Madhavi was sitting in the corner of her small house, packing heaps of pickle and papad packets on the table. She was around 35, fair-skinned, with a curvy body that filled out her tight blue saree perfectly. Her blouse hugged her heavy boobs, and her deep navel peeked out, teasing anyone who glanced her way. Life wasn’t easy for her. Her husband, Bhinde, a school teacher, was always busy with tuitions, but his earnings barely covered the household. Madhavi’s little pickle business kept them afloat, but it never left enough for her small desires.
She picked up the newspaper lying on the table and spotted an ad for a big saree sale. Her eyes lit up, imagining herself in a stunning new saree, making the society women jealous. But her face fell just as quickly. “If only I had 8-10 thousand rupees,” she muttered to herself. “I’d buy a couple of sarees and show off. But Bhinde’s such a stingy bastard, never cares about what I want. And my pickle money? That’s just enough to scrape by.” She sighed, her heart heavy, and went back to her work.
Just then, a loud knock echoed through the house. Madhavi adjusted her saree’s pallu and walked to the door. Standing outside was Champak Lal, Jethalal’s father. Champak was in his early 60s but still had a youthful spark. His clean dhoti and kurta couldn’t hide the sly grin on his face. He’d seen Bhinde heading out earlier and Sonu catching the school bus. With the house empty, he thought, “Why not pay Madhavi a visit?” And here he was.
Madhavi opened the door and gave a small smile. “Arre, Champak Chacha, you? Come in!” Her voice was sweet, but Champak’s eyes were glued to her juicy figure. The way her saree clung to her curves made him weak. He followed her inside like a hungry dog, settling on the sofa.
“Madhavi beti, is Bhinde home?” he asked, knowing damn well Bhinde was out.
“No, Chacha ji, he’s gone out. Why, any work?” Madhavi replied, adjusting her pallu again.
“Just some small thing. I’ll catch him later. What about you? What’s keeping you busy?” Champak’s tone was casual, but his hand brushed her fair arm lightly.
Madhavi pulled her arm back and said, “Nothing much, just packing pickles.”
Champak leaned closer. “So, how much do you make selling those pickles?”
“Not much, Chacha ji. Just enough to get by,” she said, her voice tinged with sadness.
“Times are tough, beti. Everyone’s struggling,” Champak said, faking sympathy. Then he grinned. “How about some tea for your old Chacha?”
Madhavi chuckled. “Sure, Chacha ji. Sit tight, I’ll get it.” She swayed to the kitchen, her hips swinging in a way that made Champak’s mind wander. He sat there, lost in dirty thoughts about her.
A few minutes later, Madhavi returned with a cup of tea. As she bent to hand it over, her pallu slipped, giving Champak a clear view of her deep cleavage. His eyes locked onto her fair, heavy boobs. Madhavi caught his stare, quickly covered herself, and sat on the opposite sofa. Champak sipped his tea, still eyeing her curves like a predator.
“You look tense, Madhavi beti. Something bothering you?” he asked, his voice dripping with fake concern.
“No, Chacha ji, it’s nothing,” she said, but her tone betrayed her unease. His staring was getting to her.
“Come on, tell me. Maybe Chacha can help,” he pressed, leaning forward.
Madhavi hesitated. His gaze was unsettling, but the thought of that saree sale pushed her to speak. “Chacha ji, can you lend me some money? Like 8 thousand?”
“For what, beti?” Champak asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Just… some work. I’ll pay you back,” she said, avoiding his eyes.
Champak smirked. “No need to pay back, Madhavi. I’ve got plenty of cash.”
“No, Chacha ji, I can’t take it for free,” she insisted.
His voice turned low and husky. “Well, I’m feeling a bit lonely these days, Madhavi.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, her brows furrowing.
“If you spend one night with me, I’ll give you 8—no, 10 thousand,” Champak said bluntly.
Madhavi’s face flushed with anger and shock. “What are you saying, Chacha ji?” she snapped.
“That’s the deal, beti. You want the money, you know what to do,” he said, unfazed.
Madhavi’s mind raced. The saree was her dream, but this? Bhinde never cared for her wishes, and money was always tight. After a long pause, she nodded slightly. “Fine. But not here. In the bathroom. Someone might see.”
Champak’s eyes gleamed. “Wherever you want, Madhavi.” He followed her to the bathroom like a man possessed.
The Fuck Session Begins
Madhavi opened the bathroom door and let Champak in. She locked it behind them and leaned against the door, her heart pounding. Champak didn’t waste a second. His hands went straight for her heavy boobs, squeezing them through her blouse. “Fuck, these are so juicy,” he groaned. Madhavi shut her eyes, letting him do it, her breath quickening.
