Fantasy Breastmilk tradition of Walvan
- Thread starterRajuWalvan
- Start date
- 800
Don't ever stop the story, pls continue as much as long time.
This is a good plot for the boobs & milk lovers.
I liked the story very much
This is a good plot for the boobs & milk lovers.
I liked the story very much
Update 6
The day was unfolding like any other in the household, with the smell of rice and lentils filling the air. The family was gathered around, sitting cross-legged on the floor for breakfast. The sun filtered through the small window, casting soft rays over the clay walls.
Raju’s father, seated in the corner, was eyeing the food, but something was amiss. His fingers drummed absentmindedly on the edge of his plate, and his eyes darted over the meal without any real interest.
"Why aren't you eating?" Manisha asked, setting a plate of rice in front of him. Her voice was a mix of annoyance and affection, like she’d asked him this same question hundreds of times.
Raju’s father, however, seemed unperturbed by her tone. “This isn’t enough,” he muttered, pushing his plate aside. "I’m not hungry for this today. Just... milk. I want milk.”
Manisha stopped mid-action, her hands on her hips, a frown appearing on her face. “Milk?” she repeated, shaking her head. “You’ve had your share of milk already. I need to feed grandpa as well. How much more do you need?”
Sujata, who had been busy serving everyone, raised her eyebrows and looked up. “You’ve become worse than the children, always asking for milk when there’s food right in front of you. What will people think?” she scolded, her voice a blend of teasing and exasperation.
But Raju’s father was unwavering. His gaze shifted toward Manisha, and his expression softened. “Please... just a little,” he pleaded. “I won’t eat this food until I’ve had some. I need something more.”
Manisha sighed dramatically, her lips curving into a resigned smile. She set the rice aside and wiped her hands on her sari. “Fine,” she muttered, “but this is the last time today. You really spoil yourself, you know that?”
Without waiting for a response, she slid onto the mat next to him, her body still tense from the scolding she’d just given him. Manisha adjusted her sari, the fabric sweeping gently over the floor as she reached for her blouse. With one swift motion, she unhooked the top buttons and pulled it aside. She ran the edge of her pallu over her breast, quickly wiping away any remnants of milk from the earlier morning feeds.
Raju’s father, now leaning toward her with a mix of impatience and anticipation, lowered his head onto her breast. Without a word, he latched on her nipple, his face lighting up with a quiet sense of contentment.
Manisha, who was already feeling the weight of the day’s chores, gritted her teeth and rolled her eyes as he began drinking. “Drink slowly, and dont even try to slip your hand on my other breast” she instructed, adjusting him on her lap with one hand. “You always do this—rushing, making me uncomfortable.” She sighed. “Don’t use your teeth this time, or I’ll pinch you.”
Rajus father, not missing a beat, shifted slightly but continued to drink. The silence between them was filled only by the quiet gushing sounds coming from manisha's nipple and the faint creak of the house as the others continued with their day.
Sujata, sitting a little farther down the room, rolled her eyes at the scene. “You’re spoiling him, Manisha,” she said without looking up. “He’s never satisfied, he just wants to suck our breasts”
Manisha grinned as she pulled rajus father away from her breast after a few moments. “I swear, he acts like he’s still a child. It’s like he forgets how to eat properly every day.”
With one last reprimanding look at him, Manisha wiped her breast once more with the pallu, wiping away the drops of milk that had dribbled from the corner of his mouth. “Go on, eat your food now. I’ve got enough work to do without feeding you all day.”
But before she could stand, Raju’s father’s hands reached out toward Sujata, his face pleading.
“Sujata,” he called softly. “Just a little more, please.”
Sujata looked at him with exasperation but couldn’t help the corner of her lips turning upward. “You’re unbelievable,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Fine. But after this, you better eat your meal. Or no more milk for you today.”
Without another word, Raju’s father shuffled over to her, and Sujata made space for him next to her. She lifted her blouse with practiced ease, wiped his mouth with the pallu, and guided him to latch on. Her eyes were already focused on the kitchen tasks waiting for her, but there was no denying the maternal comfort she felt as she helped him.
“Not too rough this time, okay?” she warned, flicking her fingers in mock frustration. “I don’t have time to keep pulling you off and on.”
He nodded sheepishly and adjusted his position, but his grip remained tight.
Sujata smiled to herself, but her patience was wearing thin. “ Bhaiya, you’re worse than a baby sometimes,” she muttered, brushing his hair back gently as he drank. “You’re never satisfied.”
Manisha, who had returned to her sweeping, watched the scene with an amused smirk. “Oh, you know it. If we don’t keep him in check, he’d spend all day on our breasts.”
Sujata and Manisha exchanged a brief, knowing look. The teasing and scolding felt almost routine. They had long since ceased being surprised by Raju’s father’s milk cravings.
Finally, Raju’s father pulled away, looking satisfied. Sujata tucked her breasts back in, rolling her eyes as she went to stand. “Alright, go eat your food, and stop being so spoiled.”
As the family resumed their breakfast, Raju’s father now content and eating, the two aunts went back to their chores. The interruptions were natural, woven into the rhythm of their day, with milk always taking precedence. For these women, this was simply life, as familiar and necessary as the air they breathed
The day was unfolding like any other in the household, with the smell of rice and lentils filling the air. The family was gathered around, sitting cross-legged on the floor for breakfast. The sun filtered through the small window, casting soft rays over the clay walls.
