Adultery Whispers of Lust: My Mom's Forbidden Path

[Rajeev Gupta]

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

Thank you! And nasty stuff will definitely feature in the next few updates!

[Rajeev Gupta]

Bro add some dirty kinky stuff also

Alright! Give me few kinky stuffs on your mind

[Rajeev Gupta]

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

Let us see in the next updates! Stay tuned!

[Dabbusanga]

Let us see in the next updates! Stay tuned!

This will ruin the story. Let her start enjoying with manoj and either start her angle with any of manoj's friend which would initially be forced but ends in guilty pleasure or with rakesh( shalini's fuck buddy)

[Rajeev Gupta]

The bedroom was a crucible of sin, its air saturated with the rancid, earthy stench of Mom’s asshole, a dirty odor that clawed at my throat, mingling with the sour reek of Manoj’s sweat and the faint, dirty sweetness of a cracked jasmine candle on the dresser, its wax pooling like tears. 


Dad lay crumpled on the floor, his drugged snores a guttural drone, his cheek smeared with dust from Manoj’s cruel kick, a half-spilled glass of orange juice beside him, its sticky residue glinting in the dim light. 

My mom screamed, “AAAHHH! MANOJ, IT’S TOO MUCH!” as Manoj pushed his cock deeper into her asshole, the tip stretching her gaped, red rim, slick with oil and her body’s juices. 

Her naked body shimmered with sweat, her fat ass raised on the bed’s edge, the cheeks quivering like storm-tossed dunes, her big boobs dangling, nipples hard as polished agates, rivulets of perspiration tracing the curves of her spine, pooling in the hollow above her ass.

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Manoj’s cock pressed forward, and Mom’s asshole opened wider, the rim parting like a velvet curtain, soft and pliant from the butt plug’s earlier stretching, now yielding to his thick shaft, the flesh trembling as it engulfed him inch by inch. 


Mom's cute asshole rim was red, swollen, glistening with oil, a delicate pink star transformed into a loose, hungry maw, its edges pulsing with each thrust. Her asshole was opening wider and wider as Manoj's dick dug deeper in her asshole.


Manoj’s hands gripped her hips, his fingers sinking into the jiggly flesh, his eyes gleaming with predatory lust as he spoke, his voice a twisted blend of romance and filth.


Manoj: Rekha, my darling, your asshole feels like a fucking paradise, so warm and tight, you slutty queen. It’s sucking my cock like it was born for it, my sweet whore. Push back, love, let this precious hole take me deeper.

Mom: OOH YESS, MANOJ! It’s… so overwhelming, I can’t control this feeling! Why does it feel so strong, you disgusting beast ooohh ooohhh Manooojjj ooooooh eeeeeeeee aaii aiii aaii eeeeehh ooooh please yes yes oh oh dd slowly dear please do it slowly

Manoj: Shut up my slut! I see you’re a filthy goddess, Rekha, built for my cock, darling. Your ass is a treasure, gripping me like a lover, you bitch. Move those hips, make it sing for me, my precious slut. You were religious earlier but now a slut

Mom pushed back, her ass cheeks spreading wider, the flesh parting to reveal her gaped asshole, her knees digging into the mattress, the bed’s springs creaking like a ship in a gale. Woow my mom was being such a slut.


Her hips rocked, a slow, deliberate grind, and Manoj’s cock slid deeper, three-quarters of its length now buried, the glistening shaft stretching her rim to its limit, juices leaking down her thighs, soaking the sheets in a dark, shameful stain. 


I couldn’t believe this was my Mom—the woman who braided her hair with jasmine flowers, who whispered prayers at dawn—her holy body a whore’s playground, her asshole yielding to Manoj’s cock, her moans a betrayal of everything sacred. 

She wasn’t the pious mother I’d known; she was a slut, her face contorted in ecstasy, sweat matting her hair, her lips parted, spilling words like “OOH YESS, FUCK ME!” that seared my soul. 

Manoj held her fat ass, his hands kneading the flesh like dough, pounding deeper, each thrust a wet, resonant slap, her cheeks rippling like waves crashing on a jagged shore. 

Mom didn’t deny it anymore; she moaned, her voice a siren’s wail, “OOH YESS, MANOJ, FUCK MY ASSHOLE HARDER! I don't care from now onwards, I am a real slut you made me a slut and now  let me be a good slut” the words dripping with lust, her body alive with forbidden pleasure.

I stood at the keyhole, my hand in my pants, rubbing my dick, a perverse thrill surging through me like a wildfire. I was angry with myself for rubbing my dick while seeing my mom being assfucked by another man. 

What kind of a son am I? What kind of a son sees his mom being fucked in her fat ass and he rubs his dick while continuing to watch? What am I doing? But I couldn't control myself. 



Dad’s passed-out body, sprawled inches from Mom’s sodomized ass, made it unbearably erotic—his wife, his holy treasure, fucked in her dirtiest hole while he lay oblivious, a drugged fool. 





I didn’t feel bad; I felt good, my cock throbbing as I stroked, the betrayal a dark symphony that set my blood ablaze. Mom’s sluttiness, her moans, Manoj’s cock plunging into her asshole—it was wrong, vile, but I loved it, my hand moving faster, my breath ragged, my shame drowned by the intoxicating sight. 

The intensity of how Manoj dick ravaging mom's asshole made it certain that my mom's asshole was so much loose by now. It was not tighter anymore!


I didn’t pity Dad; I envied Manoj, his luck in claiming Mom’s precious asshole, a forbidden jewel he hadn’t yet filled with his cum. To be honest, every body in our neighborhood, especially the bigger married men, have always dreamt of fucking my mom in the ass.

I am sure if they were told to divorce their wives to marry my mom so that the can fuck my mom's asshole, then I am sure and gurantee that they would have divorced their wives.

But this night, Manoj was a very very very luck man to fuck this big ass of my mom.



The room’s filth was suffocating, the asshole smell of my mom now laced with a sour, metallic tang, as if the bed’s iron frame were sweating in protest. 







A shattered perfume vial on the dresser leaked rosewater, its sweetness warring with the room’s depravity, while a neighbor’s wind chimes tinkled faintly, a mocking contrast to Mom’s screams. 

During the doggystyle anal, Manoj’s hands roamed, slapping her ass, the cracks echoing like thunder, her cheeks blooming red, his fingers twisting her hair, yanking her head back, her boobs bouncing wildly, sweat flying like diamonds in the lamplight.

I didn't ever imagine my pious mom would be reduce to this filthy slutty woman being fucked in the asshole so hard.


Manoj leaned closer, his voice thick with desire, probing her pleasure.

Manoj: Rekha, my sweet slut, how’s my cock fucking your asshole? Is it filling you like a whore deserves, you filthy darling? Tell me how it feels, you precious bitch. Do you feel like a whore?

Mom: OOH YESS, MANOJ! It’s… so deep, it’s driving me crazy! Why’s my body loving this when it’s so shameful. You turned me into another woman totally different.

Manoj: Because you’re my slutty queen, Rekha, made for this, my love. Your ass is singing for my cock, darling. Let it scream louder, you whore.

He spoke again, comparing her holes, his thrusts unrelenting, the bed shuddering, its legs scbanging the floor, a porcelain figurine on the nightstand wobbling, threatening to topple.

Manoj: Rekha, your asshole’s sweeter than your pussy, darling, so fucking tight and warm, you slut. It’s gripping me better than any cunt could, my precious whore. Why’s your ass so perfect for my cock, you filthy goddess?

Mom: OOH YESS, MANOJ, STOP THAT! Don’t compare them—it’s disgusting, humiliating! Why do you say such vile things, you monster?Aaahh hhhh ssshh ooh ooh ooohh Manooojjj!!

