Adultery Whispers of Lust: My Mom's Forbidden Path

[Uvaaaa]

Nice update and update soon

[aravindkkumar08]

If I am not mistaken you are the writer for my mom and vikram continuous f**k. Why don't you complete the story which is pending

[1234hitman]

If I am not mistaken you are the writer for my mom and vikram continuous f**k. Why don't you complete the story which is pending

He deleted that story

[Rajeev Gupta]

If I am not mistaken you are the writer for my mom and vikram continuous f**k. Why don't you complete the story which is pending

Yes you are right, I am the writer. I deleted it because it was obsolete. However, this story "Whispers...." is a new fresh and real one with tantalizing plot twists. This story will contain fresh updates every 28 hours, so stay tuned and don't miss out.

[Rajeev Gupta]

Manoj spun Mom around again, her back no longer to him, their faces inches apart. His hands slid down from her waist, brushing her plump ass, his fingers grazing the soft, fleshy curve through the tight creamy dress. 

He didn’t squeeze this time—just a lingering touch, testing her reaction. Her dizziness made her sway into him slightly, her 38-inch breasts brushing his chest.


Manoj: - “How you feeling now, Rekha? Still dizzy, or is the dance waking you up?”

Mom: - “I… I’m still dizzy, Manoj. My head’s all over the place.”

Manoj: - “You look alive to me, beautifully alive. This dance suits you.”

I watched from the couch, my stomach twisting. His hands on her fleshy ass, even just a touch, felt wrong—too intimate, too bold for my mom, who’d never let anyone this close except Dad. 

It wasn’t just unease that I felt; it was a knot of something deeper—worry, maybe anger. She wasn’t herself, swaying like that, and he was taking advantage.
Manoj’s eyes softened, locking onto hers with a romantic glint. He pulled her closer, one hand sliding up her back, the other resting lightly on her hip. 

I didn't even get to explain how this strange man who just knew my mom for few seconds is now on the dancefloor with her dancing and touching her inappropriately. 

The music slowed, and he swayed her gently, his thumb brushing her waist in small circles. He leaned in, whispering something I couldn’t hear, his breath warm against her ear. 

Mom’s lips parted, dazed, a little dizzy still, and he tilted her chin up with a finger, their gazes tangled—his smoldering, hers foggy. Then, in a swift, deliberate move, he kissed her. I felt like I was dreaming while seeing this. 

I rubbed my two eyes together to ensure that I was indeed not dreaming or building castles in the air.


His lips pressed hard against hers, hungry and firm, his hand cupping her neck to hold her there. For five, maybe six seconds, Mom didn’t flinch—her dizziness must’ve dulled her senses, her body limp against him.

The fact that my mom was dizzy was what contributed to her not immediately moving away from his advances of kissing her. But it was too late, his lips were pressed against hers and he was now French kissing her.


Her breasts crushed into his chest, soft and full, the creamy dress outlining every curve as they pressed tight. I froze, shocked, my juice glass nearly slipping from my hand. My pure, religious mom—kissing a stranger on a dance floor?

This is not normal at all for me and not for hers either.


I glanced around, panicked. What if someone here knew her? What if word got back to Dad in Dubai? The neighbors, the temple folks—they’d talk for years. My heart raced, imagining his reaction—anger, hurt, betrayal.


But I knew the party contained and was full of people who don't know my mom so at least I was relaxed. The only person who knew my mom was Shalini, and by now I think that man who was doing something to her in the bathroom was probably continuing to do that thing which was making her scream.

And I was certain that if Shalini knew my mom was kissing another man, Shalini would probably encourage her and tease her more.

Then Mom snapped back to herself. Her eyes widened, and she shoved Manoj away, her hands trembling. She stumbled back, still dizzy, her heels clacking unevenly. She came back to her senses at last and I was happy about that.

Mom: - “What are you doing, Manoj? That’s enough! Leave me! How dare you?”

Manoj: - “Oh, come on, Rekha—just a little fun. You didn’t mind, did you?”

Mom: - “I minded! I’m not here for that—let go of me!”

Manoj: - “Relax, it was just a kiss. You’re too gorgeous to resist—can’t blame me.”

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, spitting to the side, her face flushed with anger and sweat. She turned and hurried toward me, her steps wobbly but determined, her hair sticking to her damp forehead. She reached me, fuming, her breath uneven.

I was afraid maybe she would fall because of her dizziness and the fact that she was walking angrily, the high heels pressed on the concrete floor making clinking sounds. She came to me where I was sitting.

Mom: - “Sanjay, we’re leaving—now!”

Me: - “Why, Ma? What happened?”

Mom: - “Don't worry, I don’t feel right here. Let’s go.”

Me: - “Okay, yeah, let’s get out.”

I nodded, grabbing my glass, but as we turned, Mom froze. Manoj was right there, inches from her face, his grin unshaken. Her eyes narrowed, but he stepped closer, unfazed.


Manoj: - “Leaving already? Let me drive you home—both of you. It’s no trouble.”

Mom: - “No, Manoj. We’ll manage on our own. Please, I am not in for this”

Manoj: - “Come on, Rekha, you’re dizzy—those heels, that dress. I’ll get you home safe.”

Mom: - “I said no. After that, I don’t want your help.”

Manoj: - “What, the kiss? Just a moment of weakness—you’re too stunning, Rekha. Let me make it up with a ride.”

