Adultery Indian Mom's Debauchery - Re-written

[shivkajan]

Indian Mom's Debauchery - (Re-written)

This a re-write of famous story "Indian Mom's Debauchery". 
I tried to contact the Author JHALLO, however he has given consents to continue the story in the comments.  

All credits to JHALLO. 


Chapter 1

This incident happened 3 years ago and still seared in my memory. It was 2023 and I just graduated from high college and may be around 19 years of age. It was that age when you are just out of college and into the relative freedom of minimum wage job; the age of discovery so to speak. Girls, pizza, hanging out with friends and the like.

We lived in the suburbs of Toronto in an upmarket neighbourhood. I was the only child of my parents. My dad is a financial advisor in one of the big 5 banks in Canada. We migrated to Toronto from Chennai, India just before COVID expecting greener pastures especially for me. After gruelling for nearly 2 years my dad found a well-paying job thanks to his MBA mate Allan. And thanks to the commissions and other perks mom never had to work since last year and stayed home as a house wife. I passed high college in flying colors however the Colleges here are way expensive specially for an immigrant family like us. Hence I was planning to work part time to save money for college.
Mom was a typical housewife. She got married to my dad at the age of 22 while she was still in college and became a mother even before reaching her 23rd birthday. By the way, her birthday was on 31st December, always a reason to celebrate.

She had completed her graduation after marriage but never really worked and after I was born, dedicated herself to my upbringing and other household chores. Our lives in India were quite comfortable I'd say, I went to a top private college and we had quite a few European vacations during my college holidays. So we were used to affluence. That's why mom never needed to work and she could indulge in looking after herself and leading a lavish lifestyle in high society. Money had never been an issue.

Now that I look back, let me describe my mom. She was petite at 5'4". She had bright mocha skin and of average built. When I say average built, I have to say that giving birth to a child had not really changed her physical constitution. Maybe, just maybe, she was a tad thick around the waist area and probably around the booty that actually added allure to her mature sexiness. But no way she could be called fat that most middle aged Indian women tend to develop. In fact she had near perfect round ass almost the shape of an "O" when looked from behind. Her admirers would call them bubble butt. She was also not voluptuous but had maintained her body well, genetic or the result of doing daily yoga and regular visits to the parlours. But the one thing that set her apart from the other women of her age, was her face. She had perfect oval face with sharp nose and sparkling eyes that do not look her age. Her shoulder length hair complements her face nicely. Also, she dressed conservatively in sarees as majority of housewives do in India, to avoid the roving eyes of lecherous men and hormone charged teenagers. In short, she looked a beautiful saree clad Indian lady in her mid-late thirties. The sort of women mature men would go for.

One thing I believe is that every woman when naked looks the same, I mean not that somebody has 3 boobs or two pussies. But the one thing that attracts males is the personality or should I say the seductiveness of a woman. That is the one thing that charges up a man to take that woman and make love to her. And my mom had that in abundance.
But, let me be upfront, I was like any other guy of that age. The age of discovery. That turbulent time of youth when your hormones are pumping and you have no clue what was happening. The age when I could recognise the sexual tension between men and women.

I have seen men, both in India and in the West gazes upon her in awe. Indian men more with lust and the western men more with admiration. I have seen dad's friends or colleagues tried to flirt with her, and she, being a lady in her prime quite enjoyed all the attentions. But she never reciprocated or gave them slightest of hint that she would be available.
A few months after mom and I arrived in Toronto, my dad's company threw a summer party to celebrate a successful takeover of another small company. Employees were encouraged to bring their family too. Being an adult son, I was not supposed to tag along with my parents but since I was still living with them, both mom and dad insisted that I should come with them. Besides, it would be a nice way to meet new people in a new country.
It was a Friday afternoon in mid-July, and we were getting ready to go. It was quite a warm day with temperature around mid-eighties Fahrenheit. As it was a casual summer party, there were no dress code. So, we decided on casual summer wears. Dad and I put on jeans and polo shirt and mom was preparing to wear a floral summer dress. That's when dad said that she should perhaps try a saree as she always looked best in them. Mom changed into a chiffon saree and a sleeveless blouse which had a deep cut.

Now, Indian readers know that when worn properly, an Indian woman can look her sexiest best in a saree. And mom did exactly that. She dbangd the blue chiffon saree in such a way that it hugs her figure, accentuating every curve along the way. One could see her deep navel as the saree was tied well below her belly button. The white sleeveless blouse was struggling to hide her 36D assets. She decided to wear a strapless bra underneath as the flimsy material of her blouse might not be ideal for a strapped bra. When she was done, she asked dad how she looked to which dad looked mesmerised. His jaws dropped a bit before he steadied himself and said "you look ravishing". Now being in Canada, I think mom got a bit relaxed about dressing because unlike in India, here there was no judgement from the relatives and no prying eyes from the onlookers. She indeed liked to dress up and spend money on expensive clothing and jewelleries. She usually wore gold bangles in both hands and golden anklets on her feet even at home. Compliment this with her Thaali, her diamond wedding ring on her left ring finger, a tiny diamond studded nose pin on her left nose and a pinch of sindur/kumkum on the parting of her hair, I must say dad was right. She looked ravishing. She applied only light touch of make up due to the heat - eyeliner, a touch of mascara and some lip gloss. Her shoulder length silky hair tied in usual ponytail and she put on her favourite stiletto heels. With the heels on she was looking 2 inches taller. Although I never had any incestual feeling towards her but looking at her that day I genuinely thought she was one hell of a sexy mom and lot of men going to have raging hard on that night just by looking at her like that.

My emotions at that moment were quite mixed. In a way I was feeling proud for my beautiful mom, but the other part of me was slightly jealous. There would be a lot of men in the party who'd eye this exotic beauty and one or two might even try their luck to flirt with her. Now mom was quite used to handling this type of attentions, but I was not sure for how long she could fend them off. This was completely unknown territory to her and there would be men who could sweep her off her feet. Don't get me wrong here, she had been fiercely loyal to my dad all these years, but with the benefit of hindsight, I could see there were tell-tale signs that she was getting sexually frustrated as she was approaching the end of her sexual prime and might get swept away if not careful enough. Nevertheless one thing was for sure that she was going to be the cynosure of the party.
We arrived at the party around 6 in the evening. The cab left us near the entrance to the dock which led us to the party yacht where the event was arranged on Toronto Harbour. Upon boarding, we were greeted by the host with welcome drinks. We moved to the main deck. There were already quite a few guests hanging around and more people started arriving soon after. A few of them came with their young children but I didn't see anyone of my age. Even the younger employees were perhaps 10 years older than me.

As more and more guests started arriving, the music got louder and the two bars either side of the deck got busier. Dad just saw someone he knew, he gave him a smile and started walking towards him.
Mom and I stood at one corner not knowing what to do. This was the first time we were at a party in this country, so not quite sure what to expect amidst a bunch of unfamiliar faces. Although I could see that people, both men and women were glancing at us occasionally. The men perhaps were holding their gazes a bit longer on my mom. I even saw couple of younger looking guys walked past us towards their way to the bar. They were talking to each other, but suddenly fell silent when their eyes fell on mom and then on me. Couple of seconds and they chuckled and made some comments between them. I was sure it was about mom. They looked over their shoulder while passing us and their eyes were all over mom sizing her up.
Although my mom was quite confident in this kind of situation, but I felt she was looking a tad nervous. This was understandable as we were in a new territory in a new country, literally among a bunch of strangers. We were the only brown people there; majority of the guests were white with some black people among them.
As the crowd started building up, there was an announcement. The company hired a stand up performer for this event and he was going to start his act. Everybody's focus moved toward the centre of the deck while the comedian started his routine.

There were few good jokes that made the crowd burst into laughter. That also made mom started getting relaxed a bit. Meanwhile dad came back and joined us with a bottle of beer in hand. He was about to ask mom and me something, perhaps if we'd like to drink and that's when I heard the booming voice "Hey, Mr. Iyer".
I saw a tall, blonde, white guy approaching us. He must be well above 6 feet probably by 2 or 3 inches. He had well defined physique, kind of body we used to see in Hollywood movies. Not a beefy body rather an athletic one. Tattoos on both arm poking out of his short sleeve Hawaiian shirt. The shirt somewhat clung to his body and I could see the silhouette of his washboard abs. He was wearing a linen pants and a pair of canvas slip on. What was most impressive was that he had a warm almost childlike smile on his face. He must be around my mom's age, may be even couple of years younger.
"Hey, Mr. Iyer." He said approaching us "How are you man? When did ya come?"
I guess dad got a bit startled hearing his voice all of a sudden, but immediately composed himself and then turned around to greet him.

"Hey Mr. Mcleod, finally you're here. Nice to see you". He extended his hand to which the guy also extended his and shook firmly. I could see the stark difference in size in both their hands. His palm almost gobbled up dad's. His upper arm was easily twice the size of dad's. My dad was 5''7", had grown a pot belly over the years. As a result, he looked even shorter. It looked like he was towering over my dad.
"Nice to see you man. And this must be your family" he said looking at mom and me.
"Yes" dad replied. "Let me introduce. This is my wife Amrutha and my son Siddharth. And this is Mr. Allan Mcleod, my boss and the VP of our company."
Mr. McLeod looked at my mom and immediately I could sense a spark jolted between them. The kind of sensation you can only feel but can't put in words. Their eyes met and both got transfixed for couple of seconds. As if someone cast a spell on them, they looked at each other's eyes for those 2 seconds oblivious of the surroundings. Then the spell broke and both came to their senses. In those few seconds I saw something in Allan's eye that years later when I think about those moment, I saw unbridled lust in his eyes. In that split second I had no doubt that this guy, Allan wanted to get between mom's legs. He wanted to fuck her. And a part of me was curious to see that happen. But that momentary feelings evaporated as soon as it surfaced.

I guessed mom was bit nervous in that situation and put her guards on. It could be the sexual tension rising and she could sense that too.
Mom said a meek "Hello Mr. McLeod" in her Indian accent.
"Call me Allan" He quickly came back to senses.
Mom said "hello Allan" with a shy smile.
"Hello, I'm Siddharth" I said clearing my throat. Everybody calls me Sid.
Allan turned to me and said "hello". But his mind was elsewhere.
"You're a lucky man, Sridhar. You have such a gorgeous wife." Allan made his observation clear.
Both dad and Allan burst into laughter. Mom joined them with a shy smile. I didn't know how to react, but I did admire his guts. That man had shown chivalry.

Mom, dad and Allan had few small talks before some more guests arrived at the deck that caught Allan's eye.
"Excuse me, but I have to attend the guests. You guys make yourselves comfortable. I'll speak to you later." The last sentence he specifically said looking at mom before he walked off.
"Nice gentleman" Dad said. Mom and I agreed.
"It's quite impressive to become a VP of a big company at this young age. He must be very smart." Mom said.
We all agreed.
A minute later dad went back to join a group of his colleague. Mom and I again stood there watching people for about 10 minutes.
"Hey guys, how are you doing?" I heard Allan coming our way.
"Are you getting bored?" He asked. Then added "Allow me to get you a drink, madam."
"It's alright." Mom said.
"Oh, come on. Don't be shy." Allan persisted.
Mom smiled and nodded.

Mom was a social drinker. She mostly liked to drink wine, beer or cocktails. She was a connoisseur of expensive wines and cocktails.
"What do you want to drink?" Allan asked.
"Ummm.. I don't know. A glass of white wine may be." Mom was still not fully out of her shells.
"And you Sid.. Sid..,?" He struggled to remember my name.
"Siddharth, sir" I replied. "But everybody calls me Sid."
"Yes. Sid. What would you like?"
I was not legally allowed to have alcoholic drink.
"Any soft drink." I was not really bothered.
"Would you like to come with me?" Allan turned to mom and gestured towards the bar.
Now mom got in a spot. She didn't expect this and neither did I. She didn't want to leave me and go with Allan but turning him down would be rude.
She looked at me first then hesitantly accepted his invitation.

They walked off towards the bar leaving me behind. After a couple of steps, I saw Allan put his palm lightly on mom's back and guided her through the crowd.
That was interesting. Allan met mom barely half an hour ago and now he was touching her back. I never saw a man got so close to mom that soon. He definitely had balls.
They walked up to the bar, placed order, and waited for their drink. There were quite a big crowd at the bar so I assumed it would take a while to get served.
I watched them started chatting while waiting for the drinks. Mom's body language gradually eased up, she was smiling, talking and making frequent eye contact with Allan. She was also making hand gestures while talking. She didn't look out of place anymore.
After about 10 mins their drinks were served. Mom had a flute of champagne while Allan had a beer glass in one hand and a glass of fizzy drink in other.
They walked down to where I was. Allan handed over the fizzy drink to me. We raised a toast and took a sip from respective glasses.

