Eid Mubarak

Month of Ramadan was coming to an end, and the whole village was gearing up to celebrate Eid in a few days. We were in the home stretch. As any red-blooded Muslim knows, the last ten days of Ramadan are the hardest. The gruelling ritual of fasting from sunup to sundown, with no food or liquid going down one's throat, takes its toll on the Believers, especially during the last third of the month. The true test of one's faith becomes really challenging when it is summertime, and one has to work in the fields in crippling heat, as we had to do during this Ramadan.

Those who know me were amazed at how well I was facing the challenge. I managed to do all the farm work without showing any signs of fatigue due to keeping my fast. While others would spend their day sleeping under the shades of their trees, I was tending to not only our own fields, but to even the fields of our neighbour, Grandma Nasreen, who lived alone and had no family in the village. They all had moved away, some to the city where they were working, and others to some other villages, where they had been married off to, leaving her to tend to her own affairs. I had been "volunteered" to do her farming by my uncle during one of his rare charitable moments.

My faith has always been strong, and Allah has always provided me with the means to manage my fast in such a way that I did not suffer from dehydration or hunger, like others in the village. Allah has always been kind to me, and He was extra kind during this particular Ramadan. We had a healthy crop of watermelons and sugarcane. During the peak hours of the day, when heat waves could visibly be seen hovering over the fields, I would pick the ripest watermelon and cut a few sticks of sugarcane, then take my break under our very shady Peepal tree, and "strengthen" my fast. There always was enough sugar-filled pulp to satisfy my hunger, and enough liquid to quench my thirst.

It is true that I had to take a few breaks during the really hot days, but there were plenty of watermelons around, and we had a few acres of sugarcane growing; in other words, a never-ending supply of the sugary juice. Our Peepal tree was right in the middle of our sugarcane field, and I was out of sight while taking my breaks -- that I so deserved -- while working so hard. It was better for me to be out of sight during my breaks, as to not tempt others to do the same. I was probably a better Muslim that way. In addition, while they kept only one fast per day, I managed to fast three to four times in one single day. Enough to make up for the ones that I may have missed growing up.

Allah rewarded me for my dedication. He sent an angel into my life.

It was my aunt Jameela who informed me of the arrival of this angel -- nay, a hoor. She was as beautiful as a rose flower, smelled equally nice, and looked ravishing. Her bright coloured clothing stood out against the plain dress style of the women in our village.

She was sent by her mom to celebrate this coming Eid with her grandmother. She was Grandma Nasreen's granddaughter, Surreya. Her name was unique, and might I add, beautiful, just like her. When she came to join us to open her first fast in our village, I was instantly captivated by her looks. I had known her from her younger days, but now that she had grown into a woman -- a woman of marrying age, I might add -- she had turned into a stunning and gorgeous creature. [Note to moderators: We are all over eighteen. Some even well into their twenties.]

My aunt Jameela told me to stop staring at her, but I couldn't. My eyes kept darting back to her every time I looked away. I may just be imagining things, but I think she smiled at me during one of those moments when our eyes met. Even though it was dark around the cooking area, and the light from our lantern was not strong enough to show me her features, but I could swear that I saw her lips stretch into a faint, but knowing, smile. I think my aunt also saw it. I could tell from her frown.

Ramadan became even more blessed than usual. I found myself rushing home towards the evenings so I could be there when she came to join us every evening for the opening of the fast. I even started praying the evening prayer. It was a tad difficult because I had forgotten all the Surahs that I had memorized when I was a kid. I would move my lips as if I was reciting something, I mean nobody knew that I was just saying gibberish. I would say Aameen really loud and raise my finger aggressively when doing the final part of the prayer. The rest of the time I was just thanking Allah for the excitement that He had sent my way and ask for His forgiveness for being a bad Muslim. I was trying to impress Surreya with my devotion to Allah and to show her that I was a pious man, worthy of her hand in marriage. That's how we roll in the village that I am from.

I don't know what happened, but after the 27th of Ramadan, she stopped joining us. Nobody told me why, and when I asked my aunt Jameela, she just waved me off. Boy, was I heartbroken! When the Eid day finally came, I didn't feel like rejoicing like the rest. The whole village was abuzz with joy and excitement, as the month had thankfully, finally ended and we could all get back to a normal routine. We could finally eat and drink without worrying about going to Hell, and we could finally do other things that are forbidden during the holy month.

I was getting ready to go to the mosque for the Eid prayer, but my heart wasn't into it. I was feeling depressed. It had been days since I had seen her. I didn't even know why she had stopped visiting us. I couldn't go visit her myself, as being a male, I wasn't allowed to associate with a female, without causing a scandal. Such is our culture.

