Uncle & Sunita: Unleashed by Deepa

(Note to readers: this story continues the Sunita/Uncle Shom series. It incorporates situations that readers have said they want to see develop between the two. All stories are self contained and can be read on their own. That is the reason I prefer not to serially number them. Those who wish to read the previous episode should look up "Uncle Shom and Sunita find time." The series started with "Uncle Shom is Taken" and is followed by "Uncle Shom spreads her". With this, there are totally four stories in the Sunita/Shom series).

They were headed to Jaipur and Delhi was a logical stopover. Initially, Sunita had been tense about meeting up with Deepa and Deepa's father while her own husband Karan was alongside. However, that resolved itself with Karan's work catching up with him as usual. He decided to arrive in Delhi a day later, just in time for the road trip to Jaipur.

That then only left the sexual tension of encountering Deepa's father, Shom. Sunita was as young (or as old-depending on how you looked at it) as Shom's daughter Deepa. When Sunita had come visiting on the demise of Shom's wife, she had chanced upon her Uncle Shom masturbating energetically. Sunita felt an overwhelming sense of sympathy towards Uncle, now destined for years of loneliness. That sympathy soon gave way to unbridled lust as the younger woman and older man devoured each other.

Sunita was also apprehensive of having to talk about this relationship with Deepa even though the sexual encounters between father and friend were no secret.

Illicit at its worst and caring at its best, the sexual trysts did not escape Deepa's attention. The age difference between them, the fact that Shom had a daughter Sunita's age, the relationship they had shared in the past; all these made their sexual union completely illicit. But the loneliness and the needs of Shom that Sunita handled through the sex seemed to legitimize the relationship in the eyes of both the girls.

And yet, they never talked about it.

Sunita wondered about that. Was Deepa just being opportunistic because the sexual encounters had helped with her father's depression? Or was she being discreet? Did she now think of Sunita as a whorish slut? Or as a caring person who had crossed a boundary in her lovingness?

In the heart of her hearts Sunita knew that she could just as well have been sympathetic and caring without being sexual. To her own self, she could not deny the strong surge she had felt in her loins when she had spotted Uncle Shom with what was clearly a nice, thick truncheon of a cock. It was a combination of curiosity and lust. Curiosity because he compared favorably with her own husband Karan. The lust was ignited by her awareness that Uncle Shom had the stamina and urges of primal man. Deepa had described her father's vigorous, noisy lovemaking sessions with her mother which continued late into life. Sunita herself had seen how long Uncle had masturbated before cumming. Clearly, there was something here to be sampled which promised to be superior to Karan in every respect. That deadly combination led her to try and satiate the man in her Uncle Shom.

Shorn of the societal labels and taboos, he was a lusty man and she was a wanton woman. The inflammatory chemistry that the two enjoyed merely confirmed what she instinctively knew.

Those memories made her feel warm and horny. She recalled how small her fist seemed when she first tried to hold and tame his throbbing cock. Then later he had plunged upward spearing apart her squelching wet pussy as they battled each other for sexual conquest. He had exploded with massive bolts of cum which flooded her, belying his age. She flushed with heat at the thought of her imminent arrival at Deepa's house.

There was definitely something different in Deepa's welcome this time. It was in her eyes, as the friends looked deep into each other. It was in the hug as Deepa seemed to hold Sunita closer. The way she held Sunita at the arms and held her close, breast upon breast, seemed to suggest a new bond.

They had always been close. When they were in hostel together, when they shared stories of their first nights of sex with their respective husbands; all the usual things that girls discussed. But there was a new closeness now.

Deepa had spotted Sunita and her dad going at each other. Her eyes had met with Sunita's as she chanced upon them. Sunita had been riding Uncle Shom's cock to submission when Deepa had walked in; Shom had his back to his daughter and Sunita had locked eyes with Deepa over his shoulder. Deepa was grateful in her heart for Sunita's ability to reach out to the lonely and depressed man.

And yet they never spoke to each other about it. What was Deepa to say? That she was happy her friend had fucked her dad? And Sunita? Could she brazenly tell Deepa that her dad was a sexy and vigorous fuck who outdid her husband by a mile? That was the truth running in each of their minds. And the truth is often best left unsaid.

