Summer of Indian Aunties Ch. 01

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bbc

Chapter 1 — The Arrival

Indian nephew plans to spend summer at a remote lodge with his aunts

My mother has three brothers — all of them way older than her. This story involves their wives (my aunts) and me, one summer when I went up to their lakeside lodge. In Urdu, we call a maternal uncle (the brother of one’s mother) a mamu (maternal uncle). The wife of a mamu is called mamani (or maternal aunt-in-law). Therefore this story is the story of my beautiful mamanis and me.

We are an Urdu speaking family, originally from Lucknow in India, but settled in Kolkata (formerly known as Calcutta) for a long time. My father is a government employee and my mother works in a big corporation as a secretary. Ours isn’t a very rich family, somewhat middle class, but my mamus are all extremely well off. My mother’s brothers together runs a business making and exporting traditional Indian garments such as sari and kurta. The older two brothers are actively involved in the business, while the younger one is a doctor with his own practice, but also has shares in the business as a silent partner. All three uncles were have done quite well for themselves, especially the youngest one, being a doctor AND having a share of the thriving garments business.

As a nephew, I was very close to all of my aunts ever since I was a kid. My uncles always encouraged us to visit them, and we always did. As I grew up, those visits became less and less as we moved to Delhi and it wasn’t cheap to go by air to Calcutta. Still, whenever the occasion presented itself, I loved to visit my aunts, especially since they always gave me expensive gifts. Let me describe my mamanis.

The oldest aunt (the wife of my mother’s oldest brother) is Shaheen mamani. I call her barey mamani (which literally translates to Big Aunty). Now, Shaheen is really a big lady, almost six feet tall. If you know Indians, that’s taller than most Indian men, let alone women. Her height meant she is also heavy without being fat. She has a big build and frame, and coincidentally is even taller than her husband — my mamu. She would definitely have made a great volleyball player!

Shaheen works in my chotey mamu’s hospital — the hospital that belonged to my youngest uncle — in Kolkata as a nurse. She didn’t really need to work, of course, but she had been trained as a nurse, and she loved being a nurse. My mamu never stopped her from working after marriage, much to my grandmother’s chagrin.

As the oldest bahu (daughter-in-law) of the house, Shaheen always dressed conservatively. I always saw her in a salwar kameez, and never in Western attire, and outside the house she wears a hijab, the Muslim head covering. Now even though she wears a dupatta and a hijab, for some strange reason she wears her clothes a little tight. I guess being a big lady, she has trouble getting clothes her size in India — somewhat ironic since her husband has a clothing business!

My barey mamani is one of those ladies who has a really big butt, so her big bum always used to protrude out a lot. This was one reason why she never took the public transit in the big cities in India, as guys would somehow find a reason to rest their hand on her bum or accidentally brush against her, or pinch her surreptitiously. She once told me of the time she had been stuck in Mumbai and HAD to take a bus. That 18 minute ride to her hotel, she had confessed, had been the longest 18 minutes of her life, as men continuously groped her, pinched, her, placed a finger in her anus and even smacked her bum on the crowded and busy bus.

Shaheen also never wore a long kameez, so her top would ride up her big behind, leaving the salwar showing. With her tight bottoms, if she walked in front of you, you could make out the shape of her buttocks which would jiggle as she walked. She was always conscious of it and tried to straighten up and walk, but invariably her clothes would cling to her body, making the outline of her big butt cheeks apparent. Oh, how many men had cast an eye at Shaheen as she walked past them, her buttocks sashaying and swaying! And how many times had I just wanted to grab and grope that bum as she walked past me, and had to control my desires to do so!

When I visited barey mamani two years ago, I used to love sitting in the kitchen with her. Shaheen probably thought I was a nice young nephew giving her company, but I loved to watch her move about in the kitchen. Her big boobs would bounce about, but what made me really sit there was when she had to work with her back to me. As she would chop up the vegetables and talk family gossip, her butts would continuously wriggle. I would watch as one butt cheek pushed out against the fabric of her bottoms, while the other butt cheek would go up, and then come down while the other one now went up. The fact that she was my mamani, and there I was having dirty thoughts about her, and she was canlı bahis oblivious to it, only made it hotter.

