“Oh, Bahena!” Sundar gasped. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry! I guess I should have locked the door!” Sundar apologized. Gokuldham Society : Ch 7
Dayaben Gada, Garba-queen of the great Gokuldham Society, stood motionless in the open door to the bathroom, gaping wide-eyed at her naked brother as he dripped water on the tiled floor. His enormous, half-swollen cock hanging between his thighs would have been more at home on a donkey than on such a innocent-looking 21 yrs old young boy like Sundar. Daya instantly felt her pussy moistening and the nipples of her firm, round tits stiffening through the thin Saree as she stared at her brother’s big prick. Her face reddened at the same time… how could any decent woman feel sexual desire for her own brother ? she wondered.
“I… I’m sorry, Bahena,” Sundar stammered. He grabbed a towel from the rack, swiftly wrapped it around his waist and edged past her into the hall. He disappeared into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.
Daya leaned against the bathroom wall and took a deep, quivering breath. The image of her brother’s huge cock was branded in her mind’s eye, and her pussy was throbbing as she thought of his cock. Her pussy was growing so wet that she could feel the moisture of her fuck-juices on her inner thighs. Only three days ago, her only son Tappu, had made a silly pass at her. It hadn’t amounted to much, just a leering attempt to prolong an innocent, motherly embrace, and a warm, lecherous hand stroking her full, peach-shaped ass through her saree.
But she had been horrified that Tappu wanted to commit some sexual motions with her. He was now staying with his grandma ( Daya’s mother ) Padmabati at Ahmedabad. Daya had explained the problem frankly to her widow mother, who had recently devoted her life in praying for the Goddess after her husband’s death.
Daya desperately hoped that her mother would be able to help Tappu with his bizarre desire to fuck his own mother. Though, she knew very well, it wasn’t really so surprising after all. It would have been different if she’d been ugly, but Daya was an incredibly gorgeous woman just like Hindi film-actress Preity Zinta. Her hair was long, wavy, framing a beautiful, ruby-lipped face that had aged little in her thirty-seven-years, and which still earned her frequent offers to be a professional model.
She was average in height, with long, show-girl legs, a slim waist and the kind of full, firm, saucily-wiggling asscheeks that men couldn’t resist pinching whenever she was in a crowded bus. But her best features were her incredible tits. Her shoulders and bone structure were delicate, almost girlish, and yet her tits were huge… two great, firm, milky-white melons that jiggled invitingly in even her most restrictive D-cup bras.
Her nipples were luscious, too… a deep red in color and as wide as a baby’s palm, with rubbery tit-buds that protruded nearly an inch when she was horny. She was nearly always horny these days, she thought shamefully. Ever since the wife swapping incident in Babita’s block and the formation of the “Holy Housewives Club”, her pussy got dripping wet when she did housework in the morning, and, her cunt was frequently just as hot and wet.
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