Mom: - “I don’t need you to. We’ll call a cab. Don't mention it in front of my son”

Manoj: - “A cab in this mess? I’m right here—car’s outside. Look at you, sweating, dizzy—let me help.”

His eyes dropped to her breasts, lingering on the way they heaved with her quick breaths, the neckline still low and revealing. Mom shifted, crossing her arms, but he kept pushing, his voice smooth.


Manoj: - “You can’t walk straight, Rekha. Sanjay’s here—I won’t try anything. Just a ride.”

Mom: - “I… fine. But only because Sanjay’s with me. Nothing else.”

Manoj: - “Perfect. Wait here—I’ll pull the car around.”

He flashed that smile again and disappeared into the crowd. Mom exhaled, shaky, and I turned to her, frowning innocently.

Me: - “Ma, why’re you sweating so much?”

Mom: - “It’s hot in here, Sanjay. Too many people.”

Me: - “I saw you do something with Manoj—like what you do with Dad. Kissing him.”

Mom’s eyes widened, her whole body trembling. She grabbed my arm, her voice tight.


Mom: - “What? Oh, Sanjay… that—it’s normal, you know. Just a friendly thing.”

Me: - “Really? Looked weird to me.”

Mom: - “It’s… it’s how some people show they’re friends. Manoj got carried away, but it doesn’t mean anything bad.”

Me: - “But you only kiss Dad like that.”

Mom: - “I know, I know. It’s different here—grown-up stuff. Sometimes it happens at parties. Doesn’t mean I like it.”

Me: - “Okay… if you say so.”

I didn’t believe her. My pure Mom, who prayed every morning, lying about kissing another man? Saying it was good, normal? It felt filthy, wrong, but I played dumb, nodding like I bought it.

Mom: - “Sanjay, listen—don’t look too much when I’m with Manoj, okay? It’s not for you to watch.”

Me: - “Why not?”

Mom: - “Because it’s private—adult things. You’re young, you don’t need to see everything I do.”

Me: - “But I’m right here.”

Mom: - “I know, but just… focus on the party, not me. And please, don’t tell your dad about this.”

Me: - “Why not? He’d wanna know.”

Mom: - “Because it’d worry him for no reason. He’s far away, working hard—he doesn’t need to think I’m upset over something small. It’s our little secret, okay? To keep him happy.”

Her answer was clever—too clever. I stared at her, stunned by how she twisted it, but I nodded, keeping my doubts quiet. People danced around us, the music thumping, and then Manoj reappeared, keys jangling.


Manoj: - “My car’s ready, Rekha. Lead the way—I’ll follow.”

Mom: - “Alright, let’s go, Sanjay.”

Mom started walking, her steps awkward, unsteady. She knew Manoj was behind her, watching her 44-inch plump ass jiggle with each move. 

The dress clung tight, outlining every curve, and her hips swayed more than usual—part dizziness, part nerves. I glanced back and saw his eyes glued to her, tracing the bounce of her flesh, a smirk tugging at his lips




We climbed into Manoj’s car, a sleek black sedan parked just outside the buzzing party venue. Mom took the front passenger seat, her movements sluggish from dizziness, while I slid into the back. 

The doors shut with a soft thud, sealing us into an awkward silence that hung heavy between Mom and Manoj. The kiss on the dance floor lingered like an unspoken shadow—neither of them looked at each other. 

Mom stared out the window, her arms crossed tight over her 38-inch bust, the creamy dress still clinging to her curves. Manoj gripped the steering wheel, his jaw set, his usual grin replaced by a tight-lipped focus. The engine hummed to life, and we pulled away, the party’s lights fading behind us.


Mom’s head lolled slightly as the car rolled forward. Her eyes fluttered, then closed, her breathing slowing into a soft rhythm. She was falling asleep—her dizziness must’ve taken over, pulling her under. 

I’d never seen her like this—my strong, steady Mom, always up before dawn for puja, now slumped in a stranger’s car, her face soft and vulnerable. I didn’t know why she was so out of it—maybe the juice, the heat, the chaos of the night. 


It worried me, but I stayed quiet, watching her from the back seat.
Manoj noticed too. His eyes flicked to her, then back to the road, then to her again. A glint sparked in his gaze—something sly, opportunistic. His left hand stayed on the wheel, but his right slid off, creeping toward her. 

He brushed her thigh, just above the knee, where the dress had ridden up slightly, exposing her smooth, golden skin. His fingers lingered, tracing a slow, deliberate line, testing her stillness. Mom didn’t stir, lost in sleep, her chest rising and falling gently.


I saw it—his hand on her thigh—and anger flared in my chest, hot and sharp. But I didn’t say anything. Instead, I squeezed my eyes shut, pretending to sleep, my head resting against the window. Manoj glanced at me in the rearview mirror, his eyes narrowing as he checked. 

Satisfied I wasn’t watching, his confidence grew. His hand pressed firmer on Mom’s thigh, caressing now, his fingers splaying wide to feel the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric.


Then he went further. His left hand steered steady, but his right slid up, brushing the edge of her 38-inch breasts. He cupped one gently, his palm pressing against the soft curve, the dress stretching under his touch. 

Mom’s breathing hitched and turned into a moan, she was thinking or dreaming it was dad who was touching her. But no, it was Manoj, the hungry Manoj. And just for a second, but she didn’t wake. 

He lingered there, his thumb grazing the swell, his eyes darting between her and the road, a hungry edge to his expression. The way he touched her—so bold, so possessive—made my stomach churn, but I kept my eyes shut, fists clenched in my lap.


