Love in the Flats

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(This series will be told in several parts. Taboo in the Indian setting is huge, considering the main concept of sex itself is taboo in this society. Also included will be some hardcore stuff, Incest, Reluctance and since it’s quite long, the beginning might be just setting the background. *all characters involved in sexual acts are above 18 years of age.)

1.

Sarita was happy and reasonably so. Even though it was going to be short. She didn’t want to spoil the mood of her lover with whom she was talking to and had been spending the afternoon with for a while now.

They both were sitting under the shade of the shed made of dry thatch of coconut leaves. The air was hot but it couldn’t have been better for the lovers as they knew hardly anyone would bother to come out in the sweltering heat. They both needed privacy and that was what they were getting for a meagre sum of fifty rupees that Sarita had to pay to her little brother from saying anything about this ‘private’ meeting and to keep a lookout for both her lover and her own father lest they come out to search for them.

Her lover snuggled to her and squeezed her round, juicy breasts making Sarita squeal in pleasure.

“You’ll make a great mother.”

“Really? Why do you think that?”

“The sheer size of your breasts on the mouth of your child, feeding him on the very first day, will make him the happiest child ever born.”

“Shut up you dirty rascal.” She scolded him playfully and blushed. She proceeded to let her hands reach down from below his dhoti and cupped his balls, gently squeezing them.

“My dirty rascal” She said.

Her lover groaned and pulled her to him kissing her lips deeply as she maintained her pace on his balls. She parted away and pulled on his lower lip.

Then she went down on him and after removing his dhoti, underwear she let his throbbing dick out. She began to stroke his dick with both her hands while maintaining eye contact with him. She saw him arch his back in deep pleasure and

he called out her name.

“Fuck Sarita. You’re the best. Ah!”

His dick made squishing sounds on her hands as beads of precum emerged from his penis’s head. Her bangles jangled noisily as she continued to stroke him. His dick was large now. She leant forward and swallowed the head of his dick. Her lover placed his hands behind her head as she sucked him. Her head bobbed up and down on his dick, her tongue swirling around his thickness providing more lubrication than necessary. Her lover suddenly stood up his dick still in her mouth and began to shove himself inside her, which she allowed him to do. He didn’t last long and Sarita soon feeling him erupt inside her mouth, continued to bob her head on his dick, his semen splattering her entire mouth and most of it leaking to the ground, staining her yellow cotton saree, her blouse, her neck and the straw bed. Her lover collapsed on the heap behind, while she licked her lips and proceeded to lie down next to him. Then she looked at him and exchanged glances as he too looked back at her.

“My uncle is going to kill me for the mess that I’ve made.” Her lover said.

They both laughed. Then Sarita fell silent. She turned to her lover and with pain in

her heart and tears in her eyes she said to him.

“I’m sorry da. I really love you, you know that since we were young. But Appa decided for me and my marriage has been fixed. I can’t bring myself to say this to you, but please, please…forgive me.” she looked down not daring to look at his eyes.

He didn’t say a word. Just merely dressed himself up and stood. He waited like that for some time before asking her something that she never forgot in her life, the moment she’d heard it.

“Why?” it sounded simple, but for her it meant different things. She would’ve changed her mind, but before she could do anything her lover had hopped out of the shed and walked away from her life forever, leaving her alone in that shed, crying and helpless.

That night she got married to a wealthy doctor from the City, a match made in heaven many of her relatives said and her husband took her away from the life she’d grown tired of but a life nonetheless that she could always relate to, the life of her childhood, permanently to the city of Chennai.

Sarita gave a huge sigh. She appeared lost in thought. As usual her mind straying to her time in her native village when she was a carefree, village girl before getting married, settled and birthing two successful children who were settled abroad.

What kind of thoughts I’m getting in the morning, she thought to herself as she shook her head and began to go about the foremost of her duties in the early

morning. Decorating the front of the house with white kolam, a colored powder which south Indian women use to adorn the front of their house with.

It was a tradition among Tamil women to do so, but to see a woman of her stature maintaining such adherence to it was something that people around her appreciated very much. Even though her husband, an about to retire doctor, who was so much popular in his ordu escort days of work had made her easily the most enviable person in the area or at least amongst the women in Sarita’s social circle, she never showed any arrogance and only remained modest. But she was never allowed herself to be portrayed as a gullible woman.

