My Aunt Vasuki

“Beta Omkarrrr…..” Mum’s shrill voice came through the closed doors of my room and penetrated even the headphones I was wearing interrupting my concentration on the game I was playing on my phone.

“Yes Maaaaa…..” I called back in an annoyed tone.

“Come out and look who is here.” She yelled back.

“Guys I gotta drop out. Looks like we have some guests here.” I half heartedly informed my PUBG teammates through the headphone and quickly left my room to see who had arrived and was greeted with a pleasant surpise.

My Aunt Vasuki was seated on the living room sofa with my Dad, surrounded by a bunch of suitcases. She appeared distressed, as if she had been crying, but as soon as she saw me, she put on a smile, which illuminated her beautiful face, and hastily stood up.

“Omkar Beta. You have grown up so much since I last you. You are becoming handsome young man now.” She complemented me.

I instantly perked up, my previous annoyance about my game being interrupted vanishing upon seeing her. Of all the relatives I had, Vasuki Aunty was one of my favorites. She was my Dad’s younger sister, in her mid-thirties. What I always liked about her was her attractiveness combined with her kind and gentle personality. She was unlike some of my other loud and gossipy aunts.

“Vasuki Aunty, long time no see,” I greeted her warmly. “When did you arrive?” I inquired.

“Just a few minutes ago beta.”

“Om, Vasuki will be staying with us in our home for a while. Please take her suitcases to your room. She will be sharing your room while she is here,” Dad informed me.

Vasuki Aunty was going to stay with us? I had no clue why, but the prospect of sharing the room with her filled me with excitement. I eagerly followed Dad’s instructions and brought her belongings to my room. We lived in a small two-bedroom apartment, with my parents occupying one bedroom and me the other. So, whenever we had guests staying over, they would share my bedroom.

After the initial excitement waned, questions began to fill my mind. Why did Vasuki Aunty look so sad? Why had she come alone, without her husband Pradeep Uncle? How long did she plan to stay? I didn’t want to ask all these questions directly to Vasuki Aunty, as she seemed quite distraught. So, I took the opportunity to speak with my mom privately later in the day to inquire about the situation.

It was during that conversation that I learned what was going on. Vasuki Aunty had a falling out with Pradeep Uncle and left their home. She didn’t go into details, but she mentioned that Aunt Vasuki would be staying with us while they worked through their issues.

Now, let me share a bit more about Vasuki Aunty. As I mentioned earlier, she was an attractive woman in an unassuming manner. She consistently dressed in modest sarees and presented herself with a traditional demeanor. What made her unique was her habit of securing the bottom pleat of her pallu to the lower part of her blouse with a safety pin, ensuring that her pallu would never unintentionally shift from her belly. As if that wasn’t distinctive enough, she also wore her saree above her navel.

Being someone with a intense case of navel fetish my eyes had an instinctive tendency to gravitate towards the midriff of women whenever I see one in a saree. I would always hope for a glimpse of that sensual indentation, which I considered the most alluring part of a woman’s body. I had always harbored a secret desire to catch a glimpse of Vasuki Aunty’s navel. However, because of the way she wore her saree, such hopes seemed futile from the start. Still, the sight of a small portion of her hips that was consistently visible in her saree, combined with her clear complexion and curvaceous figure, was enough to provide a hint of what kind of belly might be concealed beneath that pallu.

As the days passed, I didn’t really know what I had expected, but I was genuinely excited to be sharing my room with her. Two weeks elapsed, and there was nothing dramatic or even remotely exciting happening. She spent her days helping my mom with household chores and would only come into my room at bedtime, where she promptly fell asleep. Fortunately, my bed was spacious enough for both of us.

She remained mostly silent and kept to herself. I could sense that she carried a weight of guilt about her marriage and held herself responsible for the situation. She believed she was a burden to us and tried to compensate by taking on all the household chores and keeping her presence minimal. It was evident that she carried a profound sadness within her, and I wished I could do something to alleviate it. A woman as exquisite as her didn’t deserve to suffer.

One night, the power went out in our apartment, and the stifling heat set in. She entered my room, visibly exhausted, and lay down. I was at my table, attempting to study by candlelight, not paying her much attention. However, I could feel her discomfort as she tossed and turned in bed in the oppressive heat. Despite the discomfort, she eventually managed to fall asleep.

A while later, electricity returned and the fan roared to life, providing much needed relief from the heat. Feeling a bit thirsty, I decided to get up and fetch water from the refrigerator. But as I turned around and faced the bed, I was met with the most enchanting sight of my entire life. I froze on my tracks. My aunt lay there, deep in slumber, and her ENTIRE belly was exposed.

She must’ve removed her safety pins and lowered her saree due to the heat during the power outage. And when the power returned her pallu slid from her belly, thanks to the cooling breeze from the fan. And what a sight it was ! Nestled in the midst of a belly that looked like smooth creamy butter was the most erotic navel I have ever seen. It was so distractingly big and had a peculiar shape – broad and deep on the top part and narrower towards the bottom, like a diamond. In short a diamond shaped navel and looked every bit as precious and attractive as a diamond too. Its enchanting shape just invited to be explored like an abyss of desire, deep and inviting promising secrets and pleasures beyond imagination.

My eyes refused to shift from that intoxicating sight, and every fiber of my being, every carnal instinct, urged me to touch it…. caress it…. and worship it. It took every ounce of my self control to hold myself back. Still I felt an uncontrollable urge to do something…. anything. In a daze I rushed to my desk and took out my sketchbook and pencil, and began drawing a picture of her lying in bed. Drawing was my passion, and I approached it with a deep sense of reverence.

With loving care, I sketched her figure, feeling as if I was worshipping her with my art. My heart raced wildly as I meticulously captured the exquisite details of her navel. Once I had completed the drawing, I gazed at it with affection, bringing the picture close to my lips. I kissed her navel in the image deeply, my mind imagining it was the real thing, and I let out a contented sigh.

I lovingly drew her figure, feeling as though I was worshipping her with my art. My heart pumped wildly as I drew her navel in exquisite detail. Once I done, I lovingly looked at my handy work, brought the picture close to my mouth and kissed her navel part deeply imagining I kissing the real thing and sighed.

I spent so many hours drawing her picture and watching her that I didn’t notice the time slipping away. It was early morning when I finally lay down on my bed, holding the picture close to my chest, before drifting off to sleep.