Indian Aunty Bathing

I kept up my routine of walking around in my undies, trying to get his attention, and slowly got more desperate. Now when I took showers, I never closed the door anymore. I'd stand under the running water for an hour, just hoping he'd walk by and see me. I heard a creak by the door once and my heart started pounding, I reached for the soap and started to "wash" myself, slowly rubbing my slippery chest and trailing down to my pussy, sliding the bar of soap around my mound and slipping it between my legs, convinced that dad was just outside, watching through the crack from behind the door. Closing my eyes and continuing to slide the soap along my pussy, spreading my legs and building to an orgasm...And hearing the garage door slam downstairs. If dad was down there, he sure as hell wasn't up here watching me. I was so disappointed I couldn't even finish myself off.And so it went for months. Me getting more and more desperate, him failing to notice all my attempts at arousing him, trying. What she did have was an outstanding figure. It was one of the Italian ones, big up top, big hips but with a small waist. The wedding reception had being going on now for some time and I had sunk a few beers and needed a pee. I wandered about upstairs in the hall looking for the loo when I open a door and there was the bride in the middle of changing into her going away outfit. On hearing the door open she spun to face me holding up her wedding dress in front of her but not before I caught a glimpse of naked flesh beneath."Please I trying to change," she said with a smile.On any other time I would have backed out with a mumbled apology and considered myself lucky to have caught that glimpse. But today I had a few and one does things differently when under the influence. I moved into the room and shut the door behind me."Please," she said again, this time she looked a little worried.Two big strides and I was standing in front of her, behind her was a full length mirror and reflected.
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