Pramila and Her Shetty Uncle Ch. 01

I stood in the middle of the Malad flat that now smelled of wet plaster, naphthalene, and faint echoes of my childhood. I had spent most of the day wiping dust from old furniture, rearranging kitchen jars, putting my life back together -- again. Divorce papers long filed. Accusations long screamed out. What stayed behind were the wounds he never saw.

He always thought I had something with Lalit. Maybe because we shared lunch sometimes. Maybe because he gifted me a scarf that one birthday, or rubbed my feet when I complained of office leg pain. But that was all. He was younger. And honestly? He annoyed me most days. His words... always the same, repeated torment -- "You hide things, Pammi ji. Your smile has secrets." As if my smile was something to be picked apart like my blouse hooks.

When I finally left that office, my best friend Shilpa hugged me tight. "Pammi, likh daal sab kuch. Har woh baat jo bol nahi sakti, likh de. Tere jaisa koi nahi -- seedha sach, bina makeup wala sach." She made me promise.

So here I am. Telling you all.

The woman you see in office sarees, with neatly tied hair and a mild perfume -- she moans alone at night with two fingers rubbing her clit to sleep. Because that's the only time she feels something real. It's not love I want. It's not even lust sometimes. It's... surrender. Peace. That moment when your body arches and all your noise becomes just breath.

And the one man who ever made me feel that -- even without touching me -- was him.

Shetty Uncle.

He still had that thick moustache, now greyer. Forearms like stone. His vest had a stain of coconut oil on one side. I felt my cheeks heat up. He looked up from his paper, and for a second, our eyes met.

And then, something happened.

He smirked.

Not a smile. A knowing smirk. Like he remembered everything -- the way I stood half-naked on terrace drying clothes that windy day. The way my nipples showed through my wet kurti. The way I had once peeked through his bathroom window crack -- a teen new 19, desperate to see what a man really looked like under all that chest hair.

I turned fast and left. But my heart wouldn't slow.

That night, I couldn't sleep.

I was back. In the same building.

The same gate. Same rusted iron smell.

Same echo in the staircase. Same wind whispering the stories it held in its concrete.

I had asked my tenant to vacate the flat -- it was time. My return wasn't just to the house. It was to a buried pulse, a certain ache I had once tried to forget.

Mr. Shetty -- my old neighbor -- wasn't really old. 55 maybe, while I was 35. His wife, Rukmini Amma, hugged me with tears in her eyes when she heard about the divorce.

I wasn't emotional. I had walked through enough fire already.

"It's okay, Amma," I smiled.

She turned to Shetty uncle and said playfully, "Find her a nice, decent man now."

"I don't need one," I replied quickly.

Shetty uncle chuckled and said with a thick voice, "Why look for one when I'm here?"

He patted my back and pulled me into a fatherly hug -- or at least it seemed so.

But his hand, wide and rough like old bark, brushed something more than just my back.

Amma laughed it off. But I caught that familiar glint in his eye.

The house inside felt like a forgotten theatre -- everything was where I had left it.

Same sofa with that one saggy cushion.

Same old wooden dining table -- the one where he'd first bent me forward, slid a porn DVD into the player, and gently fingered me from behind. I was 19. Curious. He was obsessed with my buttocks even then.

Every man I met after that -- even my husband -- had loved it. Worshipped it.

That day, I came home early from office. My body felt restless.

Hormonal, deprived, maybe hungry for something buried in the walls of this building.

I decided to go for a walk.

As I climbed the stairs of our building, I saw him -- Mr. Shetty uncle, coming down with that same loose lungi, phone in hand, hair still black, body still strong under that paunch.

And just like that -- a chill burst between my thighs.

A memory.

How I used to slow my steps intentionally so he'd brush against me -- and how he'd casually press my breast like he was steadying me, asking about college or tuition while pinching my nipples, as if nothing happened.

And how my nipples would instantly harden under my school dress...

Panties would dampen...

And I would try to act normal.

That same déjà vu flushed over me now.

Would he do it again?

I paused mid-stairs, just to see what he does.

He stopped, smiled, and asked me about work, like always. His eyes rested on my breasts, visible under the soft yellow blouse.

My breath was calm, but inside -- that same flutter.