His hand moved again, slipping back to her thighs. He massaged them now, slow and deep, his fingers kneading the smooth flesh. The dress had bunched higher, revealing more of her legs—long, toned, glowing faintly in the dashboard light. 

He traced the inner curve of her thigh, his touch lingering, savoring the softness. I peeked through slitted eyes, and something strange happened—a tightness stirred in me, a flush I didn’t understand. My body reacted, a hardness I couldn’t explain, and I shifted uncomfortably, confused by the feeling.


Manoj’s hand ventured higher, slipping between her upper thighs, towards her pussy, where the dress offered little resistance. It was short, flimsy—perfect for the party, but now it left her exposed. I realized then, with a jolt, she wasn’t wearing anything underneath, nothing like panties, my mom went to the party without wearing panties! What a shocker!

Maybe it was the dress—too tight for extra layers—or maybe she’d skipped it for comfort. Either way, it made her vulnerable, and Manoj knew it. His fingers brushed higher, teasing the edge of her pussy, a subtle graze that stayed just shy of too far.


Mom stirred in her sleep, a faint moan escaping her lips—soft, breathy, almost dreamy. Her face twitched, lips parting, a flicker of pleasure crossing her features. Maybe she was dreaming of Dad, mistaking Manoj’s touch for his. 

Manoj’s eyes lit up, catching the sound, and his confidence surged. He pressed a little firmer, his fingers circling gently, coaxing more from her. Her brought the hands to his nose and smelt the juices of her pussy, then her brought it back and started rubbing her pussy again.


Another moan slipped out, louder this time, a sweet hum that filled the car. Her head tilted back, hair spilling over the seat, her chest heaving slightly.
Manoj pulled his hand back for a moment, lifting it to his face. He sniffed his fingers again, a faint smile curling his lips, then slid them back, repeating the motion. 

This time, when he withdrew, a sticky sheen glistened on his fingertips—subtle, it was mom's pussy juices again, but there. He brought them to his mouth, tasting them with a slow, deliberate lick, his eyes half-closed like he was savoring something rare. 

I saw it—the gluey shine, the way he relished it—and my confusion deepened, mingling with the anger still simmering inside me.


The car rolled on, the silence broken only by Mom’s soft sounds and the hum of the engine. Manoj kept one hand on the wheel, the other drifting back to her thigh, resting there now, a quiet claim. I stayed still, eyes barely open, torn between confronting him and letting it play out, unsure what to feel or do.



Then we reached home, I woke mom up and we headed to our house. Then something happened.........




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[Asli lund]

Mast update diya

[ray.rowdy]

Nicely going. Keep it up.

[Hotyyhard]

superb building

[Uvaaaa]

Good keep rocking

[Rajeev Gupta]

The car slowed to a stop in front of our house, the engine’s hum fading into the quiet night. Mom was still slumped in the front seat, her head resting against the window, lost in a deep, dizzy sleep. 

Her legs wide and her thighs exposed, her pussy juices some flowing on the car seat.

I stirred in the back, blinking awake as the streetlights cast soft glows through the windows. I leaned forward, noticing her legs—spread slightly, the creamy dress hiked up, revealing the smooth curve of her thighs. 

A faint sheen glistened between them, a subtle wetness that caught the light. My stomach tightened, unsure what it meant, but I shook Mom’s shoulder gently.


Me: - “Ma, wake up—we’re home.”

Mom: - (groggy) “Hmm? Oh… Sanjay, we’re here?”

Me: - “Yeah, just pulled up. You were out cold.”

She blinked, coming back to herself, and shifted in the seat. Her hands brushed her thighs, and she froze, feeling the dampness. Her legs snapped together, the dress rustling as she tugged it down, her eyes wide with confusion.

Mom: - “Why… why are my legs like this? And this—why’s it wet?”

Me: - “I dunno, Ma. You were sleeping the whole ride.”

She glanced at Manoj, her cheeks flushing. He was staring—his eyes locked on her exposed thighs, a faint smirk tugging at his lips, though he quickly masked it with a casual shrug. Mom’s brow furrowed, but she didn’t press me further, turning to him instead.

Mom: - “Manoj, thank you for the ride. I… I fell asleep, didn’t I?”

Manoj: - “Yeah, Rekha, you were out like a light. Long night, huh? Looked peaceful, though.”

Mom: - “I suppose. It’s been too much. Thanks again—we’ll head in now.”



I loved how my mom was friendly with him despite him kissing her earlier. This was my mom's core behaviour. Her religious norms always taught her to be friendly towards strangers.



Manoj: - “Wait, Rekha—why not invite me in? Just for a bit. Could use a glass of water after driving.”

Mom: - “Oh, no, it’s late. Sanjay and I need to rest.”

Manoj: - “Come on, just a quick stop. You’ve got a nice place—I’d love to see it. Been a good host all night, haven’t I?”

Mom: - “You’ve been kind, yes, but it’s not proper, especially what you have done earlier. My husband’s not here, and… it’s not our way.”



My mom was speaking in hushed tone because she was thinking I was listening to her.



Manoj: - “Proper? Rekha, we’re friends now, aren’t we? Nothing wrong with a little hospitality or that small kiss I gave you earlier”

Mom: - “In our culture, Manoj, it’s different. I don’t invite men in when my husband's away—it’s not right.”

Manoj: - “Culture’s fine, but you’re modern too—look at that dress. Just a water, five minutes, then I’m gone.”

