Secrets of the Chowdhury Family – Part 1
Couple
Submit Report Characters: 1. Smt. Promila Chowdhury: Protima’s widowed mother (now married to Kenaram), 55 years old, retired teacher and social activist 2. Protima Chowdhury: Singer and dancer, 35 years old, Promila’s daughter 3. Palash Chowdhury: Protima’s husband, businessman, 38 years old 4. Poly Chowdhury: Protima’s daughter, student, 21 years old 5. Pobitro: Protima’s son, student, 19 years old 6. Ajmira Begum: Nurse, widow, 33 years old 7. Aslam Khan: Ajmira’s father, widower, 55 years old, partner of Jaspal’s photography business 8. Karim (Abdul) Khan: Ajmira’s son, student, 18 years old 9. Gurpreet Kaur: Headmistress, 38 years old, Ajmira’s friend 10. Jaspal Singh: Gurpreet’s husband, 40 years old, photographer and producer 11. Malti (Kamini) Soren: 38 years old, Ajmira’s Adivasi widowed maid 12. Birju Soren: Malti’s son, 19 years old, driver for Jaspal and Gurpreet 13. Kenaram Soren: Kamini’s widowed father, security guard at an ashram, 55 years old — Glossary of Bengali Terms – Jamai: Son-in-law – Bouma: Son’s wife – Sasurima: Wife’s/husband’s mother – Sasurmosai: Wife’s/husband’s father – Mamoni: Mummy – Bapi: Daddy – Didi: Elder sister – Dida: Grandmother – Dadu: Grandfather – Anchal: The loose end of a saree draped over the shoulder – Saree: A traditional garment, approximately 18 feet × 4 feet – Saya: Pettticoat – Salwar-Kameez: Traditional women’s attire consisting of loose trousers and a tunic – Dupatta: A thin scarf (approximately 3 feet × 7 feet) worn over the kameez – Tape-frock: A loose, sleeveless mini dress reaching mid-thigh – Lungi: A loose, skirt-like garment worn by men – Sindoor: Vermilion worn in the hair by married women – Sinthi: The parting line in the hair where sindoor is applied – Ashram: A hermitage or spiritual retreat – Sadhu: A holy man or saint — This is a sequel to “Sweet Family.” The incidents take place just after Promila’s marriage, when she is seven months pregnant. It depicts her love, affection, and compassion for others -irrespective of age, caste, or status – which helps her family members and relatives forge stronger bonds with one another. — Kenaram Soren was ecstatic; his joy knew no bounds upon learning he was going to officially become a father at his age when his wife, Promila, announced her pregnancy. He told his wife that this wonderful news should be shared with her daughter first. But Promila replied that her daughter was already aware of her pregnancy. She even mentioned that both her son-in-law and daughter had accepted the truth gladly. However, before their marriage, as a true lover, Promila had not felt shy about disclosing to her new husband, Kenaram, that her son-in-law was the real father of her baby. Kenaram had accepted this shocking truth with great interest, even promising to raise the baby as their own. On the other hand, after her second marriage to the Adivasi security guard, Palash could not stand the sight of his Adivasi stepfather-in-law, Kenaram, knowing that he now had access to her sexy pregnant body. When Promila was seven months pregnant, Kenaram was transferred to another branch of the ashram. He informed his stepdaughter, Protima, that he would be away for a month or two and requested her to look after her pregnant mother. So Protima sent her husband, Palash, immediately to bring her mother back with him. He arrived soon at his stepfather-in-law’s house. That evening, his mother-in-law went with him to Howrah Station with a heavy heart to bid her husband goodbye. They hugged with tearful eyes. As soon as the train left the station, they returned to the parking lot together, holding hands like a real husband and wife. Half an hour later, when they reached home, they headed straight for her room. Palash longed to see his pregnant mother-in-law naked again, as he had been unable to fuck her for the last two months due to excessive work pressure. He watched as she took off her clothes and stood facing him. Her belly had grown bigger since the last time they made love. Her breasts were now fuller and perkier, and those incredible nipples looked darker and more pronounced. He once again felt pangs of jealousy, knowing that his stepfather-in-law was the one who could enjoy her wonderful pregnant body anytime he wished. He looked at her and said, caressing her swollen belly, “Maa, if you don’t mind, how often does Kenaram… sorry, my stepfather-in-law, fuck you?” Promila could see the jealousy in her son-in-law’s eyes, and the crude question made her cringe. She answered with a grin, “He didn’t miss a single moment. He becomes as horny as you whenever he looks at my swollen pregnant belly.” “Does he suck your lactating tits?” His eyes glittered as he quickly lowered his head to lick her hard nipples. Happiness welled up in her heart as she assessed her situation. At present, she was Kenaram’s wife. She loved him like a devoted Bengali wife, and so now Palash had no right to know their personal matters. It was unfair of him to cross-examine her with intimate questions about her new husband. After all, they were the ones who had committed adultery — not her new husband. Palash knew he had been a jerk. Instead of loving and caring for his mother-in-law, he was accusing her with miserable, self-consuming possessiveness. He came to her and held her in his arms lovingly. “Please, Maa, don’t mind. I’m so sorry. I’m a jealous person. I never meant to hurt you,” he apologized, kissing her forehead. “I love you so much. It will never happen again.” After that, he kissed her lips, and their passion took over immediately. His tongue was in her mouth. He tenderly caressed her swollen nipples and squeezed them lightly, feeling wetness in them. It was her milk. He put his finger into his mouth, tasting her precious gift.
