Adultery Whispers of Lust: My Mom's Forbidden Path

[nostonari]

Awesome. Keep going

[Auntified]

Let sanjay taste mom's asshole paste mixed with manoj's cum by licking her asshole or let sanjay taste the delicious and spicy asshole of shalini aunty. The rekha's transformation looks good.

[Eswar P]

Wonderfull amezing bro

[Rajeev Gupta]

Mom stepped out of the bathroom, her naked body slick with water, droplets clinging to her skin like liquid diamonds, her big boobs swaying gently, nipples hardened by the chill, her fat ass trembling with each step.

Her hair hung in wet, tangled clumps, dripping onto her shoulders, water streaming down her spine, pooling on the floor, her face pale with shame, eyes flickering to Dad, asleep on the bare mattress, his blanket tucked tightly, his soft snores a fragile barrier against the truth. 

The bedroom stank of piss, cum, brown paste, and sweat, a sour, acrid fog that clung to the walls, the bare mattress stained with Mom’s juices and the cum-paste slurry, a silent testament to her defilement. 

Manoj followed mom, his face looked satisfied because he just fucked the most beautiful mom in the world, his body also wet, his cock semi-hard, gleaming with water and faint traces of paste, his eyes devouring Mom’s curves, a sly grin curling his lips. 

Mom stood, her boobs heaving with each breath, her gaze darting to Dad in fear, her heart hammering, terrified he’d stir and see her naked with her lover, her wet skin a canvas of her sin.

Mom spoke, her voice urgent, trembling with distress, urging Manoj to leave, her hands clasped, water mixing with sweat on her skin.

Mom: Manoj, you have to leave now, before Amit wakes up. I can’t let this ruin my family, don’t make me a woman who loses everything. I’m begging you, just go.

Manoj: Leave, Rekha? Your body’s a fucking treasure, I can’t get enough of those curves, you naughty minx. Why rush me out when you’re still dripping for me?

Mom: I’m serious, Manoj, no one can know about this affair, it’ll destroy me. My kids and Amit can’t suffer because of this shame. Please, swear you’ll keep it secret.

Manoj dressed, pulling on his shirt and pants, his eyes tracing Mom’s wet form, his voice a taunting mix of disrespect and desire, issuing an ultimatum with a leer.

Manoj: Secret, huh? I’ll keep my mouth shut if I can keep tasting you and your tight holes, Rekha, you tempting vixen. Your body’s too perfect to abandon, darling.

Mom: No, Manoj, I can’t keep doing this, it’s tearing me apart. Don’t force me to be someone who betrays her husband forever. Please, let this be the end.

Manoj: End it? Your skin’s begging for my touch, you wicked beauty. Not only that, your holes are craving for my dick. I have to fuck you each time I want, or I’ll spill everything to Amit, sweetheart. You’re too good to let go.

Mom: I’m begging you, Manoj, don’t make me carry this sin any longer. My family’s all I have, I can’t let you shatter it. Please, find another woman, I can’t do this.

Manoj: Another woman? Nobody matches your fire, Rekha, you sultry siren. Agree to more, or your husband knows it all, darling. I’m dead serious.

Mom argued, her voice breaking, but she relented, her eyes fixed on Dad, fear tightening her chest, as she nodded, her boobs trembling, water dripping from her hair onto the floor.

Mom: Fine, Manoj, I’ll see you, but only to keep this hidden. Don’t push me to hate myself more, I’m not that kind of woman. Please, keep your promise and tell no one.

Manoj: That’s my girl, Rekha, my tempting prize. You’ll crave me again, sweetheart. Now give me a kiss, you naughty thing, before I head out.

Mom: A kiss, Manoj? I can’t, not with Amit right there, he can wake up, it’s too much. Please, don’t make me do more, I’m already falling apart.

Manoj: Kiss me, you gorgeous creature, or I’ll wake him up, darling. Make it deep, Rekha, show me you’re still mine, you wild temptress.

Mom kissed him passionately, her lips pressing hard against his, her hands cradling his head, fingers weaving through his wet hair, her tongue dancing with his, the faint taste of her asshole’s paste lingering from their bath. 


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Her boobs pressed against his chest, her wet body slick, but she pushed him away, her hands shaking, her face ashen, as she spoke, her voice desperate.

Mom: Don’t destroy my marriage, Manoj, I’m begging you. I gave you the kiss, but I can’t keep hurting Amit. Please, leave and don’t break my family.

Manoj: Destroy? Your body’s screaming for me, you fiery vixen. I’ll have you again, Rekha, and you’ll melt for it, my queen.

Mom: Just go, Manoj, and make sure Sanjay doesn’t see you. I can’t let my son find out, it’d crush him. Please, slip out quietly, I’m begging you.

I bolted to the sitting room, my pulse racing, pretending I hadn’t seen, my dick limp, dried cum crusting my hand, a shameful mark of my arousal at Mom’s degradation. 

The sitting room was dim, a worn couch sagging beneath a crooked family portrait, the air heavy, faintly tainted by the bedroom’s stench. Manoj entered, his clothes rumpled, his grin sharp, spotting me slouched on the couch, my face a mask of innocence, my eyes wide, feigning ignorance.

Me: Manoj, why’re you here so late? I was just… hanging out, didn’t see anything. You visiting Mom for something?

Manoj: Hanging out, Sanjay? Did you catch me with your mom, kid? Don’t play dumb, I know you’re curious, my boy.

Me: Catch you? Nah, I’ve been down here the whole time, I swear. What’re you talking about, Manoj? What’d you do with Mom?

Manoj: You saw something, didn’t you, Sanjay? Come on, fess up, kid. Was it fun to watch, you little sneak? Did you enjoy me giving your mom a "massage"?

Me: Okay, yeah, I saw… the massage, but I don’t get what was happening. I’m just a kid, I was confused. What were you and Mom doing, Manoj? Tell me!

Manoj: Grown-up games, Sanjay, too big for you to understand. Your mom and I had a good time and a good massage. She just wanted a massage, that’s all, kid. Don’t stress about it, alright?

Manoj strode away, his steps bold, his shadow stretching across the floor, vanishing down the hall, leaving me alone, my heart pounding, my innocence a facade to mask my complicity. 

I climbed the stairs, my sneakers squeaking, and entered the bedroom, where Mom stood in a sexy red dress, the fabric hugging her curves like a second skin, the plunging neckline showcasing her cleavage, the short hem riding high on her thighs, accentuating her fat ass, the material clinging tightly, outlining her fat asscheeks and swollen pussy, a vision of forbidden allure. 



Manoj was lucky, his cock having ravaged my mom's holes, her body a whore’s masterpiece, her dress a cruel contrast to her pious past. She sprayed air freshener, a floral mist fighting the room’s stench of piss, cum, and paste, desperate to erase the evidence of her affair, her hands trembling, her eyes flicking to Dad, still asleep under the blanket.

I spoke, my voice curious, playing naive, as she turned, her boobs straining against the dress, her face pale, lips pursed.

Me: Mom, why’re you spraying air freshener? The room smells funky, like… something gross. And why’s Dad already asleep?

Mom: Sanjay, don’t come in, I’m cleaning the room, it’s a mess. Dad’s exhausted, he crashed early, that’s all. Go downstairs, I need to finish this, okay?

Me: Alright, Mom, I’ll go, but it’s weird to clean so late. Dad’s okay, right? You sure everything’s cool?

Mom: Everything’s fine, Sanjay, just let me take care of this. Dad needs sleep, and I need to freshen the room. Please, wait in the sitting room, I’ll be down soon.

I walked away, smiling, my anger at Mom’s cheating was gone, replaced by a twisted support for her affair with Manoj. The rage I’d felt, watching her asshole stretched, her face defiling Dad, had dissolved into admiration for her boldness, her sluttiness a secret I now protected, my heart siding with her betrayal.

My arousal a quiet cheer for her and Manoj’s forbidden passion. I wanted her to keep fucking him, to revel in her filth, my loyalty to Dad waning, my excitement for her sin a dark, pulsing thrill, my smile a mask for my allegiance, my love for Mom now tied to her whorish defiance. 

Supporting her felt right, a rebellion against Dad’s oblivious trust, her affair a fire I longed to see burn, my complicity a secret bond with her, my thoughts consumed by her daring, my heart no longer torn but wholly hers, cheering her descent into Manoj’s arms.

The next morning, Dad woke for a meeting, his eyes bleary, his memory wiped clean, the drugs erasing the night’s horrors—his vomit-soaked face, Manoj’s piss, Mom’s cum-shitting. 

He forgot it all, his confusion clear as he shuffled to the mirror, his face pale, unaware of the desecration, his stupidity infuriating me. I thought Dad was so stupid, his faith in Mom absolute, his small dick and quick fucks no match for Manoj’s relentless cock, his ignorance a pathetic shield against her betrayal. 

Mom helped him tie his tie, her fingers nimble, her red dress replaced by a modest blue saree, the silk dbanging her curves softly, her boobs and ass still enticing beneath the folds, her face a mask of wifely devotion, her eyes warm, concealing the whore within.

They spoke, their conversation tender, Mom playing the perfect wife, her voice gentle, her lies flawless, as I watched, marveling at her deception, thinking what a liar she was, her sanctity a veil for her cum-filled asshole.

Mom: Amit, your tie’s perfect now, you look so sharp, my love. You’ll nail that meeting, I know it. Want some coffee before you head out?

Dad: Thanks, Rekha, you always make me feel ready. I’m still fuzzy, rough night, I guess. You’re sure everything’s alright?

Mom: Everything’s perfect, Amit, just focus on your day, you’re all set. I’ll have dinner waiting when you’re back, darling. You’re my rock, go shine.

Dad: Fuzzy… yeah, must be work stress. Love you, Rekha, you’re the best. I’ll see you tonight, okay?

Mom: Love you too, Amit, always. Get to that meeting, you’ll be amazing. I’ll be here, keeping our home just right for you.

Mom’s performance was seamless, her smile radiant, her hands soft, as she adjusted his tie, her saree a disguise for her sin, her heart a deceiver’s vault, her asshole’s looseness hidden, her affair with Manoj a secret I now cherished, my thoughts a mix of contempt for Dad’s naivety and awe at Mom’s cunning, her whorish truth a flame I couldn’t quench.

