2927 Vadodara Express Ch. 01

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For the reading pleasure of Adults.

© Prahaar 2006. All rights reserved.

Author’s note:

Some of the sexually significant dialogue is in Gujarati or Hindi to preserve the original flavor. Every word has been translated into English.

Thank you for all the feedback, comments, requests, story ideas, encouragement and exhortations to write more. They have motivated me to continue writing. Keep ’em coming.

I really do appreciate the time you take to give me your opinions. I love hearing from my readers, particularly women! The more mischievous the greater fun! Who knows where that might take us! Please send comments to the address in my profile.

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I was 20 years old and just out of college. It was the ’70s. I was a virgin who had discovered the wonders of masturbation some weeks ago. I was very curious and my hormones were raging. If there was a sexual revolution on, it had completely bypassed me. A few old issues of Playboy and some bad Black and White pictures of people at sexual intercourse was the only sex education I had had.

I travel a lot for my work, being in Sales and Marketing.

In the past, many of these trips were undertaken at short notice and trains in India as a rule being overbooked, it was not always possible to get a reserved sleeper. I had just graduated and was out to close deals at any cost to do well on my first job. I used to reach the railway station early in tine for the train to come to the platform. I would then push my way into the unreserved compartment and grab some seats.

In this particular instance, I was 2 hours early. I was going from Mumbai to Baroda and had secured myself two seats on this night train, as was my habit. I would always save a seat beside mine, just in case a friend needed one. If no friend turned up, I would offer the seat to a thin passenger and save myself some discomfort.

It was an extremely cold winter night and the compartment was empty when I pushed in (sheer habit – people push each other even when there is plenty of space). I was sure it would get packed before departure, though.

I was soon joined by a family of four. They occupied the seats across from mine. The man was uncouth, rude and unhelpful and kept snapping at the woman for no reason at all. She did a wonderful job of managing her two young children and all the baggage and maintained a stoic silence all through the ill-treatment. She seemed like a good mother, not passing on any of this shit to her children. After putting away her baggage, she sat her older child down, giving it a cheap toy which easily distracted him. Her other child was an infant girl. She sat down cross-legged in the seat opposite mine and put her in her lap, rocking her occasionally.

She asked the man who seemed to be her husband to shut all the windows since it was so cold and the husband grumblingly obliged, pulling down shutters and windows, completely blocking the station from view. I did not raise an objection. It would soon be bitterly cold. Her husband ordered her to protect his seat and stomped off.

The woman’s facial features were rough but she was by no means ugly. Her face had some tattoos and these and the design of her jewelry indicated her rural origin. She was tall and plump, but not fat. It was difficult to glean more about her body from her seated posture. She seemed relieved at the departure of her husband.

Having noticed that I had been observing her predicament sympathetically, she smiled wanly at me. I smiled back and told her that it was not easy to travel with children. She agreed and asked me how many children I had. I told her that I was not married. She seemed surprised and asked me my age. When I said that I was twenty, she said that some men in her village had three children by that age.

I asked her how old her husband was. She said that she did not know his age or her own, but he was much older than her. This was his second marriage and her parents had been forced to marry her off to him since they did not have the money for a dowry. He was a worker by day in a factory in Baroda and a watchman by night at the owner’s home. She had come to Baroda five years ago after her marriage. Her language was of the soil and she was obviously uneducated. Upon asking, she told me that her name was Mangala but refused to name her husband (a normal practice amongst some Indian women).

‘Don’t you find it difficult to manage without a woman (Baira vagar kem chale chhe tamne)?’ she murmured. I said that I lived in a hostel and so food and other amenities were not a problem. ‘You men have other needs too (Tamne purushone to biju badhu bahu joiye)!’ she hinted. I could not believe that a woman whom I had just met had made that bold comment and I looked at her in disbelief. I had grown up in a conservative family where sex was not even alluded to. I wanted to talk as much on this subject as I could. When she saw my incredulous look, she illegal bahis repeated what she had said.

To provoke her, I said that I did not know what she meant. That drew her out. ‘Come on. You are 20 years old and seem to be able bodied! Don’t you know what a man and a woman do together? Haven’t you been with a woman? Don’t get me in trouble by acting innocent and making me talk all these things. (Chalo have. Vih varahna thaya ane kasayelu sharir chhe. Koi baydi jode suta nathi? Manah ane bairu sathe shun kare te khabar nathi? Ajaan banine mari pase badhu bolavsho na!) ‘ she whispered. I said that I had never been with a woman and pointed out that there was no one else in the compartment with us.