One hand of his rose.

I held my breath.

Was he about to squeeze?

No -- he just patted my shoulder.

"Going to the market. Want something?"

I swallowed. "My favorite chocolate."

He paused -- just half a second longer than needed.

That smirk came on his lips. He remembered.

How he used to smear chocolate on his fingers and make me suck... while fingering me below, taking pleasure in feeding and Finger fucking together.

I was aching now.

Back home, I was already wet.

Deprived.

Desperate.

I lay down and fingered myself, breath shallow. The image of him flashing -- that one day I bunk junior college lecture and ran into his bathroom to hide from my mom, and saw his cock -- half-erect, long and veiny.

Even then, I wondered -- how does it look fully swollen?

My finger was inside me now. Wet. My saree still on. The bell rang.

I was still in the same green saree, yellow blouse -- but now without panties. My thighs still damp with lust.

I rushed to the door.

It was him. Mr. Shetty uncle.

Holding a packet of chocolates. My favorite.

"Come in uncle," I said, pretending formality.

He entered like it was still his home.

"You don't need to offer water to me, Pammi," he smiled.

"Here's your chocolate."

I reached to take it.

He pulled it back.

"You remember how I used to feed you?"

I smiled -- a slow, knowing one -- and walked over, sat on his lap. We both were paused for a while, his hand on my back went down slowly on my ass curves already resting on his two thighs.

His lungi tented up already. He was hard. Rock hard.

That same thick cock.

His eyes were glued to my chest.

He unwrapped the chocolate, smeared it on my lips with his finger, gently like lipstick.

I parted them and sucked his finger, nibbling it.

He shoved it in deeper. His fingers were still strong, still in control.

"You didn't touch me on the staircase," I whispered.

"I thought my Shetty uncle had become old."

He grinned and leaned forward, licking the melted chocolate from my lips.

Then, he pinched my nipples through the blouse.

I gasped.

He cupped my breast, still not huge but firm and sensitive --

"I told you long ago, these nipples could ruin any man's peace."

I opened my blouse.

He sucked one nipple in instantly.

Biting. Pulling. Twisting.

I moaned, breath turning into soft cries oh uncle.

His cock throbbed under my buttocks.

I got down on my knees -- my saree still wrapped, blouse undone.

He leaned back on the sofa.

"Pammi beta... you're still so hot."

He untied his lungi.

And there it was.

That same monster.

But now fully awake. Dark, veined, standing proud.

I smiled, bit my lip. "So this is what I was missing."

He smeared the leftover chocolate on his cock. I leaned in, tilted my head, and began licking my gift -- slow, worshipful.

From tip to root. Balls. Back up. Sucking. Kissing. Biting gently.

I made love to it with my mouth.

Ten minutes. No words. Just tongue and breathe.

Then I stood.

Lifted my saree.

My breasts pointed at his face.

My wetness dripping. My bubble butt expose to air.

I sat on his cock slowly.

He grabbed my wide, soft buttocks and helped me ease into him.

My vagina stretched and slowly swallowed his rod slowly.

I cried out in pleasure.

"Fuck... oh "

My nipples were on his lips. He took one in. Then the other.

I began to bounce like a possessed girl -- lust-drunk, tear-eyed.

My juices were flowing down, coating his cock and balls.

His thighs slapped mine.

I reached behind and scratched his ball -- a wild move -- and he growled.

Then he pulled me forward and kissed me hard -- biting my lower lip.

His moustache tickled me raw. my both lips were in his mouth. his both hands holding my ass globes and helping me jump on his pole. he again bit my nippel and sucked my petite breast, he was mouth full. he also bit me and i allowed him, no one can say no to the man who own his gigantic rock hard cock.

And in that wildness -- I came.

Soaking him.

He pushed up inside me and groaned -- his warmth filling me deep.

We stayed like that -- panting.

And he kissed my forehead, still inside me.... after 10 mins we were back in real world. He got is lungi and shirt in place, I was still in my nakedness like a girl.

"Welcome back, Pammi beta." Kissing on my lips, slapping my buttocks and winking at me he left. I went to toilet for a pee.

my phone buzzes.

It's a video call from Pune -- her mom, dad, and Riddhi, her teen daughter.