Raju’s father, seated in the corner, was eyeing the food, but something was amiss. His fingers drummed absentmindedly on the edge of his plate, and his eyes darted over the meal without any real interest.
"Why aren't you eating?" Manisha asked, setting a plate of rice in front of him. Her voice was a mix of annoyance and affection, like she’d asked him this same question hundreds of times.
Raju’s father, however, seemed unperturbed by her tone. “This isn’t enough,” he muttered, pushing his plate aside. "I’m not hungry for this today. Just... milk. I want milk.”
Manisha stopped mid-action, her hands on her hips, a frown appearing on her face. “Milk?” she repeated, shaking her head. “You’ve had your share of milk already. I need to feed grandpa as well. How much more do you need?”
Sujata, who had been busy serving everyone, raised her eyebrows and looked up. “You’ve become worse than the children, always asking for milk when there’s food right in front of you. What will people think?” she scolded, her voice a blend of teasing and exasperation.
But Raju’s father was unwavering. His gaze shifted toward Manisha, and his expression softened. “Please... just a little,” he pleaded. “I won’t eat this food until I’ve had some. I need something more.”
Manisha sighed dramatically, her lips curving into a resigned smile. She set the rice aside and wiped her hands on her sari. “Fine,” she muttered, “but this is the last time today. You really spoil yourself, you know that?”
Without waiting for a response, she slid onto the mat next to him, her body still tense from the scolding she’d just given him. Manisha adjusted her sari, the fabric sweeping gently over the floor as she reached for her blouse. With one swift motion, she unhooked the top buttons and pulled it aside. She ran the edge of her pallu over her breast, quickly wiping away any remnants of milk from the earlier morning feeds.
Raju’s father, now leaning toward her with a mix of impatience and anticipation, lowered his head onto her breast. Without a word, he latched on her nipple, his face lighting up with a quiet sense of contentment.
Manisha, who was already feeling the weight of the day’s chores, gritted her teeth and rolled her eyes as he began drinking. “Drink slowly, and dont even try to slip your hand on my other breast” she instructed, adjusting him on her lap with one hand. “You always do this—rushing, making me uncomfortable.” She sighed. “Don’t use your teeth this time, or I’ll pinch you.”
Rajus father, not missing a beat, shifted slightly but continued to drink. The silence between them was filled only by the quiet gushing sounds coming from manisha's nipple and the faint creak of the house as the others continued with their day.
Sujata, sitting a little farther down the room, rolled her eyes at the scene. “You’re spoiling him, Manisha,” she said without looking up. “He’s never satisfied, he just wants to suck our breasts”
Manisha grinned as she pulled rajus father away from her breast after a few moments. “I swear, he acts like he’s still a child. It’s like he forgets how to eat properly every day.”
With one last reprimanding look at him, Manisha wiped her breast once more with the pallu, wiping away the drops of milk that had dribbled from the corner of his mouth. “Go on, eat your food now. I’ve got enough work to do without feeding you all day.”
But before she could stand, Raju’s father’s hands reached out toward Sujata, his face pleading.
“Sujata,” he called softly. “Just a little more, please.”
Sujata looked at him with exasperation but couldn’t help the corner of her lips turning upward. “You’re unbelievable,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Fine. But after this, you better eat your meal. Or no more milk for you today.”
Without another word, Raju’s father shuffled over to her, and Sujata made space for him next to her. She lifted her blouse with practiced ease, wiped his mouth with the pallu, and guided him to latch on. Her eyes were already focused on the kitchen tasks waiting for her, but there was no denying the maternal comfort she felt as she helped him.
“Not too rough this time, okay?” she warned, flicking her fingers in mock frustration. “I don’t have time to keep pulling you off and on.”
He nodded sheepishly and adjusted his position, but his grip remained tight.
Sujata smiled to herself, but her patience was wearing thin. “ Bhaiya, you’re worse than a baby sometimes,” she muttered, brushing his hair back gently as he drank. “You’re never satisfied.”
Manisha, who had returned to her sweeping, watched the scene with an amused smirk. “Oh, you know it. If we don’t keep him in check, he’d spend all day on our breasts.”
Sujata and Manisha exchanged a brief, knowing look. The teasing and scolding felt almost routine. They had long since ceased being surprised by Raju’s father’s milk cravings.
Finally, Raju’s father pulled away, looking satisfied. Sujata tucked her breasts back in, rolling her eyes as she went to stand. “Alright, go eat your food, and stop being so spoiled.”
As the family resumed their breakfast, Raju’s father now content and eating, the two aunts went back to their chores. The interruptions were natural, woven into the rhythm of their day, with milk always taking precedence. For these women, this was simply life, as familiar and necessary as the air they breathed
Last edited:
Update 7
The night had draped itself over the village, a blanket of quiet that enveloped the little house. The only light in the room flickered softly from a table lamp, casting shadows against the walls. The day’s chores were done, and the evening was settling into its own quiet rhythm.
Raju lay curled up on his bedding in the corner, his breathing steady, the exhaustion of the day catching up with him. The aunts, Manisha and Sujata, were tidying up the bedroom, their movements slow and practiced as they prepared to rest for the night.