Manoj: Because your ass is a fucking masterpiece, Rekha, outshining your pussy’s wet grip, my love. It’s sucking me dry, you naughty slut. You crave this hole fucked, don’t you?

Mom: NO, I DON’T! It’s… overwhelming, but my body’s betraying me! You’re forcing me to feel this, you beast!

Manoj pushed her forward, her body shifting, her face now hovering over Dad’s passed-out form, his snores a pitiful hum, a streak of drool on his chin glinting in the lamplight. Her boobs shook, swaying like ripe fruit in a monsoon, her fat ass jiggling with each thrust, sweat cascading down her back, pooling in the dip above her ass, her skin gleaming like polished copper.



Manoj: Look at your husband, Rekha, you slutty darling. He’s a fucking pathetic loser, snoring while I fuck your asshole, my sweet. Tell me you love betraying him, you whore.

Mom: OOH YESS, NO, MANOJ! I can’t… I won’t say that! I love my husband Amit, I swear!

Manoj: Don’t lie, my precious bitch. Your asshole is being broken by my cock—say it, or I’ll ram you harder, you slut. Do you love cheating on this useless bastard?

Manoj forced her, his hand gripping her hair, twisting it until she winced, his cock slamming deeper, her asshole stretching wider, her screams melting into whimpers. Mom’s face crumpled, her resistance shattering, her voice a broken sob.

Mom: OOH YESS… YES, I LOVE BETRAYING HIM! I’m a filthy whore, Manoj, I can’t help it! Why did you make me admit this? OOohhhhhh

Manoj: Because it’s the truth, my darling slut. Does it feel good, fucking me with him right there? Are you my whore forever, Rekha?

Mom: YES, IT FEELS SO GOOD! I’m… your whore, God forgive me! I hate you for this, but my body won’t stop!

Manoj: That’s my girl, you filthy queen. Now tell your husband you’re sorry for being a bitch and whore. Scream it, darling, let his sleeping ass hear your shame.

Mom: OOH YESS, AMIT, I’M SORRY! I’M A BITCH, A WHORE! I DIDN’T WANT THIS, BUT I LOVE IT! Please Manoj stop just stop aahhhhh I can't be doing this ooooohh please easy on my asshole please!

Manoj: Louder, you slutty love. Tell him your asshole’s mine now, you filthy bitch. Make him feel your betrayal, even in his drugged haze. 

Mom: AMIT, I’M SORRY! MY ASSHOLE’S HIS, I’M A WHORE! I’M LOST IN THIS SIN, AND I CAN’T ESCAPE!

Mom’s breasts shook violently, her nipples scbanging the sheets, her fat ass jiggling like a storm-tossed sea, sweat dripping onto the floor, mingling with Dad’s spilled juice. Her asshole was loose, a yawning chasm, like a velvet glove stretched beyond repair, no longer the tight star it once was, its rim red and swollen, leaking juices in a slow, shameful trickle. 

I wondered why Manoj chose that dirty hole, where women shit, a place of waste, not for pleasure. It was disgusting—Manoj was disgusting for craving it, his cock defiling Mom’s precious asshole, a sacred, intimate part of her holy body, meant for private functions like shitting, not this perverse violation. 

But now his cock was deeper in that precious but filthy hole that was for shitting. Ever since my mom became pious, she only knew the place for sex was pussy but not asshole. However, now, her asshole is being opened to the furthest distance.

Yet I loved it, my dick throbbing as I rubbed it with my hands, the taboo fueling my arousal, the filth of her asshole-fucking a dark thrill. Her asshole was tiny, a delicate pink jewel hidden between her fat cheeks, so hard to reach, its plump flesh a barrier, yet Manoj had conquered it, his cock claiming that precious hole. 

A woman’s asshole, like Mom’s, was precious—intimate, forbidden, a secret only the boldest could possess, its tightness a rare trophy, its violation a mark of ultimate dominance, a testament to her fall from grace.

Manoj fucked her rapidly, his cock a glistening blur, coated in her juices. His dick was now coated with a brown, yellowish paste-like substance, spreading with each thrust, a warm, sticky coating I didn’t understand, my youth blinding me to its origin. 

The rapid pace sent her ass cheeks clapping, the sound a rhythmic drum, her boobs bouncing, sweat flying, the bed’s frame groaning, a rusted nail in the headboard glinting as it shook loose. 







A tattered prayer shawl, Mom’s keepsake from a pilgrimage, lay trampled on the floor, its silk threads catching the lamplight, a silent judge of her sin. The room’s stench grew, the asshole odor now laced with the brown paste’s sour, acrid edge, a neighbor’s incense drifting through a cracked window, its sandalwood notes a futile protest against the house’s corruption.

Manoj noticed the brown substance, his eyes narrowing, his voice clever but pointed, masking the truth with a sly tone.

Manoj: Rekha, my darling, your ass is leaving a special mark on my cock, you slutty queen. It’s coating me with this warm, thick paste, my sweet. Didn’t think your precious hole would gift me something so… unique.

Mom: OOH YESS, MANOJ, YOU FOOL! Aaahhhh! I told you if you fuck my ass like that then it was bound to get messy! You ignored my warnings, you filthy pig, now deal with it!

Manoj: Messy? Your ass is a fucking artist, darling, painting my cock with its secrets, you whore. You love this dirty gift, don’t you, my naughty love?

Mom: NO, I DON’T! It’s gross, and it’s your fault for pushing so hard! Why do you make everything so vile, Manoj?


Manoj leaned in, his thrusts unrelenting, and reminded her of her complicity, his voice a taunting mix of accusation and lust.


Manoj: Rekha, my sweet slut, you wanted this when you drugged your husband, you filthy darling. You poured that powder in his juice, you whore, to keep him out while I fuck your ass. Admit it, you craved this betrayal, my precious bitch.

Mom: OOH YESS, NO, MANOJ! I didn’t want this—I was forced, you monster! I drugged him to save my marriage, not to become your slut!

Manoj: Save your marriage? You’re moaning like a whore, darling, with his cock in your ass, you slutty queen. You chose this, Rekha, and your ass loves it, my naughty love.

Mom: I HATE YOU FOR THIS! I did it to protect Amit and Sanjay, not to enjoy it! Why do you twist everything, you vile man? Aahhh ahhhhhh 

The bed shook harder, its legs clawing at the floor, a chipped teacup on the dresser rattling, its floral pattern a cruel reminder of Mom’s lost innocence. 

A gust from the cracked window stirred a pile of Mom’s henna-stained bangles, their clink a faint echo of her former purity, now drowned by her moans. I rubbed my dick faster, the sight—Dad’s betrayal, Mom’s loose asshole, Manoj’s brown-coated cock—pushing me to the edge, my shame buried under the thrill of their sin. 


Mom’s asshole, once a tiny, precious star, was now a loose, defiled chasm, and I loved it, hated it, wanted it, my hand a blur, my heart a battlefield of disgust and desire


Manoj gripped her hips, his fingers sinking into her jiggly flesh, pounding deeper, each thrust a wet, resonant slap, her ass cheeks rippling like waves on a stormy sea. Mom’s face was a mask of conflicted ecstasy, her eyes half-closed, lips parted, sweat beading on her forehead, her cheeks flushed with a mix of shame and pleasure, her hair a sweaty tangle plastered to her neck. 

The brown substance on Manoj’s cock grew, a sticky, warm coating, and he addressed it in a long, pointed conversation, his voice sly but explicit.


