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Rated: GC · Other · Erotica · #1663082
Vaishali begins a new journey on a camping trip.
Vaishali, the sad angel, walks in the woods seeking liberation and happiness.


A great din ensued when the birds greeted the sun's appearance in the distant horizon with their excited chatter. Its first rays filtered through the translucent material of the tent before breaking down upon Vaishali’s alluring features. She was a light sleeper and the sunlight stirred her enigmatic dream involving bare-chested young men performing strange rituals. She arched her back and stretched her arms, remembering the event she had witnessed the previous night; the spectacular dance festival of the adivasis, local term to describe tribes in India. They were excellent dancers and their vibrant show had thrilled her. She was engrossed in thoughts of their sweating naked chests when her cell phone rang.

She smiled at the number and answered. “Hello, Hema.”

“Mom, I’ve been calling since yesterday,” replied an animated voice.

“You forget we’re camping in the jungle. Signals may not always reach.”

“I know. Hope you’re having a good time!”

“Can’t complain. There is a lot to learn from the adivasis. They live simple uncomplicated lives but are happier and healthier than us city folks. It was a good idea to come for this trip. I’ve been meaning to do an article on them for a long time.”

“Forget work, Mom! You’re there to relax.”

“You’re right. And perhaps, you want to tell your Mom why you called her at five in the morning on her vacation,” she asked laughing.

“I’ve great news, Mom. My reports came in yesterday. You’re going to be a granny!”

“What? Really! Oh my darling! You made your Mom so happy.”

“Can I speak with Papa? I can hear his snores.”

“Sure. Avinash, wake up. It’s Hema.” Vaishali shook her husband’s shoulder. He refused to open his eyes.

“Sorry Hema. We attended a night festival yesterday and slept late. I’ll make him call you when he wakes up. Is that ok, darling?”

“Sure Mom. Love you. Take care and have fun!”

XXX


Vaishali looked at her watch. It would be awhile before Avinash woke up. The news cheered her so much that she felt the need for some activity. I wish I could scream and dance. As a last resort, she planned a walk in the forest. Knowing that the other campers would still be asleep after the late night, she decided against changing her simple cotton gown. Throwing a shawl over her shoulders, she emerged from the tent.

Her groggy head brought back memories of the previous night, of the attentive adivasi boy who ignored the dance and stayed by her side all the time. She didn’t speak his language but enjoyed his silent proximity. He had offered her their traditional drink, made from fermented mahuwa flowers. She was no stranger to alcohol, but it was stronger than any drink she had ever consumed.

The cool fresh breeze caressed her cheeks and fluttered strands of her shoulder-length graying hair. The early morning dew sparkled on the leaves and released pristine scents when it touched the earth. Sweet fragrances of wild flowers enticed the bees which buzzed all around. Birds chirped and branches rustled. Relishing the smells and the sounds, Vaishali pulled a deep breath and walked deeper into the forest. The previous night continued to torment her

Where was Avinash? We went to the festival together but then he suddenly disappeared. Was I so drunk? I touched the boy several times, trying to make it look unintentional. His body was hard, he smelt so nice. she reminisced, feeling restless. She clutched the shawl tighter around her.

When she heard sounds behind, she didn’t turn around with fright. When her body reacted exactly the same way as it did the previous night, she had no doubt about the identity of her pursuer. The events of the previous evening became clearer. Avinash was lost somewhere in the festivities. She was drunk. The boy carried her to the tent, tucked her into bed, covered her with a mattress and departed. Somehow she was certain that whole night he maintained vigil outside her tent. In the morning when she left, he followed her.

She was touched by the youth’s attention, thrilled that she was the object of his passion. It was illogical that such a fine specimen of masculinity would be interested in her aging body, but the thought pleased her considerably. Why didn’t you take me last night? I would have gladly surrendered. She was troubled by the intensity of her need and the worm of guilt crawled its way into her heart.

Avinash was a caring husband and a loving father. She was proud of her journalism but there was no denying that his salary provided for their opulent lifestyle. He was faithful and her best friend. Perhaps, that was the beginning of her troubles. There was a time when he could never have enough of her. Gradually, that changed and after almost three decades of cohabitation, she had become for him the embodiment of feminine perfection. She was the ideal homemaker, perfect mother and best friend; a modern, sophisticated and presentable wife whom he could confidently take along to social gatherings. The more he deified her, the more she detested it. She wished for him to realize her fallibility, recognize her dormant needs. She yearned to be touched, pampered, kissed and claimed. How can a man of his intelligence consider my calmness to be an indicator of marital stability? Can he not read my eyes? she repented.

Hearing rippling sounds she looked ahead to see an enchanting brook. The clear waters tempted her with a naughty idea. She turned swiftly just in time to catch him ducking behind some trees. Knowing that he watched, she treated him to a striptease. She threw down her shawl and pulled the cotton gown over her arms. She had aged with grace, her dusky body filling at all the right places. Her large shapely breasts sagged slightly and there was only the hint of a bulge over her tummy.