It wasn’t long before there was a soft knock at the door.
“Who is it now?” Manisha called, not looking up from the pile of laundry she was folding.
“It’s us, Manisha!” came the familiar voice of Prabha, one of the neighbor women. “We’ve come to visit! Let us in!”
Sujata stood up and moved toward the door. She opened it to reveal Prabha, Gita, and Aarti—all standing with their hands on their hips, wearing expressions of curiosity and mischief.
“Well, well, what brings you three here at this hour?” Sujata asked, an amused tone in her voice.
“Oh, don’t pretend you’re too busy,” Prabha replied, pushing her way into the room. “We know very well you’ve got plenty of time to entertain us, especially with all the talk about you two.”
Manisha smirked as she moved aside to let the women in. “What’s the gossip now? We’ve had enough of your teasing.”
“Teasing? We’re just concerned,” Gita chimed in, settling onto the mat and glancing toward the corner where Raju lay. “We heard Raju is visiting. Also you are feeding Bhaiya again. He needs to be kept off the street, last week he tried to suck Gita's milk while she was sleeping on porch. But you two spoiled him rotten, always rushing to feed him.”
Prabha chuckled. “Oh, we know what’s going on. And don’t even try to tell us otherwise. You both can’t resist getting your breasts sucked.”
Manisha sighed, her hands resting on her hips as she gave Sujata a pointed look. “It’s no secret. He asks, we have to give. Otherwise our husband's get angry. It’s part of the way things work around here. But I’m getting tired of it, to be honest. I can’t keep up with him sometimes.”
Sujata gave a knowing smile. “We’re getting used to it. He’s a grown man, but in many ways, he never outgrew his need for it.”
“Well,” Prabha said with a mischievous gleam in her eye, “what about Raju? Do you think he’s learned enough? We all know he is the new addition to your milk factory. Soon, he’ll be pouncing on breasts just like his father.”
Manisha raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Raju, still peacefully asleep. “Don’t start with me. He’s still our little boy, and if he wants it, he’ll get it.”
“Ah, but maybe not just from you two,” Prabha teased by holding her breasts, “Maybe he’s too grown now for the same set of pairs every night. You’ll need new set of breasts to keep him occupied in this village.”
Just as she finished speaking, a soft voice interrupted the chatter. “It’s not just them, is it?”
The woman turned to see Grandpa, standing at the doorway with a slight frown on his face. His presence, though calm, commanded attention. His weathered hands were folded neatly in front of him, and his old, tired eyes met theirs.
“I’ve been hearing you all gossip,” he said with a wry smile. “But don’t forget about me.”
The room fell into a brief silence as the women stared at him, their expressions a mix of surprise and curiosity.
“Sasurji?” Sujata said, a little taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“I’m still here, aren’t I?” Grandpa’s voice was low but firm, as he took a seat next to Sujata. “I’ve been waiting, you know. You two were so busy with the others, you forgot to take care of me.”
Prabha, Gita, and Aarti exchanged glances, but it was Aarti who spoke up. “But you’ve been fed already today, Grandpa. We all saw you eating your supper”
Grandpa’s smile widened, and he shook his head slowly. “Ah, but you forget, Aarti, I’m a man of habits. I might be old, but my needs haven’t changed. And tonight, I’m not in the mood for any of this food. I need milk, just like my son.”
The women stared at him, momentarily unsure how to respond. Manisha, who had been handling Raju’s father’s needs all day, turned to her sister-in-law, clearly frustrated. “We don’t have much milk left tonight, Sasurji. We’ve been busy.”
“Well, you should’ve planned better,” he said bluntly. “A good daughter in law of mine doesn’t refuse when her father in law needs something.” His voice had an edge to it, but there was no anger—just a familiar, paternal demand.
Manisha and Sujata exchanged another look, and without further protest, Manisha moved to a corner, lifting her blouse and showing her breasts. Grandpa shuffled closer, now fully seated beside her, and as he did so, he shifted so that his head could rest on her lap.
“I’ll let you suck, but don’t fall asleep while sucking,” Manisha muttered, clearly irritated but obedient to his request.
Grandpa let out a soft chuckle as he moved closer, the familiar rhythm of his request settling into the room’s quiet atmosphere. Sujata, who had been watching, leaned back against the wall and resting her arms across her breasts. The visitors, unsure of how to react, exchanged awkward glances.
“You’re quite persistent, Grandpa,” Aarti finally said, breaking the silence. “We thought you’d be past all this.”
Grandpa, fully engaged now in the act, looked up at them with an amused twinkle in his eye. “You girls don’t understand. Once you’ve tasted the benefits of a full stomach—and the comfort of something as simple as milk—you’ll never stop asking for it.”
The women remained silent for a moment, watching the scene unfold, unsure whether to laugh or to simply let the routine pass by. Sujata, who had gotten used to these nightly interruptions, added with a half-smile, “You should all be more like Grandpa. He knows what he wants and gets it.”
The night carried on like that, with Grandpa being fed from breasts while the ladies decided to sneak out quietly.
The night had draped itself over the village, a blanket of quiet that enveloped the little house. The only light in the room flickered softly from a table lamp, casting shadows against the walls. The day’s chores were done, and the evening was settling into its own quiet rhythm.
