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Date: Wed, 9 Apr 2025 15:20:53 +0530
From: aluscious kerala <alusciouskerala@gmail.com>
Subject: Mouth Organ Magic

Mouth organ magic

Thank you, dear Tantala, for reworking the story. This story is dedicated
to Gloria as usual.

Please donate in cash for the upkeep of NIFTY.
This is just adult fiction, not related to realty.


A November evening in a silent valley in Wayanad, Kerala, unfolds like a
delicate painting bathed in the golden hues of dusk. The cool, crisp air
carries the faint scent of damp earth and distant cardamom plantations,
mingling with the whisper of the evening breeze as it rustles through the
towering silver oaks and coffee shrubs.

The sky - an enchanting blend of amber, rose, and deepening indigo -
reflects in the tranquil waters of a hidden forest stream, its gentle
murmur the only sound breaking the vast stillness. Mist rises in delicate
swirls from the valley floor, wrapping the rolling hills in a dreamy veil,
while fireflies flicker in the undergrowth, their soft glow mirroring the
stars that begin to bloom overhead.

Distant silhouettes of elephants and deer move gracefully along the fringes
of the dense forest, their presence a quiet reminder of the wilderness that
thrives undisturbed. Somewhere, a solitary temple bell chimes, its echoes
blending with the faint, melodic call of a night bird.

As the evening deepens, the valley embraces an almost sacred silence, where
only the rhythm of nature prevails - a symphony of the unseen, woven into
the fabric of this mystical land.

A November evening in Vythiri, Wayanad, is a spellbinding experience where
nature's charm unfolds in quiet magnificence. Nestled amidst the lush
Western Ghats, this misty retreat is wrapped in an emerald embrace of tea
gardens, rainforests, and rolling hills. As the sun sinks below the
horizon, the entire valley is bathed in a warm, golden glow, casting long
shadows over the meandering streams and swaying areca palms.

The cool mountain air carries the earthy aroma of damp soil and fresh
cardamom, mingling with the distant, soothing sound of a cascading
waterfall. Tiny droplets of mist float lazily above the treetops, veiling
the landscape in a dreamlike aura. The chirping of crickets and cicadas
forms a rhythmic lullaby, accompanied by the gentle rustling of leaves as
the evening breeze whispers through the ancient forests.

Hidden amidst the greenery, treehouse retreats flicker with warm lantern
lights, offering an enchanting view of the valley below. The distant glow
of a campfire dances under the vast, star-studded sky, where the Milky Way
stretches like a celestial river. In the heart of the jungle, a lone
Malabar whistling thrush sings its hauntingly sweet tune, adding to the
valley's mystical charm.

As night deepens, Vythiri transforms into a world of pure tranquility,
where the only echoes are of nature's timeless melody, and the spirit of
the wild lingers in the cool mountain air.

He loved Novembers in the hills, and its teal tranquility after the
chilling rainy nights and the delights in the valleys of exotic flowers.

"Look, this is the spectacle I wanted to show you, this was on my mind all
these weeks," he whispered to Sita, who was particularly silent. She had
been silent for most part of the day. But she looked.

It was a long march, thousands of butterflies were fluttering away. For
reasons not known to zoologists, butterflies used to march that way in
thousands. They were coming in swarms from an exotic land and fluttering
away to the paradise they came from. All of them were of the same hue,
light yellow. It was a stream of yellow bloom, they fluttered and flowed
into the mysteries of the universe.

Sita stood close to the flux, and to his surprise, her yellow skirt matched
well with the butterflies. She was almost like a butterfly, light nimble
and fluttering her way into the ultimate unity of life.

"This is the parting treat I reserved for you," he said, putting his arm on
her slender shoulders.

She furiously slithered away and looked at him venomously.

"What do I do after this?" she asked.

"You can do anything, you are free."

"Freedom! I surrender it for survival."

"Butteries do not stick on, they flutter away."

"You took me away from my home grounds, from my people and ecosystem. You
leave me behind in a god forsaken wilderness."

"No Sita, I am not abandoning you, the one month we promised is over. Today
I will give you the amount we agreed upon, and if you want I can put you on
a train to Raxaul, whence you could proceed to your country. Or you could
stay at the resort as much as you want."

"But, I wonder why I cannot be with you anymore?" she looked at him
scathingly.

"You know me Sita, I am a rootless rascal. The money I had is almost gone,
we celebrated it between us. As a penniless mendicant I will melt away into
the silence of the nation. I will sleep in the wilderness, I will walk with
the faceless wretches, and I will be in no hurry. I cannot drag you into
that pit. You should surrender your freedom at the feet of an entity worthy
of you."

"But why, why should you be so?"

"I cannot be any better, I am a good-for-nothing. I have no income and no
place to stick on, my people have long ago disowned me. And then, I guess,
I am all right this way. We met once, and you offered to accompany me for a
fee. We have visited exotic places, and now the dream is over."

"I don't need your money, not any more, I am miserable. If I go back to my
village, people will ostracise me."

"But, you know, you were selling yourself in your village."

Sita looked at him venomously.

"I am not on sale," she coquettishly flung a wilted flower into the flux of
butterflies.

"Everybody sells something for a living. I sell nothing and I do not live
at all. I fling myself into the flood of life and drift away."

"Sometimes I do not understand you."

"Never understand, Sita, just be."

"I hate you!"

"You hate me because you love me, and I am too much of a savage to discern
the finesse of that pristine love. Much later, upon looking back, you will
congratulate yourself for escaping me. You will explore new avenues of
sensuality and experience and you will not even remember me."

She had been itching to molest him. His last words pushed her to a bout of
rage. She picked a piece of flint and hit him, but it had a sharp edge and
blood dripped from his bearded chin. She stormed away, back to their room
at the resort.

He arrested the bleeding, crushing some tender leaves and pressing it to
the wound. The butterfly march had vanished, and the dream had ended. He
trundled his way back along the lonely cobbled road. The sky was clean and
serene.

A tuft of mountain mist shadowed him, as if he was showing the way. He
wanted to take a rest for a while at the resort and then fade into the
curious cauldron of the Indian nations. He had recruited the girl from a
village in Nepal to realize what the love of a woman was like, it was a one
month deal and a pay package of thirty thousand rupees. She was a poor
village girl forced into selling herself by the imperious compulsions of
life. But she, over time, seemed to have developed a soft corner for
him. Together they had explored the curiosities of the peninsula and spent
many steamy nights together. But he had run out of money and thus was no
longer in a position to pursue the kind of life they had been living for a
month.

Aparna Ayurvedic resort, the iconic health resort near Vithiry and
Sugandhagiri natural park, was a great lure that celebrities from all over
the world made a beeline for. It reverberated with the `Whispers of
Wellness,' a sanctuary of healing it was in Wayanad.

Nestled in the emerald embrace of Wayanad's mist-laden hills, where the
symphony of rustling leaves and distant waterfalls weaves a lullaby of
serenity, stands a sanctuary of healing - Aparna Ayurveda Retreat. It is
more than a health resort; it is a love story written in the language of
nature, whispered through the fragrance of ancient herbs, the gentle touch
of knowing hands, and the tranquil rhythm of yoga beneath an open sky.

Founded by Aparna and her late husband, Vinayan, this retreat is a tribute
to their shared dream - a place where body, mind, and spirit find
harmony. Aparna still walks the pathways of the retreat, her presence like
the soft morning mist that kisses the treetops, ensuring that Vinayan's
vision continues to breathe through every leaf, every healing touch, and
every sacred chant.

At Aparna Ayurveda Retreat, time slows, inviting guests to surrender to
nature's embrace. Here, the air is laced with the earthy perfume of holy
basil, neem, and ashwagandha, grown in the retreat's own herbal garden -
ancient remedies waiting to restore vitality. The hands of expert
therapists, trained in time-honored Ayurvedic massage, move like poetry
over weary bodies, releasing tension, reviving the spirit. Yoga and
meditation, held in an open pavilion where the breeze carries the melody of
birdsong, deepen the connection between self and universe.

The surrounding wilderness - lush, untamed, and alive - cradles this
retreat like a secret whispered by the earth itself. Just beyond its walls,
the streams of Malabar glisten, reflecting the golden hues of dawn, while
the nearby Vythiri forests murmur tales of love and healing. At night,
under a canopy of a thousand stars, the retreat glows with lantern light,
the air resonant with the hum of prayers and the soft strains of a flute -
a song for the soul, a song for Vinayan.

Here, love and healing are intertwined, each breath a renewal, each moment
a step toward wholeness. The Aparna Ayurveda Retreat is not just a place -
it is a promise, a whisper of wellness, an everlasting embrace between
nature and the human spirit.

It was almost like a Love Letter to Healing

Tucked away in the mystical embrace of Vythiri's evergreen hills, where the
earth exhales mist in the mornings and the dusk is kissed by golden
twilight, lies a sanctuary built on love, memory, and the sacred art of
healing. Aparna Ayurveda Retreat is more than a retreat - it is a soul's
refuge, a place where time pauses and the heart finds its forgotten rhythm.

Once a shared dream between Aparna and her late husband, Vinayan, this
retreat now breathes with the whispers of their devotion. It was here,
among the swaying pepper vines and the ancient jackfruit trees, that they
envisioned a space where nature's wisdom and human touch could weave
miracles. Though Vinayan is no longer by her side, his spirit lingers in
every rustling leaf, in the warm embrace of herbal steam, in the tranquil
glow of dusk that settles upon the retreat like a lover's gentle touch.

Every path at Aparna Ayurveda Retreat leads to renewal - whether through
the touch of a healer, the scent of crushed herbs, or the hush of a morning
meditation by the lotus pond. Ayurvedic therapies, drawn from scriptures as
old as time, are crafted with love, infused with the power of turmeric,
ashwagandha, and sandalwood. The therapeutic massages, performed in
candle-lit rooms where time dissolves, feel like the caress of wind over
water - soft yet transformative.

Beyond the treatment rooms, the yoga pavilion stands open to the sky, where
sun salutations greet the first blush of dawn and twilight meditations
dissolve into the sound of crickets and temple bells from a distant
shrine. It is here that weary souls rediscover their own breath, where each
stretch, each movement, becomes a prayer - a silent vow to honor the body
as a temple.

Set against the lush tapestry of Wayanad's rain-kissed wilderness, the
retreat is a world within a world. The scent of cardamom and wild jasmine
drifts through the air, while the soft murmur of the Malabar streams sings
lullabies to those who come seeking solace. By day, the forests shimmer in
green, alive with the songs of birds and the occasional, mischievous call
of a Malabar squirrel. By night, the world turns ethereal - the moon's
silver glow spilling over the treetops, the sound of rustling palms a
whispered blessing from the universe.

Even the rooms at the retreat are a love affair with nature - earthy,
intimate spaces where wooden balconies open to valleys bathed in moonlight,
where the cool air carries the fragrance of rain-kissed earth, and where
every sunrise feels like a personal gift.

Though Aparna walks these grounds alone now, the retreat remains a living
testament to love - not just the love between two souls, but the love
between humans and nature, between body and spirit, between past and
present. Every guest who arrives is welcomed like family, their journey of
healing intertwined with the legacy of two hearts who once dreamed beneath
these same trees, whose love story still lingers in the hush of the evening
wind.

And so, Aparna Ayurveda Retreat stands, not just as a wellness sanctuary,
but as a love letter - written in the fragrance of herbs, in the hush of
meditation, in the touch of healing hands, and in the eternal embrace of
Vythiri's enchanted hills.

It was a beautiful evening, poetic and cool. The cool November evening
enveloped him affectionately as he sat on a cement bench overlooking the
lush green lawns amidst the huts where guests meditated and underwent a
rejuvenation course.

A November evening in Vythiri, Wayanad is a poetic masterpiece painted by
nature itself - a delicate symphony of colors, fragrances, and whispers of
the wind.

As the sun begins its slow descent behind the emerald-clad hills, the sky
turns into an artist's palette, streaked with hues of burnt orange, dusky
pink, and molten gold. These soft, fading colors reflect upon the endless
stretch of tea gardens, turning the rolling hills into a dreamscape of
light and shadow. The mist, a gentle visitor in these highlands, begins to
weave its way through the valley, curling around ancient trees and dancing
over the silver ribbon of streams that cut through the land like veins of
liquid moonlight.

The air is cool, carrying the earthy scent of damp soil and the faint
sweetness of wildflowers. Leaves of deep green and copper glisten under the
evening's golden glow, while fireflies awaken from their slumber,
flickering like tiny lanterns among the foliage. In the distance, the call
of a Malabar whistling thrush echoes like an unbroken melody, blending with
the rustle of the wind that whispers through bamboo groves and cardamom
plantations.