Mom: - “No, really. I’m tired, and it wouldn’t feel right. Thank you, but we’ll manage.”

Manoj: - “Night’s not over yet, Rekha. Sure you won’t let me in? Could keep you company.”

Mom: - “No, really—it’s not our custom. I’ve got Sanjay to think of.”

Manoj: - “Sanjay’s a big kid—he’d be fine. Just a chat, Rekha—nothing more.”

Mom: - “I don’t think so. It’s late, and I’m not feeling myself.”

Manoj: - “You’re feeling plenty, I’d say. That dress, that glow—invite me in, let’s unwind.”

Mom: - “Manoj, please. My faith doesn’t allow it—I can’t.”

Manoj: - “Faith’s important, sure, but so’s living a little. You’ve got a spark tonight—don’t douse it.”

Mom: - “I’ve lived enough for one night. Thank you, but no.”


Her voice was firm, rooted in the religious values she held dear—the ones that guided her daily pujas, her modest life. Manoj tilted his head, his gaze softening, but he didn’t push too hard, switching tactics.


Manoj: - “Alright, I respect that. How about your number, then? So we can keep in touch.”

Mom: - “My number? Why would you need that?”

Manoj: - “Why not? You’re interesting, Rekha—beautiful, strong. I’d like to check in, see how you’re doing.”

Mom: - “I don’t give my number out like that. It’s… personal.”

Manoj: - “Personal’s the point. Tonight was special—don’t you think? Just a call now and then, nothing big.”

Mom: - “I don’t know, Manoj. What would we even talk about?”

Manoj: - “Anything—your day, Sanjay, that glow you’ve got. Maybe even the kiss. I’d just like to hear your voice again.”

Mom: - “You’re persistent, aren’t you? I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

Manoj: - “It’s the best idea. Come on, Rekha—one number won’t hurt. I’ll be a gentleman—promise.”

Mom hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the dress’s hem. Her cultural instincts tugged at her, but his charm—smooth, relentless—wore her down. She sighed, relenting.


Mom: - “Fine…. But don’t misuse it, Manoj.”

Manoj: - “Wouldn’t dream of it. You’re a gem, Rekha—thanks.”


Mom then gave him her number.



She nodded curtly and pushed the door open, stepping out with a wobble. Manoj leaned over, his voice dropping low.


Manoj: - “Oh, Rekha—go to the bathroom when you get in. You’ll find something nice between your thighs.”

Mom: - “What? What do you mean by that?”

Her eyes narrowed, inquisitive, searching his face. He just smiled, cryptic and knowing, his gaze flicking to her legs. Mom’s lips parted, puzzled, but then she glanced at me, noticing I was listening.


Mom: - “Sanjay, go open the door—quickly now.”

Me: - “Okay, Ma.”

I hopped out, heading to the house, but I knew what Manoj meant. That wetness between her thighs—the way he’d rubbed her pussy in the car, his fingers lingering, tasting her pussy juices, that is what he meant. 

She didn’t want me to hear, but I’d seen it all, pretending to sleep. I unlocked the door and stepped inside, leaving it ajar, my mind racing.


Mom lingered by the car a moment, then followed me in, her heels clacking unevenly. We’d eaten heavy snacks at the party—samosas, pakoras, sweets—so she didn’t need to cook. 


She muttered something about washing up and headed straight for the bathroom, her curiosity piqued by Manoj’s strange comment. 


I trailed behind, quiet, drawn by my own mix of confusion and unease.
She slipped into the bathroom and locked the door with a soft click. I crept closer, my socks silent on the floor, and pressed my ear to the wood, peeking through the tiny keyhole. 

Mom stood there, her breathing quick, and yanked the tight dress up over her hips, revealing her milky thighs that were wet with her pussy juices. 

The creamy fabric bunched at her waist, revealing her smooth, golden thighs—and there it was, a faint, glistening wetness between them. Her fingers brushed her pussy which was shaved, and her eyes widened, a flush creeping up her neck. 

She clapped a hand over her mouth, stifling a gasp, her face twisting with embarrassment.
She knew now—Manoj’s fingers had stirred something in her sleep, coaxing that womanly pussy release from her. Her religious heart recoiled; this was unforgivable, a betrayal of her vows, her purity. 

She parted her thighs slightly, checking again, her fingers trembling as they traced the slickness of her pussy. Her breath hitched, shame and realization crashing over her. 

That manoj was actually rubbing and fingering her pussy the whole ride. This was a shocker to my mom.


She turned on the faucet, splashing water on her face, then stripped the dress off completely, letting it fall to the tiles. 

Her body—38-inch bust, 34-inch waist, 44-inch ass—glowed in the dim light, curves full and soft, but her expression was tight, conflicted.


She stepped into the shower, the water hissing as it hit her skin, washing away the night’s corrupt traces of her juices. Her hair clung to her shoulders, wet and heavy, and she scrubbed her thighs, her movements quick, almost frantic, as if she could erase what had happened. 

I pulled back from the keyhole, my chest tight, and slipped to my room, the image of her—beautiful, vulnerable, ashamed—burning in my mind.

Even for myself, I couldn't believe I was watching my mom naked in the bathroom, those breasts, those flat tummy, her shaved pussy, her blessed milky thighs and those magnificent two pieces of ass globes.


What is happening to me? I'm I fantasizing of Manoj, the stranger who just met my mom, fucking my mom? Him using my mom's body? And will this happen? 

Will my mom fall into Manoj's temptations or will she try her best and go back to her religious ways?



