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Shalini aunty ne mujhe apne studio ke canvas ke peeche choda

6 min readHindi Sex Stories

Brush meri kalaai se neela tapka chhodne hi wala tha jab Shalini aunty ne meri kalaai pakad li. Unki ungliyan chipchipi thin, rang se bhari, aur unki pakad itni sakht thi ke brush wapas meri mutthi mein aa gaya.

“Yahan mat girao,” unhone dheemi awaaz mein kaha. “Yeh lakdi purani hai. Neela rang chipak jayega.”

Ahmedabad ki is colony mein Sunday ki dopahar bhari rehti hai. India ke kai shehron ki tarah yahan bhi garmi chhat se utar kar kamron ke andar baith jati hai, aur is chhote studio mein pankha tez ghuma ja raha tha.

Class khatam ho chuki thi. Teen students apne bags lekar nikal chuke the. Main palettes dho raha tha kyunki unhone kaha tha ke rang sukhne se pehle bartan saaf ho. Yeh unka ghar tha, unka studio, aur main unka padosi tha. Khoon ka koi rishta nahi, sirf woh aunty jise colony izzat se bulaati thi.

Unki aankhen meri kalaai par thin. Phir unhone haath chhoda, lekin itna tez nahi ki main samajh na paun.

Brush ke neeche dabi hui baat

Maine kone ki taraf dekha. Doosre sab ke canvases ek dusre ke peeche saje the. Sirf mera canvas easel par khada tha, adha peela aasman, jaise kisi ne jaan-boojh kar use beech mein rok diya ho.

“Aapne meri painting kyun nahi uthayi, aunty?”

Shalini aunty ne cotton ke kurte ki patti theek ki. Chair par unki teaching wali saree pehle se fold padi thi. Woh faisla subah ka tha, class se pehle ka, mere aane se pehle ka.

“Subah hi soch liya tha,” unhone kaha. “Aaj tum rukoge. Baaki logon ko maine jaldi bhej diya.”

Unki awaaz mein koi sharm nahi thi, sirf ek seedhi baat. Main unse chhota tha, lagbhag unke bete jitna umar ka, lekin bete jaisa nahi. Yeh baat dono jaante the.

Bharat ke is garm shehar mein dopahar ke do baj chuke the. Bahar koi scooter guzra, phir khamoshi. Studio ki khidki aadhi khuli thi, curtain hil raha tha.

Unka kurta patla tha. Neela rang unki collarbone ke paas bhi laga tha. Maine socha tha main sirf brushes dho kar nikal jaunga, lekin unka pehle wala faisla kamre mein khada tha, easel ki tarah.

“Aunty,” maine kaha, aur yeh lafz munh mein bhari ho gaya. Unhone sar hilaya, jaise lafz suna ho aur usko rakhna ho.

Woh kareeb aayin. Unki thighs kurte ke neeche hilin. “Agar tum nahi chahte to abhi chale jao. Main kisi ko rokti nahi.”

Maine unka haath apne gale par rakh diya. “Main yahin hoon.” Unki ungliyan meri gardan par thandi thin, rang ke kaaran chipak rahi thin.

Jo unhone subah hi chun liya

Kurte ka pehla button unhone khud khola, dheere, jaise palette saaf karti hain. Neeche naram kapda tha, uske neeche unki chhatiya uth rahi thin. Main unki kamar tak gaya, aur uski kamar meri hatheli ke neeche garmi se bhari hui thi.

“Aaj naam mat badalna,” unhone kaha. “Jo hoon, wahi kaho.”

“Aunty.” Lafz is baar kalaai jaisa tha, pakda hua. Unki aankhen band hui, phir khulin. Unke baal garm hawa mein maathe par chipak rahe the.

Maine kurta upar kiya. Unki chuchiya bhari thin, geeli nahi, sirf garmi se tight. Munh lagaate hi unki lambi saans meri baalon par padi. Pankha upar se kaat raha tha, lekin unki skin garam thi.

Jeans ki zip meri apni ungliyon se atki. Unhone has diya, chhota sa. “Rang se haath kharab ho gaya hai tumhara.” Phir unhone khud zip kholi, aur mera lund unki mutthi mein aa gaya, already sakht, already unke faisle ka hissa.

Table ke kinare canvas ke peeche jagah thi, jahan palettes rakhte the. Unhone wahan kamar tikayi. Petticoat sa saara neeche ka kapda unhone khud sarka diya. Unki chut geeli thi, ungli se pehle hi, jaise subah wala sochna sirf baat nahi tha.