She played with her breasts, enjoying the sensation. Next, she lowered her panties and allowed her fingers to linger over her womanhood. She dropped her eyelids and purred with desire under the impact of the tingling sensation. She turned to the stream, rewarding him with the sight of her nude derriere. She stepped into the waters, praying that he would join her soon.

She had hardly swum a few laps when he appeared allowing her to see him for the first time in daylight. Her hungry eyes devoured his physical magnificence and she wanted to run her fingers through the thick hair of his brawny chest. She advanced a few steps to the shore so that her breasts were exposed above the waters. Taking them in her hands, she enticed him with a naughty smile. Her heart leapt when he tugged at his loin cloth. It came off and his manhood stood erect like a spear as he entered the waters.

She melted in his powerful embrace. Far from being a hindrance, the lack of a common language proved to be a blessing. It liberated her from the burden of making intelligent conversation, permitting her to immerse herself in his fulfillment of her physical craving. She pulled his handsome face closer and French kissed him. Her tongue pressed against his and she tasted the spicy flavor of his saliva. She derived gratifying sensations from his rough manly hands which roamed over her bare back before digging into the juicy softness of her hips.

His distended arousal was pressed against her belly. Its tip touched the bottom swell of her breast, making her aware of his endowment. Detaching herself from his powerful coils, she took his hands, kissed them and placed them upon her rounded jewels. The manly touch sent a surge of pleasure through her being and she sighed with happiness when he pawed and roughed her, treating her like a man should treat his woman. The tingle between her inner thighs had now matured to a sweet ache.

He lowered his face to her bosom and she inserted her brown nipple between his parted lips. Moaning under the suction of his wet mouth, she reached out for his manhood. Tentatively, she felt it, having touched only her husband like that before which was a very long time ago. It throbbed with life and vitality. Gasping with happiness, she wrapped both her hands around him. Looking into his eyes, she pumped him which made him clench his teeth and groan like a wounded animal. The agonizing pain between her legs was now unbearable.

She cursed on hearing the human voices. Apologizing with her eyes, she disentangled herself and walked to the banks in sheer panic. But she never made it. She was lifted off her feet and flung over his shoulder, her head and legs hanging on his either side. With deft steps he reached the land, stooped to pick up their clothes and raced in the opposite direction of the voices.

He carried her like a trophy. She had no doubt about the intention of her young abductor. He meant to use her for his pleasure. She couldn't wait for him to begin her violation.

When they reached a secluded area, he lowered her heavily on the ground and fumbled with their clothes on the grass to create a makeshift bed. His eyes ordered her to lie down upon it. She knew there was no escape from his lust; their lust. Without a word she lay down and closed her eyes. She sensed his weight on her, felt his long hard body press against her soft curves. She sensed his mouth on her lips; felt his warm breath. She opened her mouth and allowed him to taste her flavor. She parted her thighs and grabbed his tool.

“Vaishali! Vaishali! Where are you?” She heard Avinash's voice from somewhere nearby. She was too much in heat to care for anything else now. Her long subdued flesh quivered with want and she stabbed herself with the tip of his spear.

“Vaishali! Vaishali!” screamed Avinash.

The risk of discovery increased her pleasure. She moaned as his arousal, hard as nail, pierced the soft folds of her womanhood. His considerable girth made progress painful and slow, but the friction that it generated was exquisite. When he impaled her fully, she locked her legs around his cute hips and savored the pleasure of being filled to the core.

“Vaishali! Vaishali!” The voices faded away.

Birds chirped, insects hummed and branches crackled around the two lovers. Even the squishing sound of his shaft plundering her depths sounded natural because that is what Nature had wanted them to do. Along with the sweet scent of flowers, she also smelled her excitement and the feral smells of his sweat. Their bodies were meshed against each other and she felt every nerve under her skin come alive with sensations.

Her every climax was an explosive scream of celebration. It motivated him to plunge with even greater force. Finally, his manhood succumbed to the gratifying love of her unyielding softness. It erupted within her depths and spilled his hot seed across her womb. With an animal moan he collapsed on her. She caressed his back and ran her fingers through his thick hair.

XXX


The sun was high in the sky when Vaishali returned to the camp.

“Vaishali! Where have you been?” Avinash cried with relief. The other campers surrounded them.

“I went for a walk and lost my way,” she lied.

He was intrigued by the flush on her face. She looked radiant and beautiful.

“I’ve some news, Avinash. Hema is going to be a mother,” she said smiling.

“Wow!” He punched the air, misjudging again the cause of his wife’s happiness. The other campers cheered and clapped.

With childlike enthusiasm Avinash punched his daughter's number on his cell phone, missing his wife's furtive looks toward the forest.

Word Count: 1985
© Copyright 2010 Prof Moriarty tries to return (profmoriarty at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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