Me - Sunny, My Lactating Aunt and My Bisexual Mother - Read at your own Risk !

[Paty@123]

Update plz sir

[ashuezy2]

Auntie's Touch

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Scene 85

It was afternoon and the sun was streaming through the big windows of Mansi Aunty’s bungalow, making the white sofa glowing silver. I was sitting there, naked and breathing hard, feeling the leather against my back while the heat from the two women in front of me was making the air hot. We had just finished a very long and intense session, but Mansi Aunty didn’t look like she was done. Since her husband had been away in USA for months now, she was feeling like a desert that hadn't seen rain in years, and every touch I gave her only made her hunger grow bigger.

Mansi: "Ohhh, Sunny... I can't stop. My body is still vibrating from your fluids! So much waiting, and now I have the prince in my house!"

Mansi was kneeling on the floor, her thin nightgown pushed all the way up to her waist, showing her wet, pink pussy that was still dripping on the carpet. Her large, heavy breasts were swinging as she moved her hands over her own body. Unlike the God Mother, who took supplements to keep her milk flowing for the Project, Mansi Aunty was leaking naturally because she was so incredibly aroused by my presence. Big, thick drops of white milk were pearling on her dark nipples and falling onto her stomach.

God Mother was watching Mansi with sharp, dark eyes. I could see a little bit of jealousy on her face, even though she was the leader. She didn’t like how Mansi was looking at me, like she wanted to keep me for herself only.

God Mother: "Mansi, don't get too greedy. He is the heart of the Project, not your private toy." She shifted on the sofa adjusting her own massive breasts that were bursting with a heavy, sweet scent. "I have a dream, Mansi... a dream where a thousand boys like Sunny are raised in my Ashram, all drinking from me. But I can never have a baby of my own because of my position. I have to be everyone's mother."

Mansi: "And I... I dream of having a child with this energy... but I can't. My husband would know as he is not here. He is coming back in a few months, and I will have to pretend to be a 'proper' wife again."

Mansi Aunty started crying a little bit, but her hands were still moving. She leaned over and grabbed God Mother’s breasts that were hanging in front of her, and God Mother leaned down her face on Mansi’s. It was a crazy sight, the two teachers were now tasting each other’s breasts, their mouths busy with each other's nipples while I watched my penis get hard and straight again. God Mother was drinking Mansi’s natural, rich milk, and Mansi was swallowing the God Mother’s powerful, thick nectar.

God Mother: "Ahhh! Mansi, your milk is so fresh! Sunny, look at us! We are getting you ready for Round 2! You are going to fill us both up before we leave!"

I felt my penis pulsing as Mansi Aunty reached out and started stroking me with her wet hand while her mouth stayed on God Mother's nipple. The dual sensation of seeing them together and feeling Mansi's grip made my blood pulsing around my lower body. God Mother kept sucking Mansi's nipples hard, her mouth pulling with a fierce hunger that made Mansi's back arch. Mansi greedily enjoyed God Mother's nipples, something she had wanted for a long time, her moans getting louder with every gulp of the thick, white nectar.

I pushed my hard penis again inside Mansi's pussy, feeling the burning heat and the wet silk wrap around me. I started pushing as I was taught, moving with a rhythm that made the sofa creak. They were making a lot of noises, their voices a mix of screams and gasps as they told me to "push hardly". I finally gave in and released everything inside Mansi Aunty, the hot liquid pulsing out of me in a deep, shaking surge.

God Mother: "Mansi, I hope you are taking your pills, you might get pregnant."

Mansi: "I am not and now I want to get pregnant. My own baby. I want it badly."

God Mother: "But, what about your husband? What will you tell him?"

Mansi: "I don't want him anymore, I have you and Sunny. I want to live close to you, God Mother, over there in the retreat centre. God Mother, Please let me live with you. I have proven myself. Haven't I?"

God Mother: "You have proven your passion, Mansi. But the Project needs you in the world. However, if Rina joins the Inner Circle, perhaps there is space for you at the retreat to help with her 'training' properly."

Finally, the God Mother stood up and started fixing her saree.

God Mother: "That is enough for now. We need to have a quick lunch. Then, we must leave for the retreat centre immediately. Sunny is getting restless, and Rina is waiting."

Sunny: "Yes! Can we go now? I really want to see my mom's face. I miss her so much."

Mansi: "I will come with you. I want to see Rina too. We have more 'project work' to do together."