She knew if she showed people that, they’d use her for their own purposes, so she decided to be open. At first there was a bit of hesitation among the wives of her husbands colleagues but eventually she was accepted and became an integral part of the Wives of Doctors Association. She was soon invited to the All Women’s Club in Adyar where she became a rising star.

All the women like her for her open attitude and never felt uncomfortable around her. If anyone needed to talk politics Sarita was the woman. If anyone needed to talk dirty she was it.

All this attention also brought her to the attention of several males, mostly her husbands colleagues and others were people living in nearby houses. Her husband Dr Venugopalan or Mr Venu, as he was more commonly known as, had with some money bought a large place in Adyar and built a long, two storeyed flat. It was divided into two blocks. Block A had two flats on each floor and the same went for Block B. Sarita ended up deciding on most of the construction, maintenance of the apartment and conversing with the tenants who lived.

She did all this without complaint, though inside she felt herself grow hollower day by day. She didn’t hate her husband but Venu just didn’t have the quality or lacked the ability of compassion. And she had stopped expecting it from him.

Her hardworking, graceful, dark fingers slowly and beautifully traced the line between the dots as she applied the finishing touches to her kolam. She was squatting, her body supported by her strong legs, her blue nighty pulled up to her knees revealing a brownish tinge of hairless legs, ankles adorned with silver anklets that made noise every time she adjusted herself and rings on her toes that gave a sensual feel to her legs.

She was breathing softly and her attention was completely invested in her work, when she heard the milkman’s motorcycle outside. The milkman came towards the gate, placed the milk packets inside the bag hanging in the gate and looked longingly at Sarita. Sarita didn’t bother much, having got used to the many gazes she received and finishing her kolam, she stood up and went inside her house that was on the ground floor.

The milkman too went away after a while, his vision for the day satisfied. The

watchman of the apartment saw the milkman and addressed him.

“Ay, ommalle (a cuss word in tamil, abusive to one’s mother), finished ogling the woman? Go do your job.”

“‘Na, you get to watch her the whole day, won’t you give us the pleasure too?”

“Bah! Get lost, before the owner sees you.”

“I wonder, Venu is such a lucky bastard no?”

“Hardly!” the watchman smirked. He came close to the milkman and whispered.

“He doesn’t even notice her nowadays. Forget sleeping with her.”

“Ah! I see you’re informed.” They both sniggered as the watchman playfully hit the milkman on his head and told him to be on his way.

“Watchman! Watchman!” Sarita called. He hurried towards her voice.

“Coming madam.” He grabbed the bag with the milk packets and hurried to her door.

2.

Vijay was trying to sleep in vain after being woken up by his alarm that began to ring every morning sharp at 6. He wanted to sleep longer so he decided to delay his routine by sleeping for 10 mins extra but ended up sleeping for an hour. He kept tossing and turning, even after realising it was 6:58 am now.

He gave up and flinging his bedsheets aside he rose up, half sleepy. His eyes squinted at the sunlight hitting him from the gaps in the curtains of his windows. He looked around.

“My life’s a fucking mess.” He declared to himself. He made his way carefully among his strewn clothes, his shoes, socks, ties, and laptop and entered the bathroom safely. He didn’t bother wearing clothes as he lived alone in his room and no one came up to bother him. And it also helped him save money on the electric bill for without clothes, he didn’t feel very hot. The only problem were the mosquitoes which never ceased to stop irritating him no matter how he kept the windows and doors sealed most of the time.

He sat on the bathroom commode and went about his business. Finishing that, he checked his reflection in the mirror as he brushed. He looked horrible. With his unkempt hair, rough facial hair making him look like a beggar. But his skin looked healthy despite being in Tamilnadu and had no dark shade. He was recollecting about a dream he had been having between 6 to 7 am.

In the dream he was making love to his landlord’s hot wife, Sarita while behind him his older sister was scolding him for not cleaning the bathroom. For Vijay the dream was both horny and scary. He glanced down. His dick was hard and he wanted to masturbate badly, but he checked himself ordu escort bayan from doing that. After brushing, Vijay who was now sweating due to the stuffy air grabbed a mug of cold water he’d stored the previous night and poured it on him. It gave him a shock and he hated it. The cold also brought down the raging hard-on he had along with his body heat.