‘What do you do when your thing stands up (Ubho thaye tyare shun karo chho?)?’ she asked. I kept quiet. ‘Probably your thing does not stand up or you would find a woman to put it into. Have you never seen a naked woman? You must have women in your neighborhood or amongst your relatives who can teach you these things. (Ubhu nahin thatu hoye nahin to atyar sudhiman ghalva mate koi bairi na shodhi hoye? Nagi bairi joi chhe ke nahin? Ados-pados ke saga-vhala man koi chhe nahin aa badhu tamne shikhvadva?)’ she asked. I confessed that I had not and did not. ‘You city men go to schools and colleges but are actually completely ignorant and illiterate. You can read and write but can not fuck! (Sheher na purusho shala ane college man jaye pun kain aavde na tamne. Bhanta-ganta aavde, pun chodta na aavde to shun kamnu?)’ she scolded. My head reeled at the use of this four-letter word. What a turn this conversation had suddenly taken! My penis started uncurling and raising its head. We were speaking in whispers, after all this was a railway compartment.

At this interesting juncture, her husband walked in. She lapsed into silence and I cursed him under my breath. He asked me where I was going, what I did and where I lived and I filled him in on all these details. Such curiosity would be considered ill-mannered in the West. To not respond to such queries or not show a reciprocal interest in one’s co-passengers would be considered uncivil in India. I found out his name (A quick smile crossed her face) and where he worked and lived and he readily shared that information with me in minute detail. They lived quite near my hostel.

Suddenly, the infant in Mangala’s lap started crying loudly. She coolly pushed aside the sari, uncovering her blouse. The blouse was almost unbuttoned and I could see the sides of two enormous breasts at the parting of her garment. She wore no bra. She raised one side of the blouse baring a dark nipple and raised her infant’s mouth to it. The child stopped crying and latched on to the nipple, sucking away. She turned her body modestly towards her husband, lowering her sari, hiding this scene from my eyes. The whole process took only a few seconds and although I saw a lot, I could not register much. Feeding babies in public is common in most parts of India.

Mangala asked her husband if he had enough ‘bidis’ (Indian cigarettes) for the trip. He cursed her for reminding him so late, since his brand was not available on the station. He asked me the time. I told him that there was more than an hour and a half left for the train’s departure. He asked her to protect his seat and was about to go off to get his ‘bidis’. The other child asked to go with the father and he reluctantly agreed to take him along. ‘I know that you will ask me for candy’, he said. ‘They will be able to come back in time. The shops are not far away’, I told Mangala after they departed.

Mangala looked at me and our eyes met. She moved her body on her seat in my direction and raising her sari, looked down at her suckling infant, patting it on the head. The infant let go of the nipple and looked at its mother. I could see the nipple clearly now. It was black, elongated and thick like a berry. Drops of pearly white milk were clinging to its surface. The aureole was two inches in diameter and had goose bumps all over it. The nipple must have been three quarters of an inch long. The infant reclaimed the teat and continued sucking noisily.

Next, she raised the other flap of her blouse and the other boob sprang to freedom. The nipple was not as large, probably because it had not been sucked on yet. Our eyes met again and she started patting, palming and pressing her own boob. It was enormous! Putting her palm under it, she raised it and let it settle down a couple of times, as if she was weighing it. She announced proudly to me, ‘Full of milk. I can feed a whole school full of children! (Bahu dudh chhe. Aakhi shala bharine chhokraone paun etlu)’ Then, pinching the area behind the nipple between the fingers of her hand, she tugged it a few times. Her milk jetted from it, spraying over her clothes and the floor.

She did not cover her boobs this time and I unashamedly drank in this show, my penis painfully erect. She shifted her infant to this nipple illegal bahis siteleri and sat up erect, raising one of her knees vertically. Her short, loose and voluminous sari and skirt rose above her knee and her hairy, unshaved leg came into view, pressing her breast to one side. I soon understood what she had done. Anyone passing by in the compartment would be unable to see anything. The windows were shut on all sides and no one would be able to look in. Her sari and leg covered what she was showing me.

