“I need to pee Sam, and dry up a bit, she asked him.
Sam’s eyes took in her wholsome, well stacked form and licking his lips, he led her into his house. Deen’s eyes followed his mother’s wet ass, which could have as well been naked. But it was lustier than naked and hornier than nude in that tightly clinging wet saree. He felt that he may like to give it a thorough spanking till she yelped.
Chapter 9
Sam as he was affectionately called by friends was actually Sameer and a budding photographer cum artist. He looked at Manya with his deep eyes taking in every ounce of her wet and lightly trembling body. The tremble was caused on account of the light breeze caressing her wet skin. He led Deen’s mother inside his apartment and guided her to the bathroom. His parents were still involved in the winding up of the morning’s activities and could take another half an hour. Recognizing Manya’s urgency to take a pee and her equally urgent need to rid herself atleast of the drip in her clothes, the considerate neighbour told her to use the toilet while he fetched the dryer for her hair. Manya tread softly on the carpet, hoping the colour water drip from her juicy body would not damage the carpet. Her whole body was coated in red, including her face. If she were to make a first appearance in this manner, none would recognize her by face. But now everyone in the area would recognise her by her voluptuously stacked body, more so by her flaring ass with the big butt cups. Almost all the men would recognize her blindfolded by feel too, going by the way they all manhandled and dunked her. Truly she had become the neighbourhood wet dream and yet she maintained her own aura and control over things, managing to make everyone feel exclusive and special. In short nobody would fuck and tell on Manya. Nobody wanted to be denied of her horny body by doing so.
The whole house was silent as Manya entered the bathroom and left the door open for Sam to bring the dryer later. She could have shut it and opened it when he knocked, but somehow didn’t do it. Bunching her saree around her waist, she sat with her naked asscheeks on the toilet. As she was peeing, she also twisted her wet saree, extracting all the dripping water from it and placed it around her knees in front, bunched up, but covering her thighs over the toilet seat. Then she removed the saree pallu from her shoulders and squeezed it too, draining all the water from it. As she pissed, she once again experienced a throbbing in her loins. This time the throbbing relaxed only the pee pressure but retained the other pressure – the pressure of her accumulated horniness. The entire morning she was fondled, squeezed and dunked into water and also experienced the exhibitionistic thrill of being on display during the little games. The whole series of events where she was treated as a pure lust object, but under the overall garb of dignity gave her a licentious thrill. The two robust fucks given by Salman did gratify her senses but not fully. The sex was hurried, though thrilling. Moreover she got horny all over again during the skips where she felt fifty pairs of eyes simply boring into her luscious form. She did consider stopping when her pallu had dropped, but in a wicked burst of horniness, she had continued. The dozens of hands that had felt her wet body up at the water tank only served to stimulate her desires higher and higher and she was fighting a valiant battle not to let her arousal show. Doing all this in front of her son Deen did bother her for a minute but she was sure that he would understand it was all part of the celebrations. Her peeing moments were also moments of sexual introspection and as the last few drops of pee dripped out of her juicy pussy, she felt decidedly horny and awakened.