Salwar Kameez to Bikini
Hello all, my name is Priti. I am a 55-year-old woman from Mumbai, India. I am a divorcee and stay alone. My only son Viresh moved to The US for his studies two years ago. He was then placed in Cuba and worked for a tech company. This story is about how I found the love of my life and regained my sexual life at age 55. Let me describe myself. I am 5.2 ft tall and a little busty with the 36dd-34-40 figure. I have flaps on my tummy, but my legs are nice and toned to my apple-shaped ass. I was an ordinary Indian housewife without appreciation, but I kept myself healthy and did yoga daily. One day Viresh’s boss had to come to Mumbai for two weeks for a project. Viresh informed me that he would stay at our place. I obliged. His boss, Rizwan, was originally from Israel and settled in Cuba. He was 5″ 8 tall, Fair, and well-built. He was 61, but it looked like he was in his 50’s. Ours was a small one-bedroom house, but he relaxed me and told me not to worry about it. Rizwan was a gentleman and behaved well. He was cheerful, sweet, humble humorous, and respectful. By the end of the week of his arrival, we were very comfortable with each other. He would come home from work, and we would have tea together and continue our long talks. He helped me with groceries and went for walks with me after work. We started spending more time together. It was hot at home. He would wear his track pants and T-shirt, and I would be in a kurta and leggings. On the weekend he asked me to show him around the city. I obliged. I was wearing my kurta and fitting leggings. The kurta had a cut from a little up and showed my shaped legs. He wore jeans and a T-shirt. After roaming the whole day, he was fascinated by the local trains. In the evening, he insisted we take the train back home. The train was empty when it started. But in a few moments, the mob marched in, and we got crushed. Rizwan stood in front of me to protect me from others. But in the process, we got stuck with each other as if we were hugging. We were in that position for 20 minutes. At first, I felt awkward, but then I was intoxicated by his smell. His dick was getting hard, and I could feel it. When it was our time to get down, he moved me to the front and kept a hand in front of me to avoid people touching me. I pushed myself onto him such that my ass rubbed his dick. He also put his hand across my boobs. I felt a tingle in my pussy down there. After this incident, we both became more comfortable with each other. The entire next week, we spent the maximum time we could together. Evening tea, walks, dinners, and loads of conversations. We shared about our relationships, broken marriages, kids, and the challenges we faced. My experience moved him. On Friday, when we were at the airport, he gave me a tight hug and a peck on my forehead and said, R: You have suffered a lot of hardships, but no more. I will be there with you and make you enjoy the things you miss in life. See you in 15 days. I felt loved and appreciated. I missed his presence at home for those fifteen days, but he would be in touch with me on video calls. He cared for me and asked about me. We discussed what we would do in the next fifteen days he would be here. After the next fifteen days, we met at the airport as if we were in a relationship and hugged each other tightly. I also did not feel awkward with him touching me. We came home by the crowded metro, and this time, we were clinging to each other, with his dick poking me and arms around my boobs. At home, I started wearing gowns, and he would be in boxers and sando for a start. But even those came off in a couple of days. I could see his size underneath the boxers moving freely. He asked me on my wish list what I wanted to do. We started doing things on those—going to the movies and having dinners at different restaurants. I cooked for him at home. He would drink in front of me and praise me for my looks. Every day, he would hug me while going to work and returning. That weekend he was here. I told him I wanted to try alcohol and smoking, and he taught me how to drink and smoke. I was not too fond of it in the first sip and the first drag, but he slowly made me comfortable with it later. That night the drink made us talk personally, and the topic went to sex. He told me his wife could not handle his sexual appetite and divorced him. About his girlfriends and the prostitutes he had. He told me about his 34-year-old daughter and her divorce. Rizwan: She is more like me, he sexual appetite is too high, and the guy couldn’t satisfy her. He caught her having sex with her colleagues and boss and divorced her. Me: And you did not tell her anything? R: No, why would I? Sex is a bodily need. A female needs it more than anyone else, and the man must satisfy a female. You know I fuck her sometimes now when she can’t get a cock to satisfy her. Me: What? Do you have sex with your daughter? And do you even get an erection? R: Yes, so what? She needs a dick, and I have a long, stiff one to make her cum. In the end, it is only about pleasure. Why don’t you agree? Me: I don’t know. My husband was not sexually active after my first child. He had sex when he wanted and left me high and dry. R: What an asshole? If you were my wife, I would have banged you at least thrice a day, even now. I can see he never cared for you, the kind of clothes you wear, or the lifestyle. And you never fucked anyone else? Me: No, I can’t even think that. People will call me a whore, then. So I wear clothes like this. I know women there wear modern clothes and show a lot of skin. R: Fuck people, do what you feel like. The culture is open, and women are free to wear whatever they want. Even the woman at my place, my daughter, and my GF are mostly naked. They love it. It is very bounded here. You know, you have such a sexy figure that you will raise so many dicks if you start showing your body. Me: Shut up, I am old.