I pulled on my new silk trousers, while the two women shared a final, secret look. We were leaving for the retreat centre, and I knew that meeting my mom, Rina, was going to be the biggest learning of the summer.

[RajV]

Lovely Update

[ashuezy2]

Auntie's Touch

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Scene 86

It was evening now, and the light of the sun was dying as the Rolls Royce purred towards the retreat centre. I was sitting in the back, my body still feeling heavy and hot from the “lunch” we had at Mansi Aunty’s bungalow. I was wearing my silk trousers and a fresh shirt. God Mother sat next to me, her silk saree rustling every time the car hit a bump, her hand resting firmly on my thigh to remind me I was hers and hers alone.

Sunny: “God Mother, will we really see my mom soon? I can feel my heart jumping in my chest.”

God Mother: “Patience, beta. Rina is finishing her healing. She is becoming soft, like a ripe fruit waiting to be plucked. But before that, we have work to do.”

As we reached the gates, I gasped. There were hundreds of people lined up along the driveway, families gathered in the flickering twilight, holding flowers and looking at the car like we were bringing healing to them. They were all waiting for the “Darshan,” for a taste of the Prasad. The driver didn’t stop; we went through the back gate, the VIP entry where the security guards bowed so low their heads almost touched the gravel. We took the lift up to the top floor, the silence of the machine making the tension between the three of us feel like a barrier. When the doors opened, God Mother led me toward a small, private changing room, leaving Mansi Aunty standing in the hallway.

I could see Mansi Aunty’s face before the door closed. She looked desperate, her energy shifting from the teacher I knew to a woman who wanted to be a mother more than she wanted to breathe. She was leaning against the wall, her hands clutching her own chest as if she could feel her natural milk leaking out into her silk saree.

Inside the room, it was cool and smelled like roses. God Mother walked straight to the large mirror, her eyes sharp as she looked at her reflection.

God Mother: “Sunny, beta. I must be perfect before I meet my subjects. But I also need my comforts.”

Without taking her eyes off me in the mirror, she unpinned her saree, letting the silk slide down her body and pool on the carpet like a silver cloud. Then she unfastened her blouse, one button at a time, her large, massive breasts popping out, heavy and already weeping. She reached out and grabbed her own breasts, her hands kneading the soft, white flesh, her dark nipples standing up stiff and swollen.

God Mother: “Oh, Sunny. Just a small taste before I meet families to help them. I need your energy to fill me up.”

She leaned down toward me, her face hovering inches from mine, her breath smelling of raw hunger. I didn’t wait; I took out my tongue and started suckling, my mouth closing around the dark circle of her nipple. The milk was thick, hot, and sweet, rushing down my throat in big, greedy gulps. She was leaking so much it was staining my silk shirt, but she didn’t care.

God Mother: “Now the other one as well, beta. Take it full in your mouth.”

I moved my mouth to the other big breast, my hands wrapping around her waist as I hugged her. She was giving me so much love, her heart thumping against my cheek like a drum. I could feel her body shivering as I drank her powerful, thick nectar. This was the first time I had been with her alone right before she went into public, and the secret felt heavier than ever.

God Mother: “Now the final prasad.”

She pulled my head away, her lips finding mine in a long, deep kiss that tasted like wet and warm. She bit my lower lip as she pulled back, a tiny drop of blood meeting the milk on my chin. Then, she quickly began wearing her new clothes, applying her makeup with practised grace until she looked like a saint again. She took my hand and we went outside to the main hall, where the big throne sat behind heavy golden curtains.

The first family to enter was the Singhs. They were four of them: Mr. Singh, who was about 38 and looked very wealthy in his sharp suit, Mrs. Singh, who was around 36 and beautiful with a round face, and their two daughters, who looked simple and innocent. They looked desperate, the kind of people who have everything but feel like they have nothing. Mr. Singh stepped forward and placed a cheque for 10 lakh rupees on the table, his hands shaking.

Mr. Singh: “Mother, we are here for a blessing. I want a third child… a son to carry my name. But Rupa… she says her body is too tired.”

The curtains closed, sealing the world away and making the room dim and private. God Mother didn’t speak with words at first. She looked at each of the four members, her gaze lingering on the daughters, who were shivering in the heavy silence.

The Prasad offering began with an uninhibited ferocity. God Mother didn’t just bless them; she claimed them. She pulled the daughters toward her first, their eyes wide with a mix of shock and devotion as her lips met theirs, her tongue moving deep into their mouths. They tried to move their heads away at first, their bodies stiff because this was something they were not used to, but God Mother held them by the hair, her touch firm and absolute.

