In a mid-sized Northern American city, there lived Azad, a plump old Indian lady that ran a smoke shop right next to an Irish bar. Her family helped her run it but she was in charge. She sat in the store working most of the time. Here, behind the counter, she made herself comfortable and as homey as it could get in a store. Her household Patrons looked down on her. She wore the traditional clothes of loose layers called a Sari.
The counter provided her with a little cover being higher then the floor, so that, it was hard to see the cashier unless she was right next to the window. If the store was empty, she could change from one Sari to another quickly. What she kept secret was that she did not wear anything underneath the thin silky material. She had a big belly and she was embarrassed by it so in this backward way, her shamelessness in from of younger people made her feel erotic. Moreover, there was a beautiful full length mirror leaning against the wall behind her and a small rug under her bare feet. She used the mirror to check out her various outfits and try on beautiful jewelry. Sometimes, when naughty, she got completely nude and then bedecked herself with jewels of all sorts all over her body. She would look at herself in the mirror, turning around to reveal a tight gold chain string running between her cheeks. When business was slow, she found others ways to indulge herself.
Today was such a day. She undressed and looked at herself in the tilted mirror. She looked like she was almost a ball in the image. She had large breasts that she suspended with a towel. She was short and fat but this didn’t bother Azad. She was used to it. Besides, in her culture, there were different criteria for social norms. Class went a long way and her body made her seem of the upper class. The fact she was an old lady who had money was a very erotic thing and this made her very attractive to just about any man in her culture.
Physically, she felt great. She was doing a daily Yoga routine and did laps in her pool. Her body was completely hairless as her Patron saint required of her except for a short sensible haircut. He was watching her now. She stood up and turned to the idle to let Him see her fully. Right then, she felt a sudden pleasant pang deep in her body. He wanted her to have an orgasmic release. She hugged herself a little and mouthed a prayer of thanks under her breath.
Just then, the bell of the door went off and she threw on the Sari quickly. A little discombobulated, she almost missed and ended up having one shoulder exposed. That was so embarrassing considering the size of her arm!
There was a spot where customers could peek at her in her various stages of undressing. She would know they are there but they had no idea that she was aware of being spied on. She saw lots of cute young guys come in and out of the store. She liked to flirt with guys that she liked. It would never occur to them that this old traditional looking woman would be hitting on them. So they talked to her and she shuffled her wide butt around for them and bent down to floor if necessary. She would chat but if they started opening up to her, she would listen and just ask them questions about themselves. Their culture and lives were very different from hers. This fascinated her. Some of them let her steer the conversation into the direction of their partners and consequently sex lives. She was eager to listen to anything they might want to say. It turned her on to hear personal things like this. She loved getting guys to talk like they were her female friends.
Azad’s store had a large selection of bongs and hookahs. There was also Indian things of all types, some sex toys, of course, and other less legal things.
Soon she was meeting with a guy. He was nice and young and athletic and he clearly appreciated her matronly figure and curvy hips. To fool around, she just took him by the hand through a little hidden room behind the cash register where there was a smoking room with a couch and other comforts. It was so fun to serve him whatever he wanted here be it pot or alcohol or something else.
She disliked these great looking overconfident boys that drank next door or bought the bongs from her family store. But they also attracted her. She had a sex drive that she had to keep feeding with toys of various types. Her grandmotherly looks would shut her out from their world on one hand but on the other she also knew what she was doing to them. Men are so easily seduced by a cunning old matriarch who has both money and power and she seemed to attract whose who have neither.
He came too quick for her liking. She scolded him like a bad dog. She could see how he looked at her, adoringly so she knew this would really hurt him but make him more eager to please. Sure enough his eyes were alarmed but attentive. She soften to him.
“Look, we Indians have a way to help you.”
She unclasped a gold wrist chain. She took his flaccid member and pulled the Escort Küçükköy skin all the way back slowly. Then she put the clasp of the chain right on the under head. Here she wound the chain around and around as tightly as she could.
“Ow!” he said not expecting any pain.
“Hang in there, baby,” she said, “I’m almost done.”
She wound each circle deliberately under the head of the cock. When she was done, she licked all over the shaft to get it wet. He groaned. The pleasure was tempered by pain which made the pleasure augment again in an endless cycle in his mind. She pulled the skin back up over the head. Azad’s gold chain was completely hidden now but her new toyboy certainly felt her gold when she squeezed his head tightly and he yelped from pain. She cupped his genitalia and asked lovingly if he liked it. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how he felt about all this. When he went to reply in the negative, she squeezed him again. Every time he tried this, she squeezed harder so he just had to agree with her and nodded.
“Good boy,” she exclaimed.
She talked about how this process will let him last longer when he is in her. It will, over time, desensitize the tip of the penis. Also, it will swell the width of the head to make the whole member bigger. But what she really liked about this was that as long as her boy kept it on, he wouldn’t want to climax though he would be distinctly turned on by it and feel it’s presence the way a woman feels and gets reassurance from jewelry no one else can see. It didn’t prevent him from getting hard or even rubbing himself to completion but when he did squirt his juice the pain was unexpected and intense and. Of course, she never told them this. She liked to let them find out for themselves.
