Fantasy Devika, a rich high class housewife, with angel heart

[prady12191]

Evening shadows stretched across the small apartment complex as Devika finally reached Dattu's door. The journey had taken longer than expected, the auto-rickshaw crawling through Pune's congested Sunday traffic. She smoothed her saree, adjusted her blouse, and knocked softly.

The door swung open almost immediately. Dattu stood there, his weathered face lighting up at the sight of her. His eyes, dark and intent, traveled the length of her body before settling on her face.

"You came," he said, surprise evident in his gravelly voice. "I thought you'd forgotten."

"I'm so sorry for being late," Devika replied, stepping inside as he moved back. "There was an emergency at college that I couldn't avoid."

The apartment was small but surprisingly clean. A single bulb cast yellow light over sparse furniture—a threadbare sofa, a wooden table with mismatched chairs, and a small television perched on a rickety stand. Photos of Vishnu at various ages lined one wall, alongside a faded wedding portrait.

Dattu waved away her apology. "No need for sorry, madam. You are an angel to give company to a low-class old man like me." His voice softened. "Most people in your position wouldn't bother."

Devika smiled, touched by his gratitude despite knowing she had lied about her delay. "Shall we start our evening? I promised to visit if you stayed away from alcohol during the week."

Dattu gestured toward the kitchen. "I kept my promise. Not a drop since you left."

Devika moved toward the small kitchen area where she spotted a familiar bottle on the counter. She reached for it, aware of Dattu's gaze following her movements. With practiced motions, she unscrewed the cap and poured a generous measure into a glass.

"Here," she said, offering it to him. "You've earned this."

Dattu accepted the glass, his rough fingers brushing against hers. "Won't you join me?" he asked, raising the glass to his lips. "Drinking alone is no fun."

"I've never had alcohol before," Devika admitted, setting the bottle down. "It's not something women from my background typically do."

Dattu took a long sip, eyes never leaving hers over the rim of his glass. "You're in Pune now, not Kerala. Different rules here."

Devika shook her head. "I don't think I'd like the taste anyway."

Settling onto the sofa, Dattu patted the spot beside him. "Come, sit. Let me tell you about my wife—Vishnu's mother."

Devika sat carefully at the opposite end, maintaining a respectful distance. For nearly an hour, Dattu spoke of his late wife—her kindness, her beauty, her struggles with his drinking and temper. He shared stories of Vishnu's childhood, of financial hardships, of dreams deferred.

As he talked, Devika listened, nodding at appropriate moments. She thought of sharing her own marital troubles—the fresh wound of Rajeevan's betrayal still stinging—but hesitated. This arrangement was about helping Vishnu, not burdening his father with her problems.

Yet as Dattu's stories grew more personal, something inside Devika loosened. Perhaps it was his vulnerability, or perhaps the emotional toll of the day, but suddenly she couldn't hold back.

"My husband asked me for twenty-five lakhs today," she blurted out, interrupting Dattu's reminiscence about Vishnu's first day of college. "Then he showed me the woman he's sleeping with in Dubai. Made me watch as he kissed her."

Dattu's expression darkened. "What kind of man does that to his wife?"

"A man who never truly loved me," Devika replied, her voice cracking. "I've been fooling myself for years."

Dattu slammed his empty glass down on the table. "Bastard!" he spat. "No man with eyes in his head would betray a woman like you."

He reached for the bottle, refilling his glass before pouring a second. "You need this," he said firmly, offering it to her. "It helps. Believe me."

Devika stared at the amber liquid. "Does it really take away the pain?"

"It doesn't take it away," Dattu admitted. "But it makes it... different. Softer around the edges."

Hesitantly, Devika accepted the glass. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she whispered, more to herself than to him.

"First sip is the hardest," Dattu encouraged. "After that, it gets easier."

Devika brought the glass to her lips and took a tentative sip. The liquid burned down her throat, making her cough and grimace.

"Terrible, isn't it?" Dattu chuckled. "But give it time. First it tastes bad, then you start to need it."

Devika stared at the glass, then closed her eyes and tipped her head back, swallowing the entire contents in one desperate gulp. The alcohol blazed a fiery trail to her stomach.

Dattu watched her with widening eyes, his heart racing at the sight of this elegant Kerala beauty drinking so boldly in his humble home. Her lips, wet from the liquor, parted as she gasped for breath.

"Another?" he asked, already reaching for the bottle.

"No," Devika protested weakly. "That's enough."

"To forget a man like your husband," Dattu insisted, refilling her glass, "you need more than one drink."

The second glass appeared in her hand, and despite her better judgment, Devika drank it, this time more slowly. The burning sensation had already begun to transform into a pleasant warmth spreading through her limbs.

"He never appreciated me," she said, her tongue loosening as the alcohol took effect. "Ten years I gave him, and he treats me like I'm nothing."

"Tell me," Dattu encouraged, moving closer on the sofa.

Words poured from Devika now, unfiltered and raw. Her husband's neglect, his emotional distance, his incompetence in the bedroom—intimate details she would never normally share spilled freely from her lips. She used words she'd never spoken aloud, cursing Rajeevan with a vehemence that surprised even herself.

"He couldn't satisfy a woman if his life depended on it," she declared, her head spinning slightly. "Always too quick, never caring if I enjoyed it."

Dattu slid closer, his thigh now pressed against hers. "A crime," he murmured, his voice husky. "To have such a beautiful wife and not worship her properly."

His work-roughened hand came to rest on the sofa beside her, not quite touching her but close enough that she could feel its heat through her saree.

Dattu refilled his glass and took another long swallow, his weathered face relaxing as the alcohol coursed through him. The evening shadows stretched across the small apartment, casting the photos of Vishnu and his late wife in a golden glow. Dattu's eyes settled on Devika, his gaze lingering on the exposed skin of her arms, the delicate curve where her neck met her shoulder.

"Tell me about my son," he said suddenly. "How is Vishnu doing in college? Is he studying well?"

Devika nodded, relieved by the shift to safer conversation. "He's doing much better recently. His grades have improved significantly."

"Good, good." Dattu poured another measure of amber liquid into her empty glass. "Here, have one more. You've had a difficult day."

Devika hesitated, then accepted the glass. The first two drinks had already loosened something inside her—walls she'd carefully constructed were developing cracks. The alcohol burned less this time as it slid down her throat, warming her from within.

"I'm glad to hear my boy is studying," Dattu continued, his voice roughening. "He's always been smart, just needed the right... motivation."

Something in his tone made Devika look up sharply. The word 'motivation' hung between them, loaded with unspoken meaning. The third drink was already working its magic, dissolving her inhibitions and loosening her tongue.

"Your son..." she began, then stopped herself.

"What about him?" Dattu leaned forward, suddenly alert.

Devika took another sip, larger this time. "Your son watches me in class. The way he looks at me is... inappropriate."

Dattu's expression remained neutral, but his eyes darkened with interest. "What do you mean, inappropriate?"

"The way he stares at my body. He and his friend Pathan..." The words tumbled out now, unstoppable. "They arranged a special practical class with just the three of us. They trapped me there."

"Trapped you?" Dattu's voice dropped lower, his body tensing. "What did they do?"

Devika shook her head, pressing her palm against her forehead. "I shouldn't be telling you this. I don't know why I'm saying these things."

Dattu moved closer on the sofa, his arm sliding around her shoulders. "It's alright. You can tell me. I should know what my son is doing."

The unexpected contact made Devika stiffen, but she didn't pull away. There was something comforting about his presence, something solid and reassuring despite the inappropriate nature of his touch.

"They touch me," she whispered, the alcohol demolishing her final defenses. "During the practical class. Their hands, always finding reasons to brush against me."

Dattu's arm tightened around her, drawing her slightly closer. "That's terrible," he said, though his tone suggested something different entirely. "Men can be such animals."

"All men are the same," Devika said bitterly, thinking of Rajeevan's betrayal, of Seenu's wandering hands, of Laxman's hungry eyes. "Your son is no different."

She looked up, meeting Dattu's gaze. The intensity there should have frightened her, but in her alcohol-induced haze, it only made her want to provoke him further, to test the boundaries of his reaction.

"Vishnu asked me for a favor," she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. "He said he would study harder if I did something for him."

Dattu's breathing had grown heavier, his hand now resting on her upper arm, fingers pressing into her flesh. "What kind of favor?"

"He took me to the boys' toilet at college," Devika said, the words spilling out before she could censor them. "He made me show him my figure. Without my pallu."

"What?" Dattu's exclamation was part shock, part something darker. His eyes widened as he stared at her. "My son took you to the boys' toilet? And you went?"

Devika nodded, suddenly realizing what she had revealed. "I... I don't know why I'm telling you this. The alcohol—"

"No, no," Dattu interrupted, shifting closer until his thigh pressed firmly against hers. "You started now. Tell me everything. What happened in that toilet with my son?"

Devika tried to pull away, but his arm held her firmly. "Nothing. I shouldn't have mentioned it."

"You showed him your body?" Dattu pressed, his voice rough with excitement. "In the toilet? My son saw you without your saree pallu?"

"Yes," Devika admitted, closing her eyes as shame and a strange excitement warred within her. "But it wasn't just that. He... he didn't just look."

Dattu's grip tightened. "What else happened? Did he touch you?"

The directness of his question made Devika's eyes snap open. She found herself nodding before she could stop herself. "Yes. He touched me. He felt my waist, my hips."

"My son touched your waist?" Dattu confirmed, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. "Where else?"

Devika's face burned with embarrassment, but something compelled her to continue. "He kissed my navel. And... sucked it."

"Sucked your navel?" Dattu repeated, his breath catching. "In the college toilet?"

Devika nodded, unable to meet his gaze. "Yes."

Dattu released his grip on her arm, leaning back slightly. His expression was a mixture of shock and arousal that made Devika deeply uncomfortable. "I can't believe what my son did with you in that toilet," he said finally. "That lucky bastard got to taste his Kerala teacher's navel."

His crude assessment shook Devika from her confession. She straightened, trying to create distance between them. "I shouldn't have told you this. It was inappropriate of me."

"What else happened?" Dattu asked, ignoring her attempt at retreat. "There's more, isn't there?"

"No, nothing else," Devika lied, suddenly aware of how much she had already revealed.

Dattu studied her face, clearly not believing her. "You said he studied well afterward, yes? Did he call you to the toilet again?"

Devika bit her lip, wishing desperately that she could take back everything she'd said. But the alcohol had lowered her defenses too far, and the truth spilled out. "Yes. After he improved his grades, he called me back."

Dattu leaned forward, excitement evident in every line of his body. "And what happened the second time?"

Devika took a deep breath. "I promised him... if he scored well on his exam, I would remove my saree completely. And I did. I let him hug me without my saree."

"Just a hug?" Dattu's voice was skeptical, tinged with disappointment.

Devika's mind raced, trying to find a way to end this conversation, to escape the trap she'd laid for herself. But the alcohol had removed her filter, and the words continued to flow. "No, not just a hug. I couldn't control myself. I took his... his..."

She faltered, unable to say the word.

"His what?" Dattu pressed, leaning so close now that she could smell the paan and alcohol on his breath.

"I took his... penis," Devika whispered, the clinical term sounding absurd in this context. "I jerked it, and then I... I put it in my mouth." She closed her eyes, unable to bear witnessing Dattu's reaction to this final confession. "It was my first time doing that."

The silence that followed was deafening. When Devika finally opened her eyes, she found Dattu staring at her, his breathing shallow, a visible dampness forming at the front of his lungi. The realization that he was aroused by her confession made her stomach twist with shame and something else—a dark, forbidden thrill.

"You sucked my son's dick?" Dattu's blunt question hung in the air between them. "With these lips?" He reached out, his weathered finger tracing the outline of her mouth.

The touch snapped Devika back to reality. The alcohol's haze began to clear, leaving horror in its wake. "I shouldn't have told you any of this. I got carried away and said too much."

Dattu didn't remove his finger, instead pressing it more firmly against her lower lip. "My son kissed these sexy lips?"