She wipes her mouth quickly, pulls her saree over her swollen cleavage, sits up with a small pillow behind her back.

"Hi beta..." she smiles as the call connects.

Riddhi squeals, "Mummaaa! You've gained weight!"

Pammi chuckles. "Arre, thoda toh hona chahiye na, you want me to look like stick again?"

Her mom's eyes scan the room.

"Same curtains..." she mutters emotionally.

"Hmm," Pammi nods, her voice softer now. "It's like... your womb, ma. Safe. Ghar jaisa nahi, ghar hi hai. All the old people... same warmth. Same comfort."

Her dad coughs on the side, emotional. "Tum theek ho na, beta?"

Pammi presses her belly subtly, takes a breath. "I'm settled, baba. Really."

Then her mom asks, curious, "Aur Rukmini? apne woh Shetty uncle couple? The uncle one you always followed around like a chipkali?"

Pammi can't help but smile.

She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and says with a soft laugh,

"Shetty uncle's good, ma. Just left, actually. Got me chocolates."

Riddhi raises her eyebrows. "Someone still brings you chocolates like a little girl? So cute!"

Pammi's laughter is full-throated this time.

"Beta... har aurat ko pasand hai pampered hona. Chocolates, compliments... ya kabhi kabhi bas ek haath peeth pe jo pyaar se thapthapaye. Age has nothing to do with it."

They all smile. Light banter.

She wishes them well, waves, ends the call.

And just as the silence settles, her phone buzzes again.

Message: "Come home for dinner today. I made your favorite payasam. -- Rukmini Amma"

Pammi closes her eyes. Breathes in deep.

The house is warm. The world outside may still wonder who the father is.

But inside this bubble -- she is pampered like a goddess.

Fed like a queen.

Loved like a girl again.

Later that night, I couldn't sleep.

I was busy next day loads of work and saw late night film with my dear friend shilpa. The Kerala files. It was reality on the surface heard from rukmini amma. i reached mid night by 2am shilpa dropped me, another day I took a leave. Got up straight 12 noon

The ac timer got off and ceiling fan moved slow, the heat sticking to my skin, sweat collecting beneath my breasts and thighs.

I lay on my back in a thin cotton nightie, my legs slightly apart, the fabric clinging to my wet cunt.

Shetty uncle's touch was still echoing in my body -- from my lips to deep inside where he left his warm flood.

A WhatsApp message lit up the screen.

Just a voice note.

"Come to the terrace, Pammi beta."

That voice.

Rough. Confident. Heavy with meaning.

I didn't reply.

I got up, wore that same transparent nighty -- no blouse, no petticoat, nothing underneath.

Just that one thin fabric around my heated body.

My breasts free, nipples hard and brushing against the fabric as I walked barefoot up the staircase.

It was quiet 1 at noon.

Just the distant traffic noise, the smell of night jasmine somewhere. And the slightly rusty sound of the terrace door creaking open.

He was already there.

Leaning on the wall. In that lungi..

"Pammi..."

He came near. His eyes dropped to the outline of my breasts.

"No bra?"

I smirked. "You don't like extra packaging."

He pulled up my nighty slowly.

My breasts spilled out by opening buttons -- soft, full, nipples hard like pebbles.

The warm night air kissed them.

And then he did.

Shetty uncle knelt on the hard concrete and wrapped his arms around my hips.

His face buried into my belly.

His lips dragged down... slow... and he licked a path down between my thighs.

The cool breeze hit my wet folds.

And then his warm breath joined it.

And then... his tongue.

I gasped.

My legs trembled. I held onto his head.

His moustache tickled my clit, his tongue flicked it like he was punishing me for all those lost years. It was a thrill in open in day light all trees around.

He held my thighs open like a hungry man opening a feast.

"Still the same taste," he muttered.

"Only thicker now... richer."

Her fingers gripped his hair tightly, eyes fluttering half shut...

When suddenly -- a voice floated from across the lane:

"helllooo Pammi!!"

It was Kavita, waving from her own terrace, hanging clothes.

Pammi gasped slightly, eyes widening -- then quickly composed herself, pulled her pallu forward like nothing's odd.

