Those were the summer days, and I slowly started noticing that the Aunty would change into a village dress when at home,In which she just used a small...cloth on top of her usual Indian style ‘Ghaghra’ (skirt) and ‘Blouse’. The cloth would not hide much of her boobs, and shape of her nice round buttocks would be visible from it. I started watching her from behind whenever she was walking around the house. I would get to see the shape of her buttocks through the ‘Ghaghra’, especially when she was. You lift your hands to the top of the cotton dress I’m wearing and start to carefully undo each tiny button. I feel your wrists brush my breasts, and my nipples rise. When you get to my waist you stop and begin to peel the dress off my shoulders and down my side – I pull my arms out of the sleeves and I’m naked to my waist. The fact that the other people here might turn around only heightens my excitement. Your hands each cup a breast, feeling their weight before you squeeze them firmly,. Reluctantly I pulled my cock out of you and stood up. I decided to abandon the swing idea..I guided you shakily out of it and moved you over against the tree.You leaned your upper body against the trunk and thrust out your groin.I moved between your spread thighs and slid back up you in one easy movement. You almost purred with delight , feeling my throbmeat plugging your slippery cunt once more. This time I gave full rein to my battering hips. We stood, or rather swayed, locked together as I. Well, a bit.” Level six… The lift lurched, shaking its passengers. “Ooh,” Marsha grinned, “it’s bumpy today.” Bumpy? Understatement! Amy’s knuckles turned white. “You’ll put a dent in that rail, if you haven’t already,” Marsha tittered. “Don’t worry, sweetie, we’ll soon be-” She was silenced mid-sentence by a sickeningly loud, grating squeal. A series of violent judders followed, rocking the lift, before all momentum abruptly stopped, throwing the two women against the walls. The lights.