GOTRBHID MAHĀ BHĀRAT: Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté: 30

Gotrbhid Mahā Bhārat

Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté

‘Jāti Pānti Poochhé Nahin Koī,

Hari ko bhajé so Hari kā Hoī’

1/18: Ādi Parv

Durgesh

Previous Chapters

Chapter 30

Durgesh Arundhatī Joshī

Why Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act

She drifted down to her knees.

She brought her hands to my jeans, and as she undid them and worked the zipper, she glanced back up to see the utter pleasant shock on my face.

She pulled my engorged Bachhalyā shaft from my jeans and the thickness again amazed her.

Her fist worked around me and she stroked at me.

She hadn’t felt this emboldened, or this invigorated, in years, she knew.

She glanced up.

“Do you want this?” Her voice was meek but clear.

“Yeah!” My response was quick and sure.

We both chuckled.

With her still looking up into my face, she kissed the head of my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund.

Her right Joshī Brāhmañ fist moved determinedly on my Bachhalyā shaft.

We both knew she was shocking me with this, but we both also knew she was liking doing this and being shocking.

She kissed my head again, and as I moaned and looked down at her, she opened her mouth wide, pushing it down over my head and to where several inches went into her extremely beautiful Joshī Brāhmañ mouth.

She started sucking at me fervently, with her small fist pumping away at my length.

Her cheeks were reacting with each stroke of me she made.

I wasn’t going to last long and we both knew it.

I gripped her hair in my hands, and I started showing that I was close.

I narrowed my eyes and my brow tensed.

A sudden familiar sound startled us both.

The grinding sound of the garage door sliding open reverberated.

She flashed a panicked look at me.

“Hey, hey, hey! That’s Vinod!” Arundhatī Joshī snapped.

Much to my pleasant shock again, she didn’t even slow.

She just kept looking back at me and pumping me into her mouth.

She may have even picked up her pace, but otherwise she continued to suck my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund.

A car door slammed, yet my face never twisted even a bit with concern.

“We have to stop.” I urged.

The kitchen door opened downstairs and swung closed.

“Honey, I’m home.” Vinod Sharmā’s voice called out from downstairs.

Arundhatī Joshī still did not take me out of her mouth, and now I seemed to be pulling at her hair.

My eyes gave a look like I was surrendering to something within me.

We could both hear Vinod Sharmā at the foot of the stairs, and I spasmed violently, exploding into Arundhatī Joshī‘s mouth.

First, one full stream of my Bachhalyā sperm shot into her Joshī Brāhmañ mouth and throat, and then two more quick loads spurt about.

My body contorted and a third spray released.

Arundhatī Joshī gazed up at me with half-closed eyes.

Her Joshī Brāhmañ lips were still around me.

Steps could be heard making their way up the staircase, and Arundhatī Joshī let my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund pop out of her extremely beautiful Joshī Brāhmañ mouth.

The long, thick member remained semi-hard and a last release spilled into her Joshī Brāhmañ mouth.

I worked my jeans up and started fastening them.

I looked at Arundhatī Joshī, and she looked unsteady on her feet as she gave me a mischievous smirk and wiped at her mouth with two fingers.

Vinod Sharmā could be heard getting to the top of the stairs, and I watched Arundhatī Joshī dab the two fingers between her lips, licking them clean.

I watched in utter pleasant shock, as Arundhatī Joshī opened my bedroom door and stepped into the hall.

I stood at my door and watched Arundhatī Joshī go the few feet to where Vinod Sharmā was heading into their bedroom.

“Hey honey,” Arundhatī Joshī said to Vinod Sharmā, as she tilted Vinod Sharmā’s face towards hers.

Arundhatī Joshī planted a big, full kiss on Vinod Sharmā before Vinod Sharmā walked on into their bedroom.

I stood looking at Arundhatī Joshī pleasantly dumbfounded, as she looked back to me before joining her husband in their bedroom.

Arundhatī Joshī made a point of looking in the direction of my Bachhalyā crotch, and then she smiled.

She pointed to my jeans and then made an up and down motion with her fingers.

I looked down to see what she was referring to, and I then realized my jeans were unzipped.

I looked up and back at Arundhatī Joshī, who smiled brightly to me before ducking into the bedroom.

After the tumultuous Saturday, we all went to dinner together.

Vinod Sharmā drove, and Arundhatī Joshī was in the passenger seat, while I quietly rode in the back seat.

Vinod Sharmā talked golf, as Arundhatī Joshī peered out the window.

She felt a swirl of different emotions about the last two days.

She especially felt regret at having pulled the stunt she did just earlier, when she had gone up and kissed Vinod Sharmā once he got home.