Shaheen has a nice, long face, clear skin, light brown complexion and didn’t usually wear much makeup. Whenever I kissed her, I of course placed a platonic kiss on each of her soft cheeks, but I always wondered how it would be to press my lips against her pouty lips.

I used to touch and kiss my aunts often. I had done it as a kid, and when I grew older, I never stopped from doing it. Of course, now kissing my aunts would give me a secret thrill. I sometimes wondered if they were aware of that, and tolerated it secretly, or they were oblivious to that fact. That when I hugged them, with my arms going around their waist, that I loved doing it for not so innocent reasons.

Shaheen is also very bossy. As the wife of the oldest brother, she is the elder Bhabhi to everyone in the family and she took her role seriously. Even her husband, my barey mamu, is somewhat afraid of her and blindly obeys her. It is clear that she wears the pants in the marriage. My other mamanis also always defer to her.

Shaheen is also quite conservative and orthodox in her religious dogma. I would sometimes sit and watch movies with her, cuddling with her, but she would always have the remote in her hand. Sometimes, when watching an English movie, there would be a kissing scene, or if it was a Hindi movie there would be a raunchy song, Shaheen would fast forward through those. If I would protest, she would playfully shush me and say I shouldn’t watch those things. Of course I sometimes noticed some contradictions in her as well. If she was by herself, she loved to watch the same raunchy Bollywood songs. I had often heard her tell naughty jokes to my other aunts, or pass bawdy remarks when she was with her girlfriends and a good looking guy would cross the street, or come on the television. Sometimes she did that even if I was present.

Now about my second aunt.

Taiba mamani is the wife of my mom’s second brother. I call her majhle mamani (literally Middle Aunty) or sometimes simply Taiba mamani. Here I have to say I am quite close to her, and sometimes I would call her “Taib” or “Taibee” and she would giggle and laugh.

Now Taiba is your typical middle aged Indian lady. It is easy to imagine that she must have been a stunner when she was young. Fair skinned (she could almost pass off as a white person), sharp features, stunning jet black hair. But then, she had married early, and then let herself go. She is still fair skinned, but now she is quite chubby, with lots of meat around the middle. Even though she has big boobs and buttocks that jiggle all the time, it is mostly fat.

Now I should clarify that Taiba isn’t obscenely obese. She is just … plump. Chubby and lots of meat to grab on to, if you know what I mean. And when I say she has big boobs — her boobs were monstrously huge. Pendulous, bubbly, and ever ready to burst out of her blouse at any time. Many a times I have seen Shaheen sometimes pull Taiba to one side and whisper something to her, and then Taiba would fix her blouse or arrange her dupatta because her ample cleavage had been showing. Sometimes my other aunts would joke with Taiba about her breasts, calling her “doodhwaali” (milk woman).

I have to clarify that in no way did her plumpness reduce her desirability in my eyes. It just goes to show that every beautiful lady is fuckable, even if they had put on some weight. I could easily imagine myself humping Taiba mamani, her giant fat boobs bouncing around wildly, her belly jiggling as I would grab her love handles and plough into her, my bottom smacking against her big fat thighs. Then I would turn her over and spank those big fat butts, watching her fatty behind quiver and go red as I spanked her hard, and she would purr in ecstasy.

For some reason in my fantasies, in addition to fucking her, I would also always spank Taiba mamani, and spank her hard, until her creamy white butt was crimson red. I would then bury my nose in those butts, licking her all over, before turning her and kissing those plump cheeks on her smiling face. Oh, Taiba mamani was the woman in quite a lot of my wet dreams. Especially after she switched to wearing saris.

You see, recently Taiba mamani had started to wear saris rather than salwar kameez. It was easier for a fat — sorry, chubby — lady to wear saris then try to fit into a salwar kameez. She dressed modestly though, making sure the pallu always wrapped around her navel and waist so nothing of that showed, and outside she wore either a hijab, or made the anchal of her sari into a head covering. But that was when she was outside.

In front of me, though, she was not as careful, often leaving her navel and her big waist and tummy exposed. I watch the love handles of her skin and her belly button wobble. Whenever I would hug her I would bahis siteleri ensure I placed my hands on her bare skin and gave her a little squeeze. Sometimes when I would hug her, I would place my hands on her bum instead of her waist. She never minded, and as I said, I was quite close to her. Sometimes, when I would visit her at her place, and we were alone, she would make me sit on her lap and feed me with her own hands.