"So Sid, what do you study?" He asked me.
"Doing BS with a major in economics." I replied.
We kept on chatting about my college and other stuffs for a while until I heard someone called out Allan.
The three of us looked at the direction of the voice and saw a middle-aged gentleman, smiling and waving at Allan.
"You have to excuse me. That is Michael from our Arizona office. You guys please enjoy the party." Saying that Allan walked off towards Michael.
From the corner of my eye, I saw mom was looking at Allan as he walked away.
It was almost 7:30 pm. The sun was behind the horizon. The sky was getting darker and the air a bit chillier.
A member of the host came out from the lower deck and announced that the dinner was served.
The guests on the upper deck started moving slowly to the lower deck. Dad came and joined us and three of us moved to the lower deck.
Buffet was ready. There were round tables with chairs around. We took our food and sat on one table along with some other guests. Dad was speaking to one of them earlier.

The dinner was followed by reward and recognition for the employees. And there was a pleasant surprise.
Dad's name was announced as he got promoted to Executive Director. Because of the merger, he now had the added responsibility to supervise a team at their Arizona office. That meant he had to travel to the Phoenix office frequently, at least once a month.
Diners at the tables started congratulating dad. Mom and I felt proud seeing that.
Allan showed up at our table and congratulate dad. He then turned to mom and said
"Sorry Amrutha. Sridhar is going to be a lot busier from now. I hope that won't make you resentful."
Everyone at the table had a laugh.
After the dinner the tables and chairs were cleared, and the space turned into a dance floor. Normal lights were put off and the strobes were on. The place got darker as in real discos. There was a DJ on the podium. He started with a peppy number. Slowly people started shaking their legs. Initially only few people but gradually more and more would join them.
Mom, dad and I were standing at a corner looking at them. A group of slightly senior looking guys almost dragged dad away to join them in a drink. Perhaps, dad now belonged to their club after the promotion. They went up to the upper deck.

Mom and I were contemplating whether to join in dance, suddenly Allan appeared from the crowd.
He was holding 2 glasses of red wine.
"I saw you are not drinking. Here is one for you. Hope you like red wine." Allan handed one glass over to mom.
Mom took that without hesitation and said "Yes, I do." She took a big sip from the glass and immediately belched out by the sudden rush of alcohol into her system.
All 3 of us cracked into laughter.
A moment or so later, Allan looked mom in the eye, reached his hand out and asked mom "Let's dance" and gestured to the dance floor.
Mom was a bit taken aback by his assertiveness. Neither she nor I was expecting this. She looked at me not knowing what to do, then decided to comply. She asked me to hold her drink and put her left hand on Allan's outreached hand. Allan gently pull her to the dance floor.
Allan was a decent dancer, but mom was bit shy at first. Allan tried to hold her hand and twirl but she started giggling which made Allan giggle too. One thing was clear, she was enjoying his company.
They broke away from the dance floor and came to me. I gave mom her drink back. She took couple of sips probably to calm her nerves a bit.

Then when Allan asked "let's try again", she had no hesitation to join him. She handed me the near empty glass and went away with him.
This time they both danced better. Initially they were freewheeling but gradually found a rhythm. Often they were holding hands and danced. Mom tucked her pallu/mundhaanai in the waist fold of her saree. Her bare midriff, back, cleavage, belly button were clearly visible. The Thaali was dangling between her boobs. She was visibly a bit tipsy from all the drinking since evening.
The music reached a crescendo and the melodic numbers came out. I saw Allan wrapped his arms around mom's waist and pulled her closer. She also wrapped her arms around his neck. Their bodies pressed against each other's. They grooved with the music slowly. The contrast in their height was palpable. My petite brown mom was grooving in the arms of a tall white man. He slowly rested his palms on her shapely butt and she rested her head on his chest. She looked a little tired now.
After a while he whispered something in her ear, and they disengaged. Allan held her hand and pulled her to the other end of the dance floor. They disappeared in the crowd.

Alarm bell rang in my head. Where did they go? What were they doing? What if Allan tried to take advantage of my slightly drunk mom? Lots of questions gathered around my head. I decided to look out for them.
I went around the deck to the other side. I was trying to look out for them without making it obvious. But they were nowhere to be seen. I went ahead a bit further and that's when I saw them sitting on a sofa at a corner by the bar. The place was quite dark. They were both holding wine glasses and facing each other. They were sitting quite close and talking almost to each other's face. The decibel level was quite high so I could not hear a word from distance. But I made sure that they could not see me.
I saw mom laughing almost at every word he spoke. Allan was trying to be very attentive. Perhaps he was having trouble to understand her Indian accent in the loud music. He held her hand and pulled her even closer. She didn't resist. Mom was continuously blabbering I didn't know what. Perhaps it was the effect of alcohol. She was completely out of her shell by then.

I saw Allan pointing to her Thaali and then to the Kumkum. She smiled and started talking again, probably explaining what they were. Then she slightly thrust her chest forward to what I assumed, allow Allan to touch the thaali if he wanted to feel it. Allan duly obliged. He took the thaali between his fingers and in the process brushed my mom's melons with his fingers. Even in the darkness I could see the contrast between his white fingers and her brownish melon. I was sure mom was not in the sense to comprehend that. He then proceeded further up along the necklace and lightly brushed her collar bone and neck along the way. He then flicked her hair. I didn't see any adverse reaction from mom which suggested she was either oblivious of what was going on or she was enjoying this play secretly.
Just when Allan was about to touch her face the light came on. It was 5 minutes to 10, that was the end of the party. The DJ played the last music to close the party.
Both Allan and mom came to their senses and got up from the sofa. The guests were saying good night to each other and started leaving. I emerged from the back and approached mom.

"It's time to go home, mom." I said.
"Let me get you a cab. Where is Sridhar?" Allan asked.
"I think dad is upstairs". I replied.
Allan, mom and I walked up to the upper deck where we found dad. He was completely drunk and was cracking jokes with some younger looking colleagues.
We told dad that the party was over and we need to go home. He was completely unaware of the time and place and was having a gala time. He couldn't even stand straight.
Allan helped dad to get off the boat and called a cab which was waiting in the taxi rank nearby.
Allan and I helped dad into the cab. Before mom went in, Allan gave her a friendly hug and said good night. Maybe his hands lingered a tad longer on her ass than usual.
We arrived home around 11. By that time dad was completely hammered and I had to help him from the cab to bed.

Mom was bit drunk too but at least had her bearings right. She changed into her night dress before going off to bed.

[shivkajan]

Chapter 2

It was a warm summer day about 2 weeks after the party. Dad was out on one of his tours to the Arizona office.

It was the holidays and mom was also at home.

I was watching baseball on TV when the phone rang.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"Siddharth? It's me Allan"

"Oh, Allan, how are you?"

"You did not go to college?"

"No Allan, you know the summer holidays are on, that's why"

"Oh I see, ok. Siddharth, there are some documents that I need to pick up from your house. I spoke to Sridhar this morning. Since he is not home, I have to come and collect myself."

"Shall I bring it to office, Allan." I offered my help.

"Oh..don't bother. I was meaning to say hi to you and Amrutha too. Been a long time. When can I come and pick it up from your house?"

"Sure Allan why not? I would be at home all day."

"Ok , I will be there around noon"

"Ok Allan..see you"

"bye"

"bye"

It was a while since I had last seen him at the party and was looking forward to meeting him.

Dad had a study upstairs where he kept his files, books, computer etc and occasionally worked from there while not in office.

The calling bell rang around 3 pm while I was watching a comedy show on the TV. I opened the door in anticipation and there he was.

"Hello....Siddharth" he said in his booming voice.

"Hello Allan"

"So, how are you guys. It's been a while..huh?"

Just then, mom came out of the kitchen.

"Hey, Allan..how are you?" She asked in her Indian accent.

"Fantastic." he replied.

"What would you have?" mom asked.

"Coffee will be good. Thanks Amrutha." he replied.

We both made ourselves comfortable on the sofa and engaged in small talk. Mom went to the kitchen.

After a while mom brought Coffee and some biscuits and placed it in front of him and took a seat on the chair next to the TV.

Allan turned his attention to mom and started talking to her. After the party I got curious about his intentions, so I was especially attentive to their conversation. But it was a banal everyday conversation that did not pique my interest. Difference between life in India and Canada, how was she settling down etc stuff like that. So I turned my attention to the TV.

I was engrossed in the show and paid little attention to what they were talking. They were after all grown ups and they had their own things to talk about.

Occasionally mom would burst into laughter and I would also join in involuntarily not knowing what it was about. But Allan had that sort of personality. He could make people laugh with his talk.

It was almost an hour that the conversation went on and mom suddenly stood up and said "gosh..I have to go to the market and buy groceries for the week. I completely forgot"

"Oh..is it..I am so sorry for making you forget...was I so charming?" Allan said with a wink.

Mom blushed. "No no. It was my fault. I am getting absent minded nowadays, may be getting old" Mom put on a sad face.

"Old? you must be joking. You don't even look like you have an adult son." Allan continued pressing on with his charm.

Mom's face had turned beet red and I could see that she was quietly pleased with the compliments.

"Well when the heart is young, then what else do you need, right? Siddharth?" he turned to me.

I was hearing this back and forth conversation and was a bit amused. I mean two individuals in their thirties were flirting with each other and I was a bit confused.

After what happened at the party, mom had come out of her shell, especially in front of Allan whom she had a good time with. So she was not really nervous and quietly enjoying this play.

Not sure what to say, mom smiled and walked towards the bedroom upstairs to change.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Allan watched her walk and his eyes seemed to be fixed on her undulating buttocks as she slowly disappeared into her bedroom.

"ok..Siddharth I will take a leave"

"But Allan, the documents..." I asked

"Ahhh..forgot..truly I forgot the purpose for which I came" Allan said in mock exasperation. "Do you know where they are?"

"Probably would be in dad's study upstairs" I replied.

Just then mom reappeared and I could see that she had changed into a saree. She was wearing a mauve one that went well with her dusky complexion. Her face was all radiant as she had freshened herself up and put on some light make up. That was kind of unusual for mom given that she was just going to the local supermarket. She never wore saree to run errands and usually wore western outfits outdoors. In Canada, ethnic Indian wear were reserved for special occasions only. But what the hell, she looked good.

She walked towards us demurely making every effort to cover her midriff with the saree mundhaanai, all prim and proper. Allan was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"So so...madam Amrutha is going to set the town on fire..hmmm" Allan knew how to flirt.

Mom giggled. Putting on a face she acted coy but still smiling. She stole a glance at me. I was also smiling. Kind of proud of her personality.

"Ok..I am leaving for the market....Siddharth make sure that the doors are locked when Allan leaves."

"yes mom" I replied.

"Bye Amrutha" Allan said.

"Bye" mom replied and stepped out of the house.

Now we had a 3 bedroom townhouse and apart from my room and master bedroom upstairs, the third bedroom was a guest room on the first floor. Dad's study was also upstairs next to the master bedroom. That was where dad sat when he brought work home. And there were kitchen and living room as well on the first floor. We had a decent sized backyard behind the kitchen.

"Well it's here..let me take you to the room" I trailed off when suddenly the phone rang.

"It's ok. You take the call. I can find it myself" Allan said.

"Allan, it's upstairs next to the master bedroom" I pointed in the direction upstairs and picked up the phone from the side table.

"Ok Siddharth..thanks"

Allan got up and went upstairs and disappeared around the corner. I picked up the call. It was Dave, a friend from college.

After about 15 minutes I hung up. Dave was planning for a camping trip and told me the detail on the phone. I got excited about the plan and quickly got up from the sofa and made my way to the study to make sure that Allan had got what he wanted.

I entered the room but Allan was not in there. I gently pushed open the bathroom door next to the study but it was also empty.

Puzzled, I came out of the room and was about to make my way back to the living room downstairs when I saw that the master bedroom door was slightly open. This was my parent's bedroom and normally the door is kept shut whenever either mom or dad are not in the house.

Nervously I tip-toed towards the bedroom and was horrified to hear a sound coming from the room. It was the sound of a man panting and moaning at the same time.

I gently pushed the door open to get a better view and what I saw shocked me to no end.

Allan was standing at the foot of the bed with his back towards the door. His pants and underwear were down at his ankles and I could see his hips were bucking forward and backward. I could see that his face was covered with some kind of cloth.

Summoning my wits I pushed the door open a little more and saw that the cloth on his face was nothing but my mom's panties. He was sniffing them, for god's sake. And what did we have down on his dick? It was another pair of my mom's panties that was wrapped around his massive erect dick. The laundry basket was right next to him.