"Yes," Devika admitted, trying to pull away.

"Will you allow this old man to kiss those same lips?" Dattu asked, his voice thick with desire. "The lips that pleasured my son?"

Shock coursed through Devika's body. She stood abruptly, nearly knocking over her empty glass. "I need to leave," she said, her voice shaking. "This has gone too far."

She moved quickly to the small bathroom, splashing cold water on her face in a desperate attempt to clear her mind. What had she done? How could she have revealed such intimate details to Vishnu's father? The water dripped down her cheeks as she stared at her reflection, barely recognizing the woman who looked back.

When she emerged, Dattu was waiting by the door, watching her with undisguised hunger.

"I'm sorry," she said, adjusting her saree and smoothing her hair. "That was incredibly inappropriate of me. Please forget everything I said."

"How can I forget?" Dattu asked, moving slightly to block her path. "You told me my son had his teacher's mouth on his manhood. Those are not words a father forgets."

Devika tried to step around him. "I need to go. It's late, and I've said far too much."

"You never answered my question," Dattu persisted. "Will you allow me what you gave my son?"

"No," Devika said firmly, finding her resolve. "I'm sorry, but no. That was a mistake, all of it. I should never have allowed any of it to happen."

Dattu's face fell, disappointment evident in the slump of his shoulders. He stepped aside, allowing her to pass.

Devika quickly gathered her belongings, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the apartment. It was only when she reached the street that she realized she'd left her purse inside. She stood frozen on the sidewalk, weighing whether she could simply leave it behind.

No, her keys and college ID were inside. She had to go back.

With leaden steps, Devika returned to Dattu's door and knocked softly. The door swung open immediately, as if he'd been waiting for her.

"I forgot my purse," she explained, avoiding his gaze.

"Of course," Dattu said, stepping back to let her in. "It's on the side table."

Devika spotted her purse and moved quickly to retrieve it. As she turned to leave, passing Dattu, something inexplicable stirred within her—a reckless, self-destructive impulse born of alcohol, confusion, and the day's accumulated stress.

Without thinking, she stepped toward him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Before he could react, she pressed her lips against his, locking them in a fierce, desperate kiss. Her tongue pushed into his mouth, tasting the bitter tang of paan and liquor. Dattu stood frozen in shock for a moment before responding, his arms encircling her waist, his hands sliding down to grasp her buttocks through the silk of her saree.

The kiss deepened, their breaths mingling as Devika pressed her body against his. She could feel his hardness through the thin fabric of his lungi, insistent against her stomach. His rough hands squeezed her soft flesh, drawing a moan from her that vibrated between their joined lips.

"Thank you," Dattu gasped against her mouth, his voice thick with desire. "Thank you."

The words broke the spell. Devika pulled away abruptly, horror dawning on her face. "I kissed you," she whispered, raising trembling fingers to her swollen lips. "I kissed the father with the same lips I kissed the son."

Without another word, she turned and fled, clutching her purse to her chest as she raced down the stairs. The cool evening air hit her face, but it did nothing to clear the confusion swirling in her mind or ease the burning shame that followed her all the way home.

[tamannanav]

Too many characters affecting flow of story
Every update has one new character she was made a complete slut
now anyone can touch her enjoy her.

[White Walker]

Update soon please

[prady12191]

Dattu paced the small apartment, pausing occasionally to glance at the faded clock on the wall. Three days had passed since Devika's unexpected visit—three days since her lips had pressed against his, igniting desires he'd thought long dormant. The memory of her taste lingered, sweeter than the finest whiskey, more intoxicating than any bottle he'd emptied over lonely nights.

"She'll come tomorrow," he muttered, rubbing his stubbled jaw. "She promised."

The apartment felt smaller somehow, the walls closing in with each passing hour. He'd cleaned meticulously that morning—swept the floors, washed the dishes, even changed the threadbare sheets on his bed. Preparations for a visitor he couldn't be certain would return.

The door opened, and Vishnu entered, dropping his backpack on the floor with a heavy thud.

"Any word from your teacher?" Dattu asked, trying to sound casual.

Vishnu slumped onto the sofa, exhaustion evident in the dark circles beneath his eyes. "Nothing today. She avoided eye contact in class."

Dattu's face darkened. "She's still coming Saturday?"

"I think so." Vishnu stretched his legs out, studying his father's anxious movements. "Why are you so worked up about her? You've never cared about my teachers before."

Dattu's weathered hands gripped the back of a chair, knuckles whitening. "This one's different."

"Because she reminds you of mother?" Vishnu's tone was skeptical.

A low chuckle escaped Dattu's lips. "Not just that." He moved to the kitchen, extracting a half-empty bottle from a cabinet. Though he'd promised Devika to limit his drinking, tonight's restlessness demanded relief. "She drank with me, you know."

Vishnu sat up straighter. "Devika Madam? Drinking?" Disbelief colored his words. "You're making it up."

"Three glasses," Dattu confirmed, pouring himself a measure. "Right here on this sofa." He gestured with the glass before taking a long swallow. "Kerala women aren't supposed to drink, she told me. But she did."

Vishnu shook his head, unable to reconcile this information with the composed professor who taught his biology class. "She wouldn't."

"Oh, but she did." Dattu's eyes gleamed with remembered triumph. "And that's not all she did."

The apartment fell silent as father and son regarded each other—Dattu smug with his secret knowledge, Vishnu torn between curiosity and jealousy.

"What else happened?" Vishnu finally asked, his voice tight.

Dattu savored the moment, swirling the amber liquid in his glass before answering. "She told me everything, boy. Everything about you two."

Blood drained from Vishnu's face. "What are you talking about?"

"The college toilet. Her saree coming off." Dattu's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Her mouth on your parts."

"She told you that?" Vishnu's shock was genuine, his body rigid with embarrassment and rage.

"Every detail." Dattu nodded, enjoying his son's discomfort. "The alcohol loosened her tongue. She talked about her husband too—how he betrays her in Dubai, shows off his mistress on video calls."

Vishnu stared at his father, processing this unexpected revelation. "She wouldn't have told you that. She's too proper."

"Proper?" Dattu snorted. "A proper woman doesn't suck her student in a toilet."

The crude words hung between them, charged with unspoken competition. Father and son, suddenly rivals for the same woman's attention.

"And before she left," Dattu continued, draining his glass, "she kissed me. Not a little peck—a real kiss, with her tongue in my mouth and her body pressed against mine."

Vishnu stood abruptly. "You're lying!"

"Jealous, boy?" Dattu's smile didn't reach his eyes. "She moaned when I squeezed her. The same sounds she probably made for you."

Vishnu paced the small room, hands clenched into fists at his sides. "If what you're saying is true—"

"It is." Dattu poured himself another drink.

"Then she's more... available than I thought." Vishnu's expression shifted, calculation replacing anger. "This could work in our favor."

Dattu raised an eyebrow. "Our favor?"

"You want her. I want her." Vishnu spoke slowly, as if working through a complex equation. "Her husband's betraying her. She's vulnerable, confused."

"What are you suggesting?" Dattu leaned forward, interest piqued.

Vishnu sat back down, closer to his father this time. "Next weekend is your birthday."

"My birthday was three months ago," Dattu objected.

"She doesn't know that." Vishnu waved dismissively. "I'll tell her we're celebrating late because of financial issues. I'll say you've been asking for her, that seeing her was the best gift you could receive."

Understanding dawned on Dattu's face. "You think she'll come?"

"After what you told me? I know she will." Vishnu's voice hardened. "She feels guilty about her behavior with me. She'll want to make amends, prove she's still a good person."

Dattu nodded slowly, seeing the logic. "And when she's here?"

"You play the lonely widower—how seeing her brings you comfort, reminds you of happier times." Vishnu's eyes gleamed with calculated intensity. "Make her feel needed. Special."

"And you?"

"I'll create the right... situation." Vishnu's smile was cold. "Once she's emotional and vulnerable with you, I'll join. Between us, she won't have anywhere to turn."

Dattu considered this plan, rolling his empty glass between his palms. "No alcohol this time," he decided. "I want her fully aware when it happens."

"Why?" Vishnu asked.

"Because I want her to remember every moment." Dattu's voice dropped to a growl. "I want her to choose it, not blame it on the drink afterward."

Vishnu nodded slowly. "She's already falling. The husband's betrayal, the lonely nights, the excitement of forbidden pleasures—it's breaking down her resistance."

"And once we have her?" Dattu's question hung in the air.

"Then we both get what we want." Vishnu's expression grew distant, contemplative. "Though I'm still not sure I like the idea of sharing."

Dattu laughed, a harsh sound in the quiet apartment. "Get used to it, boy. Some women are too fine to keep to yourself."

The two men fell silent, each lost in private fantasies of the Kerala beauty who'd upended their lives. Outside, night fell over Pune, shadows deepening as street lamps flickered to life. In her apartment across town, Devika prepared for bed, unaware of the trap being laid—a trap baited with her own loneliness and need for connection.

Dattu finished his drink and set the glass down with a decisive thump. "It'll work," he declared, newfound energy in his movements. "Next Saturday, we'll have her right where we want her."

Vishnu nodded, excitement building despite his lingering reservations. "I'll make the arrangements. You just be ready to play your part."

Father and son regarded each other with newfound respect—conspirators now, united in their pursuit of the one woman who'd awakened something primal in both of them.

"To Saturday, then," Dattu said, raising an imaginary toast.

"To Saturday," Vishnu echoed, his voice tinged with anticipation. "And to Devika."

[prady12191]

The college biology lab was empty except for Devika, who bent over a microscope, adjusting the fine focus knob. Her saree dbangd over the edge of the stool as she leaned forward, completely absorbed in examining the specimen slide. The quiet hum of the air conditioning and occasional clinking of glass slides created a peaceful rhythm as she worked.

She didn't hear the door open behind her.

Strong hands suddenly gripped her hips, fingers pressing into the soft curve where her saree tucked into her petticoat. Devika froze, her body tensing at the unexpected touch.

"Beautiful specimen, madam," Pathan's voice was low in her ear, his breath warm against her neck.

Devika straightened immediately, turning to face him. "What do you think you're doing?" Her voice came out sharper than intended, eyes darting to the lab door.

"Relax," Pathan smirked, not removing his hands. "No one's here. I checked." His fingers tightened slightly on her waist. "Just us."

Devika stepped back, putting distance between them. "This isn't appropriate behavior in the classroom, Pathan. You need to conduct yourself properly."

Confusion flickered across his face. "Properly?" He laughed, the sound echoing in the empty lab. "Since when do you care about proper? After everything we've done?"

"That was different," Devika crossed her arms protectively. "This is my workplace."

Pathan moved forward, closing the gap she'd created. With surprising strength, he pulled her against him, one hand sliding around her waist.

"Let go," Devika whispered, though her resistance felt hollow even to her own ears.

His lips brushed her ear as he spoke. "I have more movies, madam. Special ones." His voice dropped lower. "You liked watching with me last time, remember?"

Despite herself, Devika felt heat rising in her cheeks. "This isn't the time or place. Please leave."

Pathan ignored her words, pressing closer. She felt his hips shift against her, the unmistakable hardness making her breath catch.

"The new one is very interesting," he continued, voice thick with suggestion. "A father and son sharing a high-class woman. Very educational."

Devika's mind instantly conjured images of Dattu and Vishnu. The whiskey on Dattu's breath as he'd kissed her. Vishnu's youthful eagerness in the college toilet. Father and son. The thought was both horrifying and somehow darkly fascinating.

"The way they take turns with her," Pathan continued, moving subtly against her. "Father taking her from behind while son—"

"From behind?" Devika's voice escaped as a shocked whisper before she could stop herself.

Pathan chuckled against her neck, clearly pleased by her reaction. "Yes, madam. In her ass." His grip tightened. "The woman screams, but not from pain. She loves it."

Devika couldn't believe she was engaging in this conversation, yet found herself unable to pull away. "That's... that wouldn't be... pleasant."