Mom’s moans grew louder, “OOH YESS, FUCK ME!” her body no longer resisting, her hips grinding back, her asshole loose and welcoming, the rim a stretched, red circle, leaking more juices onto the soaked sheets. 

Dad remained unaware, his snores a pathetic backdrop, his body limp, a faint drool pooling on the floor beside him. Mom’s face twisted, her eyes darting to Dad, then back to Manoj, and she spoke, her voice shockingly slutty, a plea to end the ordeal.

Mom: MANOJ, CUM INSIDE MY ASSHOLE! Finish this once and for all, I’m begging you! My ass can’t take any more, you filthy man!

Manoj: Cum inside? Fuck, Rekha, why’re you talking like a slutty whore, my darling? Where’d you learn words like “cum,” you naughty queen?

Mom: I… I just want it over, Manoj! I’m tired, my asshole’s sore, that’s all! Don’t make it sound like I’m something I’m not, you pig!

Manoj: Bullshit, my sweet slut. You’re a true whore, watching porn behind your husband’s back, aren’t you? Those words don’t come from nowhere, you filthy goddess.

Mom: NO, I DON’T WATCH PORN! I’ve never done that, I swear! You’re twisting everything, you vile beast!

Manoj: The truth’s out, Rekha, my precious bitch. Only a slut knows “cum” like that, darling. You’re fucking busted, you whore.

I stood at the keyhole, my hand rubbing my dick, shocked that Mom knew words like “cum,” a term she’d never uttered, her holy facade hiding a secret filth. I wondered where she’d learned it—late-night whispers with Manoj? 

Stolen glances at forbidden videos? She’d never spoken of such things, her prayers and sarees a mask for this sluttiness, and it thrilled me, my cock throbbing harder. One part of me felt wrong, sickened by her corruption, her asshole defiled by another man’s cock, a betrayal of Dad’s trust. 

But another part was happy, electrified by the filthy anal adultery, Mom’s moans and Manoj’s cock in her loose asshole a perverse masterpiece I couldn’t look away from. My hand moved faster rubbing my dick, the shame buried under a dark, pulsing joy, my breath ragged, my eyes locked on her sweating, moaning form.

Mom’s pleas continued, her voice strained, her asshole sore from the relentless fucking, which had stretched to 45 minutes, an unbroken marathon that left me stunned. I didn’t know where Manoj’s strength came from, his hips a tireless machine, his cock a glistening spear, coated in brown paste, plunging into her ass without pause. 











I was sure Mom had never been fucked like this—Dad’s small dick, quick and unsatisfying, could never match this, could never stretch her asshole into this loose, gaping chasm. The brown substance increased, a thick, yellowish coating spreading across Manoj’s shaft, dripping onto the sheets. 

A mystery to my young mind, its sour stench mixing with the room’s filth, a testament to the depravity of their act.


Manoj noticed the growing mess, his eyes narrowing, and he pulled his cock from her asshole, the shaft slick and brown, the rim of her asshole gaping wide, like a soft, red rosebud stretched into a cavernous bloom, its edges trembling, leaking juices and that brown paste I didn't fully understand because I was still young. He spoke, his voice commanding, ordering her to turn.

Manoj: Rekha, my darling, turn around and suck my cock, you slutty queen. Clean this mess you made, my sweet whore. Your ass’s gift needs your lips now, you filthy love.

Mom: OOH YESS, MANOJ, NO! I… I can’t do that, it’s too disgusting! Please, don’t make me, you vile man!

Manoj: Don’t play shy, my precious slut. Get on your knees and suck it, darling. Your ass made this, you clean it, you whore. Clean my dirty dick which came from your asshole right now!

I was shocked—Mom didn’t protest, turning quickly, her fat ass shaking as she spun, her boobs bouncing, her face pale but determined. I thought she complied to make him finish, to end the ordeal, but her speed betrayed a whore’s instinct, her body trained by Manoj’s dominance. 

She felt bad, I could see it—her eyes flicked to Dad, guilt flashing as she faced the man fucking her in front of her drugged husband, her asshole raw and leaking. 

She knelt, staring at Manoj’s cock, the brown-coated shaft glistening, a sour, filthy stench wafting from it. She hesitated, her fingers trembling, holding it with just her fingertips, as if she was not sure what she was holding, her face twisted with disgust.

Manoj: Why’re you hesitating, Rekha, my sweet slut? It’s your ass’s work, darling, nothing new for a whore like you. Suck it clean, now, you filthy bitch.

Mom: MANOJ, PLEASE! It’s… too gross, I can’t put that in my mouth! Let me wipe it first, I’m begging you!

Manoj: Wipe it? I don’t fucking care, you slutty queen. Clean me with your lips, darling, or I’ll make you regret it, you whore. You made my dick dirty and it is your duty as a slutty wife to clean my dick! Do it Rekha!

Mom: NO, MANOJ, I’LL GAG! It smells awful, it was from my asshole, let me clean it first, please! I can’t do this, it’s too much!

Manoj slapped her, a sharp crack across her cheek, his hand grabbing her hair, yanking her head toward his cock, but Mom resisted, her lips sealed, her eyes watering. She pleaded, her voice desperate, and he relented slightly, his grin cruel.

Mom: MANOJ, LET ME WIPE IT! I’ll suck it after, I swear, but I can’t with… that on it! Please, don’t force me like this!

Manoj: Fine, you whining slut, wipe it quick, my darling. But you’re sucking it right after, you filthy whore. Don’t test me, Rekha. I don't care how it smells for your but you must suck it or I will make you regret it you bitchy whore!

Mom grabbed a towel from the bed, its edge already damp with her juices, and wiped his cock, her fingers trembling, the brown paste smearing onto the fabric, the sour stench intensifying, making her gag, her throat convulsing as if she’d vomit. Until now, I didn't understand what this brown substance was.

Why was my mom resisting to suck this brown substance? I didn't fully understand but I just kept watching because I knew I would ask her maybe the next day or maybe ask my dad in a secret way. 


She spoke, her voice weak, her face pale.

Manoj: Don’t fucking vomit, Rekha, my sweet. You’ll mess things up worse, you slutty queen. Suck it now, darling, clean your ass’s work, you whore.

Mom: I’M TRYING, MANOJ! The smell… it’s making me sick, it’s from my ass! Why are you so cruel Manoj?

Mom started sucking, her lips tentative, barely touching the shaft, but Manoj grabbed her head, forcing her deeper, her mouth stretching around his cock, her eyes watering, her throat gagging from the taste of her asshole’s residue. 









She sucked like a whore, her lips sliding up and down, saliva mixing with the remaining paste, her face twisted with disgust, her stomach heaving, the sour, acrid flavor overwhelming, her body trembling as she fought the urge to vomit. 


I stood frozen at the keyhole, my stomach churning, unable to believe my mom, Rekha, was sucking Manoj’s massive cock, slick with the brown, yellowish paste straight from her asshole, the filthy hole where she shits from. 


Her mouth, once a sanctuary of religious prayers, chanting mantras with serene devotion, had only ever tasted pure foods and cool drinks, never anything dirty. 

Now, that same sacred mouth was degraded, wrapped around a shaft coated in her own foulness, the sour, filthy stench of her asshole tainting her lips, defiling her holiness. 



I felt like vomiting, my throat tightening, bile rising as I imagined the taste—her asshole's dirtiness, warm and sticky, invading her tongue, a place meant for purity, not this vile act. 

Her asshole, always hidden, always smelling of shame, was now her mouth’s master, its filth a chain Manoj had forged. He stood triumphant. 

His grin a predator’s, his eyes gleaming with victory, having turned my pious mother into a vessel of full filth, her mouth a sewer for her own degradation. 