[Rajeev Gupta]

Dad was ready for his meeting, his shirt crisp, his tie neat, thanks to Mom’s careful hands, but his eyes were tired, his face blank, like he’d forgotten everything: last night's mom vomit, the piss, the cum Mom shat on his face, all erased by the drug he was given by mom. 

He didn’t know his wife was banged twice now by Manoj, her pussy and asshole stretched by Manoj’s big cock, her holy body turned into a whore’s playground. 

I thought Dad was so stupid, so blind, his small dick no match for Manoj’s power, his trust in Mom making him a fool, a pathetic man who couldn’t see the truth under his nose. 


Dad came to me, his hand patting my head, his smile soft but confused, as he said goodbye, his voice a bit slow from the drugs still in him.

Dad: Sanjay, I’m off to my meeting, be good for Mom, okay? I’ll see you tonight, buddy. You doing alright?

Me: Yeah, Dad, I’m fine, but… do you remember anything from last night? Like, anything weird that happened?

Dad: Last night? No, I don’t remember much, just passed out, I guess. Why you asking, Sanjay? Something happen?

Me: Never mind, Dad, it’s nothing, just wondering. Have a good meeting. You sure you’re okay?

Dad: I’m okay, kid, just tired, that’s all. Don’t worry about me, alright? Take care of Mom while I’m gone.

I nodded, but inside, I was boiling. Dad was so dumb, clueless that Mom’s holes were fucked raw, her asshole gaped wide, her pussy dripping for another man, while he snored through it all. 


He didn’t know she kissed Manoj, sucked his cock, shat cum on his face, and bathed with her lover, all while he lay drugged, a stupid, trusting fool who thought his wife was a saint. 


And the same mouth that my dad is kissing is the same mouth that was sucking a filthy dick yesternight. So disgusting!


I hated how unaware my dad was, how he couldn’t see the whore Mom had become, her body no longer his, her love a lie he swallowed whole.

Mom came from the bedroom, still pretending, her blue saree wrapped tight, the silk hugging her big boobs, her fat ass swaying, her face glowing with a fake smile, like she was the perfect wife. She bid Dad bye, her voice sweet, her eyes warm, hiding the sin deep inside.


Mom: Amit, safe travels, darling, do great at your meeting. I’ll have everything ready when you’re back. Love you so much.

Dad: Love you too, Rekha, you’re the best. I’ll be home for dinner. Keep the kids in line, okay?

Mom noticed Dad forgot his briefcase, and she ran after him, the saree flapping, her big ass shaking like jelly, the cheeks bouncing with each step, the fabric clinging to her curves, showing off her body. 

I knew her assholes was loose from Manoj’s fucking, her asshole a red, stretched rim, her pussy swollen, but they were getting tighter now, after Manoj's sex, the gape closing a bit.

Though her ass looked bigger, plumper, from the anal sex last night, her first time taking a cock in that filthy hole, the asscheeks flesh fuller, rounder, a mark of her new whorish life. 

Mom handed Dad his briefcase, smiling, holding herself as he walked to the bus station, her love for him shining in her eyes, but deep inside, she was a sinner, her heart torn between her husband and the thrill of Manoj’s cock. 

She came back, her saree swaying, and saw me looking at her, my eyes wide, a smile on my face, my heart now rooting for her affair.

Mom spoke, her voice curious, a bit worried, as she stood in the living room, her boobs heaving under the saree, her hands fidgeting.

Mom: Sanjay, why are you looking at me like that? Is something wrong, my boy? Come on, tell me what’s on your mind.

Me: I’m just happy to see you happy, Mom. You look nice today, smiling and stuff. It’s good to see you like this.

Mom: Oh, Sanjay, you’re so sweet, that’s why you’re my good boy. I’m happy because I have you and your dad. You two make me happy. You always make me feel better, you know that.

Me: Yeah, Mom, I like when you’re happy. Can we talk about last night, though? What were you and Manoj doing in the bedroom?

Mom’s face tightened, worry flashing in her eyes, her hands twisting the saree’s edge, as she tried to dodge my questions, her voice soft but shaky.

Mom: Sanjay, last night was nothing, just grown-up stuff you don’t need to worry about. Manoj was helping me with some massage, that’s all. Why are you asking about this now?

Me: But, Mom, I saw you naked with him, and you were sucking something you called a cock. What was that? Why were you doing that with Manoj?

Mom: Oh, honey, you shouldn’t have seen that, it was just a private moment. I told you it is normal for me and Manoj to get naked but you will not understand now. I wasn’t sucking anything, maybe you saw me fixing something for Manoj. Let’s not talk about this, okay? It’s not for kids.

Me: But I saw you kissing him, Mom, and you were screaming something, like about your ass and cum. What was all that? Why were you so loud?

Mom: Sanjay, you’re imagining things, I wasn’t screaming or kissing anyone. Maybe you heard the TV or something, it was late. Please, don’t think about this, it’s nothing important.

Me: Okay, but why was Dad asleep, and you were doing all that with Manoj? I saw you spit on Dad’s face, and there was gross stuff on him. What happened, Mom?

Mom: That wasn’t spitting, Sanjay, Dad just got sick, and I was cleaning him up. Manoj was helping me take care of things, that’s all. You’re too young to understand, so let’s drop this, alright?

I kept pressing, innocent, not suspicious, just a kid asking questions, my eyes big, my voice curious, as Mom squirmed, lying to keep me in the dark.

Me: Mom, was everything you did with Manoj good? I mean, all mothers are good, right? So what you did must be okay, yeah?

Mom hesitated, her lips tight, her eyes darting, but then she spoke, shameless, condoning her actions, thinking I was too young to know the truth, her voice steady now.

Mom: Yes, Sanjay, everything I did with Manoj was good, it was all fine. Sometimes grown-ups do things to help each other, and that’s what we were doing. Don’t worry, it’s all normal and okay.

Me: Really? That’s cool, Mom, I guess. In schoool, out teacher told us that kissing means love, and I saw you kiss Manoj last night. Do you love him, Mom?

Mom: What? When did you see that, Sanjay? I told you not to watch my bedroom secretly, it’s private! Why were you looking?

Me: I just saw it last night, Mom, I didn’t mean to. Why can’t I watch? And do you love Manoj since you kissed him, or do you love Dad more?

Mom: Sanjay, you shouldn’t spy on me, it’s not right for kids to see grown-up things. Yes, I kissed Manoj, and it means I care for him, but I love your dad so much more. I love our family, Amit, you,my heart is with you all, always.

Mom talked fast, her voice loud, explaining her love for Dad, her words piling up, trying to drown my questions, her hands waving, her saree slipping slightly, showing her cleavage.

She was freaking out by the hard and tough questions I was asking because she was worried if her mouth slipped, she would reveal everything but I already knew everything.

Mom: Your dad is my everything, Sanjay, he’s the man I married, the one I’ll always love. Manoj is just a friend who helps me sometimes, but my love for Amit is bigger than anything. Our family is my whole world, and I’ll never let anything hurt it, okay?

Me: Okay, Mom, but I still wanna know more. Like, I don't know the meaning of the word "cock" and why was Manoj’s cock in your mouth? Also what is the meaning of "ass"? And why was your ass all loose and stuff?

Mom: Sanjay, stop asking so many questions, you’re too young for this! Those things you saw, they weren’t what you think, just grown-up business. Please, let’s talk about something else, like schoool or your games.

Me: But, Mom, I saw you do all that, and I’m confused. Should I tell Dad what I saw? He’d wanna know, right? If all the things you did with Manoj are good things that all mothers do, then is it problem if I tell dad?

Mom’s face went pale, worry creasing her forehead, her hands shaking, as she spoke fast, her voice low, desperate to keep me quiet, offering a bribe.

Mom: No, Sanjay, don’t tell Dad, it’ll just worry him for no reason. I’ll buy you that toy car you wanted, the big red one, if you keep this between us. Please, don’t say anything to him, okay? After we head off to Pandit Ganesh's house, I will buy you the toy car.

Me: A toy car? Awesome, Mom, I won’t tell Dad, I promise. But why can’t I tell him? It’s just stuff I saw, right?

Mom: It’s not for Dad to hear, Sanjay, it’ll make him sad over nothing. I need you to be my good boy and keep it a secret, just for me. We’ll go to the mall soon, get that toy car I promised you last week, and everything will be fine, alright?

Me: Okay, Mom, I won’t tell, I like the tpy car idea. But why’s it a secret? Is it because of what you did with Manoj?

Mom: Yes, honey, it’s just private stuff, not for Dad or anyone to know. I’m trusting you to be strong and keep quiet, because you’re my special boy. Let’s not talk about this anymore, it’s all done now.

Me: Alright, Mom, I’ll stop. But you said we’re going to Pandit Ganesh again after the mall? Why do we have to see him?

Mom: We’re going to Pandit Ganesh to pray and make things right, Sanjay, it’s important for our family. He helps us stay blessed and happy. Why don’t you like him, honey? Tell me.

Me: I don’t like him, Mom, he’s creepy and always touching you weird when he prays. I don’t want him near you. Can we skip him this time?

Mom: Oh, Sanjay, Pandit Ganesh is just doing his rituals, it’s all part of the prayers, nothing bad. Touching is a must for him to perform his rituals in a good way. I need to see him to keep our family safe, so we’re going, okay? You’re my brave boy, you’ll come with me, and it’ll be fine.

Me: Fine, Mom, I’ll go, but I still don’t like him. Why do you need to pray so much? Is it because of Manoj?

Mom: It’s not about Manoj, Sanjay, it’s about keeping our home strong and blessed. Pandit Ganesh helps me feel better, that’s all. You’ll see, it’s a good thing, so let’s not worry about it.

I knew why Mom was going to Pandit Ganesh for the second time—to wash away the sins she did with Manoj, the fucking, the cum, the pissing, the pussy fuck, the anal fuck, all the filthy things that stained her soul. 

But I also knew Pandit Ganesh was a fake, using his “sin-washing” rituals to touch Mom’s private parts, his hands creeping under her saree, brushing her boobs, her pussy, her ass, pretending it was holy, when he was just a pervert taking advantage of her guilt. 

