Ann Influences a Rightwinger

Special Thanks to Katy Reznicek. She edits most of my stories and I love the way she edits. It never alters the essence of the story which is so important.

*****

It was early morning one weekend. I walked out of my room to find my communist dad in the midst of a heated discussion with Dr. Sharma, his apolitical friend and a renowned psychiatrist in the city. I'm accustomed to these verbal duels, which usually become an unending barrage of ideas from both sides. Every point of view, left, right, and center, were discussed to death.

As I entered the living room, Dr. Sharma got up with a big smile on his face. "Hey! Sorry if we woke you."

"That's alright, I'm used to hearing your stimulating conversation."

They both laughed and returned to their conversation, which seemed to be about the changing political environment. Conservative views were increasing in popularity, and communities were becoming more polarized, even to the point of openly insulting people. Recently, a man had called me "public property" because I'm 35 and single, which is akin to calling me a slut.

This growing climate of intolerance seemed to be helped along by the recently elected leader Deepak Agarwal. He himself was not extreme in his views, but his cult-like status seemed to allow his admirers to grow more radical every day.

Deepak's son Kunal, who turned 18 recently, was rather aggressive and gave the impression that he might take his dad's ideology to the next level. One day, his small gang of 18 year olds was collecting money to build a Lord Ganesh statue for the Ganesh festival (Lord Ganesh is highly revered in India). He barged in our apartment for collection. I was sitting on the sofa and ignored them all, but Dad quickly went to his room to fetch some cash. He wasn't interested in causing trouble with this gang. Once they got the money they thanked dad and Kunal smirked at me and said, "Thank you didi". Didi means older sister in Hindi. I heard the sarcasm in his voice, and was disgusted by this impertinent behavior. It was showing my place in their absurd worldview.

Life went on and dad and our neighbors in the apartment complex were seriously concerned by this change in attitude. But surprisingly, one night something interesting started. I was alone at home dressed in a low-cut sleeveless yellow mini-dress, and someone rang the doorbell. I opened the door, and who accompanied my dad but Kunal . We were shocked to see each other. He was probably thrilled to find me in such provocative attire. And I was rather astounded to see him with my dad at this unearthly hour. It made me apprehensive. Dad invited Kunal in and introduced him. I wasn't impressed and for a few seconds suspected that my dad has succumbed to their ideology.

They sat at the dining table and resumed their conversation. As I sat with them, my head was spinning. How could a man spend an evening with a guy who is forty years younger than him- not to mention his adversary- and get him to his house and introduce him to his daughter who is wearing a sexy miniskirt. Dad didn't seem bothered by my attire.

Before they could start their discussion, dad interrupted and explained how they met and became friends in just one evening. They had bumped into each other at a local bar. Dad was alone enjoying some whiskey, and Kunal was sitting at the next table with a friend drinking beer. He was rather embarrassed to face my dad. If anyone knew Kunal was drinking, it would ruin his father's reputation. All the talks on tradition, religion, morality, and the evils of liquor would seem shallow because his own son was caught drinking. He would be called a hypocrite. Kunal was certainly concerned about his father's reputation. Dad could see the embarrassment and distress on his face.

Once Kunal's friend left. Dad called him to his table. Reluctantly, he joined. That's how the conversation began. The young right-winger met the old leftist. His adolescent impressionable mind couldn't resist or retaliate the counter arguments of this sixty-year-old veteran. They talked so long the bar was closing, and Dad asked Kunal to join him for another drink at his home.

Kunal was slightly tipsy, but more than that he was drooling at me when dad looked away. With every opportunity he stole glances at me. He had a youthful exuberance and was fair- more like his mother- and tall and lean. We were seated opposite to each other at the dining table. Poor chap was distracted every time as I bent low and my big boobs nearly spilled out of the deep v-neck. Dad was sitting beside me engrossed in his conversation and enjoying his whiskey, distracted by preparing a small peg for Kunal. I deliberately turned a bit so that Kunal could have a better view of my side-boob, which was well exposed. I was without bra and felt topless. The young lad was tantalized by this behavior, which he never would have encountered with his conservative upbringing. My skirt was hitched up enough but hiding my forbidden region as the skirt would slip.

Kunal was involved in the conversation, but was fidgeting. Suddenly his bike keys slipped and fell under the dining table. He bent low underneath the table to pick them up. I spread my legs and pulled up the edge of my skirt a little, exposing my white high cut panties. I was aware of the disadvantage of wearing the pleated skirt: it kept falling and covering the underwear. I really had to spread my legs so that my underwear was well exposed. He was searching for keys, and dad was on smart phone texting. Kunal deliberately took few more seconds to find his keys. I knew he wouldn't resist this opportunity and look up my skirt, and my white panties and curvy hips and thighs would drive him crazy. He found the keys and I pretended to be busy on my smart phone. I glanced at him and he had an awkward embarrassed look on his face.

I knew this was more than a little risky with dad around, but it certainly was provocative. And it felt good to get noticed. This hide and seek game was fun. I was eager to take this tease to the next level.

As the conversation flowed, Kunal showed less resistance to dad's arguments. It was rather startling to see my father's ideals seeping into this young impressionable mind. Genuine brainwashing was taking place, or maybe the systematic dismantling of extremist ideology that he grew up with. Maybe my sexy outfit or the flashing of my panties was helping to remove the resistance. I wonder whether he had succumbed to my charms or to dad's logical arguments.