My heart twisted, nausea warring with a dark fascination, never imagining Mom would sink so low, her sacred lips now a whore’s tool, forever stained by her own shit’s embrace.




Manoj’s thrusts into her mouth were relentless, his hands gripping her hair, her boobs swaying with each movement, sweat dripping onto the floor.
After 10 minutes of her sucking the dirty thing, before pulling out, Manoj issued a vile command, his voice a menacing growl.



Manoj: Rekha, my darling, I want you to vomit on your husband’s face, you slutty queen. Puke on that sleeping bastard, my sweet whore. Do it, or I’ll wake him up, you filthy bitch.

Mom: (she nodded no) mmmmhh mmmmmhhh!

Manoj: Vomit on his face, darling, or I’ll shake him awake, you whore. Nod yes, you slut, and do it now.

Mom nodded, her eyes wide with fear, her face pale, and Manoj pulled his cock from her mouth, saliva and paste dripping from her lips. Manoj withdrew his cock from her mouth. The thing was so clean.

It was coated in mom's saliva which meant that she absolutely sucked it clean.

She turned quickly, her fat ass shaking, the cheeks jiggling like overripe melons, and leaned over Dad’s passed-out form, her boobs swaying, sweat dripping onto his chest. 

She gagged, her throat convulsing, and vomited, a thick, yellowish stream erupting from her mouth, splattering Dad’s face, the vomit a mix of bile, brown paste, and the sour residue of Manoj’s cock, pooling in on dad's open mouth, streaking his cheeks, matting his hair. 

The vomit was warm, chunky, with flecks of undigested food, its stench a nauseating blend of acid and decay, mingling with the brown paste’s sour edge, a grotesque mask on Dad’s oblivious face. 

Mom’s act was a vile desecration, her disrespect unimaginable—vomiting on her husband, the man she’d vowed to honor, while another man’s cock marked her asshole. 

I was shocked, my hand still on my dick, the sight pushing me to the edge, my arousal a dark, twisted flame, my shame buried under the thrill of her evil.

Manoj grinned, congratulating her, his voice dripping with mockery, as Mom spat on Dad’s face, a thick glob landing on his vomit-soaked cheek, further defiling him.

Manoj: Fuck, Rekha, you’re a true slut, my darling, puking on your husband like a filthy queen. That spit’s the cherry on top, you whore. You’ve ruined him, my sweet bitch.

Mom: STOP, MANOJ, PLEASE! I’ve done enough, you’ve destroyed me! Let this end, I’m begging you, you monster!

Manoj: Destroyed? You’re thriving, darling, vomit on your husband’s face, you slut. Keep going, my precious whore, we’re not done.

Mom: NO MORE, MANOJ! My ass, my mouth—it’s too much, I can’t keep doing this! Why do you hate me so much, you pig?

Dad’s face was a grotesque canvas, vomit and spit mixing with the brown substance’s faint traces, his snores bubbling through the mess, his dignity obliterated by Mom’s actions. 

She’d disrespected him beyond redemption, her holy vows shattered, her body and soul a whore’s domain, her love for Dad drowned in the filth of her betrayal. 










I rubbed my dick harder, the sight of Dad’s defiled face, Mom’s gaped asshole, and Manoj’s brown-coated cock a perverse masterpiece, my arousal a betrayal of my own father, my heart torn between horror and ecstasy


But the game was not over yet, Manoj was not done......what would he do next?

[Uvaaaa]

Nice update

[vishal1516]

Good going

[aravindkkumar08]

Till now story is going good. The pictures selection is great. It is correctly sinking with story. Is any idea of having a story with threesome with his son

[sexypreeti]

The bedroom was a crucible of sin, its air saturated with the rancid, earthy stench of Mom’s asshole, a dirty odor that clawed at my throat, mingling with the sour reek of Manoj’s sweat and the faint, dirty sweetness of a cracked jasmine candle on the dresser, its wax pooling like tears. 


I rubbed my dick harder, the sight of Dad’s defiled face, Mom’s gaped asshole, and Manoj’s brown-coated cock a perverse masterpiece, my arousal a betrayal of my own father, my heart torn between horror and ecstasy


But the game was not over yet, Manoj was not done......what would he do next?

You proved yourself wrong...again.... 

If "Manoj’s brown-coated cock a perverse masterpiece" was at the end then what did his mom suck and clean? Here is what I mean - It was coated in mom's saliva which meant that she absolutely sucked it clean. 

And when did you see this? - —Dad’s small dick

[Rajeev Gupta]

Till now story is going good. The pictures selection is great. It is correctly sinking with story. Is any idea of having a story with threesome with his son

Thank you, stay tuned for more.

[Rajeev Gupta]

Good going

Thanks for the comment

[nostonari]

Wow mindblowing

[Rajeev Gupta]

Mom knelt before Manoj, her lips still trembling from sucking his cock, the brown, yellowish paste from her asshole smeared on her chin, a sour, acrid stench clinging to her breath. 

The bed’s sheets were a sodden mess, dark with her juices, oil, and sweat, clinging to her thighs like a second skin, the fabric puckered and stained from the relentless anal fucking. 

Dad lay sprawled on the floor, his face a grotesque mask of Mom’s vomit—chunky, bile-streaked, mixed with her spit and traces of the brown paste—his drugged snores bubbling through the mess, oblivious to the depravity inches away. 

Mom’s naked body glistened, her fat ass quivering as she rose, the cheeks parting to reveal her asshole, loose and gaped, a red, swollen rim leaking juices and paste, a far cry from the tight, unused pink star.

It had been when she knelt for morning prayers, her saree modest, her body pure. Her big boobs swayed, nipples hard as river pebbles, sweat cascading down her spine, pooling in the dip above her ass, her face flushed with shame and pleasure, eyes darting to Dad’s defiled form. 

She didn’t want this done in front of her passed-out husband, the man she’d vowed to honor, his presence a constant reminder of her betrayal, her asshole’s looseness a mark of her fall from grace.

Mom spoke, her voice soft and pleading, politely urging Manoj to end the ordeal, her hands clasped, her boobs trembling with each breath.

Mom: Manoj, I aaahhh...ooohhhh I request that you please finish this soon. My body is exhausted, and my heart aches doing this in front of Amit. Can we conclude this privately, away from his presence? Aaahhhh please Manoj!!

Manoj: Finish, my darling? Your loose asshole’s still hungry, you slutty queen. Why hide from your husband, you filthy whore? He’s just a snoring loser now.

Mom: Aaahhhh shshh ooohhh Manoj, but I feel so uncomfortable with Amit here. My asshole is sore, and I only wish to ease this situation quickly. Please, can you consider my request and finish soon? Oh oh oh oh!!!

Manoj gave an ultimatum, his voice a cruel taunt, his cock still hard, slick with paste and juices, as he gripped her hips, positioning her back in doggystyle, her ass raised high.

Manoj: You want me to cum and finish, Rekha, my sweet slut? Then talk dirty, beg for my cock like a true whore, darling. If you don’t, I’ll keep fucking this ass all night, you filthy bitch.

Mom: Manoj, I’m not comfortable speaking that way. My heart is heavy, and I only wish to end this with dignity. Please, can you finish without making me say such things? Ooh please Manojjj ooooooohhh aaaiiiiiiiiii

Manoj: No dirty talk, no cumming, my precious whore. Your ass is too fucking good to stop, you slutty queen. Speak like a slut, or I’ll pound you till dawn, darling.

Mom’s face crumpled, her eyes watering, but she relented, her voice shifting to a slutty plea, her words shocking me as she begged, her ass pushing back against his cock.