Deepa's house that day was awash with visitors. Uncles and aunts, cousins and their spouses, friends and others, all came and went through the day. Sunita and Uncle Shom had to be content with polite civil conversation with each other.

"How are you, beta? And the kids? Pity Karan couldn't join us as planned," said Shom to Sunita. In his mind, his focus was on her breasts which he had mauled and sucked and on her narrow waist and flaring hips which made such a comfortable repository for his now throbbing manhood. Oh God, she looked lovely with her hair in a cascade.

"Just fine, Uncle! Aur aap kaise hain (how are you)? Not getting too moody I hope!" she joked, tossing her hair. "If I reach inside your dhoti I am sure I will find the monster ready to lunge from his lair," she thought to herself. She longed to touch and gently outline that wondrous cock as she had fantasized many a night. Today they were so close, yet so far.

Shom waited for the visitors to leave. Dinner was had, a few of the regular oldies who shared a late evening drink with him hung around for the weekly ritual. "Not today!" despaired the old man in his thoughts. But routines are routines for the elderly and they never really let down their drinking and chatting partners. They were not about let Shom down.

Earlier in the day he had been forced to retreat to his room when his cock had become unmanageably bothersome. Sunita and Deepa had been serving lunch and when she leaned over at the far end of the table, he was able to look right down her blouse as the pallo had slipped, and there they were, the mango-like breasts, encased in her bra. When she moved closer to him, her aroma filled his nostrils. After those accidental brushes there was no way but to masturbate. He lasted very little, aroused as he was from a night of anticipation and a further half a day of lecherously eyeing the woman who was his daughter's best friend.

Sunita had taken an early morning flight in on the pretext of finding time to be with Deepa. The real agenda was to create that space in which the chemistry between them got its fair chance. Nothing was planned and Sunita was unsure if she could initiate anything with a man she had once called 'Baba': a term Deepa always used in reference to her dad. But the least she could do was leave openings for possibilities.

All that had come to naught and now it was late at night, really late. Early next morning Karan was going to be in and shortly after that the taxi ride to Jaipur. Sunita sighed as she helped Deepa do the dishes.

"I don't think you should plan to sleep in my room," said Deepa, not taking her eyes of the vessel she was scrubbing.

Sunita froze in the act of wiping a dish. "Why?" she asked, wondering where this conversation was headed. She had always slept in Deepa's room with both friends chatting away into the wee hours, taking the chance of being tired and bleary-eyed on the following day. "Has my fucking Uncle Shom changed something between us? Is the sexual innocence of two women, childhood friends, lying in bed together lost?" she thought to herself.

"Shift your night bag to his room," she said, ignoring the question of why. She was referring to the night change that Sunita had packed separately, allowing her to leave the main travel case untouched and packed for the main trip to Jaipur. "You will anyway be up before Karan lands."

Sunita blushed furiously as she resumed slowly wiping the already clean dish, not willing to acknowledge that she knew exactly who the "his" was.

"He misses you," went on Deepa, "More you than he misses Ma."

Sunita was shocked. How could Uncle Shom not miss Aunty, the woman whose demise had caused him despair; the despair to cure which she had become the old man's lover?

"Well, not that he does not miss her at all," clarified Deepa, almost as if she had read Sunita's mind. "Just that she is no longer a possibility and you of course, are for real."

"You want me to sleep in Uncle Shom's room?" asked Sunita bluntly, pursing her lips.

"Yes," persisted Deepa. The cold question caused doubt in Deepa's mind. Perhaps her friend was no longer comfortable with a continuation of that relationship. Perhaps it was something which happened in the heat of the moment, in the aftermath of her mother's demise.

With a deep sigh Deepa decided to push her friend. She gripped the ledge of kitchen sink and looked down as she spoke. "He masturbates. More often than before," she confided.

"What has that got to do with me?" asked Sunita, stonewalling her friend. In reality, that information conjured up images in her mind of the thick, blunt weapon of a cock which Uncle Shom sported; a cock she wanted so often to worship, both hands running up and down the thickness, twisting and twirling it, with her lips ready to receive any wetness that welled up from him.

