A Mother’s Practical Guide to Wifely Pleasures

A Mother’s Practical Guide to Wifely Pleasures
Hello readers, I am Nandini – 5”3, a pretty girl in her early 20s with a sexy body and an innocent soul. With a typical Indian brown girl figure and a 32D-30-34 sized assets, I am constantly a prey to the eyes of many vultures out there. But I prefer to wear Indian wear as it enhances my beauty. So, coming to the story, like typical Indian families, my marriage had been fixed with Nikhil, a sweet and loving guy for whom I fell in our first meeting. I know many Gen-Z girls and ladies will contradict me, but I am a girl who supports the fact that my virginity is reserved for my husband. A month before my marriage, one fine evening, I was sitting in my bedroom, and the electricity went off. I was gazing at the stars from my window. My mother, Kamini, knocked on the door and brought an oil lamp and a fruit bowl with her. I was amazed and inquired about what it was for. She placed her finger on my lips, “Shhh,” and signaled me to sit on the bed. In my subconscious mind, for the first time, I was checking my pious mother out. I felt the urge to grab her perfect titties, caress her round ass, taste her tender lips, and play with her loose hairs as she looked like Vidhya Balan straight coming out of a movie. I controlled my mind as it gave a sensation of guilty pleasure. I quickly started to look elsewhere to divert my corrupt mind. She kept the bowl of sweet mangoes and bananas on the bedroom table, and its fragrance filled the room. Kamini, my mom, sat next to me on the bed’s edge. Her fingers slowly started drawing patterns on my naked wrist, assuring me. She said in a whisper, “I believe that you have become a beautiful woman now, Nandu,” in a voice full of love and attraction. “And soon, you will be a bride, the woman who is an ardhangani to his man. But before that night comes, you must learn the art of love—not just as wifey duty, but as pleasure, as worship.” My breath quickened. I listened, blushing, not able to keep eye contact with her. I had butterflies in my stomach. I don’t know how, but my body started relaxing with her touch, wanting more and more. As it was a summer night, I was in a Cool Cotton Spaghetti and matching shorts without a bra. My titties started to get hard, and my tender nipples poked, itching to be touched and squeezed. I had nurtured a belief about sex from the married women in the family, seen the hidden romances between newlywed couples, but no one had ever spoken to me or taught me so openly. My mother smiled, sensing my nervousness. “There is no shame in this, Nandu. You are lucky to be born as a girl. Nikhil will adore your body, and satisfaction and pleasure is a gift that should be shared.” She picked a ripe and fragrant mango from the fruit bowl, peeling it with her finger. “Nikhil’s desire will be like this fruit,” she said, peeling it slowly in her hands. “Firm, yet tender. And when handled with care…” She peeled the mango completely by scratching her nails gently into the mango skin, revealing the juicy fruit. A drop of mango juice raced down her wrist. I watched the drop flow through her milky wrist, and my mouth drooled. She continued, “…it rewards you with its sweetness and gives you the pleasure you live for.” My mother brought the mango to my lips. “Taste.” I parted my lips, letting my mother feed me the ripe fruit. The sweet and juicy flavor burst on my tongue—luscious, honeyed, almost sinful. I moaned softly, “Hmmm..” rolling my tongue as its juice dripped down my chin all the way through my cleavage. I didn’t bother cleaning it as I was completely mesmerized by my mom’s words. Mom’s eyes darkened with approval. “That sound, Nandu—that is what Nikhil will wish to hear when he pleasures you. Not silence. Not restraint. This.” She caught the stray droplet on my lower lip with her thumb, then slowly dragged it down my throat all the way till where my Spaghetti starts, leaving a glistening trail. I shuddered, my skin flushing. I could feel some tension building as my pussy had started to get wet in my panties down there. “Now, let me show you how to touch him,” Mom whispered. She picked a big ripe banana from the fruit bowl, holding it in her right hand, and said, “Nikhil’s body may be strong, but his need makes him vulnerable.” Her fingers wrapped around it, stroking slowly from base to tip. “When you grab Nikhil’s (pointing to the banana) in your hand, be gentle at first… then firmer, and slowly play with your hands and mouth, keeping direct eye contact as he craves more.” My mouth opened wide as I watched her fingers work—long, slow, and teasing strokes, her thumb circling over the tip in a way that made me lick my saliva. She looked like a pro in that. “Use your tongue and lick it like your favorite ice cream,” Mom instructed, and brought the banana to her lips. She checked its length with her tongue slowly. Mom’s eyes were seductively locked with mine, licking and sucking the banana like a lollipop. She then playfully bit it between her teeth, biting down just enough to mark it and not break it. I don’t know how and when my hands reached my pussy over my shorts with my mouth wide open. “Men love to be tasted,” Mom murmured seductively, pulling away. “But remember, Nandu—always control the pace. Make him beg for more.” She picked another ripe banana, handing it to me, and said, “Nandu, stroke it gently first with your hands.” I followed her instructions. She continued, “Spit some saliva on it and circle its tip firmly. Slowly open your mouth and touch the tip of your tongue. Lick it gently and suck it, thinking you are enjoying your favorite chocolate ice cream. Remember, don’t let your teeth touch it.” She ordered with authority, “Nandu, now slowly take it deep down your throat. Nikhil will love it when you suck him deep.” The banana hit the back of my throat, and I gagged.