She just decided to speak filthy like a slut so that Manoj will once and for all cum in her asshole and end this betrayal she was doing right infront of her husband who is passed out.

Mom: Manoj, please fuck my ass hard and cum inside me! I need your cock to fill my asshole, make me your whore! Please, give me your cum, I’m begging you!

Manoj: Fuck, Rekha, listen to you, you filthy slut, begging like a porn star, my darling. You’re a true whore, shaming your husband with that dirty mouth, you bitch. Keep talking, my sweet, your ass deserves this disgrace.

Mom: I ask you to cum in my asshole, Manoj, to make this complete! Fuck me deeper, make my ass yours, please! I want your cum so badly, fill me up! Aaaiiii iiii oooohhh uuuummmmmm ssshitt aaaaaahhhhhhh

Manoj: You’re a fucking disgrace, Rekha, my slutty queen, begging for my cum in front of your husband. Your holy prayers are shit now, you whore. Take this cock, you filthy darling.

Mom kept looking at Dad, her eyes locked on his vomit-soaked face, guilt and filth warring within her. She felt filthy, her asshole loose and leaking, her mouth tainted by the brown paste, her body a whore’s vessel, betraying the man she’d loved for years. 

The act in front of Dad amplified her shame, each thrust a reminder of her fall, her holy vows drowned in the sweat and juices soaking the bed. 







Manoj fucked her ass harder, his cock a glistening spear, the brown paste spreading, the rim of her asshole stretching wider, her moans a mix of pain and pleasure, “OOH YESS, CUM IN ME!” her body reacting with involuntary shudders. 

Her boobs bouncing, her ass cheeks clapping, her sweat flying like sparks. Her sluttiness was driven by exhaustion and desperation, her sore asshole unable to endure more, her body yielding to Manoj’s dominance, her mind fractured by guilt and lust.

I was in shock, my hand rubbing my dick, stunned by Mom’s slutty words, “fuck my ass,” “cum inside,” spilling from the mouth that once chanted prayers. 

Her transformation was complete, her pious facade shattered, her body a slut’s playground, her asshole a loose, defiled chasm. I felt a dark thrill, my cock throbbing, but shame gnawed at me, knowing I was complicit in watching, in loving this betrayal, my own father defiled by Mom’s vomit and spit.

Manoj’s thrusts grew erratic, his voice a low growl, cuing his climax, his hands gripping her ass tighter, the cheeks red from his slaps.

Manoj: Rekha, my darling, I’m gonna cum, you slutty queen. Your ass is milking me, you filthy whore. Ready for my load, my sweet?

Mom: Yes, Manoj, I  ask you to cum in my asshole! Please, fill me with your cum, I need it! Make this end, I’m begging you!

Manoj: Fuck, you’re a desperate slut, Rekha, my precious. Your ass is begging for it, darling. Here it comes, you filthy bitch.







I stood shamelessly, my hand a blur, waiting for Mom to receive cum in her asshole for the first time, a milestone in her degradation. I was shameful of myself, my arousal a betrayal of Dad. 

My excitement a twisted mirror of Mom’s filth, my heart pounding as I anticipated the moment, my own climax building. 

Mom pushed her ass backward, her cheeks spreading, her gaped asshole swallowing Manoj’s cock deeper, desperate to make him cum, to end the ordeal, her sore rim unable to take more, her body driven by instinct and submission.

Manoj’s groans erupted, his voice a primal roar, as he cummed inside my mom's asshole for the first time in her life time, his cock pulsing inside her asshole, flooding it with cum, the climax triggered by her tight, loose grip and her slutty begging.

Manoj: AAAHHH, REKHA, TAKE MY CUM, YOU SLUTTY QUEEN! YOUR ASS IS FUCKING PERFECT, MY DARLING! I’M FILLING YOU, YOU FILTHY WHORE!

Mom: OOH YESS, MANOJ, I FEEL YOUR CUM! PLEASE, KEEP CUMMING, FILL MY ASSHOLE! I NEED IT ALL, MY BODY’S YOURS!

Manoj’s orgasm was intense, his cum a hot, thick flood, her asshole’s looseness allowing it to pool deep, some leaking out, mixing with the brown paste, dripping onto the sheets, a white and brown slurry. 






He held her asscheeks, spreading them wide, looking up in triumph, his eyes gleaming with conquest, having claimed her most forbidden hole in front of her husband. 

I also cummed on my hands too, my fingers shaking, cum spilling in my pants, a shameful release driven by Mom’s degradation, her asshole’s violation, and the sight of Manoj’s triumph. 

My orgasm was a betrayal, a mirror of Mom’s fall, my body reacting to the filth I both hated and craved, my breath ragged, my legs trembling, my shame a heavy weight, yet my arousal unyielding, the image of Mom’s cum-filled asshole searing my mind.

Manoj spoke, his voice low, ordering her to raise up slightly, still in doggystyle, for a kiss, his cock still buried in her asshole, wanting to seal his dominance with her lips.

Manoj: Rekha, my sweet slut, raise up a bit and kiss me, you filthy queen. Keep that ass on my cock, darling. Show me you’re mine, you whore.

Mom: Manoj, Come here! Let me kiss you as you ask. My body is overwhelmed, but I will do this for you. Please, let this be gentle, I’m so tired.

Manoj: Gentle? You’re a fucking slut, Rekha, my precious. Kiss me like the whore you are, darling. Your ass is still mine, you bitch.

Mom raised her torso slightly, her boobs swaying, her ass still impaled, and kissed him, her lips pressing against his, a deep, submissive embrace, her tongue meeting his, the taste of her asshole’s paste lingering. 


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She kissed to appease him, to solidify her submission, her body trembling with exhaustion, her hands gripping his shoulders for balance, her sweat mingling with his, her boobs brushing his chest. 

During the kiss, she moaned softly, her asshole clenching around his cock, receiving the final sperms inside her asshole, a reflex of her body’s overstimulation, her guilt and filth intensified by Dad’s presence.

Manoj spoke again, his voice shameless, as Mom described the sensation of his cum, her eyes flicking to Dad, her face etched with worry.

Mom: Manoj, I feel your huge cum inside my asshole, it’s so warm and full. I am impressed by how you fucked me, even though it was not in the right hole. Please, can you remove your cock now? I’m worried about Amit seeing us.

Manoj: My cum’s fucking perfect in your ass, Rekha, you slutty queen. Why worry about that loser husband of yours, darling? He’s covered in your puke, you filthy whore.

Mom: I respectfully ask you to understand, Manoj, as Amit’s presence makes me anxious. I feel so filthy doing this in front of him, and I want to protect our marriage. Please, remove your cock and let us stop this now.

Manoj: Stop? I want you to shit my cum on his face, Rekha, my sweet slut. Puke’s not enough, darling—cover him in our fuck, you whore.

Mom: Manoj, What??!! No, I refuse to do that, as it’s too horrific and cruel. My heart cannot bear further disrespect to Amit, who doesn’t deserve this. Please, reconsider this terrible request and let us end this differently.

Mom’s refusal was firm, her shock palpable, her body tensing, her asshole clenching around his cock, still buried deep. She refused to shit Manoj's cum on Dad’s face, her love for her husband, though battered, holding her back from this ultimate desecration. 

The act was too vile, a step beyond vomiting and spitting, a final erasure of her vows, her guilt already crushing her under the weight of her filth, her eyes pleading with Manoj to spare her this horror.