Deepa broke Sunita's cock-focused reverie with more shocking, if arousing information. "It is very vigorous, especially when he is thinking of you while masturbating. Look, you know I have been witness to some of his lovemaking with Ma. But after her, his sexual needs are in no way diminished and he seems to be oblivious to my presence around the house. I am forced to be discreet about it, but he is at is ever so often. Mai kya karoon (what am I to do), Sunita?" said Deepa in a choked voice as tears welled up in her eyes.

All this open talk of masturbation embarrassed Sunita further and she felt her cheeks go hot. Yes, they had talked of sex, sexuality and sexual relationships. But masturbation was new ground between these friends. And in relation to her dad? Oh God!

"How do you know he thinks of me while.... while... he does it" managed Sunita. Her throat was dry from the topic of discussion and was matched by the wetness between her legs caused by the images of her Uncle Shom that Deepa painted out for her. She tried to say 'masturbation' but she struggled with the challenge of being brazen and open in front of her friend.

She knew she had masturbated the old man; she had fucked him and allowed him to fuck and suck her. But acknowledging it? That was so very different.

"He calls out to you. I heard him. In fact, on one occasion that is how I came to know he was at it," said Deepa, using her friend's device of replacing the 'm'-word with an 'it'. "He was bellowing out your name over and over again. I thought he was calling me. I rushed to his room and when I was just outside his door, thankfully I heard him clearly say 'Sunita'. I stopped and peered through the gap in the door. There he was, lying on his easy chair, his hand on his....." Deepa hesitated to use the word in reference to her own dad, ".... his penis." Somehow the biological term seemed more respectable.

"With every jerk, he thrust his hips, repeating your name over and over. And he came in copious torrents. I suspect it is messier for him when he fantasizes about you as he masturbates," Deepa reminisced.

"How do you know that? It is impossible. You cannot be right," countered Sunita, while knowing it to be true and perhaps the real evidence of all that Deepa had said was the flow between her legs right now.

"You forget I wash his clothes. I see the damp spots, the large wet areas and depending on how soon after I am washing clothes I can see gobs and gobs of his cum," said Deepa. She turned towards her friend. "He needs you, don't say no!" she pleaded.

Sunita's mind was in a whirl. She just wanted to blindly accept Deepa's offer. It was better than her plan of sneaking out of Deepa's room into his room after she had fallen asleep. On the face of it, Deepa was requesting Sunita. In reality, to Sunita it was an offer. Sleep in the same room, be his woman, and take him as her own man for one full night. Knowing him, she was sure it would be more than just one fuck in a night. She wanted to say "Yes", but she did not know how to do it without seeming like a sluttish whore. "Damn!" cursed Sunita, inwardly, "Damn society! Damn taboos! Damn everything!"

"Ok," said Deepa with a sigh of resignation as she mistook Sunita's silence for denial.

"Wait!" blurted out Sunita in panic. She didn't want to lose this chance. She knew Uncle Shom was a stallion. She thirsted to fuck him, not once but twice. Or as many times as he could take her in one night. She wanted him to take her and her to take him in as many different ways as their imagination allowed. And that is what was on offer: a night of wanton, unrestrained loving and lust between Sunita Beti and Uncle Shom.

She hugged Deepa and hid her face in the crook of her friend's shoulder as she confessed, "Yes, I will sleep with him, in his room. I know he needs that comfort of a woman and why should that woman not be me?"

"Thank you! I knew you would for me," replied Deepa.

With the damn inside her having burst, Sunita revealed her true feelings. "It is not that I am doing you or him a favor, Deepa. I want him just as much. I love making love to him, holding him when he cums and comforting him. Yes," sighed Sunita. She caressed Deepa's cheek with her own, her hands roaming over her friend's back and shoulder, conveying more than just affection.

Deepa pushed Sunita back so she could see her face. She looked deep into her friend's eyes and said "No, I really mean it. Thank you!" She then proceeded to hug her to her bosom, breast caressing breast, cheek caressing cheek and hands roaming over her the body her father was sure to claim soon enough.

A short while later Sunita made her way up the stairs, carrying for Uncle Shom his nightly glass of warm milk. The oddity was not lost on Sunita. A glass of warm milk was indeed what an Indian bride carried to the nuptial chamber on a wedding night.