One really quiet and shy young man kept coming in. It was clear to him she was from India from her features and dress. A short fat little woman that looked almost like a ball. He somehow started meeting with her here and there. He had no idea she messed around but she knew all about his love life.
He didn’t think the old lady was pretty or anything. But their time together was not intimate. It was not embarrassing to go out with her either. She was so cool. Besides, how he viewed her would change. Her face softened and her lines became familiar to him. He had no idea that the woman would go on to bring him undreamed of pleasures and that he would do the same for her. Later, when he saw all that in her face, he couldn’t look away.
He ended up falling in love with the shop keep, as is often the case. He cautiously asked her about her homeland far away, a little at a time. It turned out she was from Uttar Pradesh. He learned about it and talked to her in detail about this most ancient region upon their next meeting. This seemed very strange to her but she had to admit to herself it was flattering that her favorite customer was doing all this for her whatever his motive.
Reading and studying this very alien and antique culture, he looked into native romantic matters, too. It was very erotic to read about this since he guessed she knew all this intuitively. He wanted desperately to send her a sign.
He found himself trying to think of reasons to come in the store. Soon, though, he just stopped by to chat with her and look at her. He was going to all this trouble just to adore her. She reacted to him differently then the others. She was quieter with him. Even though she was experienced with people and getting sex from boys, this young person saw her in an ethereal way. This made her feel ageless and beautiful. Only he made her feel that way.
That is how they started dating. He seemed to be satisfied with her but she just had to know. She had to see what would happen. They were such an unlikely sight to behold. One out of a hundred couples were similar to them. An old Indian lady and her young guy with her. He held her hand or her purse as need be. They whispered like lovers with their heads close together though they had never kissed. Not yet, anyway. It was intoxicating enough for them just to be together. He worshiped her from their first meeting and Azad played along with his fantasy.
Gift giving was acceptable so he gave in to his desires and began to bring little things to her. When she unfolded it her eyes grew wide. She kind of gave him a playful naughty look and he could see she was blushing, too. On the paper he had carefully written out a romantic poem. He wrote:
????? ??? ???? ??? ??? ???? ??
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Of course, she upbraided him for this playfully citing their age difference but she was smiling and the old matron was feeling very strong and very pleased with herself. And so it went. He looked forward to giving her a love poem on a regular basis as if he was under some intoxicating love spell. The poems were breathtaking.
One Mecidiyeköy escort day he mentioned he had no other sexual partners. When she prodded him, he gave her normal answers about his loneliness. He started saying to her how he preferred the company of older women for some reason. While he could appreciate the beauty of a lady his age, certain old women appeared to him absolutely gorgeous. She felt comfortable now, safe. She felt like he was saying this for her to seduce her somehow. She could not tell how truthful he was but it was awkward for them because of how he could not help but look at her when she desired to broached this topic.
His love poems got more intimate over time. She was expecting him to lose interest in either the poems or herself or both but he never did. A whole year went by like this and he never showed any signs of impatience or desperation over her. Azad was a tough woman but she had to admit defeat. Her young man had truly built an inner life inside his heart with her in it and it would do more damage to him now to ignore or reject his romance then to take it a step further.
He seemed to her to say that he was all hers, this amazing looking and intelligent young person. She was so old she never thought anyone could be attracted to her again. But she could see it in his eyes. They both looked good to one another on that day.
They met at a neutral location at first. They went to a shopping mall. They shopped amicably together and then part ways. They both kept sending texts to one another even though they both know they shouldn’t. They met again and then again at a hotel in the late afternoon sun. This kind of meeting was new to both of them. They met outside and came in together. The manager was looking at them and seemed to be smirking a little. She didn’t seem a likely partner for anyone let alone the young man standing beside her. Wherever they went, they would stick out from the crowd. Their nervousness confirmed intensified the surrealism of the world. The young man was holding her hand. They went into the hotel room and she sat on a chair. Soon, they are peacefully spending time together. She was reading and he was rubbing her ankles and feet with her oils. She was sighing and moaning. Nothing else happened on their first evening. She was in a daze at the end of their unorthodox date. After he caressed her entire body with his wonderful hands in oils she fell asleep.
“I want to lick your body all over,” he writes her the next day. She puts her hand to her mouth involuntarily upon reading this.
Is wasn’t too long before he had his tongue inside her and all over her. She’s never been treated to this because she was from such a conservative background and at first her inner folds are super sensitive. But she stuck to it and she quickly got to love it as much as possible. In the throes of passion, she began to sometimes grab his head and push it into her as his tongue tried to roam deeper and deeper in an attempt to satisfy her. Her trunk convulsed into his mouth. She lusted after this now even to the point of almost feeling pain like a wild mare. Of course the Hindi have a goddess for just such an occasion.
“Let me tell you a story,” she began as they sat down for lunch.
