Adultery Whispers of Lust: My Mom's Forbidden Path

[mzafar]

If Rekha wants to make her son Sanjay and husband Amit cuckold then the story is going in the right direction. I am impressed by your story writing skills. Waiting for the next update.

[Xossiy]

What an update bro keep it up

[wxxxx]

I am impressed by your writing, I am waiting for your update.

[Uvaaaa]

Nice update

[vishal1516]

Bro plz give longer updates nice story

[Sanjay Sen]

very very interesting    looking for the next update 

[Rajeev Gupta]

The doorbell’s sharp ring pierced the air, signaling Dad’s return, but I froze, my hand still on my pants, my cock throbbing from watching Mom—Rekha—upstairs. I was in a dilemma, should I continue watching my mom's asshole being fucked raw or should I go and open the door for dad?

But if I open the door then it would mean that I would be opening the door for their divorce.

Her fat ass jiggled with each of Manoj’s thrusts, his cock buried deep in her asshole, a place meant for shitting, not fucking. 








My holy mother, who prayed daily, was being sodomized for the first time, her fat thighs wiggling, her bare pussy exposed and her asshole being stretched to the limit. I didn’t want to face Dad, to see his trusting eyes while Mom moaned in sin. 

Instead, I crept back upstairs, drawn to the keyhole, my heart pounding with shame and curiosity, my breath catching as Mom’s loud moans of pleasure filled the bedroom. My dad kept ringing the door bell and I didn't care to open.

I returned to my position at the keyhole to watch my Manoj continue fucking my mom's asshole so hard that he even began sweating. The sweat on his back and forehead confirmed to me that he was really an alpha male with strength for fucking a woman's asshole.



Inside, the bed shook, its wooden frame groaning under their rhythm, the headboard tapping the wall like a heartbeat. Mom’s body rocked, her big boobs swaying under the dress, her nipples hard against the fabric, her fat ass quivering as Manoj pounded her. 







She arched her back, her fingers clawing the sheets, her toes curling into the mattress, her moans a mix of surrender and ecstasy, her hips pushing back to meet his thrusts. 


Was my mom enjoying being fucked in her asshole? The forbidden hole? Why was she moaning and yet she was having sex with another man? Is she that level of a slut? How did Shalini know this? How did she know my mom was such a slut who was just covered in religious matters?


Sweat glistened on her skin, rolling down her spine, pooling in the dip of her lower back. Manoj leaned in, his tongue tracing her neck, licking the salty sweat, then dragging along her back, savoring her taste. I could see his dick was deeper in her anus, making more way in her asshole. So filthy.



He was shameless, fucking another man’s wife, his hands gripping her big ass, his eyes gleaming with triumph. He was lucky—too lucky—to use Mom’s asshole, a sacred woman’s forbidden place, fucking what Dad cherished.







Manoj spoke, his voice blending romantic sweetness with filthy slurs, teasing her as he thrust deeper.

Manoj: Rekha, my darling, your asshole is a fucking dream, sucking me in like a whore. You’re so beautiful, my sweet slut. Feel how deep I’m loving you, bitch.

Mom: OHH… Manoj, please, it’s too much! I’m not a whore, but… this feeling, it’s overwhelming! You’ve corrupted me, made me sin like this! Oohhh I can't believe I am doing this oooh oohh ssshhhhh ooooohh aaaaahhhh

Manoj: You’re my goddess, Rekha, even if you’re a filthy slut. Your ass is pure magic, darling. Let it love me back, my precious whore. Push that fat ass of your back on me, let my dick go deeper in your asshole.

I was shocked, my stomach twisting—Mom was moaning in pleasure, her body betraying her holy claims. She tossed her hair, her lips parted, her eyes half-closed in a haze of ecstasy, her hips grinding against Manoj, her ass cheeks clapping softly. 


Her pleasure was undeniable, her moans louder, her body alive with sin. Shalini’s words flashed once: “All women are sluts inside.” Mom was proving it, her pious mask shattered, her asshole opening up, welcoming Manoj’s cock.








Manoj’s thrusts grew bolder, the bed’s creaks mixing with the faint hum of a the TV through the wall, the room heavy with the scent of sweat and oil and the filthy smell of mom's asshole.


He spoke again, his voice dripping with filth, focused on her asshole.

Manoj: Rekha, your asshole’s sucking my dick so deep, like it’s hungry for it. It’s fucking gripping me, darling. This tight hole’s made for my cock, isn’t it?


Mom: OHH… I don’t know, Manoj! It feels so strange, so full! I didn’t want this, but… my body’s doing things I can’t control! I am beginning to like this but.....aaaaahhhhh don't push further please.. aaahhhh

Manoj: That’s it, my sweet. Your asshole’s a fucking vacuum, pulling me in. You’re built for this, Rekha, even if you deny it.

Mom’s asshole was opening, the rim stretching wide, slick with oil, her flesh yielding as Manoj’s cock slid in and out, her moans punctuating each thrust. 

The bed shook harder, a glass of water on the nightstand trembling, threatening to spill. A curtain fluttered from a cracked window, letting in a whiff of jasmine from the garden, clashing with the room’s musky heat. 


Manoj held her fat ass, his fingers sinking into the jiggly flesh, pounding her with steady force, her cheeks rippling like waves on a stormy sea.


Mom’s moans turned to a desperate edge, and she blamed Manoj, her voice thick with pleasure and guilt.