"Kavitaaaa! Arre tu yahaan?" she waved, her smile twitching as Shetty uncle's tongue drew slow circles right then below my legs..

"Haan yaar, I came to my bua's place, saw you here! Shifted back?"

"Haan haan... full circle types." Her voice quivered slightly.

Kavita smiled, "Chalo milte hain properly!"

Pammi, trying not to moan, laughed breathlessly, "Yes yes... pakka... abhi thodi kaam mein hoon... bye!"

She bit her lip and waved again, hips jerking softly.

His tongue moved in circles, then up and down -- no mercy.

I whimpered, hips shaking. The sky above me blurry with stars.

I grabbed his hair and rubbed myself against his mouth, shameless, desperate.

The terrace wall behind me cold, his tongue hot, my body a wild jungle between.

My juices were dripping down his chin now.

He looked up, face shining.

"You want to cum beta?" he asked.

I nodded, biting my lip, almost crying.

He slapped my thigh softly.

"Say it. Say you want your Shetty uncle to make you cum."

I moaned.

"Say it."

"I want you... Shetty uncle... I want you to make me cum with your mouth. Please..."

And just like that -- he buried himself into me again.

Sucked hard. Flicked his tongue like a devil.

And I exploded.

My knees buckled, my moan cut through the night air like a prayer lost in a storm.

I leaned on him, trembling.

He rose, licked his lips, and kissed me hard on the mouth.

"You taste like a goddess now, Pammi."

I smiled, still catching my breath.

"Then worship me again... every night."

He held me close, bare chest to bare breasts, and said:

"your uncle is for you beta." Touching is moustache I said "now give ur beta a good fuck" looking at his hard cock.

I had just slumped into Shetty uncle's chest after that wild licking. His face still wet with me.

My body bare under the open sky, his arm around me, our sweat mixing.

And then -- the terrace door creaked.

We both turned.

Rukmini Amma stood at the doorway.

Her white cotton nightie flapping slightly in the wind.

Her mouth open. Eyes frozen.

She had seen it.

Everything.

My nightie was up to my waist. My breasts bare.

His lungi raised cock in my hand. His lips swollen.

She stared.

"Raghunathhhh!" she screamed -- voice breaking between rage and disbelief.

Pammi covering herself. "Amma!"

"You... and him? Here on terrace?" her voice cracked, eyes blazing. "After all I did for you!"

Shetty uncle tried to speak, "Rukmini--"

But Amma held up a finger, eyes moist now. "I fed you like my daughter... and you sit on my husband's lap like a whore?"

Pammi's lips trembled. But she didn't cry.

"No Amma. I sat like a woman who was starving... not for food... but for touch. For feeling like a woman again."

I didn't panic. I didn't cover up.

I looked straight into her eyes.

She took a step back, shaking.

"Rukmini Amma..." I said, softly.

She didn't respond.

"Mr. Shetty... how could you..." she whispered, her voice cracking, eyes glassy.

Tears or rage -- I couldn't tell.

She turned to leave.

"Amma, don't leave. Just... listen." But she left crying. They both followed.

We slowly came in the house, Pammi sat her down on the divan. She knelt in front of rukmini amma like a daughter, but spoke like a woman.

"Amma... I've been dry for years. My husband left me barren --without touch, without voice.

Shetty uncle... your husband... your Raghunath... he's the only man who ever made me feel like I'm worth melting for. Even before marriage. And you knew that, didn't you?"

Rukmini Amma's lips quivered.

Pammi leaned closer, her voice low, warm. "You lost that man years ago. I didn't steal him... I revived him. You got your hubby back -- moaning, strong, laughing, even cooking sometimes..."

Shetty uncle came closer, sat beside Amma, gently placed a hand on her thigh.

"Rukmini..." he said softly. "She's like a charger for both of us. You're the socket. She's the current. Together... you make me feel alive."

Amma closed her eyes. A tear rolled down. But she didn't push his hand away.

Pammi whispered, "You're not losing him. You're getting a fuller man back.

A husband who can love you again.

And a daughter who worships you."

Amma looked at her... and then at Shetty uncle... and slowly, slowly, her hands reached to cup both their cheeks.

"Pagal ho tum dono...

I slowly tugged at her nightie.

