Village Wife Fuck by Bottle gourd Part 1

Title: The Village Wife’s Bottle Fuck

The blistering sun beat down on the quaint village of Mudhalli, a sleepy hamlet nestled in the heart of rural India. Amidst the terraced fields of lush paddy and the quaint mud houses, one woman stood out – Laxmi, a voluptuous beauty with heaving bosoms and alabaster skin, married to the local chieftain, Mahendra.

Laxmi was known far and wide for her bombaic proportions, bountiful bosom, and bulbous bottom.itched, her curvaceous figure would make peasants’ pants mysteriously bulge as she sauntered by, hips swaying hypnotically. But Laxmi was no mere wallflower; she had a fiery spirit to match her fiery hair.

Cumorously, destiny had decreed that Laxmi, with her glandularly enhanced assets, be wed to a man whose virility had waned before he reached manhood. Mahendra, though a wealthy nobleman, possessed a mere morsel between his legs, which rendered him impotent and frustrated.

One sweltering afternoon, as Laxmi lounged on her divan, sipping on cool palm toddy, Mahendra burst in, face flushed with anger and embarrassment. He brandished a hand-lettered balled parchment. “You’ve shamed me, Laxmi!” he bellowed, his sparse beard quivering. “The Chitpavan courtesans mock me for my lackluster performance!”

Aghast, Laxmi leapt to her feet, her ample assets bouncing wildly. “How dare they!” she fumed. “I’ll teach those harlots a lesson they’ll never forget!”

Mahendra cowered before Laxmi’s wrathful gaze. “Please, my dear,” he whimpered, “do not harm them. I bear the burden of my own folly. I am… inadequate.”

Laxmi’s lips curled into a wicked smirk. “Inadequate? Don’t be ridiculous, darling. We just need to find a solution. And I think I have an idea.”

Smiling coyly, Laxmi sauntered over to a wildly wobbling Mahendra. She gently caressed his pale cheeks and sultryly whispered in his ears, “Why don’t we visit the village temple? I’m sure the gods will provide us with a divine solution.”

Mahendra, though skeptical, nodded obediently. Together, they ventured to the ancient temple dedicated to the Goddess of Fertility in her most sensuous incarnation.

As they entered the dimly lit sanctum, soft, sensual strains of music filled the air. Performing in the inner chamber, a voluptuous dancer danced slowly, undulating her hips and slithering serpentine arms. Overcome with desire, Mahendra’s lips quivered and his manhood twitched for the first time in years.

The dance concluded, and the veiled enchantress turned to them. “My child,” she addressed Mahendra, “your sorrow has touched my heart. But fret no more, for the Goddess has a gift for you.”

She presented a polished, ebony wooden box, its lid adorned with shimmering rubies. As Mahendra opened the box, his eyes widened in amazement. Inside lay a glittering glass phallus, glistening like a diamond under the flickering oil lamps.

“The Goddess blesses you with this divine dildo,” the dancer explained. “It possesses the power to rekindle your manhood and sate the craven yearnings of your beautiful wife.”

Gratitude swelled in Mahendra’s heart. He thanked the deity and the dancer profusely. Clutching the precious gift, he and Laxmi returned home eagerly.

That night, as the amorous couple lay entwined on the silken sheets, Laxmi slowly peeled away Mahendra’s protesting clothes, revealing his emaciated form. She teased him mercilessly before revealing the divine dildo.

Mahendra, though hesitant, allowed his wife to guide him. She parted her dark, dense, downy curls to reveal her dripping womanhood. Gliding the phallus over her pulsing petal-soft petals, Laxmi moaned in sheer rapture, her slippery sheath succumbing to its slick sliding.

Lost in ecstasy, she, unconsciously, inserted the entire length of the godly glass into her glistening genitalia. Her voluptuous body thrashed in wild abandon as Mahendra’s puny penis twitched in feeble imitation.

Laxmi’s bodacious bosom bounced rhapsodically until she finally crested a demanding climax. Her entire body shuddered as she came, climax cries crashing from her cock-sized golden throat.

From that fateful night forward, the divine dildo became Laxmi’s ultimate lover. Whenever her virile husband lay bamboozled by her boisterous body, the bottle came to her biological disposition, completely satisfying her sexual soirees.

Chief Mahendra, while feeling ashamed, was happily married and his gonads mysteriously inverted in Laxmi’s neglected loins and all for the divine fun and games of the bottle.