My throat went dry and I felt that I would collapse there.

"ahhh ugghhhhhh....ahhhhhhh" he was making noises from his throat as his white swollen dick with pinkish cockhead was rubbed against the silky material of my mom's panties.

Suddenly I had this urge to pee and I ran away from there and shut myself in the bathroom. As I unzipped my jeans to pee, I noticed that my dick was erect. Strangely the scene had turned me on!!!!!

Oh my god...a stranger sniffing my mom's soiled panties and jacking off in them had turned me on!!! God..what do I do? I felt ill and hurriedly took a leak making sure that I did not splash any of my urine on the floor.

After pissing I went down to the hall and sat in front of the TV, staring at it while I played out the scenes in my mind. I did not care what was on the TV, that was the least of my concerns.

What I saw was like a nightmare or was it a dream...? I was confused.

I didn't know how many minutes had passed but my trance was broken with the sound of flushing coming from the bathroom upstairs and footsteps rapidly approaching.

Putting on a brave face, I turned towards the sound and saw Allan coming down the stairs with a clutch of papers in his hand.

"Did you get what you need." I asked, croaked rather.

"yes...everything" he smiled at me.

"Nice meeting you Siddharth....it was a pleasure" he smiled and shook my hand.

"Ok Allan...see you" I said trying to avert eye contact with him.

"Bye" he said and opened the door and walked out.

My mind was spinning, and I did not know what to make of everything that had happened and what I was witness to.

I locked the front door and ran to the master bedroom. The door was closed as was the case usually. I opened the door and stood at the place where just minutes back Allan had stood.

I surveyed the whole area and my eyes fell on the laundry hamper near the foot of the bed. Oh god had Allan shot his seed into my mom's panties? What would happen if mom knows about it? I meant would she suspect me?

Hurriedly I dug into the hamper and pulled out 4 soiled panties that my mom had worn that week. I inspected the crotch of each of the panties and found that apart from my mom's juices and urine stains, the area was actually dry. There were one or two odd pubic hairs stuck to some of them.

Relieved, I put the panties back into the hamper and went to the bathroom where Allan had just taken a leak. A pungent smell hovered around in the bathroom. Something like the smell of cum. I opened the waste basket next to the toilet seat and found a crumpled ball of paper in it.

So that was what happened. Allan had shot his semen into toilet paper and not into my mother's panties.

God...I was so relieved and strangely thanked him for doing me a favour. Suddenly a weird thought occurred to me. I fantasised Allan's white cock fucking mom's brown pussy and unloading his cum there. Immediately I jerked off playing that in my mind.

The excitement had made me so weak that I dragged myself to my bedroom and collapsed on the bed. It was a while before I got up.

[shivkajan]

Chapter 3:

A month had passed since that incident. I was caught up in my lessons and tuitions. But the scenes of that day occasionally came to my mind and to my surprise I replayed the scene in my mind whenever I needed to jack off.

Taking a cue from Allan, I too experimented by sniffing my mom's panties, but never got too excited. In fact the taboo of incest always played on in my mind. That was the last thing I wanted to do.

One day, it so happened that mom, dad and I went to the downtown shopping mall and we bumped onto Allan. He was elated to see us and offered to have a drink with him.

Since I was not legally allowed to drink, I excused myself to check on the latest gaming that were on display in the esports centre in the mall. Mom, dad and Allan went to the bar on the top floor.

After an hour I got kind of bored and went to the bar to check on them. They were sitting on a table at the centre of the bar. Dad and Allan were having beer and mom had a glass of soft drink on the table. Dad's eyes looked droopy. I thought he had had quite a few drinks. But Allan had a wide smile on his face as I saw him chatting with mom. She also appeared to be enjoying the conversation and looked quite comfortable with Allan. Allan saw me entering the bar and waved at me. He then asked for the bill. It was already quite late in the evening and dad was a bit inebriated, so we decided to call it a night. Before we left for the taxi home, Allan shook dad's and my hand and then gave a hug to mom and whispered something that I could not hear. I saw mom giggled. That raised my curiosity.

On the way home dad dozed off. I could hear him snooze. Seeing that an opportunity, I asked mom about their time in the bar earlier.

"So mom, you had a good time in the bar?" I could not help a cheeky smile.

Mom didn't notice it in the dark.

"Yes, I had. Your dad had too many drinks, so I had to do most of the talking". She gave a look of mock anger to my snoozing dad.

"Allan is a real gentleman. He didn't mind giving me company." Mom said.

"What did you talk about?"

"He wanted to know about me. My life in India before coming here. My dreams, family, what I want in life..you know all those stuff. He knows how to make others feel good." Mom replied.

"Ok, then..." I was curious.

"He told me a lot of things about himself. He has divorced his ex-wife two years ago. They have a 10 years old son and a 8 years old daughter together. His ex-wife got their custody after divorce. And he is just 34, can you believe it?"

"Wow...really" I was amused but not surprised. My guess was right. Allan was indeed younger than mom.

"Now he lives alone and sometimes feels lonely. But he likes to make new friends and spend time with them" Mom added.

I saw where it was going. Allan knew how to charm a woman.

"He also offered to take me out if I ever feel lonely." I sensed a tinge of embarrassment while mom said the last sentence.

"What did you say?" My curiosity peaked.

"Well.. I didn't commit anything...." Mom acted coy.

That weird fantasy flashed on me again like a thunderbolt. Allan's cock inside mom's pussy. Blood rushed through my veins; my heart raged. Instantly I decided to make that fantasy come true. I wanted to be a part of this and help them mate. That thought gave me a massive hard on in my jeans. Fortunately, mom couldn't see that in the darkness inside the taxi.

"You should take the offer mom. See dad is always busy with his work and tours. I am getting busy too in my studies. You need someone to give you company. You need a friend. And in a new country it's not easy to get a friend like Allan." I blurted out in a single breath.

Mom gave me kind of a confused look. Didn't know what to make of it.

"Ok, I don't mind. Beside he is a gentleman and fun guy to be around. I'll take that offer". Mom smiled.

My heart sank a bit. Although I fantasised for Allan and mom to copulate, I also tried to protect mom from being the object of lust of another man who is not my dad. After all she was my mom and I loved my dad. Therefore, I expected her to denounce me and politely refuse Allan's offer as I was sure she knew where it was going. She was not stupid.

But immediately that thought was overpowered by my fantasy. My rational mind lost to my dick.

When we arrived at home it was almost midnight.

[shivkajan]

Chapter 4:

Summer gave way to fall, and the new term had started at college. Dad was out again on a tour to their Arizona office. I kept myself busy in college, study, friends etc.

About a fortnight after the mall incident, one evening I came home from college to find a big SUV parked in our driveway. Since dad was not home, I wondered who could it be at this time.

I rang the doorbell. Couple of seconds later mom opened the door and as soon I stepped in, I heard Allan calling my name.

"Hey Siddharth. How are ya doing man?".

He was sitting on the sofa in the living room drinking coffee.

"Hey Allan, nice to see you. How have you been? When did you come?"

"Literally 15 mins ago. Was in the neighbourhood so thought of swinging by. Your mom has been a good host. She made me coffee." Allan chuckled.

"Do you need anything?" Mom asked looking at me.

I didn't want to interrupt them to whatever they were doing. I recalled what happened last time when Allan was here.

"You guys continue. Let me make myself a coffee" I gingerly walked towards the kitchen.

Mom went back to the sofa and sat beside Allan.

From the kitchen, the sofa was clearly visible. One could even hear what's going on in there if paying enough attention.

I started making coffee, but my ear was alert. I heard them talking about regular stuffs.

Then suddenly Allan jumped onto more personal matters. He asked mom when did she get married, whether she had a boyfriend before marriage, when was I born - things like that. Mom was answering them diligently one by one. She had no boyfriend before marrying my dad and theirs was an arranged marriage which was typical in India. Hearing that Allan raised his eyebrow. I saw a smirk on his face.

"So you were a virgin on your wedding night? What a lucky dude Sridhar was to deflower you."

I was startled to hear that bluntness from Allan. Publicly he was a proper gentleman but in private he was a brash dude.

What surprised me most was mom's reaction. She didn't seem to bother or feel embarrassed. Instead I heard her giggle.

"Yes, I did save myself for the wedding night". She looked over her shoulder towards the kitchen and lowered her voice. But I could still hear her words.

"Aha. I see! So how is your sex life? Did you ever sleep with other guys?" Allan lowered his voice too.

"Nope. Sridhar was very good in bed. Never needed anyone else." Mom told firmly.

"Oh come on. How would you enjoy life if you do not taste other men" Allan held his ground. "And you have a body to die for. I am sure many men would love to make love to you." His volume was so low I struggled to hear from the kitchen.

Mom giggled again but didn't protest or tried to divert the topic. She was definitely enjoying the conversation.

I never heard her speaking about her private life to anyone, let alone a relative stranger like Allan. But I also noticed how comfortable she was talking all these when her son was home. She had really opened herself up to him.

"Tell me why you didn't have more children? Did Sridhar not want more?" Allan asked.

"Yes he did want more. But I was not ready. One was enough for me. Sridhar always had a very demanding job, so it would have been quite difficult to raise more kids all by my own. Plus more kids would take toll on my body. Then no man would like to make love to me, you know". She lowered her voice almost to an inaudible level. I really struggled to hear that but didn't fail to recognise the flirtatious tone in her voice.

This last sentence was like a thunderbolt struck me. What had I heard? Was she serious or just teasing Allan. Even if teasing, she went too far. I could clearly sense the sexual tension building between them. They were like a naughty couple dancing to an erotic tune.

Before it went too far, I decided to intervene. I moved out of the kitchen with my coffee mug and declared my arrival.

"Hey Allan, did you watch the baseball last night? Red sox were incredible." I knew he was a baseball fan.

"Yes they were." Allan replied still looking at mom.

"Right. I think I should go now. Thanks for the coffee, Amrutha" Allan got up.

"Don't forget the shopping this Saturday". He said to mom before saying bye and stepped out of the house. I heard the engine of the car outside revved up before he drove away.

"What was that all about, the shopping thing?" I quizzed mom.

"Oh nothing. Allan wants to go for shopping and he wants some female opinion to buy a wedding gift. He has a wedding to attend on Sunday". Mom replied nonchalantly.

I was aghast but secretly admired his guts. He had the balls to make a pass at my mom and yet persuaded her to help him shopping. And my feeling became stronger than ever that he was sneakily trying to get in between my mom's caramel brown legs. Shopping was just a ploy. But I didn't care as long he was making steady progress towards mom's pussy.

"Is he going to pick you up? I hope he treats you nicely." I smiled to which mom replied with a smile.



Came Saturday and mom dressed up in a salwar kameez with light jewellery. She had done hina mehendi on her hands and a bindi on her forehead.

Sharp at 2 pm I heard Allan's SUV pulled in.

"How am I looking.?" Mom asked.

"Beautiful" I replied.

As soon I heard the doorbell, I ran to open the door. Allan was standing there with a bouquet.

"Is Amrutha ready?" He asked.

Mom came out to greet Allan. He was literally awestruck to see mom in that attire. His jaw dropped.

Seeing his reaction mom couldn't help but laughed.

"You look stunning." Allan came out of the spell. He handed over the bouquet to mom.

"Ohh, thank you." Mom handed over the bouquet to me and asked Allan "Shall we go now?"

Within minutes they drove away.

I shut the door and came back to the living room and made myself comfortable on the sofa.

Those fantasies started clouding my mind again. Was Allan going to seduce mom today and take her to his place? Was mom going to resist? What if Allan forced his way on to mom?

Would she give in? So many thoughts gathered in my mind. But one thing was clear. I wanted Allan and mom to fuck no matter how. A beautiful lady like my mom needed to be fucked by a hunk like Allan.

I jerked off a couple of times thinking all these. In the end I was quite exhausted and dozed off on the sofa.

I must have slept for hours because when I woke up it was dark outside. I checked the clock and it was 7 o'clock in the evening. Gosh it had been 5 hours already since they went out, I thought.

Those were the days when mobile phones were not ubiquitous, so I couldn't check on their status.

I watched some TV, ordered pizza, did some college assignment before the clock struck 10. Still there was no sign of mom returning. I started to get a bit worried.

It was around 10:30 when I heard the SUV pulled into our driveway. I almost ran to the door when I heard the doorbell. Allan and Mom were standing outside the door. Allan's hand wrapped around mom's waist. Mom looked tipsy.

"Take care of your mom. I think she's a bit drunk" Allan chuckled.

I got a bit anxious but mom assured me with her smile. They said good night to each other. Allan drove away saying good night to me as well.