I quietly left the discussion and went to the washroom to remove my panties. Let the tease become more erotic. I really wanted to corrupt this kid. As soon as I came back, dad requested that I fetch some of his old books. This was rather baffling. Why on earth would he want to introduce Kunal to that old Marxist Literature from 1930's and 40's? I'd been hearing about them for the last 30 years. Poor chap might have to tolerate it for the next hour or more.

The books were kept on a shelf above the door in my room. I needed a ladder to reach the books on the top. I candidly asked for Kunal's help, and he gleefully agreed. I could sense his desperation. He took the ladder to my room and placed it against the wall so he could get the books. Meanwhile, I was preparing for the next upskirt. I sat on the chair, this time spreading my legs wide while pretending to read a magazine. He stepped down off the ladder and looked back at me. The poor lad was mesmerized. I knew he was staring at my exposed pussy.

I smiled at him and blurted, "I can see you peeking up my skirt."

He was wide-eyed with astonishment. Poor fellow was in serious dilemma to either tolerate dad's never-ending lecture on Marxism or to join me. This was too hot to resist.

I looked into his eyes and said, "I was angry when you first barged into my house during the Ganesh festival. But now I'm cool about it."

I set the magazine aside and pulled my legs close and said, "I hope dad isn't boring you".

Dusting off the books he replied, "Well he's quite a knowledgeable man. I can learn a lot from him. But I don't believe what I'm seeing from you. You are crazy."

The reply was surprising. I knew dad's arguments must be overwhelming, but they seemed to be working on this rightwing lad. I wonder how Kunal would focus after watching my cunt.

I bent a little, showing plenty of cleavage while spreading my legs wide, pulling the pleated skirt up so that he could have a clear view of my pussy. This was a golden opportunity for some serious teasing. Dad was drunk and a little dizzy and he might not disturb for some time.

"I hope you are getting used to watching me bottomless and topless. And nothing is distracting you."

With a naughty grin on his face he replied, "Well to be honest I'm enjoying it, you're so liberated and free minded."

As expected a typical reply from an Indian boy. Women are either free or traditional; sluts or prudes.

I spread my legs wider, my hands moving around my smooth hips. My fingers played between my legs and felt my wet cunt.

I smiled at him and said, "An hour ago you seemed so desperate to sneak a peek under my skirt. I know you're horny. Maybe you can do something more than just look. I can be even more naughty and keep teasing you for eternity. Why don't you let your cock out and let me see you wanking while no one catching you? It's an open challenge sweetheart. You'll get a long look up my skirt or even more."

He looked quite apprehensive thinking dad must be waiting outside.

I assured him that dad must have dozed off. I know his drinking pattern.

He took the bait and dropped his jeans. Within a few seconds the teasing and testosterone did the trick. His cock was erect in his hands.

Growing more aroused myself I spread my legs and lifted my feet. I caressed my curves, showing off my voluptuous breasts and shapely hips. Kunal was rubbing his long thick tool vigorously, and watching him wank was turning me on. The risk of getting caught was arousing me even more.

I was incredibly wet now watching him stroking his cock and knowing we could be caught. I kept playing with my pussy spreading it, rubbing my clit and fingering my vagina. Kunal's eyes were transfixed to my pussy. I suddenly stood up- which startled Kunal. He was scared for a few seconds thinking someone was at the door. I laughed after seeing the frightened look on his face. There was no one.

I gave a naughty smile and said, "You would certainly enjoy watching my big ass wouldn't you?"

"I would die to watch."

I turned back and bent low; my left palm resting against the wall and my right hand stroking my skirt.

"Do you like my skirt?"

"I'm dying to see what is in there."

"Oh! There is no suspense. It's my big ass."

He waited a few seconds, while playing with his dick he uttered, "Then show it."

I parted my legs and pulled my skirt up to above my belly button to expose my voluptuous ass and wet pussy. I could hear the sound of Kunal jacking off. I started playing with my pussy and shaking my ass teasing him as much as I could.

"I think I should remove my dress."

"You should. I want to see you naked."

I turned and undressed, this time standing stark naked holding my breasts, playing with them and squeezing them. Kunal's was entranced.

"Unbelievable."

"I think you've shagged enough darling, come close to me."

He rushed towards me. I sat on the chair leaning backwards, and grabbed his dick and placed it between my breasts. It was throbbing with pleasure. I squeezed my breasts around his cock, and he started breast fucking me.

We were now both gasping in pleasure, and taking turns holding my breasts. The fucking turned intense, with my breasts hitting his thighs. He eventually spurted loads of cum over my breasts, dripping from my nipples to my belly. He crashed on the bed, fully spent.

I rushed to washroom to clean up and get dressed. In the mean time Kunal was dressed and returned the books to their place. Dad was in deep sleep and snoring. Kunal was getting calls from home and he quickly left.

I was slightly worried as to where this night might lead. I wonder how this boy from such a conservative background might take it. But everything turned out well. Kunal is in medical school and still keeps in touch with my father. He still has an incredible interest in liberal left ideology.

I receive tons of messages from him. The majority of the messages are dirty, and some are cute and romantic. I ignore them, though I can't blame him for trying. I was naughty that night. I wonder if this transformation was because of dad or maybe the breast fucking did the trick.