After a moment,
Sindhu mentioned that she was in the mood for a strong coffee. It seemed I was
craving the same, so she directed the maid to prepare it. But I wanted to
immerse myself further in my newfound role, so I suggested, “I’ll make the
coffee with the cook, and bring it to the room.” I smiled, eager to experience
the simple act of preparing coffee in this new persona.
I made my way to the
kitchen, where the cook was already busy. As this was my first time in the
kitchen wearing a saree, I quickly realized that my pallu was getting in the
way. Carefully, I tucked it around my waist, allowing me to move more freely.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, and I poured the dark liquid
into two cups, placing them on a tray with a sense of accomplishment.
As I entered the
bedroom, I noticed that Sindhu had gone to the washroom to freshen up. When she
returned, I was surprised to see her in boxers and a loose T-shirt, her hair
tied up in a casual bun. I had never seen her like this before. Her eyes lit up
when she saw me holding the coffee tray, and she winked at me playfully as she
sat on the bed.
After settling in,
she placed a pillow on her lap and patted the bed next to her. I placed the
tray on the table and handed her a cup of coffee, noticing how perfect it felt
in my hands. I took my own cup and savored the rich taste of the coffee. “This
is really good,” I said, and Sindhu agreed, smiling.
After a sip, Sindhu
took my cup from me, and I took hers in return. We both exchanged a smile that
said more than words could. Then, she asked, "How are you feeling?"
The happiness must
have shown on my face because I couldn’t stop smiling. I nodded, the expression
on my face clearly showing that I was thoroughly enjoying this moment.
Sindhu seemed
curious, her gaze softening as she asked, “What colours do you like ? What do
you enjoy most as a woman?”
After finishing our
coffee, Sindhu handed me her empty cup and asked me to place it on the table.
However, I wasn’t eager to leave it in the room. Lost in the moment, fully
immersed in my new role, I decided to take both cups to the kitchen and place
them in the sink. As I walked through the house, I felt an overwhelming sense
of connection to this feminine side of myself, so much so that I paused to
adjust my saree pleats and pallu in front of the mirror. The soft fabric flowed
so elegantly, and I couldn’t help but smile, feeling good about the way I
looked.
Just as I was
admiring myself, Sindhu called me from the other room. "Come
quickly," she urged, her voice a soft yet insistent whisper. A sudden rush
of awareness hit me, and I realized I had been so lost in the moment
that I had forgotten where I was. In a hurried step, I rushed toward her room.
When I entered,
Sindhu asked me to close the door and lock it. The temperature in the room felt
cooler than the outside air, a comforting contrast that seemed to envelop us in
a more intimate space. As I sat down beside her, I noticed her relaxed demeanor—she
seemed at peace, almost serene.
Then, with a soft
sigh, she closed her eyes and began to inhale the fragrance of the jasmine
flowers that were carefully arranged nearby. The gentle scent filled the air,
adding to the tranquil atmosphere. Slowly, she moved her hands toward my waist,
and I felt the warmth of her touch as she began to caress it. Her hands softly
grazed the edges of my saree pleats, and I couldn’t help but feel a deeper
connection to the moment.
I was completely
immersed in the emotions of it all, not entirely sure what was happening, but
allowing myself to go with the flow. The gentle touch, the intimate
atmosphere—it all felt so natural, and I allowed myself to feel every bit of
it, not questioning but simply being present in the experience.
Slowly I surrendered
to her tender guidance, was made to lie on the bed. Her lips traced a path
across my skin—forehead, nose, lips, neck, navel and on my saree pleats, each
touch igniting a spark within me. While kissing she kept her hand on my legs
and without knowing I lifted my leg. She lifted my saree along with petticoat,
exposing my smooth legs. I found myself instinctively responding, my body
speaking a language of its own.
Her movements were slow and deliberate. Though
I tried to hesitate, but sensation of her actions and desires left me
breathless. My eyes became heavy with emotions. I was just holding her hands
allowing her to do what she wants. After caressing my body, she tried to remove
safety pins one after the another. With a nod, I granted permission for her to
continue. she slowly removed my saree and blouse. Her fingers danced across my body. All these
while I was just closing my eyes and co.operating her actions. She started
staring at me for a moment till I open my eyes, when I opened my eyes, she
kissed my eyes and slowly removed bra. I resisted to remove my petticoat and
panty, however it was not in my control. I was unable to open my eyes, but she
took control of my hand, and then I realised, that she was wearing strap on
dildo. I felt a momentary shock of surprise. As everything is new for me, I found
myself curious and open to this new experience. she slapped on face and made me
look at her dildo once again, inviting me to give blow job.
In that wordless
exchange, I found the courage to embrace the unknown. With a mixture of
nervousness and excitement, I nodded, signaling my willingness to explore this
uncharted territory together. I started opening my mouth and she inserted dildo
deep inside my throat which became very tough and slowly acted accordingly.
After some time, she made me to lick her pussy and she released lot of orgasm,
which filled my face.
Once she is
satisfied, she made me lie on bed. She slowly whispered that this time, don’t
worry you have vagina now and with that she applied lubricants to her hands and
inserted in the vagina, which was directly touching my hole and it generated
spark in me. As the intimacy deepened, she inserted in my vagina, which was
slightly painful for a moment, but was exploring different experience.
After a long, quiet
stretch of time, both of us felt the weight of exhaustion. I had unknowingly
fallen asleep, resting my head on her hand, and when I woke up, there was a
soft, comforting smile on her face. I wasn’t sure how long I had been asleep.
She picked up the
clothes scattered on the floor—the petticoat, saree, bra, panty and blouse—and
in a calm, almost commanding voice, instructed me to wear them. The request,
though simple, felt heavy. I hadn't anticipated this tone. I wrapped the
blanket tightly around my breast and trying to hide the nervousness that had
begun to settle in. I stood up, not sure of my next move, but following her
like the only option.
When I walked towards
the washroom, she asked, with a quiet authority, that I dress in front of her.
I felt a deep shyness surge through me, unsure of where to look, unable to meet
her eyes. Slowly, I dressed, my hands trembling slightly as I slipped into the
panty,bra, blouse and then the petticoat.
I can feel petticoat and saree had many wrinkles this time, as Sindhu
removed saree and petticoat with a force like hungry lion. I adjusted the saree
petticoat around my waist.
The act of draping
the saree, became a challenge as I focused on getting the pleats correctly and
ensuring that it falls exactly in the middle and over the vagina. It wasn’t
easy—every fold seemed to require more attention, more patience than I had in
me. But I pushed forward, guided by memories of the lessons I had once learned.
The jasmine flowers in my hair had become untidy, but Sindhu ordered me to keep
the flowers as they were, a symbol of the fragility I felt.
As I stood before
the mirror, trying to adjust my bindi, I was startled when she approached from
behind. Her touch was firm. She pressed her hand gently on my back, and felt
her artificial shaft pressing me from behind, reminding me of the quiet power
she held in this moment. I turned quickly, out of an instinct to protect my own
space. Her hands moved to hold mine, her gaze locking with mine, and for a
moment, there was silence—an unspoken understanding. She kept her hand on my
waist where there is gap between blouse and saree
She softly spoke,
her voice carrying the weight of something deeper than a command. "Be the
lady of this house."
No comments:
Post a Comment