I took mom inside and locked the door. She sat on the sofa and let out a sigh. She looked a bit tired now.

"How was your day, mom" I asked.

After a brief pause she replied with a smile, "Allan is a gentleman. Look what he bought me." Mom showed me a cute new nose ring. That looked expensive.

"I asked him not to buy but he was adamant. He said it looks great on me." Mom chuckled.

I thought she would look sexier (maybe a bit slutty) in that.

"Then he took me to dinner in a nice restaurant, we had few drinks and he insisted to see a movie. I think he is my best friend now." Mom's eyes lit up when she said the last sentence. She clearly meant it.

I could see the pattern. Surely Allan had won her heart first and was slowly progressing towards her pussy. One thing was for sure, Allan was not going to force his way. He was a charmer, a seducer and not a rapist.

"That's nice. I hope he too enjoyed the evening with you".

Mom smiled at me. That told me she had her feminine charm on Allan too. So it's now a seduction game between them.

"I'm off to bed, quite tired." She yawned and walked off.

Did they fuck? Did they have oral sex inside the movie theatre? Was mom hiding that part from me? I had to find out.

About 15 to 20 minutes later when I didn't hear any sound from her bedroom, I got up and tiptoed into the master bedroom. The door didn't have a functioning lock.

Inside, mom had changed into her night gown and was sleeping on the bed. I gingerly moved to the bed to check if there was any tell-tale sign of sex. I opened the laundry basket. There was a black panty lying on top of the heap, probably the one she had worn that evening.

I inspected the crotch area. There was a little bit of dampness with her usual smell but nothing suspicious. I put the panty back in the basket and came out of the room.

They hadn't had sex that evening was my conclusion.

[shivkajan]

Chapter -5



This became a regular thing for the next couple of months. Whenever dad was out on tour, Allan used to come to our home and chat for hours with mom. I often found him home when I came back from college. Sometimes they went to "shopping date", "dinner date", "movie date" together leaving me at home. Needless to say, I never told a word about this to dad neither did mom. I was quietly enjoying their shenanigans.

I was not sure if they already had sex but going by their body language, I thought that was the only missing bit in the puzzle. They had still not slept together. Also, I noticed a gradual impatience creeping in Allan. That suggested he had not achieved his holy grail yet. He had yet to sink his manhood in the divine nectar in mom's honey pot. Mom was playing the game well, perhaps better. She knew once Allan had this, she would have no power on Allan or herself.

Fall gave way to winter. Mercury was dipping every passing day. We already had the first snow of the season. We had never experienced snow in Chennai. So it was a novelty to us. Everything around looked so beautiful. Everyone around looked happy.

It was just before Christmas. My college was already closed until after New Year. Dad just came back from another tour. He had taken holidays from Christmas until New Year's Day. We were making plans about things to do during that time off and for my mom's impending birthday which was on the 31st.

The three of us were discussing that sitting on the sofa, suddenly the phone rang. I was closest to the phone, so I picked up. It was Allan on the other side. He asked me if everyone was there and to put the phone on speaker. He sounded kind of ominous.

"It's Allan." I said to mom and dad and put the speaker on.

"Hey Allan" Dad said.

"Hey Sridhar, hi Amrutha. Apologies first. I know it's not the right time to call but there is something urgent I need to say."

There was pin drop silence in the room.

"Go on" Dad broke the silence.

"I just received a report from John in our Phoenix office that they found several serious flaws in one of our client's account. This account was supposed to be settled by end of the year. They are one of our biggest clients so we can't go lax on them." Allan paused.

"Now Michael was in charge of the client, but he is on holiday in Europe. And you know John can't handle this alone. He is simply not qualified to make amendments to that account. So I'm afraid you are the only person I could think of who can take care of this mess. You are in the know. You have to go to Phoenix after Christmas, do whatever it takes, settle the account before we deliver to our client after New Year's Day. I know it's a lot to ask for especially since you have taken holidays too, but you know you're the only one I could trust in this situation."

"But..it's my wife's birthday on..." Dad couldn't complete his sentence.

"That's why I asked Siddharth to put the phone on speaker. I have to apologise to Amrutha and Siddharth profoundly for taking you away on her birthday. But I'll make sure that her birthday is not ruined. Siddharth and I will make every effort to make her feel special on the day. Siddharth are you with me?" Allan knew about mom's birthday.

That was the moment. I knew if I wanted my fantasy to materialize that was the perfect opportunity. That birthday she was perhaps going to get the best gift of her life. A brand new cock. Allan's cock. And I was the last frontier standing between them. I had to say yes.

"Of course I'm with you Allan. Dad, you need not worry about mom's birthday. Allan and I will take care of everything. You finish your work there and come back. We will not make her complain about anything." I tried to hide my excitement.

"There you go. Amrutha, are you okay with that?" Allan asked.

"If he has to go, I can't stop him. Work always comes in the way." Mom pulled a sad face with disappointment in her voice.

Not sure if that was genuine or was she faking it. She knew the deal of course.

"Awww. Don't get disheartened Amrutha. I'll personally be there to celebrate your birthday. Of course it won't be the same without Sridhar. At least I'll try my best to make you happy, I promise." Allan said.

I knew what he meant; mom knew what he meant. Only dad didn't.

I felt sorry for my poor dad. He was working his ass off to make his family happy. And behind his back, his beautiful wife was having an affair with his boss. And his son was making sure that his mom got her pussy filled by her lover's dick.

"I'll ask my secretary to arrange for tickets, accommodation and everything. You will come back on the 1st and John will take care of the rest from there." Allan disconnected the phone.

It was obvious, dad was not happy at all. Who could be? But he could not ignore the call of duty either.

I was not sure what to make of it. Was it mere coincidence that this fiasco came to light at this time, or was this by design? Allan planned it meticulously. Was he alone in hatching the plan or did mom have a hand in it? Lots of questions came to my mind but the truth would perhaps never be known.

I couldn't gauge mom's emotion though. Apparently, she looked very disappointed, but inside she might be excited that finally the time had come. And so did I.

Dad departed for Phoenix on the morning after Christmas.

Shortly after I got a call from Allan. He asked me to meet him the next day. He wanted to plan a surprise party for mom's birthday. He said it would be an exclusive party for 3 of us only.

He was on the right track, I thought.

I met Allan at the shopping mall the next day. We sat in a café to chalk out a rough plan for 31st. Obviously that did not involve the special time he would spend with mom.

"I thought that I will buy her some gift. And I need your help on that" He said.

"Ok" I replied.

He took me to Victoria's Secret and straight to the lingerie section. He gestured towards the panties section and said

"Do you want me to buy your mom one of those". He was pointing to a sheer lace panty that was displayed on a rack. He had a wicked smile on his face.

Embarrassed and red in the face, I just smiled weakly.

"Ha ha ha" he laughed and patted me on the shoulder.

Now this was brazen and I found my blood flowing into my dick.

He chose a mauve camisole on one of the mannequins that ends just below the crotch. And a black matching thong to go with that.

"Does your mom have them?" He asked.

Well I had no clue about my mom's private wardrobe but I never saw her wearing a camisole before.

"I think not" I replied.

"Ok, let me buy 'em for her".

I had no doubt that it was going to be a special day for mom. A lot of things would be new to her. A camisole, a thong, perhaps a white cock. I only wished that I had the opportunity to witness them.

The master bedroom had a malfunctioning lock that needed to be fixed. Two days before her birthday I told mom that I was going to replace it with a new one. It was broken for a long time.

So I removed the old lock, and drilled the keyhole a lot bigger. Then I pretended there was something wrong with the new lock that it couldn't be fixed and I needed to buy a new one.

Mom being ignorant of my ploy believed me. Obviously, she didn't know anything about DIY work and didn't suspect a thing.

The fateful day had finally arrived. 31st December, end of the year and mom's birthday too. It was the coldest day of the season and there were forecasts of heavy snow overnight.

In the morning, dad called from Phoenix and talked to mom for hours. I could imagine he was profoundly apologetic about not being home. But mom didn't look all that sad.

It had started snowing sporadically by the afternoon, but the intensity grew as day gave way to night.

In the evening, Mom was all dressed up in another one of her silk sarees with sleeveless blouse. This accentuated her curves, and anyone could figure out the contours of her body. She had kept her silky smooth hair untied and had put on some light makeup. She had also put on the nose ring that Allan had given her the other day. She was looking cute albeit a bit sexier with the nose ring on. She had her usual thaali dangling just above her boobs, pinch of kumkum on the parting of hair and bangles in both hands. She was looking a perfect mother and wife.

I was dressed in jeans and t-shirt as usual.

It was evening around 7 pm when Allan showed up at the door.

"Where is the birthday girl?" his voice boomed across the house.

Mom came out to the living room smiling.

Allan caught her unaware by suddenly opening his arms wide and hugging her. She was taken aback but Allan was a strong man and he made sure that her fleshy body pressed against his rock solid one. In the process I saw his right hand travel through the length of her back and rest on her buttocks.

He then did something that took me by surprise. He planted a kiss on mom's lips. It was an audible smooch which frankly I didn't expect.

Mom pulled back surprised too and looked at me not knowing what to say. She was not expecting that especially in front of her son.

I just smiled sheepishly.

Allan released his grip on mom.

"Look what I have brought you" Allan said and handed over the gift to mom.

By that time she had gathered her wits. "What is it?"

"Surprise" Allan said.

Mom took out a packet in the cover and opened it. Immediately she understood what it was. I saw a look of embarrassment in her face. She put them back in the cover.

"Only for you" Allan said.

Mom lowered her eyes and walked away towards the bedroom to keep it along with her things.

"I want you to wear it tonight" Allan's voice boomed from behind.

"Later" said my mom in a low voice, obviously shy.

The party with the three of us went off well. Mom cut the birthday cake that I brought in the morning.

We had ordered food from a restaurant. Mom had made a special dessert.

After the dinner Allan opened a bottle of red wine. He brought several with him. He poured wine to his and mom's glass and I got myself some soft drink.

It was close to 11 pm now and the city was beginning to anticipate the coming of the new year. The snow became heavier outside. But inside it was warm and cosy.

"What do we do now?" I asked.

"Whatever the birthday girl wishes." Allan announced.

"Well, we could watch some movie". Mom replied.

"Good. I have a DVD of Titanic. You all okay with that." I asked.

Both nodded.

While I was busy putting the DVD on, mom took her wine glass and sat on the main sofa. Immediately Allan took his place next to mom and said

"Tonight let me be with the special lady. Would you mind, Siddharth?" I startled. This was not in plan. But what else could I do.

"I'm all good. She is your lady tonight". I showed mock surrender.

Allan looked at me and smiled. Mom gave me a puzzled look.

I sat on the other lounge chair perpendicular to the main sofa. I could see what was happening there from the corner of my eye. I put the lights off.

The movie was on, but my mind was elsewhere. From time to time I could see they were talking at a low voice perhaps not to disturb me.

Allan poured some more wine in both their glasses. Mom had started showing the effect. She was getting a bit tipsy. I knew she had a low alcohol tolerance.

Around 15 minutes had passed.

She folded her knees and put her feet up on the sofa now. In the process she cosied up a bit and came closer to Allan. Allan sensed the opportunity and put his arm around her shoulder.

The room was dark, only light reflecting from the TV screen. In that light I could see they had started whispering in each other's ear. Occasionally they were smiling quietly. They were certainly not paying attention to the movie.

Allan poured some more wine in her glass.

She took a sip, put the glass on the side table and snuggled up further in Allan's arm. She now rested her head on Allan's shoulder.

Allan looked at her and placed a light peck on her forehead, and then on her exposed cheek, then chin and finally on her lips.

Mom looked up, their eyes met. A couple of seconds and Allan placed his lips fully on mom's mouth. He started kissing her lips without making sound.

From the corner of my eye, I could see mom opened her mouth and took his lips in. She was kissing back. I could not see clearly in the darkness, but I thought I saw Allan's tongue probing inside mom's mouth.

Suddenly there were some loud sounds in the movie. They got startled and broke the kiss.

A few minutes later, mom yawned and said

"Right, I feel sleepy. I'm off to bed now". Saying that, she took a gulp from the wine glass and was about to get up.

[shivkajan]

It took me a good few minutes to recover from my orgasmic bliss. I was in a state of trance, still processing what I just had observed. There she was, my prim and proper Indian mother getting her pussy filled by a white man who is not her husband. The erotic nature of this copulation was simply irresistible. The contrast of their skin tone, especially their locked genitals, the debauchery of a loyal Indian wife with her white paramour and finally receiving his baby making seed in her receptive womb were all too much for me. I never cummed so much before.