Sunita's hands trembled. She was not nervous; it was tremors of lust that preceded the eruption of a volcano. When she entered the room she found Uncle Shom lying on the bed on his right side, facing away from the door. His left hand was moving, on the front of his body. Instantly, Sunita knew what he was doing. This was the kind of moment Deepa probably encountered around the house every day; her father masturbating. Sunita cleared her throat.

Shom looked over his shoulder and ceased activity. He saw that it was Sunita rather than Deepa. He did not sit up for his dhoti was askew and he was sporting a massive erection. He did not remove his hand either for that would have merely attracted attention. He wanted to do all that in stages so that nothing appeared amiss.

"Beti," he said, trying to sound matter of fact and appear normal. Sunita knew that in this same situation Deepa would not have entered the room and would have simply let the man continue unhindered. She also took note that on those various occasions Deepa did not go away and rather preferred to indulge the voyeur in her by watching her father complete his self-gratification.

Sunita sat on the bed, behind her Uncle Shom. Gently she reached for his left arm and tugged at it, pulling his hand away from his cock. The cock sprang back to its normal position and Shom sighed from the relief of the tugging and the release that followed.

"Aaj aapko iss ki zarurat nahi hai," she whispered, "I am here, na!" (Today you have no need to do this, I am here, no!)

"Beti!" he whispered in an agonized voice and rolled over to bury his head in her lap without looking her in the eye. His head burrowed, finding solace in the womanly warmth, but also wishing to go deeper, directly to her crotch. Sunita remembered with relief that she had trimmed her pussy hair. The untended bushy growth and wisps of hair were gone and now there was a neat, furry turf. Perhaps it was slightly prickly for she had not been able to do the trimming till just the night before. If she had done it two days ago, the patch would have been short yet soft, so she might not have hurt her Uncle Shom with the roughness of her hair.

His strong, powerful hands - hands that she loved for their ability to command her body- pulled her to his face as he swung her body. His face turned upward as her body turned downward and she was now kneeling over his head.

"Oh uncle!" she sighed as her body shook and shuddered.

Deepa who was following her friend heard the lust laden sigh just as she was about to enter the room and stopped right there, behind the curtain at the door.

Sunita laughed as his lips searched through layers of clothes and he bit and gnawed at her, not knowing what part of her anatomy he was actually getting at or how far he was actually successful at it.

She shimmied down so she was now sitting on his chest. She held his head in her hands, gripping his ears and looked at him with glimmering eyes. "Ey! Itna intazar karna pada ki ab jaldi hai?" she teased him. (Hey! Did you have to wait so much that now you are in a hurry?)

The reverence and respect accorded to her friend's father had given way to the casualness and familiarity that sex demanded and words like "Ey!" (Hey) quickly replaced words like "Ji!" (A suffix that indicates respect). Shom noted the change in language. It made him feel younger, and more intimate with her than the sham of respectability that he had been forced to stick through all day.

Deepa felt her ears go red. No doubt, it was she who had prevailed on Sunita to spend the night with her dad. However, she had sent up Sunita ahead only because clearing up took a little bit longer. She had intended for all three of them to spend a bit of time in her dad's room before Deepa herself discreetly withdrew, leaving the lovers together. How else could she have setup Sunita and her dad in the same room? Yet, these two seemed so brazen in their lust for one another. Deepa stood rooted to the spot, catching glimpses of whatever she could through the gap in the curtains and listening intently to the sounds.

Sunita shimmied further down his body. As she did so, her saree got pulled up. Her buttocks and her crotch grazed him. Shom felt the warmth of the pussy and wondered whether there were juices to be felt if garments were not obstructing. She leaned forward and kissed him on his lips. She sucked his lips in and pulled her teeth along the lower lip as she extruded it out. Shom shivered.

"Tonight," she said, and paused at that one word and slid further down. Her legs were now spread wide and the saree was further up, baring all of her lower legs and caught now at the middle of her thigh.

She pulled at his kurta to reveal his nipple. Her wet mouth closed around the nipple, wetting it before sucking it in.

"Hnnnnnh!" grunted Uncle Shom, his hand on her head. On so many occasions he had touched her head in like fashion but that was to bless when she touched his feet. Today, there was a slight pressure from him to keep her there and it was matched by his thrusting his chest forward to feed her whatever it was she wanted from sucking so hard.