The preparations for the upcoming ritual at our home were in full swing. My parents had hired an Iyer mami. She was known for her exceptional cooking skills and handling the kitchen duties. As soon as she stepped into our home, her presence commanded attention.
She was dressed in a traditional madisaar. Her elegance and grace were undeniable. Her midriff peeked out tantalizingly between the folds of her saree. I couldn’t help but feel a surge of desire. Her name was Lakshmi, and she was probably around 35 or 40.
Her poise and confidence came from experience. Despite being married and having a son, there was something about her that drew me in. I caught her eye once or twice. The way she looked at me made it clear that the attraction was mutual.
As the rituals began, the house was bustling with activity. Guests filled the hall, chanting and performing various rites. Lakshmi mami worked diligently in the kitchen. I gravitated towards the kitchen more often than necessary to catch a glimpse of her.
Each time our eyes met, there was an unspoken understanding, a shared desire that neither of us could ignore. At first, Lakshmi maintained her distance, carrying herself with a dignified air. She focused on her tasks, barely acknowledging my presence.
Her demeanour was respectful and reserved, befitting her role and status. However, small moments started to reveal her hidden desires. I would catch her stealing glances at me when she thought I wasn’t looking. Her eyes would linger a bit too long on my physique.
A faint blush would colour her cheeks whenever our gazes met. It was clear that beneath her composed exterior, there was an intense attraction. I entered the kitchen to grab a glass of water. I found her struggling to reach a spice jar on the top shelf.
Without thinking, I moved closer and reached up to get it for her. Our bodies brushed against each other, and I felt a spark of electricity pass between us.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice a bit breathless, her eyes not meeting mine.
“Anytime, mami,” I replied, handing her the jar. I let my fingers linger on hers a moment longer than necessary.
A little later, while she was kneading dough, I noticed a streak of flour on her cheek. I stepped closer and wiped it off gently with my thumb, our faces inches apart. Her breath hitched, and she looked up at me with wide eyes.
“You had some flour,” I said, my voice low and husky.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink.
As the afternoon progressed, our interactions became bolder. While she was washing vegetables at the sink, I stood behind her, reaching around to grab a towel. Our bodies pressed together, and I could feel her warmth through the thin fabric of her saree.
“Sorry,” I murmured, not moving away.
“It’s… it’s okay,” she stammered, her voice barely audible over the running water.
Finally, the moment came when we were alone in the kitchen. The sound of chanting and the hustle outside created a perfect cover for our private encounter. I approached her, my heart racing with anticipation.
“You look beautiful in this attire, mami,” I said, my voice low and husky.
Lakshmi turned to face me, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. “Thank you,” she replied softly, her eyes locking with mine. “You should focus on the ritual, not on me.”
“But how can I when you’re the most captivating thing here?” I stepped closer, my hand reaching out to touch her exposed midriff.
Her breath hitched, and she closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the sensation. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered. But the desire in her voice betrayed her words.
“I know, but I can’t stop myself,” I murmured, leaning in to kiss her neck.
She let out a soft moan, and her hands found their way to my shoulders, pulling me closer. The kitchen seemed to disappear around us as we lost ourselves in the heat of the moment. My hands roamed over her body, feeling the smooth silk of her saree and the warmth of her skin underneath.
Lakshmi responded with equal fervour, her fingers digging into my back as our kisses grew more passionate. The forbidden nature of our encounter heightened the excitement. Making every touch and every kiss feel electrifying.
We moved to the far corner of the kitchen, hidden from view but still aware of the ongoing ritual outside. The risk of being caught only added to the thrill. Lakshmi’s breath came in short gasps. I kissed my way down her neck and over her collarbone. My hands explored every curve of her body.
“Please, we have to be quick,” she urged, her voice filled with urgency and desire.
I nodded, understanding the need for discretion. Our movements became more urgent, more desperate. We sought release in each other’s arms. I kissed her neck softly at first, then more firmly, trailing my lips over her collarbone. I could feel her trembling under my touch, her breaths becoming shorter.
I moved closer, our faces inches apart. I could feel her breath on my lips, hesitant and unsure. I leaned in slowly, giving her time to pull away, but she stayed, her eyes fluttering closed as our lips met in a soft, tentative kiss. It was a gentle exploration at first, both of us feeling the newness and the excitement.