“Dekho mat soch ke,” unhone kaha. “Jo karna hai, karo.”

Maine do ungliyan andar ki. Unki chut ne daba liya. Unka haath mere kandhe par kasa. Brush stand hil gaya, ek dry brush gir kar floor par laga, lekin koi nahi aaya.

Munh unki gardan par tha, daant nahi, sirf honth. Woh aunty wali izzat aur yeh nangi kamar ek hi saans mein chal rahe the. Main unki thighs ke beech khada raha, mera lund unki geeli skin par ragadta, andar nahi, abhi nahi, jaise unka pehle wala faisla bhi dheere khul raha ho.

“Ab,” unhone kaha, aur yeh ek shabd tha, lamba nahi.

Andar jaate hi unki awaaz ruk gayi. Unki chut garam thi, tight, aur meri kalaai ab bhi neeli thi, unki kamar par neela nishan chhodti. Har dhakka table ko wall se takrata. Canvas hilta, peela aasman kadam kadam par kaanta.

“Aunty,” maine phir kaha, is baar saans ke beech. Unhone mere baal pakde, kheenche nahi, sirf rakhe. Unki saans meri kaan ke paas toot rahi thi.

Tez nahi kiya pehle. Unki chuchiya meri chhati se ragad rahi thin. Kurta unke kandhon par atka hua tha, poora utra nahi. Main us kapde ko wahi rehne diya. Unka chehra upar tha, aankhen band, munh khula, jaise rang pees rahi hon.

Phir unhone khud kamar aage ki. Gehra. Mera lund unki chut ke andar tak gaya, aur unki ungliyan meri peeth par rang ke daag de gayin. Table ki lakdi cheekhi. Maine unki ek taang uthayi, unki thigh meri kalaai par bhaari padi.

“Yahan… yahi,” unhone kaha. Lafz toot kar bhi saaf tha.

Main unhe canvas ke peeche dabaaye rakha. Unki gaand table ki edge se takrati, unki chut bar bar nigalti. Neela rang ab unki kamar par bhi tha, meri kalaai se utra hua. Yeh tasveer nahi thi, sirf chipakna tha.

Unki awaaz badhli. Pehle dabi, phir khuli. Maine unki chut ke upar wale hisse par ungli rakhi, gol. Unka sharir ek baar kasa, phir doosri baar. Unki saans meri gardan par geeli ho gayi.

“Mat nikalna,” unhone kaha. Yeh hukm nahi tha, maang thi.

Main andar hi raha jab unki chut dabne lagi, tarah tarah se, jaise brush ke strokes. Unki aankhen khuli, mujhe dekha, phir band. Unke baal maathe par chipke. Main tez hua, chhote dhakke, table ki taktaki ke saath.

Apna lund unki geeli chut mein hi chhod diya, andar, garmi ke saath. Unki ungliyan meri kamar par rukin. Dono ki saansein phooli hui thi. Pankha wahi ghumta raha, jaise kuch hua hi na ho.

Kuch der tak koi nahi hila. Unka kurta ek kandhe se latka. Mera jeans ghutnon par atka. Canvas ab bhi peela tha, lekin neeche ke kone par naya daag tha, hamare kapdon se nahi, hamari skin se.

Canvas deewar ki taraf

Unhone pehle meri kalaai dekhi, phir apni kamar. Neela nishan dono jagah tha. Hansi nahi aayi. Sirf dekhna aaya.

“Yeh class wali cheez nahi hai,” unhone kaha. Awaaz wapas seedhi thi, jaise palette ke baare mein baat ho.

Maine jeans uthayi, zip lagayi, lekin t-shirt haath mein hi rahi. Unhone kurta seedha kiya, button nahi lagaye. Chair wali fold ki hui saree wahi padi rahi, jaise subah ka faisla ab bhi kapde ki shakal mein khada ho.

Easel ke paas ja kar unhone geela canvas dono hathon se uthaya. Peela aasman palatne se pehle ek pal rukin, mere adhure stroke ko dekha, us kone ke daag ko bhi.

Phir dheere se use deewar ki taraf palat diya. Ab koi chehra nahi, koi aasman nahi, sirf kapde ki peeth.

“Ab yeh chehra bahar nahi dekhega,” unhone kaha.

Maine t-shirt nahi pehni. Unki aankhen meri neeli kalaai par thin, phir band easel par. Studio ki khidki se Ahmedabad ki dopahar aa rahi thi, garmi ke saath, aur unka haath canvas ki lakdi par hi raha, jaise yahi unka ab ka faisla ho.

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