I loved how Manoj fucked Mom, his big cock stretching her asshole, making her scream, her body alive with sin, a secret I cheered for, my heart racing at her whorish freedom. 

But I didn’t like Ganesh touching her, his slimy fingers on her skin, his fake prayers a trick to grope her, a man unworthy of her body, unlike Manoj, who claimed her with power and lust. 

I hated Ganesh’s sneaky hands, his leering eyes, his lies, while I admired Manoj’s bold fucking, his cock a king in Mom’s holes, a thrill I wanted to keep, my support for Mom’s affair a fire that burned bright, my dislike for Ganesh a cold, sharp edge.

Mom hugged me, her saree soft, her boobs pressing against my shoulder, her arms warm, her love for me real, even if her heart was split between Dad and Manoj. 

The living room was quiet, the family portrait on the wall crooked, a happy lie of our broken home, the air now mixed with the floral spray Mom used to hide the bedroom’s stench. 

I stood there, my smile wide, my heart no longer angry but fully with Mom, her affair a secret I’d guard, her sin a story I’d cheer, my love for her now tied to her daring, her body a whore’s temple I admired, my thoughts a mix of joy for her and pity for Dad’s stupid, blind trust



Mom spoke, her voice soft but nervous, telling me her plans, her hands twisting the saree’s edge, her boobs bouncing a little with each breath.

Mom: Sanjay, I’m going to take a bath now, and then I need to call Shalini before we head to Pandit Ganesh’s house. Shalini’s my friend, and I have to talk to her about something private. You okay waiting here, my boy?

Me: Yeah, Mom, I’ll wait, no problem. Why do you need to call Shalini? Is it about the pandit or is it urgent or are we meeting her as well?

Mom: It’s just grown-up talk, Sanjay, nothing you need to think about. Shalini gives me advice sometimes, that’s all. Her advice are very good. Just stay here and be good, okay?

Me: Okay, Mom, I’ll stay. But is Shalini helping you with something big? You’ve been talking to her a lot lately.

Mom: It’s not a big deal, honey, just friend stuff, you know how women chat. I’ll be quick with my bath and call, then we’ll get ready to go. You’re my sweet boy for being patient, alright?

I nodded, but inside, I was wondering hard why Mom needed to talk to Shalini, her married friend who started all this trouble. Shalini was the one who messed Mom up, telling her to wear tight, slutty clothes, like that red dress that showed off her big boobs and fat ass during that party, making her look like a whore. 

Shalini changed Mom, turned her from a holy wife who prayed every day into a woman who fucked Manoj, screamed for his cock, sucked him, and shitted cum on Dad’s face. Basically, Shalini turned my mom to a slut.

I knew Mom was going to tell Shalini everything about her sex with Manoj—how his huge cock ripped her asshole open, how she kissed him, how she bathed with him, every dirty detail. She was looking for an advice from Shalini but mom was looking for advice from the wrong person.

Shalini would probably giggle, push Mom to do worse, make her even more of a slut, and I hated how Shalini’s words made Mom this way, but I loved seeing Mom’s slutty side, my dick getting stiff just thinking about her moans and loose holes loosened by Manoj's huge dick.

I watched Mom grab her phone and walk to the bathroom, her saree swinging, her fat ass shaking like it did when she chased Dad with his briefcase. 

I didn’t know why she took her phone, but I thought maybe she was going to send naked pictures to Manoj, her wet boobs and pussy snapped for him to jerk off to. 

But Mom wasn’t that far gone yet, not slutty enough to send nudes, still holding onto a tiny bit of shame, even after all the filthy stuff she did. 

Her body was curvy, her boobs big and heavy, her ass fat and round, her waist soft and smooth.

She started removing her clothes ready to bath. She was facing away from me. She removed her saree and that is when I saw her fat ass, the fat ass that was fucked so hard yesternight by Manoj.

She was wearing black panties which disappeared inside between her asscheeks.






After few minutes she was naked and in the shower and turned on the shower.

She closed her eyes, her face soft, maybe thinking about Manoj fucking her, his cock slamming into her cute tiny pussy and asshole, her screams loud in the bedroom. 






She ran her hands over her body, sliding them over her boobs, her nipples poking out, then down her belly, touching herself in a sexy way, water running over her curves, her skin buzzing with feeling.


Then, the most shocking thing in my life happened. I saw Mom’s right hand slide down to her pussy, her fingers touching the puffy lips, her left hand grabbing her boobs, squeezing them, pinching her nipples. 

I begged in my head for her not to think of Manoj, not to let him control her like this, but her eyes stayed closed, her body starting to shake like she was nervous.






Then she started talking to herself.


Mom: Oh, Rekha, please don’t do this, don’t start touching yourself now. You’re a good wife, you can’t think of that man. Stop it, don’t let this happen.

Mom: I’m trying so hard, but my body’s hot, it’s begging for it. I know it’s wrong, I have Amit, my husband. Please, don’t let me fall into this mess. Ooh what am I doing?

Mom: I can’t believe I’m even thinking about this, it’s not who I am. I love my family, I can’t let this take over me. God, help me stop before I go too far.

Her right hand started rubbing her pussy, slow at first, her fingers circling the wet lips, pressing gently, her eyes squeezed shut, her body shivering under the shower’s hot water. 

She turned away, her fat ass facing me, the cheeks big and full, water dripping between them, her curves shaking as she rubbed harder, her fingers moving faster. 





I didn’t understand what was going on, my heart banging in my chest, asking myself if she was remembering Manoj, his big cock in her ass, his hands slapping her cheeks, his cum shooting inside her. 

My dick was getting hard, even though I hated it, seeing Mom’s slutty side, her hands moving, her body trembling, the water making her skin glow.

She again started talking to herself.

Mom: "What am I doing, Rekha? This is so bad, I can’t touch myself like this, I have a husband. I’m not supposed to be this kind of woman, stop it now. I know it’s wrong, but it feels so good, my body won’t stop. I’m begging God to forgive me, but I can’t pull my hands away. Please, save me from this sin"


She continued talking to herself because she couldn't believe what she was doing.

"I’m fighting it, but my fingers keep moving, it’s like I’m not in control. Amit deserves better, I can’t betray him like this. Why can’t I just be a good wife to my husband? Why am I turning into a... sl..slu...ooh I can't say that name no no no, I am not that kind of a woman"

Her left hand slid between her asscheeks, her fingers disappearing into the crack, maybe touching her loose asshole, the red rim still stretched wide from Manoj’s fucking. 






I didn’t know what she was doing, my head spinning, asking myself over and over if she was thinking of Manoj, picturing his cock, his hard thrusts, his cum filling her up. 

My dick was rock hard now, standing up in my pants, seeing Mom like this, her hands working her pussy and ass, her body shaking, her slutty side taking over, water splashing around her.

Her rubbing got faster, her right hand digging into her pussy, fingers sliding in and out, wet and shiny, her left hand pressing deeper between her asscheeks, maybe fingering her asshole, her body jerking like she was losing control. 




Her moans came out loud, echoing in the bathroom, her voice desperate, her boobs bouncing, water flying off her skin. She was moaning so hard and loud that she forgot I was in the house. She was really risking it.

But who is she thinking about as she is masturbating?





I asked myself why she was doing this in the morning, something I never saw her do, her holy hands now filthy, her praying face twisted with pleasure, her body alive with sin.

In the morning, she used to pray first thing. But today morning, she is in the bathroom moaning while rubbing her pussy. She even forgot praying.



She continued to speak to herself.

Mom: AAAAHHHH UUUHHHH YYESSS, OH GOD, IT FEELS SO GOOD, I CAN’T STOP! MY BODY’S BURNING, PLEASE, KEEP GOING! OOHHH YYESSS, I NEED THIS SO BAD! Ooh let me continue rubbing my pussy ooohhhhh


Mom: What kind of woman am I turning into, I can’t stop thinking about you, look what you turned me into. This isn’t me, I’m not this person.

Mom: I’m falling apart, my hands won’t listen, it’s too much pleasure. I’m not supposed to be like this, I have a family. Why am I letting this happen?

Mom: I’m begging myself to stop, but my body’s screaming for more. I can’t believe I’m doing this in the shower while my husband is working, it’s so wrong. God, please, don’t let me keep going.

I asked myself who she was talking about while she was masturbating, my heart pounding like a drum, hoping it was Dad, praying she was thinking of her husband, not Manoj. 

But everything pointed to Manoj—her wild moans, her fast fingers, her shaking body, all too much like when she fucked him. Then, I got shocked—she moaned Manoj’s name, maybe by mistake, her voice cutting through the shower’s noise.

Mom: OOHHH, MANOJ, YESSS—oh no, what did I just say?

She froze, her eyes popping open, her hand slapping over her mouth, shame all over her face, her body still trembling, water dripping down her boobs and ass. 

She talked to herself, her voice quiet, cursing her mistake for calling Manoj's name, begging for forgiveness, her hands stuck, her pussy and asshole wet and tight.

Mom: How could I say his Manoj's name, I’m supposed to think of Amit, my husband, not that man. Almighty, please forgive me, I’m so sorry for this sin. I am so shameful.

Mom: I’m disgusting, letting Manoj’s name slip out, what’s wrong with me? I love Amit, he’s my life, not Manoj. God, help me clean my heart, I beg you.


She continued speaking to herself.


Mom: Shalini was right, she said all married women are sluts, and look at me, rubbing myself like this while thinking of that Manoj. But I’m not a slut, I’m a good mother, a good wife. I love my family, I’m not this bad woman, I swear.

Mom: I’m lying to myself, I know I’m falling, but I won’t let this ruin me. I’m still Rekha, Amit’s wife, Sanjay’s mom, not Manoj’s whore. Please, God, make me good again.

Mom: I can’t keep doing this, I have to stop, but my body’s still shaking. Shalini pushed me into this, but I’m better than this. I’m fighting to be the woman I was, I promise.

I finally got the answer—Mom was a full slut now, her body belonging to Manoj’s cock, her mind stuck on his fucking, her holy life gone in two nights. 

I asked myself if she could ever forget Manoj, if she could go back to being Dad’s praying wife, but her moans, her hands, her shame said no. 

She changed so fast, from a saree-wearing woman chanting prayers to Manoj’s slut, screaming for cum, rubbing her pussy in the shower, her asshole loose, her heart torn between love and sin. 


