Gladiator010
Newbie
Festival Night
As a boy I would wait for temple festivals to commence each year. Temples in the village would host at least one major festival lasting a few days to a week, mostly during the summer months. Starting with various rituals, continuing through the day and finishing off with cultural programs in the wee hours the next morning. Those days were enjoyable for boys like me as it provided a chance to roam around the village with little or no restrictions day and night.As for young lovers these festivals were opportune moments to find some time with their beloved.
________________________________
It was still dark as I walked back home at four in the morning after the previous night’s festivities. The little battery powered torch illuminated the walking path through the banana groove. With more than one an hour for the house to wake up,I was in no hurry as I had enough time to slip into the house and be in bed before anyone realised that I had been outdoors the entire night.
The household I was raised in was a typical ‘ Ancestral Home ‘ or ‘ Tharavad’ as known in Kerala. Built in the centre of a fifteen acre property it was quite a big building which could accommodate a few dozen people without a fuss. Built with mud, earth and terracotta roof tiles the barn (rather the cowshed) was located at a small distance from the household in the centre of a banana groove. The barn was relatively large and used to be home for a dozen cows and their calves. By the time I was in high school the barn had only 2 cows and one calf left. Most of the place was empty and portions of it were used for storing hay for the cows and firewood.
As I neared the cow shed which was a few hundred meters away from the house within the compound wall ,I started to hear voices- hushed and muffled voices of a man and a woman .
Walking closer I could hear soft giggles and suppressed voices of a man and woman. I switched off the torch as I got nearer to the shed and in the yellow bulb light I realised that the female voice belonged to Leela ,our domestic help and Male voice belonged to the lean lungi clad topless man, Velappan, our milker. Velu as he was known in the village was a professional milker for many families who owned cattle in and around the village.
Leela was a voluptuous woman in her late thirties.Unlike other servants in the Leela was relatively new in the house , she had been employed with us for about four months then. She formed an impressive figure with her curvy long legs , big bosoms and a perky round rear and jet black hair. She was hired to help our ageing cook, she also took care of the cows. I knew little about Leela’s family, but I knew that she hailed from the hilly eastern districts, was married and had at least one teenage son who used to come to collect money from her at the beginning of every month. Leela was dressed for the festival too- in a white saree having red borders and her hair was adorned with jasmine flowers. Leela was giggling ,laughing and flirting with Velappan whose hand was already under her red blouse which was partially open; he was slowly kneading her nipples and groping the rich fullness of her bosoms.
The thought struck me like lightning- I was witnessing something which I had only read about. My feet went cold and my throat dry and I slipped behind the banana plants. One half of my brain urged me to flee, but curiosity held me back.
The bulb provided enough light and I could clearly see as Velu pushed the woman against the mud wall and freed her breasts. Her breasts were big with large dark brown areola and her nipples were dark brown and appeared beautifully swollen. Leela continued to laugh playfully as she leaned against the wall letting the man play with her teats. Their conversation was not clear but I could clear see her eyes roll up as Velu mouthed her nipples.
Couching behind the foliage I was scared to breathe, weary of the fact that I was spying on something forbidden. Under my shorts I was slowly becoming aware of my shamelessly throbbing erection which was happening against my desires.
Leela’s giggles were replaced by subtle moans as the man groped and kissed the lower part of her abdomen. My heart was beating like a drum as the man pushed Leela onto the cylindrical bales of hay which were stacked in a corner and began to kiss her. As the man continued the foreplay Leela pulled off his lungi ( loin cloth) in one tug.
Modern underwear was already popular and most widely used during those times - but under his lungi I realised Velu wore only a piece of loincloth which was supported by the thick string which was tied around his waistline. It was a self designed, white coloured thong like version of Langoti’ which left the man’s buttocks bare. The bales of hay made a perfect cot for the couple. The man threw himself on top of the female and began to shower her with a volley of kisses.
Cows and their calves tethered to the posts were largely oblivious to what was happening and kept staring at the humans in a nonchalant manner but my situation was different. I was embarrassed and my moral compass kept urging me to run. It was the overwhelming curiosity and the shamelessly throb in my pants which forced me to stay put.
In the yellow light I saw Leela writhing with pleasure under the elderly man’s slender but strong body. Years of physical labor was evident on the man- his muscles well developed and steely, his thighs had no fat whatsoever, only pure muscle and bone and contrastingly much darker compared to that of Leela’s wheatish born luscious feminine thighs, which were visible because her white sari was partially unwrapped and the underskirt hiked. I tried to look away as Leela freed the man’s charcoal black organ from the langotti. I was embarrassed to the core, I was seeing a man’s organ for the first time and Velu’s semi hard organ and its bulbous head reminded me of the tongue or clapper of a big brass bell.