Champak’s cock was already rock-hard, straining against his dhoti. He pulled her close, pressing his bulge against her thighs, sometimes brushing her pussy through the saree. “You’re so fucking hot, Madhavi,” he whispered, his hands roaming. He tugged at her saree, pulling it off slowly, revealing her fair skin inch by inch. Her blouse came next, buttons popping open to free her big, round boobs, barely contained in a lacy bra. He yanked down her petticoat, and to his delight, she wasn’t wearing panties. Her bare pussy, with a light patch of hair, was right there for him.
“Sit down,” Champak ordered, his voice rough. “Suck my cock.”
Madhavi hesitated. “Chacha ji, I’ve never done that. Bhinde just… does it quick.”
Champak laughed. “That idiot Bhinde doesn’t know how to fuck a hot piece like you. Just open your mouth and put it on my tip. I’ll handle the rest.”
Madhavi knelt, her hands trembling, and opened her mouth. She placed her lips on his thick, dark cockhead. Champak groaned, grabbing her hair, and shoved his 7-inch cock deep into her mouth. “Ohhh, fuck!” Madhavi gagged, coughing, but soon got the hang of it. Her tongue swirled around his tip, sucking hard, making wet, sloppy sounds. “Yeah, suck it, you slut,” Champak moaned, his hips moving slowly.
For a good five minutes, Madhavi worked his cock, her lips stretched around it, saliva dripping down her chin. Champak’s moans filled the bathroom. “Fuck, you’re good at this.” His cock was throbbing now, harder than ever.
He pulled her up and made her bend over, her hands on the wall. Grabbing a bottle of oil from the shelf, he poured it over his cock, rubbing it until it glistened. Then he spread her ass cheeks, dripping oil over her pussy and rubbing it in. His fingers slipped into her wet slit, making her gasp. “Ohhh… Chacha ji, what are you doing?” she whispered, her voice shaky.
“Shut up and take it,” he growled, positioning his cock at her pussy. He eased the tip in, and Madhavi let out a loud moan, “Aahhh!” Her pussy was tight, but the oil made it slick. Champak pushed deeper, his thick cock stretching her. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunted, starting to thrust.
Madhavi’s moans grew louder with each thrust. “Aahhh… Chacha ji, slow down! Bhinde’s cock is so small… yours is too big… it hurts!” she cried, her body shaking.
“Quiet, you whore,” Champak snapped, gripping her hips. “You want the cash, you take my cock.” The bathroom echoed with the wet slap-slap of his thrusts. Madhavi’s pussy was dripping now, a mix of oil and her own juices. “Aahhh… ohhh… slow down, please… my pussy’s gonna tear!” she begged, her voice a mix of pain and pleasure.
“Fuck your pussy, Madhavi. It’s fucking heaven,” Champak groaned, pounding harder. He spanked her ass, making it jiggle. “Look at this fat ass,” he said, smacking it again. Madhavi’s moans turned into screams. “Aahhh… uhhh… Chacha ji, you’re killing me!” Her body rocked with every thrust, her big boobs bouncing under her bra.
Champak flipped her around, pushing her against the wall. He lifted one of her legs, exposing her pussy, and shoved his cock back in. “Ohhh… fuck, you’re so deep!” Madhavi cried, her nails digging into his shoulders. The fap-fap sound of his cock slamming into her wet pussy mixed with her moans. “Aahhh… uhhh… my pussy can’t take it!” she gasped, but her body was betraying her, her hips moving to meet his thrusts.
For nearly 20 minutes, Champak fucked her in every way he could. He bent her over the sink, then made her sit on the floor, pounding her relentlessly. Madhavi’s body was soaked in sweat, her saree and blouse crumpled on the floor. Her pussy was sore, but the pleasure was undeniable. “Aahhh… Chacha ji, you’re too much!” she moaned, her voice hoarse.
When Champak felt his balls tighten, he pulled out. “Open your mouth, slut,” he ordered. Madhavi, still catching her breath, knelt again, her hand rubbing her sore pussy. She took his cock in her mouth, sucking hard. “Ohhh… fuck, yeah!” Champak groaned as his hot cum shot into her mouth. Madhavi swallowed every drop, then licked his cock clean, her tongue running over every inch.
They both got dressed, Madhavi’s saree now damp with sweat and oil. Her face was flushed, a mix of shame and exhaustion. Champak adjusted his dhoti and said, “Meet me outside my house this evening. You’ll get your money.”
Madhavi nodded weakly. “Okay, Chacha ji.” Champak walked out with a smug grin, leaving her on the sofa, catching her breath. Her mind was a mess—partly relieved about the money, partly aching from the rough fuck.
Will Madhavi meet Champak again? What do you think? Drop your comments below!