Stay tuned guys! Hope you are following the story....

[Uvaaaa]

Awesome

[Saikarthik]

Excellent updates

[sexypreeti]

Awesome story buddy 

Just do something about the pictures you embedded, not a single one loaded... so could not visualize the text mentioned next to them...

[Rajeev Gupta]

‎

‎Mom stepped out of the bathroom, her hair damp and tucked into a loose bun, her nightgown flowing modestly over her curves—hiding the 38-inch bust, 34-inch waist, and 44-inch ass that had been so exposed earlier.

‎

‎I was just telling myself that if Manoj got to taste the whole package of my mom's body, then he will be satisfied fully.

‎

‎But again I cursed myself to think wrongly in that manner because I always knew that sex is only between woman and man who are married.

‎

‎The shower had washed away the night’s traces of her corruption, but her eyes held a flicker of unease, a shadow of what she’d discovered.

‎

‎She paused at my doorway, her voice soft but steady.

‎

‎

‎Mom: - “Sanjay, goodnight, beta. Sleep well, okay?”

‎

‎Me: - “Goodnight, Ma. You too.”

‎

‎Mom: - “And… Sanjay, don’t tell your dad about tonight. It’s just our little thing, just remember that me kissing Manoj was a sign of me showing friendship ok?—nothing he needs to worry about.”

‎

‎Me: - “Okay, Ma. I won’t.”

‎

‎Mom: - “Good boy. Rest now.”

‎

‎

‎She offered a faint smile, keeping it simple, shielding me from the adult weight of the night.

‎

‎Then she turned, her slippers whispering across the floor, and headed to her bedroom.

‎

‎The door clicked shut, the lock sliding into place with a soft scbang.

‎

‎

‎I lay in bed, the car ride flickering in my mind—her thighs, Manoj’s fingers rubbing her pure tight pussy, that wetness—but I pushed it aside, drifting into a restless haze.

‎

‎

‎In her room, Mom sat on the bed’s edge, the phone’s glow casting shadows on her face.

‎

‎She hesitated, then dialed Shalini, setting it on loudspeaker. The ring cut through the silence, and Shalini’s voice burst in, lively and teasing.

‎

‎

‎Shalini: - “Rekha! Finally—why’d you bolt early? I looked everywhere for you!”

‎

‎Mom: - “Shalini, it was too much. I felt dizzy, out of place—had to leave.”

‎

‎Shalini: - “Dizzy? What happened? Don’t tell me you just sat there all night!”

‎

‎Mom: - “No, it… got complicated. I couldn’t stay—too many people, too loud music”

‎

‎Shalini: - “Complicated how? Come on, Rekha—give me something juicy!”

‎

‎Mom: - “It’s not like that, Shalini. Where were you? I needed you, and you vanished.”

‎

‎Shalini: - “Me? Oh, I was… occupied. Having a little fun in the bathroom, you know, with a friend. Getting my pussy fucked”

‎

‎Mom: - “What? Pu....? Bathroom? With a friend? Shalini, what do you mean?”

‎

‎Shalini: - “Just what it sounds like—a quick fuck. Nothing heavy, just enjoying myself.”

‎

‎Mom: - “A fuck? Shalini—you’re married! Who was it?”

‎

‎Shalini: - “Rakesh, my long time fuck partner. Ravi’s away, so I took a chance—pure fun.”

‎

‎Mom: - “Fun? That’s unfaithful—how could you do that to Ravi, your holy husband?”

‎

‎Shalini: - “Unfaithful’s a big word, Rekha. It’s not serious—just a quick sex moment. No one’s hurt.”

‎

‎Mom: - “But it’s wrong! Breaking vows like that—what if Ravi finds out?”

‎

‎Shalini: - “He won’t. H is out of town for a day. I’m careful—bathroom’s discreet, Rakesh won’t talk. It’s under control.”

‎

‎Mom: - “Careful? Shalini, someone could’ve seen you—then what?”

‎

‎

‎Shalini: - “No one did. I know how to play it—phone’s locked, lips sealed. Ravi’s clueless. Ihave been doing it for 6 years now with Rakesh and my husband Ravi has never found out."

‎

‎Mom: - “Gosh! Six years? I can’t believe you’re so calm. It’s reckless—sinful!”

‎

‎Shalini: - “Sinful? Oh, Rekha, lighten up—having fun isn’t a sin. It’s living! You should try it. We can't just have one dick of our husbands for the rest of our lives. We need to spice up a bit.”

‎

‎Mom: - “Try it? No, Shalini—that’s not me. I don’t see it like that. I will never do such a thing to my husband even if he is away”

‎

‎Shalini: - “You’re too strict on yourself. Tell me—did you at least meet a man tonight?”

‎

‎Mom: - “A man? Well… yes, I did. His name’s Manoj. I don't like him though.”

‎

‎Shalini: - “Manoj? Ooh, now we’re talking! Who is he? Spill it, Rekha!”

‎

‎Mom: - “He’s older—maybe 55. Drove us home, kept talking, flirting. Too much, really. I told him I am married but he won't listen”

‎

‎

‎Shalini: - “Flirting is normal Rekha. Love that! What’d he do—give me the details!”

‎

‎Mom: - “He… he danced with me, got close—too close. Then he kissed me, Shalini. I cursed myself to let him. I can't explain how it happened. I was so quick but too long.”

‎

‎Shalini: - “Kissed you?! Rekha, you vixen! I told you that spicing up is the way to go. How was it—hot, wild?”

