I even felt movement in my lower regions and I knew that wasn’t good or even allowed. But there was no way for me to tell her to stop doing that. I couldn’t come out and say to her that she should cover herself up because I was starting to get excited by her. I didn’t know why she didn’t realize for herself that it wasn’t appropriate for her to show that much of herself to me. I just figured that our relationship was secure enough that she didn’t need to worry about me getting excited. I actually felt guilty for having such feelings after seeing her. It became a routine for me to every morning help her with her bra. She would go to her room. Take her shirt off while facing away from me and towards her bed. The bra was always on her Bed, which she would put on her breasts and extend the straps to back where I would reach over and hook it up.
Simple and quick, but always significant. One day she went to her room and took her shirt off as usual. I realized very quickly that something was different when I found myself looking at her reflection in the mirror. Her breasts were completely visible to my eyes, which popped out of their sockets at that incredible sight. It turned out that she had left her bra on her dresser and out of habit she took her shirt off in front of the mirror where I could see her topless. She realized her mistake quickly and covered her breasts with her hands while screaming slightly, “Hai maan!” oh mother! As her eyes looked into my face and found me so flabbergasted, she said, “Turn around quickly, I don’t want you to see me like this.” I mechanically turned while trying to memorize that view and imprint it on my brain. I didn’t want to forget it.
That was my first time seeing a woman’s breasts so completely and so closely. They were even better than I had ever imagined them to be. My aunt’s breasts were big and round and supple and beautiful. Her nipples were big and strong and pointy. Her flesh looked delicious. Try as I might not to, I became erect nonetheless. When she called me back towards her again, I found her red and flushed. I was flushed myself. When our eyes met through the mirror, we looked away from each other quickly. They met a few times though. She really looked embarrassed, as did I. But nothing was said other than the looks of embarrassment. As I was leaving, she said, “You won’t tell anyone about what happened, would you?” Her question caught me by surprise. “Who am I going to tell?”I looked at her to see if she would say more, but she didn’t and after a brief pause, I just left.
My eyes kept seeing those breasts all day long. She came to my room after lunch. It took her a while before she spoke. She said, “I feel so ashamed for what happened this morning?”I thought about an answer for a few moments; then replied softly, “There is nothing to be ashamed of. It was an accident.””Yes, it was.” She smiled weakly. “I promise it won’t happen again.”That would be a pity, I thought to myself. I would have liked to see those breasts again. I said nothing though. It seemed like she waited expectedly to hear something from me. When nothing came, she said, “You didn’t feel too uncomfortable, I hope.” “I did, at first, but when I realized that it was a fluke thing, I got over it.””Well, I am sorry about that.”Again I said nothing and she left after waiting for a while for me to say something. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say, so I had stayed quiet.
Things were a bit tense and quiet the next time we performed our routine. I felt bad because I think she felt bad but there was nothing I could say or do to make her feel better. I wanted to make her feel better though because I think she was making a big deal out of an accident. But how, that was the question. Then it came to me. So far we had done what we were doing, that is hooking her up, in absolute silence. There was never any conversation between us other than thank you from her. I usually followed her and did what I was supposed to do and then left without saying anything. I knew that I had to break the silence or she may stop asking me for help. The Subject came without much searching. Next time I was hooking her up, I made a remark as casually as Possible, “Auntie, you seem to prefer read a lot?”That was the first time I acknowledged the fact that I had paid attention to what I was doing. She replied, “I don’t know why, but I like red. It makes me feel different.”We actually had a conversation about her underwear.
I wanted to know if she had matching panties on, but I didn’t express my thoughts. I think she was relieved at my breaking the silence, so she asked me quickly, fearing that the silence may creep back in, and “What color do you think I should try?””I don’t know. I hear a lot of good things about black.” >From silence to saying mouthful, we had made a huge progress. Later on, as I reflected on our conversation, I couldn’t believe I had suggested that my aunt should wear black underwear. It was a bit intimate for us to discuss something as personal as undergarments, panties and bras to be specific, but we had done it. I guess after dealing with her bra for so long, it was only a slight jump to discussing it. In our culture though, that was a big jump. Next day, sure enough, her bra was black.
