covered my mouth with my hand as I came hard from the self-induced orgasm. My body thrashed and writhed as I came for several seconds. I felt a sense of relief wash over me when it ended, as if an enormous burden had been lifted. I didn't realise when I fell asleep in that state.
-
I woke up in the morning a little later than usual. I slept well all night and needed rest for the hectic week ahead.
I freshened up and went downstairs to find the house completely silent. There was no one in the house. I then remembered that everyone had planned to go to a temple in a nearby town. Aai had insisted I join them, but I excused myself out of the plan because I was too tired to wake up that early.
I went to the kitchen and made myself a cup of tea. I knew everyone would be back by lunchtime and I had a good three hours to relax. As I was having tea, I heard some movement in the house. I followed the noise to the ground floor bedroom and noticed the backdoor of the bedroom open. That door led to a small garden in the back.
I walked to the door and peeped through to find Baba using a wooden mace to work out. He was lifting it and then swinging it around his shoulders before repeating the same the other way round. He was wearing only a langote, a loincloth worn around the groin.
He saw me and smiled at me while swinging the mace around him.
"Good morning!" he called out.
"Good morning, Baba. I am sorry I disturbed you. I'll leave you alone," I said.
I was about to turn around when he said, "Nonsense. You aren't disturbing me. I don't mind you sitting here. I will have someone to talk to."
"Okay," I said before sitting down on the stairs in front of the door.
"You didn't go to the temple?" he asked.
"Aai had asked me, but I was too tired after a long journey. And anyway, we will be going back after the wedding." I replied.
"Yes. You should rest. The next few days are going to be hectic," he said.
"Why didn't you go Baba?" I asked him as I took a sip of tea.
"I have some work at the dairy in the afternoon. It will be too hectic after a visit to the temple. That's why I arranged a bus for everyone to go together. They will be back by afternoon," he replied, swinging the mace around him. He had done at least 20 reps since I saw him and I knew that the mace was very heavy.
"You work out like this every day?" I asked, out of curiosity.
"Yes... every day for the last 50 years," he replied proudly.
I knew he wasn't lying. It was obvious looking at him. He was tall, easily six feet tall. All men in this family were tall. Rahul was as tall as Baba and Nikhil was a couple of inches taller than both of them.
Baba wasn't just tall, he was lean and muscular. He was an athlete during his younger days and maintained himself over the years. There were several photos of him during his younger days in the house, and his incredibly fit body was evident in those photos. Though with age, the aesthetics of his body had changed, but he still was an incredibly fit man.
All that rigorous training and discipline had rewarded him. He looked a lot younger. Some even teased him and called him Anil Kapoor for looking a lot younger than age. Not that he looked like Anil Kapoor, I thought he was better looking.
Right now he was standing in front of me, dressed in only a langote. He had a head full of hair, which had streaks of grey, a chiselled face with a sharp jawline and sporting a thick moustache, common among Indian men his age. He had broad shoulders, lean muscular arms and pecks and a flat stomach. His chest was full of grey hair which spilled over to his abdomen. His thighs and legs were muscular, too. The langote barely covered a couple of inches below his crotch, revealing nearly everything. It didn't matter that he was old, Baba possessed a body that far younger men would envy.
I didn't realise when I started staring at him. He noticed, but didn't say anything and continued working out for another couple of minutes before slamming the mace to the ground. The loud thud of the mace pulled me back from my trance.
"Rahul used to work out with me too before he got selected," Baba said as he wiped the sweat off his body with a towel. He stood with his hands on his hips in front of me as he spoke.
"Yeah... He used to during the early years of our marriage. Now he doesn't get the time. He leaves for work early but does go for a short morning walk," I replied.
"Haa... morning walks... at least he should run," Baba replied dismissively.
"He was very fit when we got married and still is compared to men around him. But trust me, Baba, government jobs, or at least his job, isn't easy. He barely gets time," I replied.
"Yes... I remember we both used to do over a hundred push ups back then," he said proudly.
"I have seen him do only fifty," I said.
"Rahul has gone soft. At forty, he can do only fifty pushups? I can still pull off a hundred easily," he said.
"Baba, you're just boasting now. C'mon. A hundred pushups at your age? Aren't you 60 years old?" I said dismissively.