Her baby was suckling at one boob. The teat that it had vacated was leaking milk very slowly. She made no effort to cover all this up, although she could clearly see that my jaw had fallen to my lap and I was staring at her boobs. I could see amusement in her eyes. This woman was putting on a show for me! ‘How do you find it? (Kevu lage chhe?)’ she asked me. ‘Beautiful (Saras)., I said.

‘At least now, you have seen a naked woman (Chalo have to ek nagi bai ne joi.)’, she said. I replied that she was only partly naked. ‘Should I strip in this railway compartment for you to learn what a naked woman looks like (Ahin train man nagi thaun tamne badhu shikhvadva mate?)?’ she asked sarcastically. I lapsed into silence, content to watch what she was showing me.

‘Is your cock standing or not? (Lund ubho thayo ke nahin tamaro?)?’, she asked me. In an act of boldness for someone new to the ways of sex, I put my palm on my erect cock and outlined it for her, openly rubbing it over my trousers. ‘It seems like a large one (Motto lage chhe.),’ she said and did something that still boggles my mind. Taking her large, heavy, milk-laden boob in her hand, she raised it and lowering her head, she opened her mouth and licked her own nipple. Then, taking the long milky nipple into her mouth, she gave it a lingering suck. Raising her head, she whispered that her milk was quite sweet (‘Maru dudh mitthu chhe’). All this is an open railway compartment with the risk of passengers passing by and an infant suckling at her other teat!

I furiously rubbed my penis and squeezed it, throwing caution to the winds. ‘Don’t press it too much, or you will come. (Bahu na dabavta nahin to badhu puru thai jashe.)’, she smiled, looking at what I was doing with interest. ‘Does your cock have a big head? That would feel very good coming in and going out of the cunt. (Tamara Loda nu mathu motu chhe? Chut ni under – bahar thaye tyare bahu saru lage)’, she said. Her use of four-letter words was very exciting. I had never heard a woman use such language. I had never heard anyone use such language. I continued my feverish rubbing.

I scooted forward in my seat and bending forward, I gave her boob a squeeze. She closed her hand over mine, pressing it and causing a pulling motion on the nipple. Milk jetted into my palm, wetting it. Then, she put her hand on my rampant erection and feeling its outline, she squeezed it hard. Without a word, I sat back. I wanted to do more but it was just too risky. Her husband could return any time. Some passengers could pass by or come and sit beside us and the consequences would be disastrous. What we had done and were doing was hazardous enough. She gave me a grateful smile which I returned.

I licked droplets of her milk off my fingers. It was indeed sweet and I told her so. She smiled proudly. ‘Some other time, you can suck my milk to your heart’s content. I make a lot of milk (Biji vaar pet bhari ne maru dudh chusi ne pijo. Bahuj dudh bane chhe.)’, she said.

All this had happened in a few minutes and I felt as if I was in a dream.

She picked up her child and laid it on the seat beside her. It had fallen asleep. Now both her milky boobs were visible. For a virgin’s eyes, they were a treasure of sights. Large rounded boobs shaking heavily, thick black nipples slowly leaking milk. My eyes could not leave the sight. I was still rubbing my penis and was close to cumming.

Her eyes were on my penis and she had been looking at it just as intently. One leg was vertical, with her foot on the seat. It was naked all the way up to the knee. The hair on it had probably never been removed but the sight did not put me off. The hair was not excessively dark or thick. Just as interesting contrast to her skin which was spotless but pale in comparison. The other leg was horizontal on the seat.

She pulled her voluminous sari and skirt up slightly and the other leg, which was folded and on the seat, gradually came into view. Her foot, leg and rounded thigh were slowly being revealed. She caressed her upper leg and then her palm moved to her inner thigh. Her mons was still not in view. It was covered by her clothes and her palm. ‘Want to look at my cunt? (Maro bhosdo jovo chhe?)’ she asked coquettishly.

