Forbidden Rain: My Aunt’s Secret Summer

I’m in my third year of college. My name is Arjun.

That summer, far from the noise of the city, in the quiet of my uncle’s village home, a secret chapter of my life began - one I have never shared with anyone until now. This is the story of me and my aunt Riya. A relationship that started with curiosity and grew into something deeper: desire, tenderness, and a kind of love that felt both wrong and inevitable.

We were both adults. I was twenty-one. She was thirty-four. My uncle was often away in the city on business. Their only daughter worked in the city as well. Most of the time, the large village house belonged to Riya alone.

Two days before the summer break, my friends had bought an adult magazine. The pages were full of explicit photographs and stories. A few of those story pages had fallen to my share. Reading about forbidden affairs, the detailed descriptions of a woman’s body, the heat of secret encounters- something inside me had already begun to burn. When the holidays arrived, I decided to go to my uncle’s house. Work was going on at my own home, so I went alone.

The house stood in a prosperous village, surrounded by nearly seventy bighas of land. There was a solid concrete house, an older mud house beside it, and a cowshed a little farther away within the same boundary. Riya was striking- tall, full-figured, with heavy breasts and rounded hips that the soft fall of a sari could never quite hide. Her eyes were deep and dark; her smile carried a quiet mischief.

The first two days passed normally. On the third evening, while unpacking my bag, those magazine pages slipped out. There was almost no mobile network in the village, so at night I sat alone and read the stories again. The descriptions of full breasts, soft pink folds, the act of tasting, the rhythm of hard thrusting- my body responded helplessly. Just then Riya returned from her bath. Her wet sari clung to her. The shape of her breasts was clear; the dark tips pressed against the damp cloth. I could not look away.

“What is it, Arjun? Why are you staring like that?” she asked with a soft laugh.

“Nothing, Auntie,” I muttered, lowering my head. But my mind was already full of her.

The next afternoon a sudden storm rose. The sky turned black and lightning flashed. My uncle was in the city and would not return that night. Riya hurried to the cowshed to secure the cattle. I followed with a torch. Heavy rain began almost at once, and we were trapped inside the cowshed. Darkness, only the thin beam of the torch, and the roar of the rain.

She looked uncomfortable. I needed to relieve myself and did so in a corner. She could not hold back much longer either.

“Arjun, hold the torch for a moment. Let me check if there are insects on the ground.”

I switched on the light. What I saw stopped my breath. She had gathered her sari and petticoat and was squatting, a golden stream flowing from between her thighs. Thick soft lips parted; the inner flesh was a delicate pink. Everything was clear in the torchlight. She startled but could not rise at once.

When she finished and stood, she looked away in embarrassment. My courage, however, had grown.

“Auntie… why don’t you have something long like men do?”

She tried to laugh it off at first, but my insistence wore her down. “Promise you won’t tell anyone,” she said. Back in the house she locked the door, lifted her sari, and lay back with her legs open. In the torchlight I saw her fully- soft, full outer lips, the pink inner folds. She parted the hair herself and held herself open for me.

I could not stop. I reached out and touched her with one finger. She shivered.

“Arjun… this isn’t right…”

Yet there was no real resistance in her voice - only a kind of surrender. I slid my finger inside and moved it slowly. Her breathing grew heavy. “Ahh… slowly… oh…” She grew wet around my finger. After a while she came with a soft, broken cry, her release spilling over my hand.

My cock was painfully hard. She opened my pants, took me in her warm hand, and stroked. I cupped her heavy breasts through the blouse. “Take it off,” I whispered.

She did. Two full, soft breasts spilled free, dark nipples already tight. I lowered my mouth to them and sucked. She held my head and trembled. “Harder… yes… like that…”

That night we made love for the first time. She lay back and opened her legs. I guided myself into her slowly. She was hot and tight, gripping me. “Deeper, Arjun…” I began to thrust. The wet sound of our bodies filled the room along with her soft moans. “Fuck me… fuck your aunt… harder…”

I sucked her breasts while I drove into her. She came twice before I finally spilled deep inside her. Afterwards we lay tangled together. I stroked her hair.