Down in the valleys, coffee blossoms release their delicate fragrance,
mingling with the woody aroma of ancient rainforest trees. The rivulets of
the Malabar hills murmur their timeless song, as if humming a lullaby to
the retreating sun.

As twilight deepens, the sky wears its velvet indigo cloak, and a silver
mist thickens over the meadows. The first stars begin to blink above,
mirroring the glowing village lights that flicker warmly through the
trees. The moon, rising slow and full, casts a soft, silver glow upon the
rolling tea estates, making them shimmer like waves in a moonlit sea.

A November evening in Vythiri is a moment of quiet magic - where the hills
breathe poetry, the skies sing in color, and the earth hums its ancient,
tranquil song.

The silence of the hills soothingly permeated his mind. The vagabond picked
his mouth organ and began to play.

`I will never more set my foot into thy street

We will never again meet, hereinafter

It was my dream to make you mine

But I do not nurse such hopes, hereinafter

and I will find a way to convince my mind

That unfulfilled dreams are sweeter

and never we should meet hereinafter...'

There was a rustle and a flutter. Suddenly lights flickered and opened in
the huts strewn all around. People in strange garments ventured out into
the chill of the evening and flocked around the rustic musician. Shortly a
flash mob was around him, glued to his lips. The enthused crowd inspired
him to play more on the wind instrument.

`when I met you

this thought crossed my mind

My life is scorching sun

and you are my cool shade

Today, one again I told my heart

today once again I convinced it

My life is scorching sun

and you are my cool shade

when you are gone from me

this thought will cross my mind

what did I gain and what I lost?

Except for this realization:

My life is scorching sun

and you are my cool shade..'

Around thirty men and women had thronged around him. They enjoyed the sweet
sadness he scattered around. Many of them did not understand a word of the
lyrics, but the tune conveyed the excruciating sweetness of pain.

The last one to join the rapt congregation was a regal and mesmerizing lady
in her late thirties, Aparna, the proprietress of the facility.

Aparna, the radiant proprietress of Aparna Health Resort, is the very
embodiment of grace and allure, a vision of timeless beauty and effortless
charm. At thirty-nine, she stands at the peak of her youthful splendor,
possessing an irresistible magnetism that captivates all who cross her
path.

Her long, clouding hair, a cascade of midnight silk, flows in waves that
catch the light, framing a face bathed in golden radiance - a complexion
kissed by the sun and perfected by nature's artistry. Her features are
sculpted with delicate precision: high cheekbones, a finely arched brow,
and lips that carry the soft, natural blush of morning roses. Her dark,
expressive eyes hold the warmth of a flickering flame, alive with wisdom,
mischief, and an undeniable spark that sets hearts alight.

Her graceful curves, the essence of feminine elegance, move with the
effortless poise of a dancer, every step exuding quiet confidence and
charm. There is an electric energy about her, an aura that commands both
admiration and comfort, drawing people toward her like moths to a luminous
glow.

Yet, beyond her beauty lies a heart that is kind, lively, and full of love
- the true essence of her enchantment. She speaks with the warmth of an old
friend, her laughter like the melody of a brook cascading over smooth
stones. To her guests, she is more than a hostess; she is a presence that
soothes, inspires, and delights, making the resort not just a place of
healing but of heartfelt connection and unforgettable charm.

Aparna is the soul of Aparna Health Resort, a woman of poise, passion, and
quiet power, leaving behind an impression that lingers long after one has
bid her farewell.

Aparna moves like a whispering breeze, her gait fluid and unhurried, each
step a gentle rhythm in perfect harmony with the world around her. She
carries herself with natural poise, an effortless blend of strength and
femininity, as if she were born to grace the finest halls and yet remains
as grounded as the earth itself. When she walks through the tranquil
pathways of Aparna Health Resort, the soft rustle of her flowing garments
and the faint fragrance of jasmine that lingers in her wake turn the air
electric, leaving an almost mythical presence behind her.

Men find themselves spellbound in her presence. There is nothing loud or
deliberate in her charm; rather, it is an intoxicating subtlety, a beauty
that does not demand attention but effortlessly commands it. They steal
glances, enchanted by the way the evening light catches in her dark,
cascading locks, by the graceful way she lifts her chin when she speaks, by
the depth of her voice - calm, measured, yet filled with a quiet fire. She
is not just beautiful but mesmerizing, a woman who stirs the soul as much
as she pleases the eye.

Women, far from feeling threatened, find themselves drawn to her warmth and
wisdom. Unlike many who possess such stunning beauty, Aparna does not wield
it as a weapon but rather as an instrument of grace and comfort. She is the
kind of woman who can listen to a stranger's troubles as if they were her
own, who makes every woman feel seen, heard, and valued. They admire her,
not just for her elegance but for her strength, for the way she carries
herself with the quiet assurance of someone who knows her worth yet wears
her power lightly.

There is something almost hypnotic about her energy - a mix of mystery and
familiarity, of confidence and kindness. She does not seek to impress, yet
she leaves an indelible mark on every soul she encounters, like the last
light of the setting sun, unforgettable in its quiet brilliance.

She smiled to herself at the audience and also at the rugged unkempt
artist. Her presence spread like moonlight into the congregation. She
exuded the aroma of exotic medicinal plants that she dealt with in the
rejuvenation treatment she offered to select clientele.

She surveyed the audience and suddenly she frowned, for an instant her eyes
fell on the artist and her brows knitted with a flash of thought. She
turned around and walked away in a hurry. Some men and women, though hooked
to the sweet strains, were distracted by the swaying hips of the lady, as
she walked away, the knotted tail of her long cloud of hair oscillating
quaintly just above her hips.


Aparna knocked at the door of a certain hut reserved for the guests.

"Come in," Sita croaked coldly.

Sita was sobbing away her frustration, shutting herself out from the whole
cruel world. Aparna went to the girl, sitting on her bed and stroked her
hair.

"Oh dear, you look distraught, why don't you join your husband, we are all
having a great time freaking out, some are even dancing!"

"My husband? I have no husband, he is nobody to me," she said with acidic
sarcasm.

"I see, I thought you were married."

"That man purchased me for a month, tomorrow the contract period ends."

"Oh, may I know what your plan is?"

"No, I have never had a plan, nor choices, I will drift away, I guess."

The girl looked forlorn and distraught. She did not look as old as she
claimed to be, perhaps poverty had delayed her development. Aparna felt a
surge of pity for the girl, she deserved better.

"I do not seek to know what is on your mind. Perhaps you want to go back to
your people?" The lady strained to say something more.

"No!" The girl was empathic. "I do not want to go back to that place. My
people never supported me, they were never on my side when I needed
them. They will judge me and cast aspersions on me."

"Well, child, I was just wondering. The day I noticed you both, I wondered
how it would have been if I were your mother, if you were my daughter. I do
indeed have a daughter, Smita, still I wish I had another one, a child like
you."

Suddenly there was a transformation. The girl lifted her drooping face and
looked at the lady. Instantly goosebumps bloomed on her. She had, during
the past few days, during the privileged stay at the facility, observed the
lady with awe and admiration. But she had been too timid to get closer to
her. The strange mendicant who had hired her companionship for a month had
been dealing with the lady and the staff.

Sita looked up and she found herself to be under the canopy of the awe
inspiring breasts, encased by a bra and a beige churidar that meticulously
followed the curves of the divine body. A twitch strangely tweaked her
loins. They were the pair of breasts she always dreamed of having, the pair
of breasts she hoped her mother had, even though she had never met her
mother who had abandoned her when she was an infant. The breasts seemed to
flood the bra and to her surprise the nipples were erect, straining against
the bra cups. Then she saw the ivory smooth neck and a simple necklace of
beads hugging the neck. Above that she saw a beaming face, a face full of
love. The smiling face looked like a full moon between the clouds of thick
hair.

"I wish I had a mother like you..." The girl's eyes welled up again.

"I am your mother, Sita, you can stay here with me, I will impart training
to you to treat guests like a full blown professional."

"Oh mommy..." In a lightning surge of misery and happiness, the girl hugged
the lady, putting her arms around her hips, her face buried deep into the
softness of the churidar, just below the bra line. She inhaled the
therapeutic aroma of a mix of herbs. It was the aroma of the ideal heaven
where she believed gods were privileged to dwell. She shuddered at the feel
of the intimacy. Aparna held her close, stroking her hair. The lady bent
down and kissed the softness of Sita's hair. When she did, her taut and
petrified nipples pressed against the face of the girl. The youngster
shuddered and moaned.

"My dear baby, I was worried when you did not turn up for the musical
feast. We missed you, and I am happy that I came looking for you. This was
a pathbreaking rendezvous. The gods in heaven had schemed a great deal to
make this happen at last. You settle your matters with your employer and
part with him amicably. When that chapter is closed once and for all,
please come to me. You are most welcome into our small yet jealously
protected private world."

"Thank you mommy, I will do that, now all my worries are gone, I feel
proud, happy and dignified. Till now I had been a nobody, spurned and
despised by all, now I am on top of the world, because, because... I have a
mommy."

"Certainly you have a mommy dear!" Aparna kissed her crown again and walked
away. "See you dear child, tomorrow, when you are free."

Sita was trembling all over. She was shaken and she realized, almost in a
shock, that she was incredibly aroused! No man had ever made her so
bothered... and so wet! It all appeared so very wicked and kinky; she was
aroused by a lady... Suddenly it was like the lurking devils inside her
were just pouring out.

But Aparna was in a tattered state, so she ran to her private dwelling. Her
breasts were burning and literally bursting out and her panties were
seriously flooded. She wished her own dear daughter was with her right
now. But her daughter would be with her only on weekends, she was a B. Tech
student at the regional engineering college, Calicut.

Aparna collapsed on her bed and her left hand cupped a breast suffocating
in its bra cup. With her right hand she opened her pants and inserted her
hand inside her drenched panties. Her fingers dipped into the buttery
warmth. She brought her fingers to her nose and sniffed the aromatic
flavour. Then she licked her fingers and taste flared up her passions. Once
again she attacked her loins.

"Oh Smita, oh Smita... Ohhhhhhhhhh, oh Sita..." She climaxed staggeringly
and lay writhing on the bed. The night had grown silent, the strains had
died away. She vaguely heard a distant thunder. Another nocturnal rain was
brewing up on the hazy horizon.

The next day, when Sita was free again, Aparna took the girl to Kalpetta,
the district capital. She took her to different stores and shopping areas
and they purchased a load of undergarments and fancy items that the child
took a fancy on. Aparna and Sita's day in Kalpetta was nothing short of
magical. The mist-laden hills that surrounded the town gave the air a crisp
freshness, and the lively streets were bursting with colors from small
boutiques and handicraft shops. Aparna held Sita's hand as they walked
through the bustling market, her heart swelling with love for the little
girl who so suddenly had become the light of her life.

They visited a charming boutique, where Sita's eyes sparkled with delight
at the sight of frilly frocks, embroidered skirts, and tiny shoes adorned
with bows. Aparna watched with amusement as the little one twirled in front
of the mirror, trying on a bright yellow dress that made her look like a
ray of sunshine. "This one suits you perfectly, my dear," Aparna said with
a voice warm with affection. She let Sita pick a few more outfits before
taking her to a fancy store filled with glittering bangles, delicate
anklets, and vibrant hair clips. Sita excitedly chose a set of pink
butterfly clips and a matching pearl bracelet, giggling as Aparna gently
fastened them around her tiny wrist.

After a fulfilling shopping spree, Aparna led Sita to one of Kalpetta's
finest hotels, a colonial-era mansion converted into a luxurious dining
space. The grand chandeliers bathed the room in a golden glow, and the soft
strains of violin music played in the background. They were escorted to a
cozy corner table overlooking a lush garden, where the scent of blooming
jasmine lingered in the air.

The waiter, dressed in crisp white, presented the menu with a polite
nod. Aparna ordered a creamy mushroom soup for starters, followed by a rich
Malabar biryani for the main course. Sita, eager to try something new,
pointed to a plate of crispy fried prawns. As they ate, Aparna watched the
little girl relish each bite, her laughter bubbling up as she recounted
stories from school.

Between bites of dessert - an indulgent caramel pudding - they shared quiet
moments of warmth together. Aparna gently wiped a smudge of chocolate from
Sita's lips, smiling as she saw the child's eyes shining with happiness. As
they stepped out of the restaurant hand in hand, the sky was painted in
hues of orange and pink, the perfect ending to a day filled with love,
laughter, and the kind of joy that only a mother and daughter could share.

At night Aparna allowed the girl to sleep on a spare bed in her bedroom. It
was the bed where her daughter used to sleep occasionally. During the days
around her ovulation, Aparna used to invite her daughter to her own bed,
and they both would look forward to those jubilant days. The daughter
always knew when her mother was in heat. Her skin would have a marvellous
sheen, her eyes would be shining, her nipples would be almost always erect,
her body would be more supple and lively, and above all it was the tell
tale aroma. The lady exuded a herbal musk which was a tell tale.