Raju lay curled up on his bedding in the corner, his breathing steady, the exhaustion of the day catching up with him. The aunts, Manisha and Sujata, were tidying up the bedroom, their movements slow and practiced as they prepared to rest for the night.
It wasn’t long before there was a soft knock at the door.
“Who is it now?” Manisha called, not looking up from the pile of laundry she was folding.
“It’s us, Manisha!” came the familiar voice of Prabha, one of the neighbor women. “We’ve come to visit! Let us in!”
Sujata stood up and moved toward the door. She opened it to reveal Prabha, Gita, and Aarti—all standing with their hands on their hips, wearing expressions of curiosity and mischief.
“Well, well, what brings you three here at this hour?” Sujata asked, an amused tone in her voice.
“Oh, don’t pretend you’re too busy,” Prabha replied, pushing her way into the room. “We know very well you’ve got plenty of time to entertain us, especially with all the talk about you two.”
Manisha smirked as she moved aside to let the women in. “What’s the gossip now? We’ve had enough of your teasing.”
“Teasing? We’re just concerned,” Gita chimed in, settling onto the mat and glancing toward the corner where Raju lay. “We heard Raju is visiting. Also you are feeding Bhaiya again. He needs to be kept off the street, last week he tried to suck Gita's milk while she was sleeping on porch. But you two spoiled him rotten, always rushing to feed him.”
Prabha chuckled. “Oh, we know what’s going on. And don’t even try to tell us otherwise. You both can’t resist getting your breasts sucked.”
Manisha sighed, her hands resting on her hips as she gave Sujata a pointed look. “It’s no secret. He asks, we have to give. Otherwise our husband's get angry. It’s part of the way things work around here. But I’m getting tired of it, to be honest. I can’t keep up with him sometimes.”
Sujata gave a knowing smile. “We’re getting used to it. He’s a grown man, but in many ways, he never outgrew his need for it.”
“Well,” Prabha said with a mischievous gleam in her eye, “what about Raju? Do you think he’s learned enough? We all know he is the new addition to your milk factory. Soon, he’ll be pouncing on breasts just like his father.”
Manisha raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Raju, still peacefully asleep. “Don’t start with me. He’s still our little boy, and if he wants it, he’ll get it.”
“Ah, but maybe not just from you two,” Prabha teased by holding her breasts, “Maybe he’s too grown now for the same set of pairs every night. You’ll need new set of breasts to keep him occupied in this village.”
Just as she finished speaking, a soft voice interrupted the chatter. “It’s not just them, is it?”
The woman turned to see Grandpa, standing at the doorway with a slight frown on his face. His presence, though calm, commanded attention. His weathered hands were folded neatly in front of him, and his old, tired eyes met theirs.
“I’ve been hearing you all gossip,” he said with a wry smile. “But don’t forget about me.”
The room fell into a brief silence as the women stared at him, their expressions a mix of surprise and curiosity.
“Sasurji?” Sujata said, a little taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“I’m still here, aren’t I?” Grandpa’s voice was low but firm, as he took a seat next to Sujata. “I’ve been waiting, you know. You two were so busy with the others, you forgot to take care of me.”
Prabha, Gita, and Aarti exchanged glances, but it was Aarti who spoke up. “But you’ve been fed already today, Grandpa. We all saw you eating your supper”
Grandpa’s smile widened, and he shook his head slowly. “Ah, but you forget, Aarti, I’m a man of habits. I might be old, but my needs haven’t changed. And tonight, I’m not in the mood for any of this food. I need milk, just like my son.”
The women stared at him, momentarily unsure how to respond. Manisha, who had been handling Raju’s father’s needs all day, turned to her sister-in-law, clearly frustrated. “We don’t have much milk left tonight, Sasurji. We’ve been busy.”
“Well, you should’ve planned better,” he said bluntly. “A good daughter in law of mine doesn’t refuse when her father in law needs something.” His voice had an edge to it, but there was no anger—just a familiar, paternal demand.
Manisha and Sujata exchanged another look, and without further protest, Manisha moved to a corner, lifting her blouse and showing her breasts. Grandpa shuffled closer, now fully seated beside her, and as he did so, he shifted so that his head could rest on her lap.
“I’ll let you suck, but don’t fall asleep while sucking,” Manisha muttered, clearly irritated but obedient to his request.
Grandpa let out a soft chuckle as he moved closer, the familiar rhythm of his request settling into the room’s quiet atmosphere. Sujata, who had been watching, leaned back against the wall and resting her arms across her breasts. The visitors, unsure of how to react, exchanged awkward glances.
“You’re quite persistent, Grandpa,” Aarti finally said, breaking the silence. “We thought you’d be past all this.”
Grandpa, fully engaged now in the act, looked up at them with an amused twinkle in his eye. “You girls don’t understand. Once you’ve tasted the benefits of a full stomach—and the comfort of something as simple as milk—you’ll never stop asking for it.”
The women remained silent for a moment, watching the scene unfold, unsure whether to laugh or to simply let the routine pass by. Sujata, who had gotten used to these nightly interruptions, added with a half-smile, “You should all be more like Grandpa. He knows what he wants and gets it.”
The night carried on like that, with Grandpa being fed from breasts while the ladies decided to sneak out quietly.