I was speechless. I just nodded my head. She lifted and pulled aside her clothes slightly. She wore no underwear. Her vagina was now revealed. It was dark, plump and covered with hair. She used her fingers canlı bahis siteleri to part the hair and also the dark, thick, fleshy, outer lips. The inner labia were reddish and very moist. Delving lower, she pushed a finger into her cunt and said, ‘Take a look. This is my hole. This is where you must put your cock into a woman. All this sucking at my nipples and looking at your cock has made it very wet and juicy. I have shown you your first pussy. Don’t you dare forget me! Rub your cock slowly. Let us do this together. (Joi lo. Aa mari chut chhe. Aman tamaro lund ghusadvano. Maru dudh chusavine ane tamaro lund joine bahu pani pani thai gayi chhe. Pehel – vehelo bhosdo mein batavyo chhe, barabar joi lejo ane mane bhulta nahin. Jara dhime ghaso tamara lodane. Aapne sathe kariye.)’. I had been furiously rubbing my cock and would have come momentarily. I slowed down.

People had been coming into the compartment but so far our part of the bogey was still empty. The sound level had been going up. We did not have much time. I could see that she was very very alert. At the slightest sound, she could have lowered both ends of her sari and she would be fully covered. All these events had happened in a very short time and it still seemed like a dream.

I could not resist the temptation any longer. Bending forward, I reached out and touched her cunt. Parting her thick bush of cunt hair, I rubbed my finger from the upper portion of the flanges of her twat all the way down to her cunt hole. She was soaked with juices and my finger was soon coated with her nectar. Her inner vagina was thick, wet and silky. I pushed my finger into her hole and it slid in slowly all the way to the hilt. Her cunt was hot. She groaned and equally quickly took my cock into her hand, pressing it repeatedly. She held my hand which was playing with her cunt, pulling out and pushing in my finger forcefully. I savored the warmth, softness and moisture.

We were interrupted by a loud conversation as two porters passed by. Instantly, we were back in our seats and she covered her exposed parts.

I had now touched my first cunt! I told her that I found it very soft and silky (Bahuj pochu ane mulayam chhe). She smiled at the compliment and told me that it would feel even better on my cock than on my finger (Aangli per to kai nathi, haju lund ghusadsho tyare khabar padshe). ‘We better hurry up and finish before everyone comes’ (Chalo have jaldi puru karo aa badhu. Badha aavi jashe.), she said. I did not understand fully what she meant but looked at her expectantly. ‘You press yourself and I will rub myself. I want to fuck you but there is no way’ (Tame tamaro lund dabavo ane muthiya mari lo ane hun mari bhos man aangli karun chhun. Mare tamne chodva chhe pun atyare koi rasto nathi), she advised in a whisper. A virgin man and a willing woman but no opportunity. What a shame!

With two deft movements of her hands, she once again uncovered her twin globes and her bushy cunt. She looked intently at my cock and ran an exploratory finger up and down her gash a few times. She pinched her inner labia between her fingers a few times, tugging them outwards. Then, she settled the finger on her clit and frigged herself furiously, controlling her groans with difficulty. With her other hand, she pressed her boob and small jets of milk sprayed from her nipple. Occasionally, she would roughly push the finger into her hole and it would emerge with a plop. I could hear squelchy sounds as she leaked even more fluids. More than once, she raised her ass off the seat to meet the thrusts of her marauding finger.

I had no idea that women did this. And the sight of a fully grown woman pleasuring herself four feet away from me, excited me beyond any previously known limits. I had been at the boiling point for the last several minutes and the dam was ready to burst. I tugged and rubbed my rampant cock as best I could over my trousers. I soon came in my underpants. For a few seconds, I lost my vision, so violent was my orgasm. I was completely lost in my first sexual experience. I thought I would never stop spurting. Mangala’s eyes opened wide and she stopped frigging herself, suppressing her cries of pleasure with difficulty. She said in a hoarse whisper, ‘I am done. (Hash, thai gayu)’. She saw the growing wet spot on my trousers and smiled and licked her lips suggestively, ‘We will fuck properly some other time’ (Biji vaar barabar chodjo mane).

We covered ourselves and for all outward appearances became two bored strangers waiting for the train to depart.

The rest of her family returned. Her husband reeked of cheap tobacco and the other child soon went to sleep. He asked me if I could help his wife find some part-time work doing domestic chores in my hostel! I acted nonchalant but was pleased as punch. A smile crossed Mangala’s face.

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I really do appreciate the time you take to give me your opinions. I love hearing from my readers, particularly women! The more mischievous the greater fun! Who knows where that might take us! Please send comments to the address in my profile.

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