I looked inside the bedroom now. They were lying exhausted, Allan on top of mom. His now shrinking cock still buried inside her pussy. Mom gradually loosened her grip on Allan and her legs slid down onto the bed. Knees slightly bent, her legs splayed wide on the bed. Allan's flaccid cock came out of her pussy with an audible 'plonk' noise and with that drops of cum oozed out and trickled down through her left inner thigh onto the bed sheet and formed a huge wet spot.

Allan rolled over to her left and laid flat on his back. His now limp cock was lying upside down on his abdomen, glistening with mom's pussy juice. The head pointing towards his chest. A tiny drop of cum formed at the slit.

I looked towards mom. Her freshly fucked pussy was stretched so wide that I could see a gaping hole and a pool of fresh cum inside. Allan's semen oozing out from her pussy and there was also some blood mixed with it, she was bleeding slightly because his monster cock had torn her tight inner labia. That was a sign that my mom hadn't had sex in years or maybe because dad's cock was much smaller than Allan's. Given how attractive she was and her flawless performance minutes ago, I'd assume the second.

After a minute or so her inner lips slowly closed and her pussy went back to its "normal" shape.

She turned to her left now. Allan was lying on his back with his eyes closed. Mom looked downwards to his cock and with her right hand grabbed hold of it. Allan opened his eyes, tilted his head towards mom. Their eyes met and they both smiled at each other. No word was spoken, mom raised her upper body leaning on her left elbow and put her lips on Allan's and started kissing. Allan kissed back. Within seconds they were passionately kissing each other. Their tongues entwined and danced in each other's mouth. Further down mom's right hand started stroking his cock gently, occasionally giving light squeezes. I could see few drops of his leftover cum dripped out and fell on mom's fingers.

They broke the kiss and mom brought her mouth down and planted a soft kiss on the cockhead. She swiftly smeared the cum accumulated on Allan's cock tip on her lips like a lipstick. She then opened her lips and put the head inside. Allan winced in sheer pleasure and put his right hand on the back of mom's head. He then lightly pushed her head against his cock and at the same time gave a slight forward thrust by his cock. About 2 inches of his cock entered her mouth. Mom was bit surprised by this and rolled her eyes. Nevertheless she happily started sucking on the cock. The cock grew bigger in her mouth and in no time half of its full 9 inches buried inside of her mouth and the other half was wrapped by mom's fingers. Mom then removed her hand from the cock and took hold of his balls. She started bobbing her head up and down the shaft, while scratching his balls with her manicured nails. His balls started getting heavier. She looked at them, gave a naughty smile, brought her tongue near the balls, and gave a nice long lick. She occasionally took them in her mouth. I could imagine the degree of pleasure Allan was receiving. His legs spread further apart giving mom deeper access to his balls, his 9 inches proudly standing tall, pointing towards the ceiling, his eyes shut, face grimaced and a low groan escaped his mouth. Encouraged, my mom went back to suck his cock, taking half of his length in one go and started bobbing up and down. The cock was glistening with her saliva and her juices from the fucking earlier.

By now, my mom had crossed all the boundaries of being a faithful wife and mother. She had found the forbidden fruit she had perhaps been craving for long deep beneath her prim and proper exterior. The way she was enjoying with Allan in her bed, said to me that she finally met her match. Her deepest carnal desire is about to be satisfied.

Allan patted on her bare butt cheek. My mom stopped sucking and looked at him. Allan winked and gestured her to come over him. She shifted her butt over, straddling his face. Her knees are in-line with his ears. She slowly lowered her pelvic. Allan also helped by locking his hand around her waist and pulling her shapely ass down on his face. His face is now fully engulfed by her round butt. I could sense when his tongue touched her pussy. She suddenly shuddered and arched her back. Her eyes rolled over, hair dishevelled across shoulder. He must have touched her erogenous spot because a guttural sound emanated from her. She had now firmly pressed her pelvic to Allan's mouth and at the same time herself took his erect pole in mouth. They are now in a 69 position.

From where I stand, I could see mom's end of the action. She was bobbing her head up and down frantically, taking almost the entire length in her mouth. His cock head must be touching her throat. Her thaali, the sign of her marital sanctity was swinging wildly and regularly brushing against the cock. It looked as though it was also busy pleasing his cock. I had never thought in my wildest dream that my conservative Indian mom could give such a nice deep throat. From time to time she took the cock out and with her nose touched the tip of his cock head. I guess she was taking a sniff of his musky aroma. Her silky-smooth hair would fall down from her shoulder and came in between her mouth and his cock. She would quickly flick her hair back over her shoulder making the space between his cock and her lips free from any obstruction. By now they were settled in a steady rhythm sucking each other.

This went on for a good few minutes. Allan patted her butt again and mom got up. She looked over to Allan. He gestured her to turn around which mom complied. He asked "Amrutha, how about you ride me?" Mom giggled and rode him without saying a word. She straddled him placing her knees either side of his waist. With her left hand placed on his torso to keep balance, she grabbed his cock with her right hand and placed the cockhead right at the entrance of her vagina. They looked at each other, a non verbal agreement was made and she lowered her body onto his pole. First his bulbous pink cockhead and then inch by inch of his vein covered white dick started disappearing inside the fold of her mocha coloured pussy. She stopped when his dick was half way through. She now raised herself until the cockhead is just enough inside of her not to slide out. She slowly lowered herself again. This continued for couple of minutes. With each stroke Allan went deeper and deeper until the base hit her pussy lips. He was fully in. She took few more full strokes. Allan's cock was buried deep inside her. At that position she paused for a moment.

I was astonished to see their stamina. Allan notwithstanding, but I had never thought mom had this kind of sexual vigour. There she was, my conservative mom riding on her lover's cock. The contrast between their skin tone was the sexiest thing anyone would notice. My mom with her dusky glowing skin riding on a pinkish white cock. The white cock was deeply buried in her darkish brown pussy and the pussy lips were stretched to accommodate his 3 inches girth. She placed both her hands on Allan's chest and bent forward to offer her tits. Allan hungrily took one in his mouth and cupped the other with his left hand. Again his pinkish lips against her dark areola looked so sexy. They looked like a perfect pair. She, the exotic Indian princess finally gave herself to her white knight, showering him with her eastern sensuality. He the blonde nordic king was devouring on his exotic conquest. Everything from their body contour to overall features looked like they perfectly complement each other. Cupid had handpicked this couple.

The sight was simply too sexy. A conservative and devout Indian wife and mom had tasted the forbidden fruit. Something inside me told that there would be no way back from here. Mom would get drawn to this virile cock time and time again, she would no longer be happy with anything less. I thought, she fully deserved this cock. Her mature sexuality needed a testosterone fuelled man who could give her all this pleasure. The fact that mom cheated on dad to get her pussy filled, made this forbidden liaison even more intoxicating. She would definitely not have received this kind of pleasure in a monotonous marital sex.

My mom collected her loose hair and tied in a small bun while Allan was devouring her tits. She adjusted herself riding on Allan to give him better access to her tits causing her naturally wide hips to flare further. Her butt cheeks spread further apart. Allan placed his hands on either cheek near the crack and pulled them a bit further. I could clearly see her dark puckered hole. Mom further bent forward and rested her upper body on top of Allan's torso. His cock buried deep inside her pussy. They looked at each other and she took his lips in her mouth and started kissing.

Meanwhile Allan tightened his grip on her ass and started pounding from below. From my vantage point I could see his white rod going in and out of mom's pussy. Her pussy lips were swollen and firmly clutched his rod. Couple of strokes later I saw mom's hips also gyrating with Allan's thrusts. She was nearing another orgasm. Allan clutched her now loosened hair and pulled her head back. She was staring at the ceiling. Both had increased their tempo. Couple of more thrusts from Allan and mom could not hold. She reached her peak. With a long groan she shuddered.

"Ah ah ah aaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiii" mom whimpered and collapsed on Allan. A powerful orgasm had erupted. Her juices started flowing down Allan's manhood. She was breathing heavily with her eyes closed. Allan meanwhile rolled over and put mom on the bed on her back. Mom was still breathing heavy with her nostril flared up and there were sweat beads glistening on her forehead. Her face looked angelic by the post orgasmic bliss. She opened her eyes and reached out for Allan. Once she grabbed hold of his hands, she pulled him onto her and showered him with kisses on his face, lips, neck and chest. She locked her legs on Allan's butt to pull him further in. Her right hand reached between their bodies and got hold of his balls while her left arm slowly caressed his back. It was a sight to behold. Mom's petite frame was completely overtaken by Allan's athletic frame. Only her brown limbs are poking out from under his white body. It looked as if chocolate flakes were poured onto a bowl of cream. Her right hand was gently massaging on his hairless balls. Her bangles were making sweet melodic chimes with her action. This added to the eroticism that was unfolding on the bed.

The air inside the room was filled with pungent aroma from their love juices mixed with smell of pheromone and sweat. I could smell that even from outside the door. It was intoxicating and made my dick hard again. I started stroking my dick gently.

Allan got on to his knees and placed himself between mom's legs. He delicately spread them wide apart and placed his hard cock right at the entrance of her pussy. Their eyes met and an unspoken lust was transmitted. Mom grabbed his cock and lovingly put that in her love hole.

Allan meanwhile adjusted himself between her thighs. He then placed her legs on his shoulder and slightly bent forward to get better access to her pussy. He now started pounding slowly. Her anklets were brushing against his neck rhythmically with each stroke. With all the lubrication from their mutual love juices, mom's pussy had become smooth like butter. Allan was getting no resistance and mom's pussy had lovingly accommodated half of his manhood without any problem. Only a wet "plop plop" sound emanating rhythmically from their locked genitals. He increased his pace and so did the wonderful wet sound and the musky aroma. It was too much for me and I came hard again. Still only half of his dick was in.

I was quite impressed by Allan's stamina. This had been going on for more than an hour now and he was showing no signs of relenting. If the first round was a sprint, this was certainly a marathon and he was good at both. In fact I came 4 times in this duration. My mom was equally impressive in keeping up with Allan. They were indeed a pair made in heaven.

Allan grabbed her legs by the back of the knees and pushed them down to her so that her knees were touching the bed beside her face. Mom was very flexible due to her years of yoga. She had no problem spreading her legs like that and exposing her sex to Allan like a lotus bloom. Without saying a word Allan entered her and all of a sudden, furiously started ramming his oversized, enormous cock hard into her pussy. With his hands still holding her knees to the bed beside her face he slammed her hard so that her huge tits started bouncing uncontrollably. The thaali between her boobs was thrashing so violently as if it was about to fall off her neck. "Owww GOD It's So Big!!!!, ohh, ohh, ohhhhh, ohh my god don't stop, ah, ah, ahh, ahh!" She was whimpering in pain as he went faster and harder into her stretched pussy. Perhaps for the first time in the whole session, she felt the full length of Allan's dick and started screaming. I could see the whole 9 inches was fully in and probably ramming against her cervix.

In the first round, they both were so excited that they didn't get the chance to fully explore each other. Now that the initial excitement had settled, they were up for a long and hard fuck.

"Ohhh, Owww, ohh, oww, ohh, oww, oww, ohh God fuck me!!, fuck me hard, ohh ohh, ohh ohhhhh god ahhhhhhh, I'm Cumming!!!!, Oh My God I'm Cumming!!!" He just kept pounding into her swollen 38 year old mature pussy. Mom was having another orgasm god knows how many times. I simply lost count. Her hands were gripping the head board above her, her knees were touching the bed beside her face, and her huge tits were bouncing up and down with each thrust of his cock. She came all over him. But still no sign of him anywhere near cumming. The man was a fucking genius.

Allan kept on fucking mom at a steady cadence. Mom looked a bit subdued after her last orgasm, but quickly regained composure. Knees still touching the bed beside her face, her left hand found Allan's balls and she started caressing them again. The diamond on her wedding ring sparkled in the dimly lit room. My mom was fondling another man's balls while wearing the wedding ring given by my dad. Her thaali which was the symbol of her marital sanctity was lying unadorned by the side of her neck. With her left hand still fondling his balls, she put her right hand on his bare butt and gently pulled him towards her. She was inviting him to come inside her pussy.

But Allan had a different plan. He fucked her for few more minutes. At last he gave couple of mighty thrusts and suddenly withdrew and immediately started stroking his cock vigorously. He was nearing ejaculation. Mom put her feet back on his shoulder and locked them behind his neck. With his cock encapsulated between mom's thighs, Allan took last few strokes and the volcano erupted.