Now that Smita was out of station, both Aparna and Sita were happy to share
the same room. Sita spread on her bed and looked at her new mother, the
lady was the consolidation of her dreams. She had always sought her mother
in all luscious and lovely ladies. She had always sought a glint of
recognition in the deep and tranquil oceanic eyes of those classy
ladies. This was the fruitful climax of all those closely guarded
aspirations.

The girl laid sideways and feasted on her new mommy. And Aparna feasted
back on the girl, laying sideways as well.

"Mommy, thank you for giving me the greatest day in my life," Sita said.

"Giving you the greatest day in your life was the greatest day of my life
too, dear," Aparna chuckled.

Sita's eyes widened, there was adoration in her young eyes.

"I want to lay here and admire your beauty until the end of times!"

"And I want to lay here and just let you feast on me, darling child."

"You were in my dreams the moment my eyes met you, and you are safe in my
soul ever since that moment."

"Oh baby, you will make me cry."

"You are the dream mother I searched for in the multitudes."

"You are the dream child I wanted to have all these years!"

Aparna pulled out a huge teddy bear and hugged it. Sita's face eclipsed
instantly.

"Oh baby, I hug my teddy bear, it gives me company and warmth when my
daughter is not here."

"I was feasting on you, the bear hug stands in the way."

"Oh, oh dear," Aparna's pupils dilated and she put the bear aside. Her
breasts were once again on display in the thin flimsy gossamer gown and
white lacy bra.

"Looking at you... you know... looking at you, I forget everything and even
forget me," Sita confessed.

"Then just keep looking at me as much as you ever want dear," mommy smiled
back at her and stretched.

They both were aware that those nipples were erect, punishingly and
magnificently erect crowning over the 36D celestial domes.

"In your churidar and saree, your real beauty is not visible. This gown
magnifies your gorgeous elegance. Oh God, how lucky I am to be here to
feast on you!"

"Don't you think that they sag a little bit, in spite of all the exercise,
gravity is gaining on them." She cupped her right breast.

"No mommy, a slight sag is cute, after all they are on earth. Mother earth
also adores them, so does everything on earth, me included."

"During the day I hide them as much as possible, I do not want to distract
and give wrong ideas to my customers. But darling, you may look at them, as
we are now family!"

"I want to worship them to the last of my days!"

"Oh that will be a great promise, ha ha," Aparna smiled.

"When you smile, you put a full moon to shame!"

"Do I? Oh, poor moon!"

It was much later that they faded into a sweet slumber.

As a tenacious apprentice, Sita followed her mommy everywhere. In the
afternoon, Aparna collected her lingerie and gowns.

"They need to be hand washed, as they are very delicate," Aparna said.

They retired to the laundry room, and Aparna changed to a towel draped
around her waist and removed her shirt and she had only a bra to cover her
bust.

On a granite slab, Aparna gently soaped and rinsed her underthings. At the
same time Sita sat on the floor and put each used fabric into a bucket with
a scoop of detergent and water. She loved the feel of the panties and bras,
and the herbal aroma they radiated. On the sly, when curiosity got the
better of her, she smelled and kissed some of them. For once she furtively
looked at her mommy, who was bending over to collect a gown. It was a
staggering, almost apocalyptic moment. In that position, Sita got a
magnificent view of the ripe pussy, which was very oily and glistening. The
hair there was drenched and a tear drop of syrupy honey was hanging down
from the pink oily petals. Sita's breath stocked and she convulsively
licked her lips as a strange thrill coursed through her body almost like an
electric shock. Aparna bent down with a leonine grace and the breasts
magnified in size and shape when the gravitational pull was focused on the
nipples and not on their underside. Sita gasped and a low moan escaped her
lips as she felt herself getting generously wet for the lady. She noticed
that her mommy had discarded her panties which were lying fresh warm on the
floor, steaming and scintillating. Almost unconsciously the girl stretched
out and picked them up. As her mommy was busy otherwise, she buried her
face into it and kissed, then she lost all her self control and
licked. When the warm slimy taste spread into her taste buds, she
stiffened, groaned and then climaxed. She struggled mightily to rein in and
control her chaotic body, but in that process she couldn't help a muffled
moan. Fortunately her mommy was too busy with her laundry to notice.

For the rest of the day, Sita was in a dreamy mood. She moved about like a
somnambulist. She was miserable that her mommy put on a shawl around her
bust over her churidar during the office hours. Aparna could read deep into
the girl's predicament.

"Be patient child, you must not look at them the whole day, there is a time
for everything," Aparna reminded her admirer more than once.

When all the regular chores of the day were attended to and all assistants
were gone, with the guests safe and sleeping in their sophisticated huts,
Aparna sat on her bed, in her gown and began to comb her hair. Both lovers
were having apple juice as an appetizer.

"Can I do it for you, mommy? I just adore your hair," Sita interjected.

"Oh sure, Smita also loves to do it."

Sita ran her fingers through the thick cloud and kissed deep into the musky
cloud. The whole body was exuding a herbal aroma. She massaged the scalp
with her fingers, and combed down along the long way sinusoidal
curls. Aparna closed her eyes and purred. Long time passed, they were not
conscious of time, it was a collective euphoria. Aparna was very sleepy
after the ministrations she was subjected to.

"You are so sweet darling," Aparna sighed as she kissed the girl's temple,
collecting her into those supple arms.

"Could I be your teddy bear, mommy?" the girl whispered timidly.

"Oh, ohh, it is... but, oh yes... why not?" Mommy hugged her. Sita tried to
kiss the lady on the forehead, but it landed on her ear.

"Ohhh," Aparna made a strange wheezing sound.

The girl kissed again, on the ear lobe and behind it. The lady's body was
on fire. Sita kissed her cheek and nose, then the chin. At long last the
lips met tectonically. The lips worshiped each other and the tongues
tangled, the tongues spoke the language current in heaven. Their bodies
melted away, only the divine sensations of the twirling tongues existed.

Together they tumbled to the bed and the girl continued to kiss her neck.

"Can I please worship at my shrine, mommy?" she asked breathlessly.

"Yes darling, anywhere," Mommy huffed.

Sita opened the bust of the gown and kissed all over, as her lady kept
hissing faintly.

They both struggled to get rid of the impeding bra cups, four hands
struggled and fumbled to open the clasp.

As if holding two purring doves in the palm of her hands, she cupped the
breasts. The perfectly shaped cones seemed to make love to her hands. She
proceeded to kiss armpits and the bulbous breasts all over. She did not
leave any part of them and the musky valley in between untouched. Her lips
tickled and tugged on the armpit hair. Aparna continued her quiet hissing
and squealing, holding on to the backside of the girl's head.

"Please darling," Aparna moaned as she pushed a furiously erect nippled
into the young mouth. It was a moment of realization for both
lovers. Aparna squirmed with a newly fanged warmth. Sita suckled and sucked
deep, sucking in the imaginary abstract nutrient from the pleased and
pleasant glands. Her hand cupped the free breast and kneaded the
fulminating nipple.

"My darling, my precious Smita... Ohhhhh... Ohhh precious Sita, precious
Smita, my precious," she crooned and jerked in her mounting pleasure.

Then Aparna climaxed violently, still pressing the girl's head to her as
she shuddered though her ecstasy. She made strange sounds as her body
writhed, and despite herself her body continued to quiver and jerk. Sita
continued to suckle and stroke the breasts, knowing perfectly well what joy
she has given and received.

The lady opened her eyes after a long while.

"My precious baby, you are a great lover! No woman or man could even make
me come like this just by breast stimulation alone. I have wanted so much
to make this happen with my daughter Smita. I guess she would have obliged
me but I did not have the cheek to tell her yet. We cuddle a great deal and
often sleep together. She would lovingly lay her head on my bust. But we
never crossed the no return boundaries."

"Thank you mommy, thank you for accepting me. Please permit me to worship
you the way I always wanted. Many men have exploited me, many have violated
me, many have used me, but I always kept my soul and mind safe and
unblemished, in order to offer them pure and immaculate at the feet of my
divine mother."

"Yes darling, yes! You are the missing element in my otherwise perfect
life. Even before you dawned into it, I used to cuddle and love the
imaginary you. I have been looking for you everywhere. And then, just like
that, you were put before me on a platter!"

For a moment both females were quiet, trying to contemplate the lick that
had brought them together in an ocean of love.

"How do you get this herbal aroma, mommy? I just adore it and it gets into
my cells like a magic spell."

"Oh dear, I handle a great deal of herbs, roots, leaves, nuts, barks,
fruits and shoots. It is an ancient wisdom passed down the generations. We
are what we eat and we are what we deal with."

"Could I spend a lifetime exploring this luscious nubile body, mommy?"

"Oh, please go ahead, darling! I am ready for you, as I know I always will
be. But remember, in public, while we are with our clients, we will be
formal. We cannot mix the profession with carnal frolicking. After all,
that is our life."

"Yes of course, mommy. Now I think I can reconcile with the fact that you
cover your bust so carefully during the day. I just know I may not be able
to control myself if I look at them."

"Oh I know darling, I know. Thus I take precautions. I know the effect they
have on men and even so many women. But we should not leave behind wrong
messages, unless... unless it is absolutely meritorious, you know."

"I know mommy."

Sita kissed the breasts once again and left her hands on the globes. Her
lips kissed their way down over the gown. The gown kissed her back. When
she reached the pelvis, the aroma that met her was completely
overwhelming. But she kissed further, down along the supple, receptive
thighs. It was pure heaven, she had heard of the seventh heaven, now she
was just there.

Sita devoured the lady's toes. She bathed each coltish rose bud in her
mouth. Aparna time and again arched her hips and hissed and her hands
discreetly stimulated her own aching nipples. As the velvet sole of the
feet were teasingly bit the lady squealed and jerked her legs. Then the
kisses moved to the calves and the licks along the soft film of hair. The
gown was pushed up above the knee and the girl marvelled at the musculature
of the limbs. The legs were pale and well sculptured. She gently ran her
manicured nails along the muscles. Aparna squirmed.

Sita drew her breath deeply as more and more aroma wafted out from in
between the thighs. It urged her on and she kissed and licked the soft skin
that twitched delightfully under her tender care. Once again her hands felt
their way back up to the breasts to fight off her lady's own playing
fingers. The hands hovered over the twin peaks like mountain mist hugging
the crown of the verdant mountains.

"I love you mommy, I love you so much," Sita moaned as she soul-kissed the
inner thigh. Aparna yelped out strange sounds of endearment. Her hands came
down to gently stroke the girl's hair. She opened her thighs further and
Sita was transfixed by the white panties with a very wet spot in front. As
she kissed all along the front of the panties the fragrance was stupefying
her. The aroma was the essence of all the medicinal plants of the Western
Ghats. Smell and taste were mutually supportive, and the odour brought her
tongue out as it had a life of its own. Sita licked along the sopping
wetness. Impatiently Aparna pushed her panties to the side and suddenly the
girl was adoringly faced with the oily mat of hair and the red and
glistening flower with sticky nectar bubbling out. It was very transparent
and gassy nectar, viscous and thick, just like the nectar found in banana
flowers which children are hankering for.

Totally in awe Sita collected some of the nectar on a lightly trembling
index finger and licked it. The taste was exotic and enchanting. She
collected more and licked. Then she swiped up more honey and teased the
nipples with the nectar. Then, finally her lips burrowed deep into the
delicate and aromatic flower.

As her inane instincts dictated, Sita licked and kissed the soft fragrant
tissues and the next moment she was rewarded with copious spurts of pure
and salivating honey. Aparna, in a haze of poor reasoning, had a streak of
realization that the girl would need training, yet her appetite and
simplicity were immensely arousing.

The lady guided the girl to her achingly hard clitoris. Sita suckled like a
child and the lady was whimpering aloud. Soon she was pumping her torso
into the young mouth. Her cheeks were burning and her arms trembled, reason
had altogether abandoned her. There was love and adoration in the girl's
every move.

Aparna found herself rapidly losing control and becoming a painful puff of
ecstasy and a disembodied wraith of bliss. She orgasmed fiercely and
remained at that elevated state for a long mind boggling time. It was
unusual for her as such a prolonged climax was totally devastating. Her
nervous system had collapsed, her body had boiled down to a sweet
forgetfulness. She suffered through the great apocalyptic euphoria.