That was stupid and wrong.

She rationalized it to herself by thinking about how elated she had felt at finally having had passionate sex with me, after years of her and Vinod Sharmā barely touching.

Even though it was with me, which was a whole other set of problems itself, it was still not justification for having done something so devious.

She swore to herself she would make it up to me.

The car was almost to the restaurant as she was also shocked, as well as delighted, that she had even let herself do some of the things she had done.

Sure, she had fantasized about different acts or such, but she had never really been a daring partner.

Not at all.

To have done the things she had in the last two days simply shocked her.

As we pulled to the valet, she flipped her vanity mirror down to adjust her makeup.

She used the opportunity to look in the mirror to the backseat at me.

I was looking ahead and clearly fixed in my own thoughts.

She felt jarring guilt.

She felt the guilt for having been the way she was at the party with me, and then she wrestled maddening guilt at the notion of having had sex with me.

Maybe she was going insane, she thought.

But just as she had already done in her previous reflections on the day, where she had kicked and thrashed herself inside for having had sex with me, her thoughts at once went to the both of us together.

It was like she looked at me in two totally different ways.

She knew she had to have some malady, she figured, but she looked at me as a Bachhalyā on one hand, and on another, she viewed me as this ever young, virile man.

She further justified clearly I was experienced with even Brāhmañ women already.

I had not been an unwitting victim, she believed.

I had pursued her, just as she had accepted my advances.

She also repeatedly thought of herself as pathetic in a way.

She could no longer claim to be a good friend’s wife.

She could never claim this ever again.

Plus, it was likely she had unalterably changed her relationship with me to where there would be at least some negative consequences.

All of these rational thoughts replayed in her head, but as if on cue, her focus shifted.
She stood, straightened her skirt and looked over at me who was also standing and looking over at her with a grin.

Yes, it was all of those things alright, but she still felt the way she did.

She loved me, and… well, she wanted me.

She felt a chill as we all went into the restaurant.

She held her head up, but she gave it a small shake in bewilderment.

All appeared calm and collected, but as we walked in together, she did so with the knowledge that her exchanged glance with me had made her wet.*

At our table, all the three of us soon were downing drinks.

Of course, I juices only.

Vinod Sharmā had his first of probably many Scotch and waters.

Arundhatī Joshī ordered her favorite Chardonnay, and I stuck with my usual juices.

There was a comfortable atmosphere despite the morning’s confrontation, as Vinod Sharmā and I talked up the football games going on for the weekend.

Arundhatī Joshī didn’t really join in the conversation, but she didn’t really mind either.

She took a devious enjoyment in sitting back and observing us.

Vinod Sharmā spoke as he understood I was conditioned to do, and that was authoritatively.

He’d learned long ago to think and feel confidently and it had served him well.

Plus, I was his friend.

He felt good speaking to me with assuredness.

Of course, Vinod Sharmā knew what the games meant for the teams involved, and Vinod Sharmā felt good about my view of who would do well.

I delighted in sharing this with me.

I had always felt there was an inconsistency with how interested my friend was in even talking to me.

He’d soak this up, even if at times Vinod Sharmā seemed kind of… smug.

I smiled to my friend and nodded.

I also occasionally stole looks at my friend’s wife.

I was amazed.

I saw this composed, elegant young woman, the same image I had observed for years.

But now, I also saw this young woman who looked just slightly steeled to where she was avoiding the visibility of layers that shouldn’t be seen.

One layer was a restlessness that contained an appetite.

This was a layer she didn’t want detected.

It was a layer that made her incredibly more interesting and desirable to me now.

For herself, Arundhatī Joshī wondered how these guys could care so much about such a meaningless thing as the football games.

Her glass never left her hand as she savored each drink of the white wine.

She couldn’t help but marvel somewhat at me, as I showed absolutely no discomfort or inhibition at the table at all.

Here I had just spent some of the day betraying my friend as severely as I could, and I seemed utterly unfazed.

She choked at her wine as she realized the exact same thing could be said of herself.

Both men looked concernedly over to her, and she waved us off.

We resumed our conversation effortlessly, as she resumed her thoughts on my lack of concern as well as her own.

In her mind, she and I just cared for each other deeply.

It was so intense that it was like we were compelled to show it physically, she told herself.

And, she concluded that this must explain my ease with the situation as well.

After a couple of more drinks and the appetizer, Arundhatī Joshī found herself looking more and more at me.

When I’d return her look, I gazed back with a look Arundhatī Joshī adored.

It was a cute but desirous look as well.