He then lowered his mouth and started sucking her nipples one by one like a baby, draining all the milk from her lactating breasts. Afterwards, he took off his clothes. Naked — a stud son-in-law and his respected mother-in-law climbed onto her marital bed, the bed she had started sharing with her second husband since her second Fulsajjha (a bed decorated with flowers where a bride makes love with her husband for the first time). He rubbed and kissed her extended belly. He looked at her — her nude body, her full milk-filled breasts, her bulging tummy — and it drove him wild with intense desire. Their lovemaking after two months of yearning was passionate and fulfilling. In her pregnant state, he took her in the spoon position to avoid hurting their baby, fucking her with frenzied passion before finally flooding her with his hot semen. Afterwards, they lay languidly, lost in their own world. Lying beside her, Palash sighed, “Maa, now I can only be the ‘Jamaibabu’ to our child instead of his real father, but I promise you, I’ll be the best Jamaibabu in the world.” “I know, darling,” she whispered. His bittersweet pronouncement brought tears to her eyes. “Don’t weep, my precious Sasurima,” he said, kissing away her teardrops. “I know you will,” she said softly. “I love you so much, Palash.” “Daddy is here,” he said with a wink, kissing her pregnant, swollen belly. He caressed it, smiling at her and giving her the assurance that he would always be there for her and their baby. Even in that poignant moment, his penis had grown hard again. He turned her onto her side and moved down to face her shapely bottom. He kissed the soft hillocks of her buttocks; she smelled so fresh and clean. He spread open the alabaster flesh and licked her inner thighs. His heartbeat quickened when he watched her tiny, crinkled anus palpitate sporadically. So far, he hadn’t touched her there. He wondered whether anyone had taken his pleasure in that brownish opening. Bracing himself for her reaction, his tongue licked lightly against that taboo place. Promila’s body jerked at the contact. She cringed as shivers ran up her spine while he kissed and tongued her asshole. She had heard about anal sex but had never imagined performing the act. The sensitive nerve endings of her tiny opening sent waves of unfamiliar pleasure as her son-in-law kept licking her. She lifted her leg wider to give him better access. “Oh Palash… my Sona Jamai,” she moaned as he tried to insert his tongue into that tight opening. He stopped and raised himself, moving up her body. “Did you like that, sweetheart?” he asked, his mouth against her ear. She felt ashamed of her reaction. “Don’t be shy, Maa,” he said tenderly, and she nodded her head. “Have you been fucked there before?” he asked. She shook her head in reply. “I will make it good for you, Maa. I will never hurt you,” he assured her. Her son-in-law was going to take her anally. How could she take his huge penis inside her rectum? She had felt so full when he was in her vagina. She trusted him and knew he would never hurt her intentionally. It was her ultimate offering to him — her virgin orifice. She couldn’t imagine how she would take him there; the thought sent shivers through her body. He got off the bed, and within seconds, he returned with a tube of lotion from the bathroom. He kneeled behind her in no time. He poured a generous amount onto his palm and smeared the lotion onto her dark hole, rubbing it into her soft flesh. He massaged the cleft between her buttocks, and she felt his finger rubbing against her anal opening. “Just relax, Maa, and don’t push down,” he assured her. He tried to insert his glistening finger, and it entered her tight backdoor slowly. He gently pushed an inch inside her and pulled out again, repeatedly moving slowly to allow her to get used to the insertion. He probed deeper until the entire length of his finger was inside her. “Is it painful, Maa?” he asked. “Nooooooo… ohhhhh…” she gasped, and he inserted a second finger. She tried to relax. Her anal opening widened. He poured more lotion inside her orifice as he finger-fucked her asshole with two fingers. “I’m going to fuck you now. Just relax, and it will be okay,” he assured her