"I am not boasting. I will prove it to you right now," he replied in a challenging tone.
"I am right here Baba." I replied.
"How about a bet? If I can do a hundred pushups, then I win," he challenged.
"Okay... I accept," I replied playfully.
Baba handed me the towel and stood in the middle of the garden, a few feet away from me. He then got on his hands and feet in the pushup position.
"Keep a count," he said, looking at me.
I nodded. "One... two... three..." I started counting. He started really strong. Going up and down quickly. "Twenty one... twenty two... twenty three..." I kept counting as he kept doing pushups.
The loincloth was wet with sweat and sticking to his butt. It was white, and I could clearly see through. His muscular back flexed with each rise and fall.
"Forty Eight... Forty Nine... Fifty..." I counted.
He suddenly stopped, still crouching over. He looked at me and said, "This is where your husband stops. Now watch me." Then he winked.
I bit my lips in embarrassment as I watched him go back to work.
"Seventy seven... Seventy eight..." I kept counting, and the man showed no signs of stopping, just maintaining a steady pace.
"Ninety... ninety one... ninety two... C'mon Baba... just eight more..." I started rooting for him. Even if he stopped now, I would concede. It was clearly a very impressive feat for a sixty-year-old.
"Ninety nine... Hundred..." I counted the last push up.
He stopped and kneeled, raising his hands in victory. I also raised my hands and clapped, very impressed.
"I won... I told you this 'old man' still got it," he said cockily.
"Okay, okay... I accept defeat... Now... what do I have to do?" I asked between the laughs.
"Well..." he said as he got up and started drying his body with a towel. What I immediately noticed was that he was not out of breath, not even close. "How about you apply oil to my body right now? I will go for a bath. Usually Suman does it, but today she's not here," he said. Application of oil to the body is a common practice in India where the weather can be dry and hot. Oil keeps the skin lubricated and soft.
"Uhhh... you want me to apply oil to your body right now?" I asked.
"Yeah... right here... Suman does it every day," He replied, plainly.
"Baba... but here in the garden, someone might see us." I replied with a bit of hesitation and embarrassment.
"Aaah... then that's not a problem. We can do it in the bathroom. That way, I can have a bath immediately after," he said as he climbed up the stairs and stood next to me. "C'mon..." he patted my shoulder and went inside.
I trembled as I felt his hand on my shoulder. The idea of rubbing oil all over my near naked father-in-law not just embarrassed me; but to my shame, it also aroused me. And why wouldn't it arouse me? I had clearly seen the man displaying his extraordinary physical prowess, all the while showing his incredible body.
I looked around to check if anyone had seen us. After making sure the coast was clear, I got up and went inside.
When I entered the bathroom, Baba was already sitting on the small stool, and I thanked God he hadn't taken off his langote. I pulled up the gown above my knees and tied it in a knot around my waist. That way I kept it from getting wet and it also allowed some room to move freely.
I then poured a generous quantity of warm oil, which I had fetched from the kitchen on one hand before rubbing it on both of my hands. Starting from his shoulders, I applied and rubbed in the warm oil using deep strokes. I then went down to his arms. I had seen his muscles from a distance and now I could feel them with my hand.
His muscles were hard, his skin was soft, yet firm. I knelt down before taking another fistful of oil. Baba sat up straight and pushed his chest out, giving me room to oil his torso. Just like his shoulders and arms, his chest was muscular and well defined. His stomach was almost flat with just a bit of fat, which was okay, considering his age. His muscles and the thick patch of hair on his torso felt different, but good.
"Hmmmm... your hands are soft, but you know how to do a deep massage, Shalu..." Baba said appreciatively.
"Hehe... thanks Baba... I used to do this to Rahul quite often but now apply oil to him only on Diwali morning," I replied.
I tried to maintain a sense of composure, but inside I was burning. My body felt hot, I had goosebumps already and my pussy was throbbing and leaking. I looked in the mirror behind him and saw my cheeks had turned red from a flush of blood.
After I finished oiling his torso, I stood up and went behind him. I then took the bowl of oil and started pouring the oil directly onto his back. It needed a good quantity, as he was large. I then started rubbing his back, pushing my fingers deep into his skin.