Things were real now, my Mom a whore, and I loved it, my dick hard, my heart racing, cheering her sin, even as I hoped she’d fight it, my head a mess of excitement and worry, knowing she was lost to Manoj’s power.




Next update coming soon.......

Guys what do you think. Give me your thoughts!!

[aravindkkumar08]

Nice update. Now Rekha become full sex maniac. Ishow about story contains threesome with Manoj and Sanjay or foursome or group s**x

[sexypreeti]

This is the most beautiful story ever. If you think it's a garbage, then you are a garbage yourself for wasting yourself reading garbage. You are a fucking bastard.

Plus secondly, the author's has more reputation than you, he got more views on this thread than any you created. Of all your thread, non passed more than 50K views which means the author's story is more valuable and more credible than yours.

So shut tha fuck up and be humbled bitch! You are just a obsolete author who is just seeking validation to replenish your lost views. Idiot!

It is very wrong to compare authors... You should be mature enough to understand that... Everyone has their own style of narrating things...

This story was beginning to steer in a good direction, then again spun out...

Also Thank You for the rest of your Wise words...

*************************

Here you go...just my thoughts...
------
He didn’t know his wife was banged twice now by Manoj, her pussy and asshole stretched by Manoj’s big cock, her holy body turned into a whore’s playground.

And then this...Like son could see thru her clothes...

I knew her assholes was loose from Manoj’s fucking, her asshole a red, stretched rim, her pussy swollen, but they were getting tighter now, after Manoj's sex, the gape closing a bit.
-------
Reference to the first extract written above from this same chapter...

Me: But, Mom, I saw you naked with him, and you were sucking something you called a cock. What was that? 

Me: But I saw you kissing him, Mom, and you were screaming something, like about your ass and cum. What was all that? 

I kept pressing, innocent, not suspicious, just a kid asking questions, my eyes big, my voice curious, as Mom squirmed, lying to keep me in the dark.

She was freaking out by the hard and tough questions I was asking because she was worried if her mouth slipped, she would reveal everything but I already knew everything.

-------------

The living room was quiet, the family portrait on the wall crooked, 

I stood there, my smile wide, my heart no longer angry but fully with Mom, 

I watched Mom grab her phone and walk to the bathroom

She started removing her clothes ready to bath. She was facing away from me. 

After few minutes she was naked and in the shower and turned on the shower.

Her right hand started rubbing her pussy, slow at first, her fingers circling the wet lips, pressing gently, her eyes squeezed shut, her body shivering under the shower’s hot water. her curves shaking as she rubbed harder, her fingers moving faster.

Sanjay is able to watch all this from the living room/ Bedroom Keyhole...

And then this...

I didn’t understand what was going on, my heart banging in my chest, 

My dick was getting hard, even though I hated it, seeing Mom’s slutty side, her hands moving, her body trembling

Her left hand slid between her asscheeks, her fingers disappearing into the crack, maybe touching her loose asshole, the red rim still stretched wide from Manoj’s fucking.

I didn’t know what she was doing, my head spinning

My dick was rock hard now, standing up in my pants, seeing Mom like this, her hands working her pussy and ass

------------

Her rubbing got faster, her right hand digging into her pussy, fingers sliding in and out, wet and shiny

her left hand pressing deeper between her asscheeks, maybe fingering her asshole

She definitely could put a gymnast to shame with such flexibility to Simultaneously pleasure both her holes with two hands without using dildos etc...
-------------
A college student who loves playing with a toy car...definitely a PHD student wanting to re-invent a new car...

My name is Sanjay Yadav, and I’m a young student still in college - First chapter!

Me: Okay, Mom, I won’t tell, I like the tpy car idea. 

---------------
and I saw “Shalini Aunty” flash on the caller ID. Shalini is Mom’s friend

So Shalini is also mom's "aunty"? which is why is is saved as "Shalini Aunty" on her phone...
--------------


So just chilll...I haven't even started yet...

I respect Rajeev and there is no doubt about it... So either the opening line of "200% real " shouldnt have been there or this could have been narrated more "realistically"...

[aravindkkumar08]

Preethiji with due respect.some one already told you, if you are not like the story then don't read it. Every author is having different thoughts and we should respect to that. In the name of comments we should not degrade others. This is my opinion

[sexypreeti]

Preethiji with due respect.some one already told you, if you are not like the story then don't read it. Every author is having different thoughts and we should respect to that. In the name of comments we should not degrade others. This is my opinion

Thank You. I understand...

This was such a good story with an awesome plot which really struck a chord with me... So I guess I took it very personally...

Thanks Again 

[Rajeev Gupta]

Preethiji with due respect.some one already told you, if you are not like the story then don't read it. Every author is having different thoughts and we should respect to that. In the name of comments we should not degrade others. This is my opinion

No need to tell him, he will refer to stories as garbage but then read the garbage himself. It's like calling a sewer "sewerage" but then going back and drinking the "sewerage" filth. ??. He doesn't understand what he is doing but I am glad he reads my garbage.

It's refreshing to know we can shit and other people eat our shit. Lovely world we live in.

[Mahendra_]

No need to tell him, he will refer to stories as garbage but then read the garbage himself. It's like calling a sewer "sewerage" but then going back and drinking the "sewerage" filth. ??. He doesn't understand what he is doing but I am glad he reads my garbage.

It's refreshing to know we can shit and other people eat our shit. Lovely world we live in.

Hahahaha exactly! You are better than him. All those years he writes stories & couple of threads that never even reached 50k views. 

You wrote just thread in few months and it's getting to 60k already. That's why he is jealous & salty. He craves relevancy but we will try to give him one. Hahahahah

[Veerasammy1]

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!


Awesome Story friend your depiction of your mom and matching the images are great if you need ideas or help with sourcing images check messages I am more than happy to help

[Rajeev Gupta]

Her wet hair stuck to her shoulders, droplets falling to the floor, her face red with shame from rubbing her pussy and ass in the shower, moaning Manoj’s name by mistake, cursing herself for thinking of him instead of Dad. 

I hid outside the door, my heart pounding, my dick hard in my pants, knowing Mom was a full slut now, her praying days gone, her body owned by Manoj’s cock. I loved her slutty side, cheering her sin, but I worried she’d never go back to being Dad’s holy wife.

Mom’s phone rang, a loud buzz that made her jump, her hand grabbing the towel, almost dropping it, her boobs bouncing. She snapped out of her thoughts, her eyes wide, her breath quick, and talked to herself, her voice shaky and scared.

I wondered who could be calling her now at this intense moment she is having. Mom started talking to herself...

Mom: Oh no, who’s calling me now? I’m still messed up from touching myself in the shower. Please, don’t let it be Amit, I can’t talk to him like this.

Mom: It’s probably nothing, Rekha, just check the phone and stay calm. My hands are shaking, I need to pull myself together. What if someone knows what I did with Manoj?

She picked up the phone, her fingers slipping, and saw it was Shalini, because later when she put it on loudspeaker, I heard her speaking her friend who pushed her into this dirty life. Mom’s face went pale, her lips trembling, as she talked to herself again, her voice full of shock.

Mom spoke to herself again, she usually speaks to herself in slightly audible voice.

Mom: Shalini? Why’s is this whorish woman calling me right now, after I thought of Manoj in the shower? This feels like a sign, it’s too much to handle.

Mom: I don’t want to talk to her, she’ll make me feel like a slutty woman, but I can’t ignore her call. She’s the one who got me into this mess with Manoj. God, please give me strength to face her.

Mom put the call on loudspeaker, like she always does, her hands too busy to hold the phone. She set it on the counter, next to the wet towel, and started wiping her body, the towel sliding over her boobs, her belly, her fat ass shaking with each move, water dripping onto the tiles, her wet hair leaving trails on her back. 

Her face was still flushed, her eyes darting to the phone, scared but ready to talk.

Mom: Hello, Shalini, it’s nice to hear from you. How are you doing today? I’ve been so busy with Sanjay and Amit, it’s been a while.

Shalini: Hey, Rekha, I’m doing awesome, living my best life. How about you, girl? I miss you so much, we need to hang out soon.

Mom: I’m okay, Shalini, just keeping things together at home. I miss you too, but I don’t like how you act sometimes, you’re too wild. How’s everything with you and Ravi your husband?

Shalini: Oh, Rekha, you’re so sweet, worrying about me. Ravi’s the same, boring as ever, working all the time. I’m still seeing Rakesh, and his cock is so big, it drives me crazy every time.

Mom: Shalini, you shouldn’t talk like that, it’s wrong to cheat on Ravi. You need to stop seeing Rakesh and be a good wife. Don’t you feel guilty for what you’re doing?

Shalini: Guilty? Haha, Rekha, you’re too funny, I don’t feel bad at all. Rakesh fucks me so good, makes me scream louder than Ravi ever could. Why waste my life on boring when I can have hot? If I continue lying to Ravi without him knowing, then I am fine.

Mom: I can’t believe you’re so shameless, Shalini, it’s not right. I’m trying to be good, but you make it hard with your talk. Anyway, something happened with me, I need to tell you.

Shalini: Oh, Rekha, don’t tease me, what happened? Did you do something naughty? Come on, spill it, I’m dying to hear every detail!

Mom: It’s hard to say, Shalini, but last night, I… I slept with Manoj. I let him do everything—my pussy, my mouth, even my ass. I feel so ashamed, I don’t know why I did it.

Shalini: Holy shit, Rekha, you fucked Manoj? That’s amazing, girl, congratulations, you’re a star! I’m so happy you finally let loose, tell me more!

Mom: Congratulations? Shalini, why are you saying that? I feel like I betrayed Amit and Sanjay, it’s not something to be proud of. Why do you think this is good?

Shalini: Because you’re a slut now, Rekha, and that’s the best thing ever! I told you before, all women are sluts, we’re made to fuck and feel good. You’re winning, girl, living for yourself, not just Amit. If Amit doesn't fuck you good, then cheat on him. Life is short, continue enjoying.

Mom: No, Shalini, I’m not a slut, I’m a good wife to Amit, a good mom to Sanjay. What I did with Manoj was a mistake, I’m not like you. I can’t live this way, it’s wrong.