In an ancient kingdom in modern day India, there was a society ruled by women. Not all women, of course, just a few of the old and powerful ones. These living demigoddesses ruled from a great capital. Water flowed in every room in the palace in the luxury of cool stone chambers and rugs and pillows. They would lounge around together in an airy room, the whole group of them sometimes. Usually with only a towel to lay on. Not a care to their own ages. Discuss matters of importance while attendants came and went from these misty rooms. To touch the foot of a fabulously wealth higher born old goddess woman matriarch was a thrill like no other. For the first time, after several years, a lucky slave got to touch Her. Now, several days in a row, he has massaged her for their mutual pleasure. He prays she takes him as a lover as can happen from time to time. He still dares not look her in the face. He has only touched her feet so far. He rubbed her feet. Someday he dreamed he would wash and oil her body in her favorite oils. They had lots of favorite gods there in that ancient place of cool stones and echoes.
He was not very experienced with women but with Azad he could relax. He wasn’t worried about making the right impression on her and was just himself. It never occurred to him that she might like him like that.
She mentioned she liked to smoke weed to relax.
“Oh my god, you like Horror, too?” she exclaimed upon realizing their mutual interest.
At that time, culturally speaking, everything Hindi or Indian was in. There was a certain and very ancient Hindi board game Azad wanted to share with her adoring playmate. Via. Ironically, the Way, in Latin. Viakuntapali Merter escort bayan was its full name. In truth, it was older then the Tyrians and the Torah. It was erotic and supposedly cast a spell on the players to make them fall for each other. According to legend, the Goddess Rati played it with her son and consort to teach him the ways of pleasuring a woman. Her son was an innocent boy and she was a middle aged woman. But she did play with him because of the magic of that game and they did end up making passionate love after the game was played. Actually, they played with their own bodies while the other watched and they finally finished together to the intimate view of the others’ orgasm or so the legend goes.
On day when she wanted to mess around she said, “Let’s play that board game!” That seemed a little weird to the chunky old woman, so she elaborated: “It’s the sexy board game!” she exclaimed with uncharacteristic glee. She was trying to act more American as far as she understood and it was definitely working on the young man. Her loose transparent robe draped an adorable pear-shaped body. How she tingled all over at that moment feeling is eyes reluctantly take in her ripe mature hips.
“It’s very historical. Have you heard of shoots and ladders?” She led him to the back as she talked. Lush, Esoteric and Eastern art hung everywhere in gaudy display. She could see he was enraptured by her collection and his eyes shone with curiosity. She pointed out the silkscreen of a couple in foreplay. A young man was worshiping the droopy breasts of a gray-haired older goddess.
“The goddess who was both mother and lover to her only son,” the short Indian woman blushing. She looked away quickly and led his attention elsewhere.
“You will love the board,” she said and brought the game down. They sat down on different couches opposite one another.
“Let’s see who goes first.”
They chatted along and she asked him the questions that people want to be asked. She got him to talk about himself. So he willingly told her about where he lived and then his current life and his past life and other things. She, also, opened up to him. She told him about her previous trips back home and her future plans.
The first steps were part of set up. It was a very ancient version of snakes and ladders. They had to light strange incense on the board. There was also a small bag of costume jewelry and an array of oil with various exotic names. A picture of a hookah. What was amazing was that each square had a number on it. Not only that but a title, too. Furthermore, each had a footnote that led to further explanation in the thick rule book.
The first few spaces told them to light the incense and partake in whatever they were already doing which was smoking weed in this case. Then came off their shoes and extra clothing. The costume jewelry came on then one arm or leg at a time. The whole time the bongs kept coming like in some drinking game. A necklace. It was made a jingling sound now when they moved. This made them sound like wind chimes. The made their own music and their heads were spinning from all these strange things at once. And suddenly they both felt so sexy and needy and so ashamed of it all at once that the easiest path to go was to submit to this feeling, stay quiet to avoid public disgrace, and continue the game. Having fun, relaxing, sweet smoke and music all around them.
The game had a section like a spice bazaar. The pictures looked like a line of merchants from different lands that sold spices. So when they landed on a space then they had to try on that oil from the different oils. A bad one was like a snake that led down to other parts. They rubbed it on the ankle and feet as per instructions.
They put pieces on the board and rolled dice. Yoga positions. The positions were very easy at first but got fairly challenging. The other player had to keep track of the time and keep watch over each other with a tiny hourglass.
Feeling awkward, he stepped into a particularly challenging position making sure his feet were aligned and his hands over his head.
“Okay, now stand there.”
Azad turned over the miniature hourglass and picked up her drink. She admired his body and how the yoga make it taut all over. He groaned at his predicament but said nothing.
After an eternity of silence, she said “Okay honey, that’s time, good job!”
On her turn, she had to do a very different position. Her face was burning as she got down on the floor. On his turn, he was given a choice. Either he could hold one of the more painful positions or remove his top. The idea of being bare chested around her seemed very scary to him, too revealing and crossing boundaries that could not be uncrossed. But after reviewing the options with his host, he thought she was okay with the idea and removed his shirt.
Then both were involved in a stance. A physical dance part that was exhausting. They were breathing and sweaty. A command to lose some of the clothing was welcome. They stripped down. Tasks were different now. Like crawl or something or stand. If you lost a footing, you lost the square challenge. Sometimes the task was to say something cute and embarrassing like “I am your Servant,” in various positions of submission.