Still, nothing could replace the loving husband she had lost.
Her morose thoughts were interrupted by the sudden din of music…. coming from her father’s room….. next to the bathroom. She had not heard her father comeing home. He must have returned from his afternoon security job at the ‘Ashram’ while she was masturbating, she concluded. She felt somewhat embarrassed at the thought of him perhaps hearing her soft cries of pleasure through the thin adjoining wall earlier.
The corners of her dark tanned lips curled up and her clit jumped once more…. her cunt-juice began to flow as she remembered her father’s often checking and caressing her thin Saree-Clad curvaceous body. She felt bold and shameless, guessing her widower father hearing her moan as she buried her fingers in her tight, juicy cunt.
She resisted the urge to touch herself. Instead as she reached for the ‘Gamcha’….. hanging from a Hook. She wrapped it tight around her damp body. The cotton cloth felt good rubbing over her sensitive nipples and soft skin. The sensations made her clit throb even more and her cunt become wetter. She opened the bathroom’s door and went towards her father’s room. His door was open.
“Baba, I’ve invited Suchitra Memsaheb tomorrow afternoon for a snack….. so please come back home as early as possible, please?” She called out.
Kenaram looked up from his mobile with a puzzled look. He turned his mobile’s music player off and asked, “What?”
“Suchitra Memsaheb… I think it would be better if she visits us and checks our low-standard life-style,” Kamini said.
“Exactly…..” Kenaram replied enthusiastically. “I’ve already intimated her about our poor financial status….but it’s a good decision?”
“I’ve talked to her few times and see her during our video-calling, but I wish to meet my new mother once before your marriage.” Kamini smiled.
“But what about yourself?” Kenaram looked anxiously. “I think you should marry first.”
With that, he got up from his bed. He walked past his daughter on his way to the bathroom. She was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed at her chest. Her father had only pushed the bathroom door ajar and she could hear the steady stream of his urine…. hitting the concrete floor.
She imagined herself standing beside her father, holding his cock in her hand while he would urinate. She wondered if he was as thick as her husband was. He had black hair, brown eyes and a muscular frame that reached nearly six feet, so it was likely that he was hung like him as well.
She squeezed her left tit through the ‘Gamcha’, rubbing the soft material over her engorged nipple as she thought about her father’s shaft in her aching cunt rather than her fingers. Above the ‘Gamcha’ she could see a few inches of her deep cleavage and a hint of her firm tits. She tugged the ‘Gamcha’ tighter around her, securing it, but did not pull it higher.
“How were your duty today?” She asked him when he returned from the bathroom.
“Good….. so much religious songs and prayers with so many pure-minded devotees, so it was an easy and charming afternoon.” Looking at her deep cleavage, he replied as he felt a stirring in his groin.