When the lady regained her consciousness, she realized that the girl was
still nursing her flower. Her tongue had probed deep and worked gently to
collect the remnants of the deluge. It was clear that the girl was
completely enthralled by the heavy outpour. When her lady had climaxed, the
squirt was not like the thick glassy honey she had been feasting on. It was
more watery and slightly saltier, and kind of lightly sweet. And she had
been least prepared for the startling outpour, failing to collect and
swallow the full series of squirts. But she managed to ingest a major share
of it. When the convulsions were over, Sita had licked up the spilled honey
and was now licking up the remnants trapped deep inside the creamy soft and
delicious vagina.

Aparna had never experienced such a violent and devastating orgasm. No
woman - and certainly no man - could ever trigger such a firework in
her. She would take many more hours to recoup after the maelstrom of
ecstasy and faded into sleep in a blissful feeling of relaxation and
rejuvenation. She was full and effulgent, radiant and light hearted, with
vital energy rippling in her luscious frame. Sita slept happily along with
her, with her face buried in the scented garden, occasionally nursing and
kissing in her drowsy state of sheer bliss.

The next day Aparna took the girl to the massage room. Sita was amazed. On
the wall there was a strange number scribbled with a marker pen, 59368. she
wondered what it was about.

"Today I will give you the primary lessons on how to offer a rejuvenating
massage. Many ladies will get aroused during the process and we have to
handle that delicately to never offend them in any way. You can join me as
my assistant, and play a supporting or complementary role. Many women love
to have a young girl to take care of them."

"Yes mommy, I would love it!"

The next day began with a flask of apple juice. They both loved the energy
drink, in due course Sita also wanted to have apple juice on and off. They
loved the taste and aroma.

Aparna's massage parlour was indeed a hidden sanctuary of peace and
rejuvenation, nestled as it was amidst the emerald greenery of
Wayanad. Tucked away from the bustling town, it was designed to be a haven
where women could retreat from the stresses of daily life and immerse
themselves in the healing touch of nature's bounty.

As soon as one stepped into the parlour, a soothing aroma of sandalwood,
lavender, and freshly crushed herbs filled the air, calming the senses
instantly. The interiors were tastefully adorned with warm wooden
furnishings, soft candlelit corners, and traditional Kerala murals
depicting Ayurvedic healing. The gentle sound of flowing water from a
miniature indoor fountain added to the meditative atmosphere, creating a
perfect ambiance for relaxation.

Aparna, with her graceful presence and expert hands, had mastered the art
of therapeutic massage using a blend of organic herbal oils prepared from
age-old Ayurvedic recipes. She carefully selected each ingredient -
cold-pressed coconut oil infused with brahmi and ashwagandha for stress
relief, sesame oil mixed with eucalyptus and camphor for muscle relaxation,
and fragrant rose oil combined with saffron for glowing skin.

Her signature therapy, The Divine Rejuvenation, began with a warm herbal
foot soak, followed by a gentle head massage using hibiscus and neem oil to
nourish the scalp. She then moved to a rhythmic, deep-tissue massage,
working in slow, circular motions to release tension from every
muscle. Every touch was infused with care, every stroke designed to restore
balance to the body and mind.

Only women were welcomed there, which ensured a safe and intimate space for
relaxation. Men had a separate facility. Many of Aparna's clients were
travelers seeking solace, mothers in need of respite, and working women
longing for a moment of self-care. By the end of the session, they would
leave feeling lighter, their skin glowing, their souls uplifted, as if the
weight of the world had melted away under Aparna's nurturing hands.

In this little sanctuary of healing, Aparna did more than just offer
massages - she revived spirits, healed weariness, and gifted every woman
who walked in a renewed sense of self, wrapped in the delicate embrace of
nature's own medicine.

The next day, an inquisitive Sita unearthed a book from the bedroom of her
mommy, `The lovely Vixens.' It was a collection of stories written by women
about the love between mature ladies and young girls in their late
teens. Many were autobiographical and some were about mother and
daughter. Sita was deeply engrossed in the stories, and they gave her many
more ideas about worshipping her mommy.

Aparna smiled at her indulgently when she found the girl lost neck deep in
the book.

"It will amplify our horizon of imagination and action, darling. It helped
me overcome many built-in barriers."

"I am moved by the sweetness of the love such bonds are saturated with,"
Sita said.

"Well, the other day you passed an acid test darling. I purposely bent over
and you saw me wet and drooling. I spied on you licking your lips. That was
the test, and you passed with flying colours. Then I saw you pinching away
my discarded panties and licking, and I noticed you even climaxing while
doing so. That acid test cleared away all my doubts and thereafter there
was no looking back."

"Oh mommy, you make me blush all over."

"And your blushing is so sweet, you should see how wet I am for you right
now..." Aparna closed the door behind her and came to the girl sitting on
their common bed. She took the girl's hand and guided it to her wet core
under the saree and panties. Sita pulled out her slick shining fingers and
they both took turns licking them.

"Yummy..." Aparna devoured the whole length of fingers into her mouth. She
washed down the remaining traces of honey from them. Sita withdrew her hand
and her fingers again went inside the saree and panties to collect
more. They took turns to share the syrupy harvest.

"You are so so so delicious mommy, so incredibly aromatic."

"Wicked girl, you know how to provoke a poor old woman like me..." Aparna
pushed the girl back on the bed until she lay there flat on her back. Then
she rolled up her saree and underskirt and pushed the panties to the side
and knelt on top of the girl's head.

Sita knew what was coming and she was abuzz with anticipation. She
continuously licked her lips and opened her arms to receive the urgently
descending heaven. Aparna held the girl's head in her silky hands and
guided her lips to the already dripping opening between the pink fragrant
petals. Sita's lips mashed into them and she sucked deep, drawing them into
her mouth. Her tongue massaged the oily petals, and more glassy ooze filled
her mouth. Aparna moaned and supported herself on her knees, and one hand,
while the other kept clutching the girl's head. She felt the long strands
of honey being eased and pulled out by the suction exerted by the girl and
the urgency and dynamics of the excretion aroused her so desperately she
trembled with lust. The strands of liquidized love seeped and bubbled along
the walls of the vagina and the love channel clamped around the invading
tongue as the lovemaking quickly wound out of control. Aparna hollered
aloud and climaxed, setting full fire to the tinderbox and the hugest
fulminations followed. There was no way she had the chance to worry about
the girl under her, as her body had taken over the moment her senses
eclipsed. She was completely drenching her, literally asphyxiating and
suffocating with her uncontrolled lust. When the paroxysms peaked, Aparna
convulsed and bucked under the violent impact and then slowly fell
backwards on the girl's body. The way she landed her anus was widely
exposed to the girl.

Sita drew a few lungfuls of air and then moved in to lick down at that
tight opening, collecting the truant nectar that had escaped her mouth. Her
tongue was eagerly probing the welcoming anus. She loved the tangy
sensations, sensing the honey was even more alluring in there.

Aparna had not yet descended from the plateau and the new sensations
catapulted her to another spike of raging passion. The tongue composed new
paeans in there, and the lady soon started humping her hips
spasmodically. The tongue wickedly pried and probed deep into the wildly
throbbing puckered hole while the girl's hands came up to torture the
impatient and love laden breasts, through the blouse.

The next moment the lady whimpered aloud as she orgasmed again, thrashing
her limbs against the headboard as she trembled and shook. The climax
worked as a powerful laxative, and in her strange yet sweet stupor, her
muscles relaxed. Her soul left the body and wandered into the heavens.

In the lovely aftermath Sita kept on pampering the sex charged body with
her hands and tongue. The lady lay limp on her slender body, her bottom
opening still glued to the gently sucking mouth. Then another beautiful
thing happened. Suddenly a spurt of urine shot out from the lady's
source. Sita reacted as if by instinct and rushed up to collect it and
ravenously lick it up. Another spurt followed and then another. Sita
collected it all in her mouth. Then it became a torrent, and Sita sputtered
and swallowed for all that she was worth.

Then, suddenly the torrent was arrested.

"Oh sorry darling! Did I urinate on you?! Poor thing, sorry! Really I'm
sorry...." Her eyes were welled up.

"No mommy! I am enjoying every drop of it, it is heaven. Please mommy,
please, give it to me,' she pleaded as she kept licking and tickling the
urethra for more.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh, bay... Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,' Aparna moaned and then the flow
resumed. They both revelled in the intimacy and heady expression of love
involved therein. It was a crucial event that really served to bind them
together as lovers.

When the lady was finally relieved she needed a couple of hours to recoup
and replenish her energy, to get up and change the soiled saree.

Sita helped her undress and clean. Together they redressed the lady and
Sita took her time to dress her mommy's hair.


On the weekend, Smita came home from her college. Both girls took to a
liking for each other. At night the girls slept with their mommy, but
nothing sexual happened on that night.

On Saturday both girls were relaxing on the balcony, sipping hot steaming
green tea.

"Sita, you are the luckiest girl in the world, you have my mommy all to
yourself," Smita smiled.

"Yes, Smita, I am blessed. But mommy loves you more than anybody."

"Yes, she loves me, she had only me, now she has you!"

"When she climaxes, she calls your name, almost always!"

"Oh, I wish I could be in your shoes," she said thoughtfully.

"I wish I were you!"

"If I were you, you could not have had her the way you do now."

"Who knows, some day something may happen. We will get what we desire
most." Sita said.

"I can only worship her and bask in her aroma, occasionally I get to sniff
her panties. When I go back to my hostel I take a pair of her used
panties. They keep me going."

"There is nothing like her aroma, very herbal."

"I wish you spent an age on her breasts. They are the best creations of God
almighty ever."

"I most certainly do, I always do... We are never tired of each other,
those breasts and I."

"You must take very good care of them. They are heavy and hard, but they
have been sagging slightly these recent years."

"I am researching to find the best ways to keep them perfect. She has
entrusted me to them. It is my pleasure to look after them."

"If you share the right measurements, I can bring custom bras for them. I
know a place in Calicut."

"Oh sure, that is a great idea. We should have the best bras for them, made
of the finest material."

"Have you noticed how exquisitely flat her stomach is? Most women of her
age tend to be pot bellied."

"Oh, I know. I literally drool over the stomach and its rippling muscles."

"My dear Sita, how very fortunate you are! She sooo deserves a worshipper
like you. I am happy for her and I am happy for you!"

"Thank you Smita. I wish you also could revel in the pleasures that that
luscious body is endowed with."

"But I worship her almost daily, I worship every part of her body. When I
come next time would you collect a few strands of her pubic hair for me? It
will be my talisman!"

"I would have shaved her down there. But I adore it down there with all the
fur intact. It is filled with the most delicious aroma. Perhaps I can
collect a few wisps and hoard them for you."

"Oh that is enough!"

Back in the massage parlour, while waiting for the client, Aparna whispered
to the girl, "so, naughty girl, you want my pubic hair, don't you?"

"Sorry mommy, you overheard us?"

"Every word. You can collect them any time. Do not disappoint my child. If
you want you can shave the entire thing."

"No mommy! I want it hairy and fluffy, but let me collect a few musky
sheaves for my sister."

"I don't mind if you choose to shave it. Yes, it is nice to be hairy. You
could have it bad for a change, it is up to you."

"Tonight I will harvest a little bit. I do want it hairy."

Aparna took her marker pen and entered on the board 59394.

"What is this number mommy? It is intriguing!"

"It is a long story, dear. I will tell you when we have some time of our
own."

Sita looked at the number and blinked. Then a second thought dawned on her,
instead of being worried about such mysteries, she should feast on the
visual treat that the lady was right here and now. Aparna had put on a
shirt and pants ready for the massage. Those breasts were jutting out
inside the shirt. She could watch the nipples harden when she looked at
them. She was sure that the panties were already collecting precious juice
down there. In the evening it was her cherished prerogative to collect
them, lick them and wash them.

In the weeks that followed, Sita picked up the lessons of massaging and
revitalizing the organs of great specimens of womanhood. She learnt to
admire and appreciate female anatomy and identify the pain points and nodal
junctions.

Aparna, a seasoned master of therapeutic massage, believed that healing was
an art woven with intuition, knowledge, and touch. She had spent years
tending to the weary bodies of affluent women who sought not just relief
from their pains but rejuvenation that would restore their vitality.

Sita, her young protégé, watched closely as Aprana
demonstrated.

"Massage is not just pressing the skin, Sita," Aparna explained, guiding
her hands over the contours of an imaginary client. "It is about
listening. Each knot, each stiff muscle tells a story. Your fingers must
understand pain, soothe it, and then awaken the life beneath."

Aparna began with the pressure points - those hidden reservoirs of tension
along the neck, shoulders, and lower back. She taught Sita how to use the
heel of her palm for deep muscle work and her fingertips for delicate nerve
endings.

"When you find resistance," Aparna said, pressing into an imaginary knot,
"do not fight it. Coax it. Circle the area, press gently, then release. The
pain will follow your fingers out of the body."