"Why, madam? Your husband never tried?" Pathan's question hung in the air between them.

Devika shook her head slightly. "No woman would want that."

"If given the chance," Pathan's voice grew husky, his body pressed firmly against hers now, "I would show you how good it can feel."

A sudden noise from the corridor outside—footsteps and voices—made them both freeze. Pathan released her immediately, stepping away with practiced ease. By the time the footsteps passed the lab without entering, he had moved to a respectful distance, pretending to examine a microscope.

"Think about my movie offer, madam," he said with a knowing smile before slipping out of the lab.

Devika stood motionless, her heart racing, skin still warm where his hands had been. She smoothed her saree, trying to compose herself before anyone else entered.

The door opened again about twenty minutes later. Vishnu appeared, his slight frame silhouetted against the bright hallway light. Seeing him immediately after her conversation with Pathan sent an uncomfortable jolt through her.

"Madam," he greeted with a small smile. "Are you busy?"

Devika cleared her throat. "Just finishing up some lab work. Did you need something?"

Vishnu approached, keeping a respectful distance unlike Pathan. "I wanted to ask you about my father."

The mention of Dattu made her pulse quicken. "What about him?"

"Has he been keeping his promise? About the drinking?"

Devika adjusted her saree pallu nervously. "I wouldn't know. I haven't visited since last weekend."

"He has," Vishnu nodded, seeming pleased. "He's been more focused, more like his old self before my mother died." He paused, studying her face. "He talks about you a lot."

Devika looked away, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. "I'm glad he's doing better."

"Actually," Vishnu continued, "that's why I wanted to find you. It's his birthday this weekend."

"Oh." Devika picked up a stack of papers, busying her hands. "That's nice."

"He was hoping you might come." Vishnu's voice softened. "I'm preparing a small celebration at our place. Nothing fancy, just dinner."

Devika hesitated. "Wouldn't he prefer to celebrate with family? Friends?"

"You don't understand." Vishnu moved closer, his eyes earnest. "He doesn't have many friends. It's been just us since my mother died. And you..." he paused, as if choosing his words carefully. "You've become important to us. To him especially."

The sincerity in his voice made her defenses waver. "I don't know if that would be appropriate."

"Please, madam." Vishnu's eyes held hers. "Seeing you brings him happiness. It would mean everything if you came."

Devika thought of Dattu—his weathered face, the loneliness in his eyes that alcohol couldn't quite mask. She thought of their kiss, impulsive and forbidden. She thought of Pathan's crude description of the video, and felt heat rise to her face.

"I shouldn't," she said weakly.

"Just for a little while," Vishnu pressed. "For his birthday. It would make him so happy."

The weight of expectation pressed on her. She thought of refusing, of drawing a firm boundary. But the image of Dattu waiting alone with his son on his birthday, hoping for her visit, made her resolve crumble.

"Alright," she conceded finally. "What time should I come?"

Relief and something else—triumph?—flashed across Vishnu's face. "Seven. I'll make his favorite dinner."

"I won't stay long," Devika cautioned. "And I expect it to remain... appropriate."

"Of course, madam." Vishnu nodded, backing toward the door. "Thank you. He'll be so pleased."

After he left, Devika sank onto a stool, wondering what she'd just agreed to. Father and son. The words from Pathan's description echoed in her mind, sending an involuntary shiver through her body. What was she doing? What dangerous game was she playing?

Yet despite her misgivings, she knew she would go. The pull was too strong, the curiosity too powerful. She would visit Dattu on his birthday, maintaining the pretense that it was nothing more than a teacher's kindness toward a student's family.

Deep down, though, she recognized the lie in her justification. Something was drawing her back to that small apartment, to the gruff mechanic with hungry eyes who had kissed her with desperate need. Something that had little to do with kindness and everything to do with the awakening of desires she'd long suppressed.

[prady12191]

Saturday evening arrived with unexpected swiftness, the week's classes and responsibilities blurring together as Devika's thoughts kept returning to her impending visit. Standing before her bedroom mirror, she adjusted the pleats of her pale lavender chiffon saree, the delicate fabric catching the light as she moved. She'd chosen it deliberately—elegant but not too formal, the translucent material offering glimpses of her silhouette beneath.

Her fingers worked methodically, tucking the pleats into her petticoat before dbanging the pallu over her shoulder. She applied kohl around her eyes with careful precision, dabbed crimson on her lips, and added a touch more blush than she typically wore to class. The woman in the mirror looked both familiar and foreign—still Devika, but somehow transformed.

"What are you doing?" she whispered to her reflection, even as she reached for the small bottle of jasmine perfume, applying it to her wrists, behind her ears, and at the hollow of her throat. The sweet scent enveloped her, mingling with the fresh jasmine flowers woven into her braid.

On her way to Dattu's apartment, she stopped at a small clothing shop, hesitating before the men's section. After several minutes of indecision, she selected a blue cotton shirt with subtle checks—practical yet nicer than anything she'd seen Dattu wear. The shopkeeper wrapped it carefully in tissue paper, smiling as she handed over the money.

"Special occasion?" he asked.

"A birthday," she replied simply, slipping the package into her handbag.

Climbing the stairs to Dattu's apartment, Devika's heart pounded with each step. She paused outside the door, smoothing her saree and taking a steadying breath before knocking softly.

The door swung open almost immediately. Vishnu stood there, a broad smile lighting his face.

"Madam! You came." His eyes traveled appreciatively over her appearance before he stepped aside. "Please, come in."

The small apartment had been transformed. A string of colored lights hung along one wall, and the coffee table held a modest chocolate cake, bottles of soft drinks, and several parcels wrapped in foil. The familiar scent of biryani filled the space, making Devika suddenly aware of her own hunger.

Dattu emerged from the bedroom, his face breaking into an unrestrained smile at the sight of her. Unlike his usual disheveled appearance, he'd trimmed his beard and combed his hair back neatly.

"Teacher," he said, his voice gentler than she remembered. "You honor us."

Vishnu busied himself with the food, unwrapping a foil packet to reveal steaming chicken biryani. "I got gulab jamun too, and ice cream in the freezer."

"Happy birthday," Devika said, reaching into her handbag. "I brought something for you."

She handed Dattu the wrapped package. His weathered fingers opened it with surprising delicacy, his eyes widening at the contents.

"A shirt?" He held it up, examining the fabric with genuine appreciation. "Very fine. Very expensive-looking."

"It's nothing special," Devika demurred, though pleased by his reaction.

Without warning, Dattu unbuttoned the faded shirt he was wearing, slipping it off his shoulders to reveal his bare chest. Devika averted her eyes, but not before noticing the lean muscles beneath the weathered skin, the gray hair that covered his torso.

"Look," he said after a moment, pride evident in his voice. "Perfect fit."

Devika glanced up to see Dattu modeling the new shirt, smoothing the fabric over his chest. It transformed him somehow, lending a dignity that his usual clothing lacked.

"You look handsome, Father," Vishnu said, setting plates on the table.

"Very nice," Devika agreed, feeling warmth rise to her cheeks.

"And you," Dattu said, his eyes moving slowly over her form, "are beautiful tonight. Special perfume? Special flowers in your hair?"

"Just a little effort," she replied softly. "For your birthday."

"The most beautiful teacher in all of Pune," Vishnu added, standing beside his father. "We are lucky men tonight."

Father and son exchanged a look that Devika couldn't quite interpret, a silent communication that made her suddenly aware of being alone with them in the small apartment, the door closed behind her.

[prady12191]

Dinner concluded with comfortable conversation, the biryani praised and plates emptied. As Vishnu cleared the table, Dattu glanced at the chocolate cake waiting in the center, its surface gleaming under the colored lights.

"Time to cut the cake, Father," Vishnu announced, placing a single candle in the center and lighting it with a match. The flame danced, casting flickering shadows across their faces.

Dattu stared at the cake, his expression suddenly distant. His weathered hand reached for the knife but stopped midway. His shoulders began to tremble, and to Devika's surprise, tears welled in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" Devika asked, alarmed by the sudden change. "Dattu?"

Vishnu touched her elbow gently. "Madam, can you come with me for a moment?" His voice was hushed with concern.

Confused, Devika followed him into the small bedroom off the main living area. The space was sparse—a single bed with a faded quilt, a wooden chair, and photos of a woman Devika presumed was Vishnu's mother taped to the wall.

"I'm sorry about that," Vishnu said, closing the door partway. "Every birthday is like this. It's when he misses my mother the most."

"I didn't realize," Devika murmured, feeling like an intruder. "Perhaps I should leave. This seems like a family moment."

"No, please." Vishnu stepped closer, his eyes earnest. "Actually, I had a thought—it might sound strange but..."

"What is it?" Devika prompted when he hesitated.

"My father hasn't celebrated properly since my mother passed. He needs someone..." Vishnu paused, seemingly searching for the right words. "Madam, if you don't mind, could you replace my mother's place? Just for tonight?"

Devika stared at him, uncomprehending. "Replace your mother?"

"Just for the cake cutting," Vishnu clarified quickly. "Stand beside him where she would have stood. Help him blow out the candle. It would mean everything to him."

Pathan's words about the father and son from the explicit video flashed unbidden through Devika's mind. She pushed the thought away, feeling heat rise to her face.

"I don't know if that's appropriate," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Please, madam." Vishnu's eyes were pleading now. "Just for this birthday. Give him company as his wife until we finish the celebration. He'll be happy again, I promise."

Devika glanced toward the partially open door, where she could see Dattu sitting motionless before the cake, shoulders slumped in defeat. Something in his vulnerability touched her—this gruff man reduced to tears by memory and loneliness.

"Alright," she conceded hesitantly. "If it will help him enjoy his birthday."

Relief flooded Vishnu's face. "Thank you, madam. You are too kind."

They returned to find Dattu wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Vishnu approached his father, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Father, don't cry. I have good news." He gestured toward Devika. "You have a new wife today."

Dattu looked up, genuine surprise crossing his features as his gaze settled on Devika.

"Just for tonight," Devika added quickly, her heart racing. "For your birthday celebration. You can... think of me as your wife."

Dattu shook his head slightly. "No, no. I couldn't ask such a thing of you, teacher."

"You didn't ask. I offered," Devika said, stepping closer. The words felt strange on her lips, yet something about Dattu's vulnerability emboldened her. "It's not good to be sad on your birthday."

She moved beside him, the jasmine scent of her perfume filling the space between them. "Let's cut the cake together."

Dattu looked up at her, his expression torn between hesitation and longing. After a moment, he nodded, the corners of his mouth lifting in a tentative smile.

"Stand closer," Vishnu directed, producing his phone. "Like a real couple."

Devika positioned herself next to Dattu, their shoulders touching. The warmth of his body radiated through the new blue shirt she'd given him. His hand trembled slightly as he picked up the knife.

"Like this," Devika murmured, placing her hand over his on the knife handle. Together, they leaned forward to blow out the candle, their faces momentarily inches apart. Vishnu's phone camera clicked repeatedly, capturing the moment.

The flame extinguished, they pressed the knife through the chocolate layers. Dattu's tension seemed to melt as they completed this simple ritual together. Vishnu applauded enthusiastically.

"Now feed each other," he prompted, still taking photos. "Like at a wedding."

Devika broke off a small piece of cake, her fingers trembling slightly as she raised it to Dattu's lips. His eyes never left hers as his mouth opened, accepting the offering. The tips of her fingers brushed his lips, the contact sending an unexpected shiver through her body.

Dattu returned the gesture, his calloused fingers surprisingly gentle as he offered her a piece. The sweetness of chocolate filled her mouth as she accepted it, aware of his intense gaze following the movement of her lips.

"Happy birthday, Father," Vishnu said, breaking the moment as he too fed his father a piece of cake. Then, to Devika's surprise, he held out another piece for her. "And for our special guest."

The familial intimacy of the moment was disconcerting. Devika accepted the cake from Vishnu, acutely conscious of both men watching her every movement. Father and son, their attention entirely focused on her.