"Ummm... that's good... that's the spot..." he moaned.
I slowly rubbed the oil all over his back, focusing on his shoulders and arms and then sliding down to his back. I spent a few minutes massaging his back.
"Done Baba... now you can have a bath." I said as I stood up.
"We are not done. What about my legs?" he said with a mischievous smile.
"Can't you do it by yourself?" I pleaded.
"Bet is a bet. I won, and you lost. Now be a gracious loser and finish what you started," he said tersely.
Son and father are both so competitive, I thought. Rahul too loved a challenge and would enjoy making me work after winning. "Okay Baba," I replied.
"How about you sit on the stool and I will stand. That way, you can massage my legs easily," he said before standing up.
Baba then held my hand and guided me to the stool. I sat on the stool and he stood in front of me, barely half a foot away. His langote covered crotch was right in front of me. I looked up at him and he gestured to me with his raised eyebrows to continue.
With a palm full of oil, I started massaging his feet, slowly moving up his legs. They were remarkably muscular and his calves were firm because of years of regular exercise and the physical nature of his work. I spent some time massaging his calves and shins. I looked up at him now and then and he looked back at me with a smile - a rather triumphant smile.
The house was empty and I, a 35 year old married woman, was massaging my 60 year old father-in-law's legs, in his bathroom. My father-in-law had just a thin loin cloth covering his crotch, whereas I had a flimsy cotton nighty on with my legs showing as I had pulled by my gown up to my knees for ease of movement.
"I am sorry, I have a very hairy body," he said, looking down at me.
"Why are you sorry, Baba?" I asked curiously.
"Young girls like you find hairy men repulsive, don't they?" he asked.
"Haha... the media has brainwashed our generation with hairless men, so..." I said, shrugging.
"But a hairy body is a sign of high testosterone," he said.
"Yes... I have heard that..." I replied, trying to gauge the direction of the conversation.
By now my hands were roaming freely on his thighs, massaging them with oil. I was careful not to let my hands wander close to his crotch. I had stolen a few glances, and his erection was obvious. Unlike last night, he was not only a few inches away from me and this time, he wasn't wearing a lungi. I could clearly make out his erect phallus under the thin cloth of the langote.
"And men with high testosterone also have a high libido," he said suggestively.
"Ah... so that's why Rahul has a hairy body too... no wonder he wouldn't keep his hands to himself," I replied teasingly, steering the conversation in a completely different direction.
"Ah... yes... yes... that may be the reason," Baba said, stumbling for words, clearly taken aback.
"Can you turn on the hot water tap, Baba?" I asked, continuing the massage. He turned on the tap and the hot water started pouring into the bucket next to us.
A couple of minutes passed in silence as I continued massaging his thighs and legs and he kept watching me. I kept stealing glances at his tightly bound erection, unsure if he knew I was. This time his penis was forming a tent in his langote, but rather than straight up, it pushed back against his groin. It looked like a cucumber stuffed sideways under the langote. But the cloth was thick, which is why I could only make out its contour and couldn't see it properly.
I had to resist a powerful urge to touch it. My hands wandered near it, with the tip of my fingers brushing against the lower end of the langote. Every time my hands reached near, I could see his erection strain against the langote, as if trying to burst out. I could feel goosebumps rise on his body and on mine too.
'It looks as long as Rahul's, but... is it really that thick?' I wondered. Maybe the cloth was adding to the appearance of its unusual girth, I thought.
The bucket was now full and overflowing with warm water. I stopped the massage and stood up. "Baba... why don't you sit on the stool? I will give you a bath today," I said, pointing to the stool.
Baba looked surprised at my words. He looked at the stool and then at me for a second. "Shalu... the bet was only for an oil massage," he said.
"Yeah... but I thought I might as well do this, too. Your son doesn't have the time to get pampered by his wife; I thought maybe you'll like some pampering in his place," I replied.
"Hahaha... Unlike my son, I won't leave chances of being pampered by a pretty lady like you," he said and enthusiastically sat on the stool.
I stood in front of him with a mug of hot water and poured it on his head. Some of the water splashed on me, making my gown a little wet. After pouring a couple of mugs of water on his head, I took a dollop of shampoo in my hand and started applying it.
