Excited and titillated, I nodded in the affirmative. She smiled at me, her eyes filled with a tender, hungry gaze that sent shivers down my spine. She gathered my hair at the base of my nape into a loose ponytail held by the clutch of her hand, the silky strands slipping through her fingers as she tugged gently. She kissed me again, and this time again, our tongues intertwined, and I liked the way she was sucking it.

She was holding my hair at the base of my nape as if it were a leash of some kind; she then led me to the bed, her hand firmly guiding me by the hair.

The sight of her bare skin, her breasts heaving with each breath, sent a rush of excitement through my body. I nodded, unable to find the words to express my feelings.

As I sat down on the edge of the bed, she guided my face closer to her chest; her nipples were erect and seemed to be begging for attention. I tentatively wrapped my lips around one, feeling it harden under my lips, and she let out a soft moan of pleasure.

My eyes flutter closed as I begin to suckle on Neelima Auntie’s offered nipple, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure through me as well.

Her hand caressed the back of my neck, urging me to continue as her other hand roamed over my bare back. The feeling of her skin against mine was electric, and I could not help but arch into her touch.

Her fingers traced down my spine, and I gasped at the sensation, my hips moving slightly. Aunt’s hand then moves down to the juncture of my thighs, her touch feather-light as she explores the sensitive flesh there.

She seemed to whisper gibberish out of pleasure, and I felt a warmth spread through me, a wetness growing between my legs as she delicately continued to touch and excite me.

She seems to know what she was doing.

I moaned against her skin, my tongue swirling around her nipple as I gave in to the sensation, our bodies moving in a silent dance of desire.

Aunt Neelima whispered, "After a long time, I felt like a woman... You are the one to make me feel like that. Now I want to meet you and want to make you a woman too... I hope you are okay with it."

As I succumbed to Aunty's intimate touch, a rush of newfound emotions and sensations coursed through me. The gentle strokes of her hand against my inner thighs were driving me wild, and I could not help but press my body closer, silently begging for more. 

Auntie responded eagerly, her own breathing becoming heavier as she felt the wetness growing between my legs. She made me lie down spread-eagled and gently pushed my legs apart; her thumb found the sensitive bud at the apex of my folds.

With a gentle, knowing touch, she began to massage it in slow circles, watching my reaction.

My eyes widened in reaction, and I bit my lip, trying to muffle the sounds of pleasure escaping my mouth. The room felt smaller, the air thick with the scent of arousal as we continued to explore each other's bodies, the line between familial affection and passionate desire blurring more with every passing moment.

Neelima Auntie’s touch becomes more insistent as she feels my body respond. She could see as my eyes glazed over with passion, and it only fueled her own desire.

She moves her hand up to cup my cheek, turning her face to kiss me deeply again, her other hand still working magic between my legs. My breath hitched in my throat, and I clutched at Auntie's waist; my nails were digging into the soft flesh as waves of pleasure washed over her.

Auntie smiled into the kiss, her thumb now rubbing in a firm, steady rhythm on my clit. She could feel my body tense and knew that I was close to climax.

The moment stretched out, the tension palpable in the air, our hearts beating in time with each other's as we remained locked in their intimate embrace.

The sound of their breathing mingled with the faint slickness of Auntie's hand on my skin, creating a symphony of desire that echoes through the quiet room.

Finally, within a short while, Aunt Neelima inserted her fingers into my vagina again and masturbated.

I had my first exploding orgasm, transforming me into a woman.

As I came down from the peak of pleasure, I felt a new sense of belonging and understanding with Aunt Neelima. My cheeks were flushed, my chest heaving with the aftermath of my climax, and her eyes were filled with a warmth that was not there before.

She gently kissed my forehead, her hand still resting on my sex, the stickiness of our shared passion a silent testament to what had just transpired.

We both remained in a silent embrace, the room still filled with the scent of herbs and the faint sound of the village waking up outside.

Neelima Auntie’s fingers were stained with my blood, a result of my hymen tearing...

The early morning light filtered through the windows, casting a soft glow across our intertwined forms. The moment was one of quiet revelation, a shared secret that had brought us closer than ever before.

Aunt Neelima whispered, "You truly are a beautiful blossom, Myra."

Her words resonated deep within me, and I could not help but feel a sense of pride and acceptance.

As I lay there, I wondered what other secrets this village held and what other experiences awaited me on this journey of self-discovery and sensual awakening.

***

Aunt Neelima had only given me a saree to wear. She specifically told me not to wear any blouse, petticoat, or undergarments. And she had lovingly and meticulously combed my hair and tied it back at the back of my neck into a dangling, immaculate hair bun.

When I ask Aunt Neelima, "Why is it that I have to wear a saree only?"

Aunty said, "It is customary for young women to wear sarees only in this village. Remember you are a village lassie now."

I stood before the mirror, admiring how the soft fabric of the saree clung to the curves of my body, leaving little to the imagination. The absence of any undergarments felt strange yet liberating, the cool fabric brushing against my bare skin as I moved.

The way Aunty Neelima had dressed me, with my hair in a bun and not a single piece of clothing underneath the elegant drape, made me feel both vulnerable and powerful.

I wondered about the significance of this custom and what it meant for the lassies of Paankpada. As we both got prepared for the day ahead, I could not help but feel a new sense of kinship with the village's inhabitants.

To be continued