"Thank you for making this birthday special," Dattu said, his voice lower, rougher than before. His hand found hers under the table, squeezing it briefly. "It means more than you know."

Devika nodded, unable to form words as Dattu's thumb traced small circles on her palm before releasing it. The simple touch left her breathless, confused by her own reaction.

Across the table, Vishnu smiled as he put his phone away, satisfied with the photos he'd captured. His eyes met his father's in another silent exchange that left Devika feeling like an outsider witnessing a private conversation.

"More cake?" Vishnu offered, breaking the moment. "Or perhaps some music? Father loves old Hindi songs."

As Vishnu moved to connect his phone to a small speaker, Devika caught Dattu watching her, his expression no longer sad but something more complex—gratitude mixed with an intensity that made her pulse quicken.

"Happy birthday," she whispered again, unsure what else to say in this strange tableau they'd created—the pretend wife, the grieving husband, and the son orchestrating their performance with calculated precision.

"Let's take some proper photos now," Vishnu suggested, positioning his phone on the table. "Father, stand with your new wife."

Dattu moved beside Devika, hesitant yet eager. He glanced at her, a silent question in his eyes.

"It's alright," Devika said softly, giving him a small smile of permission.

Emboldened, Dattu stepped closer, his weathered hands finding their way to her waist. The weight of his touch was firm yet cautious, his calloused fingers pressing gently against the thin chiffon of her saree. Devika held herself perfectly still, aware of each point where his body connected with hers.

"Perfect!" Vishnu exclaimed, capturing several shots. "Now, let's take a selfie together. Family style."

Before Devika could process his words, Vishnu had joined them, positioning himself on her other side. She found herself sandwiched between father and son, Vishnu's arm snaking around her waist without hesitation. His fingers rested just below Dattu's, creating a strange symmetry of touch.

Devika drew in a sharp breath, the novel sensation of two men's hands on her waist simultaneously sending an unexpected tremor through her body. Father and son, their body heat enveloping her from both sides, their grip possessive yet careful.

"Smile!" Vishnu directed, extending his arm to capture the image.

The flash momentarily blinded her. When it cleared, Vishnu was examining the photo with satisfaction.

"Father, why don't you feed Devika more cake? It's delicious, isn't it, madam?"

Devika nodded, though she'd barely tasted the first piece. Something felt different—a warmth spreading through her limbs, a heightened awareness of every sensation. As Dattu broke off another piece of cake, her mouth watered inexplicably.

"Open," he instructed gently, holding the cake to her lips.

Devika parted her lips, accepting the sweet offering. As she chewed, an unusual heat bloomed low in her abdomen, spreading outward in waves. Her heartbeat quickened, skin suddenly hypersensitive to the air around her.

"Let's make it more special," Vishnu suggested, his voice seeming to come from far away. "Father, hug her while you feed her."

Before Dattu could move, Devika found herself leaning toward him, her body acting of its own accord. Their eyes locked in mutual surprise at her eagerness. Dattu recovered quickly, his arm encircling her shoulders as he offered another piece of cake. This time when his fingers brushed her lips, she felt an almost electric current pass between them.

"These photos are too formal," Vishnu complained, studying his phone screen. "We need more romantic shots. Devika madam, how about a kiss on your husband's cheek?"

A part of her mind registered the strangeness of the request, but it was overwhelmed by a new, insistent desire for contact. With only token hesitation, Devika leaned in, pressing her crimson-stained lips against Dattu's weathered cheek. His beard tickled her face, rough yet not unpleasant.

Dattu closed his eyes, savoring the moment with visible pleasure. "Heaven," he whispered, so quietly only she could hear.

"Now it's Father's turn," Vishnu announced, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Dattu turned to face her fully, one hand coming up to cup her cheek. Without waiting for permission, he pressed his lips firmly against hers. The kiss was neither gentle nor rough—simply hungry, desperate with long-denied need.

"Perfect," Vishnu murmured. "Now for the family portrait."

He set his phone on a shelf, activating the timer. "Let me show how a son and husband both adore the woman of the house."

Before Devika could comprehend his meaning, Vishnu had returned to her side. Father and son embraced her from either side, their arms forming a cage of male attention around her slender frame.

"Look at the camera," Vishnu instructed, then whispered something to his father.

In perfect synchronization, they leaned in—Dattu's lips pressing against her right cheek, Vishnu's against her left. The dual sensation froze Devika in place, her mind struggling to process the intimate tableau they created. Both men's lips lingered, warm and insistent against her skin, as the camera flashed repeatedly.

She stood trapped between them, the strange heat in her body intensifying with each heartbeat, each breath drawing in their mingled scents. Father and son, their shared desire wrapping around her like a tangible force as the camera captured what appeared to be a perfect family moment.

[prady12191]

The warmth of their lips against both her cheeks left Devika in a daze. As they pulled away, something inside her crumbled—a wall of loneliness she'd carefully constructed over months of neglect. Her eyes welled with tears before she could stop them, overflowing silently down her flushed cheeks.

"What happened?" Dattu's weathered hand cupped her face, his thumb gently wiping away a tear. "Did we upset you?"

Devika shook her head, unable to speak through the tightness in her throat.

"Tell us," Dattu urged, his voice unusually tender. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she whispered, but the tears kept flowing.

"Please," Dattu pressed, his calloused fingers still cradling her face. "Something troubles you."

The gentleness broke something within her. Words spilled out before she could contain them. "Rajeevan... my husband..." Her voice cracked on the word. "The way he treats me... showing off other women on video calls... laughing at my pain..."

Dattu's expression darkened, his jaw tightening beneath his beard. "He hurts you?"

"Not with his hands," Devika explained, her voice small. "With his betrayal. His indifference."

Vishnu moved closer, his eyes calculating beneath a mask of concern. "Madam, don't worry about your worthless husband." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Forget him. Think of your new husband instead." He gestured toward Dattu. "Someone who appreciates you."

Dattu opened his arms, offering comfort. "Come."

Devika hesitated only briefly before stepping into his embrace. The solid warmth of his chest against her cheek felt like an anchor in a storm. His arms enveloped her completely, strong yet gentle, as he guided her head to rest against his shoulder. The faint scent of soap and motor oil clung to his skin—honest smells, working-man smells, so different from Rajeevan's expensive cologne that masked his deceit.

"There, there," Dattu murmured, his rough hand stroking her back. "No tears on my birthday."

Vishnu moved to the table, cutting another slice of cake. "Father, feed her more cake. Sweet things for sweet emotions."

Dattu broke off a piece with his fingers, offering it to Devika's lips. Before she could accept it, Vishnu stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with a new idea.

"Why don't you share it?" he suggested. "Both eat the cake together."

Dattu's questioning gaze moved from his son to Devika. She caught his meaning immediately—what Vishnu was proposing went beyond simple comfort. Yet instead of recoiling, she felt a flutter of forbidden anticipation.

She looked at Vishnu, then back at Dattu. Something in the older man's eyes—hunger mingled with reverence—made her nod slightly.

"Yes," she whispered, surprised by her own acquiescence.

Dattu placed the small piece of cake between Devika's lips, leaving half exposed. His eyes never left hers as he leaned forward, his mouth closing over the exposed cake and brushing against her lips in the process. The intimate act of sharing food this way sent a jolt of electricity through her body. She felt the chocolate melt between them, sweetness mingling with the salt of her dried tears.

"Father," Vishnu observed, his voice slightly strained, "there's still cake on her lips. Don't waste it."

Dattu needed no further encouragement. His mouth descended on hers again, this time with unmistakable intent. His lips locked with hers, tongue sweeping across to collect the remnants of chocolate. What began as a pretext quickly transformed into a deep, hungry kiss.

Devika moaned against his mouth, torn between guilt and a spreading heat that seemed to liquefy her bones. Dattu's hands moved to her back, fingers splaying wide to feel the curves beneath her saree blouse. His touch was reverent yet possessive, exploring territory long forbidden to him.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, Vishnu stepped behind Devika. Before she could recover, his arms encircled her waist from behind, creating a sandwich between father and son.

"I won't let my mother be hurt," he murmured against her ear, his lips finding the sensitive skin of her neck. "Not anymore."

"Vishnu," Devika gasped, his name both protest and plea. "Stop..." But her body betrayed her words, head tilting to allow him better access as his lips traced a burning path down her neck.

Vishnu's hands settled on her waist, fingers working methodically to loosen her saree. With practiced ease, he lowered the fabric, exposing the bare skin above her petticoat. His palms pressed against her bare midriff, the coolness of his touch making her shiver.

"Mom, you're so sexy," he whispered, pressing his body against her from behind.

Devika's eyes fluttered closed. "Don't... don't call me that. It feels strange."

"It's okay, Mom," Vishnu insisted, his voice thick with desire. "Today your son and husband both will give you happiness." His hands gripped her hips firmly, pushing her forward into Dattu's body.

Dattu stood before them, having shed his new blue shirt. His chest was bare, graying hair tapering down to his stomach, muscles still defined despite his age. The sight of him—this older, working-class man with hunger in his eyes—should have repelled her. Instead, Devika felt drawn to his raw masculinity, so different from Rajeevan's manicured perfection.

As Vishnu pressed her against Dattu's bare chest, an electric current seemed to pass between them. The heat of Dattu's skin against her face, the solid strength of his arms as they encircled her once more, the unmistakable hardness pressed against her abdomen—all combined to sweep away the last vestiges of resistance.

"My wife," Dattu murmured, the possessive words sending a shudder through her. "Even if just for tonight."

Behind her, Vishnu's hands continued their exploration, fingers spreading wide across her exposed waist, thumbs tracing the sensitive dip of her spine. His body pressed insistently against her from behind, his arousal evident against the curve of her buttocks.

Father and son, their bodies forming a cage of male desire around her. Devika stood suspended between them, knowing she should pull away, knowing this crossed every boundary of propriety. Yet the loneliness of months in Pune, the sting of Rajeevan's betrayal, the heady sensation of being truly wanted—all conspired to keep her still, accepting their touch as the colored lights blinked overhead, casting shifting shadows across their entangled forms.

[prady12191]

Trapped between their bodies, Devika suddenly pulled away from both men. Her chest heaved with rapid breaths as she stepped back, creating distance between them. Dattu and Vishnu exchanged confused glances, their expressions uncertain.

Dattu reached for her hand, his weathered fingers trembling slightly. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "This was wrong of us. We trapped you, put you in this situation..."

To his surprise, Devika laughed—a low, knowing sound that stopped his apology mid-sentence. She adjusted her saree where Vishnu had loosened it, but made no move to leave.

"I'm not a small girl who doesn't understand your motives," she said, her voice steady despite the flush on her cheeks. "I knew what this was when Vishnu called me for your 'birthday.' Did you think I was that naive?"

Vishnu's eyes widened. "You knew?"

"Of course I knew." Devika's gaze moved between them, unflinching. "Your son has had his eyes on me from the first day of class. He took me into the boys' toilet twice. I..." she paused, then continued boldly, "I pleasured him with my mouth. And with you—" her eyes locked with Dattu's, "I drank alcohol for the first time and kissed you willingly. Did you really think I couldn't see your intentions?"

Father and son exchanged stunned glances.

"Then why did you come?" Dattu asked finally, confusion evident in his furrowed brow.

Something shifted in Devika's expression—vulnerability briefly replacing confidence before hardening into resolve. "Perhaps I wanted to be trapped."

"Thank you," Vishnu whispered, a smile spreading across his face as he pulled his shirt over his head in one fluid motion, revealing his lean torso. "For being honest."

Beside him, Dattu stood shirtless, the contrast between their bodies striking—the son's smooth, youthful skin against the father's weathered, hair-covered chest.

"Father," Vishnu said, his voice eager, "make Mom happy. Help her forget that worthless husband Rajeevan."

Devika's expression tightened. "Don't call me Mom," she said firmly. "I'm your teacher. Thinking of a son doing... this... with his mother feels wrong."