Mom: OHH… Manoj, you’ve ruined me! You pushed me into this sin, made me feel this filthy pleasure! I was a good wife, a pure mother, and now I’m… this! I don't feel like I am a good wife... oooohh ah ah ah ah

Manoj: Ruined? You’re thriving, my darling slut. You are my slut from now on. Don't be religious, just be my whore only. I just woke up what was sleeping inside you, Rekha. Your body’s thanking me, fucking loving every inch of my cock. Now my cock deeper in your filthy asshole.

Mom: No, aahhh aahhh ooohhhh you corrupted my soul! I wanted to stay holy, to honor my husband Amit, but you dragged me into this shame! These feelings… they’re wrong, but I can’t stop them!

Manoj: Shame? You’re a fucking queen, Rekha, taking my dick like a pro. I’m just giving you what you were born for, sweetheart. Moan louder, let it all out. Moan loud as I fuck your big gaand.

Mom’s body shuddered, her asshole now loose, accepting him fully, the rim glistening, her moans a symphony of conflicted pleasure. She shifted, wincing, and pleaded to adjust her position, her voice strained.


Mom: OHH… Manoj, please, let me adjust my bending! This angle hurts, it’s too deep! I need to move a little, ease the pain!

Manoj: Adjust, darling? Why’s it hurting now? I thought you were liking it, my cock is already deep, no need to change the position. Is it the angle or my cock stretching you too much? Tell me, my sweet.

Mom: It’s the angle, Manoj! My hips are cramping, the pain’s sharp! Please, let me shift, I can’t stay like this! Your penis is so big, it hurts more in this angle and position aaahhhhh!

Manoj: Alright, my love, move however you need. Find the spot that feels right. But keep that ass open for me, Rekha. Don't remove my dick from your asshole.

Mom: Thank you… yes, this position’s better. It’s less painful now. Just… keep going slow, please. Keep going but don't push hard, the pain will be sharp.

Manoj: Perfect, darling. Is this how you want it, bent just like this? You’re so fucking gorgeous, Rekha.


I didn't believe my mom was telling Manoj to continue fucking her asshole. Why is mom behaving like a bitch?


Mom adjusted, raising her hips slightly, her knees spreading wider, her ass cheeks parting naturally, her asshole more accessible. Actually my didn't know but this angle actually made Manoj's dick go deeper in her asshole, it was the worst preference she chose.


Manoj resumed, his cock sliding smoothly, her moans softer but still laced with pleasure. 







The doorbell rang again, sharper, insistent, and I panicked, my heart racing. I ran downstairs, terrified Dad would discover Mom’s sin, certain today he’d divorce her, our family shattered. 


My hands shook, my breath ragged, as I reached the door, the tension a vise around my chest. I opened it, and Dad stood there, his face tired but puzzled, his briefcase in hand, a faint curry scent clinging to his coat from lunch.

Dad: Hello Sanjay, why didn’t you open the door sooner? I knocked like a thousand times, son. Were you asleep or something?

Me: Uh… no, Dad, I was… in the bathroom. Sorry, I didn’t hear you. I came as fast as I could.

Dad stepped inside, sniffing the air, his brow furrowing. The house smelled odd—musky, like sweat and something filthy, mixed with Mom’s and Manoj's perfume lingering in the hall.

Dad: Why’s the house smelling so funny, Sanjay? It’s not the usual clean scent. What’s that… heavy odor?

Me: Funny? Um… I don’t know, Dad. Maybe it’s… the curry Mom was cooking earlier? You know she cooks really tasty food maybe today she added more spice

Dad: Curry and spice? No, it’s… earthier, like something’s off. Did someone spill something?

I nearly fainted, my legs wobbling, certain he’d sense Mom’s betrayal. Today might be the day my dad knows that his wife is pleasing another man inside his bedroom. 

The smell was Manoj’s sweat, Mom’s body, their sin seeping through the house. Dad noticed a torn scarf on the couch—Mom’s, ripped by Manoj weeks ago—its silk frayed, and a single high heel under the table, its strap broken. His eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering.

Dad: That scarf’s torn, and… a broken shoe? What’s going on here, Sanjay?

Me: Oh, that… Mom was… cleaning, and stuff got messed up. It’s nothing, Dad.

I couldn’t believe Dad was in the house while Mom was upstairs, her asshole fucked by Manoj, their thumping bed a secret I held. My stomach churned; I’d just betrayed Mom’s orders not to tell Dad where she was or that Manoj was here.

Dad: Where’s your mom, Sanjay? She’s usually down here cooking by now.

Me: Uh… she’s… upstairs, Dad. Probably… resting or something.

Dad: Resting? She’s not sick, is she? You’re stammering, son. I hope she is not sick or something.

Me: No, she’s fine! I just… uummm....I’m a bit cold, that’s all.

I shook, my palms sweaty, and Dad sat on the sofa, his eyes scanning the room. He called upstairs, his voice loud. I knew dad knew that the house today was somehow not in the normal state.

Dad: Rekha! Come down, love! I’m home!

No reply came—the bedroom’s thick walls and Manoj's and Mom's sex drowned out his voice. Dad looked confused, looking at me.

Dad: Why’s she not answering, Sanjay? Is she okay up there? 

Me: She’s… probably asleep, Dad. She was tired earlier. Maybe she didn’t hear you.

Dad: Asleep? Well I don't know! And You’re sweating, son, but you said you’re cold. Or did you play so hard today?