‎

‎Mom: - “No, I was just dizzy. I pushed him off—it didn’t feel right, not with my husband Amit away.”

‎

‎Shalini: - “Didn’t feel right? Why not? Sounds like a dream to me! Why didn't you take him to your place and get him to fuck you?”

‎

‎Mom: - “Because I’m married! I can’t—it’s a sin. I need to do puja, cleanse this guilt.”

‎

‎Shalini: - “Puja? Spare me, Rekha—religion’s just a guilt trap. Everyone sins, it’s normal! When it comes to having fun, don't put religious matters into it. In fact, every married woman does it. You know Priya, Hareeta, Sangeetha?”

‎

‎

‎Mom: - "Yes, I know them, what did they do?"

‎

‎Shalini:- "They all get fucked outside their marriage by other men"

‎

‎Mom: - “Not normal for me. I feel dirty—there’s more, Shalini, something I’m hiding.”

‎

‎

‎

‎Shalini: - “Hiding? Oh, you’ve got me hooked—what’s the big secret?”

‎

‎Mom: - “In the car… I woke up with wetness between my thighs. And you know my private part was wet too. Manoj said something odd about it.”

‎

‎Shalini: - “Wetness? Rekha, what?! You mean your juices? Tell me everything!”

‎

‎Mom: - “Yes—juices. He told me to check the bathroom, said I’d find something nice there.”

‎

‎Shalini: - “Nice? Oh my God—he was rubbing you, wasn’t he? That’s why you were wet! He was rubbing your pussy"

‎

‎Mom: - “Rubbing me? Shalini, no—I was asleep! How could that happen?”

‎

‎Shalini: - “Easy, Rekha—he teased your pussy, got you going. Sleep just let your juices flow.”

‎

‎Mom: - “Flow? While I was asleep? That’s… impossible!”

‎

‎Shalini: - “Not impossible—natural. Your body reacted, awake or not. Manoj knew the trick.”

‎

‎Mom: - “Natural? It’s filthy—I feel so wrong, Shalini. I need puja to fix this.”

‎

‎Shalini: - “Puja’s a waste—why cleanse something good? You enjoyed it, deep down.”

‎

‎Mom: - “Enjoyed? No—I’m ashamed. It’s a betrayal of Amit.”

‎

‎Shalini: - “Betrayal’s a big word. It’s just a thrill—own it, Rekha, don’t run to prayers. You need Manoj to fulfill your desires, not prayers Rekha, wake up”

‎

‎Mom: - “I can’t own this. But… Manoj texted me right now, he wants to come over.”

‎

‎Shalini: - “Come over? Yes, Rekha, invite him! Perfect chance to let loose!”

‎

‎Mom: - “No, Shalini—I can’t. What if something happens? It’s too risky.”

‎

‎Shalini: - “Risk’s the fun! He’s into you—let him in, see what sparks fly. You are religious right? Then inviting a friend over is what a religious person does”

‎

‎Mom: - “You’re filthy, pushing me like this! What if it goes wrong?”

‎

‎Shalini: - “Wrong? It’ll go right—those breasts, that ass—he’d worship you. Don’t waste it!”

‎

‎Mom: - “Shalini! That’s shocking—what are you saying?”

‎

‎Shalini: - “Truth, Rekha—your body’s begging for it while Amit’s gone. Let Manoj work it. Why should you let your big breasts and your massive ass go to waist?”

‎

‎Mom: - “You devil—I can’t believe you! Maybe… half yes, half no. I’ll think. I will see but if he tries it this time, I will chase him out of my house”

‎

‎Shalini: - (laughing) “Half yes is progress! I am sure you will not chase him once he rubs your pussy again. Trust me! Call him, temptress—night!”

‎

‎Mom: - “Goodnight, you filthy thing. You are such a naughty friend "

‎

‎Mom hung up, her breath shaky, the phone slipping to the mattress. She sat there, torn—her faith pulling her to penance, Shalini’s words luring her into something wilder.

‎

‎

‎The night’s secrets pressed heavy, her mind a storm of guilt and curiosity.

‎

‎
Next part is coming soon! Give me your thoughts guys or what you want to see. Although this is a real story, I can add few of your suggestions earlier on!

[Asli lund]

Super

[Rocky@handsome]

Nice update, Please can you add gifs or videos..it will surely be much more interesting ❤️

[Uvaaaa]

Super update

[Saikarthik]

Superb update waiting for the bang

[Rajeev Gupta]

Mom locked her bedroom door behind her, the soft click reverberating in the stillness of our house. I couldn’t sleep, the night’s events—Manoj’s roaming hands, the dampness between her thighs, Shalini’s provocative words—churning in my mind like a restless storm. 


A strange pull tugged me out of bed, my socks silent on the floor as I crept toward her room. A sliver of light glowed under her door, and I pressed my ear against it, peering through the keyhole with a mix of curiosity and unease.


Inside, Mom sat on the edge of her bed, her nightgown hiked up past her knees, revealing the smooth, golden skin of her thighs. Her hand rested there, inches from her clean shaven thirsty pussy, a private warmth I’d never seen her touch before. 

Her fingers began to move—slow, tentative circles at first, then bolder, rubbing with a quiet urgency. She was horny, a raw, pulsing need etched into her quickening breaths and half-closed eyes. 

Manoj had left her in this state—his touch in the car, his kiss on the dance floor, had ignited a fire she couldn’t douse. I knew she was somehow thinking about this all the time while she was rubbing her pussy. 