Vishnu moved behind her again, his hands finding her waist. "But it will be more fun," he whispered against her ear. "Enjoying my favorite teacher while imagining her as a young, sexy mom." His lips brushed her earlobe. "A woman with her husband and son."

Before Devika could protest further, Vishnu's fingers slid through her hair, pulling it gently to expose the curve of her shoulder. With deliberate slowness, he placed a dollop of chocolate cake on her bare skin, then bent to consume it, his tongue working methodically against her flesh.

Dattu remained silent, watching for a moment before stepping forward to embrace her from the front. His calloused hands settled on her back, drawing her against his naked chest. Devika allowed herself to be enfolded in his arms, feeling the coarse hair tickle her cheek, inhaling the masculine scent of his skin.

With trembling fingers, she took a piece of cake and placed it between her own lips. "Eat," she commanded softly, looking up at Dattu.

His eyes darkened with hunger as he lowered his mouth to hers. His lips claimed the cake and her mouth simultaneously, his tongue pushing the sweet morsel deeper into her mouth. They shared the dessert between them, chocolate dissolving as their tongues intertwined, tasting each other along with the sweetness.

When they finally broke apart, Devika's breathing had grown shallow, her pupils dilated with desire. "Can we..." she hesitated, glancing between them. "Can we do this one after another? I feel a little uncomfortable having two men at the same time."

Dattu's weathered hand cupped her chin. "You will like it," he assured her, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. "Two men giving you attention simultaneously." Without waiting for her response, he claimed her lips again, his kiss more demanding than before.

Behind her, Vishnu's hands moved to the tuck of her saree at her waist. With practiced ease, he loosened the fabric, letting it fall away to reveal her navel. The cool air against her exposed skin made Devika moan into Dattu's mouth, the sound muffled by his persistent kisses.

Vishnu's fingers traced the contours of her navel, exploring its depth with deliberate pressure. "Sexy deep navel, Mom," he murmured appreciatively, his touch sending shivers up her spine.

"Ah, Vishnu," Devika gasped against Dattu's lips, never breaking their kiss. The dual sensations—Dattu's mouth demanding her attention while Vishnu's fingers played across her sensitive midriff—sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body.

Suddenly impatient, Vishnu stepped away from her back, watching as Devika and Dattu remained locked in their passionate embrace. Unable to contain himself, he reached forward and pulled her away from his father. Their lips separated with an audible sound, a glistening strand of saliva connecting them momentarily before breaking.

Before Devika could catch her breath, Vishnu captured her mouth with his own. The difference was immediate—where Dattu's kiss had been rough and experienced, Vishnu's was eager and demanding, his youthful energy evident in the urgency of his touch.

A strange thrill coursed through Devika as she tasted the mingled flavors of both men on her lips. Father and son, their kisses as different as their personalities, yet both igniting desires she'd long suppressed.

"Sexy Mom," Vishnu moaned against her mouth, his hands gripping her hips. "Call me son," he pleaded between kisses. "Please."

Devika shook her head slightly, unwilling to cross that particular boundary. But Vishnu's hands moved lower, pressing firmly against the curve of her buttocks, kneading the flesh through her saree with insistent pressure.

The sensation broke her resolve. "Son," she whispered against his lips, the forbidden word sending a shameful thrill through her body. "Love your mom. Make her happy."

Dattu, growing impatient with waiting, suddenly pulled Devika away from Vishnu. "Let me finish what I started with your mom," he growled. Once again, their lips separated with a wet sound, a glistening thread connecting them momentarily.

Without giving her time to breathe, Dattu reclaimed her mouth in a fierce kiss, his arms encircling her possessively. Vishnu, undeterred, moved behind her again, his chest pressing against her back as his arms encircled her waist.

"Looks like Father can't stop kissing your sexy lips," Vishnu whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

"Yes," Devika moaned into Dattu's mouth, the word barely intelligible as his tongue explored her depths.

Vishnu's hands squeezed her waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh. "Such sexy hips," he murmured, massaging her midriff with increasing pressure.

Devika groaned into Dattu's mouth, the slight pain of Vishnu's grip adding a sharp edge to her pleasure. Emboldened by her response, Vishnu slowly moved his hands upward, until they reached the swell of her breasts. Through the fabric of her blouse and the thin material of her bra, his fingers closed around the soft mounds.

The sensation of Vishnu's hands on her breasts sent a flood of moisture between Devika's thighs. She responded by kissing Dattu harder, channeling her arousal into the meeting of their lips.

"Ah," Vishnu moaned, squeezing gently. "These are so firm and soft."

Father and son had her completely in their possession now—Dattu consuming her mouth with hungry kisses while Vishnu explored her body from behind. Any thought of resistance had long since evaporated, replaced by a burning need that overwhelmed her sense of propriety. In this moment, she wasn't Professor Devika from Kerala, the dutiful wife abandoned by her husband. She was simply a woman, desired and cherished by two men who saw her not as an exotic curiosity, but as the center of their universe.

Vishnu's grip on her breasts suddenly shifted. His hands withdrew, fingers curling around the edge of her pallu that dbangd over her shoulder. He tugged experimentally, finding it securely pinned. Undeterred, his fingers moved to her shoulder, seeking the small silver safety pin that held the fabric in place.

"Let me," he whispered, his breath hot against her neck as he worked the pin free.

Devika felt the gentle tug as Vishnu pulled her pallu away. Though still locked in Dattu's demanding kiss, she instinctively shifted, creating space for the fabric to fall without breaking their embrace. The lavender chiffon slipped away, pooling at her side like abandoned modesty.

The removal of that barrier changed everything. Dattu groaned against her mouth as her body pressed more intimately against his—her breasts, still covered by her blouse and bra, now directly meeting his bare chest, her waist exposed completely to his wandering hands. The hardness between his legs pressed insistently against her thighs, a rigid reminder of his desire.

Behind her, Vishnu's arousal pressed against the curve of her buttocks, creating a sandwich of masculine need with her caught willingly between. His hands returned to her breasts, this time squeezing with greater force, testing the boundaries of pleasure and pain.

Devika broke away from Dattu's kiss with a sharp gasp, her expression contorted with the intensity of sensation. Their eyes met—hers filled with a mixture of shock and arousal, his dark with unrestrained hunger. After a moment's hesitation, she leaned forward again, reclaiming his mouth with newfound urgency.

"Father is already hard," Vishnu murmured, his voice thick with suggestion. "Let him feel your touch."

He reached for her hands, guiding them downward to the knot of Dattu's dhoti. Under his son's direction, Devika's fingers worked to untie the simple knot. The cotton fabric loosened immediately, and her eyes widened at the realization that Dattu wore nothing underneath. The dhoti fell open, revealing his naked arousal.

Vishnu guided her hands to his father's manhood, wrapping her fingers around the thick shaft. "Show him how you appreciate a real man," he urged.

Devika's soft hands encircled Dattu, feeling the heat and hardness beneath her palm. She ceased kissing him, pulling back slightly to look directly into his eyes as her hand began to move in slow, deliberate strokes. The intimacy of maintaining eye contact while touching him this way sent a shiver down her spine—this was no fumbling encounter in a college toilet but something far more deliberate and meaningful.

Her thumb swept over the tip, exploring the moisture gathered there. Dattu moaned deeply, his weathered face contorting with pleasure at her touch.

"Ah," he groaned, his eyes never leaving hers. "Your hands are so soft."

Behind her, Vishnu grew impatient with the remaining barriers between them. His hands moved to her waist, fingers slipping beneath the tucked edge of her saree. With practiced ease, he loosened the pleats and pulled, unwrapping her like a precious gift. The lavender fabric whispered as it fell, pooling around her feet in a circle of abandoned propriety.

Devika stood before them in just her petticoat and blouse, more exposed than she'd been with any man since her marriage. The cool air against her bare skin raised goosebumps along her arms and legs.

"Dattu," she said with unexpected playfulness, her hand never ceasing its rhythmic movements on his manhood, "your son has stripped his mom." A small smile played at the corners of her mouth, surprising even herself with her boldness.

Dattu's eyes darkened at her words. "Yes," he growled, "no son can control himself when they get a young, sexy mom like you." His hands moved behind her, reaching past Vishnu to grip the firm flesh of her buttocks. His fingers dug into the soft curves, kneading with possessive hunger.

"Do you like my cock?" he asked, his voice rough with need.

Devika nodded, her smile deepening as she continued stroking him. The vulgarity of his question should have shocked her, yet instead it sent a thrill of forbidden excitement through her body.

Vishnu leaned forward, his lips close to his father's ear. "Take off her blouse," he suggested. "See what she's been hiding under those conservative clothes."

Dattu's hands moved to the front of her blouse, fingers trembling slightly as they approached the row of hooks. His eyes sought hers, silently asking permission. Devika's slight smile and almost imperceptible nod were all the encouragement he needed.

With reverent care, he unfastened each hook, revealing more of her skin with each movement. The pale fabric of her bra came into view—simple white cotton, practical rather than seductive. When the last hook gave way, Dattu's eyes widened at the sight of her breasts still contained within the modest undergarment.

"Let me," Vishnu murmured, reaching around to slide the opened blouse from her shoulders. The garment fell away, leaving her upper body covered only by her bra.

"Sexy boobs," Dattu whispered in awe, his hands moving to cup the soft mounds. "Like I've only seen in movies." He squeezed gently, testing their firmness with calloused fingers.

Without warning, he pulled her into a tight embrace, burying his face in her cleavage. The scratch of his beard against her sensitive skin made Devika gasp. Dattu inhaled deeply, as if trying to memorize her scent, then began to lick and suck at the exposed skin above her bra.

"Mmm," Devika moaned, her free hand coming up to cradle the back of his head, encouraging his attention.

Meanwhile, Vishnu had grown impatient with watching. His hands slipped beneath the waistband of her petticoat, fingers delving lower until they encountered the barrier of her panties. Through the thin fabric, he found the center of her pleasure and began to rub in slow, deliberate circles.

The dual assault—Dattu's mouth on her breasts and Vishnu's fingers between her legs—drew a deep moan from Devika's throat. Instinctively, she pressed her buttocks back against Vishnu's arousal, grinding against him in rhythm with his touch.

Emboldened by her response, Vishnu pushed her panties aside, his fingers making direct contact with her most intimate flesh. He found her already slick with desire, her body betraying how much she wanted this forbidden encounter.

Overcome with sensation, Devika raised her arms backward, reaching to grasp Vishnu's head. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as she arched her back in pleasure.

The movement exposed her armpits, drawing Dattu's attention away from her cleavage. His eyes fixed on the smooth hollow beneath her raised arm, a surprisingly intimate area he hadn't expected to find so enticing.

"So soft and clean," he murmured, leaning in to nuzzle the sensitive skin. "You Kerala ladies are clean and sexy everywhere."

He buried his face against her armpit, inhaling deeply. "Ah, sexy woman smell," he groaned, the unusual intimacy of the act sending a shiver through Devika's body. No man had ever paid such attention to this part of her before, not even Rajeevan. Dattu moved to her other armpit, giving it the same devoted attention, his lips and tongue exploring the tender flesh with unexpected reverence.

Meanwhile, Vishnu had slipped a finger inside her, beginning a slow, rhythmic penetration that made her knees weaken. A second finger joined the first, stretching her gently as his thumb continued to circle the sensitive bundle of nerves above.

Overwhelmed by the dual sensations—Dattu's mouth on her most unexpected erogenous zone while Vishnu's fingers worked their magic between her thighs—Devika reached for Dattu's face, cradling it between her palms as she pulled him up for a desperate kiss.

"Father and son are making me crazy," she moaned against his lips, her voice thick with desire and disbelief at her own surrender. "I never knew it could feel like this."

Her words seemed to ignite something primal in both men. Dattu kissed her with renewed hunger while Vishnu's fingers moved faster, deeper, curling inside her to find the spot that made her gasp into Dattu's mouth. Father and son worked in perfect harmony, as if they'd planned this seduction for years rather than days.

