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The Milkman's Kashmiri Wife

by Bandra 11/19/06

Author's note: This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached, as long as no charge is made for it and it isn't changed in any way. If it is archived, it is done so on the basis that the author will have unrestricted access to the archive.

This story is a work of fiction. None of the characters or events herein is based on real people, either living or dead. It was produced for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or reading sex stories upsets you, do not read any further. By reading further you certify that you have accessed/requested access to this material willfully, and that you are an adult 21 years of age or older. You also certify that you are NOT a city, county, state, or federal law enforcement officer, official of the United States Postal Service, acting in the capacity of a representative of a telecommunications firm, and that this material does not offend the standards in your area, nor is it in violation of any of local, state, or federal law of the United States or of the country you belong to, and in which, you are a citizen.

My sincere thanks to Literotica volunteer editor "MissZ" for all the good suggestions and editing.

Hi friends, I am Mohan and I grew up in a small town just north of Cannanore in Kerala. I welcome comments to help improve future stories. The main dialog is in English, with a very limited amount of Hindi phrases and conversation in parenthesis.


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After completing my first year of college, I moved to another town to do my engineering studies. Fortunately, my parents had good friends, Vijay and Monica, who had a jewelry business in this town and they arranged for me to stay with them. Vijay was twenty-seven, his young wife Monica was twenty, and they were had married about one year ago. Monica stayed at home, oversaw the housemaid in cooking, and did normal chores around the house. Even though she was very beautiful, I saw her as a family friend and not as the sexy woman that she really was. Soon we became good friends and I helped her with tasks around the house.

One of my tasks was to receive the milk, which was delivered early in the morning by the milkman's wife, Yasmeen. The milkman, Gopal, was in his forties, and had a farm with cows, goats, chickens and a few sheep. He had gone all the way to the Kashmir valley to find a wife from a sheepherder's family, and came back with a fair and beautiful young woman named Yasmeen. The only problem was that Yasmeen was much younger – only eighteen years old – when she and Gopal got married a year ago. The rumor going around was that Gopal had paid a handsome sum of money to her parents in order to marry her.

I usually received the milk from Yasmeen, took the container inside, poured the milk into one of our containers, and returned Yasmeen's container back to her, all rinsed and clean. She would always smile, say some kind words, seemed relieved at the fact that our house was her last stop, and go back to her home.

Yasmeen had a twinkle in her eye and a spring in her step. Her large breasts jiggled as she walked. She wore a cute nose ring, large dangling ear rings, and traditional Kashmiri dress, which consisted of a long flared skirt and a short tight blouse, exposing a good part of her midriff and her cute navel. She had a beautiful figure, and her large round breasts seemed to be struggling to be set free from the confines of her tight blouse, bounced as she walked and were enough to give a dead man a hard-on. Sometimes, at the sight of her, my ‘morning wood' turned into a raging erection, and I would to go to the bathroom, fantasize about her and masturbate in order to obtain some relief. I was just dying to suck on those big boobs and to fuck her young Kashmiri cunt hard.

My good fortune came when Monica along with her husband Vijay went over to Bangalore to spend a short vacation. I seized this opportunity, already had a plan with Yasmeen in mind, and told the housemaid to take a few days off and visit her family.

The housemaid was temporarily gone, and I had the house to myself. As usual Yasmeen came over with the milk which I promptly received, and I went indoors while she waited outside at the backdoor. I put my plan into operation, called out to her, and told her that I needed her help.

"Yasmeen, would you help me with this?" I tried to move the kitchen table over.

She came inside and helped me move the kitchen table. Oh, she was so beautiful!

Yasmeen was absolutely ravishing! She was very light skinned and had a flawless face. I couldn't help staring at her big 36C boobs with nipples faintly visible, her slim waist and taut exposed tummy with the cutest belly button. Her cute little gold nose ring just added to her sexiness. Glancing at her feet, I noticed her toe rings and gold anklets that matched her long dangling gold pierced ear rings. This vision in front of me coupled with all the pent up emotions, made my cock hard as a rock.

In the old days of the Cochin Maharajahs, she would have been the king's favorite wife, and the desire of all the males in his court. I could not resist my emotions, and I reached over and embraced her. Surprisingly, she did not resist. Then I kissed her on her lips, placed my palms on her breasts, and gently squeezed them. They felt very firm to my touch. She got a bit scared and looked around.