The fact that Taiba wore a sari was also hated by my grand mother, my naani, Taiba’s mother-in-law, but it was mostly due to what I call the Nadia affect.

Nadia is my chotey mamani (Young Aunty). Nadia was different from my other mamanis. For one, she was Bengali. My youngest uncle, the doctor, had fallen in love with someone who worked in his own clinic. Nadia was a licensed massage therapist and physio in his clinic.

In addition to being Bengali, Nadia is also twenty years younger than my uncle, and quite outgoing, liberal and modern in her thinking and attire. Against the vehement wishes of my mother’s family (especially my grandmother) he had married her. You would think that being a divorced man meant my uncle was now experienced enough to marry whom he wanted a second time, but no — this is India where the matriarch of the family always wants to interfere.

This was four years ago — most of the family had since grudgingly accepted Nadia, but she was always treated differently than my other mamanis. However, both Shaheen and Taiba are very fond of her. They treat her like a young sister and Nadia too is very fond of them. It also helped that Shaheen and Nadia were co-workers, since both of them worked for Nadia’s husband’s (my chotey mamu’s) hospital.

The “Nadia affect” was on my grandmother, the mother-in-law of my mamanis. Anything Nadia did, that the others copied, or anything Bengali, was automatically hated and criticized by my grandma.

Nadia works out religiously and has a very slim and athletic figure. So my naani always disparaged exercise, saying if you eat Indian food you don’t need it. Nadia is of average height, but she wears expensive chiffon saris of very thin material that clings seductively to her body, so my naani criticized her taste in clothes, saying a married woman should never wear good looking saris outside. Nadia hardly ate the traditional oily Indian foods, sticking to small portion sizes and leafy greens, and so was rebuked for it by my naani as importing “foreign values”.

When she wore her sari, Nadia would always leave her navel and tummy exposed, much to my naani’s chagrin. Wherever Nadia would go, men would stare and lust after her. Her husband — my mamu — didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he loved showing her off. He always took her to expensive restaurants, to all the boring doctor’s conferences and to expensive foreign resorts. Even though beside her, he really looked like her father. It wouldn’t be incorrect to see she was not only the youngest but the sexiest of my aunts. She should really have been in Bollywood.

As I had said, growing up for a long time as the only young nephew while all the other kids were much older, I was quite close to all of my aunts. I used to hug and kiss them whenever I met them, joke with them and engage in playful banter and light flirting with them. My aunts too loved me unabashedly and enjoyed having me around. Shaheen had been married for a long time. She had four daughters older than me, but no son, so she loved me like her own son and always doted on me. Taiba, although married for a long time, had no kids of her own, so she used to lavish love on me more than the others, and never admonished me for my straying hands when hugging her.

My relation with Nadia had a different paradigm, as she was the one most recently married, but also close to me in age. She is merely five years older than me, and whereas the other aunts loved me as a kid, Nadia treated me like a valued friend and confidant. Sometimes we went dancing together at the clubs (I wasn’t exactly known for being religious, much to Shaheen mamani’s apparent chagrin), or went to movies together.

I of course always took uncle’s permission before taking his wife out, and he was only too happy — he was busy and more over Nadia’s tastes in movies and nightclubs was much similar to mine. And I in return was always respectful to Nadia, never crossing any limits, even if we engaged in playful banter and light flirting, and even if she caused me to nurse a painful boner all the time I was with her. Especially when I was dancing with her. She is my aunt, after all.

Even though Nadia sometimes would casually rub her hands across my crotch when we were dancing, and smile at me. I would of course cringe with embarrassment and try to change the topic. Sometimes she would remark offhandedly, “I can see you are enjoying this.”

“Chotey Mamani …” I would croak, while Nadia bahis şirketleri would grin evilly.

“Don’t mamani me!” She would laugh, pressing her lips against my cheeks as we slow danced, or cupping my butt.