I stood, my hand sticky with my own cum, my shock at Mom’s sluttiness warring with my shame, my arousal a dark flame that refused to die, my eyes locked on her cum-filled asshole, her gaped rim a testament to her fall, Dad’s defiled face a mirror of my own betrayal



Mom knelt in doggystyle, her fat ass still raised, Manoj’s cock buried in her asshole, his cum a hot, thick flood mixing with the brown, yellowish paste from her depths, leaking in a slow, white-brown trickle onto the soaked bedsheets. 

Dad lay on the floor, his face a grotesque canvas of Mom’s vomit—chunky, bile-streaked, with spit and brown paste traces—his drugged snores gurgling through the mess, oblivious to the sin above him. 

Mom’s naked body glistened, her big boobs swaying, nipples hard as polished stones, sweat streaming down her spine, her asshole loose and gaped, a red, swollen rim, no longer the tight pink star of her prayer days, now a cavernous, leaking chasm. 

Her face was flushed, eyes wide with guilt, lips trembling from their kiss, hair matted to her neck, as Manoj ordered her to shit his cum on Dad’s face, his voice a cruel command.

Mom thought hard, her mind racing, the cum’s mixture with the brown paste a filthy abomination, its sour, acrid stench a reminder of her asshole’s defilement, a step too far in her betrayal. 

She spoke, her voice natural but strained, explaining her hesitation, her eyes darting to Dad’s vomit-soaked face.

Mom: Manoj, I can’t do that, the cum is mixed with that brown stuff from my ass. It’s too disgusting to put on Amit’s face, and my heart breaks thinking of it. Please find another way to end this, I beg.

Manoj: I don’t give a fuck, Rekha, my darling slut. Shit my cum on that loser’s face, you filthy whore. Your ass made this mess, now use it, you sweet bitch.

Mom: Manoj, but the mixture is so vile, it’s not right for Amit. My ass is already sore, and this feels like too much shame.

Manoj didn’t care, his grin predatory, his cock still hard, slick with cum and brown paste, as he slapped her ass, the cheeks jiggling like overripe melons. Mom decided to comply, her face crumpling, guilt and filth overwhelming her, her body trembling as she nodded. 

Manoj spoke, warning her not to spill as he prepared to withdraw.

Manoj: Don’t fucking spill when I pull out, Rekha, my sweet slut. Keep that ass tight, darling, or I’ll make you lick it up, you whore.

Mom: I’ll try my best, Manoj, to keep it in as you say. My ass is so loose, but I’ll clench hard. Please guide me so I don’t mess this up.

Manoj eased his cock out, the shaft glistening with cum and paste, still hard from the thrill of her submission, the brown residue clinging to its length, a testament to her asshole’s filth. 







Mom immediately clenched her asshole, the rim quivering, a desperate attempt to trap the cum-paste mixture, her fat ass shaking as she turned, directing her asshole toward Dad’s face, the cheeks parting to reveal the gaped, red rim. 

She felt filthy, her body a whore’s vessel, her asshole’s looseness a badge of her degradation, her act about to defile her husband beyond redemption. Her facial expression was a mix of shame and resignation, eyes watery, lips pursed, cheeks flushed.

As she positioned herself, her boobs swaying, sweat dripping onto the floor.


Manoj encouraged her, his voice blending nice and filthy words, standing behind her, his hands gripping her fat ass, ensuring her asshole aimed at Dad’s vomit-soaked face.

Manoj: That’s it, Rekha, my beautiful slut, aim that sweet ass right, you filthy queen. Shit my cum on your husband's face, darling, make him wear our fuck. You’re a perfect whore, my precious.


Mom: I’m trying, Manoj, to do this as you want. My heart feels heavy, but I’ll follow your command. 

Manoj: You’re doing great, my sweet whore. Your loose ass is gonna paint him, you filthy goddess. Keep that hole ready, darling, for this dirty gift.

Dad stirred slightly, his fingers twitching, his snores faltering, but still passed out, the drugs keeping him in a haze. Mom noticed, panic flashing across her face, and she spoke, her voice trembling.

Mom: Manoj, Amit’s moving a little, I’m scared he might wake up. My ass is ready, but this is too risky now. 

Manoj: Shut up, Rekha, my darling slut. He’s not waking, you filthy whore, just shit it out now. I don’t care about his twitches, you sweet bitch.

Mom: Manoj, but his movements worry me so much. My heart’s racing, and I just want to protect him. Please, can we be quick if we must do this?

Her asshole, too loose to hold, began spilling, a dribble of cum and brown paste leaking out from her asshole, missing Dad’s face, splattering on the floor, as Manoj hadn’t aimed her perfectly. 

He spoke, his voice sharp, slapping her ass hard, the cheeks jiggling like jelly in a storm.

Manoj: Stop fucking leaking, Rekha, my sweet slut, clench that asshole very tight! You’re wasting my cum, you filthy whore. Get it together, darling, or I’ll spank you red.

Mom: I’m so sorry, Manoj, my ass is too loose to hold it all. It’s been stretched so much, I can’t tighten it more. 







Mom apologized, her voice soft, her face flushed with shame, as Manoj’s cock, slightly dirty with cum and brown paste, remained hard, the residue a mark of her asshole’s relentless violation. 

I couldn’t believe that big cock had been inside Mom’s asshole, its girth and length a monstrous intruder in her tiny, once-tight rim, now a loose, leaking chasm, a testament to Manoj’s dominance. 

My hand rubbed my dick, my shock mixing with arousal, the sight of that filthy cock a perverse thrill, my shame buried under the dark joy of her degradation.


Manoj ordered her to release, his voice commanding, as he repositioned her ass, his hands spreading her cheeks, aiming her gaped asshole at Dad’s face.

Manoj: Now shit it out, Rekha, my beautiful slut, blast his face with our cum, you filthy queen. Let it all go, darling, cover that loser, you whore.

Mom: I’ll do it, Manoj, as you say, to get this over with. My ass is ready, and I’ll try to aim well. Please, hold me steady so it hits right.

Mom let out a burst of cum, a blastful eruption, the sound a wet, gurgling “PFFFFT,” like a punctured balloon, the cum-paste mixture exploding from her loose asshole in a thick, forceful stream. 







It splattered on Dad’s face, a white-brown slurry, some splashing onto the floor, some coating Manoj’s hands, the mixture a filthy blend of creamy cum and yellowish-brown paste, its texture chunky, its color a sickening taupe, reeking of sour decay and acrid waste. 


The blast smeared Dad’s cheeks, pooling in his open mouth, streaking his forehead, matting his hair, a grotesque addition to the vomit and spit already defiling him. 

Dad’s face, still hazed by drugs, twitched faintly, his lips moving, unaware of the filth raining upon him, the mixture’s stench a noxious cloud in the room.


Manoj shamed her, his voice a mix of mockery and lust, elongating his taunts, as Mom held her mouth, eyes squeezed shut, shame overwhelming her, knowing she’d defiled her husband with her asshole’s contents.

Manoj: Fuck, Rekha, you blasted his face like a fucking sewer, you filthy slut. Your ass shat our cum all over him, darling, what a disgusting whore you are. Look at that mess, my sweet, you’ve ruined him completely.

Mom: I did what you asked, Manoj, but my heart is breaking for Amit. This was so wrong, and I feel like a monster. 

Manoj: Stop? You’re a filthy queen, Rekha, shitting cum on your husband’s face, you whore. That burst was fucking epic, darling, own it, you slutty bitch.

Mom: I followed your command, Manoj, but this shame is crushing me. My ass did this, and I can’t bear it. Please, don’t make me feel worse than I do.

Mom finished shitting it out, her asshole spasming, the last dribbles of cum and paste leaking out, splattering Dad’s chin, the rim quivering, unable to close, a loose, red cavern that marked her total degradation. 