It was hard for her to believe, but exactly what she wanted.

She admonished herself that she needed to be careful, but part of her didn’t care.

She made herself participate more in some of our talk, but she started feeling that Vinod Sharmā was just acting too… smug.

It agitated her somewhat.

During the meal, Vinod Sharmā took stock of the evening and felt a sense of contentment.

I liked and admired his wife, regardless of whether he still found her desirable.

Their comfort and security with one another was one of the best things he valued.

As far as his other needs went, he had solved that issue some time back.

Just like on this particular Saturday, his routine was golf with buddies.

He inwardly grinned knowing his Saturday routine also always included the stop by his favorite massage therapist on the way home.

There was that hour of alone time and relaxation that always culminated in the young Musalmān woman finishing his massage in a delirious release that left him sated.

This never failed to calm him and make Saturday evening that much more enjoyable, knowing his every need had been met.

This evening was no different.*

The car ride home from the restaurant was quiet and subdued.

Everyone had eaten well and had enjoyed drinks throughout the evening.

Everyone was also lost in his/her own thoughts.

Once home, Vinod Sharmā and Arundhatī Joshī made their way straight to the kitchen for night caps to take upstairs to bed.

I went to my room to change into a t-shirt and gym shorts.

I was looking forward to watching the end of the football game on TV.

Arundhatī Joshī followed Vinod Sharmā back upstairs, and she found herself excited with an idea she’d come to over the course of the evening.

She changed clothes into a nice teddy while Vinod Sharmā readied himself for bed in the bathroom.

This would be her chance to make things right with Vinod Sharmā, she figured.

Vinod Sharmā stepped out of the bathroom and directed himself straight to the bed.

Pulling back the covers, he heard Arundhatī Joshī speak to me from where she was standing across from him before getting into the bed herself.

He saw the black teddy and grinned.

“Hey baby,” she purred and she tried to give a sly grin.

Vinod Sharmā chuckled.

He continued pulling himself into bed.

Arundhatī Joshī slipped under the covers beside him.

She slid over to him, and he felt himself brace as she did.

“Sweetheart, you look great,” they both knew there was a ‘but’ coming.

“I’m really beat tonight, you know? I mean, we partied last night. I played golf all day. Then, all the drinks and food tonight. I got to get some sleep, that’s all.”

Arundhatī Joshī patted at her hair trying to seem unaffected.

“Hey, I understand. Don’t worry. I can help you get to sleep, you know?” Her hand went to his side and rubbed him.

Vinod Sharmā shifted in bed, effectively moving from her.

“Tell you what, let’s hold that idea till in the morning. We’ll do just that. I’m beat tonight.”

Arundhatī Joshī flopped over onto her back on her side of the bed. She stared dejectedly up at the ceiling.

Then, she popped out of bed, shrugging off the nightie and pulling on her satin robe.

“I’m going downstairs for a drink.”

She pulled the door loudly shut, as she stormed from the room.

She tugged the robe tightly to her body, and she tried to compose herself as she descended the stairs.

Incredibly, she had gone from feeling buoyant and bright to weak and insecure in Vinod Sharmā’s swift rejection of her.

Just calm down, she told herself.

Propped on the sofa and engrossed in the football game, I noticeably brightened when she entered the living room.

Arundhatī Joshī beamed right back at me.

She was very grateful for my reaction.

“Hey,” she looked at me, then the TV and back at me.

“How are you doing?” I asked with a warmness in my tone.

“I’m okay.” She sat in a chair facing the sofa and she tried to show interest in what I was watching. “Who’s winning?”

I answered, but it was completely lost on her.

She nodded absently and acted like she was watching along with me.

I went about trying to explain to her how the pro football teams played Saturday night games when December rolled around, when they typically would not previously in the season.

Arundhatī Joshī listened and looked at me, but she didn’t seem genuinely interested in the subject, only in holding my attention.

I grinned appreciatively at her.

Arundhatī Joshī stood and walked to the kitchen.

She went to refresh her glass, knowing full well she should stop and leave well enough alone. There was a haze from the night’s indulgence that she was aware of and decided to continue to fuel.

She drank her wine and paced a couple of steps in the kitchen.

She found herself standing in front of the sink where a large clear window overlooked their back yard.

Arundhatī Joshī stared longingly out the window.

Her thoughts jumped around.

She could make out her reflection very well in the clean glass of the window.

She saw a younger woman that she wondered about.

She had this self-image, but she wondered now whether it fit.

She doubted her looks any more, and now she began doubting even her own judgment.

Hadn’t she made a huge mistake?

What could she be thinking, having these feelings about me?