Her 38-inch bust heaved with each shallow gasp, her 34-inch waist curved softly, and her big moti ass pressed into the mattress, shifting as she sought relief. 

It was clear she wanted her pussy to be fucked so hard, a release to quench the thirst he’d stirred.
She reached for her phone, and my heart skipped, expecting her to call Manoj, to invite him back to finish what he’d started. 

But instead, she tapped Dad’s name, launching a video call. 

The screen flickered to life, and his tired face appeared, I re adjusted my positioning from the window so that I could see dad's face in mom's phone, lit by the harsh glow of his Dubai apartment. 

I stayed hidden, shocked, watching as her hand lingered near her pussy, her horny restlessness spilling into the call, her body a live wire of need.

Dad: - “Rekha? It’s the middle of the night there—what’s going on? Why’re you calling me now?”

Mom: - “Amit, I couldn’t wait—I’m so horny, I needed to hear your voice. I’m burning up without you. My tiny pussy is twitching, clenching, I want it now baby, I want your dick inside my pussy”

Dad: - “Horny? Rekha, you look… different—flushed, restless. What’s gotten into you tonight? What is going on?”

Mom: - “I’m missing you so much—it’s unbearable. I’m touching myself, Amit—my pussy’s aching for you.”

Her voice trembled with desperation, and I saw her fingers press harder, rubbing her pussy through the thin nightgown. A soft moan slipped out, her 38-inch bust rising sharply, her hand grazing her breast then sliding back down.

I couldn't understand what is going on with my mom this night. Is this all because Manoj has turned her to thirst for a dick just because he kissed her and rubbed her pussy in the car while she was asleep? 


Dad’s eyes widened, his confusion plain across the screen.


Dad: - “Touching yourself? Rekha, what’s that sound—those moans? Are you alright, jaan? What’s happening over there?”

Mom: - “I’m fine—just so damn horny, Amit. It’s been too long, and I can’t stop. Talk to me—please, I need you. It has been two months since you fucked me my love”

Dad: - “I’ve never heard you like this before—you’re scaring me, Rekha. You’re always so calm, so pure—what’s changed?”

Mom: - “Don’t ask questions—just help me, Amit. Speak filthy to me, quench this fire. I want you to talk dirty to me on the phone until I cum. Let's us do phone sex right now. NO more questions my love. I’m begging you—make me feel you.”

I froze, my breath catching—shocked like Dad. My pure, religious Mom, who lit diyas every morning, now horny and demanding filth? 

My mom and dad never did phone sex before. So I don't know where my mom got this idea from. Maybe from Shalini? But I am not certain because I never heard Shalini talk to her about this idea of phone sex.

Her hand kneaded her breast, fingers circling her pussy, her eyes locked on Dad’s stunned face. Through the window, I watched her body shift, her 44-inch ass grinding slightly against the bed, the nightgown riding higher to expose more of her thighs. 

The image clashed with everything I knew—her prayers, her modesty—replaced by this raw, thirsty woman I didn’t recognize.


Dad: - “Filthy? Rekha, I can’t—you’re my wife, not some… I don’t know how to say those things!”

Mom: - “Don’t you dare hold back—I’m dying here, Amit! Call me a dirty slut—say it, make me feel alive!”

Dad: - “A dirty slut? Rekha, please—behave yourself! I’ve never seen you this wild—what’s wrong with you tonight? You are supposed to be religious”

Mom: - “Wrong? I’m thirsty, that’s what’s wrong! Been alone too long, and I need you to fuck me with your words—do it!”

Dad’s face twisted, torn between shock and love. She’d always had a hold over him, and now, her rude urgency bent him to her will. He exhaled, his voice shaky but yielding.


Dad: - “Alright, jaan—I’ll try, for you. I’d start with your neck—kissing it slow, sucking till you shiver, tasting every bit of you.”

Mom: - “Oh, Amit… yes, that’s it—keep going, don’t stop now, I’m feeling you already.”

Dad: - “Then your shoulders—I’d bite them gentle, trail my tongue down, feel your skin heat up under me, driving me crazy.”

Mom: - “Mmm… crazy—yes, I love that. More, Amit—give me more, I’m so horny for you.”





Her fingers pressed her breast harder, kneading the soft flesh, then slid back to her pussy, rubbing with a steady rhythm. Her moans grew louder—sweet, needy hums that filled the room. Her 34-inch waist twisted slightly, her plump ass shifting as she arched into her touch. 

I couldn’t believe it—my Mom, so thirsty, lost in this primal need, her body begging for what Manoj had awakened and Dad now fed.


Dad: - “Down your chest—I’d linger on those breasts, Rekha, kissing them, teasing them till you’re gasping, knowing how much I want you.”

Mom: - “Oh… gasping—yes, I’m yours, Amit. Tell me how bad you want me—make it filthy.”

Dad: - “So bad, jaan—I’d suck those nipples, squeeze you tight, then slide lower, kissing your waist, your hips, worshipping every curve.”

Mom: - “Worship me—oh, I feel it, Amit. Lower—don’t tease me, take me there. Oohh yesss I can feel my pussy vibrating just listening to your words my love oooh go on”

Her hand moved faster, fingers circling her pussy, her breaths ragged. Dad’s voice deepened, still hesitant but caught in her pull, his confusion giving way to a reluctant heat. My mom didn't really want to call dad, but she called him because she wanted to do away with thinking about Manoj and removing the thirst Manoj brought to her.