He stepped out and reaching his cupboard he took a fresh pair of ironed clothes and began to put it on. Just as he was struggling with his pants he noticed a message from Sarita amma (that’s how everyone called her). She wanted to talk about something with him. Vijay quickly dressed up and texted to her that he would come down in a minute.

3.

Anirudh was breathing laboriously while he began to beat his meat. He was fantasizing about his aunt while doing so. After all, what won’t a person living all alone with no supervision do? He soon began to ejaculate and he let the streams pour in an arc before it reduced its speed to flow downwards. Tired and spent after his ‘activity’ he was just about to sleep off when he heard someone knock and open the door to his flat.

He quickly covered himself in his bedsheet.

“Who is it?” he asked aloud.

“Oh thambi, you got up? That’s good.” It was Sarita, his aunt. She opened the door to his bedroom and Anirudh froze.

“Oh aunty! Um. . . I was about to come out, but…”

“No. no. It’s no bother. I just came to check on you.” Sarita looked around and was pleased. Anirudh on the other hand felt horrible. To masturbate thinking about someone and to have that someone come visit you just after that was awkward.

“Oh by the way, Devi came. She’s just outside. Shall I send her in? What a marvellous job she has done, no?” Devi was the girl for hire. She’d worked in most of the apartments in the locality and was a constant in the late Mr. Desai’s flat. She was Anirudh’s age and he had to put up with her for she was ordered by his loving aunt to keep his room clean and help in his life too. But Anirudh disliked her. She knew most of his bad habits, the smoking, drinking, and his fantasy for his aunt and she made no secret of the fact. Instead she constantly made fun of him. But not to upset his aunt he allowed her and kept quiet whenever she did.

Sarita went away. Phew, Anirudh sighed. He got up and was about to go to the bathroom when he bumped into Devi. The fact that he was naked didn’t bother her for she’d grown accustomed to it.

“Umm.” She squinted her nose as he passed her to the bathroom.

“You did it again didn’t you?”

“That’s none of your goddamn business.”

“Oh really? Then shall I tell her?”

Anirudh leaned out from behind the door and glared at her smiling face. She was pretty even though she was brownish and small. Her petite beauty would’ve appealed to him but now she only made him feel humiliated and angry.

“How long will you continue to threaten me like this?”

She began to sweep the floor as if she’d not heard him. Anirudh growled and rushing out, he grabbed her hand forcefully, making her gasp in pain.

“Answer me!” Devi struggled against him. Anirudh only tightened his hold on her.

“Let me go. I’m not your bitch.” She spat at him. Anirudh let her go. They both looked at each other before Anirudh turned to go back to the bathroom. Devi shouted after him.

“If you mend your ways then that day I’ll stop.”

“Oh, what? Don’t women pleasure themselves? Don’t you or do you even know such a thing?”

Devi threw the broom down and tucking her dupatta into a knot around her waist she stormed inside the bathroom.

“Yes I do know to pleasure myself. And I do it. But I don’t make it a spectacle for everyone to see.”

“This is my house. I pay the fucking rent. You’re just a servant. Who the fuck are you to judge me, huh?”

Devi froze hearing those words from him. She felt a bitterness grow inside her and felt like crying aloud. But she didn’t. If it were someone else’s home she might’ve just left. But she liked Sarita and though she didn’t admit it she liked Anirudh too. So she went out and began to furiously clean the room.

After a while after several ignorant glances passed between them, Anirudh got dressed and went out leaving the keys with Devi for locking the door afterwards. Devi sat down after he’d gone and began to cry bitterly cursing Anirudh for ever having come into her life.

4.

The Kumars could be called the most dysfunctional family that lived in the entire apartment. The husband was tired of his wife who loved him less and less each day. Mrs. Kumar or Anusha was fed up with her husband for some reason or the other and didn’t make it less obvious in front of everyone. She believed that she deserved a better husband than an old one like she had. Their daughter Priyanka was a bomb and a very unstable one that was prone to explosions at any time.

Sexy, talented, unconcerned was what she was.

That morning Priyanka’s room was locked from the inside, as usual and she was fast asleep sleeping naked in her escort ordu bed like a sexy Greek goddess.