Three large ropes of his gooey cum erupted from his pisshole and landed on mom. The first one on her forehead and nose, smearing her kumkum. The second one on her cleavage and third one on her belly button. He still had more to release. He picked up her thaali and aimed his cockhead towards it. Last few shots of cum landed on it. Seeing that mom giggled. Allan chuckled and released his grip from his cock. His balls were now empty. And then mom did something I'd never had imagined. She raised her left hand and showed Allan her diamond studded wedding ring which my dad gave her at their wedding. She had been wearing that all those years faithfully. Now she no longer needed that as she got a new man in her life. Showing the ring, she smiled and winked at Allan. He got the clue. He grabbed her left hand with his right hand and positioned his half erect cock with his left. His piss hole is directly aiming over the diamond. Thick drops of cum started oozing out and fell onto the diamond. Mom started giggling to see this. She now wiped her forehead and nose with the back of her right hand. The cum smeared kumkum on the parting of her hair was now smudged across her forehead.

This was largely symbolic, but to me with this Allan finally completed his conquest of my mom and claimed his trophy from my dad. My mom became his lover. After this, mom's sex would never be satiated by my dad.

After jerking off countless times I was literally exhausted and didn't want to stay there to witness their sexual romp anymore. Perhaps they were also tired and wanted some rest.

Just before leaving, I had one last look at them. I saw them cuddling, kissing and caressing each other tenderly like two teenagers newly in love. I let them share their tender moment of love and affection and went off to my room. They were probably going to have a long night.

In bed I started rewinding the whole episode in my mind and in no time I dozed off.

[shivkajan]

Chapter 7

Next morning I woke up quite late. As it was a holiday, I had no rush to get up. Instead I wanted to play with my dick recalling last night's incidences. I was still reeling under some sort of stupor recalling mom and Allan's tryst from last night. My loyal and faithful mom finally gave in to her innate desire on her 38th birthday by mating with a man not her husband. She had taken a lover, the best gift for her birthday.

Finally, I got up from bed and went downstairs not sure how to face them. A range of emotions were playing through my mind. Happy that mom found someone in Allan she loves. Jealous that her priority from now on would be to make another man happy rather than dad or me, that her love would be shared and surely the lion's share would go to Allan. Above all I was aroused by the prospect of seeing the love birds together again, one of whom is my own mom.

I entered the kitchen gingerly and found mom was preparing breakfast. But there was no sign of Allan.

"Good morning, mom". I spoke.

"Morning". Mom replied without making eye contact.

She had taken a shower and was looking fresh in her robe. There were faint bite marks on the nape of her neck which she tried to conceal with her flowing hair.

"Where is Allan"? I asked.

"Oh, he has gone home". Mom replied, again without making eye contact. There is a palpable tension in the air.

This was getting a bit awkward. I didn't know how to respond. Should I pretend that I knew nothing about the night before and carried on as if nothing happened? That would be a blatant lie which would be impossible to keep up. Should I confront her? That would increase the tension and might cause irreparable damage in a mother-son relationship. Or should I tell her that I know everything and I'm totally okay with that? I decided on the latter.

"Mom, I know what happened last night between you and Allan and I wanted to tell you that I have no problem with that. You both are adults and have every right to enjoy your life the way you want. If you're happy, I'm happy for you too." I spat out. A big weight lifted off my shoulder.

Mom looked at me. Her countenance changed from being petrified to confusion to relief hearing that. Seeing that I got bolder.

"And I respect your decision if you want to ..... you know, with Allan". I gave her a smirk and a wink.

She giggled. I saw a mischief played across her face. Encouraged further, I spurted out "I'd like you to have fun with Allan. You deserve this mom and I'm not going to tell this to anyone. Your secret is safe with me. And I want you to know that I'm not going to judge you for whatever you do and my love for you is as strong as ever."

I thought the last few words really brightened her up. She gave me the same beautiful smile which could melt any heart. She came up to me and gave me kisses on either cheek with the same lips that were sucking Allan's cock last night. That gave me an instant boner.

"Thank you Siddharth for being so kind and understanding." Mom said giving me a long look. With that an unspoken agreement was reached. I would keep my mouth shut and go about my life as usual while she would continue her frolic with Allan.

"Your breakfast is ready". Saying that she went upstairs. I heard the door of her bedroom shut.

I was sitting in the kitchen eating my breakfast. A lot of thoughts started gathering in my mind. My relationship with my mother had changed forever. With the revelation, it had become more of a best friend type relationship rather than a mom-son one. Hopefully I'd become her best friend from now on and could discuss anything private with her and so did she. I hoped she would allow me to witness her capers and shenanigans without objection. Although a part of me was jealous by the fact that it was Allan who was going to be benefitted the most from this arrangement. He was the one who would enjoy my mom from now on and not my dad or myself. Strangely for the first time I felt a sudden sexual attraction towards mom.

It was a win-win situation for all except dad. Allan and mom would be frolicking with each other and I would be treated with all the voyeuristic pleasure. Dad was going to be the only loser. His wife of 20 years was taken by another man and his son was a secret accomplice.

With that thought I finished my breakfast. As soon as I left the kitchen, I heard the doorbell rang. I opened the front door to see dad was standing there. He returned from his tour.

"Happy new year, son" Dad grinned.

"Happy new year, dad." I replied with a big smile and gave him a bear hug.

[shivkajan]

Chapter 8

It was a quiet New Year lunch at home. Mom had prepared a simple yet tasty spread of lemon rice, sambar, potato fry and her special coconut chutney. Dad was in a surprisingly good mood despite the long flight from Phoenix and the fact that he had missed mom’s birthday. He kept praising the food and cracking his usual lame jokes, completely unaware of the faint musky smell of sex that still lingered in the master bedroom upstairs.

I sat across from mom, stealing glances whenever dad looked away. She had changed into a simple cream cotton saree with a matching blouse. The faint bite marks on the nape of her neck were hidden under her flowing shoulder-length hair. Every time she moved, her Thaali swayed gently between her 36D breasts, reminding me how wildly it had swung the previous night when she was riding Allan.

Dad wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned back in his chair, looking satisfied.

“You know what?” he said suddenly, his eyes lighting up. “We should celebrate the New Year properly tonight. It’s still the first day of the year. Let’s throw a small party at home. Nothing too fancy — just good food, some drinks and music.”

Mom froze mid-bite, her spoon hanging in the air. Her sparkling eyes widened slightly. She was clearly not expecting this.

“A party… tonight?” she asked in her soft Indian accent.

“Yes! Why not?” Dad continued enthusiastically. “We have been so busy settling down in this new country. Let’s start the year on a high note. Sid, what do you think, son?”

I did not hesitate even for a second.

“I think it’s a great idea, Dad,” I replied, trying to sound casual even though my heart had started beating faster. “We can order some nice food. And we should invite Allan. He was so helpful with mom’s birthday yesterday. It will be nice to have him over.”

The moment Allan’s name left my mouth, mom’s eyes flashed towards me. For a split second I saw pure surprise mixed with something else — nervousness, excitement, maybe even a hint of fear. Her mocha cheeks turned a shade darker. I held her gaze and gave her a small, knowing smirk.

She quickly looked down at her plate, but I noticed the corner of her lips twitch. She was trying hard not to smile.

Dad, completely oblivious, clapped his hands once.

“Perfect! Allan is such a nice gentleman. He has been very good to our family. I will call him right now.”

Mom shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Her fingers nervously played with the edge of her pallu.

“Won’t it be too sudden?” she said hesitantly. “He might already have plans for New Year’s night. And… it is the first of January. People usually celebrate with their own family or close friends.”

Dad waved his hand dismissively while already reaching for his phone.

“Nonsense. He is divorced and lives alone. I am sure he will be happy to join us. Sid, you also want Allan to come, right?”

I nodded firmly, still looking straight at mom.

“Yes, definitely. He made mom’s birthday special yesterday. It is only fair we return the favour.”

Mom’s eyes met mine again. This time the flash was sharper. A mix of embarrassment and unmistakable arousal. She knew exactly what I was doing. I smirked once more, bolder this time. Under the table I saw her thighs press together. The bangles on her wrist made a soft tinkling sound as her hand trembled slightly.

There was a moment of silence. Mom was clearly hesitating. The conservative Indian housewife in her was clashing with the memories of how she had moaned and begged under Allan’s massive white cock just last night. She bit her lower lip — the same lips that had been wrapped around his thick shaft only hours ago.

Finally, she let out a small sigh and gave a weak smile.

“Okay… if you both insist,” she said softly. “But please keep it simple. I don’t want to tire myself out again.”

Dad grinned widely and dialed Allan’s number. He put the phone on speaker.

“Hey Allan! Happy New Year, man!” Dad boomed cheerfully.

“Happy New Year, Sridhar!” Allan’s deep, confident voice filled the dining room. Just hearing that voice made mom sit a little straighter. Her chest rose and fell a bit faster.

Dad explained the party idea with great enthusiasm. When he mentioned inviting Allan over tonight, there was a short pause on the other end. I could almost picture the wicked smile spreading across Allan’s face.

“Tonight? At your place?” Allan asked, his tone playful. “I would love to come. But only if Amrutha is comfortable with it. I don’t want to impose.”

Dad looked at mom expectantly.

Mom hesitated for one more second, then spoke in her soft accented voice.

“Yes… please come, Allan. It will be nice.”

There was a low chuckle from Allan’s side.

“Then I’ll be there. What time?”

“Around 7:30?” Dad suggested.

“Perfect. I will bring some good wine and dessert. See you all soon.”

As soon as the call ended, dad looked thrilled.

“This is going to be fun!”

Mom stood up quietly to clear the plates. As she walked towards the kitchen, her round bubble butt swayed gently under the thin cotton saree. I noticed she was walking with a slight tenderness — clear evidence of how thoroughly Allan had stretched and used her the night before.

When dad went upstairs to freshen up, mom came back to the table to wipe it. She stopped beside me and whispered without looking directly at me.

“Siddharth… what are you doing?”

I looked up at her beautiful oval face, still glowing from last night’s multiple orgasms, and gave her the same knowing smirk.

“Just making sure you have a very happy new year, mom.”

Her sparkling eyes widened again, but this time a small, shy smile escaped her lips. She slowly shook her head, the diamond nose ring Allan had gifted her catching the light.

“You are becoming dangerous,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Then she walked away, her golden anklets making soft jingling sounds with every step, her Thaali swaying between her heavy breasts — the same breasts that had been sucked and marked by her tall white lover only hours earlier.

I leaned back in my chair, already feeling the familiar stirring in my pants.

The night was still young.

And Allan was coming.



Evening came quickly. By 7:15 pm the house smelled of the Indian-Chinese food we had ordered — chilli chicken, hakka noodles, vegetable manchurian and some fresh naan. Mom had changed into a beautiful maroon silk saree with a matching sleeveless blouse. She had dbangd it perfectly, the pallu hugging her curves and the saree tied low below her navel, showing a teasing glimpse of her smooth mocha midriff. The diamond nose ring Allan had gifted her sparkled under the lights, and her Thaali rested heavily between her 36D breasts. She had put on light makeup — just kohl in her sparkling eyes, a touch of lipstick and the usual pinch of kumkum in the parting of her hair. Her shoulder-length silky hair was left open, and the golden bangles and anklets completed the picture. She looked every bit the elegant, conservative Indian wife, yet the slight tenderness in her walk and the faint love bites hidden under her hair told a different story.

Dad was already on his second beer, laughing loudly at his own jokes. He had changed into a comfortable polo shirt and jeans, looking relaxed after his long trip.

At exactly 7:30 the doorbell rang. My heart jumped a little. I opened the door and there stood Allan in a crisp white shirt and dark jeans, towering at 6’3”, his athletic frame filling the doorway. He carried two bottles of red wine and a box of dessert.

“Hey Sid,” he said with that warm, confident smile. “Happy New Year again.”

He stepped in and immediately his eyes found mom. For a split second their gazes locked. I saw the spark again — the same unbridled lust from the yacht party. Mom quickly looked away, adjusting her pallu nervously.

“Amrutha… you look absolutely stunning,” Allan said in his deep voice, handing her the dessert box. His fingers brushed hers for a moment longer than necessary.

Mom took the box without meeting his eyes. “Thank you, Allan,” she replied softly, her Indian accent more pronounced than usual. “Please come in.”

Dad came forward and gave Allan a big hug, already sounding a bit louder than normal. “Allan! My man! Come, come. Let’s celebrate!”

We all moved to the dining table. Mom had set it nicely with candles and the food laid out. Dad insisted on opening the first bottle of wine immediately. He poured generously for himself and Allan, then looked at mom.

“Amrutha, a glass for you too?”

Mom hesitated. “Just a little,” she said. I could see she was trying to stay in control tonight. She didn’t want to repeat last night’s mistake.