I was in my room, just staring into space, when I heard some choorian clanking outside my door. Suddenly, Surreya appeared and came quickly towards me. I stood up as she reached closer and before I had a chance to say anything, she gave me this huge hug. I was a little confused and a lot dumbfounded. Suddenly, all I could feel were her breasts firmly pressed against my chest. Then, as quickly as she had embraced me, she pulled away, and in her singsong voice said, "Eid Mubarak!"

Poof, she was gone as quickly as she had appeared. I had to catch my breath as I stared out the door. I couldn't believe the nice, soft feelings of that Eid Mubarak on my chest. It was like an angel -- I did say she was an angel -- had opened a door to the Jannat for me, as I had these sweet heavenly feelings coursing all through my body. The aroma of her perfume was on me, and it was floating gently in the air as well, as my senses took it all in. I don't want to say that I was aroused, but there were definitely some feelings down there as a result of that embrace.

I couldn't move. I just stood there reliving her hug in my mind, over and over. I tried to keep the feelings of her breasts permanently etched on my chest. Then I heard the clanking of those choorian again. I tensed up, hoping, wishing, praying that she had come back to give me a second Eid Mubarak.

Boy, was I disappointed to find that it was actually my aunt Jameela, instead of Surreya. I looked at her in a sort of displeasing way. I don't think she even noticed. She asked me, "What was Surreya doing here?"

I had to collect myself before answering her, "Oh, she just came to wish me Eid Mubarak."

"I see," she replied, but she seemed lost in some weird thoughts. I am sure she could smell Surreya's perfume still in the air.

After a long pause, and looking right through me, she finally said, "I guess I should say Eid Mubarak to you, as well."

Now, this part is very important. When we hug anyone of the female persuasion who also happens to be a family member, it is common for us to give a superficial hug. Our hugs are never the kind where our chests make contact. Since I am taller than my aunt, I usually bend a little down, our necks make some contact while keeping the bodies away from each other, and I just touch her shoulders with my hands.

As she came closer, I bent forward to receive her Eid Mubarak. Imagine my surprise when she said to me, "Don't bend."

I stood there suspended in space, half bent forward, not knowing what to do next.

"Don't bend. Stand up straight," she said it again. I stood up straight.

She put her arms around me and gave me an Eid Mubarak hug, just like Surreya's hug. There I was, with my aunt's breasts pressed into my belly, their softness emanating upward to my brain, and to my shame, downward to my... well, can't finish that thought. It was my aunt, after all. Even though her breasts felt as good as those of Surreya's, maybe even better, but I couldn't bring myself up to feel aroused.

What pissed me off was the fact that the feel of her breasts had replaced the sensations of Surreya's breasts on my chest. My aunt is shorter than Surreya, so her breasts pressed lower, in the middle of my belly. Since the feel of her breasts was fresh, the feel of Surreya's breasts quickly faded away. I tried very hard to hang on to the first feelings of softness, and the resulting warmth, but all I kept feeling were my aunt's breasts. They were also soft, and they also made me feel warm, but the associated guilt made it a lot less pleasing.

There was a huge meal planned for our Eid lunch. Both families ate together. I tried to catch Surreya's eye, but she kept looking away. She came back at dinnertime to say her farewell, as she was planning to take the early morning train to go back. I felt this weird sense of loss, as if I had lost my opportunity to develop something meaningful. We had a lot left unsaid.

I was in my room that night, moping, and feeling sorry for myself. Everyone had turned in and gone to their beds. I was somewhat startled when I heard the sound of choorian approaching. I hoped with all of my will for it to be Surreya, that she had decided to sneak in, to be with me for one last time, but alas, it was my aunt Jameela.

It is not normal for her to visit me like that, so I didn't know what to do. I thought maybe she had something that needed to be done, and she was going to ask me to go and do it. May be one of the animals had freed itself from the rope tied to its neck, and I needed to put it back in the room.

I waited for her to say something, but she seemed a little hesitant. Then after a while, she cleared her throat, and asked, "Did you like the Eid celebration?"

I was taken aback. I was expecting something else, some sort of inconvenience, but she was making pleasantries. I replied, "Yes, it was nice. I had fun."

"Too bad your fun is leaving early in the morning," she replied with some sarcasm, and what seemed like a lot of derision.

I answered somewhat sheepishly, "Well... it wasn't just her. We all were part of the celebration, and that is really what made it fun." After further thought, I decided to add, just on a whim, "You were a big part of that celebration. That did make a big difference. Seems like you did all the hard work." Which was actually true. All the food preparation and cooking was done by her and she'd handled that part expertly.

She was quiet for a while. She seemed lost somewhere. I waited for her to say something more, to continue the conversation in some way, but she didn't. I asked her, "How was it for you? Did you have fun?"

"Yes, it was good," she replied somewhat quietly. Then she said, "Ok. I came to say Eid Mubarak one more time. It is almost over and tomorrow we'll be back to normal."

I stood up to receive my Eid Mubarak. Out of habit, I started to bend down, when she said, once again, "Don't bend. Stand straight."