Me: It’s… just the cold, Dad. I’m fine, really. Maybe I’m coming down with something.

My lies were crumbling, my face hot, sweat beading on my forehead. A faint thumping drifted from upstairs, the bed’s rhythm, Mom’s muffled moans barely audible. Dad’s head tilted, his eyes sharpening.

I was sweating for the fear of two things. One, that my dad will know the true colors of my mom and secondly, my dad will divorce my mom today and that will be the end of their love life.

Then a faint thump from upstairs were heard, it was quick sharp thumping and thuds.


Dad: What’s that noise, Sanjay? Is your mom moving furniture or something? Why’s there thumping?

Me: Oh, that? Mom’s… probably rearranging her closet. She mentioned cleaning up there.

Dad: Rearranging? I thought you said she was sleeping? Sounds louder than that. Well, whatever, I feel thirsty. Go get me some water, son.

I bolted to the kitchen, my heart hammering, fear clawing at me like a trapped animal. I was terrified Dad would climb the stairs, see Mom’s bare ass, Manoj’s cock in her asshole, and end our family. 

In the kitchen, I froze because I saw Mom’s phone lay on the counter, the screen glowing with a penis picture, Manoj’s cock, sent via WhatsApp. 







I scrolled, my hands trembling, and saw their earlier chats—filthy messages, Manoj’s demands, Mom’s reluctant replies. If Dad had come here, he’d have seen it, the truth exposed. I shoved the phone into a drawer, my pulse racing, and grabbed a glass of water.

Dad: Sanjay! Why’re you taking so long? It’s just water, son!

Me: Sorry, Dad! I… dropped the glass, had to clean it up. Here’s the water!

I ran back, handing him the glass, my hands shaking. The thumping grew louder, Mom’s screams faint but unmistakable, and Dad’s brow furrowed again.

Dad: Why’s your mom screaming, Sanjay? That’s not cleaning—it sounds like she’s hurt.

Me: Uh… maybe she saw a spider, Dad. She hates those. I’m sure she’s fine.

Dad: A spider? That’s a lot of noise for a bug. I’m going upstairs to check.

Panic surged, my vision blurring—Dad was moving toward the stairs, his steps heavy, and I knew the truth was seconds away from exploding









Whoooaa! Guys! Is my dad finally going to see my mom being fucked in her asshole by Manoj?

[Mahendra_]

Wwooow the best update ever! Your stories are addicting! Please update often.

[Xossiy]

No no don't do this this is the real spic . Don't seen by dad what happened in the bedroom

[Uvaaaa]

Super update

[Rajeev Gupta]

The air in the house was thick with tension, the faint musk of sweat and sin lingering like a ghost as Dad’s heavy footsteps started up the stairs. 


My heart hammered, my palms slick with sweat, certain he’d burst into the bedroom and see Mom—Rekha—her fat ass spread, Manoj’s cock buried in her asshole, the ultimate betrayal of his holy wife. 


The torn scarf on the couch, the broken high heel under the table, the earthy odor Dad had noticed—they were clues piling up, threatening to unravel everything. 

I couldn’t let him see her like this, couldn’t let our family shatter. My voice cracked as I called out, desperation clawing at me.

Me: Dad, wait! I’ll go get Mom! She’s… probably still cleaning. You don’t need to go up!

Dad: Alright, Sanjay. Hurry up, though—I’m starving, and this house feels off tonight. I’ll wait in the sitting room.

Dad turned, his footsteps retreating to the sofa, the creak of the cushions a small relief. I bolted upstairs, my legs trembling, the staircase seeming to stretch endlessly, each step a thudding echo of my fear. 

The hallway was dim, lit only by a flickering bulb, casting shadows that danced like spect in the cracked mirror above the landing. 

As I neared Mom’s bedroom door, her screams hit me like a punch—raw, erotic, laced with pleasure: “OOOH, YES, YES, FUCK MY ASSHOLE!” 

My stomach lurched, shock rooting me to the spot. Mom, the woman who lit incense every morning, who dbangd sarees modestly for temple visits, was moaning like a porn star, using “fuck” with abandon. 

I’d known she was slipping—her bare pussy under the satin dress, the butt plug, her lies about Manoj—but this? Her voice dripped with lust, her holy facade obliterated. 

I’d tested her with my “ass” question, and her weak lie had hinted at her sluttiness, but hearing her beg for her asshole to be fucked by the pervert Manoj shattered every illusion. 

She wasn’t just trapped; she was reveling in it, her filthy asshole craving Manoj’s cock, her moans a siren’s call to sin. My chest tightened, betrayal and fascination warring within me, my cock twitching despite my horror.

I pressed my eye to the keyhole, the brass cold against my skin, and saw Manoj fucking her rapidly, his hips a blur, his cock pistoning in and out of her asshole with relentless force. 






The pace was ferocious, each thrust a wet slap, her ass cheeks rippling like storm-tossed waves, the bed’s frame shuddering, its legs scbanging the floor. Ooh her poor asshole is being ravaged.

Her asshole stretched wide, the rim glistening with oil, red and puckered from the abuse, juices leaking down her thighs. 

The rapid fucking made her boobs bounce wildly under the dress, her nipples stabbing the fabric, her hair a sweaty tangle whipping across her back. I never imagined the mom who I knew and taught me good manners was doing the worst sin on her marriage bedroom with another man.


Mom’s hands clawed the sheets, tearing the cotton, her knees buckling, her body lurching forward with each thrust, her moans a crescendo of ecstasy.