Shalini: Stop pretending, Rekha, you’re already a slut, you fucked Manoj and you loved it. Don’t act like you’re some holy saint now. Did you enjoy his cock, be honest with me?

Mom: Okay, Shalini, I hate to admit it, but yes, I enjoyed it, it felt so good. My body was shaking, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting more. But that doesn’t mean I’m a slut, I’m just confused.

Shalini: Confused? Haha, just hear yourself talking like a slut saying and admitting that you loved it, you’re a slut, Rekha, and it’s awesome! Do you want to see Manoj again, get that cock back inside you? Tell me you’re craving him.

Mom: No, Shalini, I don’t want to see him again, it’s too much for me. I feel like a slut, and I hate that feeling, I want to be good. My husband or maybe Sanjay will know if I continue seeing Manoj, I can’t keep hurting Amit like this.

Shalini: That slutty feeling is the greatest, Rekha, it’s like being free, alive, a real woman. When Rakesh fucks me, I feel like a queen, not just Ravi’s boring wife. You felt that with Manoj, right? That fire in your body, that rush?

Mom: Yes, I felt it, Shalini, but it’s tearing me apart inside. It’s not freedom, it’s shame, I’m losing who I am. Why do you think being a slut is so wonderful?

Shalini: Because it’s power, Rekha, power over boring men like Amit and Ravi. When you fuck Manoj, you’re not just a mom or wife, you’re a goddess. Let that slutty feeling take over, it’s what makes life worth living.

Mom: Power? It feels like I’m falling, Shalini, like I’m becoming someone bad. I don’t want to be a goddess, I want to be Amit’s wife, Sanjay’s mom. I can’t let this feeling win, I just can’t.

Shalini: You’re already winning, Rekha, you just don’t see it yet. You said Manoj fucked your ass, girl? Tell me he pounded that tight little hole!

Mom: Yes, Shalini, he fucked my ass, and it hurt so bad, I didn’t like it. It felt wrong, like I was breaking something inside me. Why do you think anal is such a big deal?

Shalini: Because anal’s the real deal, Rekha, all sluts take it in the ass! Nowadays pussy is boring. I too don't like to be fucked in the pussy only, me and Rakesh do add anal sex for dessert! It’s like a prize, shows you’re not some plain wife anymore. You’re a full slut now, girl, that’s huge!

Mom: No, Shalini, I don’t want to be a full slut, it feels so bad. I’m a good wife, a good mom, I can’t let this take over my life. I need to stay true to my family, not this dirty stuff.

Shalini: Grow up, Rekha, stop acting like a scared little girl, be a woman! You fucked Manoj, took his cock in your ass, you’re a slut, same as me with Rakesh. Quit pretending you’re too good for this, embrace it.

Mom: I’m not pretending, Shalini, I’m fighting to keep my family safe. I don’t want to be like you, losing myself in this sin. I’m done talking about being a slut, it’s making me sick.

Shalini: Sick? You’re just scared of how good it feels, Rekha. What else is going on, girl? You’re hiding something, I know you are.

Mom: I don’t want to talk about it, Shalini, it’s too shameful, I can’t say it. Something happened in the bathroom just now, but it’s private. Please, don’t make me tell you.

Shalini: Oh, come on, Rekha, you can’t hold out on me, spill it! I am your friend, we promised not to hide anything from each other. What did you do in the bathroom, you naughty girl? Tell me, I’m your best friend.

Mom: Okay, Shalini, I’m so ashamed, but I… I touched myself in the shower, thinking of Manoj. I rubbed my pussy, my ass, I said his name, I couldn’t stop. I don’t know what’s happening to me, what does this mean?

Shalini: Damn, Rekha, that’s so hot, you masturbated thinking of Manoj? You’re a total slut, girl, this is perfect! It means you’re hooked, your body wants him, it’s the best thing ever! Your body doesn't want Amit, it craves for Manoj's body. It's the best thing.

Mom: The best thing? Shalini, it’s awful, I feel like I’m cheating on Amit even more. If I keep seeing Manoj, will I stop loving Amit? I’m scared I’ll lose my family.

Shalini: Losing interest in Amit is great, Rekha, it’s what you need. Amit’s boring, dragging you down, while Manoj’s cock lights you up. Rakesh makes me forget Ravi, and it’s freedom, you’ll love it.

Mom: How can you say that, Shalini? Amit’s my husband, I love him, I don’t want to forget him. You’re wrong, I’m not throwing away my marriage like you.

Shalini: Oh, Rekha, you’re so stuck, Amit’s just holding you back. Manoj’s your real man, his cock owns you now. Let Amit go, live for the fuck, like me with Rakesh.

Mom: Stop it, Shalini, I’m not listening to this, you’re making me feel worse. I love Amit, I love Sanjay, I’m not giving up my family for Manoj. You’re going too far, I can’t take it.

Shalini: Too far? You’re already there, Rekha, you’ll be begging for Manoj’s cock soon. Keep acting holy, but you’re a slut, and you know it deep down.

Mom: Whatever! Hey! I’m going to see Pandit Ganesh today, Shalini, to pray and clean this sin from my heart. I need to be a good wife and mom again, not this. I’m not going back to Manoj, I promise.

Shalini: Pandit Ganesh? That’s a joke, Rekha, those prayers won’t change a thing. You’ll be back with Manoj, spreading your legs, fucking him again. Sluts like us can’t stay away, you’ll see.

Mom: No, Shalini, I’m going, and I’ll prove I’m stronger than this sin. Your filthy talk makes me feel like a whore, I can’t stand it. I’m hanging up, I’m done with this.

Shalini: Hanging up? What’s wrong, Rekha, can’t handle the truth? You’re a slut, just like me, and you’ll fuck Manoj again, I know it.

Mom: Goodbye, Shalini, I’m not listening to you anymore. I’m better than this, I’m not your kind of woman. Don’t call me until you can talk like a friend.

Mom slammed her finger on the phone, ending the call, her towel slipping down, showing her big boobs and fat ass, her face tight with anger, her eyes wet, her lips shaking. 

Her cheeks were red, her breath heavy, but then her expression changed, a small smile spreading across her face, her eyes sparkling, her mouth curling up. I knew Mom loved Shalini’s dirty words, the way they made her feel like a slut, her heart secretly excited by the thought of being a whore, even though she fought it hard.

I was angry, my hands balled into fists, my chest tight, hating how Shalini talked about Dad, calling him boring, saying Mom should forget him. Dad was clueless, trusting Mom while she fucked Manoj, but he didn’t deserve this disrespect, his love for her real, even if he was too dumb to see her sin. 


My heart pounded, my dick still hard from watching Mom in the shower, but my head was spinning, torn between loving Mom’s slutty side and hating Shalini’s cruel words about my family. I stood there, hidden by the door, my sneakers squeaking on the floor, my mind a mess, cheering Mom’s affair but burning with rage at Shalini’s voice



Mom got out of the bathroom, she didn't even wear a towel, she just walked outside of the bathroom just naked, her thick ass swaying, her heavy breasts bouncing. 





I ran back to the sitting room, my safe hiding space, my sneakers squeaking on the floor. I sat on our sitting room couch, my heart pounding, pretending I wasn’t spying, my dick still stiff from seeing Mom’s body. 

Mom took a long time in her bedroom, the door half-open, clothes scattered on the bed. I crept closer back to her bedroom, I stood at the door, peeking through the keyhole, seeing her standing in her underwear, her massive, round breasts spilling over her bra, her plump, wide ass barely covered by panties.








She held up dresses, sarees in bright colors, looking confused, muttering to herself, wondering what to wear for Pandit Ganesh’s house. She tried a green saree, then a red one, tossing them aside, her thick thighs jiggling, her navel deep and soft, her body a sinful sight. 


Finally, she picked an orange saree, wrapping it tight around her curves, the fabric hugging her like a second skin, her face set, like she was choosing to be bold.


Mom came out, her orange saree shining, her massive breasts straining against the blouse, her huge, round ass swaying, the fabric clinging to her curves. She found me standing in the sitting room, my eyes wide, my mouth open, shocked at how she looked, so different from her usual plain sarees. I spoke, my voice high, complimenting her, asking questions, trying to sound innocent.






Me: Wow, Mom, you look so pretty in that dress, it’s amazing. Why are you wearing something so fancy just to go to Pandit Ganesh’s house? Isn’t it too much for praying?

Mom: Thank you, Sanjay, I just wanted to wear something nice today, that’s all. I have never worn this, so I thought I’d dress up a bit. It’s not too much, it’s just a saree.

Me: I never saw you wear this orange one before, Mom, it’s so bright. When did you buy it? Did you get it for something special or what?

Mom: Oh, Sanjay, I bought it a while ago, just never had a chance to wear it. It’s been in my closet for months, nothing special about it. I just felt like trying it today, okay?

Me: Okay, but it looks really new, Mom. Did Shalini tell you to get it? She always talks about fancy clothes, right?

Mom: No, Sanjay, Shalini didn’t pick this, I chose it myself. I like to have nice things sometimes, even if I don’t wear them much. Let’s get ready to go, we don’t want to be late.

The orange saree was so tight, it showed every curve of Mom’s body, a loud sign she was leaving her holy ways for a slut’s life. The blouse squeezed her massive, full breasts, the fabric stretching, her nipples faintly visible, her cleavage deep and round, begging for eyes. 

The saree clung to her soft navel, the dip exposed, a tempting hollow above her belly. It wrapped her thick thighs, the material outlining their shape, each step making them jiggle, the hem high enough to tease. 

Her huge, plump ass was the star, the saree gripping its round cheeks, swaying like ripe fruit, the crack faintly traced, a whore’s badge, no longer the ass of a praying wife but a slut’s prize, stretched by Manoj’s cock. 

This dress screamed her new life, a bold step from sarees that hid her curves to one that shouted her sin, her holiness traded for sluttiness, her body a lure for lust.

We walked to Pandit Ganesh’s house, the streets busy, men turning their heads, their eyes locked on Mom’s assets. Her massive breasts bounced with each step, her blouse tight, drawing stares from shopkeepers and passersby. 

Her huge, round ass swayed, the saree accentuating its plumpness, men whispering, some licking their lips, their gazes hungry. I noticed, my face hot, confused but not suspicious, just a kid wondering why Mom was different today.