I did, and she pressed herself into me. I could tell that this Eid Mubarak had more feelings than the one from that morning. It just felt more... well, just more. It felt more than it had felt in the morning, whatever that may mean.

I hesitated at first, but because she was holding me with her arms around my back, I also placed my arms around her shoulders. This brought her even more into me, and her breasts dug deeper than before into my belly. I even felt her thighs press into my legs. I couldn't help but wish for her breasts to be against my chest, but I accepted whatever was being given to me.

That was a full "Eid Mubarak". I sensed there was a change in her mannerism about us. I just wasn't sure what it was and what it really meant. It wouldn't be wrong to say that she put all of herself into it, I mean into me. It also lasted longer than the morning one. I didn't know how to react, or what to do, or if should do anything or just stand there until she was done.

Wow, what an Eid Mubarak wish that turned out to be. The guilt couldn't keep my arousal down. It was expressing itself somewhat openly. There was some commotion inside my chadar. I decided to pull away before she could feel my arousal, as it was protruding outward and towards her, at somewhat of a quickened pace. I was getting hard. My dick was getting hard when I felt my maasi's breasts pressed into my belly. The softness of her breasts caused a hardness in me. The feelings were nothing short of magical.

She was gone shortly thereafter, and I was left flustered. It turned out to be a very strange night for me, as I tried my best to hold on to the feelings of her boobs on my belly. The sensations stayed with me for a very long time that night.

When I woke up the next morning, Surreya was gone. Our household went back to normal, with our assigned chores to be performed like clockwork. Nothing was said of the Eid Mubarak wishes. It was like nothing had happened, nothing unusual that is.

Next Eid, the Big Eid, was two lunar months and ten days away. My uncle shopped around for a qurbani. It was a male goat. We fed it, pampered it, and fattened it up. Before we knew it, the old Imam was announcing on the mosque loudspeakers that the moon had been sighted, thus beginning the countdown to the next ten days when it would be the start of the three days of Eid celebrations. First Eid, or Small Eid, is only for one day. Second Eid, or Big Eid, goes on for three days, to give everyone a chance to do the qurbani, just in case.

The practical reason behind the three-day celebration is to distribute the meat properly, without letting it go to waste. Every qurbani requires that we portion the meat into three parts. One for the family, one for the relatives, and one for the poor and needy. If we do our qurbani, then we give meat to our relatives. If they do their qurbani at the same time, then they'll give us their meat at the same time and that would end up wasting the meat. Afterall, we can only eat so much in one day. The three-day celebration thus extends the meat over three days, especially if we have a lot of relatives who also do the qurbani.

That night, as everyone had turned in, I heard those choorian again, coming to my room. My aunt Jameela came to my room that night. She hadn't come there since her last Eid Mubarak. I didn't expect her to come, and as soon as she got there, she seemed a little unsure about being there. It almost looked like she wanted to turn around and leave, but since I was already aware of her presence, she had to say something.

She seemed a little embarrassed, and with a sheepish smile on her lips, she said, "You know, when I heard the announcement that the moon had been sighted, I came to say Eid Mubarak. But now that I am here, I realized that Eid is not for another ten days. Now I feel foolish."

"Don't worry. It was an honest mistake. We'll wait until it really is Eid," I smiled, and instantly realized that I had messed it up. I should have just said that it was okay, and we could say Eid Mubarak, even though it was not Eid. But it was too late. She had turned around quietly, and just like that, she was gone.

The next ten days were as excruciating as the last ten days of the month of Ramadan had been. The time just wouldn't move, and the days just wouldn't end.

They eventually did. It was the evening before the first day of the Big Eid. This time I waited for the choorian to sing. They eventually did, but I had to wait for a very long time. Maybe she had forgotten and only remembered it after a while. In any case, she did come, and I was ready for our Eid Mubarak.

Her hug was strong and firm. I returned the favour by putting my arms around her shoulders and squeezing her tight. She pressed hard into my belly. I felt her breasts all over my body, if that was even possible. She has big boobs, and they felt nice. I held her tight, and I was hard in no time. I was glad that my chadar kept my erection under control and away from her body. I didn't want her to feel it and then pull away.

She whispered "Eid Mubarak" to me but tripped over her words because she was a little out of breath. Her breathing was hard and forced, as was mine. I guess the excitement of our "Eid Mubarak" had made our blood rush a little -- a lot, in my case -- faster and thus our lungs had to work harder. The work of her lungs was more visible than mine, as her boobs were heaving up and down with her elevated breathing.

I was still asleep the next morning when she came to my room again. She had to gently nudge me to wake me up, and before I could say anything, she put her finger on her lips to signal that I should keep quiet. She whispered that she wanted to be the first to say "Eid Mubarak" to me on the actual day of this Big Eid, on the first day of the Eid. Everyone else was still asleep and it was still fairly dark.