Manoj spoke, his voice a twisted blend of romantic sweetness and filthy slurs, his hands gripping her hips, sweat beading on his brow.

Manoj: Rekha, my darling, your ass is a fucking whore’s dream, so tight and greedy. You’re my sweet slut, loving this cock, aren’t you? Tell me you love it, my precious bitch.

Mom: OHHH! MANOJ, IT’S TOO MUCH! I… I can’t believe I’m feeling this! Why are you doing this to me?

Manoj: You like it, don’t you, my love? Your asshole’s sucking me dry, you filthy goddess. Why’s it gripping me so hard, Rekha?

Mom: I… yes, a little, but it’s wrong! Why do you keep asking me these shameful things? I’m not supposed to feel this way! Aaahhh ooohhhhhhh

Manoj: Because you’re a slut under that holy mask, darling. Is your pussy wet from this, Rekha? Is it dripping for my cock in your ass?

Mom: Stop it, Manoj! Why do you say such disgusting things? I’m… I’m not like that, I swear!







The room reeked, a filthy stench of sweat, oil, and something rawer—Mom’s asshole, its musky, earthy odor lurking in the air, seeping into the hallway. 

It was unmistakable, the scent of her spoilt asshole, mingling with her perfume, a sickening blend that clung to my throat. 

I knocked on the door, my fist trembling, and saw Mom’s head snap up, her eyes wide with shock, her body pausing mid-moan. But Manoj didn’t stop, his cock still buried deep in her nasty asshole, his thrusts slowing but relentless, a smug grin on his face.

Me: Mom! Dad’s home! He’s downstairs and wants to see you now!

Mom: Sanjay?! Oh God, where is he? Is he coming up here?

Me: He’s in the sitting room, Mom, but he’s asking questions! Hurry, please!  What are you doing mom? Did Manoj not finish the massage?

Mom’s hands flew to her mouth, muffling a gasp, her face pale, her boobs heaving as she whispered to Manoj, her voice frantic. She didn't know what to do and things were going really fast. Could this be the last time my mom and dad will see each other after they divorce?

Mom: Manoj, what am I going to do? My husband Amit is here—he’ll divorce me if he finds us! Please, we have to stop!

Manoj: Relax, my sweet. He’s downstairs, clueless. Just keep that ass open, and we’ll finish quick.

Mom: No, Manoj, are you out of your mind? You don’t understand! My marriage, my son—everything’s at stake! Why don’t you care? This is risky please enough of this aaahhh aooooohhhhh

Manoj didn’t care, his eyes gleaming with defiance, his hands caressing her ass as he gave slow, deliberate pushes, his cock sliding in and out, savoring her asshole’s grip. 

His thrusts were measured, almost taunting, the bed creaking softly, a stark contrast to the earlier frenzy. Mom’s body trembled, her ass cheeks quivering, her face a mix of terror and unwilling pleasure, her asshole stretched around his shaft, juices dripping onto the sheets.


I knocked again, harder, my voice shaking, my eyes darting behind me to check for Dad’s shadow on the stairs. I was afraid if he would climb the stairs again. Tension coiled in my gut, a cold sweat soaking my shirt, every second a ticking bomb.

Me: Mom, please! Dad’s waiting—he really wants to see you! Come out now! He is coming upstairs

Mom pushed against Manoj, her hands shoving his chest, her legs kicking to dislodge him, her voice a desperate hiss.

Mom: Manoj, stop it! Don't ruin my marriage.  My husband Amit is downstairs—we can’t keep going! Please, just stop for a minute! Aaahhhh ooohhh shit remove your dick please oooohh Manoj please this is risky.

Manoj: Stop? My darling, your ass is too fucking good to quit now. Why’re you panicking? He’s not coming up.

Mom: You’re ruining my life! I need to go to him, or he’ll suspect something! Why are you so reckless? I can't afford to let him see what I am doing

Manoj: Reckless? I’m giving you what you crave, you slutty goddess. Let’s finish, then you can play the good wife. Open your asscheeks more you slut

Mom: Aaahhh oooooooohh ssshitt aaaahh!!! No, Manoj, I’m begging you—pull out, just for a minute! I can’t face Amit like this! Please, have some mercy!

Manoj sighed, his grin fading, and slowly withdrew his cock, the shaft slick with oil and juices. 

Mom shouted in relief, “AAHH!” her body collapsing onto the bed, her asshole gaping wide, a dark, stretched hole, red and raw, leaking a mix of oil and her body’s fluids. It was dirty.

I couldn’t believe how gaped it was—her asshole, once tight, now a cavern, the rim swollen, unable to close. The butt plug had loosened her, but Manoj’s relentless fucking had ruined it, transforming her into a slut. 



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All sluts take it up the ass, I thought, Shalini’s words echoing faintly, and Mom was one now, her holy vows meaningless, her body marked by sin.

Mom sat up, her face etched with worry, her hands wringing, the room’s stench overwhelming, her asshole’s odor tainting everything.

Mom: Manoj, this room smells awful! My husband Amit will notice—it’s so embarrassing! What do we do? I feel scared!

Manoj: It’s your ass, darling, making this place a fucking whorehouse. Smells like heaven to me, you filthy slut.

Mom: Don’t say that! It’s disgusting, and Amit’s downstairs! Hide! Hide! Hide now please, before you ruin everything!

Manoj: Hide? Gimme my trousers first, my sweet. Can’t run around with my cock out, can I?

