The Car Ride That Sparked My Forbidden Desire for Aunt Riya
A cramped family car ride to a wedding turns into an unexpectedly erotic journey for a young man and his aunt. As they navigate the tight quarters and the antics of a restless toddler, unintentional touches and stolen glances ignite a passionate connection neither of them saw coming.
The car ride to the relative’s wedding was a tight, sweaty affair, with seven of us crammed into my uncle's Swift Dzire. Uncle was behind the wheel, Grandpa riding shotgun, and Mom and Grandma took the window seats in the back, leaving the cramped middle for me and Aunt Riya.
Aunt Riya, my mother’s younger sister-in-law, was around 35, always stunning in her sarees, always the picture of composure. Her little son, Aryan, barely four, was a whirlwind of energy—constantly moving, squirming, talking non-stop, and climbing all over the place. He was the wild card in our tightly packed car, and his antics set the tone for an unexpectedly intimate and erotic journey.
Aryan couldn’t keep still for a second. First, he perched on his mom’s lap, then he leaned over me to look out the window, half invading my personal space. Eventually, he shifted between laps, pushing, nudging, and pulling my arm every which way. The car was so tight that every movement Aryan made pushed me closer to Aunt Riya. Our shoulders brushed, our legs touched, and through the thin fabric of her saree, I could feel the heat of her skin. It wasn’t intentional, just a lack of space, but my mind started to race with thoughts I couldn’t control.
Aunt Riya noticed the tension. Once, when Aryan leaned so hard that I nearly fell into her, she looked at me and smiled faintly. “This boy will never sit still,” she said quietly. Her voice was calm, but her cheeks were slightly pink. I couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment or something else—a mix of both, perhaps. That faint blush and the softness in her eyes hinted at an underlying current of awareness and desire between us.
For the rest of the journey, we sat in a comfortable, charged silence. Aryan finally conked out, leaning against his mom. Our arms rested side by side, and we didn’t speak much. Just sat there, closer than we ever had been before. The silence was filled with an unspoken understanding, a shared awareness of the intimacy forced upon us by the circumstances.
As the car continued to move, Aryan shifted in his sleep, ending up half on my lap and half on his mom’s. His legs were stretched out over me, and he started pushing me with his feet, even in his sleep. Aunt Riya tried to place her hand on his legs to keep him still, but in doing so, her hand ended up over my penis. I got an erection, and she didn’t move her hand. I was sure she could feel it. Based on the car's movement, she rubbed against me unintentionally, enhancing the sensation.
The unintentional rubbing was incredibly arousing. I could feel the heat building up, my heart racing, and my breath quickening. I stole a glance at Aunt Riya, and she met my eyes briefly before looking away, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink. The tension between us was palpable, a mix of embarrassment and excitement that left us both breathless and wanting more.
That night at the hotel, nothing happened between us. Nothing needed to. The unspoken moment in the car was enough to shift something between us. But when I saw her the next morning, she looked at me differently. There was a slight pause, a softer smile, and a silent moment that only we understood. It was as if we shared a secret that changed the dynamic between us, a secret that made our interactions more charged and meaningful.
The next day, everyone was at the marriage hall, but Aunt Riya stayed at the hotel because Aryan had a slight fever. She told the family she would join them later for the reception. Uncle asked me if I could stay at the hotel in case she needed any help. I agreed without hesitation, sensing an opportunity for something more than just assistance.
Aryan was asleep in the bed, knocked out by the medicine. Aunt Riya and I sat on the edge of the bed, talking softly to avoid waking him. She brought up the car ride from the day before, a mischievous glint in her eye. "How was the ride yesterday?" she asked, her voice teasing.
"I had a good time," I replied, matching her playful tone. "You mocked me a lot."
She chuckled, her cheeks flushing slightly. "You felt something, didn't you? You're a man now."
I nodded, feeling a surge of confidence and desire. "I did. And I think you felt something too."
Aunt Riya's expression turned serious. "You're right. I did." She paused, her voice dropping to a whisper. "My sex life isn't great. My husband is diabetic and goes to bed early. I have emotions and desires too."
