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Growing up in a small village in Kerala meant that I was naive and too unsophisticated to mix with the city kids in college. I was a slim, tall, fair guy with a thin mustache growing on my upper lips. I looked like a lamp post when I stood with my mundu tucked up.
I wore a mundu (white dhoti) to school every day and I did not want to do the same in college. The final exams for twelfth grade went by and I was eager to pursue my new life in the city. But that also meant that I had to get new clothes, make new friends and start living on my own. That seemed exciting. The first issue to solve was with clothing.
Somehow, I got the money to get some new trousers stitched. The only tailor in the village was a Babu. Babu must have been in his early thirties. He sat bare-chested in the verandah of his small house smiling at the occasional passers-by while operating his old Usha sewing machine. He had a stubble all the time and smoked beedis when work was light. No wife, no kids, just the old Usha sewing machine to care for. Babu ran his tailoring shop from his two-room house at the far end of the dirt road. The red dirt road wound uphill before coming to a dead end near an old discarded well. People rarely walked that way. The two helpers that Babu employed were part-time. They came in during the weekends and whenever Babu had extra workload. I bought two sets of pant pieces with all the money I had and showed up at Babu's door one Friday evening when sun was just setting.
It was getting dark and a small light bulb shone above his Usha machine. Looking up he said, "You have grown up quite a bit, kutta (my boy) since I saw you last. You are now tall and that light mustache is looking quite good already". I was shy and embarrassed at this unexpected comment. I bit my lips and pulled down my lungi that was tucked up to my waist. "What have you go there with you kutta?", he asked. I explained the situation in as few words as possible. I needed pants stitched. Babu nodded and smiled. He snuffed out his beedi and took the pant pieces from me. “Let me get my book and let us start measuring”.
He got his register and squatted by my feet. I was standing up. “Tuck up your lungi so that I can make some tape measurements. A little higher”, he said. Now I was feeling a little shy and embarrassed and I was getting an erection after seeing the bare-chested Babu staring up my lungi. I wanted to hug him. He started measuring my waist. His hands grazed my belly button and my hard-on even got harder. He kept writing down the numbers in his register and then proceeded to make ‘in-seam’ measurements. His hands ran up my hairy thighs and upto my crotch from under my lungi. I could feel my balls getting touched. Now he wanted the ‘cup loose’ measurements. For this, he got hold of my entire balls and dick and asked if it needed to be tight and loose. That was the breaking point for me.
I could not speak and let out a faint moan. “Ah, you got a big one, dear” and he calmly proceeded to move his head up through my lungi. Babu pulled down my underwear and started sucking my dick with all his force. I was in heaven. He noticed I was shy and got me inside is house. On the bed, he kissed my lips tightly. I could smell the beedi in is breath. It felt strangely erotic. I kissed him back. babu had his hands on my crotch and massaged it while he was kissing me. He took a hand of mine and put it inside his green lungi. I was surprised that he had no underwear. The dick was way bigger than mine and throbbing. I wanted to sniff it, kiss it. Soon we were cumming in each other's mouths.
I came by Babu’s shop many more times. To collect my stitched pants, for alterations and like.
We’ve formed a bond that survives to this day. And we never fail to give each other a good time whenever we meet. Please send feedback to lungi_fetish@yahoo.com
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