Mom: Trousers? What for? Manoj please stop this nonsense! Why didn’t you keep them close? You’re impossible, Manoj!

Manoj: You were too busy moaning, darling. Grab ’em from the floor, quick.

Mom stood, her fat ass swaying as she crossed the room, the cheeks jiggling with each step, her bare pussy glistening under the dress. Manoj’s eyes devoured her, his gaze hungry, lingering on her fat ass. Her boobs, full and heavy, bounced slightly, the satin clinging to their perfect shape, the nipples still hard, a testament to her body’s betrayal.













She snatched the trousers from the corner, tossing them to him, and Manoj rummaged in the pocket, pulling out a small packet of white powder. Mom froze, her eyes narrowing, confusion etching her face.

Mom: What’s that powder, Manoj? Why do you have it? What are you planning?

Manoj: Don’t worry, my love. If Amit comes up, mix this in his juice—it’ll keep him calm. You want him out of the way, don’t you? You want me to continue fucking your asshole right?

Mom: No! I’m not drugging my husband! You are going to far Manoj! I cannot drug my husband and I don't know what that powder is. What is that stuff? Tell me, Manoj!

Manoj: It’s just a little relaxant, darling. He’ll sleep, we’ll finish, no drama. Trust me, you need this, you slutty queen. I know you want me to continue fucking your asshole while he passes out near you, right?

Mom: I won’t do it! You’re insane—poisoning my husband Amit? How dare you even suggest it! Get in the closet now and hide, I can't do this nonsense Please Manoj stop trying to ruin my holy marriage. I am a married woman, not an evil woman, I can't do this to my husband.

Manoj: Listen Rekha, It’s harmless, my sweet. You want your marriage safe? This keeps him clueless. Or you want him seeing your gaped ass? Do you want him to know that you are a true slut who had taken my dick in your pussy and sweet asshole?

Mom: Stop it, Manoj! I can’t believe you’d ask this! You’re destroying everything I care about!

Manoj: Destroying? I’m saving your ass, literally. Take it, Rekha—do it for us, you filthy goddess. Pour a glass of juice for him and mix this powder in it, he will pass out then we will fuck near him.

Mom’s hands shook, her eyes darting to the door, then back to the powder. She didn't have a choice, perhaps a portion of Manoj's evil words was making sense to her.

She snatched it reluctantly, her face twisted with disgust, not wanting to comply but cornered by fear. Manoj smirked, tucking the trousers under his arm. I could not believe what my mom just did. Did she just accept the evil words and suggestions of Manoj? Woow!!

I knocked again, my fists pounding, my voice cracking, the hallway’s stench choking me, my eyes scanning the stairs for Dad’s silhouette.

Me: Mom, come out! Dad’s getting impatient! Please, hurry!

Mom spun, her voice sharp, her boobs swaying as she pointed at Manoj.

Mom: Manoj, hide now! Don’t ruin my marriage—you’ve done enough damage! Get in the closet, quick!

Manoj: Relax, darling. I’ll hide, but only if you give me a kiss first. One sweet kiss, my slutty love.

Mom: A kiss? Now? You’re shameless, Manoj! Move, or I’ll scream for Amit!

Manoj: If you scream that is when you will ruin everything. No kiss, no hiding. C’mon, Rekha, those lips are begging for me. Make it quick, you whore.

Mom’s face flushed with anger, her eyes blazing, but she was naked, her dress barely covering her, her gaped asshole leaking. I was shocked as she stormed to him, her hands grabbing his head, and kissed him passionately, her lips crashing into his, their mouths intertwining, tongues dancing in a wet, desperate embrace. 







I thought she loved his lips, despite his bad stinky breath, the faint reek of saliva and lust. Manoj’s hand slid between her sweaty asscheeks, his middle finger probing her asshole, pushing in deep. Mom jolted, her body tensing, a muffled moan escaping their locked lips, her hips twitching as his finger invaded her raw, gaped hole.

She didn't want his middle finger around her already sore asshole.


Her ass swayed left and right, trying to dislodge his finger, but it was buried deep, wiggling inside, stretching her asshole further. She pushed against his chest, her nails digging in, trying to move away, her boobs pressed against him, but Manoj held her tight, his other hand gripping her neck, forcing the kiss. 


Mom’s moans turned to whimpers, her legs trembling, her body caught between resistance and the overwhelming sensation in her asshole. She bit his lip, hard, and twisted her head, breaking the kiss with a gasp, her lips swollen, her face flushed. How could this two illegal love birds be doing this while my dad is at home downstairs.

Mom: Manoj, your breath stinks! Stop this—I can’t breathe! Why are you so disgusting?

Manoj: Stinks? You love it, darling, you kissed me like a hungry slut. That’s the taste of your ass on my lips, my sweet.

Mom: No, I don’t! You’re vile, Manoj! Hide, now, or my marriage is ending today move please.

Manoj: Alright, my love, I’m going. I wish I destroy your marriage ooh my love. But you felt that kiss, didn’t you? Your ass is still mine, you whore.

Mom shoved him toward the closet, her hands pushing his chest, her boobs bouncing with the effort. Manoj resisted playfully, dragging his feet, grinning as she struggled. She opened the closet door, its hinges squeaking, and pushed him inside, her strength fueled by panic.

Manoj: I’m in, darling. Don’t forget—mix that powder in Amit’s juice. And Rekha, I’m not done fucking your asshole, you slutty queen.