Last edited:
Update 8
The ladies were gone. Grandpa aslerped in his room. The night had settled over the village, and the air was warm, carrying with
The night had settled over the village, and the air was warm, carrying with it the lingering scent of earth and fields that had been worked all day. Raju lay on his bed, feeling the comfort of the familiar village quiet around him.
Sujata, his aunt, moved around the room in her usual purposeful way, the faint scent of sweat still clinging to her from the day’s work. Her sari rustled as she took care of the final tasks of the evening. She wasn’t one to waste time or energy. Though her body showed the signs of age and hard work, there was a quiet strength in her demeanor.
Manisha, his other aunt, entered the room with a similar presence—tired, but always ready to take care of what needed to be done. The long hours had left their mark, and the faint smell of sweat and earth surrounded her. But as always, her hands moved deftly, adjusting her saree without any hesitation, preparing herself for the next task at hand.
Raju felt a familiar tug of comfort, but also a bit of irritation. His aunts’ practicality was something he hadn’t fully adjusted to yet. They were often a mix of warmth and no-nonsense authority. Sujata, noticing his shift, waved him over with a quick motion of her hand.
"Come here, Raju," Sujata called out in her no-nonsense tone, her voice a mixture of tiredness and care. "It’s time for you to have your milk. You’ve been away too long."
Raju hesitated for a moment, a little embarrassed by the bluntness of the request. It wasn’t unusual for him to feel slightly awkward, but it had become part of the routine here—his aunts were insistent on providing him with this nourishment, despite his age. He moved closer, sitting beside her. Sujata’s hands were already at work, pulling her blouse down, her movements swift and efficient. It was clear this wasn’t a moment of tenderness for her, just another part of the daily work.
"Come on, Raju, don’t be shy," Sujata chided, her voice slightly irritated. "I don’t have all night to babysit you. You want to be strong, don’t you?" She guided him gently but firmly, positioning him against her breast, her fingers pressing lightly on his head to help him latch.
Raju, feeling the warmth of her skin and the faint smell of sweat, settled into position. The smell of the room, the earth, and her natural fragrance filled his senses, grounding him in the moment. But there was no time for hesitation or comfort—Sujata was not one to indulge in sentimentality. Her touch was gentle but firm, her irritation clear as she adjusted him.
"That’s it," she muttered, as she adjusted the latch, her fingers guiding his head just slightly. "No pressing my other breast. Don’t play with my other nipple." Her voice held a sharpness, an underlying frustration that always seemed to follow when it came to these moments.
Despite the irritation in her tone, Raju knew this was her way of showing care. It wasn’t about tenderness or softness; it was about practicality, about ensuring that he was getting the nourishment he needed without delay. The act of feeding, in this quiet, purposeful way, was just another part of their daily routine.
Nearby, Manisha watched the scene unfold, her own irritation simmering under the surface. Sujata had always been the more commanding aunt, the one who took charge without pause. Manisha, though just as practical, didn’t always agree with the way Sujata did things. She couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of the way Sujata handled everything with such ease, as though nothing ever bothered her.
With a huff, Manisha moved over to Raju’s father, who was sitting in the corner, clearly looking for some attention. "You too, I suppose," she muttered, her voice laced with annoyance. "Always hungry, always demanding."
Sujata, noticing Manisha’s mood, smirked. "Go ahead, feed the calf," she teased. "You know how he is."
Manisha didn’t answer right away. She simply sighed, unbuttoning her blouse with a bit more force than necessary. "He’s impossible," she muttered under her breath, sitting on Raju’s fathers lap. Just like Sujata, Manisha had the same firm touch when it came to feeding. She held him with her legs like she is going to choke his stomach, as she opened her bra she let her breasts free to let him choose which breast to suck, without guiding him into position.
"Now, behave," Manisha snapped, more out of habit than anger. "And no humping, no playing with my nipples, you understand?" Her voice was slightly exasperated, but there was a subtle warmth in her words that couldn’t be hidden.
The room, now filled with the quiet sounds of the night, seemed to settle around them as Raju lay against Sujata’s lap, still nursing. The warmth of her body, the soft rise and fall of her chest, and the faint scent of sweat and earth created an odd sense of comfort. There was something about the rhythm of it all—the daily routine, the way the aunts took care of everything with such ease—that felt both familiar and strange.
Sujata’s hand rested on his back, steady and reassuring. She could feel the tension leave him, his body relaxing as he drank. She had soften her tone. "You’d better be full soon. I have to give time to your uncle today," she said with an edge to her voice, though there was no malice in it.
Manisha, finishing up with Raju’s father, stood up with a quiet sigh. "Some people never change," she muttered. "Always demanding more than they deserve."
Sujata chuckled softly. "That’s what family is for, isn’t it?"
The ladies were gone. Grandpa aslerped in his room. The night had settled over the village, and the air was warm, carrying with
The night had settled over the village, and the air was warm, carrying with it the lingering scent of earth and fields that had been worked all day. Raju lay on his bed, feeling the comfort of the familiar village quiet around him.
Sujata, his aunt, moved around the room in her usual purposeful way, the faint scent of sweat still clinging to her from the day’s work. Her sari rustled as she took care of the final tasks of the evening. She wasn’t one to waste time or energy. Though her body showed the signs of age and hard work, there was a quiet strength in her demeanor.