Her parents on the other hand were involved in something else. As was every day’s routine Mr Kumar snuggled to his wife who reluctantly allowed him to play with her breasts. But when he made the usual request of sex she pushed his arm away. Mr Kumar grumbled and got up. Anusha didn’t want to argue with him, especially today as she didn’t want to go teach in the school with a bad mood. So she stopped her husband.

“Suno, I’ll also join you. I’ll give you that hand massage you like.” She faked a smile at him, which made him happy and he began to strip. Anusha got up and removed her bangles. She untied her hair and then smoothing it, she picked up a ribbon from the bedside table and tied her hair in a bun.

“Do you want me to be naked?” she asked him, though knowing very well what the reply was going to be.

“Definitely dear. You know how I love to see you naked.” Came his voice from the bathroom.

‘Gloat nicely asshole. You just got lucky because I didn’t want to spoil the mood.’ she said to herself as she removed her nighty and entered the bathroom. She saw him seated on the plastic stool that was kept for either washing clothes or for these occasions. She saw his passion and felt a bit sick. She really didn’t want to do this. Not because she abhorred the act but because she despised the man she was doing it to. She preferred to do it with someone else. To, someone else.

Anusha didn’t bother closing the door. She sat down, cross-legged, on the floor so that she faced him and his tiny dick. For some reason it appeared much larger today but she guessed that was because she hadn’t seen it for a long time.

She moved closer and held her husband’s dick in her right hand while the other supported her on his thigh. She began to tug on it gently and it began to grow. His pre-cum sloshed out on her hand and she saw him groan in pleasure. He closed his eyes and straightened his back. He brought his hands on her head and began to close the gap between her mouth and his dick. She gulped in disgust but allowed him to rise up and lower his cock into her mouth. She opened her mouth and swallowed his cock completely, her head moved forward and backwards as he made her suck his wet dick. She suddenly felt cold water splash on her back and realized he had switched on the shower. She shivered in the cold but couldn’t protest for his dick was preventing her from speaking. She felt his dick grow inside her mouth and wished he’d remove it so she could finish him off with her hand. Miraculously that was what he did.

The moment he pulled out of her mouth she began to stroke his now hard dick, which was slippery mixed with her own saliva and his juices. His hand was still behind her and he lustily said.

“Jaan why don’t we fuck? It will make this so romantic.”

“Honey, I’d love to but there’s no time. But we can definitely do it later, ok?” saying so she continued to give him a hand job noticing his face fill up with disappointment. He suddenly pulled out of her hand and turned to make her face his hairy ass. She knew what he wanted and proceeded to do the same, keeping her face away from his ass.

She reached below and grabbed his dick from behind. She began giving a hand job that way for he said it appealed to him. She felt him knead her voluptuous breast and she gave out fake moans of pleasure. She felt him shiver and she began to increase her pace wiping off the water that was pouring from the shower on them incessantly. He told her he was about to cum and turned around. She let go off him while he brought her face close as he stroked himself. He wanted to make her bathe in his juice and after a while he let go, telling Anusha to finish it.

She stroked fast her mouth hitting his dick’s head in the process. Kumar lowered himself down, not able to stand for so long. She continued with what she was doing preventing herself from sucking him and proving his attempts vain. He spread his legs as he came and he let out a cry of pleasure. Anusha felt herself relax and she squeezed out his remaining energy. His come splattered on her face, her lips and her breasts all dripping down and mixing with the water.

“Hanh, bas, bas!” he said and dismissed her. He got up to leave.

“Can you get a towel for me?” Anusha asked her husband. He mumbled a yes and got a towel for her as Anusha began to scrub off her body of her husband’s semen.

Mr Kumar looked hungrily at his wife as she bathed herself. Ever since he’d seen her, he only remembered lusting for her. Her rich, smooth white skin, her shapely body only made him agonize as his hardness grew persistent the more he continued to see his naked wife’s body. Sometimes he felt jealous of the schoolboys who he definitely knew wouldn’t resist ogling Anusha.

But for some reason Anusha harboured a deep dislike for him. He didn’t know what it was exactly but he wanted to. He could sense this cold hostility from her that he couldn’t fathom. He so desperately wanted to please her but they only ended up fighting each other in the end. Kumar had wrapped a towel around him and was standing in the kitchen drinking a glass of water. He glanced at the time. He realized he was late. Not that it was much of a problem but he didn’t feel like delaying any longer and began to dress up.

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