Mom: Shut up, Manoj! Stay quiet, or you’ll destroy my life! I’m locking you in—don’t make a sound!

Manoj: Lock me up, my sweet, but you’ll beg for my cock again. That gaped ass needs me. Make sure Amit drinks it, or you are fucked.

Mom slammed the closet door, twisting the key, her hands shaking, the white powder packet clutched in her fist, her eyes darting to the door. 

She looked at it, then at the closet, her face a storm of fear and resentment, her gaped asshole a constant reminder of her fall. I knocked again, my voice a desperate shout, my heart pounding, the hallway’s stench suffocating, Dad’s presence downstairs a ticking clock.


Me: Mom, please! Dad’s waiting! Come out now, or he’ll come up!

Mom: I’m coming, Sanjay! Just… give me a second, baby! I’m on my way!

[Krishna11]

Super update

[Xossiy]

Bro update

[Uvaaaa]

Nice update

[Rajeev Gupta]

I scrambled up the stairs after I checked on dad at the sitting room again, my sneakers squeaking on the polished wood, the hallway’s air thick with that filthy odor—Mom’s asshole, raw and unmistakable, mixed with her jasmine perfume, a perverse clash that burned my nose. 

A moth fluttered against the bulb, its wings casting frantic shadows, as I reached the bedroom door and knocked, my fists trembling, my voice a strained whisper.

Me: Mom, hurry! Dad’s downstairs, he’s waiting! Please, come out now!

Through the keyhole, I saw Mom, still naked, her panties and Manoj's trouser and shirt on the floor, her fat ass shaking as she darted to the cupboard, her cheeks jiggling like ripe fruit in a storm. 

Her boobs bounced, heavy and perfect, the nipples dark and hard, her skin glistening with sweat. She grabbed a glass and a bottle of orange juice, her hands shaking as she fumbled with the white powder Manoj had given her, pouring it into the juice and stirring frantically with a spoon, the liquid swirling with faint, sinister flecks. 


I was shocked—Mom, the woman who kissed Dad’s forehead every morning, was following Manoj’s evil orders, drugging her husband to hide her sin. She was whorish, her naked body a traitor, her actions a betrayal so vile I never thought she’d stoop this low. 


To poison Dad, to protect her lover’s cock in her asshole, was a wickedness that shattered my image of her piety. Her ass faced me, plump and quivering, and I couldn’t believe it had just been sodomized, its gaped hole hidden but marked by Manoj’s relentless fucking.







He was lucky—too lucky—to have fucked that ass, a holy woman’s forbidden place, and only his cum inside her asshole remained to complete her degradation.

Anger surged, my fists clenching—how could she do this to Dad, to our family? Yet, a dark thrill pulsed in my veins, my cock twitching at her cheating, her obedience to Manoj’s illegal orders. 

I hated her for it, but I was happy, shamefully captivated by her sluttiness, her bare ass a magnet drawing my gaze, her evil act a twisted proof of her fall. 

Mom stirred the juice faster, the spoon clinking, her ass swaying, her boobs trembling, the powder dissolving into a murky haze, her face set with grim determination, a whore’s resolve to save her secret.

Footsteps echoed—Dad was coming up again, his voice calling, “Rekha, where are you?” I spun away from the keyhole, pretending to adjust my shoe, my heart racing as he appeared at the top of the stairs, his tie loosened, a puzzled frown on his face.

Dad: Sanjay, where’s your mom? You said she was coming down. This house is giving me the creeps tonight.

Me: She’s… inside, Dad, just finishing up. She’ll be out any second, I swear.

Dad: Rekha! Love, come on out—I’m home! What’s taking so long? Ooh that smell coming from this hallway is really....I don't know

Mom: Amit, my love, I’m coming, darling! Just… getting ready for you! Give me a moment, please!

Dad: Ready? You sound out of breath, Rekha. Everything okay up there?

Mom: Oh, absolutely, my love! I was just… tidying up, got a bit sweaty. I’ll be right there with a surprise for you! Give me a sec!

Dad: A surprise? You’re full of mysteries tonight, Rekha. Alright, I’ll wait, but don’t keep me hanging too long.

Mom: Don’t worry, Amit, it’s worth it! I’ve got something special just for you. Just… relax , okay?

Dad chuckled, his face softening, too stupid to suspect, his trust in Mom blinding him to the stench, the thumping, her screams. Humming an old Bollywood tune, oblivious to the closet hiding Manoj. 

Mom opened the bedroom door, the juice glass in hand, her naked body glistening, her boobs full and heavy, her pussy barely hidden by the dress she’d hastily dbangd over her hips. 

Dad froze, his eyes widening, drinking in her beauty, her sweat-slick skin glowing under the hallway light. I saw her too, her body a sinful masterpiece, her boobs perfect, her curves a lure, and my cock twitched again, shame burning my cheeks. This is the body Manoj just ate few minutes ago!






Dad didn’t know another man was inside, his cock fresh from her asshole.

Dad: Sanjay, go downstairs, son. I don’t want you seeing your mom like this. Give us some privacy, alright?

Me: Uh… sure, Dad. I’ll… wait in the kitchen. Call if you need me.

I pretended to walk away, my footsteps loud, but doubled back as they locked the door with a click, the sound a knife to my heart. I crept to the keyhole, my breath shallow, and peered inside. Dad stood, stunned, his eyes darting around the room, the musky stench hitting him like a wave.