The fact that she had worn it after my suggestion, when in the past her bras were normally red or white, was a significant thing and I had to say something. “I see you are wearing black today.” Was all I could come up with? “Well, you suggested it. So, how does it look?” She asked boldly as she gave me a view of both front and back.”It looks better than red.” Was all I could come up with, again? She smiled and I felt that a huge wall had been lifted from between us. A wall that not only consisted of the silence and formality that we usually had, but of something else as well, of another barrier. As I was leaving, she said, “I know I am going to feel very embarrassed and even ashamed later, but look.”I turned to look and she had pulled her shalwar down a little to expose her panty. It was a matching panty. I just laughed. She laughed with me. I tell you, I felt hard all day long. There was an erection between my legs that just wouldn’t go away.
I kept thinking of my aunt, of her bra, of her panties, even of her naked breasts as I had the privilege of seeing them once, even though accidentally. I felt special because she took my advice and choose a color that I had suggested. I imagined her thinking of me when she bought those and that made me feel excited. My aunt was thinking of me when she was buying her underwear. Imagine that, my aunt buying underwear because of me, dare I say, for me. She came to my room that afternoon. There was nothing she talked about, only fiddled with my books a little. Then she left quickly. I understood that her presence was the result of that special intimacy that we had shared. She just wanted to be around me, as I wanted her to be around. I felt good. Next morning, I asked her, “So, what did uncle say about your new color?” There was a faint but naughty smile on my lips. She beamed when she answered, “Oh, I didn’t show it to him.” There was more she almost blurted out but she stopped herself there. Deep down, I felt the power. She didn’t want to show to my uncle what was Between the two of us. I realized the special bond that had been created between us.
That bond only became clearer when she came to my room the next afternoon as well. We had become friends, I felt. Having a female friend felt different, in a good sort of way. A few days later, she told me, “I have a surprise for you.”When I went to her room and finished hooking her up, she turned around and put her hands on her hips. “What do you think?” she asked. I looked at her with amazement on my face. She was wearing a black lace bra. I could see her nipples through the lace, even though they were barely visible because the color of her nipples was dark enough to blend in with the lace. I was speechless. She smiled almost victoriously. She said, “I guess the look on your face says everything.”I stuttered, “Sorry, I don’t know what to say. It looks great.” The next day, she showed me a red lace bra. It was equally revealing, but still the color of her nipples sort of blended with the dark red color. Same look on my face, that must have become a familiar thing for her, and same victorious smile.
I think she was enjoying herself; or rather she was enjoying the teasing she was doing with me. Then came a white lace bra. Her nipples were very visible that day. Even the rest of her breast was showing through the white lace. The contrast was so strong that I could make out all the details of her breast through that and she was proudly displaying them for me. She must have seen that look of arousal on my face. “So, how do I look?” Her question was a bit more direct. “You look great?” I replied.”It’s not too much, is it? I feel I am showing too much.””Well, yes, you are. But, this is only for you, so it doesn’t matter. No one is going to see anything.” I was finally able to get a hold of myself.”Thanks Raj. But are you okay with it? I mean, you also get to see it besides me.””Yes, I am okay. How does uncle feel about it?” I don’t know why I said that but the thought was in my mind.”I have a secret for you. I don’t show this even to your uncle.” “Why not?” I said without thinking.”This is our secret, that’s why.”
She said a lot in that statement but I didn’t feel the weight of it until much later. That afternoon, she came to my room. She seemed a bit down and rather subdued. I asked her, “Are you okay? You don’t look okay.”She replied, “I have a slight headache.””Why? What gave you that headache?”Thinking too hard, I guess. I’ve been worried all day about your reaction to my being so daring.””Actually, I didn’t think much about it. We have become comfortable enough with each other that it didn’t seem out of place.””It didn’t.” She was serious.”Not at all.” I looked into her eyes to convince her of my sincerity. “Well, I am relieved.” She did not seem relieved. Next morning, she was again wearing that white, lace bra. When I finished hooking it up, she turned to face me and asked, once again, “Are you sure, you are okay with it?” She was very serious, and I couldn’t understand why. “Yes, I am.” I said forcefully. “Don’t worry.””I won’t.” She whispered. As I was about to exit the door, she called me, “Raj!”I turned to see what she wanted. When I looked at her, I couldn’t believe my eyes. She was standing in front of me without her bra. Her breasts were fully exposed for me to see. I stood there with my mouth agape. She asked, “How about now? Are you okay with this as well?” A thousand and one emotions went through my system in milliseconds. My dick went from 0 to 90 degrees in a snap. She must have heard that snap as it hit the cloth and stretched it out.