Manisha, his other aunt, entered the room with a similar presence—tired, but always ready to take care of what needed to be done. The long hours had left their mark, and the faint smell of sweat and earth surrounded her. But as always, her hands moved deftly, adjusting her saree without any hesitation, preparing herself for the next task at hand.
Raju felt a familiar tug of comfort, but also a bit of irritation. His aunts’ practicality was something he hadn’t fully adjusted to yet. They were often a mix of warmth and no-nonsense authority. Sujata, noticing his shift, waved him over with a quick motion of her hand.
"Come here, Raju," Sujata called out in her no-nonsense tone, her voice a mixture of tiredness and care. "It’s time for you to have your milk. You’ve been away too long."
Raju hesitated for a moment, a little embarrassed by the bluntness of the request. It wasn’t unusual for him to feel slightly awkward, but it had become part of the routine here—his aunts were insistent on providing him with this nourishment, despite his age. He moved closer, sitting beside her. Sujata’s hands were already at work, pulling her blouse down, her movements swift and efficient. It was clear this wasn’t a moment of tenderness for her, just another part of the daily work.
"Come on, Raju, don’t be shy," Sujata chided, her voice slightly irritated. "I don’t have all night to babysit you. You want to be strong, don’t you?" She guided him gently but firmly, positioning him against her breast, her fingers pressing lightly on his head to help him latch.
Raju, feeling the warmth of her skin and the faint smell of sweat, settled into position. The smell of the room, the earth, and her natural fragrance filled his senses, grounding him in the moment. But there was no time for hesitation or comfort—Sujata was not one to indulge in sentimentality. Her touch was gentle but firm, her irritation clear as she adjusted him.
"That’s it," she muttered, as she adjusted the latch, her fingers guiding his head just slightly. "No pressing my other breast. Don’t play with my other nipple." Her voice held a sharpness, an underlying frustration that always seemed to follow when it came to these moments.
Despite the irritation in her tone, Raju knew this was her way of showing care. It wasn’t about tenderness or softness; it was about practicality, about ensuring that he was getting the nourishment he needed without delay. The act of feeding, in this quiet, purposeful way, was just another part of their daily routine.
Nearby, Manisha watched the scene unfold, her own irritation simmering under the surface. Sujata had always been the more commanding aunt, the one who took charge without pause. Manisha, though just as practical, didn’t always agree with the way Sujata did things. She couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of the way Sujata handled everything with such ease, as though nothing ever bothered her.
With a huff, Manisha moved over to Raju’s father, who was sitting in the corner, clearly looking for some attention. "You too, I suppose," she muttered, her voice laced with annoyance. "Always hungry, always demanding."
Sujata, noticing Manisha’s mood, smirked. "Go ahead, feed the calf," she teased. "You know how he is."
Manisha didn’t answer right away. She simply sighed, unbuttoning her blouse with a bit more force than necessary. "He’s impossible," she muttered under her breath, sitting on Raju’s fathers lap. Just like Sujata, Manisha had the same firm touch when it came to feeding. She held him with her legs like she is going to choke his stomach, as she opened her bra she let her breasts free to let him choose which breast to suck, without guiding him into position.
"Now, behave," Manisha snapped, more out of habit than anger. "And no humping, no playing with my nipples, you understand?" Her voice was slightly exasperated, but there was a subtle warmth in her words that couldn’t be hidden.
The room, now filled with the quiet sounds of the night, seemed to settle around them as Raju lay against Sujata’s lap, still nursing. The warmth of her body, the soft rise and fall of her chest, and the faint scent of sweat and earth created an odd sense of comfort. There was something about the rhythm of it all—the daily routine, the way the aunts took care of everything with such ease—that felt both familiar and strange.
Sujata’s hand rested on his back, steady and reassuring. She could feel the tension leave him, his body relaxing as he drank. She had soften her tone. "You’d better be full soon. I have to give time to your uncle today," she said with an edge to her voice, though there was no malice in it.
Manisha, finishing up with Raju’s father, stood up with a quiet sigh. "Some people never change," she muttered. "Always demanding more than they deserve."
Sujata chuckled softly. "That’s what family is for, isn’t it?"
Last edited:
Update 9
The next few days Raju adjusted to the eccentric life of paternal family. His uncle sumit informed him he will have to travel with his Aunts, Grandpa and ather to nearby village for his cousins marriage. He complied and made arrangements. On Saturday they were to travel to his cousins place. In afternoon they reached the station and srmtarted their journey.
The train rattled on, its rhythmic clatter a steady backdrop as the family tried to settle into their cramped compartment. The women, Sujata and Manisha, sat cross-legged on the lower berth, their backs leaning against the steel wall, while Dadaji grumbled about the bumpy ride. Raju sat on the floor, fidgeting, his eyes darting between the women as they adjusted their pallus to ensure some modesty in the bustling train.
On next station their compartment was empty leaving only few passengers.
Dadaji was restless. He shifted uncomfortably, his gaze flitting between Sujata and Manisha with a look that anyone in the family would recognize. “How much longer?” he muttered, rubbing his knees.
Sujata rolled her eyes. “What now, Baba?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.
“I haven’t had anything since we left,” he said, tilting his head dramatically toward her shoulder.