Mom took the banana in her hand and slowly started pounding it back and forth. I started breathing heavily. She ordered me to remove my shorts and spaghetti, which I duly obliged because of the fire in my pussy. She threw my saliva-filled banana in the dustbin. Mom now brought a small clay pot of honey. She dipped her two fingers into it, “And when Nikhil is inside you,” she said, whispering in my ear, “you must float like this.” Mom drew a sticky-sweet path of honey down from my inner thighs to my panties with her slippery fingers. I gasped as my mother’s touch inched higher, stopping just before reaching the linings of my panties. An inch above, and my mother could have felt the wetness. “Tease Nikhil,” Mom seductively breathed. “Let Nikhil feel how much you want him, but do make him work for it.” My heartbeat increased when I heard Nikhil’s name now and then. I had never imagined such things—never dreamt that pleasure could be taught like this. Mom leaned in, her lips brushing my ear, “When the night comes, Nandu, you will not be afraid. You will be a flame, and he will burn for you.” The mango and banana’s mixed sweetness still could be tasted on my lips as Mom set the fruit bowl aside. Mom was looking steady and reassuring. “There is still one last thing you must learn, Nandu,” Mom murmured. “Before you can truly, please, Nikhil, you must first understand your own body. A woman who knows her pleasure can guide her husband to it.” My breath hitched. I had touched myself before and masturbated – after seeing some romantic and sexy movie scenes and reading some romantic novels under the cover of night—but I had never dared to speak of it, never imagined my mother would ever speak about it to me. Mom picked a small bottle of rose oil and poured a few drops onto her fingertips. “Lie back, Nandu,” Mom instructed gently. I obeyed, and my heart was beating rapidly. I slowly adjusted the pillows. My sweaty body was shining in the oil lamp’s glow. The silence between Mom and me in the room for a few seconds felt long. Mom’s fingers caressed down my stomach, slow and deliberate. She stopped just above the waistband of my pants. “This is yours, Nandu, for being a patient student,” she whispered. “Your body, your pleasure. Don’t be ashamed of it because I am here.” Her next move stopped my heartbeat for a second. My mom’s hand slipped inside the soft and smooth fabric of my blue floral panties. I closed my eyes. My hands reached for her hand, cupping it and guiding her fingertips to brush the corners of my pussy, feeling its wetness. I moaned, “Aaahhh Mummy”. “Shhh,” Mom kissed my forehead. “This is natural. This is beautiful.” Her fingers slowly pinched and squeezed my pussy linings. The very next moment, she slid her middle finger in, and I grunted, “Right there, Mummy”. I started moving my hips, trying to feel my mom’s finger as deeply as possible. Feel it,” Mom whispered sensually. She now started rubbing my clitoris and increased her pace. “This is where your pleasure lives. Touch yourself here, Nandu, and learn what makes you moan and pleases you the most.” My hips were moving with the flow. Mom’s touch on my pussy was unlike anything I had ever given to myself, hitting the right spots at the right pace. “Slow at first,” Mom murmured, watching my face. “Tease yourself, just as you would tease Nikhil. Let the pleasure build.” Mom now attacked my breasts with her other hand. She poured a few drops of rose oil on my breasts and circled and pinched my already vulnerable nipples. I started moaning, my body moving automatically and my fingers twisting in the bedsheets. The heat between my legs was unbearable, and I felt the urge to cum. “And when you can’t take it anymore, Nandu,” Mom continued, “when you feel that urge inside you, release it.” My back arched as the pleasure crested. With a big “Aaahhh…mmm,” I squirted on my mom’s hand in my pants. My thighs were still trembling. My breath was still high as my bare nipples rose up and down. Mom smiled and removed her hand from my pants. Tasting my pussy juices and kissing my damp forehead, she said, “That, Nandu, is what you deserve and what Nikhil will long for. Never forget it.” She winked and stood up, leaving me boneless and breathless on the bed. My body had received newfound knowledge from my mother. “Now rest,” Mom said softly. She stepped toward the door, “And when the time comes, you will know exactly how to make Nikhil and yourself love birds.” The door shut behind me as Mom went with the things she had brought. Soon, the lights were on as electricity was restored. I still lay there on the bed. My skin is still tingling from my Mom’s touches. My juices are still oozing in my panties. I brought my hand inside my panties, closed my eyes, and sniffed and tasted my love juice. My heart was now racing with a sense of satisfaction and pleasure. I was no longer just a girl; my mom made me a woman who knew her power. Hope you liked this story, please comment and show some love.