Dad: - “Your thighs, Rekha—I’d spread them wide, kiss inside, deep and slow, tasting you, driving you wild till you’re begging me.”

Mom: - “Begging—yes, I’m begging now! Deeper, Amit—tell me what you’d do, I’m so close.”

Dad: - “I’d take you, jaan—push my cock inside your pussy, pound you hard, fill you up till you’re screaming my name.”

Mom: - “Oh… fuck, Amit—hard, yes! I’m… I’m there—don’t stop, I’m cumming!”

He caught her gasps, guiding her through the peak.

Dad: - “Cum for me, Rekha—let it all out, scream if you want, I’m with you, pounding you deep—are you there?”

Mom: - “Yes—oh, fuck, Amit! I’m cumming—oh God, yes—harder… oh!”

Her body tensed, her hand trembling against her pussy, and she gasped out broken words—“Oh… fuck… Amit… yes!”—sharp, desperate, a release that shook her whole frame. Her pussy splashed out juices and she orgasmed and she even wetted the bed with her pussy juices.


Her 38-inch bust heaved, her face flushed red, her enormous ass lifting off the bed as she shuddered, waves of pleasure crashing through her. She sank back, panting, her hand falling limp, the nightgown tangled around her hips.


Dad: - “You satisfied now, Rekha? That was… intense—my heart’s racing over here. This is the first time I have ever done this phone sex thing”

Mom: - “Yes, Amit… so satisfied—thank you, love. I needed you so bad tonight.”

Dad: - “I’m glad, jaan—love you more than anything. But why’re you like this? This isn’t my Rekha—what’s going on?”

Mom: - “Love you too—just missing you, Amit. Been so horny without you, that’s all—I couldn’t hold it in. I don't know where this feeling of thirst is coming from but don't worry”

Dad: - “Missing me this much? You’re different—wilder than I’ve ever seen. My religious Rekha, acting like this?”

Mom: - “I know—it’s strange for me too. Just lonely, thirsty—when’re you back, Amit? I need you here. I just don't know what is going on with me”


I wish dad knew what was going on with my mom. She was acting like this because there is another man who is causing her to act filthy like this. 

That man is non other than Manoj, she met him for the first time and here she is in horny mode because he kissed her and rubbed her pussy earlier on.

Dad: - “Three months, jaan—still a while. Can’t rush it, but I hate leaving you like this.”

Mom: - “Three months? Too damn long—my pussy’s gonna ache till then, Amit! You have a small dick but I want that small dick in me”

Dad: - “Cmon Rekha, stop saying I have a small dick. Even if it is small, you love it. You’re strong, Rekha—my religious beauty. You can wait, keep that faith you love.”

Mom: - “Faith? I can’t wait with this horny fire burning me up—I’m not that strong right now!”

Dad: - “You are, jaan—I know you. I’ll find a way, come sooner—I can’t let my gorgeous wife suffer like this.”

Mom: - “You better, Amit—I’m counting on you. Love you—need you so much.”

Dad: - “Love you too, Rekha—more than words. Night, jaan—dream of me.”

She kissed the phone, a loud smack, and hung up, her face softening into a satisfied smile—content, dreamy, a woman quenched for now. 

After she hung up, she told herself in whispering voice, "Ooh my love Amit, the truth is that your dick never satisfies me but I miss it"

I didn't believe my mom was talking like this. I never saw my dad's dick but I believe what she is telling herself. Maybe dad had a small dick but I don't know since I never sneaked in to watch them having sex.


Her eyes fluttered shut, her breath evening out as sleep claimed her, her body still in the afterglow. But I knew—Manoj’s touch, not Dad’s voice, had sparked this thirst, a secret she’d buried in her lies.


I pulled back from the keyhole, my heart pounding, my mind reeling. Through that tiny view, I’d seen her hand slow, then fall to her side, her nightgown tangled high, exposing her thighs—smooth, damp, marked by her release. 

Her 38-inch bust settled with each deep breath, her 34-inch waist a gentle curve, her 44-inch ass pressing into the mattress, a silent testament to her need. 

She’d been horny—raw, pulsing, a fire Manoj had lit with his hands in the car, his kiss on the dance floor. Dad’s words had carried her over, but the root was deeper, darker.


I crept back to my room, shocked like Dad had been. My pure Mom—always in sarees, chanting mantras—now horny and rude, her hands on her pussy, demanding filth? I didn’t believe she could burn like this, her thirst so fierce it broke her gentle shell. 

Dad’s confusion echoed mine—her religious core clashed with this wildness, and she’d hidden Manoj, blaming it on loneliness. But I saw it—his fingers, his boldness, had cracked something in her, unleashing a hunger she couldn’t name or confess.


The house fell still, her soft snores filtering through the wall. She slept with that smile, satisfied for now, but the night’s shadow lingered. Three months until Dad returned—her horny thirst would simmer, fed by a stranger’s touch she wouldn’t admit. 

I lay in bed, the image of her—beautiful, conflicted, undone—burning in my mind, a secret I’d keep locked tight, a weight I didn’t fully understand.

However, I was ready to find out how it will go between Manoj and my mom. But what I knew is that Manoj has very well influenced my mom's sexual desire in an indirect way.



To be continued..........

Friends, will Manoj fuck my mom? What will happen next? Stay tuned and send in your comments.

[Saikarthik]

Slowly taking out her sexual desire nice one
Hope he changes her and slowly she finds and like how men are seeing her during prayers in temples and in neighbourhood