I Saw My Aunty Rest Alone In The Kitchen I Hugged Her And Started Fucking

The kitchen was bathed in the warm, amber glow of the setting sun. The aroma of freshly cooked food wafted through the air, mingling with the faint scent of spices and perfume. I stood in the doorway, observing the scene before me. There was my pretty aunt, alone in the kitchen. She was a MILF, a middle-aged man’s secret fantasy. Her curvy figure, her ample bosom, and that plump ass were a sight to behold.

She was wearing a traditional sari, the colour of saffron, with intricate golden patterns. The blouse was low-cut, revealing the luscious mounds of her breasts. The skirt was tight, hugging her wide hips and thick thighs. Her raven hair was tied back in a loose bun, with a few wisps falling across her face. And oh, what a face – full lips, high cheekbones, and eyes that could melt butter.

As I watched, she hummed a tune, swaying her hips gently as she stirred the pot on the stove. I felt a stirring in my loins, a growing desire that demanded to be satisfied. I crept up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist. She trembled slightly, surprised by the sudden embrace.

“Shh, it’s just me,” I whispered in her ear, my voice low and seductive.

She turned around in my arms, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. “What are you doing, bhaiya?” she asked, her voice quivering.

I ignored her question, my hands roaming over her body, feeling the softness of her skin, the fullness of her breasts. I leaned in, capturing her lips in a heated kiss. She resisted at first, pushing against my chest. But I was persistent, my tongue probing the seam of her lips, demanding entrance.

She surrendered, her lips parting, her tongue tangling with mine in a dance as old as time. I tasted her, a mixture of spices, sweat, and something uniquely her. It was intoxicating. My hands slid down to her buttocks, squeezing the plump flesh, pulling her closer to me.

She moaned softly, the sound muffled by our kiss. I felt her hands on my chest, pushing me away, but it was a half-hearted effort. I knew she wanted this as much as I did. I broke the kiss, trailing my lips down her neck, my teeth grazing her pulse point. She gasped, her head falling back, giving me better access.

My hands made quick work of her blouse, pulling it open to reveal her heaving breasts, barely contained by a lacy black bra. I pushed the flimsy fabric aside, my mouth descending on a nipple, sucking hard. She cried out, her fingers tangling in my hair, holding me in place.

I lavished attention on her breasts, alternating between nipple and breast, my teeth and tongue driving her wild with desire. All the while, my hands roamed her body, caressing every curve, every valley. I felt her hands on my belt, fumble with the buckle, before sliding down to cup the bulge in my trousers.

I groaned against her breast, my cock hardening at her touch. I stepped back, quickly divesting myself of my clothes. She followed suit, letting her sari slip from her body to pool at her feet. She stood before me, in all her naked glory, a goddess of love and lust.

I pounced, pushing her against the kitchen counter, my mouth finding hers in another searing kiss. My hands kneaded her breasts, pinching her nipples into hard peaks. She writhed against me, her legs parting, inviting me to explore further.

I trailed a hand down her stomach, my fingers brushing against her wet folds. She was dripping, wet and ready for me. I slid a finger inside her, then two, pumping in and out, curling against her G-spot. She bucked against my hand, her juices coating my fingers.

I withdrew my fingers, bringing them to my mouth, tasting her essence. She was sweet, with a hint of tang. I needed more. I dropped to my knees, pushing her thighs apart, my mouth latching onto her core. I licked and suckled, my tongue delving deep inside her, lapping up her juices.

She cried out, her hands fisting in my hair, holding me in place. I brought a hand up, my thumb rubbing against her clit as I fucked her with my tongue. She came undone, her body shaking, her sweet nectar flooding my mouth.

I stood up, licking my lips, savoring her taste. She pulled me in for a kiss, no doubt tasting herself on my tongue. I lifted her onto the counter, my cock nudging against her entrance. I paused, looking into her eyes, seeking permission. She nodded, her eyes heavy with desire.

I pushed inside her, inch by inch, feeling her hot, tight walls gripping me. I groaned, the feeling of being inside her sublime. I began to move, slow at first, then picking up the pace. She met me thrust for thrust, her hips lifting off the counter, taking me deeper.

The kitchen was filled with the sounds of our lovemaking – the slap of skin against skin, our moans and gasps, the creaking of the counter. I pounded into her, hitting that spot deep inside her that made her see stars. She came again, her body clamping down on my cock, milking me for all I was worth.

I followed soon after, my cock erupting inside her, filling her with my seed. I collapsed on top of her, both of us panting, our hearts racing. We stayed like that for a while, basking in the afterglow of our illicit tryst.

Eventually, I pulled out, watching as my cum dripped out of her used hole. It was a sight that would be forever etched in my mind. I dressed quickly, sneaking out of the kitchen before anyone could catch us.

As I walked away, I heard her humming again, the tune slightly different this time. A secret smile played on my lips, a memory of our naughty kitchen encounter. It was a story I would keep close to my heart, a cherished secret between us.