I got off my sleeping cot and stumbled a little, because I was still half-asleep. She caught me quickly and suddenly we were in our "Eid Mubarak" embrace. I was sporting a nice morning-wood, and her body only increased the sweetness flowing all through my body. Something about her felt different, she felt different, but I couldn't quite figure it out with all that fog on my brain. I held her tight though, and I held her firmly against me. She reciprocated with a strong hug. It really felt different than before and to make matters worse, I could feel my erection pressing into her body. I am sure she must have felt it as well.

I wasn't sure how she was going to react to feeling my erection against her. It wasn't really my fault, as she had caught me somewhat off-guard. I wasn't in full control of my senses, so I didn't quite know what was happening. She held on, though. She didn't move, or pull away, or do anything to show her reaction to my erection -- that kind of sounds funny -- her reaction to my erection. Her only reaction was that she caressed my back a few times with her hand spread wide open.

She came for our "Eid Mubarak" that evening, and her hug was equally a full hug. I did not notice any change in her hug or in her demeanour. I guess she probably hadn't noticed my erection when it had pressed into her that morning. I am sure if she had felt my cock pressing into her, she would have behaved differently, in some way. But she didn't.

I did notice that the Eid Mubarak in the evening felt very different from the one in the morning. I couldn't figure out the reason, but there was a distinct difference in the overall feel. Since this Eid was for three days, I expected her to come again the next morning, and I was going to pay closer attention to our hug and to figure out why her morning hug was so different from her evening hug.

I was up early on the second day, and I was actually waiting for her when she arrived. I was not half-asleep, or groggy. Instead, I was fully alert when she came, and I opened my arms and held her tight against my body.

I knew that we were way past the actual "Eid Mubarak" wishes. Our "Eid Mubarak" was not really about a simple Happy Eid wish. We were at a whole different level, and there was more to our hugs than just straightforward pleasantries. I didn't mind that at all, whatever it was, and I enjoyed every moment of it.

Her morning hugs definitely felt different from her evening hugs, and I wanted to find out why. It was mainly around the front, where her chest made contact with my belly. I felt different in the mornings than I had felt in the evenings. Her breasts felt softer, plumper, and a lot more fluid than in the evenings, where they would be more firm, somewhat harder, and maybe even rigid.

I held her for a longer time than usual. I tried to absorb as much of the good feelings as I could. I even moved my body ever so slightly to make her breasts caress my belly. During that time, I had developed a firm erection, and it was pressed into her body. She didn't react in any negative way, other than her firmer caresses on my back, so I settled into the hug wholeheartedly. Her breasts felt really nice and whatever stimulation I got from my erection rubbing against her, I enjoyed it immensely.

When we finally pulled away, and I had a chance to look at her, I realized that her breasts were hanging differently and had a different shape. It occurred to me, after seeing them move freely, that in the mornings, she wore no bra, while in the evenings she had a bra on. That's why her breasts felt very different, softer, more fluid, in the mornings, and rigid in the evenings.

That was quite a revelation for me. After she was gone, and while I was trying to calm myself down, another revelation hit me. If I was feeling so nice and sweet, then she must also be feeling nice and sweet. If I had an erection, then she must be having something that would be equivalent of an erection in a woman. If I was sexually aroused, then she must also be sexually aroused. She probably wanted our "Eid Mubarak" hugs for the same reason that I was into them.

She must have felt my erection, and she must have been okay with it. She was okay with my cock touching her, even though it was through the cloth material covering each of us. Still, she must've known what it was, and she was okay with that. My aunt was okay with my dick pressing into her. Just the thought and the implications of that thought made me feel really excited and really aroused.

It was an incredible thrill to know that she was open to our sexual contact. For all practical purposes, we were just wishing each other "Eid Mubarak", but in reality, we were getting something more, and something very different. There was plausible deniability, but we were having our cake and eating it too.

That gave me the idea that I probably could try something out, without risking any reprimand from her. Oh, God! I couldn't wait for the evening to come. I wanted to nudge the line a little further and see if she would go along with it.

That evening, when I held her in my arms, I tried to "listen" to her body. I held her tight, but this time I caressed her back, slowly and gently, as she was caressing mine. It felt good to have her breathe on my chest, and to feel her heartbeat on my belly. I didn't press my erection into her because I was more focused on her body and on my hands. Her back felt really good under my touch. I exaggerated my strokes and covered the lower part of her back and even touched the upper part of her buttocks. Still, she didn't say or do anything to discourage me.

I noticed that she was squirming a little. It wasn't so much as her entire body, but just the area in the middle. She was rubbing herself against me, slowly and determinedly. It was almost like she was looking for something, or rather, she was feeling around for something. When she eventually pulled away and wanted to leave, I stopped her and asked her to wait. I looked around and found a peerhi, which is a small square wooden cot, with four legs to support our weight as we sit on it during cooking, washing dishes, or when eating our meals. It is usually a foot or so high, and it can be used to stand on if we need to reach a little higher than our height would allow.