We started eating. The conversation flowed easily at first — dad talking about his trip to Phoenix, the client issue, how grateful he was to Allan for trusting him. Allan listened politely, nodding, but his eyes kept drifting to mom. Every time she reached for something, the bangles on her wrist chimed softly. Every time she laughed at one of dad’s jokes, Allan’s gaze lingered on her lips, on the way her Thaali moved between her breasts.

I decided to create the first small opportunity.

“Dad, why don’t you show Allan that new scotch you brought from the duty-free?” I suggested midway through dinner. “I’ll help mom clear some plates.”

Dad’s face lit up. He was already on his third glass of wine and feeling the effect. “Good idea, Sid! Allan, you have to try this. Come, let’s go to the living room.”

As soon as they moved to the sofa with their drinks, I stayed back in the dining area with mom. She was stacking the plates quietly, avoiding my eyes.

“Mom…” I whispered.

She turned sharply. “Siddharth, please. Not now. Your father is home. Last night was… a mistake. It should not happen again.”

Her voice was low but firm. Yet I noticed how her fingers trembled slightly as she held the plates. The conservative housewife in her was fighting hard.

I just smiled and carried the plates to the kitchen without arguing.

When I returned, dad was already laughing loudly, his speech a little slurred. The scotch was working fast. Allan sat relaxed on the sofa, one arm stretched along the backrest, looking completely in control.

“Amrutha, come sit with us,” dad called out. “Don’t be busy with work. It’s New Year!”

Mom came and sat on the single sofa, keeping a safe distance. But Allan patted the space next to him on the main sofa.

“Come here, Amrutha. There’s plenty of room.”

Mom hesitated for a long second. Dad was already pouring himself another drink and didn’t notice. I quickly spoke up.

“Yes mom, sit comfortably. I’ll put on some music.”

I switched on the music system and played soft Bollywood numbers at low volume. Mom finally moved and sat beside Allan, but she kept her body stiff, pallu tightly wrapped around her. Allan’s arm was now almost touching her shoulder.

Dad was getting visibly tipsy. His eyes were droopy, and he kept repeating the same stories from Phoenix. Every few minutes he would laugh at nothing in particular.

I created the next opportunity.

“Dad, you look tired from the flight. Why don’t you sit back and relax? I’ll get you some water,” I said, standing up.

While I was in the kitchen, I took my time. When I returned, Allan had shifted closer to mom. His knee was almost touching hers under the low coffee table. Mom was trying to move away subtly, but there was nowhere to go. She kept her eyes on the floor, fingers playing nervously with her bangles. The soft chiming sound filled the small silence between dad’s slurred words.

Allan leaned in slightly and whispered something to her. I couldn’t hear it, but I saw mom’s cheeks flush deep red. She shook her head very slightly — a clear “no”.

Dad suddenly yawned loudly. “Ahhh… the flight has really tired me out. Maybe I should lie down for a bit.”

Perfect, I thought.

“Dad, why don’t you go to the bedroom and rest for half an hour? We’ll call you when it’s time for dessert,” I suggested immediately.

Dad didn’t need much convincing. He was already half-drunk. “Yes… just a quick nap. You kids enjoy.” He stood up unsteadily and patted Allan on the shoulder. “Take care of my family, Allan.”

As soon as dad disappeared upstairs, the tension in the room became thick enough to cut with a knife.

Mom immediately stood up. “I think I should check on the dessert,” she said, her voice slightly shaky. She walked towards the kitchen, her round bubble butt swaying under the maroon silk, anklets jingling.

Allan’s eyes followed her hungrily. He looked at me and raised an eyebrow with a small smirk.

I smirked back but said nothing. I wanted to see how far mom would resist tonight.

The slow game had begun again.

And this time, with dad sleeping upstairs, the contrast felt even stronger — my petite, conservative Indian mother in her traditional silk saree trying desperately to stay faithful, while the tall, muscular white man who had already claimed her once sat just a few feet away, waiting patiently for the next opening.

The night was far from over.



The soft Bollywood music continued to play in the background, filling the living room with a slow, romantic melody. Mom had disappeared into the kitchen, but I could hear the faint clinking of plates and her anklets as she moved around. Allan sat relaxed on the sofa, his long legs stretched out, one arm still dbangd casually along the backrest. His athletic build looked even more imposing in the warm light of the room — broad shoulders straining slightly against his white shirt, tattoos peeking from the rolled-up sleeves. He took a slow sip of his wine, his eyes fixed on the kitchen doorway with clear hunger.

I stayed on the single sofa, pretending to scroll through my phone, but my ears were alert to every sound. My heart was beating faster again. The same strange excitement I had felt on mom’s birthday was returning — the thrill of watching my beautiful Indian mother struggle between her loyalty to dad and the pull of this tall white man who had already tasted her.

After a couple of minutes, mom came out carrying a tray with bowls of dessert — gulab jamun and rasmalai that she had prepared earlier. She had adjusted her pallu tightly over her chest, covering as much as possible. Her face looked composed, but I could see the slight flush on her bright mocha skin and the way her fingers gripped the tray a little too firmly. The diamond nose ring sparkled as she walked, and her Thaali swayed gently with each step, reminding everyone (especially Allan) of her married status.

“Here, have some dessert,” she said softly, placing the tray on the coffee table without looking directly at Allan. She sat back on the sofa, but this time she made sure to keep a noticeable gap between herself and him, pulling her legs closer to her side and dbanging the pallu neatly over her lap.

Allan smiled warmly, his childlike grin contrasting sharply with the lust in his blue eyes. “Thank you, Amrutha. Everything looks delicious… just like you.”

Mom’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second. She quickly looked down and gave a small, polite smile. “Please eat,” she replied, her voice steady but lower than usual. She picked up a small bowl for herself and started eating slowly, clearly trying to stay busy and avoid conversation.

Allan took a bowl but didn’t eat immediately. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, his powerful frame closing some of the distance. “The saree looks beautiful on you tonight. That deep maroon really brings out your skin tone. So exotic.”

Mom’s bangles chimed softly as she adjusted her pallu again, pulling it higher to cover the deep neckline of her blouse. “Thank you,” she murmured, keeping her eyes on her dessert. She was avoiding his gaze completely now, her conservative upbringing winning the battle for the moment. I could see the tension in her petite 5’4” body — shoulders slightly stiff, thighs pressed together under the silk.

I decided to push things just a little. “Mom, why don’t you sit more comfortably? The sofa is big enough. And Allan, pass mom some more wine. She barely had any during dinner.”

Mom shot me a quick, sharp look — her sparkling eyes flashing with warning. “No, Siddharth. I am fine. I don’t want more wine tonight.”

Allan chuckled softly, the sound deep and confident. He poured a small amount into his own glass anyway and held it out towards her. “Just one sip, Amrutha. For the New Year. It’s bad luck to refuse on the first day.”

Mom hesitated, her fingers tightening around the edge of her pallu. The contrast was striking — her small, delicate brown hand with its gold bangles against the tall white man’s large palm offering the wine. She finally took the glass but only touched it to her lips for a tiny sip before setting it down quickly.

“Thank you,” she said firmly, then turned her attention back to the dessert, eating in small bites as if it required all her concentration.

The room fell into a heavy silence broken only by the music and the occasional clink of spoons. Dad’s loud snoring could now be heard faintly from upstairs — he was deep in his drunken sleep. The knowledge that he was out cold just a floor above made the air feel thicker, more dangerous.

Allan wasn’t giving up easily. He shifted a little closer on the sofa, his knee now lightly brushing against the edge of mom’s saree. “You know, Amrutha,” he said in a low, intimate voice, “last night was incredible. You were… unforgettable.”

Mom’s spoon froze midway to her mouth. Her mocha cheeks turned a deeper shade. She placed the spoon down carefully and finally looked at him, her expression a mix of nervousness and quiet resolve.

“Allan, please,” she whispered, glancing quickly towards the stairs. “Last night was a mistake. Sridhar is home now. I am his wife. We cannot… I cannot do that again. Siddharth is also here.”

Her voice was soft but carried the weight of her traditional values. The Thaali on her neck seemed to shine brighter, a constant reminder of her marriage. She adjusted her pallu once more, making sure every inch of her cleavage and midriff was properly covered. Her bubble butt shifted slightly on the sofa as she tried to create more distance, the silk whispering against the cushion.

Allan leaned in even closer, his tall frame towering over her even while seated. His athletic arm rested casually on the back of the sofa behind her shoulders, not touching yet, but close enough that she could feel his presence. The strong contrast between his pale white skin and her bright mocha complexion was impossible to ignore — his muscular forearm with visible veins next to her delicate, saree-clad shoulder.

“I understand,” he said gently, though his eyes betrayed the hunger. “I’m not rushing you. But you can’t deny how good it felt. Your body responded so beautifully to me.”

Mom’s breathing quickened. I could see her chest rising and falling faster under the blouse, the Thaali moving with each breath. She bit her lower lip again, fighting the memories. “Please, Allan. Not tonight. Not when Sridhar is upstairs. It is wrong.”

She stood up suddenly, smoothing her saree with both hands. The bangles and anklets jingled together in the quiet room. “I think I should check if Sridhar needs anything. Excuse me.”

As she walked past the sofa towards the stairs, Allan’s eyes followed the sway of her perfect round “O”-shaped ass under the maroon silk. The pallu slipped slightly from her shoulder for a moment, revealing the deep cut of her sleeveless blouse and the smooth curve of her back before she quickly adjusted it.

I stayed seated, my own pulse racing. Mom was resisting hard tonight — the loyal Indian housewife refusing to make the same “mistake” again. But the tension was building slowly, like a coil being wound tighter. Allan was patient, confident, and clearly enjoying the chase. He gave me a small, knowing glance and took another sip of his wine, his muscular body relaxed but ready.

Mom disappeared upstairs for a few minutes. When she came back down, her face looked more composed, but her eyes still carried that inner conflict. She sat back on the sofa, this time choosing the single seat farther away, crossing her legs primly.

The slow game continued.

Dad’s snoring echoed faintly from above.

And Allan’s hungry gaze never left my mother’s petite, curvaceous form wrapped in that traditional silk saree.





Mom returned from upstairs after checking on dad and sat down on the single sofa, deliberately choosing the seat farthest from Allan. She crossed her legs primly, smoothing the maroon silk saree over her thighs with both hands. The pallu was pulled high and tight across her chest, covering every possible inch of skin. Her golden anklets made a soft, deliberate jingle as she adjusted her posture, as if reminding everyone — and herself — of her proper place as a married Indian woman.

Allan remained seated on the main sofa, his tall, athletic frame relaxed but commanding. He took another slow sip of red wine, his blue eyes never leaving her. The contrast between them was striking even in the dim living room light — his pale white skin and powerful build against her petite 5’4” mocha-coloured body wrapped conservatively in silk. His muscular arm rested casually along the back of the sofa, tattoos visible, while mom’s delicate hands with their gold bangles rested neatly in her lap.

“Amrutha,” Allan said in his deep, warm voice, breaking the silence, “you haven’t touched your wine. It’s New Year’s night. One more glass won’t hurt.”

Mom shook her head gently, not meeting his eyes. “No, thank you, Allan. I have had enough. I need to keep a clear head tonight.” Her Indian accent was soft but firm. She picked up her bowl of rasmalai again and took a small bite, focusing entirely on the dessert as if it was the most important thing in the world.

Allan smiled, that childlike grin spreading across his face, but his eyes held something far less innocent. He poured a little more wine into his own glass and leaned forward slightly, closing some of the distance between them. “You know, that nose ring I got you looks even better tonight. It suits your face perfectly… makes you look even more beautiful. Exotic.”

Mom’s cheeks flushed a deeper mocha shade. Her fingers instinctively touched the small diamond stud on her left nostril for a second before she lowered her hand. “It is just a piece of jewellery,” she replied quietly, still avoiding his gaze. “Thank you again for the gift, but please… let us talk about something else.”

I sat quietly on the other side, watching everything. The slow tension was building beautifully. Mom was being extremely careful — every movement calculated to maintain distance and dignity. Yet her body betrayed tiny signs: the way her bangles chimed when her hands trembled slightly, the quick rise and fall of her chest under the tightly wrapped pallu, and the occasional nervous lick of her lips.

Allan wasn’t deterred. He shifted a little on the sofa, his long legs stretching out so that his knee was now only inches from where her saree-covered foot rested on the floor. “Remember how we danced at the yacht party?” he continued in a low, teasing voice. “You moved so gracefully in that blue chiffon saree. Your waist… so soft under my hand. And last night…” He let the words hang in the air for a moment. “You felt incredible in my arms. So warm. So responsive.”