Lakshmi’s lips were warm and soft, and I could taste the sweetness of her breath. She sighed against my mouth, her hands tightening their grip on my shoulders. I deepened the kiss, my tongue brushing against hers, coaxing her to respond. She did, her hesitance melting away as our kiss grew more passionate.
Our tongues danced together, and I felt her shiver against me. Her hands slid down my back, pulling me closer, pressing our bodies together. The kiss was everything I had imagined and more, a perfect blend of passion and desire. My lips travelled lower. My hands explored the curves of her body.
I hesitated at her midriff, placing gentle, teasing kisses around her navel. Lakshmi’s breath hitched, and she let out a soft gasp. Encouraged, I circled her navel with my tongue, feeling her shiver in response. Each touch, each kiss, seemed to stoke the fire between us.
Lakshmi’s hands gripped my hair, pulling me closer and urging me on. I kissed her navel again, this time more passionately. Lakshmi’s moans grew louder, her breathing more ragged. She arched her back, pressing herself against me. The tension between us was palpable, building with each passing second.
My hands roamed her body, feeling the smooth skin and the heat radiating from her. I traced my fingers along her sides, down to her hips, and back up again, savouring every curve. Lakshmi’s reactions only spurred me on, her body responding to my every touch.
Finally, I kissed her navel deeply, my tongue exploring the delicate skin. Lakshmi’s entire body shuddered, and she let out a low, throaty moan. I could feel the intensity of her arousal. The forbidden nature of our encounter made it all the more thrilling.
This was the peak moment, the culmination of our desire. Lakshmi’s fingers tightened in my hair, pulling me even closer. “Oh, God,” she whispered, her voice a mix of pleasure and urgency. “This feels so… so good.”
I pulled back slightly, looking up at her flushed face. “You feel amazing,” I replied, my voice thick with desire. “I can’t get enough of you.”
We stayed like that for a moment, savouring the intensity of our connection. Finally, we pulled apart, breathless and flushed, our hearts pounding in unison.
Lakshmi adjusted her saree, smoothing down the fabric with trembling hands. “This can’t happen again,” she said, but her eyes told a different story.
I nodded, knowing that our attraction was far from over. “We’ll see,” I replied, a hint of a smile playing on my lips.
The ritual outside was still in full swing and would continue for several more hours. We stepped out of the kitchen, blending back into the crowd of guests. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation for our next encounter. The ritual might have been ongoing, but the spark between us had only just begun.
To be continued.
She was dressed in a traditional madisaar. Her elegance and grace were undeniable. Her midriff peeked out tantalizingly between the folds of her saree. I couldn’t help but feel a surge of desire. Her name was Lakshmi, and she was probably around 35 or 40.
Her poise and confidence came from experience. Despite being married and having a son, there was something about her that drew me in. I caught her eye once or twice. The way she looked at me made it clear that the attraction was mutual.
As the rituals began, the house was bustling with activity. Guests filled the hall, chanting and performing various rites. Lakshmi mami worked diligently in the kitchen. I gravitated towards the kitchen more often than necessary to catch a glimpse of her.
Each time our eyes met, there was an unspoken understanding, a shared desire that neither of us could ignore. At first, Lakshmi maintained her distance, carrying herself with a dignified air. She focused on her tasks, barely acknowledging my presence.
Her demeanour was respectful and reserved, befitting her role and status. However, small moments started to reveal her hidden desires. I would catch her stealing glances at me when she thought I wasn’t looking. Her eyes would linger a bit too long on my physique.
A faint blush would colour her cheeks whenever our gazes met. It was clear that beneath her composed exterior, there was an intense attraction. I entered the kitchen to grab a glass of water. I found her struggling to reach a spice jar on the top shelf.
Without thinking, I moved closer and reached up to get it for her. Our bodies brushed against each other, and I felt a spark of electricity pass between us.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice a bit breathless, her eyes not meeting mine.
“Anytime, mami,” I replied, handing her the jar. I let my fingers linger on hers a moment longer than necessary.
A little later, while she was kneading dough, I noticed a streak of flour on her cheek. I stepped closer and wiped it off gently with my thumb, our faces inches apart. Her breath hitched, and she looked up at me with wide eyes.
“You had some flour,” I said, my voice low and husky.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink.
As the afternoon progressed, our interactions became bolder. While she was washing vegetables at the sink, I stood behind her, reaching around to grab a towel. Our bodies pressed together, and I could feel her warmth through the thin fabric of her saree.
“Sorry,” I murmured, not moving away.
“It’s… it’s okay,” she stammered, her voice barely audible over the running water.
