“Sorry ma’am,” he croaked again, apologizing to her right breast instead of her.
“It’s normal to be excited at your age, as I said,” Pooja replied.
She reached out under the table and placed her right hand on his crotch. She felt his penis twitch underneath her hand. Arpit moaned.
“Take it out, Arpit,” Pooja said. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”
But Arpit just stared at her breast, open-mouthed. Pooja sighed and got up from her chair. She knelt down in front of him, opening all her blouse buttons showing him her right breast in full. Her left breast remained partially hidden behind the blouse and saree, but from where he sat, Pooja knew Arpit could see a lot of it. She unzipped his jeans and through an act of unusual dexterity fished his erect penis out through the opening, pushing down his underwear underneath the zip.
Arpit moaned as Pooja took his manhood in her right hand. She pushed down his foreskin to reveal a glans that seemed to have some kind of white fluid dried all over it. The boy had probably had a wet dream the past night, Pooja thought.
“Don’t you clean your penis?” Pooja asked. She spit into her hands and rubbed her saliva on his glans with both her hands, cleaning the solidified discharge off his glans. Arpit moaned and shuddered, his eyes closing involuntarily. She wiped his penis dry with the folds of her saree. As she did so, the blouse opened completely, revealing her left breast as well. She felt Arpit’s penis twitch as he stared at her breasts.
“What if aunty…” Arpit began.
“She never misses a second of ‘Baba’s Bhakti’, not even the ads,” Pooja replied, looking at his tense face mischievously as he ogled her breasts. “We have twenty minutes. And even if she walks in, I’ll tell her you forced me to do it.”
“What… no…” Arpit began but Pooja jerked his penis immediately and he moaned.
“I can tell you have never done this,” Pooja said as she jerked him slowly but firmly with her right hand. “No girls in your college?”
“No… college… girlfriend…” Arpit replied cryptically as Pooja continued to pleasure his organ.
Pooja suddenly increased the pace at which she was jerking him. Arpit clenched his teeth and began to stare at Pooja’s breasts with animal lust.
“You can touch them, if you want,” Pooja said, guiding his left hand to her breasts, even as she continued jerking him.
Arpit squeezed her right breast in his hand, holding on to it as if for dear life. Pooja clenched her lips shut to avoid herself squealing at his painful touch.
Suddenly, Arpit’s penis erupted, without warning, releasing a large amount of semen all over Pooja’s right hand and his own crotch; he clasped Pooja’s breast in an iron-grip as he came. Arpit groaned loudly, some of his semen flying in to Pooja’s hair. Pooja smiled; the semen was warm, voluminous and exceptionally viscous, almost as if it was the boy’s first time with a woman. She wiped Arpit’s semen off her right hand on the insides of her blouse. She then buttoned up her blouse, feeling the cups of the garment now stick to her breasts with Arpit’s sticky semen as a sort of adhesive.
It had been months since she had felt semen on her skin. It felt good – even oddly satisfying in a way.
“Clean your penis well when you come here next time,” Pooja said. “And I will let you put it inside me.”
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