She moved on to the rejuvenation techniques, using rhythmic kneading to
stimulate circulation. For the women who came drained from social
obligations, she incorporated aromatic oils infused with jasmine and
sandalwood - scents that calmed the mind and awakened the senses.

"And here," Aparna demonstrated on Sita's arm, "a slow, sweeping motion
from the heart outward - this helps them feel light again, as if shedding a
weight they never knew they carried."

Sita practiced under Aparna's watchful eye, her confidence growing with
each movement. Soon, the wealthy women of the city would leave Aparna's
chamber not just relaxed but reborn, whispering among themselves about the
young apprentice who had learned to touch not just the body, but the
spirit.

On the weekend, Smita was back home again. As soon as they were together,
Smita grabbed the hand of her sister and asked, "did you get it for me
dear?"

"Yes, I have packed a bunch for you, also I have packed a wet pair of
panties for you, they are todays, to be precise, this evening's."

"Thank you so much," Smita embraced the girl in her excitement and kissed
on the cheek. Then they kissed each other and at last they kissed on the
lips.

"You are the devil of a kisser," Smita huffed, cupping her sister's breast.

"Thank you, Smita, I have a great teacher in our mommy."

"One day I want to check how perfect you are in picking a lesson or two
from your teacher."

!I would love it.!

"You truly have blossomed lately. Your breasts have grown and perfected
into great shape lately," Smita said while cupping a breast once again.

"Yes, I am fast becoming a woman, making up for my retarded growth."

"The magic touch of love brought out the woman in you!"

"There is no woman like mommy, she is the last word of feminine grace."

"You are blessed, you only can worship and explore the pleasures embedded
in her."

"Sometimes, when mommy screams out your name in the throes of her orgasm, I
wish you were there, that you could be in my shoes."

"I am happy that she is happy, she needed somebody like you to substitute
me. But if I could worship her the way you do, I will give my life for
that!"


"Don't be silly. You will get what you strongly and single pointedly wish
for. Did you read the book, `The Vixens'?"

"I gave her that book. Every story in that book is etched deep in me. I act
them out in my fantasy world."

"Today's fantasy will be tomorrow's pulsing living reality."

"Let us hope so," Smita looked distant and dreamy.

"Smita dear, I have hoarded something else for you, something you would
never have expected," Sita smiled mysteriously.

"Out with it, what is that," Smita grabbed her sister's hand, "you
torturer."

"Come with me..." Sita dragged the girl to the kitchen. She opened the
fridge and pulled out a vial.

"This is for you," Sita offered.

With some apprehension, Smita picked the strange vial and uncorked it to
smell it.

"Oh God, you did this for me!"

"I wanted to drink it all. But last night I remembered you and how much you
miss mommy. I collected the honey directly from her into a beaker instead
of drinking it all myself. Mommy was amused, she did not object to it at
all."

"Thank you my dearest sister, you are my dearest comrade!"

Smita poured a drop on her tongue and she let it spread in her oral micro
sphere. She closed her eyes and the taste and odour spread in her mouth.

"Oh dear..." She poured more and delicately played with it on her tongue. [
soo beautiful! ]

"Do not store it again, shelf life is poor, I have tried it!" Sita warned
reading her sister's mind.

"You mean I have to have it all right here?"

"Yes, there is no other option."

Smita poured the rest of the potion into her mouth and chewed the slimy
aromatic liquid. As it was the last instalment, she did not want to swallow
it immediately. Sita noticed a droplet perched on her sister's lower
lip. She kissed her and licked away the droplet. Mesmerised by the taste,
Sita laved at the lips more resolutely. Her tongue tried to force its
resolute way in. Anticipating what was coming, Smita feigned to swallow the
whole consignment. In a rage of mock fury, Sita pretended to choke her
sister.

"fifty fifty please," Sita persisted.

At last Smita had to part with half of that honey saliva mix.

In the evening the family had a flask of apple juice. It was a special
luxury on great occasions. Mother and children slept together.

When Smita was deep asleep and gently snoring, Aparna opened her gown and
offered her breasts to Sita. Thus they slept in the warmth of special
intimacy.

In the meantime Sita was perfecting herself as a masseuse. She loved the
job and loved everything associated with her mommy. Life had become a
prolonged jubilation. Both the lady and the protege waited for the special
days around the ovulation.

Smita came for Christmas vacation on the 21st of December and the trio had
more quality time together. Both girls poured over the lady, pampering her
and worshipping her and Aparna enjoyed every moment of it. Behind Smita's
back, the lovers found time to make love, both were addicted to it and
nothing in the world could stop them.

On the new year's eve they had a small get together.

As the last light of the year faded behind the emerald hills of Wayanad,
Aparna's home in Vythiri came alive with a quiet, dreamy glow. The air was
crisp, scented with the mingling aromas of fresh cardamom and the burning
wick of a sandalwood lamp.

Smita and Sita had adorned the veranda with fairy lights that twinkled like
fallen stars caught in the vines. Aparna, in a soft cotton saree, set a
delicate spread on their low wooden table - steaming cups of
saffron-infused milk, slices of homemade banana cake, and a bowl of ripe,
honey-sweet jackfruit.

Laughter rippled through the warm night as the three of them huddled under
a woven throw, recounting old memories - Sita's first attempt at baking,
Smita's childhood dream of dancing on stage, and the countless monsoon
evenings spent listening to raindrops drum against their clay-tiled roof.

As midnight approached, they stepped onto the dewy grass, where Aparna
handed each of her daughters a floating paper lantern. With a whispered
wish, they released them into the cool night breeze, watching as their
golden orbs drifted upwards, carrying their dreams into the star-dusted
sky.

Soft strains of a melody played from an old gramophone inside - a song
their father had once hummed to them. Sita swayed to its rhythm, pulling
Aparna and Smita into an impromptu dance under the swaying silhouette of
the tall areca palms.

And as the clock struck twelve, they held hands and whispered their
resolutions, their voices carried away by the night wind - three hearts
bound by love, hope, and the quiet magic of a New Year's Eve spent in the
warmth of home.

"On the 16th of January, we want you to be back here with us, Smita, we
will celebrate your birthday together," Sita whispered in her sister's ear
when the girl was ready to go back to her college.

59409, one day as usual Aparna scribbled on the white board, and Sita
looked on wondering whether she could suck on those delicate fingers.

"I know what is on your mind," Aparna laughed teasingly. "You want to know
what this number is about."

"No mommy, I was wondering how beautiful your fingers are, I wanted to kiss
them."

"Sweet naughty girl, you are lying!"

"Yes, I am curious about this number, but just now I wanted to kiss those
fingers."

"Then act on it, Miss. Sita," the lady offered her hand.

Sita kneeled in front of her, grabbed the hand and kissed, then she
swallowed each finger and sucked. Aparna looked down on the girl, her
pupils were dilated and her knees were shaky. The girl never failed to
arouse her. She stroked the tresses of the girl. The herbal musk from the
loins filled the room.

"Mommy, you are in heat," Sita said as she winked at her lady.

"Yes dear, it is the beginning."

"I know by the subtle changes in the musk," Sita kissed the lady's stomach.

"You are an assiduous and very dedicated student, dear. Shortly I can
entrust you with independent duties," mommy said as she bent down to kiss
her girl on the lips. Sita blinked at the open top of the shirt and the
hardworking bra cups. Instinctively Sita stretched out and cupped both
breasts.

"No dear, we are on duty, in ten minutes one of the guests will turn
up. Wait till evening, you can have me to your heart's content!"

Reluctantly Sita let the breasts go, the nipples nipped her fingers,
protestingly. Aparna stood straight and adjusted her shirt. Sita played
with one of the buttons of the shirt, just below the breast.

"Darling, tonight I will tell you what this magic number is!"

Hearing that, Sita hugged the mid section of the lady and planted a kiss
just below the bra line.

The whole day Sita was bursting with curiosity, now that her mommy was
going to tell her and share a seedy secret.

At night, as usual, they had a steamy love session. Aparna blessed the girl
with multiple courses of honey punctuated by her explosive orgasms. When
the lady was back to normal and relaxed, Sita came out from inside those
fragrant inner thighs and went to those masterpiece breasts which carried
the initials of God. Aparna willingly opened her bra and offered a nipple
into her mouth. They both enjoyed the sweet sensations for a while,
listening to the sounds of nature outside. [ sooo sweet! ]

Sita was in love with Wayanad, which was a paradise of verdant vegetation
and salubrious climate. The climate could restore the health of any human
being. It was a strange world where tribal communities thrived for
thousands of years.

Wayanad, a lush emerald nestled in the Western Ghats, is where nature
breathes poetry into the land. The hills, draped in mist like a lover's
whispered secret, rise and fall in gentle undulations, cradling valleys
where the fragrance of coffee blossoms lingers in the air.

Sunrays slip through the dense canopies of ancient rainforests, painting
golden streaks on dewdrops that tremble like diamonds on emerald
leaves. The waterfalls - white, frothing cascades of liquid silver - tumble
from rugged cliffs, their endless murmur a love song to the rocks that have
stood by for centuries.

In the heart of Wayanad, the forest pulses with life. Wild orchids bloom in
hidden nooks, their petals unfurling like silent confessions of love. The
calls of Malabar whistling thrushes weave a symphony in the cool morning
air, while fireflies, like tiny stars stolen from the heavens, twinkle in
the darkness of the forests at dusk.

The paddy fields stretch in rippling waves of green and gold, kissed by the
wind that carries the scent of cardamom and pepper, as if the earth itself
is perfumed with longing. The misty evenings bring a gentle drizzle,
wrapping the land in a veil of mystery, as if the mountains, rivers, and
trees are whispering secrets only the moon can understand.

Wayanad is not just a place; it is a feeling - a love story written in the
language of rain and wind, whispered through the rustling bamboo and the
murmuring streams, calling out to the heart that dares to listen.

"I am dreaming and living Wayanad, worshipping these breasts," Sita told
her mommy.

"You have filled out so fast feeding on me, it is fascinating!" Mommy
patted her girl.

"I know mommy, the honey you make for me contains all the essentials for a
girl to bloom and fill out."

"I know darling. But don't be partial. Here baby," Aparna said as she
guided the girl to the other breast.

"Would you tell me more about that magic number, mommy, you promised!"

"Yes dear I was just wondering where to begin," she adjusted the girl's
head into the crook of her elbow and patted her as Sita was well settled on
the nipple.

"Have you heard about the strychnine tree of Vythiry and the iron chain it
holds?"

"Not much, mommy, but I know that something is out of the way, some
occultism."

"Sort of, people from all over the world come to take a look and go back
amazed. There are many things in heaven and earth which defy science and
rationality."

Sita cupped the free breast and kneaded the nipple.

"I will not tell you the story if you distract me, at this rate I may need
you down there again..."

"Sorry, I will only cup this darling..." Sita covered the breast with her
palm.

"The Cursed Strychnine Tree is quite notorious. In the mist-laden forests
of Wayanad, where the ancient trees whisper secrets to the wind, there
stands a lone Strychnine tree, its gnarled branches stretching toward the
sky like frozen arms in torment. It is an unassuming tree, save for the
iron chain that hangs from one of its twisted limbs - a rusted relic of a
forgotten past, heavy with a dark tale of betrayal, blood, and an eternal
curse. The strangest thing is that even after almost a century the branch
did not grow even a bit and it did not even dry away. There is no reason
for that.

Long ago, when the British sought to carve their empire into the wild heart
of Malabar, an ambitious engineer arrived in Wayanad, entrusted with a
monumental task: the alignment of an interstate highway from Calicut to
Mysore. But the land was treacherous, veiled in thick jungle, and sacred to
the local tribal people who knew its every shadow.

Among them was Kaalan, a shaman, feared and revered, with eyes as dark as
storm clouds and a voice that could summon the wind. He had warned the
British not to disturb the balance of the land, for the hills were ancient,
and the spirits restless. But greed, like an unyielding river, cannot be
damned.

One moonless night, as the British engineer pored over his maps, Kaalan
appeared before him. His voice carried the weight of prophecy, foretelling
doom if the road was built. Yet, in a strange twist, he pointed out the
exact alignment of the highway - the path it must take through the
hills. His revelation puzzled the engineer, but he dismissed it as tribal
folklore.

The next morning, the British officers found the engineer dead - his body
twisted unnaturally, his mouth open in a silent scream. The alignment
Kaalan had suggested was eerily perfect. In fear and fury, the British
declared Kaalan a malicious spirit, a ghost who had led them astray. They
captured his lifeless body, dragged it to the Strychnine tree, and chained
his restless soul to its boughs with an iron chain - binding him to the
cursed land for eternity.