Manoj encouraged her to turn and see the mess, his voice insistent, as she refused, her tone crying, her head turning away.

Manoj: Turn around, Rekha, my sweet slut, look at the fucking mess you made, you filthy whore. See your husband’s face, darling, covered in our cum, you bitch.

Mom: No, Manoj, I can’t look at Amit like this, it’s too painful. My heart can’t take seeing him so disgraced. Please, don’t make me do this.

Manoj: You’ll fucking look, you slutty queen, or I’ll drag you to him, you whore. Face your shame, darling, see what your ass did, you filthy bitch.

Mom: I’m begging you, Manoj, spare me this, it’s breaking me apart. I know what I did, and it’s killing me inside. Please, let me keep my eyes away.

Mom didn’t want to look, her guilt a crushing weight, the sight of Dad’s defiled face a mirror of her betrayal, her love for him twisted by her actions, her asshole’s filth a permanent stain on her soul. 

Manoj grabbed her face, his fingers digging into her cheeks, forcing her to turn, her eyes meeting Dad’s vomit-and-cum-soaked face, a sorry expression washing over her, lips trembling, eyes watering, cheeks pale, a silent apology in her gaze. 

She felt bad, her heart shattered, her body a whore’s tool, her marriage desecrated, her filth forever marking her husband.

Manoj asked filthy questions, his voice taunting, elongating his demands, as Mom refused to answer, her shame deepening.

Manoj: Rekha, my darling slut, don’t you love shitting my cum on his face, you filthy whore? Isn’t it fucking hot, darling, ruining him like this, you bitch?

Mom: I can’t answer that, Manoj, it’s too shameful to think about. My heart is heavy with guilt, and I hate what I’ve done. Please, don’t ask me to say such things.

Manoj: Come on, you slutty queen, admit it feels good, you filthy goddess. Your ass loved blasting him, darling, didn’t it, you whore?

Mom: I won’t say that, Manoj, because it’s breaking me inside. This was wrong, and I’m drowning in shame. Please, stop pushing me to answer like this.

Mom shrugged him off, her voice firm, her body trembling, as she declared she was done, Manoj laughing, his grin cruel.

Mom: I’m done, Manoj, I can’t do this anymore. My ass, my heart—it’s all broken, and I need to stop. Please, let me go now. Let me go to the bathroom

Manoj: Done? You’re a fucking riot, Rekha, my sweet slut. Run to the bathroom, darling, but your ass is still mine, you whore.

Mom stumbled to the bathroom, her fat ass shaking, the cheeks jiggling like storm-tossed waves, Manoj’s cum cascading down her thighs from her loose asshole, a white-brown stream marking her skin, proof of her rim’s inability to close, stretched beyond repair by his relentless fucking. 

The looseness was stark, her once-tight asshole now a gaping chasm, leaking filthy cum with every step, a testament to her degradation.

As Mom vanished into the bathroom, Manoj stood over Dad, muttering disrespectful words, his voice a low, venomous growl, his eyes gleaming with triumph.

Manoj: I fucked your wife, you pathetic bastard. Your holy Rekha’s ass is mine, you snoring loser. You’re nothing but a cum-soaked fool now.

While still standing, he guided his still-hard cock, dirty with cum and brown paste, and began pissing on Dad’s face, a hot, yellow stream arcing from his shaft, splattering Dad’s vomit-and-cum-soaked cheeks, washing the mess into a swirling, filthy puddle, the acrid stench rising, mixing with the room’s sour decay. 

I was shocked, my hand frozen on my dick, the sight of Manoj’s piss defiling Dad’s face a new low, my heart pounding, my arousal warring with horror, my shame a heavy chain. Dad stirred, his eyes fluttering, a faint groan escaping his lips, the piss and drugs rousing him slightly, his face twitching under the stream.

Manoj continued, his voice laced with bad words, as he pissed, the stream unrelenting, soaking Dad’s hair, pooling in his mouth.

Manoj: Take my piss, you fucking loser, you pathetic cunt. Your wife’s ass shitted my sperm on you, now I’m marking you, you worthless bastard. Stay down, you cum-soaked fool.

Manoj realized Dad was stirring, his eyes narrowing, and he spat a final insult, rushing to the bathroom, his cock still dripping.

Manoj: Shit, you are waking up, you fucking prick? Stay down, you piss-soaked loser. You are waking up now! What a bastard.



Manoj ran to the bathroom and my dad started waking up! But what happened? Will my dad get to realize what happened still in his dazed mode?



Guys give me your thoughts!

[aravindkkumar08]

Author story as on now is ok but some lines disgusting to read. Some doubt about your recent update, husband can smell the cum and piss and they cannot wipe the evidence immediately as he is awaking.

[Rajeev Gupta]

Author story as on now is ok but some lines disgusting to read. Some doubt about your recent update, husband can smell the cum and piss and they cannot wipe the evidence immediately as he is awaking.

Patience friend, don't anticipate what would happen next even before the author updates. If you keep anticipating, you will eventually get bored. Let the author guide you. Don't rush ahead of the author or think for the author.

[Anil1992]

Nice stoty

[Anil1992]

Excellent narration. Involve son to suck  juce of mom ass.

[Eswar P]

Nice erotic story. Super narration

[Auntified]

Let sanjay worship the delicious and spicy ass hole of shalini aunty.

[Rajeev Gupta]

The bedroom was a cesspool of filth, the air thick with the sour, acrid stench of Mom’s asshole, Manoj’s piss, and the lingering decay of cum, brown paste, vomit, and spit, all mingling in a noxious haze. 

The bedsheet was a sodden ruin, soaked with Mom’s juices, oil, sweat, and the white-brown slurry of Manoj’s cum mixed with her asshole’s paste, the fabric clinging to the mattress like a defiled shroud. 

Dad lay on the floor, his face a grotesque mask of vomit, spit, and cum-paste, now streaked with Manoj’s yellow piss, the mess pooling in his mouth, matting his hair, his drugged snores gurgling through the filth, oblivious to the desecration. 


My dad, due to his dazed state, was not able to activate his scent sense because the drug was still effective although minimally. Therefore, he wasn't able to smell the filth in the bedroom.

My mom—Rekha—emerged from the bathroom, still naked, her body glistening with sweat, her big boobs swaying, nipples hard as river stones.

Her fat ass quivering with each step, her loose asshole leaking a faint trickle of cum down her thighs, a testament to its stretched, gaped state. 





She carried a jug of water, her face etched with worry, eyes wide, lips trembling, hair matted to her neck, as she hurried to Dad, believing Manoj’s claim that he was about to wake up, her heart pounding with fear of discovery.

It looks as if Manoj told her that my dad was about to wake up and this made my mom panic.


Mom knelt beside Dad, her boobs brushing the floor, and poured water over his face, the clear stream washing away the vomit, spit, cum, and piss, the filth swirling into a muddy puddle beneath him. 

She grabbed a towel, its edge already damp with her juices, and wiped his face, her hands shaking, her breath ragged, as she scrubbed the mess from his cheeks, forehead, and mouth, revealing his pale, slack skin. 

My dad was still dazed not knowing what to do. He was stupefied not knowing what was going on.



As she wiped, she noticed the sharp, ammonia-like stench of piss, stronger than the cum-paste’s sour decay, and concluded Manoj had pissed on Dad’s face, her eyes narrowing, fury surging through her. 

She stood, her fat ass shaking like overripe fruit in a storm, the cheeks jiggling as she rushed back to the bathroom, her loose asshole winking with each step, cum still dripping, her anger a blazing fire, her naked body a vision of betrayed sanctity.