I brough it to where we were both standing and asked her to stand on it. She seemed a little confused, but she did stand on it. I then reached forward, wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her into another hug. Her increased height put her chest squarely against my chest, so that her breasts were pressed against my breasts. Her belly pressed against my belly, and her thighs firmly against my erection. I just held her, real tight, fully absorbed into me. I just enjoyed the overwhelmingly immense body contact.

That felt so exhilarating!

She went along with the change. Her arms wrapped around my shoulders, and her heavy breathing on my neck. I was in full control of her. It felt really, really nice. I almost put my hands on her butt, but I kept myself in check. I needed a bit more courage to go that far, or rather needed some encouragement from her.

When our hug finally came to an end, I picked her up from her waist, lifted her off the peerhi, and placed her gently on the ground next to it. I ended up squeezing her into myself even more as I put her down. She stood in front of me, her head lowered and her gaze on the floor. She seemed a bit upset, I have to assume, as she said in a low voice, "I am short, am I not?"

I had to laugh. It is true that she is short, well, compared to me. I am not really that tall, but compared to her, I am taller. When we hugged before, her breasts would press into my belly. With the use of that peerhi, I was able to bring her chest against my chest, and that had felt much nicer and much better.

I didn't want to make her feel bad, but I didn't want to sugarcoat the obvious. "Yes, you are short. But I like your size."

Then I added more to our conversation, to dig deeper on one hand but to also divert her from her train of thought, "It was a much better 'Eid Mubarak' with the peerhi, wasn't it?"

She whispered, "Yes, it was." Then she turned around and walked out, I am sure feeling good, as I was, and not focused on her height. It had worked out very well.

I prepared myself for the next morning. It was day three of the Eid, the last day, and it was probably going to be the last time we were going to say "Eid Mubarak" to each other in the wee hours of the morning. That is, until the following year. I wanted to make the most of it. I wanted to get as much out of it as possible. That is, without going too far. I did not want her to object. I just wanted to enjoy hugging her as much as I could.

I decided to wear my shalwar, instead of my chadar. My chadar usually has some folded cloth material in the front that tends to inhibit a direct contact between my erection and her body, but shalwar usually has only a thin layer over my erection, especially if I am not wearing an underwear, which I was not wearing that morning, on purpose. You see, I knew what I was doing. In addition, I was only wearing my undershirt, instead of my long kameez, thus removing another layer between us. I figured, if she could dispense with her bra, I could make some changes on my side as well. It would be okay.

I didn't pull the peerhi, because I didn't want to focus on her height. To my surprise, she picked it up, brought it closer, and stood on it, without any prompting from me. Our contact must have come as a pleasant surprise to her, as it did to me. Her breasts felt even better through my undershirt. They were pressed flat against my chest. I could practically feel her skin against my skin. It was an incredible feeling. My erection was making a tent, protruding outward, spectacularly visible in front of me. However, her kameez restricted any contact that I wanted to make with her body. The long front part acted like a protective shield, and I couldn't place it where I was aiming to place it. I couldn't get through to her thighs or to the juncture where they meet. In other words, I couldn't press it onto her pussy.

We held each other like that for a very long time. I didn't want to break our hug, and it seemed like she was in no hurry to leave either. As luck would have it, there was some noise outside. Someone else must have woken up and was walking outside. She quickly pulled away from me, looked around to make sure the coast was clear, and then left quickly, leaving me behind, flustered and incredibly horny.

I waited for her that night. I hadn't seen her all day and only saw her for a short time when we were eating dinner with the family. It was the third day, and Eid was technically over. I wasn't sure if there was going to be another "Eid Mubarak", as a result. I thought that we at least had one more opportunity to say one last "Eid Mubarak" before we had to end our façade. But, she did not come for it. Nor did she come the following morning.

I was really disappointed to realize that our little game had come to an abrupt end. I guess it really was, most likely, just a plain and simple "Eid Mubarak" and nothing more. I wanted to do it again, I wanted to end with some fireworks, but I guess I was the only one wanting it. I was disappointed with the thought that she wasn't into it like I had thought that she was.

The following night, after the end of Eid, when there were no more chances for us to pretend that we were saying "Eid Mubarak", when I had no hope at all that she'll come to my room -- she came to my room. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't just take her in my arms. She didn't even come close to me. She just stood near the door as I awaited her words.

She just stood there for a very long time without saying anything. When she finally spoke, she said, "I guess our 'Eid Mubaraks' are done for this year."

I felt a little upset with her comment. I wanted to know why she had missed our third day if she was now worried about our charade coming to an end. I thought hard and fast, trying to find an appropriate answer. Then it came to me. I said, excitedly, "You know, in Canada, they saw the moon a day later, because of the weather. They are celebrating their last day of Eid today. So, if you want..."