Dad: Rekha, why’s the room smelling so odd? It’s like… something heavy, not your usual lavender. And why are you naked, love?

Mom: Oh, Amit, it’s just… I spilled some oil while massaging my back, it’s got a strong scent. I’m naked because I wanted to surprise you, darling. I’ve been thinking about you all day, wanting to make tonight special. You know since you were away for all those months, my pussy has been thirsty, I want to make it a surprise!

Dad: A surprise? You’re sweating buckets, Rekha—what’s got you so worked up? And I heard screaming earlier, I don't understand.

Mom: Sweating? Just from rushing around to make everything perfect for you, my love. The screaming was… me getting excited about tonight, silly. I was practicing a little dance for you, got carried away.

Dad: A dance? And that thumping I heard? Sounded like the bed was about to break. What’s going on, Rekha?

Mom: Thumping? Oh, that was me moving some furniture to set the mood, darling. I wanted the room just right for us. Stop asking so many questions—look at me, I’m naked for you!

Dad: You were never like this before, Rekha. You’re… different tonight, so bold. I can't believe you are talking so dirty. And... What’s that glass of juice about?

Mom: I just missed you, Amit, wanted to spice things up. The juice is for you, to refresh you after work. Drink it, and let’s have some fun, naughty boy.

Dad: Spice things up? You’re usually so… religious, Rekha. This is new, but… damn, you look incredible.

Mom: I’m still your good wife, Amit, just feeling a bit wild for you tonight. I thought you’d like seeing me like this. Let’s enjoy it, stop overthinking, my love. I want you to fuck me so hard!

Mom’s eyes flicked to the closet, to make sure the closet is closed while Manoj was inside. A secret glance, her smile tight, her boobs heaving as she leaned closer to Dad, her hand brushing his arm. 

The closet’s wooden slats hid Manoj, but her gaze betrayed her fear, her fingers twitching around the juice glass. She was playing a dangerous game, her nakedness a distraction, her flirtation a shield to distract my dad. She was really good in distracting dad with her naked body.

Mom: Amit, sit down, darling. Drink this juice—it’s nice and cold, just for you. Let’s relax together, my love.

Dad: Juice? You’re really going all out, Rekha. This isn’t like you, but… alright, I’ll take it.

Mom: Good my love, drink up. I want you feeling perfect tonight. Look at me, aren’t I worth it?

Dad sipped, still confused, his eyes scanning the room—a crumpled sheet, a stray hairpin on the floor, the oil bottle’s cap loose on the nightstand. 

Mom flirted harder, her voice sultry, her boobs swaying as she leaned in, her hand grazing his thigh, desperate to keep his focus on her.

Dad: Rekha, before we start, I need my documents from the bottom closet. Got a meeting tomorrow, can’t wait. I’ll just grab them quick.

Mom: No, Amit, stay here! Those can wait, darling—look at me, I’m naked for you. Let’s have some fun first, my love. I want you to fuck me hard, my pussy is thirsty and so tight for you my love, I was waiting for this.

Dad: I can't beliee you are using the words "fuck", Rekha what has gotten into you today? I appreciate it, but I really need those papers. Why’re you so insistent?

Mom: Insistent? I just want you, Amit, all to myself tonight. Forget the documents—let me make you feel good.

Mom’s hand slid to his crotch, teasing his dick over his trousers, her fingers deft, her boobs brushing his chest as she unbuttoned his shirt, her sweat mingling with his. Dad’s eyes widened, his breath hitching, confusion deepening. Mom did all this just to prevent him from reaching the closet.

Dad: Rekha, why’re you acting like this? Naked, touching me like that—you’re never this… forward. What’s gotten into you?

Mom: Oh, Amit, I just want to make you relax, darling. I’ve been thinking about you, wanting to please you. Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted, a naughty wife?

Dad: Naughty? You’re religious, Rekha, always so proper. This is… exciting, but strange. You’ve never been this wild.

Mom: Wild? I’m still your wife, Amit, just showing you how much I love you. Let me take care of you tonight, forget everything else.


Mom caressed his chest, her fingers tracing his skin, her boobs swaying, her smile forced but seductive, desperate to mask the room’s stench, the closet’s secret. She was evil, her slutty replies a facade, her hand guiding the juice glass to his lips. What a real slut my mom is!

Mom: Drink more, Amit. It’ll cool you down, make you feel amazing. Let’s make tonight unforgettable, darling.

Dad: Unforgettable? You’re something else tonight, Rekha. Alright, here’s to you, love. I don't know why you changed this much

Dad drank deeply, unaware, the juice was mixed with an unknown sinister powder, and Mom’s smile turned wicked, her eyes glinting with relief, her boobs heaving as she watched him swallow Manoj’s drug. 

She was evil, orchestrating this betrayal while another man hid, her husband a pawn in her whore’s game. The drug worked fast—within five minutes, Dad’s eyes drooped, his head lolling, his speech slurring.

Dad: Rekha… I feel… dizzy. What’s in this juice? I’m… so tired all of a sudden.

Mom: Oh, darling, you’re just exhausted from work. Close your eyes, rest a bit. I’ll take care of you, my love.

Dad: Tired… yeah, maybe… but this is… weird. You’re… so beautiful, Rekha. Why’s everything spinning? I ...I...who is that man....in...the....clo...clos...cl..ooh my head ....


My mom's eyes darted behind at the closet. The closet was still closed but maybe dad saw someone inside but he was not sure.