He got back on his feet and stood in front of Leela letting her see his manhood for a moment after which he lifted Leela’s legs and parted her thighs. His digits went exploring her bushes and then disappeared between her thighs . I could hear Leela’s muffled groans as the man pressed his thumbs against her protruding hood.
Seeing a woman’s sex for the first time is memorable experience for any boy. Illuminated by the yellow light I saw Leela’s dark hairy sex which the man held open momentarily. He fumbled with a small tin can which was lying on the haystack, he opened the lid with a smile and scooped up a generous amount of butter and smeared it on the woman’s entrance. Butter was always used to lubricate the udder of the cows before milking, I realised butter apparently had other uses too.
Leela held her legs high and thighs parted as the man pushed himself into her buttery moist hole. I gripped my groin in uncontrollable pleasure as the man and began to hammer himself into the woman . I could hear clapping sounds as the man’s testicles slammed against Leela’s rear. The pounding continued unabated for sometime until the woman clutched her breast and bleated like an animal and climaxed. In a final burst of speed and vigor Velu pumped harder ,groaned and released himself into the woman. After which he collapsed onto her and everything went eerily silent. I leaked shamefully in silence.
It was Velu who recovered first and got dressed while Leela was still sprawled on the hay with her thighs parted, basking in the glory of the climax . The man pulled on his lungi and reminded her with a smile that it will be daylight soon and left quietly after giving a pat on Leela’s cheek.
I watched from my hiding place as Leela recovered ,stood up and using her saree wiped her sex which was a wet, white and a frothy mess. She smiled at herself , buttoned her blouse and pulled the saree draping it around lazily, Before walking towards Servant’s quarters in the house she threw a bale of hay for the cows who continued to stare at her as nonchalant and detached as ever. Jasmine flowers which adorned Leela’s hair now lay scattered all over the bales of hay.
_______________________________
Epilogue:
Leela continued to work in the household for a few more years. After retirement she now lives with her daughter back in her hometown. Even though Leela remained employed in the house for several years I never spoke about it to her, or for that matter anyone.
Velu left the village for better prospects a few years later - With a reduced amount of cows in houses, Freelance Milking I would say is a dying profession at least in my village.
My ancestral home and the barn never withstood the test of time and now exists only in my memory.
Temple festivals continue to be celebrated year over year with verve !!
As a boy I would wait for temple festivals to commence each year. Temples in the village would host at least one major festival lasting a few days to a week, mostly during the summer months. Starting with various rituals, continuing through the day and finishing off with cultural programs in the wee hours the next morning. Those days were enjoyable for boys like me as it provided a chance to roam around the village with little or no restrictions day and night.As for young lovers these festivals were opportune moments to find some time with their beloved.
________________________________
It was still dark as I walked back home at four in the morning after the previous night’s festivities. The little battery powered torch illuminated the walking path through the banana groove. With more than one an hour for the house to wake up,I was in no hurry as I had enough time to slip into the house and be in bed before anyone realised that I had been outdoors the entire night.
The household I was raised in was a typical ‘ Ancestral Home ‘ or ‘ Tharavad’ as known in Kerala. Built in the centre of a fifteen acre property it was quite a big building which could accommodate a few dozen people without a fuss. Built with mud, earth and terracotta roof tiles the barn (rather the cowshed) was located at a small distance from the household in the centre of a banana groove. The barn was relatively large and used to be home for a dozen cows and their calves. By the time I was in high school the barn had only 2 cows and one calf left. Most of the place was empty and portions of it were used for storing hay for the cows and firewood.
As I neared the cow shed which was a few hundred meters away from the house within the compound wall ,I started to hear voices- hushed and muffled voices of a man and a woman .
Walking closer I could hear soft giggles and suppressed voices of a man and woman. I switched off the torch as I got nearer to the shed and in the yellow bulb light I realised that the female voice belonged to Leela ,our domestic help and Male voice belonged to the lean lungi clad topless man, Velappan, our milker. Velu as he was known in the village was a professional milker for many families who owned cattle in and around the village.
Leela was a voluptuous woman in her late thirties.Unlike other servants in the Leela was relatively new in the house , she had been employed with us for about four months then. She formed an impressive figure with her curvy long legs , big bosoms and a perky round rear and jet black hair. She was hired to help our ageing cook, she also took care of the cows. I knew little about Leela’s family, but I knew that she hailed from the hilly eastern districts, was married and had at least one teenage son who used to come to collect money from her at the beginning of every month. Leela was dressed for the festival too- in a white saree having red borders and her hair was adorned with jasmine flowers. Leela was giggling ,laughing and flirting with Velappan whose hand was already under her red blouse which was partially open; he was slowly kneading her nipples and groping the rich fullness of her bosoms.