I heard them from the bathroom, Mom’s shouts echoing, her voice raw with rage, as she confronted Manoj, who lounged against the sink, his cock still hard, slick with cum and paste, his grin unyielding.

She was shouting at Manoj so loudly that I thought my dad would wake up but dad was still down dazed. The drug was really heavy on him.

Mom: Manoj, how could you piss on Amit’s face? That’s beyond cruel, and I won’t let you turn me into a woman who allows this! You’ve gone too far, and I’m sick of this filth!

Manoj: He fucking deserves it, Rekha, my darling slut. Your husband’s a pathetic loser, and my piss is his crown, you filthy whore. Look at your juicy ass, darling, still begging for my cock even if I already fucked it and cummed in it.

Mom: Don’t you dare talk about Amit like that, Manoj! I won’t let you degrade him further or make me someone who hurts her family! Stop this now, I’m begging you! I will not let you degrade my husband this way

Manoj: Degrade? You shitted my cum on his face, you sweet whore. I’m just adding to the art, darling. Fuck, your boobs are perfect, my slutty queen, keep shouting, it’s hot.

Mom: I did what you forced me to, but pissing on him is unforgivable! I’m trying to hold onto who I am, not become your monster! You need to stop this, Manoj, please!

Manoj: Monster? You’re a fucking goddess, Rekha, my filthy slut. Your anger’s making me hard, darling. Keep that ass shaking, you whore, I’m not listening.

Mom’s shouts grew louder, but Manoj ignored her, his eyes roaming her naked body, sexualizing her, his voice dripping with lust. She rushed back to the bedroom, her fat ass jiggling, realizing he wouldn’t hear her.

Her face flushed with fury, her boobs bouncing, sweat streaming down her spine. She knelt by Dad again, wiping his face clean, scrubbing every trace of piss, cum, vomit, and paste.

T he towel now a sodden, filthy rag, the floor beneath him a muddy smear, her hands trembling, her heart heavy with guilt for her role in his desecration.

Dad stirred, his eyes fluttering, his voice a slurred mumble, not fully awake, his drugged haze keeping him disoriented, as he spoke, confusion lacing his words.

Dad: Rekha… what’s happening? Why am I on the floor? My head’s spinning, love, what’s going on?

Mom: Amit, you’re just tired, you went to bed straight after you came home, that’s all. Don’t worry, I’m here to take care of you. Please, just rest now, my love.

Dad: Straight to bed? But… why’s the room smelling like piss and… something rotten? It’s strong, Rekha, what’s that stench?

Mom: It’s nothing, Amit, just some spilled juice that went bad. You’re imagining things because you’re so groggy. Close your eyes, darling, you need sleep.

Dad: Juice? Okay, but… why’re you naked, Rekha? You’re never like this… what’s happening? My face feels wet, too. I don't remember anything.

Mom: I was about to shower when you slept, Amit, that’s why I’m naked. Your face is wet from me splashing water to wake you. Please, stop asking questions, you’re not thinking clearly.

Dad: Not thinking… yeah, maybe… but it’s so weird, Rekha. The floor’s hard, why’m I down here? Feels like a bad dream.

Mom: It’s just a dream, Amit, you’re exhausted and confused. Let me help you to bed, you’ll feel better after sleep. No more questions, darling, just rest now.

Dad wasn’t fully awake, his eyes half-open, his movements sluggish, his speech slurred, the drugs still heavy in his system, keeping him in a fog. Mom encouraged him to move, her voice soothing, desperate to keep him calm.

Mom: Amit, come to bed, you need to sleep this off. You’re safe with me, just let me guide you. Come on, darling, let’s get you comfortable.

Dad: Bed… yeah, sounds good, Rekha. I’m so… tired. Why’s it so hot in here? The...th...the room feels so hot, it feels like someone ran in here for hours.

Mom: It’s just your imagination, Amit, you’re dreaming a bit. The room is actually cold. The bed’s cool and ready for you. Let me help you up, my love.

Mom removed the soiled bedsheet, yanking the cum-and-juice-soaked fabric free, tossing it into a corner, revealing the bare mattress, its faint stains a silent witness to her sin. 

She bent to help Dad, her fat ass raised, and I saw her loose asshole, a gaped, red rim, stretched wide like a yawning cavern, leaking a faint trickle of cum, surrounded by her plump cheeks, her pussy glistening with sweat and juices, the lips swollen, a stark contrast to her asshole’s ravaged state. 







The looseness was shocking, no longer the tight pink star of her pious days, now a defiled chasm, a testament to Manoj’s relentless fucking, her pussy a secondary player in her degradation.

Mom guided Dad, her hands under his arms, encouraging him to stand, her boobs brushing his chest, sweat dripping onto his shirt, as she spoke.

Mom: Come on, Amit, just a few steps to the bed, you can do it. I’m here, you’re safe, just lean on me. Let’s get you settled, darling.

Dad: Settled… yeah, okay, Rekha. My legs… so heavy. You’re sure this is a dream?

Mom: Yes, Amit, it’s all a dream, you’re just overtired. The bed’s right here, let’s lie down. Sleep will fix everything, my love.

Mom laid Dad on the bare mattress, his body sinking into it, his eyes half-closed, still wondering, his voice a mumble as he spoke. The bed he is laying on is the bed where pure betrayal has just happened and massive filth behind his back.

Dad: Rekha, it’s so hot in here, like… something’s off. The room’s spinning, and that smell… still there. Am I really dreaming?

Mom: You’re dreaming, Amit, it’s just the heat and your tired mind playing tricks. Close your eyes, let sleep take you, it’s all fine. I’m right here, darling, just rest.

Dad: Dreaming… okay, maybe… but it feels so real. Why’s my face… sticky? Rekha, tell me it’s nothing.

Mom: It’s nothing, Amit, just some water I splashed to wake you. You’re imagining the stickiness, you’re so groggy. Sleep now, my love, stop worrying.

Mom pulled a blanket over Dad, tucking it around him, her hands trembling, ensuring he was covered, her boobs swaying with each movement, sweat beading on her forehead. 

She caught Manoj at the corner of her eye, leaning in the bathroom doorway, his cock still hard, his grin mocking, and anger flared in her chest, her lips tightening.

Her eyes narrowing, as she stayed on the bed, ensuring Dad was asleep, her fingers brushing his shoulder, willing him to stay under.

Manoj whispered from the bathroom, his voice low, taunting, urging her to join him, as she sat, her naked body tense, her loose asshole still leaking cum onto the mattress.

Manoj: (Whispering) Rekha, my darling slut, come to the bathroom, let’s bathe together, you filthy whore. Your ass needs cleaning, darling, and I want you wet, you sweet bitch.

Mom: (Whispering) No, Manoj, I can’t do that, I won’t leave Amit like this. Don’t make me into a woman who abandons her husband for you. I’m staying here until he’s asleep, please.

Manoj: Fuck that loser, Rekha, my precious slut. Get in here, darling, or I’ll drag you myself, you whore. Your ass is mine, come wash it with me.


Mom checked Dad, her hand on his chest, feeling his slow, deep breaths, confirming he’d slipped back into sleep, his snores soft, his face slack. 

I was shocked, my hand frozen on my dick, as she stood, her fat ass shaking, and walked toward the bathroom, closing the door with a soft click, joining Manoj to bathe together while Dad slept. 

The act stunned me, Mom’s compliance a final betrayal, her naked body vanishing into the bathroom, the mystery of their bath a forbidden scene I couldn’t watch, my arousal warring with disbelief, my shame a heavy weight, the closed door a barrier to her final degradation