Me: Mom, why are all the men staring at you today? It’s like they can’t stop looking at your dress. Is it because it’s so bright?

Mom: Oh, Sanjay, they’re probably just noticing the orange color, it’s very eye-catching. Men look at bright things, that’s all, nothing to worry about. Let’s keep walking, okay?

Me: But they’re looking a lot, Mom, more than usual. Is it the way the saree fits? It’s really tight, isn’t it?

Mom: It’s just a saree, Sanjay, maybe it’s new to them, I don’t wear this one often. People notice new things, that’s normal. Don’t think too much about it, we’re almost there.

Me: Okay, Mom, but it feels weird, like they’re staring at you, not the dress. Do you like when people look? Does it make you feel good?

Mom: Sanjay, I don’t care if people look, I’m just wearing what I like. It doesn’t mean anything, I’m focused on getting to Pandit Ganesh. Let’s hurry, we don’t want to keep him waiting.

We reached Pandit Ganesh’s house, a small building with a wooden door, prayer flags hanging outside, the air smelling of incense. We knocked, and Pandit appeared, his eyes widening, his mouth dropping as he saw Mom. 

He gazed at her in lust, his stare crawling over her massive, round breasts, the tight blouse showing her curves, then down to her thick thighs and her wide hips, the saree hugging every inch. 

Saliva dripped from the side of his mouth, a shiny trail of lust, his face flushed, his eyes hungry, like he was starving for her body. I saw it, my stomach twisting, angry that a holy man was such a pervert, his drool a disgusting sign of his sin, not the purity I expected.

Pandit spoke, his voice oily, greeting Mom, his eyes never leaving her curves, barely noticing me.

Pandit: Rekha, welcome, I didn’t expect you again so soon. You look so beautiful today, this saree is stunning. Hello, Sanjay, good to see you too.

Mom: Pandit Ji, thank you for seeing us, I needed to come back for prayers. I’m surprised you say that about my saree, you don’t usually compliment wives. We’re here for something important.
 
Pandit: Sanjay, don’t rush, prayers take time, you know that. Rekha, your beauty shines today, it’s a gift from God. Come inside, both of you, let’s begin.

Mom’s face was shocked, her eyes wide, not used to Pandit complimenting her, especially as another man’s wife, his words crossing a line. He ushered us into his house, a dim room with a small altar, incense burning, a bed in the corner covered with a red cloth. 

As Mom walked in, Pandit’s eyes locked on her huge, round ass, the saree clinging to its plump cheeks, shaking like waves in a stormy sea, each step making it quiver, a sinful dance. 







I saw him rub his penis through his dhoti, his lips bitten, his face twisted with lust. I was angry, my fists clenched, expecting a religious man to be good, not a pervert like Manoj, his actions a betrayal of his holy role. 

I didn’t understand why Mom’s thick, massive ass drew every man’s eyes, its round, heavy shape a magnet, but I knew Manoj, the man who fucked my mom's asshole, was the luckiest, his cock having fucked the most beautiful ass, stretching it wide, claiming it as his prize.

Pandit brought us drinks, sweet mango juice in metal cups, his hands shaky as he stared at Mom. I sat on a wooden chair, its legs creaky, while Pandit told Mom to sit on his bed, not the mat where women usually sat for rituals. 

My eyes narrowed, knowing this wasn’t normal, sensing he was a pervert, his bed a trap, not a prayer spot. Mom frowned, her face confused, wondering why he’d ask her to sit there, her saree tight as she stood.

Pandit: Rekha, please sit on the bed, it’s more comfortable for our talk. The mat is too hard for such a special visitor. Sanjay, take a chair, relax.

Mom’s thighs expanded as she sat, the saree stretching over their thick, soft shape, her legs parted slightly, the fabric outlining her curves. Pandit’s eyes fixed on her thighs, his gaze hungry, his mouth twitching, lust written all over his face. Mom spoke, her voice firm, telling me to leave, not wanting me to hear her confessions.

Mom: Sanjay, go to the next room like last time, okay? I need to talk to Pandit Ji alone about private things. It won’t take long, just wait there.

Me: Okay, Mom, but why do I always have to go? Can’t I stay and listen? I won’t tell anyone, I promise.

Mom: No, Sanjay, these are grown-up matters, you can’t hear them. Be my good boy and wait in the other room. I’ll call you when we’re done, alright?

Me: Fine, Mom, I’ll go, but I don’t like leaving you here. Is everything okay? You sure you need to talk alone?

Mom: Everything’s fine, Sanjay, I just need to pray and talk with Pandit Ji. It’s important for me, so please go wait. You’re helping me by doing this, okay?


I walked to the next room, my sneakers heavy, my heart burning with anger, leaving Mom with this pervert, his drooling mouth and rubbing hands making me sick. 

The room was small, a mat on the floor, a window letting in dusty light, the air thick with incense. I sat, my fists tight, hating Pandit’s fake holiness, knowing he’d try something with Mom, his lust a disgrace to his prayers.

In the main room, Pandit spoke, his voice smooth but pushy, asking Mom why she came again, his eyes still on her thighs, her massive breasts, her plump ass sinking into the bed.

Pandit: Rekha, why are you back so soon? Something must be troubling you, I can see it in your face. Tell me, what sin needs cleansing today?

Mom: Pandit Ji, I… I don’t know where to start, it’s hard to say. I came to pray, to fix something wrong I did. I need God’s help, but I’m scared.

Pandit: Scared? Rekha, you’re safe here, God listens through me. Is it about your husband, Amit? Or maybe something else, a secret you’re hiding?

Mom: No, it’s not Amit, not exactly, I mean… I can’t say it yet. You’re wrong, it’s not what you think. I just need to pray, that’s all.

Pandit: Don’t hide, Rekha, I’ve seen many sins, I can guess yours. A woman like you, so beautiful, maybe tempted by another man? Tell me, I won’t judge you.

Mom: No, Pandit Ji, it’s not that simple, please don’t guess. I’m trying to be good, but it’s hard to talk about. I need time to say it right.

Pandit: Take your time, Rekha, but God wants truth, you know that. You’ve sinned, haven’t you? Something big, I can feel it, let it out.

Mom: I… I think I made a mistake coming here, Pandit Ji. This is too much, I shouldn’t have come to say this. I need to go, I’m not ready.

Mom stood, her saree tight, her thick thighs brushing together, her huge, round ass jiggling, but Pandit grabbed her waist, his fingers digging into her soft skin, his face close, his voice low and fake-kind. 

Mom didn’t even feel his touch, her mind too caught in her shame, her eyes down, her hands shaking.

Pandit: Rekha, sit down, don’t run from God’s help. I’m here to comfort you, to guide you back to purity. Tell me your sin, let me fix it for you.

Mom: Pandit Ji, I don’t know, I’m so confused, I want to leave. This feels wrong, talking about it here. Please, let me go think about it.

Pandit: No, Rekha, you’re safe, sit and trust me, God’s with us. Your heart’s heavy, I can see it, share your burden. You’re too beautiful to carry this alone.

Mom: Okay, Pandit Ji, I’ll sit, but I’m scared, I don’t know if I can say it. I want to be good, for Amit, for Sanjay. Please, just help me pray, nothing else.

Mom sat back down, her thighs spreading again, her saree tight, her massive breasts heaving, her plump ass sinking into the bed, Pandit’s hand lingering on her waist, his eyes gleaming, his lust hidden behind a fake smile. 


I sat in the next room, my heart pounding, angry, hating this man, knowing he was no holy guide but a pervert, his touch on Mom a sin worse than hers.





Next update is coming guys...

Give me your thoughts or what you guys want to happen

[aravindkkumar08]

Thanks bro. It's been hot update. Request not to stop story inbetween. The story writing is tremendous and request not to delete any stories.is it possible to re-upload the deleted story.

[aravindkkumar08]

We should appreciate some author writes erotic stories such a way that you are the part of it and enjoy a lot.As a part of reader I should appreciate you are one of that. Keep going buddy

[Chandan]

amazing story 

bring more pervert male characters

[Xossiy]

Send your mother out of town for a week and then come back and change your mind. Jano, the boy doesn't go with har 

[Rajeev Gupta]

Pandit: Rekha, you came here for a reason, don’t hide your sin from God. Tell me what you did, I can see it’s heavy on your heart. What happened to make you so scared?

Mom: Pandit Ji, it’s hard to say, I don’t know how to start. I… I saw someone, not my husband, and things happened. I feel so bad, I need to fix it.

Pandit: Saw someone? Like the last time? Rekha, do you mean you were with another man again? Tell me clearly, did you have sex with him? God needs the truth.

Mom’s face went red, her eyes wide, her voice shaking as she spoke slowly, her words vague, trying to avoid the shame.

Mom: Yes, Pandit Ji, I did… I had sex with another man, the same man again, not Amit my husband. It was a mistake, I didn’t mean for it to happen. I’m so ashamed, I want God to forgive me.

Pandit’s eyes widened, his mouth dropping, a glint of excitement in his stare, his hands fidgeting, his voice eager as he asked more, his questions turning dirty.

Pandit: Sex with another man, Rekha? That’s a big sin, but I need details to help you. Who was this man you had sex with twice, and how did you meet him? What did he do to you?

Mom: His name is Manoj, Pandit Ji, he’s a friend of a friend. I met him through Shalini, at a party, we talked a few times, and then… things went too far. Things went south. I don’t want to say more, it’s too hard.

Pandit: You must say more, Rekha, God demands the full truth. Did Manoj touch you, maybe your breasts? Did he suck them or kiss your body?

Mom: Pandit Ji, this feels strange, why do you need to know that? Yes, he… he touched my breasts, he kissed them. I’m not comfortable saying this, please, can we just pray?

Pandit: No, Rekha, we need every detail for the ritual to work. Did he touch your ass, feel its shape? Did he put his penis inside you, in your pussy or elsewhere?

Mom’s face burned, her eyes down, her voice low, feeling weird but answering because she respected Pandit, believing his questions were for God.

Mom: Yes, Pandit Ji, he touched my ass, he grabbed it, squeezed it. He… he put his penis in my pussy, and other places too. I’m so embarrassed, please, don’t make me say more.

Pandit: Other places, Rekha? You must be clear, did he put it in your ass? Tell me everything, it’s the only way to cleanse you.