Her breath caught.

"Shetty uncle loves your body. I've heard him say it. He told me once... your thighs were the softest heaven he knew."

A tear rolled down her cheek.

uncle kissed it.

"Amma you don't need to leave. You can stay. You can feel. You can join."

I placed her hand on my bare breast.

She gasped.

Behind me, Shetty uncle sat silent, watching.

"Touch me, Amma," I whispered.

"Touch me like a woman touches another when there's no shame left."

Her hand trembled... but she didn't pull back.

She cupped my breast softly. Her thumb grazed my nipple.

Something in her broke.

"I haven't... felt like a woman in years," she whispered.

I kissed her neck. Slow. Gentle.

She closed her eyes and leaned into me.

And from behind, Shetty uncle rose and wrapped his arms around both of us.

"Finally," he said, voice rough. She went in bedroom calm turned and gave smile to her hubby..

She's 55. Still shapely. Still graceful.

But hidden beneath layers of quietness, routine, and unspoken cravings. Her hair -- once jet black -- is now a mix of silver streaks and stubborn black strands, always tied back into a tight bun, exposing the graceful curve of her neck.

That neck -- slightly wrinkled, but delicate -- holds years of restraint. Her skin is wheatish, but soft, slightly loose now, with stretch marks she hides under long nighties.

But the softness of her body has its own mature fullness -- wide hips, toned buttocks, and heavy breasts that once fed two children but still sway like ripe fruit under her clothes.

Amma in saree sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, saree pleats spread under her, heart thudding in a way it hadn't in years. Shetty stood before her, undoing the knot of his lungi, his thick fingers slow, steady -- as if unwrapping something sacred.

Pammi stood by the door -- not intruding, but present like a warm shadow. A knowing smile curled on her lips, proud of the fire she'd rekindled.

And then... Amma saw it.

The lungi dropped.

Her eyes widened. His thick hard cock

"Shetty..." she whispered. Her voice was a breath.

He stood fully erect -- that same manhood she had once adored, feared, craved. And now it was back. Thick, veiny, flushed with blood and memory.

She gasped softly, a hand rising to cover her mouth. "I didn't know... I thought..."

He stepped closer. "I just needed my Rukku to look at me like this again."

Pammi walked to her, gently placed her hand on Amma's shoulder.

"Touch him, Amma."

Her fingers trembled but obeyed -- they wrapped around his shaft slowly, remembering its weight. Her breath hitched as it twitched in her palm.

Pammi smiled, her lips brushing Amma's ear from behind.

"Feel that? He's never been more alive."

Shetty bent down, cupped Amma's breasts through her blouse, pressing them together, thumbs circling her nipples till they stiffened. He undid the hooks gently, freeing her heavy, dark-tipped breasts. His mouth was on them in seconds, sucking hungrily, groaning like a man starved for years.

Amma moaned -- surprised at the loudness of her own voice.

Pammi kissed the back of her neck and whispered, "Let it out."

Shetty pushed Amma gently back on the bed, spread her thighs wide. Her petticoat was still on -- but he bunched it up to her waist. Her pubic hair was salt-and-pepper now, but the scent rising from her was ripe. Her wetness glistened in the dim light.

He kissed her inner thighs slowly... teasing her. And then his tongue found her centre.

Amma bucked -- a cry tore out of her.

"Shetty!" she gasped. "Don't stop..."

Pammi, now beside them on the bed, held Amma's hand as her husband devoured her -- licking her swollen lips, sliding a finger in and curling it just right.

"Shetty... what are you doing to me?" Amma cried, breathless, head rolling side to side.

Pammi whispered, "Just receiving what you always gave."

He licked her deeper now -- groaning into her, drinking her.

Then he stood up, towering over her, his cock glistening with precum. Amma spread her legs for him, eyes wide, scared and wanting.

"Shetty... it might hurt..." she murmured.

"It'll hurt if I don't," he growled.

He entered her in one strong, thrust.

Her mouth opened wide, no words came. Just a deep moan -- raw and tearful -- like something buried in her bones had broken free.

Pammi watched, her own thighs slick now, rubbing herself gently beside them, soaking in the beauty of what she helped bloom. She kissed Amma's cheek mid-thrust, saying:

"Now you're truly back, Amma."