She looked at me, her eyes searching for understanding. "If you're okay with it, we can have a relationship, but no one else should know."
I agreed without a moment's hesitation. "Okay."
I placed my hand on her thigh, feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her nightgown. She didn't pull away but leaned into my touch, her breath hitching slightly. I leaned in to kiss her, my hand moving up her thigh, feeling the curve of her hip. Our lips met in a soft, tentative kiss that quickly deepened, becoming more passionate and urgent.
Aryan stirred slightly in his sleep, but Aunt Riya assured me he was in a deep sleep and wouldn't wake up anytime soon. She suggested we stay in her room, just in case he did wake up, so she could manage the situation. I agreed, not wanting to risk disturbing him.
My hand moved to her breast, cupping its fullness. "How did you get these big boobs if uncle isn't satisfying you?" I teased, squeezing gently.
She laughed, a low, sensual sound. "Don't worry, these aren't my husband's doing. It's all thanks to my own efforts and a good massage therapist," she replied, her voice husky with desire. "Now they're all yours."
I leaned in to kiss her again, my hand exploring her body, tracing the curves of her hips and thighs. She reached down and started to unbuckle my belt, her movements slow and deliberate. I helped her, pushing my pants and briefs down, freeing my already hard cock.
She looked at me, a wicked smile on her lips. "Let me taste it," she murmured, leaning down and taking me into her mouth. Her deep-throat skills were incredible, her tongue swirling around the sensitive head, her lips tight and wet. I groaned, my hands tangling in her hair, guiding her movements.
After a few moments, I pulled her up for a kiss, tasting myself on her lips. I reached down and pulled her nightgown off, exposing her naked body to me. Her breasts were full and round, her nipples hard and begging for attention. I leaned down and took one into my mouth, sucking and nipping gently, my hand massaging the other.
She moaned, her head falling back, giving me better access to her neck, which I promptly began to kiss and suck. My hand trailed down her stomach, over her hip, and between her thighs. She was already wet, her pussy lips swollen and ready for me. I teased her, brushing my fingers lightly over her clit, feeling her shiver with pleasure.
I moved down her body, kissing and licking every inch of her skin until I reached her pussy. I blew gently on her clit, feeling her shudder, then I licked, my tongue brushing intensely over her sensitive nub. She moaned loudly, her hands fisting the sheets, her hips bucking against my mouth.
"Fuck me," she begged, her voice hoarse with desire. "I want you inside me."
I didn't need to be told twice. I positioned myself at her entrance, feeling her wetness coat the head of my cock. I pushed in slowly, inch by inch, feeling her tight pussy stretch to accommodate me. She moaned, her eyes fluttering closed, her head thrown back in ecstasy.
I began to move, my hips thrusting against hers, my cock sliding in and out of her wet pussy. The room filled with the sounds of our lovemaking—the slap of skin against skin, our moans and gasps, the wet sounds of my cock fucking her deeply and intensely.
Aunt Riya wrapped her legs around my waist, urging me deeper, her nails digging into my back, spurring me on. I could feel her pussy clenching around me, her body tensing as she neared her orgasm.
"Come for me," I whispered, my voice hoarse with effort. "Let me feel that tight pussy milk my cock."
She cried out, her body convulsing as she came, her pussy clenching and unclenching around me, pulling me deeper, milking me for all I was worth. I couldn't hold back any longer, my own orgasm crashing over me, my cock pulsing as I filled her with my hot seed.
We collapsed together, our bodies slick with sweat, our breaths coming in ragged gasps. I rolled off her, pulling her into my arms, holding her close as we both came down from our high.
"That was incredible," she murmured, her voice soft and satisfied.
I kissed the top of her head, a contented smile on my face. "It really was."
We lay there for a while, our bodies entwined, our breaths synchronizing as we drifted into a satisfied, post-coital sleep. It was a morning I would never forget, a morning of passion and pleasure, a morning that changed everything.
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