Mom: Shh, Amit, just relax. No one is here. You are just tired. Let sleep take you, darling. Just sleep ok! I’m right here, making everything perfect.

Mom removed his shirt, her hands swift, her boobs brushing his chest, her eyes darting to the closet again, a flicker of fear beneath her evil smile. She urged him to lie down, her voice soothing, craving his slumber to hide her sin.

Mom: Sleep, Amit, just for a bit. You need rest, darling. I’ll be here when you wake, I promise.

Dad: Sleep… yeah, okay, Rekha. You’re… too good to me. Love you… so much…

Dad: But… that smell… still there… what is it? And… why’re you… so sweaty?

Mom: It’s nothing, my love, just the oil I used. I’m sweaty from… wanting you so bad. Close your eyes, darling, dream of me. Close your eyes and sleep my love.

Dad’s speech slurred, his head sinking into the pillow, his body limp, the drug pulling him under. Mom’s eyes locked on him, her smile fading, her boobs heaving with each breath, her hand clutching the empty glass. 

A whisper came from the closet—Manoj’s voice, low and mocking. Mom went to the closet to open it. Mom’s face twisted with anger, her fingers fumbling with the closet key, the lock clicking open. 

Manoj lunged out of the closet, grabbing her naked body, his lips crashing into hers in a passionate kiss, his hands squeezing her fat ass, fingers digging into the sweaty cheeks, pressing her against him. 





Her boobs flattened against his chest, her gaped asshole brushing his thigh, her body trembling with rage and fear.

Mom: Mmmmmmwwahh mmmmmm.....Manoj, stop! Amit’s right there—I’m terrified he’ll wake up! Why are you so reckless?

Manoj: That bastard’s out cold, darling. He won’t wake for hours, my sweet slut. Let me fuck your asshole right here, with him snoring like a fool.

Mom: No, Manoj, we should go to Sanjay’s room! It’s safer, away from Amit! Please, don’t do this here!

Manoj: Sanjay’s room? Fuck that, Rekha—I want your asshole with your husband right there. It’s hotter, you whore, knowing he’s clueless while I ruin you.

Mom: You’re insane! I won’t let you destroy my marriage like this! Amit’s too close—it’s too dangerous!

Manoj: Dangerous? That’s the thrill, darling. Your ass is mine, and I’ll fuck it where I want, you slutty queen.

Mom relented, her eyes darting to Dad’s sleeping form, his chest rising and falling, his face slack, a stupid pawn in her evil game. She felt no remorse, her agreement a silent betrayal, her gaped asshole a badge of her sluttiness. 

Manoj pulled her to the bed’s edge, bending her over, her fat ass raised, her boobs dangling, her face inches from Dad’s sleeping body. Her eyes locked on him, fear and defiance mixing, her hands trembling as she gripped the sheets.

Mom: Manoj, I feel so slutty doing this here. It’s wrong, with Amit right there! How did I become this… this whore?

Manoj: You’re a fucking masterpiece, Rekha, a slut born to take my cock. Your asshole’s begging for me, darling, even with your husband passed out. Spread those cheeks, you filthy goddess.

Mom: Please, Manoj, not here! Amit might wake—he’ll see us! I’m begging you, don’t make me do this!

Manoj: See us? That loser’s dead to the world, my sweet. Spread your ass, Rekha, let me fuck you like the whore you are.

To prove it, Manoj moved towards my passed out Dad, Manoj's foot nudging Dad’s face, a cruel kick on dad's face, he kicked dad's face then a harder kick, sending Dad rolling off the bed with a thud, his body limp on the floor. 

Manoj laughed, a guttural cackle, his eyes gleaming with disrespect.

Manoj: See, Rekha? That’s proof—he’s fucking gone, you slut. Your husband’s a pathetic bastard, sleeping through his wife’s ass-fucking.

Mom: Manoj… oh God, how could you? But… he didn’t wake. I can’t believe this is happening!

Manoj: Believe it, darling. Now get on the bed, bend over, you filthy whore. I’m fucking your ass right now, with him right there down snoring like a bastard while I fuck his treasure wife.

Mom: This is so wrong, Manoj. You’ve turned me into something evil. I… I can’t stop you, can I?

Manoj: Evil? You’re fucking perfect, Rekha, a slutty queen for my cock. Spread those cheeks, darling, let’s make this bed shake.

Mom climbed onto the bed, her eyes fixed on Dad’s crumpled form, no remorse in her gaze, her evil nature bare. She spread her asscheeks, her gaped asshole winking, slick with juices, and Manoj positioned his cock, the tip nudging her raw rim. 







She screamed, loud and piercing, as he entered her asshole, the sound echoing over Dad’s snores, her body lurching forward.

Mom: AAAHHH! MANOJ, IT’S TOO MUCH! NOT HERE, PLEASE!

Manoj: Fuck, Rekha, you’re so slutty, screaming while your husband’s out cold. Your asshole’s sucking me in, darling, you filthy whore. This is fucking perfect, you slutty queen

[Krishna11]

Super update

[Hot mom lover]

Excellent bro.don't stop this fabulous story in mid path. Please keep going. We want more nasty anal sex with mom big ass. And add some drugs like weed smoking, cocaine snort, alcohol, etc

[vishal1516]

Bro add some dirty kinky stuff also

[Uvaaaa]

Excellent update

[aravindkkumar08]

Why don't a try a story between Shalini and Sanjay. May be in later