I never pursued those lines though. I always treated Nadia as off limits, and as for her flirting, or even seductive flirting, I simply brushed it off, much to her amusement. Sometimes, when we were dancing, she would cup my crotch, feel my obvious hardness, and whisper in my ears, “One day, Nazu … beta. One day.”

My three uncles together owned a lodge in a nice area north of the city, where they sometimes spent relaxing from the bustle of the city. It was about a three hour bus ride from Kolkata, near a village called Tinpur. During the summer, they divided it up so that someone was always there in June, July or August.

I had three months off from college in the summer, so I decided to spend two months at their lodge. I had a difficult second year in college in Delhi. Studies had been particularly hard, and a girl I was seeing had called it off, and moreover I had some issues finding a good internship work for the summer. I also hadn’t seen my beautiful mamanis for two years. I decided I would just relax and spend the summer by the lake at my uncles’ lodge.

It would also be a surprise to my aunts when they saw me, I realized. The last time I had been somewhat chubby, and not exactly very fit. But in these last two years, I had controlled my diet, worked out religiously and could honestly say I now had a very firm, fit, athletic body.

Shaheen mamani were overjoyed when I called her first and told her of my plans.

“We would love to have you here at our lodge, Nawaz!” Barey mamani gushed when I called her. “I will make all of your favourite foods.”

“Thank you barey mamani.” I replied. “You are my favourite aunt.”

“Oh, you liar!” Shaheen laughed. “I’m sure you tell that to all of your aunts.”

Never one to miss an opportunity to flirt with one of my aunts, I replied, “Nah, mamani. Only the most pretty ones!”

“My! My!” Shaheen laughed again. “Besharam! Flirting with your old married aunt, beta! Oh how I have missed you, Nazu! Now I can’t wait until you come to the lodge, beta. You are my favourite nephew.”

“I am sure you tell that to all of your nephews, barey mamani.”

“Nah.” Shaheen replied equally playfully. “Only the ones that are handsome studs.”

“Now who’s flirting?” I asked her. “If I were there right now, barey mamani, I would pinch your big bum for that.”

“Chal! Batameez!” My aunt giggled. “I think I still have a mark on my gaand from the last time you pinched me.”

I laughed. The last time I had visited her, she and I made a silly bet over something (that I now forgot) but the result was that if she had lost I would pinch her on her butt. She had lost, and when I reminded her of the bet, she playfully turned around and presented her bottom to me, never figuring out that I would actually dare to pinch her. Taiba and Nadia were there as well, and had looked on amused as barey mamani wriggled her butt at me in a dare. As for me, I wasn’t one to let go of that opportunity. I had immediately reached out and pinched her, and pinched her hard. She yelped helplessly as my fingers bit into her flesh. Both Taiba and Nadia could not help but burst out laughing at Shaheen’s shocked and embarrassed face. She had blushed a bright red, suffering the ignominy of having her ass pinched in front of everyone. Soon though, she joined in the laughter. Now whenever I wanted to playfully admonish her, I would tell her I was the owner of her bum and I would pinch her.

“I am really looking forward to seeing you again, mamani.” I told her genuinely. “I have missed you — and my other mamanis — in my life once I had started going to university here.”

“Well,” Shaheen replied, “Hopefully this summer your mamanis can rectify that, darling. And yes beta, this time I will be ready. And I will make sure I never make a bet against you. This time you pinch my bum you will get a tight slap.”

“Deal, mamani. As long as you make my favourite foods you can slap me all you like.”

“Done, beta. Get ready for lots of slaps.”

“I love you, mamani.”

“And I love you too, beta. See you soon!”

I put the phone down. I was excited. I was going to see all my mamanis, though not at the same time. At least not at first.

My uncles were not planning to go this early in the summer to the lodge, as business for some reason was very busy. But now that I wanted to go, Shaheen and Taiba would go early and get everything set up, and Nadia would join later. Shaheen and Nadia would work out the schedules and leaves in the hospital (helps when my chotey mamu was the boss and owner). My aunts wanted me to spend the summer with them in the lodge. The three aunts would divide it amongst themselves so that one of them, or more, was always there at the lodge with me. There were perks to being close to your mamanis. As for my uncles, they would join later if their business permitted.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

İlk yorum yapan olun

Bir yanıt bırakın

E-posta hesabınız yayımlanmayacak.


*