Mom: Pandit Ji, I don’t like these questions, they feel wrong, but I’ll answer so that I get ritualistic proof. I need to stop this sin, please help me.

I sat in the next room, my ear pressed to the wall, wondering why Mom was answering these dirty questions, my heart racing, my face hot. This wasn’t part of any ritual I knew.

Pandit wasn’t chanting or praying, just asking about Mom’s body, her sex with Manoj, like a pervert, not a holy man. I hated how Mom kept talking, her respect for him making her spill everything, her voice shaky but honest, while Pandit’s eyes gleamed with lust.

Mom spoke again, her voice softer, introducing something worse, her hands trembling, her face red with embarrassment.

Mom: Pandit Ji, there’s something even worse I did, it’s so bad, I can’t believe it. I think you already asked but....I don’t know how to say it, it’s too shameful. I need God to forgive me for this.

Pandit: Worse, Rekha? What could be worse than sex with another man? Tell me, what did you do, don’t hold back.

Mom: It’s so hard, Pandit Ji, but… I let Manoj do something very bad to my body. He… he had sex with my ass, not just my pussy. I feel so dirty, I can’t look at myself.

Pandit’s eyes lit up, his mouth twitching, his voice eager, asking more about anal, his questions filthy, his excitement clear.

Pandit: Anal sex, Rekha? That’s a big step, but tell me, how did it feel? Did his penis stretch you? Did you enjoy it at all?

Mom: Pandit Ji, it hurt so much, I didn’t enjoy it, it felt wrong. Manoj’s penis was big, it stretched me, I cried. Why are you asking this, is it part of the prayer?

Pandit: Yes, Rekha, I need to know to help you. Anal is normal, many married women do it, it’s not a bad sin. Did anything else happen, like mess?

Mom’s face was shocked, her eyes wide, her voice shaky, not believing Pandit called anal normal, her hands clutching the saree.

Mom: Normal? Pandit Ji, how can that be normal, it’s not natural, it’s sinful. Manoj forced me, I didn’t want it, I never want to do it again. It felt so wrong, I’m not that kind of woman.

Pandit: Rekha, calm down, it’s just a body thing, God doesn’t judge it harshly. Women do anal sex all the time, it’s part of love. Did you… make a mess, like shitting or releasing anything after during anal?

Mom: Release? Pandit Ji, what do you mean by that? I don’t understand, please, I don’t want to talk about this part. It’s too much, I’m ashamed.

I knew Mom was pretending not to understand, her face red, avoiding the word “shitted,” remembering how she pushed Manoj’s cum out on Dad’s face. Pandit leaned closer, his voice low, explaining in a filthy way, his eyes gleaming.

Pandit: Rekha, I mean did you shit, did anything come out of your ass after Manoj's dick was inside? It’s normal, it happens, tell me, did you make a mess?

Mom: Pandit Ji, please, I can’t talk about that, it’s too dirty, I don’t want to say. Something happened, but I’m not saying it, it’s private. Why do you keep asking these things?

Pandit: Because I need to know, Rekha, to cleanse you properly. If you released something, it’s part of the sin, tell me. 

Mom: I… I can’t, Pandit Ji, but yes, something came out, and it got on Amit’s face. My husband was on the room but was passed out. He didn't know I was with Manoj. I’m so ashamed, I didn’t mean it, it was an accident. Please, stop asking, I’m begging you.

Pandit: An accident, Rekha, that’s understandable, don’t worry. Why are you so shy? It’s just the body, God sees it all, tell me more.

Mom: No, Pandit Ji, I can’t say more, it’s too much, I feel sick talking about it. I just want to pray, to be clean again. Can we move on, please?

Pandit leaned back, his smile wide, his dhoti tented, his dick hard, pushing against the fabric, a clear bulge Mom didn’t notice, her eyes down, her face flushed. He spoke again, his voice soft, condoning her adultery, his words shocking, encouraging her sin.

Pandit: Rekha, sleeping with another man isn’t a bad sin, like I told you before. It’s a small thing, easy to wash away with prayers. You don’t need to feel so guilty, God forgives this quickly.

Mom: Not bad? Pandit Ji, how can you say that, it’s cheating on my husband. I thought it was a big sin, that’s why I’m here. Are you sure it’s small?

Pandit: Yes, Rekha, it’s small, many women do it, they come to me all the time. They cheat, they enjoy, then they pray, and their sins are gone. You can do it again, come back, and I’ll cleanse you.

Mom: Many women? Pandit Ji, do they come often, cheating and praying like it’s normal? I can’t believe that, I don’t want to be like them.

Pandit: Oh, Rekha, they come every week, sometimes more, cheating with lovers, then washing it away. It’s easy, you can keep seeing Manoj, enjoy his body, and I’ll pray for you. It’s a simple fix, no harm.

Mom: No, Pandit Ji, I don’t want to keep sinning, I want to be religious, a good wife to Amit, a good mom to Sanjay. I came to stop this, not to do it more. I can’t live like those women, I won’t.

Mom’s face lit up, happy Pandit said her sin was small, her eyes softer, her shoulders relaxing, but her voice firm, refusing to keep cheating. Pandit’s dick stayed hard, the bulge bigger, his eyes on her massive, round breasts, his hands twitching, eager for more.

Pandit: Rekha, you’re holding back, I know there’s more to tell. Share everything, it’s the only way to be fully clean. What else did you do with Manoj?

Mom: Pandit Ji, I can’t, I’ve said too much, it’s all so shameful. There’s nothing else, I just want to pray now. Please, let’s do the ritual, I’m tired.

Pandit: No, Rekha, we need a special ritual for a sin like yours. Remove your blouse, stay in your bra, it’s part of the prayer. It’ll help God see your heart clearly.

Mom: Remove my blouse? Pandit Ji, is that really necessary? I’m not sure, it feels strange. Will it truly take my sins away?

Pandit: Yes, Rekha, it’s a sacred step, it shows your openness to God. Just your bra, it’s fine, I’ve done this with many women. Trust me, it’ll cleanse you.

Mom: Okay, Pandit Ji, if it’s for my sins, I’ll do it, but I’m nervous. This will make me clean, right? I want to be good again, for my family.

Mom stood, her fingers shaky, unbuttoning her blouse, the orange fabric falling to the floor, her bra tight, barely holding her massive, full breasts, the cups digging into her soft flesh, her cleavage deep, her nipples faintly visible through the thin material. 









She didn’t care much, her mind focused on cleansing her sins, her face calm but unsure, trusting Pandit’s lies. I couldn’t believe Mom was falling into this trap, my heart sinking, my eyes wide, knowing Pandit was a pervert, using fake rituals to touch her, his lust a disgusting trick.

Pandit spoke, his voice low, his eyes glued to her breasts, his dick hard, his hands trembling with excitement.

Pandit: Rekha, close your eyes and don’t open them, it’s part of the ritual. Lie on the bed, relax, let God work through me. I need to hold your breasts to pray, it’s sacred.

Mom: Hold my breasts, Pandit Ji? Is that okay, it feels so strange. If it’s for God, I’ll do it, I want my sins gone.

Pandit: Yes, Rekha, it’s necessary, trust me, it’s how we pray for big sins. Lie down, keep your eyes closed, I’ll chant and touch you. It’ll be over soon.

Mom lay on the bed, her bra tight, her massive breasts spilling out, her thick, round ass pressing into the mattress, her eyes closed, her face trusting but nervous. 

Pandit knelt beside her, his hands reaching for her breasts, massaging them through the bra, his fingers squeezing, rubbing her nipples, his voice chanting fake prayers, his dick bulging, his face red with lust. 





Mom’s face showed pleasure, her lips parting, her cheeks flushed, a soft moan escaping, her body relaxing under his touch.

I watched through a crack in the wall, my dick getting hard, hating myself, cursing my body for reacting, my mind screaming at Mom’s fall, Pandit’s hands defiling her breasts. 

His fingers pressed harder, circling her nipples, squeezing her full, heavy breasts, the bra stretching, his chants loud, covering his lust, his eyes wild, saliva at his mouth’s corner.

Mom spoke, her eyes still closed, her voice soft, asking about her sins, her face glowing with a mix of shame and pleasure.

Mom: Pandit Ji, are my sins going away? I feel something, is this working? Please, tell me God is forgiving me.

Pandit: Yes, Rekha, your sins are leaving, keep your eyes closed, don't open them. God sees your openness. Keep your eyes closed, let me pray harder, it’s working. You’re almost clean, just stay still.

Mom: Okay, Pandit Ji, I trust you, I want to be pure again. Is this really taking away what I did with Manoj? I need to be good for Amit and Sanjay.

Pandit: It’s working, Rekha, every touch pulls the sin out, God’s happy. Your body’s helping, your breasts are sacred now. Stay calm, we’re almost done

[Chandan]

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[Rajeev Gupta]

Mom’s face showed pleasure, her lips parted, her cheeks flushed, a soft moan escaping, unaware of his perversion. I watched through a crack in the wall, my heart pounding, my dick hard, cursing myself for getting aroused, angry at Pandit’s filthy hands defiling Mom, a supposed holy man acting like a pervert.

Pandit stopped massaging, his voice low, his eyes gleaming, telling Mom to turn over and bend, his hands hovering over her body, eager for more.

Pandit: Rekha, turn over and bend on the bed, on your knees. It’s part of the ritual to cleanse your sins fully. Do it now, God is watching.

Mom: Pandit Ji, why do I need to bend over? What does this have to do with praying? I’m not sure about this, it feels strange.

Pandit: Rekha, don’t ask questions, you must trust God’s way. This is sacred, it pulls the sin from your body. Turn over, bend, and keep your eyes closed.

Mom hesitated, her face uneasy, her lips tight, but she obeyed, rolling onto her stomach, then lifting herself onto her knees, her massive breasts hanging in the bra, her huge, plump ass raised high, the orange saree stretched tight over its round cheeks, the crack faintly visible. 

She bent forward, her thick thighs spread, her head resting on her arms, her body trembling, clearly uncomfortable, asking herself why this was happening, her thoughts loud in her mind.