From that day forward, the road suffered endless misfortunes. Workers
disappeared into the jungle, only to be found days later, their faces
frozen in horror. Heavy rains washed away entire stretches of the highway
before they could be completed. Even after its construction, accidents
plagued the road, with drivers swearing they had seen a shadowy figure
standing in the middle of the path, his eyes glowing like embers in the
dark.

To appease the spirit, locals began offering small tributes - betel leaves,
turmeric, and even coins - at the base of the tree. Some claim that, on
stormy nights, the iron chain rattles, as if something unseen struggles
against its bonds, seeking vengeance. The elders whisper that the spirit of
Kaalan still lingers, waiting for the day the rusted chain snaps, and his
wrath is unleashed upon those who dared to defy the will of the land.

Even today, travelers on the Calicut-Mysore highway slow down as they pass
the haunted tree. Some glance at the iron chain, others whisper a silent
prayer. And those who listen closely, in the stillness of the night, may
hear the faint echo of a voice in the wind - a warning from the ghost of
Kaalan, the shaman whose spirit refuses to be forgotten.''

"But mommy, how is it related to the mysterious number on the board?"

"I am coming to that honey. Many years ago, a young lady from the Falklands
in the deep south Atlantic came to Calicut. She wanted to forget some
failed love affair, and was travelling the world at a very young age of
twenty. At Calicut she heard about the tree and the mystery behind it. From
the hot and humid plains, she climbed up to this rarified world 4000
thousand feet above. There she heard about our traditional rejuvenation
center where all the tensions of the body and mind are washed away to begin
a life afresh.

She stayed with us for fifteen days. She was supposed to check out after a
couple of days, then she stayed on. She was young and fresh, very beautiful
too. But there was exhaustion and congealed sadness on her young face.

So then, this Eva Sanders, a strikingly beautiful 20-year-old from the
windswept Falkland Islands, had arrived in Calicut with an adventurous
spirit and an insatiable curiosity for the world beyond her remote
homeland. Her captivating blue eyes, as deep and mysterious as the Atlantic
she grew up beside, shimmer with an ever-present sense of wonder. Her
auburn hair cascades in soft waves, catching the golden light of Kerala's
sun, and her tall, curvy frame exuded an effortless elegance, reminiscent
of Marilyn Monroe - an old-world glamour that turns heads wherever she
goes.

She had initially come to explore the historic city of Calicut, drawn by
its legendary spice trade and coastal charm, but it was the misty hills of
Wayanad that truly enchanted her. The rolling green landscapes, ancient
caves, and lush coffee plantations felt like an undiscovered paradise. The
cool mountain air, scented with the fragrance of rain-kissed earth, seemed
to whisper secrets of forgotten stories.

As she wandered through the emerald tea gardens and bathed in the
crystalline waters of a hidden waterfall, Eva felt an inexplicable
connection to this land - a sense of belonging she had never experienced
before. The simplicity of village life, the warmth of the locals, and the
wild, untamed beauty of Wayanad had cast an intoxicating spell on
her. Would she ever be able to leave? Or had the hills of Wayanad stolen a
piece of her heart forever?

She was so gentle and elegant. Nobody could ignore her, one could only love
her and admire her. And one morning she came to me with a request. We both
were of the same age at that time, now also, of course. She said that she
needed a therapeutic massage to purge her of her yesterdays, she wanted a
life from a clean slate."

Sita listened and visualized all that transpired thereafter.

Eva Sanders had heard whispers of Aparna's Herbal Resort - a secluded haven
in the heart of Wayanad, where age-old Ayurvedic traditions merged
seamlessly with nature's healing touch. Intrigued by the promise of
rejuvenation, she arrived at the resort, nestled amidst dense spice
plantations and towering betel nut trees. The scent of crushed cardamom,
sandalwood, and fresh rain lingered in the air, instantly calming her
senses.

Aparna, a graceful woman with knowing eyes and the aura of a healer,
welcomed Eva with a warm smile. She led her to an open-air massage
pavilion, its thatched roof allowing the gentle mountain breeze to drift
in. Soft lamps cast a golden glow, and the distant murmur of a cascading
stream created a symphony of serenity.

The treatment began with a foot ritual - Eva's travel-weary feet were
soaked in warm, rose-infused water as Aparna's protégé, Sita,
gently massaged herbal oils into her soles, pressing on key marma points to
release tension. This was followed by Abhyanga, a synchronized, full-body
oil massage. The warm medicated oil, infused with Ashwagandha and Brahmi,
seeped into Eva's skin, melting away the knots of fatigue accumulated from
her journey.

Sita's hands moved with rhythmic precision - long, sweeping strokes across
Eva's back, kneading away stiffness from her shoulders, then gentle yet
firm circular motions along her spine. Aparna worked on her legs, using
deeper pressure along the calves and thighs, ensuring proper lymphatic
drainage. At times, they used their forearms to glide over her body in
slow, wave-like motions, creating an almost hypnotic sensation.

Next was Pinda Sweda, a therapy using warm herbal poultices filled with
medicinal leaves and aromatic spices. Heated in therapeutic oils, the
bundles were gently pressed along her muscles, releasing a rich herbal
fragrance. The warmth seeped into her very bones, undoing the last traces
of tension.

For the grand finale, Eva lay on her back as a stream of warm medicated oil
- Shirodhara - was poured in a continuous flow onto her forehead, right at
the third-eye chakra. Time blurred. Her mind drifted into a deep,
meditative state, as if she were floating between dreams and reality.

By the end of the session, Eva felt reborn. Her skin glowed, her muscles
were light, and her mind was free from the burdens of the past. As she
sipped a steaming cup of herbal tea infused with holy basil and saffron,
she knew that this experience had touched something deeper than just the
body - it had awakened her soul.

In the beginning, Eva had her private parts covered with two towels. But in
due course the towels slipped away and nobody even noticed it. Eva felt
clean and light headed, her past was divorced from her, a tremendous future
beckoned. She opened her eyes slowly, like the blossoming of a bud. Aparna
was bending over from behind the head of the client and gently massaging
the sides of the solid young breasts.

The first thing that Eva noticed were the delicious breasts hanging down on
her face like ripe and mellowed fruits. In fact the breasts were just three
or four inches from her face and she could see the shadow of the classy
bra. She was enamoured by the musk from the bust, it was the exotic aroma
of many herbs and herbal medicines. Then she saw the charming face looking
down on her own naked breasts. The face was charming and brilliant, young
and intelligent.

Aparna was intently massaging the breasts, systematically working along the
sides to the nipples, and the iteration continued. The breasts were at an
exalted state of excitement. The nipples were pebble hard and fuming."

"You are so beautiful, do you know that?"

Aparna looked down on her client and said. "Thank you, and so are you, I
must say!"

"Now the session is over, but it was a pleasure to serve you. I rarely get
a chance to treat people as beautiful and young as you!"

"I never knew that it would be this wonderful. And you are extremely
beautiful. I had a strong urge to touch you when you were bending down on
my bust. I controlled myself."

"Oh dear, I had to restrain myself, I was dying to worship you!"

"You are so truthful and transparent," Eva said as she reached out and
circled her arms around Aparna's hips. The masseuse cupped the cheeks of
Eva with her hands and bent down. Their lips grazed and then the lips were
locked. The lady cupped both breasts of Eva and the kiss became aggressive
and fierce. The tongue pushed its way and massaged the roof of her
mouth. Eva writhed and moaned. Sweet delicious saliva flowed freely down
into Eva's mouth. She was on an exalted plain of ecstasy.

"Please stop me if I cross the boundaries," Aparna said as she bent over
and kissed each nipple. Eva moaned and her hips jerked. The lady's lips
claimed a nipple and her hands gently teased both breasts. Her breasts were
just inches from Eva's face. She kissed a breast through the shirt and
bra. Aparna did not protest and then Eva frantically opened the buttons of
the shirt and opened the bra. She claimed a nipple with her lips and cupped
the other one with her hand, exactly as her lover did to her.

Their love making continued like that awkward position for almost an
hour. At last Aparna stood up, freeing her breasts from the lips beneath
her.

"Permit me to worship you, the way you deserve as the sacred feminine!"

"I am putty in your hands, Apaaarnie."

"I direly wanted to worship you, it was murderous to restrain myself!"

"You have my permission!"

"I will not overstep your permission."

Aparna scooted to the other end of the table. She began from the feet,
which were slippery and shining with the layer of aromatic oils and
lotions. When she reached the knees, she had the first serious encounter
with an aroma. When she was worshipping the breasts she had got a hint of
that aroma. Now it was pronounced and succinct. She struggled a second to
fix the aroma, then it struck her, it was the aroma of Apple cider. Apple!

Eva was already leaking profusely. Aparna's face sank into the soft turf of
auburn hair, and the aroma was heady and heavy.

Eva was mortally frozen and thrilled. Nobody, not even her lover, had ever
kissed her down there. Her whole body was throbbing now, she was on
fire. Tear drops rolled down from her eyes as an ancient curse was
healed. Her body shivered in high fever.

Aparna licked up a mouth full of the accumulated honey. What she
anticipated was true, the ooze tasted pure and fresh apple juice, sweet and
sour. The lover greedily slurped from the holy spring.

"Eva, you are delicious, you taste like apple, like pure south Atlantic
apple."

Eva arched her hips and moaned. Aparna probed deep with her tongue. Strange
things were happening to Eva, like she was undergoing a kind of chain
reaction. Then she exploded! It was an explosion that defied her wildest
imaginations. Eva never knew such mysteries existed in her body. It was the
first orgasm in her life, and it was an earth shattering one!. She felt
herself melting out and flooding the girl. It was beyond her control and
volition. She convulsed and squirted.

Eva took her time to come around, she was amazed and carried away.

"What happened to me Apaaarnie?" she wailed.

"You had a natural orgasm, dear, a very natural orgasm." Aparna kissed the
girl's vaginal opening.

"It was my first one, did I scare you, did I dirty your face?"

"Oh dear, it was wonderful, a beautiful and musical orgasm. I could not
help but cum along with you. It was so lovely and enchanting."

Aparna continued to kiss down there. She devoured the jutting and prominent
clitoris and teased it, Eva squealed and lurched. Her lover's hands crawled
their way up along the quivering stomach and settled on the breasts. Eva
was on fire once again and the next moment she exploded with a scream into
the devout mouth.

Eva prolonged her sojourn. As Aparna was not married at that time, the next
day Eva moved to her room, and for the next few days they were inseparable.

"Apaaarnie, you gave me a new life and a new insight. Now I know what I am
and I am perfectly at home with what I am. I will come back Apaarnie, I
will, you may count on that. Wait for me I will come back on a confident
footing. We will never say goodbye, I will come for you!"

"Thus dear Sita, the countdown began, or the count up began. And today is
the 59409th day!"

"Has Eva ever contacted you by post or phone, mommy?"

"No, but I know that she will come back. Until then we will have our luxury
of apple juice when we are happy and deserve a luxury in life!"

"I also will wait for this Marlene Monroe of yours."

"Yes dear, one day we will have the apple juice from the other side of the
earth."


On the 16th of January, Smita came back home in the evening. It was an
unusually cold evening on the plateau.

Sita received her with a warm embrace.

"Where is mommy?" she demanded.

"She is preparing a treat for you. But I want to prepare you for the day,
please come along."

Sita had arranged a luxurious herbal bath for her sister. She took her time
to wash and worship the tender and nubile body of her sister.

The dress Sita gifted Smita was a vision of elegance and grace, a flowing
masterpiece in the softest shade of blush, kissed by the hues of a setting
sun. Its fabric, light as a whisper, cascaded down like liquid silk,
embracing every curve with a delicate caress. Tiny, hand-stitched pearls
glimmered along the neckline, reminiscent of dewdrops resting on the petals
of a morning rose. A subtle fragrance of jasmine clung to the folds, as if
the dress itself carried a secret promise of beauty and charm. When Smita
slipped into it, she felt as though she had stepped into a dream -
effortless, radiant, and timelessly enchanting.

"Oh God, you look so hypnotizing, very mouth watering!" Sita screamed.

Sita worked on her sister's face with powder, mascara, eye liner and lip
gloss. A jasmine garland was pinned to her coiffed hair. Then she was
offered a bouquet of roses.

Sita kissed her on the cheeks and lips.

"Now you are ready darling, ready for the landmark rendezvous!" Sita guided
her to the bedroom.

Aparna sat by the window, bathed in the golden glow of candlelight, the
soft fragrance of fresh jasmine and roses weaving through the air like a
love song. Her maroon gown, rich as vintage wine, clung to her curves with
effortless grace, its silken folds pooling around her like the petals of a
blossoming rose. Tiny golden embellishments shimmered with every breath she
took, catching the flicker of the lanterns that bathed the flower-bedecked
room in a warm, ethereal light.