I was just making that up, but she was looking for just some excuse and she was excited to hear the one that I gave her. She said, "Okay! Let me go and get ready and I'll be back for our 'Eid Mubarak'."

I didn't know what she meant by her "get ready" comment, so I just waited. I quickly changed into my shalwar and an undershirt like I had done the other day. My thoughts of wanting to end with some fireworks reignited in my head and I also decided to "get ready".

When she came back, she was in her shalwar as well, but instead of having a long kameez on as usual, she was wearing what I guess was an undershirt for women. It was made from thin malmal material. It came down to the top of her thighs, clearly leaving room for me to press between her thighs, and not let her kameez stop me from doing that. In addition, her arms were mostly bare, and I could tell very clearly that she had also removed her bra, as her breasts were hanging loose, like they do in the mornings. She really did "get ready". Now it was up to me to make the most of it.

She seemed out of breath. She spoke haltingly as she tried to catch her breath, while trying to say something, "I think Bibi saw me changing."

Bibi is the name we use for my grandmother. My aunt Jameela and Bibi share a room, so it is obvious that she must have seen her change into that outfit.

"Did she say something?" I asked her in a whisper.

"No, she didn't say anything. She was probably pretending to be asleep, because I think she was awake."

"Okay, now what?" I asked, not knowing what this development meant.

She didn't answer. Instead, she went to get the peerhi, put it in front of me, and stood on it with her arms open. I moved forward and grabbed her. This Canadian "Eid Mubarak" turned out to be a lot more intense compared to our previous ones. She was very handsy. She was caressing me in more places than just my back. She wasn't just caressing, instead, she was feeling me and groping me in a lot of places. My back, my shoulders, my arms, my neck, even my hips. Yes, my aunt was feeling me all over. Well, all the "legal" places, I should say.

I tried to do the same, but she was a lot more active than me, so I mostly just stood there and let her "have her way" with me. That will be the best way to describe it. She was breathing quite heavily. Her breathing was all over my neck and my face. A few times her cheek rubbed against mine. A couple of times our faces were very close to each other, close enough for us to kiss.

Needless to say, I was hard as a rock. At first, I tried to keep it away from her, but she soon felt it and to my surprise, she moved her body around and then positioned herself in such a way that my dick was pressing between her legs and right in the area where her pussy was. I am sure she wanted it that way, but I was still hesitant to press it into her from my side. I just let her do whatever she desired. I understood why she had put that undershirt on. It did not block our contact down there. My assumption proved correct when she placed her hands on my butt cheeks and pulled me forward, while pressing the middle of her body into me. My aunt wanted my dick to press into her pussy area and she made it happen. We held each other really tight. I could feel my dick throbbing against her.

After a while, her fever broke, and she stopped her aggressive caressing and groping. She just rested her body against mine as she tried to catch her breath. I just held her against me, with my erection still between her thighs. I didn't do anything with it; just let it be there. It took her a while to calm her breathing down. When it eventually did, she pulled herself a little away. I kept my hands on her sides.

She whispered, "I should go. I don't want Bibi to come looking for me."

I whispered back, "Okay", but still kept holding her. She didn't move either. I knew she didn't really want to go; she was just saying it. I caressed her back at first and then moved my hands further down and started caressing her lower back and the top part of her butt. I felt confident that she wouldn't mind my doing that, as we had made quite a bit of progress in that direction.

She did go though. Without saying a word, she moved away from me and quietly left. I stood there, sort of dumbfounded, not knowing what to make of anything. It took me a while to regain my composure and sit down on my bed.

She came back after a while, entered the room softly, closed the door behind her, and latched it from inside. I just waited to see what she was going to do next.

She came to the charpai that I was sitting on and sat next to me. I had to move a little to the left to make room for her to sit. I asked, "Was Bibi awake?"

"No, I heard her snoring, so I decided to come back."

"I am glad you did."

We sat there for a while in complete silence. I didn't know if I was supposed to get back to where we were before or wait for her to say something, or to do something. She started to get a little antsy as the moments ticked away. She started to look around as if she was searching the room for something. Then she looked behind us at the charpai, then looked around some more. In the dim light of my lantern, the whole room was relatively dark, so there wasn't much to see.

I finally reached over and placed my hand on her back. That put her at some ease; she even leaned into me. I then moved my arm and placed it around her shoulders and held her with my hand on her arm, on the side that was away from me, to hold her against me. It was a sort of a hug, but not really the kind of hug that we were so used to. I wanted to feel her breasts against my chest. I wanted to feel her breasts with my hands. It suddenly occurred to me that I could probably put my hand on her breasts and directly feel them. Oh, the rush that thought gave me.