"You still have very nice hair, Baba. It's so thick and smooth. What's your hair care routine?" I asked him as my soapy fingers ran through his luscious hair.
"Hair care routine? What's that? it's just genetics, Beta," he replied with a chuckle.
"You're blessed in so many ways," I said.
"Really... what am I blessed with?" he asked.
"A nice head of hair, a great body, and a great co..." I abruptly stopped before I blurred it out foolishly.
"A great what? What was the last thing?" He probed naughtily.
"A great family... a great family..." I replied and started giggling, and so did Baba.
"Ya, God has been kind to me, but he has been generous to you," he replied.
"Generous? Ya, I mean I am married into a wealthy family and my husband is a senior bureaucrat," I replied before I poured a couple of mugs of warm water on his head, washing the shampoo away.
"Yes, but I didn't mean it that way," he said.
"Then what?" I asked naively.
"Buddhu... God has been generous to you. He has given you a very beautiful face and a great body," he replied.
"Great body?? I don't think that's true," I replied dismissively. I sat on my haunches and started applying soap on his body. I was now face to face with him as my hand roamed freely on his body, soaping it.
"Don't be so modest, Shalu. You know you have a great body," he replied.
Even though I tried sounding modest, Baba was right. God had been generous to me. I am five and a half feet tall, taller than most Indian women. My Indian genes have given me a head full of thick, luscious hair which flows down to my back. I wasn't fair like a kashmiri or a pahadi girl, but my slightly dark complexion added to my radiant, expressive eyes and a sharp nose. I have full, pink lips, which my husband loves to kiss and munch on.
In college, I was known as the skinny girl with big tits. My 32C breasts looked large for my petite frame, but after marriage and motherhood, my body filled up in the right places. My breasts grew to 34C. I went from wearing a size 28 pant to size 36. Fortunately, my stomach stayed relatively flat, and the growth happened mostly in my butt and thighs. Hair was always sparse on my body, even in the pubic area, and I made sure to remove it regularly, making my skin smooth, unblemished, and flawless. I had become what my husband teasingly called a MILF.
"It's not Rahul's high testosterone levels to blame, you know?" he said, breaking the silence.
"Huh...what?" I fumbled as he broke my chain of thought.
"There is more than one reason why Rahul can't keep his hands off you," he said.
"Accha? And what is it?" I asked.
"With a woman like you around him, it would be near impossible for men to resist the temptation, and that includes me," he replied shamelessly.
I looked at him with my eyebrows raised. He looked at me and winked. My soap coated hands were on his chest as we continued staring at each other.
"You're such a flirt, Baba..." I said with a giggle and playfully threw a handful of water on his face. He turned his face away laughing and then started splashing water on me, too. We splashed water on each other, laughing and giggling like teenagers. He grabbed the mug and was about to pour the water on me when I pushed him away and tried running out of the bathroom. He tried grabbing my hand and pulling me back, but my soapy, slippery hands slipped out of his grip and I ran to the door.
"Hey... we are still not done here," he called out.
I stopped at the bathroom door and looked back at him. He was covered in soap with just the wet, flimsy langote around his hip. I giggled looking at him and said, "Resist the temptation," and walked out.
When I walked into my room, I thought Baba would follow, but luckily, he didn't. He quietly finished his bath and got ready to go out. Baba knew he was treading a thin line and pushing it too far too early was unwise. He called me from the courtyard and told me he was going out for work and would be back by evening.
I was extremely aroused and turned on. He was flirting with me openly, and I responded to his advances. I feared falling to the temptation myself, having spent the entire morning with my stud father-in-law, watching his body closely and then touching his body during the bath. I spent the whole time aroused and dripping wet.
I was going to masturbate and relieve my arousal, but before I could, I heard the horn of the bus. Aai and the rest of the family were back. I quickly changed my clothes and went down to meet them. I spent some time with them and then went for a bath before proceeding with the rest of the day.
-
The rest of the day was uneventful. Baba came back by sunset and joined the family. We exchanged glances and smiles occasionally but kept our distance.
After dinner, the family dispersed with some men in the living area, ladies in the courtyard. Baba decided to go to bed early. Aai and the ladies decided to stick around and talk. I stayed with them for a while before retiring to my bed.