Shetty rode her deep and slow, holding her hips, kissing her breasts, licking her tears. His hairy chest rubbed against her soft curves, his cock stretching her open -- claiming every forgotten inch. Pammi sucking her nipples and Shetty kissing her.

They came together -- loud, messy, glorious.

The bed shook. Their moans tangled. Pammi held them both after, her hands on their hearts.

Three souls.

Three pulses.

One rebirth.

________________________________________

The Ritual: Shetty uncle's Return to Glory

They were both on the mattress of their house small open terrace -- one on each side of him.

Pammi lay naked, her saree tossed somewhere near the potted plant on the terrace.

Rukmini Amma, her nightie pulled down from one shoulder, her heavy breasts spilling, her wide thighs trembling as if shocked awake.

The moonlight kissed all their bodies, silver on brown skin, sweat glistening, nipples swollen.

Shetty uncle stood in between them, cock upright, proud like the king of the jungle, watching his two women -- one from his youth, one from his marriage -- now offering themselves fully.

He grabbed Rukmini Amma's thick hair first, gently but firmly, pulling her mouth to his cock.

She opened up like a trained memory. Her tongue was clumsy at first, then desperate.

On the other side, Pammi crawled on all fours -- her breasts hanging, her hips raised -- licking his balls while her eyes met Amma's.

"Good girls..." Shetty uncle groaned.

He held their heads like handles -- a fistful of hair in each hand -- as their tongues worked in rhythm, one licking the shaft, the other kissing the tip.

Rukmini's eyes watered as he pushed deeper. Pammi whispered, "Let me ride him first, Amma."

Amma nodded. Her lips glossy with her husband's precum.

Pammi mounted Shetty uncle like a lioness in heat -- thighs spread wide, holding her own breasts, slowly lowering her soaked cunt onto him.

She moaned loud when his cock filled her.

Rukmini watched, breathless.

She spread her legs too, rubbing herself -- her grey-streaked hair wild, her nipples stiff like she was 30 again.

Shetty uncle thrust up into Pammi, grabbing her waist, then her hair, pulling her back as he slammed into her, watching her breasts bounce in the moonlight.

Her moans filled the terrace.

Then he laid her down and pulled out.

"Amma... come. Sit."

Rukmini crawled forward. His cock still wet from Pammi.

She looked nervous.

Pammi whispered in her ear, "Taste yourself... taste me on him."

And Amma did.

She sat on her husband, guiding his cock into her wet folds -- that familiar stretch making her gasp like it was their first time again.

Her large buttocks cushioned him.

Her breasts bounced with each bounce of her hips.

Shetty uncle looked up at her, stunned.

"Where was this Amma all these years?"

She grabbed his face.

"With your old memories."

They kissed.

Pammi came behind them, kissing Amma's shoulder, licking the sweat. She kissed her back, even her soft round ass.

Now Shetty uncle held both their hairs again -- riding Rukmini from below, pulling Pammi's head forward to kiss her mouth.

Three bodies, soaked in sweat, love, and forgotten hunger.

Rukmini came first, collapsing on his chest.

Pammi sat on his face.

He licked her deep as she rode his mouth, clutching Amma's soft breasts for balance.

And when it was his turn -- he roared.

Held their heads down on his cock. And came like thunder, splashing both their mouths, their cheeks, marking them both.

Rukmini licked her lips. Pammi wiped her cheek and smiled.

Shetty uncle lay back, breathless.

"Who knew," he whispered, "being old would feel this young."

Pammi curled beside him. Amma curled on the other.

Naked. Marked. Complete.

The Saree Shop (Next Day, Mid-Morning)

The sun was high, but Rukmini Amma's cheeks were still flushed from the night before.

They were walking side by side in the local market -- two women draped in sarees, bangles clinking, their hair wet from a quick wash.

Shetty uncle had stayed back, sipping tea in his banyan and lungi, watching them go like a king who had just conquered both his queens.

Pammi wore a dark yellow chiffon saree, no bra, no petticoat -- just her firm body underneath, held together by that sheer fabric and her slow gait.

Every step made the soft material slide between her buttocks.

Every step reminded her of last night -- his cock, her cum, Amma's warm lips.

