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The pages in the calendar in that room were blowing in the wind. The calendar read year 1995. There was some disturbance in that room, indicating the presence of someone. In that room, a boy was in a deep sleep in his bed. But the strange sound of the unknown presence broke his sleep. He got terrified. His mom and dad were supposed to be away from the town for the next two days. So, who could that be?
More than the presence of any stranger, he was afraid of getting caught. Somehow, he gathered the courage to peep out of his linen under which he was hiding. He saw a woman, who must be between 35-40 years of age, sitting in a chair in front of his bed. She was going through a woman’s magazine named Griha Shobha , usually read by house wives in India. She had crossed her long legs. She was wearing a saree and its pleats were flowing very beautifully from below her waist to her ankles. She was wearing high heel sandals. She must have come from out of town. The boy thought, as he looked at her, because no one in his home owned sandals like this. Any 14 year old boy would find a curvy woman like her to be very attractive, and he was no exception. But the woman caught him peeping through his bed covers. She looked directly into his eyes. He was going to get caught today. There was no escape for him.
“So, you like to read women’s magazine?”, she looked into his eyes from a distance and said. She had a mischievous smile on her face.
“That magazine is not mine!”, the boy refuted. He wanted to avoid the blame of reading women’s magazine.
She smiled at him as if she didn’t believe a word of what he said. Her face seemed very familiar to him, but he had never seen her before. Might she be one of his father’s distant relative? If that’s the case, mom and dad must have come back as well. He thought. The fear of getting caught made his heart beat faster. “Who are you, aunty?”, he asked hesitantly.
“Aunty?”, she said in a dramatic way, “Come on! You could have at least called me something like an elder sister. I am not too old, you know?”, she said while putting away the magazine on the side table as if she is annoyed being called an aunty. “Anyway, if you say aunty, I will be your aunty”. Aunty straightened her legs, tried to pull together her saree pleats, and then, she used her fingers to cover her lovely bosom with her saree and got up. The boy was now really clueless. For him, he is in the habit of calling any woman aunty who is 35 years or older.
Aunty got up and started walking towards him. She was very good at wearing saree as he could see from the perfect equal spaced pleats that were pinned to her shoulder. She pulled her saree pallu’s end with one hand, brought it to the front on her lap before she sat next to him on his bed. “At your age, I would expect boys to hide adult magazines under their bed. But you are hiding Griha Shobha? That’s unusual!”, she made naughty expressions with her eyes as she said these words as if she knew his secret. She was really close to him now. He was afraid, but he couldn’t move his eyes away from aunty’s sexy waist wrapped in a very beautiful saree. Afterall, this view was right in front of his eyes.
The boy didn’t want the truth to come out, so he decided to lie instead. He said, “Those magazines also have sexy stories. And I like reading sexy stories.” He was willing to lie about reading sexy stories to an older woman. He must have a big secret to hide, otherwise no boy would dare to say something like this.
“Oh, is that so? So, that’s why you brought Bridal special edition of the magazine? I have gone through all the sexy stories in that magazine. ‘How to do solah shringar?’, ‘Lehenga or Saree: What to wear for your wedding?’, ‘Bridal costumes from different states of India’. That whole magazine is filled with articles like these, and the pictures of brides and women in sarees. I didn’t see any sexy story.”, aunty caught his lie.
Now, he got really terrified. What will he do if this strange mysterious aunty tells everything to his mom? Aunty had something more planned. She slid her hands below the mattress of his bed, and pulled something out. “So, let’s see what else you are hiding!”, she said.
When she pulled her hand out, there was a saree in her hand. She opened and looked at the saree uninterestingly. “It looks really cheap. I will never wear anything like this. Who did you buy this for? And how much did you pay for this?”, aunty asked him as she got closer to his face. She was wearing a perfume, with a mesmerizing fragrance. He had never smelled anything like that in his life. He was caught in that fragrance for a few seconds before he could utter anything.
“I paid Rs.100 for this. Please, don’t tell about this to anyone.”, he begged to the stranger lady.
“OK! I won’t tell anyone”, she laughed and said, “But are you going to get out of your covers on your own or should I pull it myself?”
He responded no by shaking his head, but aunty pulled his covers very quickly. Her numerous bangles made a tinkling sound as she did it. The boy didn’t know what he could do now. His secret was out. He had been sleeping wearing his mother’s saree and blouse. He was caught!
“Hey, what’s there to be shy of? You like wearing sarees, right? So do I”, she had a mischievous smile as she said this. “Oh god! It’s really hot in this room”, she said. She pulled her bra strap on one side and pushed it inside her blouse. Then, she slid her fingers inside her blouse from the front below her bra band. She was probably fixing her bra. “Oh boy, I am sweating a lot. I don’t know whether I have grown fat or my bra has shrunk. What do you think? Do I look fat to you?”, aunty asked the boy. She really teased him with her bra stunt.
The boy was already ashamed after getting caught. And now, this aunty was talking about things he dare not speak about. But he couldn’t ignore the fact that this aunty was slightly fat but she was extremely hot. She was a busty woman, had bigger breasts which filled her blouse perfectly. One could see her cleavage through the deep neck of her blouse behind the saree. The blouse back was deeper. In fact, it was so deep that he had never seen such a style ever on any woman. But the fluffy back looked sexy on her. Her dark lipstick made her lips look really luscious. If anyone at his home had any lipstick like that, he would definitely have tried that.