In this moment, caught between their bodies and their desire, Devika surrendered completely to sensation. All thoughts of propriety, of her role as teacher, of her marriage to the distant, unfaithful Rajeevan—all dissolved in the heat of their combined attention. Here, in this small apartment with its blinking colored lights and half-eaten birthday cake, she became simply a woman—desired, worshipped, and finally, thoroughly claimed by the mechanic and his son.

[prady12191]

Dattu pulled away from Devika's lips, his breath ragged against her skin. His weathered hands gripped her waist as he tilted his head, nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply along the curve of her neck. The intoxicating blend of jasmine perfume and her natural scent overwhelmed him.

"Your smell," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "Better than anything."

His lips descended on her neck, no longer tentative but hungry and demanding. He sucked at the tender skin, drawing it between his teeth with careful pressure. Devika's head fell back, a soft moan escaping her parted lips.

Behind her, Vishnu seized the opportunity, his mouth finding the opposite side of her neck. Father and son worked in tandem, their lips creating twin points of exquisite sensation. The dual assault made Devika cry out, her body arching between them as they marked her pale skin with matching passion.

"Oh god," she gasped, her voice barely recognizable to her own ears. "What are you doing to me?"

Neither man answered with words. Dattu's hardness pressed insistently against her waist through the thin fabric of her petticoat, the rigid length a testament to his arousal. His hands roamed her sides, mapping the contours of her body as if committing every curve to memory.

Suddenly, Dattu broke away from her neck. His movements deliberate, he lowered himself to his knees before her, his face level with her exposed midriff. His eyes widened as he gazed at the gentle swell of her stomach, the dip of her navel, the soft curve where her petticoat began.

Behind her, Vishnu continued his assault on her senses, his lips trailing from her neck to her bare shoulders. His teeth grazed the thin strap of her bra, tugging it slightly before releasing it to snap gently against her skin. Each tiny sting sent shivers cascading down Devika's spine.

"Such beautiful shoulders," Vishnu whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "So soft."

Kneeling before her, Dattu spread his calloused hands across her waist, his fingers spanning her midriff with reverent pressure. His thumbs traced the curve of her hip bones, following the indentation where muscle met bone.

"Look at these curves," he exclaimed, his voice thick with admiration. "Like a film actress. Such sexy hips." His rough fingers contrasted sharply with the softness of her skin, the juxtaposition heightening every sensation.

"No one has ever touched me like this," Devika admitted, her voice barely audible above their collective breathing.

Dattu leaned forward, burying his face against her stomach. His beard scratched lightly against her sensitive skin as he inhaled deeply, drawing her scent into his lungs. He rubbed his cheeks against her midriff, his eyes closing in bliss at the silken texture beneath his weathered face.

"So soft," he murmured against her skin. "Like touching heaven."

Vishnu, unwilling to be forgotten, titled Devika's head backward and claimed her lips in a demanding kiss. His tongue plunged into her mouth, exploring its depths with youthful urgency. She responded instinctively, her tongue meeting his, tasting the sweetness of chocolate cake still lingering from earlier.

Below, Dattu's attention focused on her navel—that small, perfect depression that had captivated him since first seeing her. He pressed a gentle kiss to the sensitive hollow, his breath warming the skin around it. The tenderness lasted only a moment before hunger overtook him.

His mouth opened against her navel, tongue delving inside with sudden urgency. Dattu kissed her there as passionately as he had kissed her lips, his mouth working against the sensitive depression with increasing fervor.

"Ah!" Devika cried out against Vishnu's lips, the unexpected intensity of sensation making her knees buckle. Her hands flew to Dattu's head, fingers tangling in his graying hair, neither pulling him away nor pushing him closer—simply holding on as waves of pleasure radiated from her core.

Encouraged by her response, Dattu intensified his attention. His tongue circled the rim of her navel before plunging inside again, mimicking a more intimate act. He sucked strongly at the delicate hollow, drawing the skin between his lips, creating a vacuum that pulled at her most sensitive nerves.

The unexpected pleasure was almost too much. Devika's fingers tightened in his hair, her body trembling between the two men. "Dattu," she gasped, breaking away from Vishnu's kiss. "I never knew... my navel could feel like this."

Dattu responded by grazing his teeth against the skin surrounding her navel, delivering gentle nips that balanced precariously between pleasure and pain. Each tiny bite sent jolts of electricity through her body, connecting her navel directly to the throbbing heat between her thighs.

"Father knows how to make a woman feel good," Vishnu murmured in her ear, his hands moving to cup her breasts through her bra. "Let him worship you."

Dattu continued his devoted attention, his mouth never leaving her midriff as his hands slid lower, fingers hooking into the waistband of her petticoat. He tugged gently, a question in the gesture. Devika's hands remained in his hair, neither stopping nor encouraging him, her body caught in a whirlwind of sensation.

"Your navel is so deep," Dattu whispered against her skin between kisses. "Perfect for my tongue." He demonstrated his meaning by stiffening his tongue and probing deeper into the hollow, the intimate invasion making Devika gasp.

Her head fell back against Vishnu's shoulder, her throat exposed like an offering. Vishnu immediately claimed the vulnerable flesh, his teeth scbanging gently along the column of her neck while his hands continued kneading her breasts with increasing pressure.

"Please," Devika moaned, though what she was begging for, she couldn't articulate. More? Release? For them to stop? Her body and mind seemed disconnected, her senses overwhelmed by their dual assault.

Dattu's mouth traveled lower, teeth grazing the soft swell below her navel, the sensitive area just above where her petticoat began. His beard scratched deliciously against her tender skin as he explored every inch of her exposed midriff.

"I've dreamed of this," he confessed against her stomach. "Every night since I first saw you." His confession vibrated against her flesh, sending tremors through her core.

"Both of us have," Vishnu added, his voice husky with desire. "Father and son, wanting the same woman."

The words should have shocked her, should have broken the spell, but instead, they fueled the fire building inside. To be wanted so desperately, so completely by two men—father and son united in their desire for her—was intoxicating after months of Rajeevan's casual disregard.

Devika's hands tightened in Dattu's hair, guiding his mouth back to her navel. "More," she whispered, the single word both command and plea. "Don't stop."

[prady12191]

Vishnu knelt behind Devika, his hands discovering the delicate curves where her waist flared into her hips. His fingers traced the soft folds of skin at her sides, the subtle creases where her body yielded to gentle pressure. These hidden contours, normally concealed beneath her modest sarees, now exposed to his hungry exploration.

"Such beautiful curves," he murmured, his voice thick with appreciation.

His mouth followed where his fingers led, lips pressing against the tender folds at her waist. He kissed each crease with surprising tenderness, his tongue tracing the subtle indentations. The unexpected attention to this overlooked part of her anatomy sent shivers across Devika's skin.

Vishnu grew bolder, sucking the delicate folds between his lips, creating gentle suction that pulled at her flesh. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin, careful nips that walked the line between pleasure and pain. Each bite drew a sharp intake of breath from Devika, her body responding to sensations she'd never experienced.

"These little folds," Vishnu whispered between kisses, "so soft, so perfect."

His tongue followed the natural creases where her hips met her waist, tasting the salt on her skin, exploring territory no man had bothered to worship before. The intimacy of his attention to these overlooked curves intensified Devika's arousal, her body humming with unexpected pleasure.

Unable to bear the sensory overload any longer, Devika reached down for Dattu, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him to his feet. His eyes met hers, dark with desire and something deeper—a reverence that made her heart constrict painfully in her chest.

Without warning, she claimed his mouth in a fierce kiss, her lips pressing hard against his. Gone was the hesitant teacher, replaced by a woman consumed with need. Her tongue pushed past his lips, exploring his mouth with newfound boldness as her hand found his erection again. She gripped him firmly, her slender fingers wrapping around his thickness as she began to stroke with purpose.

Dattu groaned into her mouth, his rough hands finding her waist, pulling her closer as she continued to kiss him deeply. Her hand moved faster, squeezing and releasing in a rhythm that made his knees weaken. She jerked him hard, her grip tightening with each upward stroke, never breaking their kiss.

Finally gasping for breath, Devika pulled away from Dattu's lips. She turned toward Vishnu who had risen to his feet behind her. His eyes widened as she captured his mouth with the same hungry intensity. Where Dattu's kiss had tasted of experience and desperate longing, Vishnu's held youthful eagerness, his lips softer, more pliant beneath hers.

Her hands moved with determined purpose to the front of his pants. Fingers that had once only held chalk and textbooks now worked quickly at the button of his jeans, popping it open with surprising dexterity. She lowered his zipper in one smooth motion, then pushed the fabric down his hips until his pants pooled around his ankles.

Devika stood between them now, her left hand still working Dattu's naked arousal while her right found Vishnu's hardness through his underwear. She stroked him through the thin cotton, feeling the heat and rigidity beneath her palm.

Vishnu understood her unspoken desire. Without hesitation, he pushed his underwear down, stepping out of both garments in one fluid motion. Now both men stood naked beside her, father and son baring themselves completely while she remained partially clothed in only her bra and petticoat.

Devika took their erections in each hand, her fingers wrapping around their lengths as she began rhythmic, synchronized movements. The contrast was striking—Dattu's thicker, weathered arousal in her left hand, Vishnu's smoother, slightly longer one in her right. Father and son, different yet similar, both responding to her touch with heavy breathing and barely contained moans.

Dattu leaned in from her left, his calloused hand cupping her cheek as he pulled her face toward him. Their lips met in another deep kiss, his tongue immediately seeking hers. Devika welcomed him, her mouth opening eagerly as she continued stroking both men without faltering.

While she kissed Dattu, Vishnu's hands found her right breast. Through the thin cotton of her bra, he squeezed the soft mound, fingers kneading with increasing pressure. He leaned down, his mouth finding the sensitive juncture where her neck met her shoulder. His teeth grazed her skin before his lips latched on, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

The dual sensations—Dattu's demanding kiss and Vishnu's attention to her breast and neck—combined with the feeling of both men throbbing in her hands, sent waves of pleasure washing through Devika's body. A moan escaped into Dattu's mouth as Vishnu bit down gently on her shoulder.

Vishnu grew impatient, pulling her head away from his father toward him. His kiss was more aggressive than before, teeth nipping at her lower lip as his tongue invaded her mouth. Devika responded with equal fervor, the taste of him different yet equally intoxicating.

Her hands never ceased their movements, continuing to pleasure both men as they pressed closer, their bodies now flush against her sides. The heat radiating from their naked forms enveloped her, creating a cocoon of masculine desire with her at the center.

"Devika mom," Vishnu murmured against her lips as they broke for air, "you are the sexiest woman I have seen. Here in Pune, all women are dirty and won't keep themselves clean. You Kerala women are hot, sexy, and clean."

Devika smiled against his mouth, her hands tightening around both men. "But you Pune men are dirty and pervert," she replied, her voice husky with desire.

Vishnu and Dattu laughed, the sound vibrating through their bodies against hers.

"Kerala women like dirty, low-class men like you," she continued, her eyes gleaming with mischief and arousal.

"And old men too?" Dattu asked, his breath hot against her ear.

"Yes," she whispered. "Old men too."

Dattu leaned forward, pressing his lips against her right cheek in a tender kiss that quickly grew more passionate. Simultaneously, Vishnu gripped her hips firmly and claimed her left cheek, his mouth hot against her skin.

Devika closed her eyes, surrendering to the sensation of both men kissing her face. Her grip tightened around their erections, her strokes becoming faster, more determined. Father and son didn't remove their lips from her cheeks, instead beginning to suck and devour her skin with increasing hunger.

Vishnu moaned against her slippery cheek, then did something unexpected—he spat gently on her skin and began licking the moisture, his tongue creating slick patterns across her flushed face. The taboo nature of the act, so intimate and primal, sent a shock of arousal straight to Devika's core.

Seeing this, Dattu followed suit, spitting softly on her other cheek before lapping at the mixture of saliva and sweat, his tongue rough against her sensitive skin. The sensation was unlike anything Devika had ever experienced—crude yet incredibly arousing.