Anant Brahmkanyā Ramañ, Anant Brahmāñī Ramañ, Bachhalyā.

Was she just desperate?

Was she just starved?

She drank more of the wine from her glass, and she gave an answer at least to the last question.

After the day she just experienced, she recognized that she had been missing a lot.

It was just the truth.

And, if she was being really honest with herself, the affection, and the sex, was still a need for her.

An important need, she admitted.

Against her better judgment, she thought about me and our time.

She took a deep breath as she thought about how I was and how I had made her feel.

She had to admit I had made her feel like she hadn’t in a very long time, if ever.

She silently stirred at how very well I had been with her.

Then, as if on cue, I materialized in the reflection of the window, and she saw I was now standing there behind her.

At first, neither of us spoke, even though we both acknowledged each other in the reflection with our looks to each other.

The tension was palpable.

Here she was downstairs with me.

She had come downstairs, leaving Vinod Sharmā upstairs in bed asleep.

She had come downstairs and found me here. And… She had stayed.

Arundhatī Joshī studied her glass for a moment and swirled it about. “Is the game still on?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s the score now?”

“I don’t care any more.”

She smiled at me in the reflection. “Good answer.”

I looked at her intensely.

“Why aren’t you in there watching it?” There was a hint of challenge in her tone.

“Because you’re in here.”

She chuckled at this. “Mmmmmm, even better answer.”

She pulled a long taste of her wine.

Then, as if thinking better of our banter, she added, “You should go back to your game.”

“I don’t want to.” My hands went to her arms and traced up.

I started massaging her shoulders, and she seemed a little surprised.

At first, she tried hard to act indifferent.

She seemed to resist showing any reaction.

This was what she should do.

“Well, you should.” Her tone was thin and unconvincing.

I brought my hands back down her arms, and I leaned much closer to her.

She saw in the window how my head moved closer to her own.

“We can’t be that way again.” She said it quietly. Resignedly.

I opened my hands wide and went from her arms to her sides still massaging her.

She closed her eyes at my touch.

“You’re crazy. This is wrong.” She was even quieter than before.

No conviction was behind the words.

My hands glided wide over her belly and she wavered as she watched my hands on her, mentally noting how wide my hands were.

Her belly felt on fire from me.

She then felt me press to her from behind, my body was solid and straight.

There was definitely a bulge down there, too.

“Please… stop.” She was completely unconvincing and her words flat.

I paused like I might stop.

She froze in place.

A moment passed where she seemed to think.

She reached out and put her drink down, then reached with her hands to me.

We both saw me smile in the reflection.

“You are such a beautiful woman.”

“I wish that was true.”

“Of course it’s true.”

I put my hands to the satin belt of her robe and I waited letting her see what I was doing.

My hands drew a line over the belt out in each direction and back again, as her hands followed atop mine.

Her hands lightly gripped me, as if to discourage me.

I then raised my hands, and I smoothed at the satin robe, as I brought my hands higher up her Joshī Brāhmañ young torso.

We watched the material of her robe crease as the hands went up.

“I should go to bed.” She said it like she was commenting about someone else.

Her hands stayed at my arms as my hands reached to trace at the satin of the robe high on her chest.

I pressed at her robe, and she felt the lines I made over her breasts underneath, before going on to circle her chest with motions that went around the points of her robe where her nipples tented it.

My fingers rubbed the satin against her so that her nipples felt the satin press them and then release.

Impossibly, I was making them harder and more pointed with my caresses there.

She drew a sharp breath at my motions, and I lowered my face and spoke softly into her ear.

“Do you want to go to bed? Is that what you want?”

She raised her arms to put her hands in my hair up and behind her.

With this I dipped my head and started kissing her neck and over onto her shoulder.

She sighed and whispered.

I continued to kiss and lick her shoulders.

She clenched her eyes and opened them to see my hands pull the part of her robe where it crossed at her chest.

I just tugged it apart.

The robes’ sides backed away from each other, and the bare skin of her chest displayed in full view of the both of us.

Her breasts hung openly and fully, bottomed with the protruding pointed nipples I had teased when they were covered.

My hands came to them and held them, lifting just slightly.

Her entire body swooned a little at what I had done to her, as she acted unsteady.

Looking at her, I said more in her ear.

“You don’t want to go to bed, do you?”

There was a muffled sound from her.

I straightened my stance, and her head rested more back against my chest but still gazed forward at our reflection.

My hands moved again.

One swipe at the belt finished unleashing it, and my hands pressed at the open hips that appeared.

She sucked a deep breath at seeing her Joshī Brāhmañ mound uncovered as I had done, but then she grunted the breath right back out at what I did next.

