When I entered her house today, I saw a Royal Enfield bike in good light. I asked who it belonged to. She said, "I will ride it." I was just surprised. I wouldn't ride such a big bike myself, why should I tell the truth? She doesn't know how to ride. She is a small girl, six years younger than me, will she ride this bike at all? She said, my mother raised me like a big boy. When I grow up, she told me to be a big police officer. That's why I wear a big bike, do all kinds of physical exercises, and ride a bike, she said. She took my hand and led me, and just squeezed my hand. I shouted, "Mom," she had such strength in her hand. She asked if my back hurt. I immediately said, "I'm fine." I felt a sense of fear for her.
When I entered, she closed the door, took me to her room, and asked me to take off my shirt. I took off my shirt and panty and stood there, covering my chest with my hands. She took out one of her bras and gave it to me. I put on her bra while feeling shy. Although I had worn bras many times before, I couldn't deny that I felt a kind of excitement when I put on a young woman's bra for the first time.
The lungi tied at the bottom was like a skirt. She smiled at me, standing like a doll with a bra on top. She started decorating my mustache-less face with a dot and lipstick, put on a bracelet on my hand and anklets, put some flowers on my head and earrings in my ears. She put on a necklace around my neck. When I looked in the mirror, I looked like a beautiful woman. She brought out the femininity in me, in a day that she saw me.
Now she asks, "Andy, do you understand now why I called you by the name of T?" I also slowly bow my head and stand like a doll. She says, I have seen you as a doll now, but I want to see your full body, your pussy, take off your dress and everything, she said with a bit of authority. Thinking that my wish that I had for so long was about to come true, I was happy inside and pretending to be shy on the outside, and as she asked, I took off my lungi and jatti and stood there. She looked at my pussy and said, it doesn't matter, even though you look like a slut, inside you are a perfect pussy, not a pussy, your pussy is a good dick, long, like a perfect pussy. You can satisfy any girl in bed. She said, marry a girl like me who understands you well and has you. I slowly said, why should I look at another woman, I want to marry you who has seen me completely, I want to marry you and marry me, I will fall shamelessly at the feet of a girl six years younger than me, Amman. She laughed. Why did you fall at my feet like this? She said, get up. Let's see, she said, after I study and join a job, I will decide to marry you. I told her that I will wait for that.
Then I put on the skirt and scarf that she gave me that day and cooked on the stove. She ate and said it was very tasty. After she ate, I ate from the plate she had eaten, she laughed at that. She said, "Are you getting used to all this now, my future daughter-in-law?" Then I said, "It's evening and my mother and aunt will come." I said, "Make it like an amla again." Don't be afraid, I will take care of you, you stay like this, she said. With the courage she gave me, I stayed in the Bombilai dress that day. In the evening, they were stunned when they saw my aunt. But she managed it well. She made me understand. In a short time, they also understood me and accepted me as a Bombilai girl.
After that, for a week before she went to college, she made me wear a Bombilai dress every day and played with me. On the Bombilai dress upstairs, one day with just a bra and skirt, another day with just a skirt, she tied it above her chest like a Bombilai dress - put it on like this and made me fuck her, and there she would wash her clothes - especially her bra and panties by hand and have fun. She would order me to wash them properly while laughing. My aunt would laugh at everything. Andy and Raji would make fun of me by saying that they washed mine too.
She said, "This pottachi Raji won't wash all your clothes, she will only wash this amber dress that is going to be her husband's, what's wrong with me, my future darling, she would call me a T in front of them and make fun of me. I would get embarrassed and cover my face. Both of them would laugh together. In the morning, I would put on a nighty and do kolam for both houses like a girl. She drank her coffee.
She would watch me as if she were supervising my kolam, wearing short Bermuda shorts and a bunion, like a big boy.
Similarly, in the evening, she would take me to a nearby ground, saying that she would teach me to ride her Royal Enfield bike. While she was leaving, she would make me sit behind her bike with my legs on the side like a pom-pom and take me there. Everyone there would laugh at a girl riding her bike majestically on a big track and a big boy sitting behind her with his legs on the side like a pom-pom (should I make her wear a flowery lungi, it looks like a pom-pom skirt, should I wear a flowery pom-pom shirt?). She would yell at everyone there, saying, "What, ride properly?" I sometimes cry, saying that I don't want to ride a bike. She immediately says, "Look, I cry like a bombshell."
She always calls me da, She too is gone, my happiness has vanished in a few months. I too have somehow completed my studies and joined the job. I heard that Vasuda has studied well and joined the police department as she wanted, and now it seems that she has no chance of becoming my husband.
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