“Boy! You haven’t even said a word for so long. Anyway, what will you know about the discomfort of wearing a bra in a hot weather? You aren’t wearing any inside your blouse. All you have is two tiny socks in it. Do you like it?”, she started laughing looking at his face.
The boy was turning red with shame. Who could this mysterious aunty be? He was still afraid that she might reveal his secret to his mother. And if she doesn’t, who knows what she would want him to do in exchange? He kept wondering.
“Aunty, I am sorry but I don’t know you. Who are you?”, he finally gathered the courage to ask this question once more.
“Huh? You yourself said that I am your aunty. So, what’s there to ask? Don’t worry, you will know me better in a few years time.”, she said with a smile. He still felt that aunty’s face looks very familiar but he still had no idea who this mysterious woman was. Nonetheless, she looked fabulous in her saree. Her saree’s design was refreshingly new. He had never seen anything like it. And she was looking fashionable in her colorful bangles. Yet, he was still afraid of what lies ahead as his secret of crossdressing was out.
Aunty must have read his fear from his face. She said, “Don’t fear dear. I am not going to tell anyone about this. You like wearing sarees, isn’t it? Now, look at my saree and tell me how does it look on me? You can touch it if you want.” Aunty gave her pallu in his hand to feel the soft fabric of her saree.
“You really won’t tell anyone?”, he said. At the same time, he felt he is in heaven when he touched aunty’s super soft and silky saree pallu. “Yes dear, I promise I won’t tell anyone. And if you want, I can teach you how to wear a saree properly.”, aunty said as she touched his face with her hands. She then spread her pallu and let it fall all over boy’s head. His face was now covered under the lovely and beautifully designed pallu.
The boy smiled with excitement. He loved the touch of this feminine pleasure. His eyes were now shining with joy. He said, “Aunty, your saree is really beautiful, and you are a very beautiful woman too. I can feel the silky touch of your saree. I want to learn how to properly wear a saree like you do. Will you teach me, please?”
Aunty smiled with a lot of love in her face. And she said, “Yes, I will definitely teach you. But to look good in a saree, you have to get into a proper feminine shape. Those two socks won’t do the job. Do you see how big my breasts are?”. She pulled up her saree that was covering her bosom to show him her blouse. Her beautiful navel was now visible, and so were the twin soft looking but firm and sexy breasts that filled her blouse cups perfectly.
The boy looked at those and said, “Ok, Aunty. But can I touch those so that I have an idea of how big a shape I need to make?” His one hand started moving towards aunty’s blouse.
Aunty quickly snapped at his approaching hand, “Shameless boy! Don’t you know how to treat a woman? You should always respect women. Don’t ever forget that. Understood?”. She was not really angry but she reprimanded him with her eyes. The boy shook his head in affirmation.
“Come! Now, let me teach you how to wear a saree.”, she said as she took his hand and got him down his bed. He looked at her glass bangles as she held his hand. He stood up from his bed happily.
The boy had somehow wrapped that saree around his body in a haphazard manner. He had no clue how to do it correctly. But aunty taught him with real love and attention things like how to make saree pleats and where to affix pins. And in a short moment, he was now ready in a perfectly draped saree.
“Aunty, you are not only a beautiful woman but you are really lovely too. But please tell me the truth. Do I look beautiful in this saree?”, he asked aunty. “Yes, my dear son. You are looking very beautiful like a fairy.”, she bent a little forward to hold the boy’s hand between her hands with affection. She then hugged him with love and covered him with her pallu around him. The boy was shorter than aunty and his head rested on aunty’s bosom. With his face between her breasts, he felt the love aunty was showering on him.
“Dear, it’s time for me to leave now. Don’t forget to change your clothes before anyone else comes back home. And take care of yourself.”, she said with a lot of love in her eyes. She winked at him and started leaving. Before the boy could say anything, aunty’s soft saree pallu slipped through his hands. He rushed behind her to the next room to stop her. But aunty was gone.
He kept looking for her but couldn’t find her anywhere. It was really strange because all the doors in his house were locked from inside. Where could aunty vanish? This could not have been a dream, because aunty draped the saree he was wearing. For the first time, he had worn it so well. There was no way this could be a dream. One thing he knew for sure, aunty’s image was etched in his heart forever. “One day when I grow older, I will become like aunty. I will wear saree, blouse and bangles the way she did. I will do anything to be like her.”, he thought and started looking at himself in the mirror as he played with his pallu the way aunty would do. And after a little while, he tried to walk like aunty and reached up to his diary. He opened the page for today’s date and wrote one word in it, “Aunty”.
“Where did you go all dressed up dear?”, some woman asked aunty as soon as she came out of a tiny mechanical cabin in some room. “Oh I went back to the time when I was 14 years old. It was fun.”, aunty said as she removed her shoulder pin to free her pallu from the saree blouse.
“I am sure you must have been a really sweet boy at that age. I would like to meet that boy too. But your friends are about to visit us home soon, you better get dressed as a man.”, the other woman hugged and kissed aunty on her neck. Aunty was now ready to become the man. Aunty unwrapped her saree and put it on the table on the side of a very old diary. The page that was open in that diary said, “Aunty”.