Desi Sex Stories Hello readers, this incident happened a year ago while I was traveling from Kadapa to Bangalore.
About me: I’m Praju. I’m 6 feet tall, semi-built, and have a slightly dark complexion. I’m originally from Kadapa but have been living in Bangalore for the past 5 years, working at a startup in HSR Layout.
Coming back to the story:
Last year in May, I went to my hometown to meet my family. Due to an urgent matter, I had to return to Bangalore suddenly, so I booked a last-minute seat on a regular seater bus (not a sleeper).
There was only one seat available, located in the second row, so I took it. A man was sitting next to me in seat 2A. Across the aisle, two women were sitting – 2C was a young woman, and 2D was her mother-in-law.
We had completed about 30% of the journey when it started raining heavily. After about 30 minutes, water began leaking and dripping right onto seat 2C. The daughter-in-law complained to the bus conductor, and they shifted her to an empty seat at the back of the bus.
Shortly after, water droplets started falling on my seat too. The aunty noticed this and kindly asked me to sit next to her. I moved over to her side since that spot was completely dry.
About the aunty: Her name was Latha. She was around 5’6″ tall, very curvy, with a wheatish complexion, and looked to be around 51 years old.
I slept for about an hour after changing seats. When I woke up, I unexpectedly had a hard-on. She started making conversation, asking me what I do for a living, where I stay in Kadapa, and why I was heading back to Bangalore.
After a while, my arousal grew even more, and it was visibly throbbing. Since I was wearing shorts, it was hard to hide, though I tried covering it by putting my hands on my thighs. She definitely noticed it, but she didn’t say anything. A few minutes later, I calmed down.
Throughout the ride, her clothing shifted a bit, and I found myself catching glimpses of her cleavage and enjoying the view. Later on, she handed me her phone. It was brand new, and none of her contacts were saved yet. She asked me to check an issue she was having with WhatsApp calls, as she kept getting an “unable to call” pop-up.
I reinstalled the app for her. To test if it was working properly, I asked her who I should call. She said she didn’t know whose numbers she had saved yet, so I decided to call my own number. Once it connected successfully, I deleted my contact info and the call log from her phone.
The rest of the journey went smoothly. The bus stopped for a washroom break, and I went to use the restroom. After we got back on the road, her daughter-in-law returned to her original seat because we were almost in Bangalore.
I couldn’t stop looking at the aunty, glancing over every 5 minutes (maybe because I missed sitting next to her). Occasionally, she caught me looking and smiled.
As it turned out, we were getting down at the same stop because she lived in the area right next to mine. When the bus arrived, we stood up to get off. I was standing directly behind her when the driver suddenly slammed on the brakes. The momentum pushed me forward a step, and my groin pressed right against her lower back.
The physical contact made me instantly hard again. She clearly felt it but chose not to move away. By this time, she was noticeably sweating, and I was too dazed and overwhelmed by the feeling to move. We stood there pressed against each other for about 4 to 5 minutes until the doors opened. Once we got down, she didn’t look back at me and quickly walked away with her daughter-in-law.
After a week, I couldn’t control my urges anymore. One night, I was drunk as fuck, and though I was shit-scared to call her, I finally gained the confidence and dialed her number (which I had saved from my WhatsApp call log). She picked up.
Aunty: “Hello, who is this?”
Me: “It’s me, Praju. We met on the bus journey from Kadapa to Bangalore last week.”
Aunty: “Ha, yes. How are you?”
Me: “I’m doing good. How are you?”
Aunty: “What made you call me?”
Me: “Are you traveling to Kadapa anytime soon? Because I need a few things from there, as I cannot travel.”
Aunty: “No, babu… no plans.”
I continued the conversation from there, and we ended up talking for around 20 minutes before she had to hang up because someone came over to her house. That night, I shagged twice and went to sleep.
She called me back 2 days later, and we talked casually. This routine continued for the next 3 months. During these regular calls, I told her everything about myself, and I grew to know everything about her and her entire family.
After 3 months of talking, she casually asked me a question while we were on a call:
Aunty: “Where do you usually meet your girlfriend for a long time?”
I immediately understood what she was hinting at.
Me: “I book a room, and we spend time there.”
Aunty: “What do you do in the room for so long?”
Me: “Same thing what couples do.”
Aunty: “Okay, I’ll call you later.”
She cut the call right after that.
After another week of casual talking, she invited me over to her place for lunch.
Aunty: “Come home this Tuesday. I’ll make biryani.”
Me: “Okay, aunty. I’ll come.”
On Tuesday, I went to her house, which was a flat in an apartment complex. When I rang the bell, she opened the door and told me to come inside. I walked in. She was wearing a simple, normal green saree.
Aunty: “Go wash your hands. We will eat. I’m hungry.”
Me: “Okay, aunty.”
We ate together and then went over to sit on the sofa, talking casually. From the moment I had entered her house, I couldn’t stop checking out her curves. I was hard as fuck, but it wasn’t visible at first because I was wearing jeans.
However, once we sat down on the sofa, my bulge became clearly noticeable. I didn’t really care because we had become super close as friends by then, and I knew she wouldn’t make a scene about it.
Aunty: “What else?”
Me: “Nothing, aunty. I missed our talk on the bus.”
She just smiled.
We didn’t say anything for a few minutes, and the silence became very awkward. I was rock hard by now. Noticing a small cut mark on her hand, I reached out and held it.
Me: “Aunty, what happened?”
Aunty: “It happened during veggie cutting.”
Me: “Oh, okay.”
I didn’t let go of her hand. I kept holding it for a while as we continued to talk, and she didn’t try to pull away either. Though I was shit-scared to make a further move, I casually leaned over and rested my head on her shoulder while still holding her hand. I could smell the scent of her sweat, and I was completely, intensely aroused.
To be continued.
Author of this story wrote it for you for free. The least you can do is to let him know your feedback in the comments below.