My left hand stayed pressed to her hip, and my right hand crossed her skin at her waist.

I draped my hand to where it traveled from her waist to her Joshī Brāhmañ crotch and I unhesitatingly gripped her Joshī Brāhmañ sex in my Bachhalyā male palm.

We both felt her slick crease take in my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund easily.

“AHHHHHHHH!” She exclaimed at my entry.

As if reflexively, she brought her hips backwards.

This moved her crotch as if to leave my Bachhalyā Lund, but it also drove her bottom at my hard bulge.

I pushed back at her and held.

“Oh, Durgesh!” She yelped at me.

I couldn’t believe how wet and hot she felt to my touch.

When she bent forward and moved herself against my Bachhalyā hardness, I felt myself strain onto her Joshī Brāhmañ bottom pushed to me.

Overcome with her reaction, I brought my left arm under around her waist.

I maneuvered her around and away from the counter.

I had her wrapped in my arm and my hand holding her, as I physically brought her across the room to the kitchen table.

I forced her to the table, her back still to me, and pinned her there.

In one swift push, I had her bent over the table.

Her hands went out by her sides and braced herself.

She didn’t pull back up or slide in either direction away.

I saw no resistance from her at all.

I hovered over where I was rendering her bent over the table.

She slumped in a sprawl right in front of me.

We both heard her take a sharp gasp, when I flipped her robe up over her back from behind.

The next sound was a soft cry from her.

The gym shorts easily lowered to release my full erection.

I slid a foot of hers sideways, leaving her legs spread wide and further flattening her onto the table.

Arundhatī Joshī grunted, “Durgesh“, but I didn’t yield or slow in the least.

My left hand left her back where I had first thought I might have to hold her, and it went between her legs.

She reeled from my left hand reaching to her crotch and manipulating her there, fingers prying at her and opening her.

She felt lightheaded from the surprising physicality of it all, and she twitched anxiously under me.

With her lips worked open, a thick plunge pushed her forward and her upper body traveled up the surface of the table.

Desperately, she gripped to brace herself, as her body lifted impaled and defenseless.

Waves of tingling charges and profound pleasure washed over her, as she felt her helplessness at my Bachhalyā thrusts.

Her mouth fell open but silent, and her head tilted up and forward.

I thrust my hips and felt her warm Joshī Brāhmañ walls close and grip me.

I watched as her Joshī Brāhmañ ass bucked upward and took added pleasure that I was jerking her up and forward as I was.

I was working at her and pushing. Vigorously.

“UUNNNGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!” The moaning came from her throat as I pumped at her.

I held her by the hips and the slapping of Bachhalyā male flesh against Joshī Brāhmañ female flesh filled the room.

Arundhatī Joshī couldn’t believe how hard and thick I felt pistoning in and out of her, and she writhed uncontrollably.

I felt as hard and excited as I could ever remember being, with her lying out below me and my having my way deep inside her.

Her body jerked about with each pump from me.

My balls felt heavy right away and I wondered how long I could last.

Arundhatī Joshī shook her head back and forth and relished the fullness of me there.

She had never been taken as thoroughly as this.

Lightness and more spasms shot through her as she struggled to contain herself from screaming loudly.

She was bucking more and more as yet another orgasm rocked her.

As she shook violently, I was set off into my own.

Seeing her body shake as it did pushed me over the edge, and I grunted and shot into her.

I pushed and made a grinding effort at her as though I was seeking some finish even deeper within her.

With my hips forward and my back hunched I slowed to a stop.

Arundhatī Joshī still had her hips elevated and was impaled on me as she tried to catch her breath and her emotions.

Her chest was mashed to the table top and her palms were flat on it.

She let her head softly ease to rest on the table’s surface as well.

She at once thought of how she must have looked at me.

Her legs were spread lewdly.

She even felt her cheeks at her bottom open given the width of her legs being apart.

Her entire upper torso and arms were still pushed forward and the robe dangled about in disarray.

She had to have looked ravished.

Nevertheless, when she thought of how I even still felt to her, lodged within, and how exquisitely taken every part of her felt, she couldn’t suppress a big smile.

I had wildly fucked her.

Being a Brahm Padminī, Arundhatī Joshī had never even imagined it could be done to her too and yet Arundhatī Joshī could survive the ever wild Bachhalyā male attacks.

Durgesh was always right.

He, perhaps only he, knew perfectly how to fuck a Brahm Padminī optimum keeping her survive even then.

It was an art.

And Durgesh was the only master of this art.

That’s why Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act.

Chapter 31

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