I moved back on the charpai, making room to hold her in my arms. She understood my motive, as she also moved back and then put her feet onto the cot and spun herself around so that we were face to face and she was leaning in where I could hold her in an embrace. It was somewhat awkward, because we both had to bend our bodies to make our chests meet. I ended up pulling her into my lap.

She screamed a little when I flopped her on my thighs. I held her tight to help her balance. Once she eased into her spot, I gently placed my right hand on her left boob. She looked at me and smiled softly. I started to caress her breast. It felt even better in my hand than it had on my chest. It was really soft and warm. It felt amazing through the thin malmal material. After a short while I moved my hand to her other breast and squeezed it softly. She made a sound that I had never heard from her before. I wasn't sure if it was a sound of pain or pleasure, as it was new to me. She didn't stop me, so I assumed it must have been a sound of pleasure.

While I was rubbing my hand on her breasts, I noticed her breathing on my neck. As I moved my face to look towards her, she placed her hand behind my head and pulled me in. I felt her lips on my lips, and she started to kiss me. I paused caressing her boobs and just held one in my hand as I started to kiss her back.

It was a soft and gentle kiss at first, but once we became familiar with the process, the kiss became more passionate. Her lips felt soft, but sweet. Her saliva tasted good as we started to kiss hard and deep. We made out like that for a while, until we had to stop to catch our breaths.

She leaned forward and looked at the charpai again. I sensed the mood and turned around to look at the charpai myself. She spoke in a lowered voice and said, "This is kind of small for two people."

I understood her intent. The insinuation was quite clear. She was indirectly stating that it was time for us to move to the next level. My charpai was only big enough for one person and she was thinking of more than one person on that charpai.

I said, "We can fix that."

There was a large musallah in the corner of my room, for group prayers and such. I moved her off my lap and went to get it. I then spread the musallah in the middle of the room. Usually, it is a hard surface, so to make it soft, I pulled my blanket from the charpai and spread it on that musallah. I took my pillow and placed it on one end. I knew where we were headed, and I wanted to get there as soon as possible. I also knew that she was as eager to get there as I was. From her groping and fondling that I had experienced earlier, I knew I didn't have to do much. All I had to do was to make myself completely available to her and I was sure that she'd do the rest.

I went to lie down on the musallah and spread myself on the blanket. I was lying on one side as I waited for her to come and lie down next to me. This was something new and I wasn't sure how it was supposed to play out. I was lying on my back. My arousal was at its peak, as my dick was tenting my shalwar quite prominently. Even in the dim light of my lantern, she should've been able to see it.

I decided to do two things as casually as I could. One, I pushed my undershirt up until some part of my belly was bare. It should give her the opening for some skin-to-skin contact. Now it was up to her to decide how that contact should be made. I would go along with anything she was going to try. Two, I pulled my nala out of my shalwar so that it was visible on the front. Normally, when we tie the shalwar with it, we tuck it in. But by pulling it out and by leaving it out, I was leaving the possibility open that it could easily be untied.

She came over to the musallah, but instead of lying down with me, she sat next to me, with her legs crossed and looking directly at the middle part of my body. I just waited to see what she wanted to do next.

I could see her eyes focused on my erection. I reached around her and put my hand on her back, just as a way to encourage her to continue with whatever she had in her mind. I made a few small caresses on her back, but mostly I just held it in place, keeping my hand in contact with her back.

She was hesitant. She lifted her hand a few times and moved it forward, but with no clear indication of the direction she wanted to go. I waited.

She was breathing hard. After quite a bit of contemplation, I could see her reach a determination. She lifted her right hand up and very slowly, moved it towards my erection. She was looking at my face to see if I would flinch or react in a way to object. I didn't. I was making myself available to her, totally and completely.

She held it hovering above my erection and paused there for a short while, then slowly she lowered it until the palm of her hand made contact with the tip of my penis. I held firm. She applied some pressure and then moved her hand around in a circular motion, making my penis move around with it. She was just testing the waters to see if I was okay with it, which I was.

Then she moved her hand to the side and took a firm grip of my dick. Oh, her hand felt really good, even though it was through my shalwar material. She giggled, having made a blatantly sexual contact. She was nervous. I rubbed her back with my hand to reassure her that I was okay with it. She just held it and squeezed it to feel its firmness.

"It is really hard," she exclaimed.

I reached for my naala with my left hand and pulled it loose. She took the hint and loosened my shalwar further. I lifted my butt up so she could slide it down, which she quickly did, until my shalwar was pulled down to my knees, completely exposing my cock. It was standing straight up and was throbbing gently. Again, she hesitated a little but quickly grabbed it with her hand. Then she brought her other hand and held it with both hands, one fist above the other. I used my legs and feet to kick my shalwar off of me.

My aunt was holding my erection in her hands. She really didn't know what to do with it, but she wanted to feel it, and squeeze it, and hold it tight to feel the hardness. I started to rub her back with even more pressure as a response to her touch. That skin-to-skin contact felt really, really nice, and I told her so, "Your hands feel really good."