Mrs. Singh watched with a pale face, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she stepped closer, her voice a shaky surrender.

Mrs. Singh: “Complete the prasad. We need the blessing. Do not move.”

Following the mother’s command, the two daughters were guided into God Mother’s lap. I watched as God Mother unfastened her silk blouse again, her enormous breasts spilling out into the girls’ faces. She fed them both, one on each nipple, their mouths forced to accept the rich, creamy nectar of her body. Mr. Singh was sitting on the floor, his face red, his breath coming in jagged gasps as he watched his family being taken over by the source of all love.

Then, God Mother looked at Mrs. Singh, her eyes glowing like embers.

God Mother: “Rupa, the sadness in your womb is because your heart is blocked. You need a cure. You need to let Sunny, standing over there, take the sadness away from you. It will only take two minutes. Everyone, close your eyes.”

The hall went silent as everyone obeyed. I walked forward, my heart thumping against my silk shirt. God Mother reached out and began unbuttoning Mrs. Singh’s blouse, one by one while she was feeding both her daughters - their eyes closed, until the fabric fell away. Mrs. Singh was wearing a brown bra that looked tight against her full, round breasts. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and a low, shaky sigh escaped her lips.

God Mother pushed the brown bra up, exposing the heavy, white skin and the dark, stiff nipples. She looked at me and nodded. We both moved in at once, our wet tongues touching her skin at the same time. For two minutes, we suckled together, God Mother on one nipple and me on the other, our mouths making loud, wet slurping noises in the quiet hall.

Mrs. Singh started making noises, her breathing becoming faster and more ragged. After a few seconds, she wasn’t shivering anymore; she was enjoying it. She reached out and put her hand on my head, her fingers tangling in my hair to pull me closer, pushing her breast deeper into my mouth. I could feel the heat radiating from her body, a fever of desire that was finally being released.

When the time was up, the lady of the house covered herself, her face flushed and her eyes hazy with peace. She bowed low before the throne, her voice a whisper of total devotion. The daughters stood up from God Mother's breasts wiping their lips. God Mother covered her chest.

Mrs. Singh: “Thank you, Mother. The weight is gone. I want a private service. When can I come back?”

God Mother: “Tomorrow at 8 PM. And don’t forget to bring your entire family. The healing is just beginning.”

Mrs. Singh looked at me and gave me a long, deep kiss on my lips, her mouth still tasting warm, before the family left the curtains. The curtains opened, and the sounds of the next family waiting flooded in.

Mansi Aunty was still standing outside the curtain, her eyes fixed on us with a frantic, desperate look. I could see the sweat on her forehead. She didn’t want the bungalow anymore; she wanted the heat of the Project, the chance to have my seed inside her until she was bursting. She was watching the curtains, waiting for her next turn to be “the teacher” in this temple of uninhibited love.

[Ayush01111]

I asked sunny current age

[ashuezy2]

I asked sunny current age

This is something even I don't know as I am just writing in past tense.

[ashuezy2]

Auntie's Touch

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Scene 87

It was evening, hundreds of people waiting outside. After the Singh family left, my body was still buzzing, my skin feeling sensitive under my silk trousers. We were still in the hallway when the second family of the night was in, the Guptas. They looked rich but broken. Mrs. Gupta was about 30, with a very soft, pretty face and a heavy body that looked like it was made for motherhood, but her eyes were red from years of crying. Their problem was simple and painful: Mrs. Gupta had not been able to get pregnant even after five years of marriage.

God Mother sat back on her throne, her silk saree clinging to her curves. She looked at them with that sharp, predator like gaze that felt like it was peeling away their clothes.

God Mother: “Five years is a long time to stay empty, Mrs. Gupta. Tell me the truth, Does your husband have a fertility issue, or can he simply not get it up?”

Mrs. Gupta looked down at her hands, her voice a small, shaky whisper.

Mrs. Gupta: “He… he is unable to get it up, Mother. We have tried everything, but he is always like a cold stone.”

Mr. Gupta was standing in the corner, a thin man with nervous eyes who wouldn’t look at anyone. He didn’t say anything, just stared at the marble floor.

God Mother: “I have a solution. But first, I must know what is wrong.” She looked at Mr. Gupta, her eyes narrowing. “Mr. Gupta, tell me, are you interested in women at all?”

Mr. Gupta: “Yes… of course, Mother.”