Her heart beat with quiet anticipation, a melody of love and longing as she
waited for the soft patter of approaching footsteps. Tonight was not just
any night - it was the night her little girl, now a woman of eighteen,
would step into the next chapter of her life. Aparna's eyes, luminous with
unshed tears of joy, glowed with a mother's pride, her hands resting gently
over the small velvet box in her lap - a gift, a keepsake, a whisper of the
love that had only grown deeper with time.

As the door creaked open, her breath caught, and in that moment, as her
daughter stepped into the floral embrace of the room, Aparna knew - love,
in its purest form, had just arrived.

The air in the bedroom was laced with the intoxicating aroma of roses,
mogra, and the faintest hint of sandalwood from the flickering oil
lamps. Every corner of the room was dressed in blooms - garlands of jasmine
cascaded from the bedposts, while fresh petals lay scattered across the
silk-draped sheets, a poetic tribute to the love Aparna had poured into
this night. A golden mirror on the dresser caught her reflection, and she
paused, studying herself - the gentle waves of her dark hair falling over
one shoulder, the soft glow of her skin against the deep maroon of her
gown, which shimmered like crushed rubies in the dim light.

Her fingers traced the delicate embroidery on the bodice, a design woven
with care, as if meant to hold her deepest emotions within its intricate
threads. The gown embraced her with a quiet sensuality, its flowing fabric
whispering against her skin as she moved, like a lover's sigh. But tonight,
her heart did not flutter with the anticipation of romance - it swelled
with something far more profound, far more eternal.

She leaned back into the velvet cushions, her pulse a gentle rhythm of
longing, her gaze fixed on the doorway. Her daughter - her little girl,
whom she had cradled in her arms, whose laughter had once filled this very
room - was now a young woman, stepping into a world of endless
possibilities. Aparna's fingers tightened around the velvet box in her lap,
its contents a piece of her heart, a symbol of the bond that not even time
could unravel.

The soft creak of the door sent a shiver through her, and then - there she
was. Her daughter, radiant in the dim glow, her youthful beauty a mirror of
Aparna's own past. For a moment, the world stood still. Then, with a smile
that trembled at the edges, Aparna rose, arms open, heart overflowing.

"Happy birthday, my love," she whispered, her voice wrapped in all the
tenderness, all the dreams, all the love that only a mother could know.

Smita was stunned to the core. She was going to swoon, the impact was
profound.

Aparna opened her arms to the girl. But Smita was way too awestruck to fall
into those arms, instead she fell to the lady's feet and humbly kissed
them. Mommy picked her up and took the bouquet from her hands. Then she
collected the girl into her bosom and embraced her. Smita collapsed into
it, and the lady kissed her on the forehead.

Then her mommy guided her over to the waiting bed, which was strewn with
roses.

"We have been waiting long enough dear. I know how you have suffered for
me, how you have missed me, how you have been craving for me. Today is the
day, darling. You can have your way."

Smita hugged her mommy and burrowed into the crook of her neck. Mommy
patted and stroked the girl.

"You look lovely darling, so sweet!" She kissed the girl's temple.

Mom lifted the chin of the girl and looked deep into those innocent and
loveladen eyes.

"Make love to me darling! I cannot wait anymore..." Mom kissed her on the
lips, it was a chaste and delicate kiss. Slowly the battle of the lips
heated up and tongues took over. [ beautiful expression! ]

The girl sucked deep in her mom's mouth and slurped up the honey gathered
there. It was her long cherished dream. It only served to heighten her
thirst for her mommy. After a while, mommy got on top of her girl and
inserted her tongue into Smita's mouth. Smita drank like a famished
child. Sweet saliva flowed into her mouth to enrich her, to provide her
with the inevitable emotional prop. Her divine mommy was her own now. Their
lips were tired after a heated battle.

Mommy slipped out and lay herself on the bed. She smiled and looked
lovingly into her daughter's eyes.

"What do you want, my darling?" she asked.

"I want mommy, I want to worship these breasts, and I want - I want to
worship... you know... I want to worship your long legs, I have always
loved to love your legs. Your legs look like the tall pillars of heaven!
And then, then, you know, I want to worship every part of your body, I want
to kiss every inch of your precious body..."

"Oh sweet poppet, sweet sweet poppet. You are my own, please take your
time."

Aparna began to open her gown and bra.

"No mommy, let me do it, it is my dream."

Smita tenderly worked on the hooks, mom stroked the girl with love and
care, enjoying the passion and love in her eyes. She was opening the gown
as if she was opening her most cherished birthday gift. The girl screamed
with pride and pleasure as the bosom was unveiled and the breasts beamed in
the brand new lacy bra cups. She cupped the cups and kissed deep into the
cleavage. The slopes of the mountains of breasts hugged her cheeks from
either side.

"I am totally devoted to these darlings," she sighed as she kissed each
nipple through the bra. The nipples were perky and taut. Smita tenderly
massaged the bra cups and admired the feel of it. Her mommy was already
breathing heavily. Her cheeks were bunging again and the world faded into a
blur, her words rounded up into a slur. After a tortuous eternity Smita
reached behind her to open the bra. The breasts spilled out with an
overwhelming gusto and the nipples literally stared at her for some tender
action. She kissed the breasts, the nipples, the cleavage and the armpits
as her mom struggled almost desperately to control herself. After her
frenzied reconnaissance, Smita focused on one nipple and started chewing it
while her hand made love to the other. What Aparna had surmised the most
came true. Just like Sita, her own daughter was able to trigger a breast
orgasm too. And a really big one! It raged through her like a glowing
electric shock and she was a bit disoriented for a few minutes after the
terrific explosion. When she recovered, Aparna realized that the motherly
instinct in her was the factor that made such an incredible difference. But
she did not get enough space to excigate as she noticed her child was
already down on her legs.

"Mommy, I love these legs, these beautiful marble legs," Smita sighed as
she kissed her way up. When she reached the upper thighs, her mom spread
herself wider and moaned. But Smita stopped there. She opened her hair and
started dragging her silken hair along the long legs. The lady squealed
with tickling pleasure. The fluffy rich hair rained dew drop on the lady's
upper thighs.

"Oh dear, oh dear..." she kept repeating.

"I adore these legs, I always will," Smita proclaimed.

"My pet, my lovely darling..." Aparna spread her thighs as much as
possible. Her panties were vulnerably drenched and Smita kissed the inner
thighs and inhaled the familiar musk of herbs. She buried deep into the fur
to get even more of the invasive aroma.

"Oh mommy, oh mommy," she moaned as she inhaled aloud. "You smell like
heaven, Mommy Goddess!"

It was too much for the lady and she orgasmed again, just like that, with
her loins lurching, her breasts heaving and her mouth contorting. Oblivious
of the erratic dynamics, Smita continued to kiss the fur and the petals,
until she couldn't help herself and urgently pushed the panties aside.

The hard clitoris stuck out like a nether nipple and the girl's lips
resolutely claimed it. She sucked for her dear life and in no time at all
her mom was back up on the heights again. She held the girl's head in both
hands and tried to steer her oral assault. The next tectonic orgasm tore
through her ravaged body like a firestorm, making her sense and arch as it
shattered her body until it finally turned into jelly and butter. She
seemed to have lost her mobility and motor mechanism, lying quivering on
the bed like a dying animal shot in the chest.

When she recovered slightly, she found herself being teased in between the
petals. Her girl was licking the honey and savouring the delicious
taste. Her hands were back on both of her breasts. Her tongue worshipped
the pink petals and piously received the nectar seeping out. Soon the lady
once again began to whimper and whine. She humped against her girl's
mouth. She had never been so enormously excited. She was not sure whether
she would survive the next impending orgasm. But she was beyond herself,
dire warning signals were coming, her muscles were becoming tensed and
taut. Then she exploded, she exploded with a chilling, almost frightening
scream. The flood gates were open, and a massive flood of herbal medicine
spurted out. Smita drank the sweet tonic, knowing how very precious and
prized it was. When the tearing spasms died out, the lady was limp and
helpless.

Smita continued to lick and kiss the furry garden. She collected all the
drops spilled out and reached down to the anus to redeem the lost
drops. Her mom opened her eyes much later and moaned, "oh baby, strange
things happened..."

"Mommy thank you for offering me the best possible birthday gift. No mother
could make her daughter so happy and content!"

"I was a bit alarmed, child. I was worried that you would regret this
night."

"Oh never, never! This is my night of nights. I wanted this for as long as
I can remember."

Oh poor pumpkin... poor darling..." She stroked the girl's wet hair. "I
drenched your hair, didn't I?"

"Sorry, I failed to collect it all into my mouth."

"I have to pee and get some water..."

"Please mommy, I know you let Sita drink you... Please let me too!"

"Are you absolutely sure darling?"

"Please mommy! I want everything your body produces."

Her mom was not able to resist her any more. She felt the lips on her
orifice.

"If you find it unpleasant, please let me know," she sighed as she relaxed
slightly to let out a few drops.

"Mommy... more please, please!" She tweaked the nipples.

This time Aparna let go. Smita drank the full outpour until it was finished
and then burped, making them both giggle.

"Thank you mommy, it was sooo delicious..."

"Well, I thought it was obnoxious, demeaning...."

"Never, it was heaven!"

Later they opened a can of apple juice, specially reserved for the day. It
was already past midnight. The lovers slept, with the girl nursing her
mom's breasts.

In the morning Smita had to go back to college. She did so reluctantly,
showering her mommy with kisses from feet to head. Upon reaching the gate
she stopped and longingly looked back.

"Come here my child," her mommy called back with tears in her eyes.

Smita rushed back with a scream and melted into her mom's breast. They got
inside the room and urgently closed the door behind them.

The girl knelt on the floor and looked up pleadingly. Aparna pulled up her
saree and under skirt and guided the girl to her core. The panties were
already very wet. Smita pushed the panties aside and was latched to the
vagina. Aparna let the saree tumble down and held the girl prisoner inside
it. Smit drank like a famished baby dying for her dam's milk. Aparna
pressed herself into the mouth and whimpered. She held the girl's head in
her hands through the saree and leaned back against the wall as her body
was thawing.

Both ladies cried out aloud when the lady climaxed and shot her load into
the hungry mouth.

"Are you okay, darling? Come out and let us kiss," her mommy asked.

"Please just let me be here for a while, mommy. It is heaven in here. I am
never tired of looking at this beautiful sight."

Her fingers were drawing patterns in the fur. Then she pulled the impeding
panties down and cool air kissed the super heated pussy. Smita kissed the
pubic fur all the way down. It only inflamed her greed. Then the girl
pushed her head back in between the thighs, holding on to both of them for
support. Then she kissed both buttocks and pushed deep into the cleavage.

Her mom whimpered and spread her thighs. Smita burrowed deep and her tongue
reached out and up into the rectum. It still had the twang and aroma of the
herbal ooze. Her tongue massaged the bud and suckled. The lady vigorously
pumped into her mouth, whimpering aloud.

"Oh, I am on the brink darling," Aparna warned.

When the searing climax happened, they both collapsed to the floor. The
lady kept on spasming and quivering on top of the girl. When the spasms
died down, Smita came out from inside the saree. Mom opened her eyes.

"You are not going anywhere today, young lady," she declared.

"Well, practicals are waiting, assignments are waiting, still I will stay
put mommy."

"We will have some real practical sessions today!"

"Thank you mommy, it was my dream to watch your body without any
reservations. It was my dream to sit back and watch your nipples harden,
and become pointed the way they did. It is the most beautiful phenomenon in
the world."

"Have you seen them change shape?"

"Yes mommy, when I am around you I furtively watch you stroking my hair and
your nipples changing shape."

"Naughty girl!"

Like giggling school girls they staggered back to the master bedroom. Sita
was already on the bed, her face was masked by the used panties of her
mommy, and she was blanketed by the gown used by her mom. Her right hand
was on her pussy and her pussy was on display.

"Look how beautiful her pussy is!" mother whispered.

"Never as beautiful as yours, mommy."

They both looked at the sleeping beauty and then crawled in to join
her. Mommy offered each breast to the girls and thus they slept again,
making up for a sleepless night.

Though it was Thursday, Smita left for college only on the next Monday
morning. The three lovers had an amazingly passionate time together.

From Monday things were back to normal. By and by Sita was qualified to
offer massages to sophisticated ladies on her own. The poor girl often
found it difficult to ward off the advances of their clients. After the
massage sessions, Sita ate a horny lady only if she was exceptionally
beautiful, with luscious breasts and motherly temperaments.

The facility was busy with guests, assistants and visitors. Sita was fast
becoming the second in command at the resort. She had imbibed on the ground
managerial skills and treated her colleagues with respect and love but she
was stern when it came to delivering the duties.

