being felt by me. My little brain was doing calisthenics by now. Bolder now, I traced my hands back and cupped her full breasts - ladies and gentlemen, first contact with the most wondrous appendages known to man! Unfortunately, that is where her stupor broke and she, seemingly flustered, asked me to wind up and go home for lunch as her husband too would be back soon. I was elated, yet terrified - what if she told my mom? I rushed home and relieved myself in a frenzy. The remainder of my holiday, I met her alone a few times but did not gather the courage to repeat our shenanigans from earlier.
The Stage: Six months or so later, I was visiting my folks on winter break from the school. My parents are pretty religious and spiritual and used to follow a spiritual guru, who had an ashram nearby. There was a celebration and they insisted that I accompany them. Not being religiously inclined then (full-on atheist now), I protested but my parents won out. I was NOT looking forward to wasting a precious day of my holidays in an ashram when I could spend it playing cricket with my friends. Anyway, we started out early morning and reached the ashram to participate in the festivities. Lo and behold! Who but P was there to participate in the same! Well, I was glad I had someone to talk to - but, a combination of my parents hovering over me, telling me where to go and whom to bow to, ensured that our paths didn't cross except for perfunctory hellos. Post lunch, I requested my parents to be excused and be dropped home and after some wrangling, they agreed since my dad's elderly relative also wanted to leave as he was tired.
While that wasn't my intention, it was my lucky day! Who else would accompany us but P! The elderly relative insisted on sitting in the front of the Sumo, next to the driver, since he had motion-sickness. That left me and P in the backseat. Alone. Now, P had dressed demurely in a saree, and being January, it was a little chilly. So she draped herself in a shawl as she settled down in the car. As I joined her, she offered to share the shawl with me - seeing, you know, that I would be feeling cold as well.
Dear reader, congratulations! If you have read this far - I am happy to report that you hopefully will not regret staying here so long!
So, as we began the longish (2-3 hr) journey back, both, she and I fell off asleep. Half an hour later, a jolt woke me from my stupor. My right hand (innocently, I assure you), was resting on her left inner thigh. Sheepishly I looked at her and noticed her wide awake and looking straight out of the window. Here, my hand decided to listen to my little brain. My head was screaming not to do anything - our last intimate interaction was one I had replayed a million and one times in my head, and although it always resulted in me doing the deed, it was also a cautionary tale. Maybe, I was overstepping a boundary that would result in my parents disowning me, or worse - her husband accusing me and my parents resulting in repercussions for my dad's job. But as I said, my hand had decided to listen to my little brain. Over the course of the next hour, my hand played circles, triangles, squares, rectangles, and every geometrical shape learned in school, on her inner thighs - sometimes daring to move up to her overheated vagina, sometimes going down to her thighs. She didn't say a word nor looked at me - but she didn't stop me either. I noticed her breath coming in short intermittent gasps and assumed she was ok with it all.
After an age of vacillating, I finally mustered the courage to go North, where the melons hung. Now picture if you may, P was sitting to my right and my right hand was the principal culprit in our clandestine activities, so bending my elbow to get enough purchase on her boobs was an exercise in itself. While we were hidden from direct view by the shawl draped around us, the unnatural movement towards her hanging fruits would be definitely visible to anyone looking in the rearview mirror. Yeah - I did not think that deeply at all. Remember, little brain?! Anyway, as my hand snaked upwards and made first contact, her long-dormant hand appeared out of nowhere and clasped my wrist! Busted! I had pushed it too far, too soon. And now it was time to face the music. My brain wasn't braining. I came up with a hundred excuses and discarded every single one of them. And so 5 minutes passed in utter silence and statuesque stillness. I assume it was 5, it may have been 10, 15 or more. Like I said, brain was NOT braining.
Then her left hand appeared on my right wrist and guided it to her triangle. Her legs had spread apart ever so little... her left hand encouraged my right hand to trace circles where sometime earlier it was tracing the signs of the zodiac. Well, my brain began to brain a little! She whispered - 'Don't go up, we will be seen. Come home after we return to the Tea Garden'. Ladies and gentlemen, to make a male appendage twitch by words in no mean feat! This was my first experience with the same - when I say it twitched, it did so with a little bit of precum wetting my underwear. To my adolescent brain, it felt like I had cum a little - but unlike other times, my balls were full and I still wanted, strained to actually cum. Oh Glory Be! I spent the next hour or whatever was left of the journey dutifully tracing her pussy. For the first time, I was learning the female anatomy by touch. Through the saree, I felt her labia, her clit and all the wonders that awaited me and it was bliss. After we arrived home, I rushed to my room to relieve my blue balls. My underwear was already drenched in precum and I was afraid that someone would notice the smell. Luckily - no parents and the elderly relative just wanted to watch TV, so no disturbances in my Me Time. To say I came a lot would be a disservice to the volcano that erupted out of my tube! Wow! So now, adequately relieved and appropriately ready, I walked down the street to their house....
Further story if this gains traction...
Thanks for reading. Cheerio!