Finally, the moment came when we were alone in the kitchen. The sound of chanting and the hustle outside created a perfect cover for our private encounter. I approached her, my heart racing with anticipation.
“You look beautiful in this attire, mami,” I said, my voice low and husky.
Lakshmi turned to face me, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. “Thank you,” she replied softly, her eyes locking with mine. “You should focus on the ritual, not on me.”
“But how can I when you’re the most captivating thing here?” I stepped closer, my hand reaching out to touch her exposed midriff.
Her breath hitched, and she closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the sensation. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered. But the desire in her voice betrayed her words.
“I know, but I can’t stop myself,” I murmured, leaning in to kiss her neck.
She let out a soft moan, and her hands found their way to my shoulders, pulling me closer. The kitchen seemed to disappear around us as we lost ourselves in the heat of the moment. My hands roamed over her body, feeling the smooth silk of her saree and the warmth of her skin underneath.
Lakshmi responded with equal fervour, her fingers digging into my back as our kisses grew more passionate. The forbidden nature of our encounter heightened the excitement. Making every touch and every kiss feel electrifying.
We moved to the far corner of the kitchen, hidden from view but still aware of the ongoing ritual outside. The risk of being caught only added to the thrill. Lakshmi’s breath came in short gasps. I kissed my way down her neck and over her collarbone. My hands explored every curve of her body.
“Please, we have to be quick,” she urged, her voice filled with urgency and desire.
I nodded, understanding the need for discretion. Our movements became more urgent, more desperate. We sought release in each other’s arms. I kissed her neck softly at first, then more firmly, trailing my lips over her collarbone. I could feel her trembling under my touch, her breaths becoming shorter.
I moved closer, our faces inches apart. I could feel her breath on my lips, hesitant and unsure. I leaned in slowly, giving her time to pull away, but she stayed, her eyes fluttering closed as our lips met in a soft, tentative kiss. It was a gentle exploration at first, both of us feeling the newness and the excitement.
Lakshmi’s lips were warm and soft, and I could taste the sweetness of her breath. She sighed against my mouth, her hands tightening their grip on my shoulders. I deepened the kiss, my tongue brushing against hers, coaxing her to respond. She did, her hesitance melting away as our kiss grew more passionate.
Our tongues danced together, and I felt her shiver against me. Her hands slid down my back, pulling me closer, pressing our bodies together. The kiss was everything I had imagined and more, a perfect blend of passion and desire. My lips travelled lower. My hands explored the curves of her body.
I hesitated at her midriff, placing gentle, teasing kisses around her navel. Lakshmi’s breath hitched, and she let out a soft gasp. Encouraged, I circled her navel with my tongue, feeling her shiver in response. Each touch, each kiss, seemed to stoke the fire between us.
Lakshmi’s hands gripped my hair, pulling me closer and urging me on. I kissed her navel again, this time more passionately. Lakshmi’s moans grew louder, her breathing more ragged. She arched her back, pressing herself against me. The tension between us was palpable, building with each passing second.
My hands roamed her body, feeling the smooth skin and the heat radiating from her. I traced my fingers along her sides, down to her hips, and back up again, savouring every curve. Lakshmi’s reactions only spurred me on, her body responding to my every touch.
Finally, I kissed her navel deeply, my tongue exploring the delicate skin. Lakshmi’s entire body shuddered, and she let out a low, throaty moan. I could feel the intensity of her arousal. The forbidden nature of our encounter made it all the more thrilling.
This was the peak moment, the culmination of our desire. Lakshmi’s fingers tightened in my hair, pulling me even closer. “Oh, God,” she whispered, her voice a mix of pleasure and urgency. “This feels so… so good.”
I pulled back slightly, looking up at her flushed face. “You feel amazing,” I replied, my voice thick with desire. “I can’t get enough of you.”
We stayed like that for a moment, savouring the intensity of our connection. Finally, we pulled apart, breathless and flushed, our hearts pounding in unison.
Lakshmi adjusted her saree, smoothing down the fabric with trembling hands. “This can’t happen again,” she said, but her eyes told a different story.
I nodded, knowing that our attraction was far from over. “We’ll see,” I replied, a hint of a smile playing on my lips.
The ritual outside was still in full swing and would continue for several more hours. We stepped out of the kitchen, blending back into the crowd of guests. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation for our next encounter. The ritual might have been ongoing, but the spark between us had only just begun.
To be continued.