Rukmini was dressed more modestly -- blue cotton saree, tight white blouse -- but her nipples betrayed her.

They poked through like two secrets waiting to burst.

Inside the saree shop, the salesman brought down rolls of fabric.

Pammi bent forward slightly to pick a piece.

The shop boy stared -- her bare breasts jiggling under the transparent saree.

She noticed. And smiled.

Amma saw it too. And whispered, "Shameless girl..."

Pammi whispered back, "You didn't say that when I was licking you..."

Amma's eyes widened. Her lips pressed tight to stop the smile.

She hit Pammi's arm lightly with a folded saree.

"I can still feel your tongue, Amma," Pammi whispered in her ear.

Amma's breath caught. Her nipples were now obviously pressing through the blouse.

She reached to adjust her saree but ended up brushing her breast instead -- the shop boy noticed.

Pammi whispered again, "He's staring at your nipples. Don't cover."

Amma turned red. But didn't adjust the saree.

Pammi got close to his ear, licking it just once before whispering,

"We got what you want."

The shop boy must've been around 23 -- lean, dusky, with hungry eyes and a mop of hair he kept adjusting.

His name tag read "Manu", but Pammi called him "beta" with a grin that melted the 'beta' into desire.

They'd picked a couple of net sarees and Manu had offered, like usual,

"Madam, you can try in the trial room behind."

Pammi turned to Amma, "Chal na Amma, try karte hai."

The small room had nothing but a stool, a mirror, and a thick curtain.

Once inside, Pammi pulled Amma in too.

"Yeh purple wala pehen le tu..." she said, holding up the see-through one.

Amma hesitated. "Yeh toh... dikhega sab..."

Pammi grinned, "Toh dikhne de na..."

They stripped.

Pammi's breasts dropped free, nipples already erect.

Amma hesitated -- but Pammi came behind her, unhooked her blouse, and whispered,

"Don't think. Just feel."

Rukmini's large, heavy breasts rolled out, the cotton blouse no longer hiding years of soft hunger.

Pammi hugged her from behind, her hands cupping Amma's breasts, nipples rubbing against her back.

Outside, Manu had heard a giggle.

He tried not to look.

But when the curtain shifted a little... he saw a glimpse.

Two women. Bare. One hugging the other.

His pants swelled instantly.

Pammi noticed.

She pulled the curtain open -- halfway -- one breast visible, blouse hanging loose.

She whispered, "Beta... zara pin toh dena..."

He stepped forward, hands trembling.

Pammi moved closer. Her blouse dropped open entirely now -- her full breast exposed.

"Zara yahan pin lagana..." she said, pointing just near the nipple.

His hands shook.

His fingers brushed the dark areola.

Pammi didn't flinch.

Behind her, Amma stood -- her saree slipping. Her one breast now exposed too.

Her eyes locked onto Manu's crotch.

Pammi turned. "Dekh Amma, jawaan hai, par control khone laga hai."

Then she looked at Manu.

"You want to touch properly, beta?"

He nodded. Frozen.

Pammi pulled his hand, placed it on her breast.

"Press it. Yes, like that."

She turned and kissed his lips softly. Then bit it.

She slid down, unzipped his pants.

The boy's cock sprang out -- young, stiff, slightly trembling.

"Chalo Amma..." Pammi whispered, "waise bhi bada sweet hai, aur size bhi mast hai."

Amma sat on the stool, topless now. Her soft belly folding, her thighs spread.

Pammi knelt between Manu's legs, taking him deep in her mouth.

Amma watched, her hand rubbing herself slowly, nipples swinging as she panted.

Pammi looked up and smiled, "Amma, pyara hai bahot taste karo na..."

And Amma -- shy, soft Rukmini Amma -- knelt next to Pammi and took over.

Manu gasped.

Two mouths. Two women -- one ripe and firm, one heavy and motherly -- sharing his cock like devotees licking a divine offering.

He moaned, couldn't last.

Came hard, spurting all over their lips, their cheeks.

Pammi kissed Amma's lips. Shared the last drop.

Then they adjusted sarees.

Walked out.

Manu stood behind the counter, red-faced, shirt stained, breathless.

Pammi winked.