She got onto her knees and leaned forward. She wanted to see it properly. She bent it towards my belly with one hand and looked at my balls. She held my scrotum with the other hand. When she felt my testicles, she gave then a hard squeeze. This time I flinched.

"You have to be careful there. That part is very delicate and sensitive."

"Sorry, I didn't know," she whispered and let go of my scrotum. She brought my penis back to a standing position. Her hand was holding it at the bottom half of my shaft. She started to touch my head and my tip with the other hand. She placed her thumb on the ridge and her fingers on the back and started to squeeze back and forth, enjoying the spongy feel of my dick. I just let her explore her way around my manhood. I just let her have her way with me.

I started to caress her back a bit more vigorously. I wanted to feel her body as well. I was horny as hell with her touching, squeezing, and feeling of my cock. I wanted more. I lifted her shirt up from the back and put my hand on the inside, so I could touch her skin. I heard a sound of pleasure come from her throat as my hand made that contact. Her skin felt nice and smooth. It felt good to have that access.

She let go of my penis and then reached for her shirt and pulled it up and over her head to remove it completely. I also got up and removed my undershirt. Now I was completely naked. I wanted her to be naked as well, so I turned towards her, reached inside her shalwar to pull her nala out. As soon as I pulled it to loosen it, she stood up and slid her shalwar down and lifted her feet to remove it. Now she was also completely naked.

I looked at her body. She looked so nice. Her breasts were proudly hanging in front of her, and they looked amazing without anything covering them. I wanted to touch them, but they were out of my reach. Even more captivating was the view of her pussy. It was covered with a patch of hair all around it, but the lips were fully visible. I wanted to touch them, as well.

I moved myself to the middle of the musallah. She placed her feet on both sides of my body and then sat back down, but this time on my legs. She grabbed my penis again, bent it forward and started to rub the tip of her finger along the length of it, spending extra time on the ridge and the head.

I grabbed her knees and pulled her forward. She cooperated and moved her body forward, until her pussy was pressing against my erection. I wanted her pussy, not her hands. She knew it and I am sure she wanted the same.

She got off me and lied down next to me, spread her legs open for me, and tapped on my shoulder to indicate that she wanted me to be on top. I did. I positioned myself between her legs and spread myself on top of her. She reached between us and grabbed my cock. I lifted my body up and she rubbed my dick between her legs. I could feel her wetness. She then positioned it on her pussy, lifted her legs up further, and held my shoulders as she waited for me to impale her. I was so eager to push myself in her pussy that I must have thrust a little too hard. It didn't matter. Soon I was buried deep inside her belly.

Oh, my, God! That felt so good. I wanted to feel myself entering her body again, so I pulled myself out and then pushed back in. It was such a nice feeling that I kept pulling and pushing. I guess there are certain things that are just instinctive. I was fucking my aunt with the age-old rhythm of copulation. My breathing was out of whack. My heart was racing really fast. But the pleasure that I was getting was immeasurable. She kept me in position by holding my butt and by moving herself around whenever I may have moved out of synch.

Soon I learned to pace myself and my movements reached a steady speed. I was feeling her pussy with my dick. I was feeling her naked body under me. I was feeling her thighs on my hips. I was feeling us two connected so beautifully. Then I started to feel her muscles as they started to squeeze my cock, and I started to hear some unique sounds coming from her throat. I increased my speed a little and started to thrust a little faster. I could feel my ejaculation building and I could feel my body getting ready to climax. The pleasure was unbearable, almost painful when I finally started to shoot my sperm into her. O, my, God! What a beautiful feeling that was.

I guess when my sperm hit her uterus, it must have triggered some response in her, because she started to make even louder sounds. I could feel her body tense up and thrash around a little. By the time I finished coming inside her, she also finished her orgasm, and we both collapsed into each other. She started laughing. Nothing loud or extreme, just shy little laughter. When I looked at her face to see why she was laughing, she grabbed my face and started kissing me. At first, she was kissing my cheeks, nose, chin, and neck. Then she settled down and started to kiss my lips. Slowly at first, but then more passionately. I pulled myself off her and held her against me, while I started to kiss her back.

This time, her breasts were pressed against my chest without anything in between. It was pure and blissful skin-to-skin contact, and it felt heavenly. I was caressing her back at first and then moved to her butt. I kept my hands on her butt as we made out for a long time, just kissing each other, holding each other, and fondling each other.

It was the morning call to prayers that brought us out of our euphoria. She jumped up and started to dress quickly. She exclaimed, "Oh, my God. We spent the whole night together. I better get back to my bed before anyone finds out that I was here with you."

I just watched her dress and leave. As she was about to exit, I said little loudly, "Eid Mubarak, Maasi."

She giggled as she exited my room.