Manisha, sitting nearby, let out a sharp laugh. “You’re worse than a toddler, Baba. Can’t you hold on for a while?”
Dadaji shook his head firmly. “Do I look like I can wait?” His voice dropped to a whisper, though the urgency in his tone was clear.
Sujata sighed. “Fine. Come here,” she said, patting her lap with a mixture of affection and annoyance. Dadaji wasted no time, lowering himself carefully until his head rested comfortably on her thighs. Sujata opened her sari by pulling the pallu up and over his head to create a makeshift cover.
With ease, she slipped her fingers under the fabric of her blouse and unhooked the lower buttons, exposing her right breast. She gave her nipple a quick glance, checking the readiness of her flow, then leaned down slightly, positioning herself so Dadaji could latch easily.
“Gentle,” she warned, placing her fingers lightly on his jaw to guide him closer. The first pull made her wince slightly. “I said *gentle*, Baba. Are you trying to eat me alive?”
Dadaji grunted something in protest, his voice muffled against her skin. His lips worked steadily, but Sujata could feel the occasional tug that came when he lost his rhythm. She tapped his ear lightly. “Stop pulling like that. You’re not a calf,” she muttered, though there was a softness in her tone that hinted at years of familiarity with his habits.
Manisha smirked from the opposite side of the berth. “Sujata, you’re too patient with him. If it were me, I’d have flicked his jaw by now.”
“Oh, don’t tempt me,” Sujata shot back, shifting slightly to ease the ache in her back. “He’s better than my husband who wants to eat my breasts if he does not get milk while fucking me.”
Dadaji pulled away briefly, his expression indignant. “I’m nothing like my son,” he said, though his tone was playful. “Besides, your flow is always slower than Manisha’s. I’m working harder, that’s all.”
Sujata froze, her jaw tightening. “Excuse me? Are you comparing me to her now?”
Manisha nearly choked on her water. “Oh, Baba, you’re brave,” she said, shaking her head in amusement.
Dadaji shrugged. “It’s the truth. Manisha’s flow is easier. Her’s comes faster. Yours takes forever to get going.”
Sujata narrowed her eyes, her hand instinctively flicking Dadaji’s ear. “If mine is so slow, why don’t you go to her next time?”
“I might just do that,” he teased, though the smirk on his face faded as Sujata inserted her fingers in dadaji's mouth, making the latch momentarily difficult for him.
“Which young women let an oldie like you near her breasts,” she said curtly. “I don’t have time for your nonsense.”
As Dadaji resumed nursing, Sujata adjusted her grip, cupping her breast firmly and pressing gently at the base to encourage a smoother flow. She could feel the warmth radiating from his face against her skin, mixed with the faint dampness of sweat from the humid train compartment. Her fingers moved instinctively, massaging around the nipple to maintain a steady rhythm.
Meanwhile, Manisha sighed dramatically and turned to Raju’s father, who had been watching the scene with growing impatience.
“Don’t even think about it,” she said sharply. “I’m not feeding you until we get to the next station. Can’t you wait like a normal person?”
Raju’s father groaned, rubbing his stomach. “I haven’t eaten all day,” he complained. “I’ll pass out if you don’t give me something.”
Manisha threw up her hands. “Fine, but don’t make me regret it.” She shifted slightly, making room for him to sit beside her. As he leaned in, she unhooked her blouse with a flick of her fingers, then guided him closer, her palm cradling the back of his head.
“Don’t start playing with my breasts,” she warned, her voice clipped. “And no biting. If you do, I’ll throw you out of the train.”
Raju’s father latched on hesitantly, his movements clumsy at first. Manisha winced and adjusted her position, holding his head firmly to maintain control. “I swear, you’re worse than Baba,” she muttered, glancing over at Sujata. “At least Baba knows, how to treat his sons wives.”
Sujata smirked, though she didn’t look up. “Careful what you wish for. He’s not exactly easy to deal with either.”
The door to the compartment slid open suddenly, and an elderly woman peered in, her eyes narrowing at the scene.
“Isn’t he a bit old for that?” she asked, nodding toward Raju’s father, who immediately pulled away, his face flushed.
Manisha stiffened but quickly composed herself. “He’s just sleeping,” she said smoothly, adjusting her pallu to cover herself.
The woman’s gaze shifted to Dadaji, whose head was still buried in Sujata’s lap. “And him?”
Sujata didn’t miss a beat. “He’s tired. We’ve had a long journey, and he needs rest.”
The woman frowned but said nothing more, closing the door behind her as she left.
As soon as she was gone, Sujata flicked Dadaji’s ear again for good measure. “You almost got us in trouble.”
Dadaji chuckled, his voice muffled. “Worth it.”
Manisha shook her head, muttering, “I can’t believe this is our life.”
The next few days Raju adjusted to the eccentric life of paternal family. His uncle sumit informed him he will have to travel with his Aunts, Grandpa and ather to nearby village for his cousins marriage. He complied and made arrangements. On Saturday they were to travel to his cousins place. In afternoon they reached the station and srmtarted their journey.
The train rattled on, its rhythmic clatter a steady backdrop as the family tried to settle into their cramped compartment. The women, Sujata and Manisha, sat cross-legged on the lower berth, their backs leaning against the steel wall, while Dadaji grumbled about the bumpy ride. Raju sat on the floor, fidgeting, his eyes darting between the women as they adjusted their pallus to ensure some modesty in the bustling train.