The thought struck me like lightning- I was witnessing something which I had only read about. My feet went cold and my throat dry and I slipped behind the banana plants. One half of my brain urged me to flee, but curiosity held me back.
The bulb provided enough light and I could clearly see as Velu pushed the woman against the mud wall and freed her breasts. Her breasts were big with large dark brown areola and her nipples were dark brown and appeared beautifully swollen. Leela continued to laugh playfully as she leaned against the wall letting the man play with her teats. Their conversation was not clear but I could clear see her eyes roll up as Velu mouthed her nipples.
Couching behind the foliage I was scared to breathe, weary of the fact that I was spying on something forbidden. Under my shorts I was slowly becoming aware of my shamelessly throbbing erection which was happening against my desires.
Leela’s giggles were replaced by subtle moans as the man groped and kissed the lower part of her abdomen. My heart was beating like a drum as the man pushed Leela onto the cylindrical bales of hay which were stacked in a corner and began to kiss her. As the man continued the foreplay Leela pulled off his lungi ( loin cloth) in one tug.
Modern underwear was already popular and most widely used during those times - but under his lungi I realised Velu wore only a piece of loincloth which was supported by the thick string which was tied around his waistline. It was a self designed, white coloured thong like version of Langoti’ which left the man’s buttocks bare. The bales of hay made a perfect cot for the couple. The man threw himself on top of the female and began to shower her with a volley of kisses.
Cows and their calves tethered to the posts were largely oblivious to what was happening and kept staring at the humans in a nonchalant manner but my situation was different. I was embarrassed and my moral compass kept urging me to run. It was the overwhelming curiosity and the shamelessly throb in my pants which forced me to stay put.
In the yellow light I saw Leela writhing with pleasure under the elderly man’s slender but strong body. Years of physical labor was evident on the man- his muscles well developed and steely, his thighs had no fat whatsoever, only pure muscle and bone and contrastingly much darker compared to that of Leela’s wheatish born luscious feminine thighs, which were visible because her white sari was partially unwrapped and the underskirt hiked. I tried to look away as Leela freed the man’s charcoal black organ from the langotti. I was embarrassed to the core, I was seeing a man’s organ for the first time and Velu’s semi hard organ and its bulbous head reminded me of the tongue or clapper of a big brass bell.
He got back on his feet and stood in front of Leela letting her see his manhood for a moment after which he lifted Leela’s legs and parted her thighs. His digits went exploring her bushes and then disappeared between her thighs . I could hear Leela’s muffled groans as the man pressed his thumbs against her protruding hood.
Seeing a woman’s sex for the first time is memorable experience for any boy. Illuminated by the yellow light I saw Leela’s dark hairy sex which the man held open momentarily. He fumbled with a small tin can which was lying on the haystack, he opened the lid with a smile and scooped up a generous amount of butter and smeared it on the woman’s entrance. Butter was always used to lubricate the udder of the cows before milking, I realised butter apparently had other uses too.
Leela held her legs high and thighs parted as the man pushed himself into her buttery moist hole. I gripped my groin in uncontrollable pleasure as the man and began to hammer himself into the woman . I could hear clapping sounds as the man’s testicles slammed against Leela’s rear. The pounding continued unabated for sometime until the woman clutched her breast and bleated like an animal and climaxed. In a final burst of speed and vigor Velu pumped harder ,groaned and released himself into the woman. After which he collapsed onto her and everything went eerily silent. I leaked shamefully in silence.
It was Velu who recovered first and got dressed while Leela was still sprawled on the hay with her thighs parted, basking in the glory of the climax . The man pulled on his lungi and reminded her with a smile that it will be daylight soon and left quietly after giving a pat on Leela’s cheek.
I watched from my hiding place as Leela recovered ,stood up and using her saree wiped her sex which was a wet, white and a frothy mess. She smiled at herself , buttoned her blouse and pulled the saree draping it around lazily, Before walking towards Servant’s quarters in the house she threw a bale of hay for the cows who continued to stare at her as nonchalant and detached as ever. Jasmine flowers which adorned Leela’s hair now lay scattered all over the bales of hay.
_______________________________
Epilogue:
Leela continued to work in the household for a few more years. After retirement she now lives with her daughter back in her hometown. Even though Leela remained employed in the house for several years I never spoke about it to her, or for that matter anyone.
Velu left the village for better prospects a few years later - With a reduced amount of cows in houses, Freelance Milking I would say is a dying profession at least in my village.
My ancestral home and the barn never withstood the test of time and now exists only in my memory.
Temple festivals continue to be celebrated year over year with verve !!