again. His words sounded so obscene, and she braced herself to be deflowered. He rubbed the blunt head of his throbbing phallus with excessive lotion. He knew it would be painful for her initially, but he was insatiable with pent-up desire to fuck her virgin hole. His pre-cum had oozed out in anticipation. It seemed almost impossible to enter her. Her anal opening was so small compared to his size. “Just relax, darling,” he cooed as he exerted more pressure. His renowned social activist and pregnant mother-in-law was gasping for breath when he pushed against her backdoor. She grasped the pillow tightly. Her anal muscle gave way involuntarily, and he penetrated her, the head lodging inside her rectum. Her tightness was excruciating for him as he held her, allowing her to come to terms with his size. She had bent her knees up to her belly as sweat broke out from the sudden, sharp pain. — Promila Chowdhury Soren was now a gorgeous seven-months-pregnant woman with a body that always screamed, “Come, fuck me.” She knew exactly what she had, and Protima later discovered that her mother enjoyed sharing herself with others. Even after her marriage to Kenaram, she hadn’t missed a chance to lie with her son-in-law Palash, who had actually impregnated her. However, her grandson Pobitro, too, couldn’t take his eyes off his grandmother’s pregnant, swollen belly after his father brought her back to their house to look after her during Kenadadu’s absence. He had always been attracted to his grandmother since childhood, when he had spent most of his nights in her huge, soft bosom, cuddling in her arms.
Before her second marriage to Kenadadu, when she had started staying with them after his grandfather’s death, he never missed a chance to glance at her deep cleavage and swaying ass. He had even masturbated often while sniffing her dirty panties. And now, his attraction had reached its peak upon noticing her swollen pregnant belly and her large milk-filled tits, which were about to burst from her tight sleeveless blouse. — “We have an earlier train than usual, so we have to leave in an hour,” Protima said one fine morning — two days after her mother’s arrival — while serving breakfast, a few days before the Durga Puja festival. With that, she poured some cereal into the bowl in front of her son as her words sank in. “So where are you two heading this time?” Pobitro asked, trying to shake off his feelings as he put a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “You know your mother has packed programs during Durga Puja every year. This year is no exception — first to Bardhaman, then Baharampur, followed by Bolpur, and we’ll end in Darjeeling,” his father informed him, looking up from his newspaper while sipping a cup of coffee. His mother was associated with a famous musical and dance troupe called “JHANKAR,” which provided live outdoor and indoor musical and dance entertainment. For that purpose, they often had to spend numerous days outside Kolkata, and his father accompanied her. “Okay,” he acknowledged before downing another spoonful of cereal. She was once again contracted to attend multiple functions arranged by different clubs and had to participate actively. So they explained that to their children and Promila. It meant that during the Puja vacation, they would hardly see their parents and would have to spend most of their time at their Khan Dadu’s house, where he lived with his widowed daughter, Ajmira, and his grandson, Abdul. The Khan house was nearly half the size of the Chowdhurys’, with three bedrooms, one kitchen, and a common bathroom. However, a large garden in front of it with a long pathway no doubt enhanced its beauty. They would have to spend at least a week there. Khan Dadu, Ajmira aunty, and occasionally Malti-Masi would be there, as both Poly and Pobitro preferred to play in their large garden with Abdul, alias Karim. All in all, they could end up having a nice time while their parents were away. The drive took just ten minutes, and Pobitro was eagerly looking forward to seeing them all. Despite the sour taste of the cereal left in his mouth, he glanced over at his pregnant grandmother, who shared an affectionate look with her beaming eyes. To be continued…