On next station their compartment was empty leaving only few passengers.
Dadaji was restless. He shifted uncomfortably, his gaze flitting between Sujata and Manisha with a look that anyone in the family would recognize. “How much longer?” he muttered, rubbing his knees.
Sujata rolled her eyes. “What now, Baba?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.
“I haven’t had anything since we left,” he said, tilting his head dramatically toward her shoulder.
Manisha, sitting nearby, let out a sharp laugh. “You’re worse than a toddler, Baba. Can’t you hold on for a while?”
Dadaji shook his head firmly. “Do I look like I can wait?” His voice dropped to a whisper, though the urgency in his tone was clear.
Sujata sighed. “Fine. Come here,” she said, patting her lap with a mixture of affection and annoyance. Dadaji wasted no time, lowering himself carefully until his head rested comfortably on her thighs. Sujata opened her sari by pulling the pallu up and over his head to create a makeshift cover.
With ease, she slipped her fingers under the fabric of her blouse and unhooked the lower buttons, exposing her right breast. She gave her nipple a quick glance, checking the readiness of her flow, then leaned down slightly, positioning herself so Dadaji could latch easily.
“Gentle,” she warned, placing her fingers lightly on his jaw to guide him closer. The first pull made her wince slightly. “I said *gentle*, Baba. Are you trying to eat me alive?”
Dadaji grunted something in protest, his voice muffled against her skin. His lips worked steadily, but Sujata could feel the occasional tug that came when he lost his rhythm. She tapped his ear lightly. “Stop pulling like that. You’re not a calf,” she muttered, though there was a softness in her tone that hinted at years of familiarity with his habits.
Manisha smirked from the opposite side of the berth. “Sujata, you’re too patient with him. If it were me, I’d have flicked his jaw by now.”
“Oh, don’t tempt me,” Sujata shot back, shifting slightly to ease the ache in her back. “He’s better than my husband who wants to eat my breasts if he does not get milk while fucking me.”
Dadaji pulled away briefly, his expression indignant. “I’m nothing like my son,” he said, though his tone was playful. “Besides, your flow is always slower than Manisha’s. I’m working harder, that’s all.”
Sujata froze, her jaw tightening. “Excuse me? Are you comparing me to her now?”
Manisha nearly choked on her water. “Oh, Baba, you’re brave,” she said, shaking her head in amusement.
Dadaji shrugged. “It’s the truth. Manisha’s flow is easier. Her’s comes faster. Yours takes forever to get going.”
Sujata narrowed her eyes, her hand instinctively flicking Dadaji’s ear. “If mine is so slow, why don’t you go to her next time?”
“I might just do that,” he teased, though the smirk on his face faded as Sujata inserted her fingers in dadaji's mouth, making the latch momentarily difficult for him.
“Which young women let an oldie like you near her breasts,” she said curtly. “I don’t have time for your nonsense.”
As Dadaji resumed nursing, Sujata adjusted her grip, cupping her breast firmly and pressing gently at the base to encourage a smoother flow. She could feel the warmth radiating from his face against her skin, mixed with the faint dampness of sweat from the humid train compartment. Her fingers moved instinctively, massaging around the nipple to maintain a steady rhythm.
Meanwhile, Manisha sighed dramatically and turned to Raju’s father, who had been watching the scene with growing impatience.
“Don’t even think about it,” she said sharply. “I’m not feeding you until we get to the next station. Can’t you wait like a normal person?”
Raju’s father groaned, rubbing his stomach. “I haven’t eaten all day,” he complained. “I’ll pass out if you don’t give me something.”
Manisha threw up her hands. “Fine, but don’t make me regret it.” She shifted slightly, making room for him to sit beside her. As he leaned in, she unhooked her blouse with a flick of her fingers, then guided him closer, her palm cradling the back of his head.
“Don’t start playing with my breasts,” she warned, her voice clipped. “And no biting. If you do, I’ll throw you out of the train.”
Raju’s father latched on hesitantly, his movements clumsy at first. Manisha winced and adjusted her position, holding his head firmly to maintain control. “I swear, you’re worse than Baba,” she muttered, glancing over at Sujata. “At least Baba knows, how to treat his sons wives.”
Sujata smirked, though she didn’t look up. “Careful what you wish for. He’s not exactly easy to deal with either.”
The door to the compartment slid open suddenly, and an elderly woman peered in, her eyes narrowing at the scene.
“Isn’t he a bit old for that?” she asked, nodding toward Raju’s father, who immediately pulled away, his face flushed.
Manisha stiffened but quickly composed herself. “He’s just sleeping,” she said smoothly, adjusting her pallu to cover herself.
The woman’s gaze shifted to Dadaji, whose head was still buried in Sujata’s lap. “And him?”
Sujata didn’t miss a beat. “He’s tired. We’ve had a long journey, and he needs rest.”
The woman frowned but said nothing more, closing the door behind her as she left.
As soon as she was gone, Sujata flicked Dadaji’s ear again for good measure. “You almost got us in trouble.”
Dadaji chuckled, his voice muffled. “Worth it.”
Manisha shook her head, muttering, “I can’t believe this is our life.”