"Yes," Devika moaned, her voice barely recognizable. "More dirty... I like this paan-mixed saliva."

The taste of tobacco and betel nut on Dattu's tongue should have repulsed her, but instead, it heightened her arousal—the forbidden, masculine flavor so different from Rajeevan's meticulously maintained cleanliness.

She turned sideways toward Dattu, pushing her tongue deep into his mouth and kissing him with abandoned passion, tasting the earthy, bitter flavor of paan on his tongue. After thoroughly exploring his mouth, she turned to Vishnu, who eagerly claimed her lips, his tongue dueling with hers.

Their combined saliva drenched her face, rivulets running down her cheeks and neck. The wetness glistened in the colored lights of the room, her face shining with their shared desire. This act of marking her, claiming her with their most intimate fluids, broke through the last of her inhibitions.

Between these two men—father and son united in their worship of her body—Devika had never felt more desired, more powerful, more alive. The proper Kerala biology teacher had vanished, replaced by a woman embracing the raw, primal pleasure of being wanted so completely.

[prady12191]

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

[prady12191]

Dattu sensed a shift in the atmosphere, a heightening of tension that signaled the moment was right. His weathered hand traced the curve of Devika's jaw, tilting her face upward to meet his gaze. Her eyes, hazy with desire, focused on him with effort.

"I want to feel your mouth," he murmured, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. "Like you did for my son in the college toilet."

Devika's eyes widened slightly, her lips parting in surprise. She glanced between father and son, their naked forms towering on either side of her partially clothed body. Her fingers still encircled their erections, the warmth and rigidity pulsing beneath her palms.

"I never..." she began, her voice trailing off as she considered the request. "I've never done this before. Sucking two men at the same time."

A faint blush colored her cheeks as she continued, "Your son was the first man I ever took in my mouth." The admission hung in the air between them, charged with forbidden intimacy.

Dattu's thumb traced her lower lip, pressing slightly against the soft flesh. "There's always a first time for everything," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. "Isn't that what you teach in Biology? Evolution? Adaptation?"

Vishnu's hand settled on her shoulder, fingers kneading the tense muscles at the base of her neck. "You loved it when you did it for me," he reminded her, his voice low and persuasive. "You moaned around me, remember?"

The memory of their encounter in the college toilet flashed vividly through Devika's mind—the cramped space, the illicit thrill, the way Vishnu had trembled under her touch. The recollection sent a fresh wave of heat between her thighs.

With deliberate slowness, Devika lowered herself before them, sinking to her knees on the cool tile floor. She remained in her petticoat, the white fabric pooling around her legs, while her bra cupped her breasts, the simple cotton somehow more enticing than the most elaborate lingerie.

From this new vantage point, she looked up at father and son standing side by side, their erections at eye level, still gripped firmly in her hands. They stared down at her with matching expressions of awe and hunger, two generations united in their desire.

Dattu and Vishnu exchanged a brief glance, a silent communication passing between them. Both smiled—not the predatory grin of conquest but something deeper, more reverential, as if witnessing something sacred.

Devika's position, kneeling before them with her cleavage clearly visible above the modest cotton bra, ignited something primal in both men. Their arousal visibly intensified, hardening further in her grip as a drop of moisture gathered at each tip.

She studied them with clinical curiosity, these male organs so different yet similar—Dattu's thicker, darker, bearing the weathered texture that matched his calloused hands; Vishnu's slightly longer, smoother, with the unmarked vigor of youth. Father and son, their most intimate parts entrusted to her hands.

Devika drew them closer, positioning both erections near her face. She closed her eyes briefly, inhaling their scent—musky, earthy, undeniably masculine. The smell that should have repelled her instead awakened something primitive within her, a feminine response to raw maleness.

"You both smell so different from my husband," she whispered, her breath warm against their sensitive skin. "So much more... real."

Without further hesitation, she leaned forward, her lips pressing a gentle kiss to Dattu's tip. She lingered there, allowing her mouth to soften and wrap around the head briefly before releasing him. The taste was unfamiliar yet not unpleasant—salty with a hint of bitterness.

"Aaaah," Dattu groaned, his weathered face contorting with pleasure. "Your lips... so soft... like pillows."

The simple praise sent an unexpected thrill through Devika. She turned her attention to Vishnu, repeating the same gentle kiss to his tip, her lips enveloping the head momentarily before pulling away.

"Oh god, Mom," Vishnu moaned, his hips involuntarily pushing forward. "Your mouth feels like heaven."

Devika smiled up at Dattu, a newfound confidence lighting her features. The power of reducing these men to quivering need with just her lips was intoxicating. She leaned toward him again, this time extending her tongue to lick delicately across his tip, tracing the small slit at the center.

Dattu's reaction was immediate and visceral—his entire body shuddered, a deep groan tearing from his throat as his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Fuck," he gasped, the crude word carrying more reverence than curse. "I'm already close... just from that."

His response fueled her boldness. Devika flattened her tongue and lashed it across his sensitive head, painting wet circles around the ridge before placing a series of feather-light kisses across the surface. Each touch of her lips drew another groan from Dattu's throat, his breathing growing increasingly ragged.

She then turned to Vishnu, repeating the same attentions—her tongue exploring his contours, her lips pressing gentle kisses to his most sensitive areas. Vishnu's reaction mirrored his father's, his body trembling under her ministrations.

"Your penises feel so different," Devika observed, her academic nature emerging even in this most intimate moment. "Dattu's is thicker, warmer. Vishnu's is smoother, slightly cooler to the touch."

Her clinical assessment, delivered in her teacher's voice while kneeling before them half-naked, heightened the erotic contrast of the situation.

"And which do you prefer, teacher?" Dattu asked, his voice strained with need.

Devika considered the question seriously, her hands continuing to stroke them both. "Each has its own appeal," she finally answered. "Like different musical instruments creating unique sounds but equally beautiful music."

With newfound boldness, she gathered saliva in her mouth, then deliberately let it drip onto Dattu's erection. The clear fluid coated his skin, glistening in the colored lights. Using her hand, she spread the moisture along his length, creating a slippery surface that allowed her fingers to glide more easily.

"Now you're ready," she murmured, her voice dropping to a husky whisper.

Without further preamble, she took him into her mouth properly, her lips stretching around his girth as she drew him deeper. The sensation of fullness, of being so completely connected to this man, sent a shock of arousal through her body. She began to move, her head bobbing in a steady rhythm as her hand continued working the base where her mouth couldn't reach.

From above, the sight was mesmerizing—Devika on her knees, her mouth filled with Dattu while her hand continued stroking Vishnu, her breasts jiggling slightly with each forward movement. The modest white bra, now damp with perspiration, clung to her curves, revealing more than it concealed.

"Look at her," Vishnu whispered to his father, his voice thick with awe. "Her breasts moving while she sucks you."

Dattu could only grunt in response, his ability for coherent speech temporarily suspended by the wet heat of Devika's mouth. His hand moved to her hair, fingers tangling in the dark strands, not guiding but simply maintaining contact, as if needing to anchor himself to reality.

Devika withdrew from Dattu with a wet sound, her lips glistening with saliva and his fluids. She turned her attention to Vishnu, gathering moisture in her mouth once more before allowing it to drip onto his erection. As she had done with Dattu, she spread the wetness along his length, preparing him for her mouth.

"I love the smell of both of you," she confessed, her voice barely audible as she inhaled deeply near Vishnu's arousal. "So masculine, so raw."

With practiced ease—the result of their previous encounters—she took Vishnu into her mouth, her technique already tailored to his preferences. Where Dattu required slow, deep attention, Vishnu responded better to faster, more focused movements on the sensitive head.

Both men moaned in unison as she alternated between them, spending a minute with Dattu before switching to Vishnu, then back again. Their bodies tensed and relaxed in a primal rhythm, following the lead of her mouth and hands.

The sounds they made—deep, guttural expressions of pleasure—filled the small apartment, creating a symphony of male satisfaction. Devika found herself responding to their vocalizations, each groan and gasp spurring her to greater efforts.

"I love hearing both of you," she admitted during a brief pause, her lips red and slightly swollen from her exertions. "Father and son moaning because of me."

She varied her technique with each transition, exploring different approaches to discover what pleased them most. For Dattu, she flattened her tongue and lashed it along the underside of his length, following the prominent vein from base to tip in long, wet strokes. The texture of her tongue against his sensitive skin drew gasps and muttered praises from the older man.

With Vishnu, she pursed her lips tightly, creating a firm ring that she moved just over the head and first inch, focusing intense sensation on the most responsive area. His reaction was immediate—his hips bucking involuntarily, seeking deeper entry that she deliberately denied.

"You're learning too quickly," Vishnu groaned, his voice strained. "Too good at this already."

The praise emboldened her further. Taking Dattu's erection in hand, she pressed it against her cheek, rubbing the moistened length against her skin in slow circles. The contrast of his rigid hardness against her soft cheek created an intensely intimate connection, more personal somehow than even having him in her mouth.

Dattu watched in fascination as she moved his manhood across her face, using it to trace patterns on her skin. "This is what men dream about," he confessed, his voice rough with emotion. "Using our... parts... to mark a beautiful woman's face."

Devika smiled up at him, understanding the primal nature of the act. She turned slightly, allowing him to tap his erection gently against her cheek, each light impact sending a jolt of arousal through both of them.

She then turned to Vishnu, kissing the length of his shaft before puckering her lips against his tip. The sensation of his smooth skin against her lips made her moan softly. Vishnu reached down, his fingers brushing her face with unexpected tenderness.

"Beat it on my lips," she whispered, surprising herself with the request.

Vishnu's eyes widened slightly before he complied, taking himself in hand and gently tapping his erection against her pursed lips. Each light impact transferred moisture from his tip to her mouth, creating a glistening connection between them.

The sight of Devika kneeling before them, willingly accepting such intimate attention from both father and son, was more than either man had dared hope for. They exchanged another glance over her head—not of triumph but of shared wonder, as if they couldn't quite believe the reality of the moment.

Devika pulled back slightly, observing their reactions with a mixture of scientific curiosity and feminine pride. Her lips shone with their combined fluids, her cheeks flushed with exertion and arousal. The proper Kerala professor had been replaced by a woman exploring the full range of her sexual power, discovering pleasure in acts she'd never imagined herself performing.

"Your precome tastes different too," she observed, her tongue darting out to collect a drop from Vishnu's tip. "Yours is slightly sweeter," she told him before turning to Dattu. "And yours has a stronger, more bitter flavor."

The clinical assessment, delivered while she knelt before them half-naked, her hands still working their erections with practiced ease, created an erotic dissonance that heightened the intimacy of the moment.

"I never knew I could enjoy this so much," she confessed, her voice soft with wonder. "Pleasing two men at once."

"You're a natural," Dattu assured her, his calloused hand cupping her cheek with surprising tenderness. "Made for this."

Vishnu nodded in agreement, his fingers tracing the curve of her shoulder. "No woman in Pune could compare," he added, his voice thick with emotion.

Devika smiled up at them, her professional dignity seemingly forgotten yet paradoxically enhanced by her newfound sexual confidence. In this moment, kneeling before father and son, she felt more completely herself than she had in years—desired, appreciated, and fully alive in her body.

She gripped them firmly, one in each hand, their hardness throbbing against her palms as she positioned them once more before her face. With deliberate slowness, she leaned forward, her mouth opening to welcome them both into a new dimension of shared pleasure.

[pro10]

Amazingly hot update. Was busy stroking dick whole day reading it. Thanks author. Please more of threesome by today. You made my weekend so hot. Thanks again.

[pro10]

After a long time a story made me hook so much. you are awesome.

[pro10]

Will there be no update today?
Please update.

[Thilka]

Explosive update give more update

[prady12191]

Devika glanced at her watch, suddenly aware of the late hour. It was already 9 PM—outside, darkness had settled over Pune, streetlights casting long shadows across the empty roads. The realization that she'd spent hours in this small apartment hit her with unexpected force.