“You’re so beautiful,” I whispered.

She rested her head on my chest. “You are too… but this has to stay secret.”

The days that followed became a fever. Whenever my uncle was away we found each other. One morning in the kitchen I came up behind her, lifted her sari, and entered her while she stood at the stove. She braced herself and pushed back against me. “You’re fucking me while I cook… don’t stop…”

I held her hips and thrust harder. Her soft backside pressed against my stomach. “You’re so warm inside,” I murmured against her ear. She turned her head and kissed me, open-mouthed and hungry. “Only for you,” she breathed.

Another rainy afternoon in the cowshed I bent her over and took her from behind, gripping her full cheeks. She cried out with every thrust. “Break me open… your cock feels so good…”

The sound of rain mixed with the wet slap of our bodies. I gathered her hair in one fist and pulled gently as I fucked her. She was on her knees, shaking. “Arjun… I love you… deeper…”

One evening she taught me how to taste her. She lifted her sari and sat over my face. I licked the soft swollen lips, pushed my tongue inside, and drank the wetness that flowed from her. She held my hair and rocked. “Suck me… take all of it…” Afterwards she took me in her mouth, deep and slow, until I came across her tongue. She swallowed and smiled. “Sweeter than any candy.”

On the nights my uncle was gone we slept naked. She never wore a nightgown. I touched her constantly- breasts, between her legs, the soft curve of her ass. One night we used oil. I pressed slowly into her tighter entrance. At first it hurt her, but she did not stop me. “It burns… but don’t stop… fuck me there too…”

I moved carefully at first, then deeper. She touched herself while I took her. “I’m yours… only yours…”

Our connection grew beyond the physical. She would say, “You give me more pleasure than my husband ever has.” I would answer against her skin, “Your body is everything to me.”

One afternoon while my uncle was at the market I laid her on the bed, lifted her legs over my shoulders, and buried myself deep. Her nails scored my back. “Arjun… I can’t let you go… fill me…”

I looked into her eyes as I moved. Love and raw need mixed there. “I love you too,” I said, and kissed her. Our tongues met. We came together, her body tightening around me as I poured into her.

Another morning while she made tea I stepped behind her, found her bare under the sari, and slid inside. She laughed softly even as she pushed back. “The tea will burn… but don’t you dare stop.” I reached into her blouse and rolled her tight nipples between my fingers. “Your breasts are so soft,” I whispered. She turned and kissed me. “Only soft for you.”

Near the middle of the holiday another storm arrived. We locked the doors. I was cupping her breasts and talking quietly when she suddenly said, “Your uncle gave me a piece of candy this morning. I gave it to the neighbour’s child.”

I smiled. “Why? I would have eaten it.”

She laughed, then lifted her sari. “Then let me give you something better.” She guided my mouth between her legs. “Taste me. Show me how you suck candy.”

I parted the soft hair and licked her open. She pressed my head closer. “Harder… yes…” When she came, the sweet wetness filled my mouth. I swallowed and rose to kiss her. The taste of her lingered between us.

That night we made love until dawn- her on top riding me, me behind her, side by side. Every time she moaned my name. “Arjun… Arjun… fill me…”

At the end we came together again. Her body clenched around me as I spilled deep. Afterwards we lay quiet, skin damp, hearts still racing. I kissed her forehead.

“I have to leave soon,” I said. “But I’ll come back.”

She rested her head on my chest. “Come back. I’ll be waiting.”

College continued, but every holiday I returned to that village house. Riya was always there. Our secret- forbidden, intense, and strangely tender- still lives between us. No one else knows. Only the two of us know how completely we lose ourselves in each other’s bodies, and how deeply we have come to love one another.

And every time I enter her, every time she whispers my name and trembles, every time we fall asleep tangled together, I feel that this forbidden love may be the most beautiful chapter of our lives.