"Don't do this, someone might see us. I'm scared. Where is memsahib?" ("Aisa maath karo, koi dekhlega. Mein darthi hoon – Memsahib kahan hai saheb?")

I replied, "Memsahib has gone to Bangalore, now we are alone here." ("Memsahib Bangalore gaya – Abhi hum dono akhela hai.")

Yasmeen was relieved at hearing this. I drew her towards me and kissed her on her full, rosebud lips and caressed her big boobs. From her eyes and her moaning I could tell she was longing for sex, and I lifted her in my arms, and carried her to my bedroom.

"I'm scared, be careful, saheb." ("Saheb, dhar hotha hai – samalo saheb.")

She always referred to me as ‘Saheb', Hindi for sir.

She lay on the bed, I kissed her and desperately tried to undo her blouse, which was so tight because of her big boobs straining to be set free. Finally, I got her blouse off and she looked glorious in her dark blue lace bra. I could see the top portion of her milk-white twin globes with the outline of her nipples that were seeking freedom. I buried my head in the valley (Kashmir valley) formed by her breasts and gently kissed it. I reached behind her, deftly unhooked her bra, and freed her magnificent, perfect, twin globes, with their light brown areolas and erect, hard, light brown nipples. The faint outline of blue veins on the top portion of her breasts were clearly visible. This was a sight for the gods! I sucked on her nipples; first one and then the other.

"Uuuuunnnnnhhhhh…! Ooooooohhhhhhhhh…! Oooooooowwwwwww… saheb!"

My hands dove under her skirt and I stuck my fingers under the elastic of her panties. I felt her smooth labia and immediately realized that she was clean-shaven and her entire mound, labia and pussy were hair free, as is the community tradition for girls in her Kashmiri village. This was the first time that I had experienced a clean-shaven pussy and found this extremely arousing.

My cock was fully erect, rock-hard, and the glans was covered with precum.

Then a naughty idea came to me. ‘Hhhhhhhmmmmmmm…! Since Gopal is an uninteresting type of fellow, I wonder whether Yasmeen has ever had her pussy licked.'

Only one way to find out!

Leaving her boobs exposed to the fresh air, I dove under her skirt and quickly pulled down her dark blue lace panties, and removed them. I squashed her panties into a ball and put it to my face and took a deep whiff of it.

Yasmeen almost fainted with her blushing, and covered her face with both her hands and giggled. However, she was enjoying this type of worship. This was all very new to her and I was positive that I could satisfy her and myself very well. I planted a kiss on her pubic mound. She jumped a little bit. From her reaction, I knew immediately that she had never experienced the pleasures of oral sex. Oh, I was going to give her a good treat! I parted her legs and kissed her labia. Her smooth labia felt different and good! There was a look of apprehension on her face.

"Are you looking at my thing? Do you like it?" ("Kyah, meri maal dek rehe ho? Pasand hai? ") She thought that I was just admiring her pussy.

I was encouraged and my tongue separated her inner lips and licked her wet pussy with some swift up and down strokes.

Yasmeen jerked, her body shuddered, and she jumped up.

"Uuuuuuuuiiiiiiiiiii… Oh my God! What are you doing? It's not clean, saheb." ("Uuuuuuuuiiiiiiiiiii… Bhagwan! Arreh saheb, kyah kartha hai? – woh saaf nehi saheb.")

"Yasmeen my dear, this is very good. Your pussy is very beautiful and very tasty." ("Yasmeen beti, bahut achaa hai, meri jaan. Thumari choot bahut khubsurat aur majedhar hai.")

Her pussy was very wet; she squirmed, giggled, blushed and enjoyed this newfound experience very much. This was conclusive proof, and I knew right then that she had never had her pussy licked ever before, and quickly removed her skirt and tossed it on a chair beside the bed.

Yasmeen looked so beautiful in her nakedness with her perfect, firm, twin globes and their erect hard nipples. Her tummy was flat, with the cutest belly button. Her hips were wide, her mound was fleshy, and her pouting labia tried to conceal most of her inner lips but left the tip of her swollen, blood engorged clitoris exposed. Yasmeen had a well-defined and symmetrical pussy. I parted her swollen labia with my fingers, and admired her pink vaginal entrance. Her smooth fleshy labia were almost pinkish and quite plump. They encircled and framed her petite inner lips, and provided a nice valley at the top, where her inner lips met and formed a tiny pink love bud; her beautiful inviting clitoris.

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