Many more months came to pass. It was now Sita's duty to manage the massage
parlour. She began every day by changing the number on the white board. Now
it stood at 60072.

She had an appointment in the morning. It was a lady of thirty nine, she
did not care about the details. The client, as per the case sheet, had
headaches and occasional back pains and cramps during menstruation. She
braced herself to give a taste of her professional skills.

The dim glow of scented candles flickered against the soft, rose-hued
walls, filling the air with the delicate fragrance of lavender and
sandalwood. Sita moved with the grace of a dancer, her touch infused with
the wisdom passed down from her mother - an art, not merely a skill.

Louise, the striking thirty-nine year old European woman, lay draped in the
finest silk sheets, her golden locks cascading over the pillow, eyes
half-closed in anticipation. Her alabaster skin, kissed by time yet
untouched by its cruelty, glowed under the flickering light.

Sita's hands, warm and knowing, hovered over her shoulder blades, feeling
the tension before melting it away with a slow, deliberate press of her
palms. A sigh escaped the lady's lips, a soft surrender, as Sita's fingers
traced delicate patterns down her spine, coaxing away every knot, every
burden of the day.

"You carry the weight of the world here," Sita murmured, her voice like
honey, rich and soothing.

The lady turned her head slightly, a dreamy smile tugging at her lips. "And
in your hands, I feel it all dissolve."

Sita let her fingers glide lower, kneading, caressing, awakening every inch
of tired muscle with a touch both tender and firm. She moved in rhythm with
the lady's breath, a silent symphony of release and renewal. Her hands
whispered stories against her skin, tales of ancient healing, of devotion,
of a touch that spoke where words dared not venture.

As the last traces of tension ebbed away, the lady reached for Smita's
wrist, pressing it gently against her own racing pulse. "You have magic in
your hands," she murmured, eyes deep with gratitude.

Sita simply smiled, the unspoken understanding lingering between them like
the perfume of roses in the night.

To her surprise, Sita realized that she was giving more attention to the
lady's breasts. She refused to believe that the breasts were the most
beautiful she had ever seen, perhaps even lovelier than those of her mommy;
strong, heavy and not sagging at all. Then lightning struck, she got the
aroma, the aroma of apple juice!

"Are you, by any chance, Eva Sanders, madam. Here on the case sheet we do
not enter the name of the client for the sake of confidentiality."

"Well, I thought you would never ask! Yes I am Eva and where is my
Apaarnie?"

"Oh God, she will die with pleasure. She is gone to Kalpetta. She will be
here in the afternoon. I hear a great deal about you almost every
day. Mommy has been waiting for you all these years, and today is the
60072nd day of her waiting, look at this white board!"

"Oh dear, I have been preparing for this day for years..."

"Mommy always speaks about the apple juice flavour of the honey you made
for her. And the same aroma is the one that gave you in."

"Sorry I was a bit aroused by your ministrations. I could not help it."

"Your body is just adorable. Now I trust my mommy fully, she was not
exaggerating."

"Thank you Sita, I wanted to present myself to my dear comrade who
transformed me and liberated me."

"She liberated me too, and trained me to treat great feminine bodies with
respect, adoration and admiration."

"I see." Eva ran her fingers along the girl's rounded cheeks.

"Usually supple women ask me to make love to them after the massage
sessions. But here I feel like begging you to let me worship you. You are
so so so alluring and mesmerising."

"I am already horney, why don't you show me your skills then, since your
mommy is far away at this time?"

"Thank you Eva mommy, thank you!"

"If you are not busy with other engagements, please show me how you adore
curvy women."

"I got my first tentative suspicion when I saw these breasts, they fit the
description mommy has given me..."

Sita cupped both towering breasts with her hands. She pushed them together
and the nipples came closer. She bent down and swallowed both nipples into
her mouth. Eva gasped. Sita ran her fingers along the glossy curves of the
breasts. They were soft and satiny, with blue veins sticking out. Her face
plunged between the breasts and licked away the herbal oil. Again her lips
came to the nipples. Eva was already heavily aroused and this was enough to
tip over. She whimpered timidly and climaxed.

"Oh, that was a much needed relief! I was on edge thirsting to meet my
comrade."

"Well, we are far from done. Please just relax Eva mommy."

"I must say that you are indeed gifted and naturally talented."

"I love women and everything pertaining to women."

"It comes naturally and cannot be mimicked."

Sita was at her feet.

"I had noticed these long glistening legs in the beginning itself. I simply
adore them."

"Oh thanks, but you are not the first to notice them."

Sita sensually massaged the legs from the thighs to the toes, with a
feathery softness. Eva's pussy began to throb, and small quantities of
wetness spewed out, the engorged lips began to glisten.

"Will your mommy be angry with you for this? I came all the way only for a
romantic encounter, and then it happened to be with her daughter."

"A clarification is needed here. I am not her natural daughter, I was
adopted, sort of. I am from Nepal. As for the first question, I guess she
would be happy that I entertained you. And who can resist this beauty, when
I was massaging you my mouth really watered at this lovely pussy."

"Really, I was struggling to hide my sexual arousal. The sight of your lips
was literally driving me mad. I just wanted to pounce on you."

"Everything comes to the patient one!"

"Here I am the patient and you are the healer!"

"Look at this mouth watering pussy! Let us not talk and break the spell,
let me worship this beautiful feminine flower. This auburn hair glorifies
the garden."

Sita gently kissed the inner thighs, and Eva closed her eyes to let the
heavenly sensations sink in. then she kissed the petals of the lips to suck
in a pearly drop of consolidated love teetering at the opening. Eva sighed
happily and stretched, spreading her thighs in joyous invitation.

Sita was now kissing and licking all over, lying happily between the open
thighs, and her hands were expertly tortured the very erect nipples. The
effect was explosive. She gently and deftly chewed the clitoris, never
hurting it but applying sufficient pressure to provide and reinforce the
most intense pleasure. And Eva soon realized that a raging tornado was
slowly building up, as fierce as the ruthless polar winds that sometimes
swept past her island group. As the pleasure slowly became unbearable her
whole body tensed, her muscles and tendons turned taut and high strung. She
clenched her fists to take on the emergency, and her feet started jerking
and kicking. Thus she exploded with a deep yell followed by some wailing
yelps as if calling for help. Her inner reservoir of love erupted and milky
heavenly feed surged out from the bottom of her flower.

Sita urgently used her strong tongue to keep up the stimulation as she
swallowed the sweet apple flavoured offering as it kept filling her
mouth. More and more thick sticky milk flowed out, accompanied by a series
of deep moans. As the deluge slowly subsided she continued to lick all
around and up and down the dripping cleft, concentrating intensely on the
vaginal orifice, sucking and licking it hungrily to ingest every last glob
of precious elixir. Eva was still trembling hard and with each spasmodic
throb another mouthful of milky manna emerged. Then she began to throb more
vigorously and faster. Her abdominal muscles became tensed as if under the
fingers of an invisible musician, her tissues sang like the strings of a
guitar. Her eyes were closed and her cheeks twitched. Then she cried out
and arched her loins. The flood of milk that followed was not in discrete
quanta, now it was more like an even flow. The heavenly feed went straight
into its predestined oral receptacle, straight into the hungry famished
mouth. Sita's body and metabolic machinery absorbed the essential nutrient
more urgently than the desert sands ecstatically absorbing the rare
pre-winter rains.

The flow continued even after the high pitched orgasm subsided until it
finally started relenting and subsided into small pulses before it finished
as timid dribbles. Sita patiently hung on and licked every last drop that
seeped forth to bless her mouth. When the spasms petered out Eva laid limp
and spent. She felt light, thin, disembodied and relaxed, like a liberated
dream, a dream freed from the mundane constraints.

Sita slowly came up to kiss the lady's soft twitching lips. They softly
gave way to her advance, and the girl gently and delicately made love to
them, while Eva acknowledged with a distant and subdued moan. She was too
dazed to reciprocate and too sensitized to ignore the ministrations.

Eva's natural proclivity was to sleep face down, and in her half-slumber
she turned over. Sita had been marvelling at the sight of the awe inspiring
towering pyramids of breasts, but they were now kissing the white sheet on
the table. But Sita got a consolation prize, she could feast on the
buttocks. Very gently she cupped them and kissed them, then settled between
the thighs and kissed deep into the cleavage. In her stupefied slumber, Eva
opened her legs, allowing the girl to force her sweet way deeper. Her hands
gently caressed the lady's hair. Sita suckled deep, some honey had settled
there, escaping her clever and well trained mouth. After a while Eva
stiffened and screamed in her sleep as she convulsed into a moderate
climax, pumping her bottom into the hungry mouth.

Sita was in heaven, she forgot all her duties and regular chores. She kept
her face glued to the cleavage and dozed off right where she was...

"What the hell is happening here, is this how you treat my cherished
guests?" Aparna muttered.

Sita sprang up with a start. All of a sudden she was terribly embarrassed
and felt completely naked. Aparna's eyes penetrated her body and mind. She
was done!

To magnify the shame, Aparna was not alone. A charming and almost angelic
looking western girl was with her. She had cute dusky hair, blue sparkling
eyes and a terrific shape, and couldn't be aged more than around eighteen
or so. The girl looked at her with boundless sympathy and love. Sita
scrambled to sit up and save her face. The commotion even disturbed Eva and
she opened her eyes.

"What is going on ladies? Is this a massage parlour or hooker's den?"

"Sorry, you are Apaaarnie, aren't you? Sorry I am Eva, I was just carried
away by this darling's lovely ministrations... sorry."

"Oh Eva, I think I remember you. But this girl is at fault, she breached
her professional decorum, she is not fit for this job."

"No, it was not her fault, it was me who demanded it. I needed it as you
were not around."

"So, when I am not around, you will just pounce on any moving skirt?"

"Sorry, my mission is spoiled, sorry, I was wrong." Eva scrambled to get
dressed.

"Forgive me mommy." Sita fell at the feet of her lady. She was sobbing like
it was the end of her world.

There was a pregnant silence, a very heavy one. Nobody moved, nothing
stirred. Then - finally - Aparna picked the girl up and embraced her.

"You did nothing wrong, my dear child," she said as she kissed Sita on the
cheek. "Dear Sita, we were trying to give you a surprise!" Then Eva also
came up to embraced Sita. The girl looked confused, with tears still
streaming down.

"Sita, meet my dear daughter and companion Louisa Sanders, Louisa, meet our
new friend Sita," Eva introduced the girls.

Louisa demurely said hello to Sita and went into the arms of her
mother. Eva fondly stroked the cute girl's hair and kissed her on the
temple.

Aparna pulled Sita to her bosom and stroked her gently.

"How many climaxes did you give her, Sita?" her mommy asked.

"I think four, mommy," she said, trying the best she could to regain her
composure.

"Yes, at least four," Eva concurred.

Both ladies turned to Louisa. The girl blushed and her lips quivered.

"Now you tell us, sweet angel... Oh how sweet your face is!" Aparna urged.

"Eva mommy and Sita, I suppose I could give four orgasms to Apaaarnie
mommy," she said as she blushed furiously.

"So it is break even then, no winner and no loser," Eva smiled as she
kissed her daughter directly on the lips.

"In love to lose is to win," Aparna opined.

"It was a challenge, dear Sita," Eva explained. "We wanted to find out
which one of you girls is better in the art of pleasing a woman. Indeed,
orgasms are controlled by multiple parameters, like emotional security,
environment, monthly phase of the lady, and a lot more. But to begin with,
we can testify that you both are equally talented."

Aparna regally went over to the white board and erased the number scribbled
on it and wrote the number zero with an exclamation mark.

Eva fished around in her pocket and pulled out a small silver casket and
opened it. Sita immediately recognized what it was; the full set of pubic
hair shaved away from Aparna so many years ago.

"We both have been keeping this at home as a powerful talisman of
sorts. Louise has long since been worshipping this and longing to meet in
person the owner of this `golden fleece.''

Aparna collected the girl into her ample bust and kissed her on the lips.

Sita poured the last remnants of apple juice from a bottle to the small
flasks left on the shelf.

Eva looked at the pack of lovers and somehow she remembered the great
Russian melancholy poet Mayakovsky: In the midnight hours I go past your
door dragging my enormous love behind me!

And a million Mayakovskys trudged their solitary ways dragging their
mountainous love seeking their all healing Enid, rekindling the sad story
of Paris.  Fulfilment is forgetting, forgetting that I am, forgetting
before Abraham was I!

At that moment another character entered the room, Louisa, a swweet girl in
her late teens. Eva collected the girl into her arms and the essential
introductions were made.

``Come ladies, let us go to my spacious bedroom, we will call it day and
find happiness in each other. The pain of parting is more than compensated
by the pleasure of reunion. We will make it the golden night of our
lives.''

Laughing, they marched away holding hands.