But looking at his face, I could tell God Mother had her doubts. She didn’t believe him for a second. In order to test her theory, she signalled for the heavy golden curtains to come down, sealing us into a dark, hot world of silk and secrets. She stood up and walked toward him, her powerful form visible under the thin silk of her saree. She put her hands on Mr. Gupta’s penis, her fingers kneading the fabric of his trousers. Then, she gave him her “Prasad,” her mouth closing around his lips in a long, deep kiss while her hand worked him relentlessly. She kept going for two minutes, the wet sounds of her mouth and the frantic rhythm of her hand filling the silence, but he didn’t even get an erection. He stayed soft, his body shivering with fear rather than desire.

God Mother pulled back, her lips wet, her eyes flashing with a cold, divine anger. She asked him again, her voice a low vibration that made the floor tiles tremble.

Mr. Gupta: “I… I am sorry, Mother. I am not interested in women… I have different tastes. I have tried to be ‘proper,’ but my heart is elsewhere.”

Mrs. Gupta began crying loudly, her hands over her face. She begged for help, saying her life was a waste. God Mother invited her to stay in the Ashram and leave the Gupta family behind, telling her that her that she didn’t deserve to be alone. Listening to this, she got incredibly emotional, her whole body shaking with relief. God Mother then called Mansi from outside and told her to take Mrs. Gupta and wait outside the curtains.

God Mother: “Mansi, we will take this child to Parking Level B3. A new lot is waiting there. For now wait outside.”

So far, only Pallavi had access to the B3 parking, but now Mansi had been upgraded, her eyes shining with the pride of being part of the inner circle.

Mr. Gupta was still standing there, looking down at the floor, his face pale. Mrs. Gupta had left, but God Mother was still a little angry.

God Mother: “You lied to me, Mr. Gupta. You wasted my time with your impotency.”

Mr. Gupta: “I am sorry, Mother. But it was really hard for me to tell anyone. Society won’t accept me… what would I tell my family?”

He seemed lost, a man without a place. God Mother provided him with a solution, she told him he would be moved to the “Men’s Wing” of the Project, where his “different tastes” would be used to heal other men who were lost in the same lies. He would no longer be a husband, but a “Brother of the Inner Circle”. She gave Mr. Gupta a phone number and he left.

For the next few hours, it was a blur of devotion. God Mother saw a few more families, her “Prasad” flowing like a river, her hands and mouth working to break the blockages in their souls. She was tireless, her body radiating a heat that made the whole hall feel like an oven.

But the crowd outside was getting bigger. I could hear them through the walls, hundreds of people chanting slogans, their voices rising in a rhythmic roar that sounded like a storm. It was too much to handle one by one. Mrs. Gupta had been waiting too, it was 7 PM and getting late for the B3 Parking session. God Mother finally stood up, her red saree dishevelled, and she stepped out of the curtains. She held a microphone, her voice booming through the speakers and over the heads of the waiting masses.

God Mother: “My children! You crave love, but you are afraid of the truth! You hide your hunger behind the walls of your houses! Today, I command you to open your hearts! Accept these flowers from the baskets, they have been blessed with my energy. Let them take your sadness away until we meet again!”

Then, right there in front of the cheering, gasping crowd, she did something completely uninhibited. She reached for me and pulled me close, her hands quickly unbuttoning her blouse in the middle of her speech. She let her enormous breasts spill out, the dark nipples weeping with the heavy, sweet milk of the Project. In front of hundreds of people, she guided my head to her breast and let me suckle, showing the world that she was indeed everyone’s mother. The crowd went silent, then erupted into a roar of “Mother! Mother!” as they saw the raw, physical truth of her love.

Mansi was standing outside the curtain with Mrs. Gupta, her face flushed with a new, frantic desire. Now God Mother and I were walking toward them, the golden light of the hallway making us look like divine beings. We entered the lift, and God Mother pressed the button for B3.

God Mother: “Time to open your mind and see love as it is, Mrs. Gupta. The basement is where the truth is finally born.”

As the lift descended, I felt the waves coiling in my belly. We were heading into the dark, but I knew that for Mrs. Gupta and for us, the light was just about to be turned on.

[RajV]

WOW
Its fantastic

Somewhere you may use this scene

[Saj890]

Very good

[123@abc]

WOW
Its fantastic

Somewhere you may use this scene

Perfect papa ki pari

[123@abc]

After feeding sunny from her enormous boobs before going to the crowd god mother takes her persad by kissing sunny hard and took two drops of his red nectar