Her eyes are like the sea during the night, deep and nunude mystical.

Her eyes are like the sea during the night, deep and mystical. Her lips are as red as the hibiscus flower that grows in the Bengal countryside. Her body is as smooth as the sand on the beaches of Cox’s Bazar. She is the lady who is not a lady, yet a goddess, a seductress, an enchantress.

Her voice is as sweet as the Bengali people tune that is sung by the women of Bengal. Her touch is as gentle as the Bengali rain that drops on the leaves of the mango tree. Her kiss is as warm as the Bengali summer season that makes you sweat. She is the female that is not a female, however a goddess, a seductress, an enchantress.

Her smile is as intense as the Bengali sunlight that radiates on the Ganges River. Her laughter is as sweet-sounding as the Bengali flute that is played throughout the Durga Puja festival. Her tears are as salty as the Bengali salt water that washes the coasts of Bengal. She is the female that is not a female, however a goddess, a seductress, an enchantress.

The Bengali sex auntie is not simply a female, she is a desire, a fantasy, a truth. She is not just a woman, she is a siren, a seductress, an enchantress. She is not simply a woman, she is a Bengali woman, a Bengali siren, a Bengali enchantress. She is not just a woman, she is the Bengali sex auntie, a goddess, a seductress, an enchantress.

She is the lady who is not a female, but a siren, a seductress, nunude an enchantress. She is the lady that is not a female, however a goddess, a seductress, an enchantress.

She is not simply a woman, she is a Bengali woman, a Bengali goddess, a Bengali enchantress.