Why is this happening to me,? This feels so weird, bending like this for a ritual. It’s not right, it’s not like any prayer I know. I came to be clean, but this makes me feel dirty, like I’m doing something bad again. Pandit Ji is holy, but why does this feel wrong? I want to stop, but I need my sins gone, for Amit, for Sanjay. Oh God, what’s going on?


I was angrier than ever, my fists clenched, my face hot, hating Pandit for making Mom bend like a whore, his eyes locked on her huge, round ass, his fake prayers a lie to touch her. 

I sensed Mom wasn’t comfortable, her trembling body, her tight face, her shaky breaths showing she didn’t want this, but she trusted Pandit, falling into his trap. I wanted to scream, to pull her out, but I stayed frozen, my dick throbbing, my mind a mess of rage and lust.

Pandit spoke, his voice oily, praising Mom, his eyes never leaving her plump ass, explaining why men were drawn to her, his words dripping with lust.

Pandit: Rekha, you did good, bending so well. Men are attracted to you because your body is a gift, your curves, your breasts, your buttocks, they’re divine, they pull men like moths to a flame.

Mom: Pandit Ji, I don’t want men to look at me like that, to bother me like Manoj did. I just want to live quietly with Amit and Sanjay. Can’t I stop them from staring?

Pandit: It’s impossible, Rekha, your beauty is too strong, your body calls to men, it’s God’s design. Men like Manoj will always want you, you can’t hide it, it’s who you are.

Mom: But Pandit Ji, I don’t want to be that woman, I want to be good, not someone men chase. Isn’t there a way to make them leave me alone?

Pandit: No, Rekha, it’s your power, accept it. Now turn your face away, don’t look back, keep your eyes closed, we’re going deeper into the ritual.

Mom turned her head, her eyes shut tight, her body still bent, her huge, plump ass high, the saree clinging to its thick, round shape. Pandit stared, his mouth open, saliva dripping down his chin, his eyes wild, his hands twitching, lust consuming him as he gazed at her ass, a ripe, sinful prize, its curves shaking slightly with her nervous breaths. 

I hated him more, my chest tight, his drooling face a disgrace, a holy man turned animal, worse than Manoj.

Pandit spoke again, his voice low, telling Mom he’d spank her buttocks, his hands already reaching, his dick bulging harder in his dhoti.

Pandit: Rekha, I must spank your buttocks now, it’s to drive the sins out of your body. It’s a sacred act, don’t be afraid, it’ll make you clean.

Mom: Spank my buttocks, Pandit Ji? Why is that needed? It sounds wrong, I’m not sure, will it really take my sins away?

Pandit: Yes, Rekha, it’s how we punish the flesh to free the soul. Accept it, it’s God’s will, it’ll remove what you did with Manoj. Stay bent, don’t move.

Mom: Okay, Pandit Ji, if it’s for my sins, I’ll do it, but it feels so strange. Please, make it quick, I want to be clean for my family.

Pandit raised his hand, his palm crashing onto Mom’s huge, round ass, the saree stretching, the thick cheeks jiggling like jelly under the blow, a loud slap echoing. 

Mom gasped, her face twisting in pain, her lips trembling, her eyes still closed, her voice a mix of shock and hurt.

Mom: Oh, Pandit Ji, that hurts, please, is it working? It feels so bad, I don’t like this, but I’ll do it for God.

Pandit slapped again, harder, her plump ass quivering, the saree outlining its massive shape, Mom whimpering, her face red, her mouth open, pain and shame mixing with a hint of something else, her body tensing. 

With one hand, Pandit squeezed her thick, round ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, kneading it, while his other hand pulled out his dick, big and veiny, the head swollen, precum dripping, and started masturbating, his strokes fast, his breaths heavy, his eyes fixed on her ass.

I couldn’t stop myself, my anger boiling, but my dick was hard, throbbing, and I pulled it out, stroking it, hating myself, my hand moving despite my rage, Mom’s bent body, her jiggling ass, Pandit’s filthy hands driving me crazy. 

I was angry at myself, cursing my body, my mind screaming I shouldn’t do this, but I couldn’t stop, my strokes matching Pandit’s, my heart torn between lust and hate.

Mom spoke, her eyes still closed, her voice nervous, sensing something wrong, asking what Pandit was doing, her face uneasy.

Mom: Pandit Ji, what are you doing? I hear strange sounds, is this still the ritual? Please, tell me what’s happening, I’m scared.

Pandit: Rekha, it’s just the prayer, I’m chanting, moving my hands, it’s all sacred. Keep your eyes closed, don’t worry, it’s working, your sins are leaving.

Pandit’s dick was huge, thick, and long, the veins bulging, the head purple, slick with precum, his hand rubbing fast, up and down, his fingers tight, his wrist twisting, his strokes rough, his breaths ragged, his eyes glued to Mom’s plump, round ass, the saree tight, her cheeks shaking from his spanks. 

He rubbed harder, his hand a blur, his dick pulsing, his other hand squeezing her ass, pulling the cheeks apart, the saree stretching, his lust a disgusting show, his chants fake, his voice hoarse.

I was angry at Mom now, my strokes slowing, hating her for not noticing, for keeping her eyes closed, letting Pandit touch her, his big dick out, his hands on her ass, her trust making her blind. 

She was falling deeper, a slut not just for Manoj but for this pervert, her holy heart gone, her body a toy for men, and I hated her for it, even as I jerked off, my dick betraying me.

Pandit’s rubbing got faster, his hand a frenzy, his dick swelling, his breaths short, his eyes wild, his mouth drooling, his chants louder to cover his grunts. 

His body shook, his dick spurting cum, thick white ropes shooting out, some landing on Mom’s saree-covered ass, splattering the orange fabric, dripping down her thick, round cheeks, the rest falling on the bed, a sticky mess. I also cummed because I was masturbating watching this happening.

He kept stroking, milking every drop, his hand slick, his dick pulsing, his face red, his lust spent but still hungry.


Pandit shouted Mom’s name, his voice loud, echoing, his cum still dripping, Mom’s face confused, her eyes closed, her voice shaky.

Pandit: Rekha, oh Rekha, yes, your sins are gone!

Mom: Pandit Ji, why are you shouting my name? Is something wrong? Did I do the ritual right?

Pandit: No, Rekha, it’s good, I shouted because God spoke your name, it means your sins are leaving. Stay still, don’t turn, I need to finish the prayer.

Mom: Okay, Pandit Ji, I trust you, but it feels so strange. Is it really working? I want to be clean, please tell me God heard me.

Pandit grabbed a cloth, his hands shaky, wiping his cum from Mom’s saree-covered ass, the fabric stained, his fingers brushing her thick cheeks, his face flushed, trying to hide his sin. 

Mom spoke, her voice nervous, asking what he was wiping, still not turning.

Mom: Pandit Ji, what are you wiping? I feel something on my saree, what is it? Is it part of the ritual?

Pandit: Rekha, it’s just holy water, I spilled some during the prayer. I’m cleaning it, don’t worry, it’s normal, keep your eyes closed.

Mom: Holy water? Okay, Pandit Ji, if you say so, but it feels odd. Are we almost done, I want to finish and go home.

Pandit: Yes, Rekha, we’re almost done, you did well, God is happy. Sit up now, put your blouse back on, cover yourself, the ritual is complete.

Mom sat up, her bra still tight, her massive, full breasts spilling out, her face relieved but uneasy, her hands grabbing her blouse, pulling it on, buttoning it fast, hiding her breasts, the fabric stretching over their round shape. 

Her saree was wrinkled, the cum stains faint, her thick thighs shifting, her huge, plump ass settling on the bed, her eyes opening, looking at Pandit, trusting but unsure.

Mom spoke, asking questions, her voice soft, wanting to know about her sins, Pandit’s answers oily, condoning her adultery, urging her to return.

Mom: Pandit Ji, are all my sins really gone now? What I did with Manoj, the sex, the… other things, is it washed away? I need to know I’m clean.

Pandit: Yes, Rekha, every sin is gone, God forgave you, you’re pure again. Sex with another man is normal, not a big sin, it’s easy to wash away, like I said.

Mom: Normal? Pandit Ji, I can’t keep doing that, it’s wrong, I want to be a good wife to Amit, a good mom to Sanjay. I can’t sin again, I won’t.

Pandit: Rekha, you’re a woman, it’s natural, many women do it and come to me. I want to see you every time, to pray with you, keep you clean. You’ll need it, your beauty draws sin.

Mom: Every time? Pandit Ji, why do you want me to keep coming? Is it just for prayers, or something else? I don’t understand.
Pandit: Just for prayers, Rekha, to keep your soul pure, your body tempts men, so you’ll need my help often. Come back, I’ll always pray for you, you’re special.

Mom: Okay, Pandit Ji, I’ll come for prayers, but only to stay good, not to sin more. I want to live right, for my family. Can I trust you to help me?

Pandit: Of course, Rekha, trust me, I’m your guide, God works through me. You’re clean now, but come back soon, we’ll pray again, keep you safe.

Mom: Thank you, Pandit Ji, I feel lighter, but I’m still scared. I’ll try to be good, not like those other women. Can I call Sanjay now, are we done?

Pandit: Yes, Rekha, call your son, you’re free to go. You did well, God’s proud. Come back whenever you need, my door’s open for you.
Mom: Sanjay, come here, we’re done, let’s go home. Thank you, Pandit Ji, for helping me, I hope I’m clean now. Goodbye, we’ll see you again.

Me: Okay, Mom, I’m coming, let’s get out of here. Goodbye, Pandit Ji, thanks for the prayers, I guess.
Pandit: Goodbye, Sanjay, take care of your mother, she’s blessed. Rekha, return soon, God’s waiting for you, I’ll pray harder next time.

Mom and I walked out, the wooden door creaking, the incense smell fading, my heart still burning, angry at Pandit’s perversion, his cum on Mom’s ass, his fake prayers, his big dick ruining her purity. 

I was angry at Mom for falling, for not seeing his lust, for letting him touch her, but my dick was still hard, my hand sticky, hating myself for jerking off, cheering Mom’s slutty fall while cursing her for it. 

Mom’s saree swayed, her huge, plump ass shaking, her massive breasts bouncing, her face calm, believing she was clean, unaware of the cum stains, her holy heart clinging to lies, her body a whore’s, owned by Pandit’s hands, Manoj’s cock, and every man’s stare.





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