"I should go," she murmured, though she made no move to stand from her kneeling position.

Dattu's weathered hand cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of her swollen lips. "It's late," he said, his voice gravelly with desire. "Roads are not safe for a woman alone."

Vishnu nodded in agreement, his eyes never leaving her face. "Stay, madam," he urged, his formality slipping back momentarily. "The buses have stopped running."

Devika considered her options—a costly auto-rickshaw ride through dark streets, returning to an empty apartment, or remaining here, enveloped in the warmth of their attention. The decision crystallized with surprising clarity.

"I can't go back home tonight," she acknowledged, rising slowly to her feet. Her knees ached pleasantly from the time spent kneeling on the hard floor.

Standing before them in just her bra and petticoat, she reached for Dattu, her hands cupping his face as she pulled him down into a deep kiss. Her tongue pushed past his lips, exploring his mouth with newfound confidence. The bitter taste of paan lingered on his tongue, strangely addictive now that she'd grown accustomed to it.

Dattu responded eagerly, his rough hands finding the drawstring of her petticoat. His fingers worked at the knot, attempting to loosen the last barrier between them.

Devika broke their kiss, placing her hands over his to still his movements. "Why the hurry?" she asked, her voice low and teasing. "We have all night." Her lips curved into a smile that held both innocence and promise. "Tonight, I am your wife, remember?"

Dattu's eyes darkened at her words, his breath catching audibly. "My wife," he repeated, the possession in his tone sending shivers down her spine.

Devika turned slightly, her gaze sweeping the small living area with its blinking colored lights and half-eaten cake. The intimate setting of the main room suddenly felt too exposed, too casual for what she had in mind.

"Take me to the bedroom," she whispered against Dattu's ear, her teeth grazing his earlobe gently. "Carry me there."

Dattu's eyebrows rose in surprise, but excitement quickly replaced confusion. She turned to Vishnu, who watched them with hungry eyes. "Bring some of that cake cream," she instructed, her voice taking on a commanding edge that surprised all three of them. "Follow us."

Without waiting for a response, she turned back to Dattu expectantly. His weathered face split into a grin of pure joy.

"It's my honor to carry a Kerala woman," he declared, his chest puffing with pride. Before she could prepare herself, he bent and swept her into his arms, then repositioned her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

Devika gasped as the world tilted, her upper body hanging down Dattu's back while her legs dangled over his chest. His calloused hand settled firmly on her buttocks, holding her secure against him. The strength in his grip surprised her—this man, older than her by at least fifteen years, handled her weight with ease, his body hardened by decades of manual labor.

"No one has ever carried me like this before," she admitted, a breathless laugh escaping her lips. The position was undignified, even slightly humiliating, yet she found herself enjoying the novel sensation of being transported like precious cargo.

Dattu's hand squeezed her buttock appreciatively through the thin cotton of her petticoat. "Your husband doesn't know what he's missing," he growled, the vibration of his voice traveling through her body where it pressed against his shoulder.

He carried her through the narrow hallway to the bedroom, Vishnu following behind with a small bowl of cake frosting. The room was dimly lit, with a single lamp casting long shadows across the double bed. Photos of Vishnu's mother had been discreetly turned face-down on the dresser, as if she might disapprove of what was about to transpire in her former domain.

Without ceremony, Dattu deposited Devika on the bed, the springs creaking beneath her sudden weight. Before she could reorient herself, he was upon her, his mouth claiming hers in a fierce kiss that stole her breath. His weight pressed her into the mattress, the coarse hair of his chest scratching pleasantly against her skin.

Breaking the kiss, Devika placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed gently. "Lie down," she commanded softly. "On your back."

Dattu complied immediately, stretching his naked form across the bed. The lamplight highlighted the contours of his body—not the sculpted perfection of a younger man, but the solid strength of one who had lived and worked hard. His arousal stood proudly against his stomach, evidence of his undiminished desire.

Devika turned to Vishnu, who stood watching at the foot of the bed, the bowl of cream in his hands. "You too," she instructed. "Beside your father."

Something flickered in Vishnu's eyes—hesitation, perhaps—but he quickly masked it. He placed the bowl on the nightstand and climbed onto the bed, positioning himself next to Dattu. Father and son lay side by side, their naked bodies a study in contrasts—age and youth, weathered and smooth, experience and vigor.

Devika knelt between them, still clad in her white cotton bra and petticoat. The modest garments, now rumpled from their earlier activities, somehow enhanced rather than diminished her allure. Her hair had come partly undone from its neat braid, dark strands framing her flushed face.

She surveyed the men before her, their erections standing at attention like soldiers awaiting inspection. The power of having these two males completely at her disposal sent a thrill of excitement through her core. Nothing in her sheltered Kerala upbringing, nor in her respectable teaching career, had prepared her for this moment of complete feminine control.

Leaning forward, she placed a soft kiss on Dattu's lips, then turned to offer the same to Vishnu. Their eager responses—Dattu's groan, Vishnu's sharp intake of breath—told her everything she needed to know about her effect on them.

She moved to straddle Dattu's chest, her petticoat riding up to reveal her thighs as she settled her weight on him. His hands immediately found her waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh with appreciative pressure. Devika bent forward, her hair falling around them like a dark curtain as she captured his mouth in a deep, lingering kiss.

Dattu responded hungrily, his tongue meeting hers with insistent pressure. She could feel the rapid beating of his heart beneath her, the warmth of his body seeping through her petticoat. The crisp hair of his chest tickled her inner thighs where the fabric had ridden up.

Breaking the kiss, Devika shifted off him, returning to her position kneeling between father and son. Their erections stood tall before her, rigid monuments to their desire. She looked from one to the other, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she noted their eager anticipation.

"So beautiful," she murmured, her gaze traveling the length of their bodies. "Both of you."

She leaned forward, hovering over Vishnu's arousal. Her eyes locked with his as she lowered her head, placing a gentle kiss on the tip. The contact was feather-light, barely there, yet Vishnu's reaction was immediate—his hips jerked upward, seeking more contact as a groan escaped his throat.

Devika pulled back slightly, her smile widening at his response. She turned to Dattu, offering the same teasing kiss to his tip. His weathered hands clenched into fists at his sides, knuckles whitening with the effort to remain still.

Both men licked their lips unconsciously, their gazes dropping to her cleavage visible above the edge of her bra. The simple cotton cups strained against her breasts, the fabric nearly transparent with perspiration.

Shifting her attention back to Vishnu, she placed her lips directly on his tip, forming a tight seal with her mouth. She squeezed gently, creating suction that pulled at his most sensitive flesh.

"Ah!" Vishnu grunted, his body arching off the bed. "God, that feels—" His words dissolved into incoherent sounds as Devika maintained the gentle pressure, her lips working against him with deliberate slowness.

After several moments, she released him, leaving his tip glistening with moisture. Vishnu collapsed back against the mattress, his chest heaving with rapid breaths.

Devika reached for the bowl on the nightstand, dipping her fingers into the sweet frosting. "I think I'll taste the cake now," she announced, her voice low and teasing. "But not directly."

"What do you mean?" Dattu asked, his eyes following her cream-covered fingers.

Vishnu caught on immediately, his eyes widening with anticipation. "Oh, you're going to—"

"Yes," Devika confirmed, her smile turning mischievous. "I'm going to taste it from you."

She held her cream-coated fingers over Dattu's erection, letting the white frosting drip onto his skin. The sugary substance landed on his tip, slowly trickling down his length in rivulets of sweetness. Using her hand, she spread the cream along his shaft, coating him completely from base to tip.

"My hands are so slippery on you now," she observed, her fingers gliding effortlessly along his frosting-covered length.

Dattu moaned at the sensation, his hips lifting slightly off the bed. The contrast of the white cream against his darker skin created a visual that was both absurd and intensely erotic.

Not neglecting Vishnu, Devika scooped more frosting from the bowl and applied it to his erection, her fingers dancing along his length as she ensured every inch was covered. The cool sweetness against his hot skin made Vishnu hiss through clenched teeth.

Once both men were thoroughly coated, Devika bent over Dattu, her tongue darting out to collect a small taste from his tip. "Mmm," she hummed, her eyes closing briefly in appreciation. "Even sweeter now."

Her gaze met his as she lowered her head again, this time taking him fully into her mouth. The combination of his natural flavor with the sugary frosting created an intoxicating mixture on her tongue. She sucked deeply, her cheeks hollowing as she worked to consume both him and the sweet coating.

"Oh god," Dattu groaned, his hands finding their way to her hair. "Your mouth is so hot against the cool cream."

Devika moaned around him, the vibrations of her voice adding another dimension to his pleasure. She withdrew slowly, her lips maintaining suction until she released him with an audible pop.

"I love doing this," she confessed, her voice thick with desire. "I never knew how much I would enjoy having a man in my mouth."

She turned to Vishnu, repeating the process—first a teasing lick to sample the frosting, then taking him deeply between her lips. Her other hand maintained contact with Dattu, stroking him steadily to ensure his arousal didn't wane.

Moving back and forth between them, Devika gradually removed all traces of the sweet topping, leaving their skin clean but slick with her saliva. Both men watched her ministrations with rapt attention, their breathing growing more ragged with each pass of her talented mouth.

"I never tried anything like this with my husband," she admitted during a brief pause, her lips shiny with moisture and sugar. "And I never will in the future." She looked at each of them in turn, her expression surprisingly earnest. "Thank you for showing such interest in me. With you both, I can explore everything I've been missing."

"You deserve to be worshipped," Dattu declared, his voice rough with emotion.

"You're the sexiest teacher in all of Pune," Vishnu added, his hand reaching out to stroke her arm reverently.

Emboldened by their praise, Devika reached for the bowl again. "Now for something more adventurous," she announced, dipping her fingers into the remaining cream.

This time, she applied the frosting to a more intimate area—coating Dattu's testicles with the sweet mixture, her fingers exploring the wrinkled skin with delicate precision.

"Ah!" Dattu cried out, his entire body tensing at her touch. "Your hands are so soft there."

She repeated the process with Vishnu, whose reaction mirrored his father's—a sharp intake of breath followed by a low moan as her gentle fingers massaged the frosting into his most sensitive areas.

Devika held Dattu's erection up and away, exposing his cream-covered testicles fully to her view. With deliberate slowness, she lowered her head, her tongue extending to collect the sweet coating from the delicate skin. The sensation of her warm tongue against this vulnerable area drew a strangled cry from Dattu's throat.

She worked methodically, licking and sucking until every trace of sweetness was gone, her mouth gentle yet thorough in its attention. When she had finished with him, she moved to Vishnu, offering the same devoted care to his body.

Her tongue ventured further, exploring the sensitive skin beneath his testicles, approaching territories never before touched by a woman's mouth. Vishnu gasped as he felt her tongue lashing delicately near his anus, the forbidden nature of her exploration heightening his pleasure to almost unbearable levels.

"No woman has ever touched me there," he admitted, his voice barely audible above their collective heavy breathing.

Devika raised her head, her eyes meeting his with unexpected tenderness. "Tonight is for new experiences," she reminded him, her hands still working both men with gentle persistence. "For all of us."

Father and son exchanged a glance of shared wonder at this Kerala woman who had entered their lives like a whirlwind, bringing pleasure beyond their wildest fantasies. Her willingness to explore and satisfy their desires while discovering her own had transformed what might have been a simple seduction into something far more profound.

As the night stretched before them, full of promise and further delights, Devika felt no regret for her decision to stay. Here, in this small bedroom with these two men—father and son united in their appreciation of her—she had found a freedom and acceptance she'd never known in her marriage. Tomorrow would bring consequences and complications, but tonight belonged to pleasure, to discovery, to the joy of being truly desired.

[pro10]

The slow teasing yet powerfull narrative of the story is so fulfilling and erotic.
Thanks for the update. Was waiting for this all day. Expecting more raunchy episodes now and eagerly waiting for threesome.

[Davit]

Notted