Mom’s spoon paused halfway to her mouth. She placed it down carefully, her sparkling eyes finally lifting to meet his for just a second before dropping again. “Allan, please stop,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the soft music. “Last night was a one-time mistake. Sridhar is sleeping upstairs. Siddharth is right here. I am a married woman. This is not right. I cannot… I will not repeat it.”

Her words were firm, but there was a slight breathlessness in them. She adjusted her pallu once more, pulling it higher until it almost reached her neck, hiding the deep neckline of her sleeveless blouse completely. The Thaali chain glittered against the maroon silk, a constant symbol of her loyalty to dad.

Allan chuckled softly, the sound low and confident. He leaned back but kept his eyes locked on her. “I’m not asking you to do anything tonight, Amrutha. I’m just reminding you how good it felt. How your body trembled when I touched you here…” He made a small gesture with his fingers near his own chest, mimicking the way he had cupped her breasts the night before. “…and how you moaned when I was inside you.”

Mom’s entire face turned red. She pressed her thighs together tightly under the saree and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Her golden anklets jingled as she moved her feet farther away from him. “Allan, enough,” she said, her voice a little sharper now, though still quiet. “I am not that kind of woman. I have a husband and a son. Please respect that.”

She stood up suddenly, the silk saree whispering against her curves. “I think I should warm up some more food. Excuse me.”

As she walked towards the kitchen, her perfect round bubble butt swayed gently under the maroon silk, the pallu slipping just a little from her shoulder before she quickly caught and readjusted it. Allan’s eyes followed every movement hungrily, tracing the curve of her waist and the way the saree hugged her thick yet shapely hips.

I stayed silent, my own excitement growing. Mom was resisting with all her might — carefully avoiding any physical closeness, refusing more wine, and shutting down every teasing comment. The conservative Indian housewife was firmly back in control, or at least trying very hard to be.

Allan turned his head towards me with a small, patient smirk. He wasn’t angry or frustrated. If anything, he looked even more amused and determined, like a hunter enjoying the slow chase.

Mom returned a few minutes later with a plate of reheated chilli chicken, placing it on the table without sitting down again. She remained standing near the single sofa, keeping the coffee table as a barrier between her and Allan.

“Would you like some more, Allan?” she asked politely, her tone formal and distant.

Allan’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “I would love some more… but not just of the chicken.”

Mom’s lips pressed into a thin line. She ignored the double meaning completely and served him a small portion on a fresh plate, her bangles chiming with every careful movement. Then she sat back down on the far edge of the single sofa, crossing her arms under her pallu to keep it securely in place.

The teasing continued in small, subtle ways — Allan complimenting the way her hair fell over her shoulder, asking if she still remembered how his hands felt on her bare waist, mentioning how her moans sounded like music. Each time, mom responded with short, polite deflections or complete silence, refusing to engage, refusing to drink more, and keeping her body language closed and proper.

Yet the air in the room grew heavier with every passing minute.

Dad’s snoring continued faintly from upstairs.

Mom’s careful resistance only made the slow burn even hotter — the petite, saree-clad Indian beauty fighting desperately to stay faithful, while the tall, muscular white man sat patiently teasing her, confident that the walls she was building would eventually crack.



The clock on the wall showed it was already past 11:30 pm. The soft Bollywood music had been playing on repeat for a while, but the romantic numbers only added to the thick, unspoken tension in the living room. Dad’s snoring from upstairs remained steady and loud — he was deep in his drunken sleep and showed no signs of waking up anytime soon.

Mom had stayed careful the entire evening. She kept her distance, sitting primly on the single sofa with her legs crossed and the pallu of her maroon silk saree wrapped tightly around her upper body like a shield. Every time Allan tried to tease her with a low, intimate comment about last night or how beautiful she looked, she would respond with short, polite answers or complete silence, her sparkling eyes looking down at her hands or the floor. She refused any more wine, sipped only water, and made sure the coffee table stayed between them like a barrier. Her golden bangles chimed softly whenever she adjusted her pallu or shifted in her seat, a constant reminder of her conservative, married status.

Allan, however, continued his patient teasing. He would lean forward occasionally, his tall athletic frame making the sofa look smaller, and compliment the way the silk hugged her curves, or mention how her bubble butt had felt in his hands the previous night. Each time, mom’s mocha cheeks would flush deeper, but she never gave in. She would simply say, “Allan, please. Let us talk about something else,” or stand up to “check on something in the kitchen,” keeping her movements measured and proper. The diamond nose ring he had gifted her sparkled every time she moved her head, but she made no effort to engage with his words.

I watched everything quietly from my seat, my heart racing with that familiar mix of excitement and nervousness. The strong contrast between them was impossible to ignore — my petite Indian mother in her traditional silk saree, looking every bit the loyal housewife with her Thaali, kumkum, and bangles, versus the tall, muscular white man with his confident smile and hidden tattoos, who had already claimed her body once.

Finally, Allan glanced at his watch and let out a small sigh. “It’s getting late,” he said, stretching his long arms. “I should head out. Thank you for the lovely evening, Amrutha. The food was excellent… and the company even better.”

Mom stood up immediately, relief clearly visible on her oval face. “Yes, it is quite late. Thank you for coming, Allan,” she replied in her soft accented voice, keeping her tone formal and distant. She adjusted her pallu one final time, making sure it covered her completely, and walked towards the door without looking at him directly.

Allan got up slowly, his 6’3” frame towering over everything. He shook my hand firmly, his palm swallowing mine completely. “Good night, Sid. Take care.”

Then he turned to mom. For a moment he stood close — too close — looking down at her petite form. Mom kept her eyes lowered, her hands clasped in front of her. Allan opened his arms slightly for a goodbye hug.

Mom hesitated, then gave him a very quick, stiff hug — her body barely touching his, her hands barely resting on his sides before she pulled away. “Good night, Allan,” she said quickly, stepping back and adjusting her pallu again.

Allan smiled, clearly amused by her careful resistance. He leaned in just a little and whispered something in her ear — I couldn’t hear it, but mom’s eyes widened for a split second and her cheeks flushed once more. She didn’t reply, only nodded politely and opened the front door for him.

“Drive safely,” she said, her voice steady.

Allan gave her one last long look, his blue eyes tracing her saree-clad figure from head to toe, lingering on the sway of her hips and the way the silk clung to her thick waist and round ass. “I will. Happy New Year again, Amrutha. I hope we can do this again soon.”

With that, he stepped out into the cold Canadian night. The door closed behind him with a soft click.

The house suddenly felt quieter. Mom stood near the door for a few seconds, letting out a long breath she seemed to have been holding the entire evening. She turned around and looked at me. Her sparkling eyes carried a mix of relief, lingering nervousness, and perhaps a tiny hint of guilt.

“Siddharth… go to bed now. It is late,” she said softly, avoiding any deeper conversation.

She walked upstairs slowly, her anklets jingling with each step, the maroon silk saree swaying around her bubble butt. I watched her disappear into the master bedroom, where dad was still snoring loudly.

I sat alone in the living room for a while, the music still playing faintly. The strong scent of her perfume mixed with the faint aroma of wine and food lingered in the air. Allan had left, but the slow tension he had built with his teasing remained heavy in the house. Mom had successfully avoided making the same mistake tonight — she had stayed careful, proper, and loyal on the surface.

But deep down, I wondered how long her resistance would last.

[shivkajan]

Chapter 9



The weeks following New Year’s passed in a strange, slow rhythm. Dad continued his demanding schedule — early mornings at the bank and frequent overnight trips to the Phoenix office. Allan still visited the house regularly, but mom remained extremely careful. She never allowed things to go too far whenever dad was in the city. There were no full sessions with Allan yet. No long afternoons in the master bedroom. No repeat of the passionate night on her birthday.

She was still fighting hard to stay loyal on the surface.

But even without crossing that final line again, subtle changes began appearing in her.

At first they were small. Mom started paying more attention to her body. She increased her daily yoga sessions from one hour to almost two. She began eating cleaner and drinking more water. Within a few weeks the results started showing. Her petite 5’4” frame, which had already been attractive, began to tone up noticeably. The tiny layer of softness that had settled around her waist after childbirth started melting away. Her thighs became firmer, the slight cellulite that used to appear on the back of her thighs and lower ass when she wore tight clothes gradually disappeared. Her bubble butt, already perfectly round like an “O”, now looked even tighter and more lifted. Her belly became flatter, with just the soft feminine curve that made her look younger and sexier.

She looked happier too. There was a new glow on her bright mocha skin. Her sparkling eyes seemed brighter, and she smiled more freely. She carried herself with a quiet confidence that had been missing before. People at the local Indian grocery store or the mall started noticing her more. Even dad once commented that she was looking “especially beautiful these days.”

Her clothing choices also began to shift slowly.

She still wore sarees at home when dad was around, but when he was away on trips, she started experimenting with more trendy Western outfits. Fitted jeans that hugged her now-toned ass and thighs, stylish blouses and tops with slightly lower necklines, and knee-length summer dresses that showed off her smooth, firm legs. She carried them surprisingly well. The conservative Indian housewife was slowly transforming into a confident hot mom, and she looked stunning in these new clothes. The diamond nose ring Allan had gifted her became a regular part of her look, adding an extra touch of sensuality to her oval face.

Her private wardrobe changed even more dramatically.

One afternoon when dad was away, I walked into the master bedroom to return some clothes and noticed her underwear drawer was open. Instead of the plain cotton panties and sensible bras she used to wear, I saw rows of skimpy lace thongs, sheer G-strings, and sexy push-up bras in black, red, and maroon. Almost all her old underwear had disappeared. She had started visiting the bikini waxing parlour regularly too. Sometimes I was the one who drove her there. She would go in with her usual shy smile and come out after forty-five minutes looking fresh and smooth. On the drive back she would casually mention that she had gone for a full Brazilian this time, leaving only a small landing strip.

Knowing that I was completely on her side and would never judge or tell dad, mom stopped hiding these changes from me.

One evening, after Allan had left following a long evening of teasing conversation, mom came downstairs wearing only a short silk robe. She had just taken a shower. She sat beside me on the sofa and, without any hesitation, opened the front of the robe slightly.

“Look what I got done today,” she said softly, a mix of shyness and pride in her voice.

On the upper mound of her left breast, right above her dark brown nipple, was a delicate new butterfly tattoo — small, colourful wings in shades of blue and purple. It looked beautiful against her bright mocha skin. When she turned around and lowered the robe a little more, I saw the second tattoo — a graceful mermaid with flowing hair and a colourful tail that started just above the curve of her firm round ass and curved elegantly across her lower back.

“Do you like them?” she asked, turning slowly so I could see both tattoos clearly.

“They look really sexy, mom,” I replied, unable to take my eyes off the way the butterfly moved every time her heavy breast shifted, and how the mermaid seemed to dance on her toned lower back.

She smiled and tied the robe back. “Allan suggested them. He said they would make me look more… modern. Like a hot mom instead of just a regular Indian housewife.”

She indeed looked a lot sexier now. The combination of regular yoga, the secret physical tension from Allan’s teasing touches and kisses, and her new confidence had transformed her. Her legs looked longer and firmer, her waist had become nicely defined, and her bubble butt had a new bounce when she walked. The Thaali still hung between her breasts and the kumkum was still in her hair parting, but now they sat alongside skimpy thongs, sexy tattoos, and the confident way she carried herself.

Whenever Allan visited, the teasing continued — slow, patient, and full of tension. He would compliment her new toned figure, trace his fingers lightly over her lower back near the mermaid tattoo when dad wasn’t looking, or whisper how much he wanted to see her in nothing but the new thong and her Thaali. Mom would blush deeply, adjust her pallu or top nervously, and firmly tell him “Not yet” or “We cannot do that again while Sridhar is here.”

She was still resisting the full session.

She had not yet surrendered her body completely to Allan again.

But the changes in her appearance, her wardrobe, and her confidence showed that the slow transformation had already begun. The demure, saree-clad Indian housewife was quietly turning into a confident, sexy hot mom — one who was clearly preparing herself, body and mind, for the day when she would no longer be able to say no.

And I was there, watching every step of it.

[shivkajan]

Chapter 10





More than a month had passed since that tense New Year’s night when Allan left our house after the party. In all that time, Allan had not gotten many chances with mom. She was being extremely careful now — fiercely determined not to wreck her marriage or let things spiral out of control again. Whenever dad was in the city, she kept her distance from Allan completely. Even when dad was away on his Phoenix trips, she would only allow Allan to visit for short evening chats in the living room. There were stolen kisses sometimes when I was not looking, a few lingering hugs where Allan’s big white hands would rest on her round ass for a second too long, and whispered teasing words that made her blush deeply. But nothing more. No full sessions in the master bedroom. No long afternoons of passionate lovemaking. Mom had drawn a firm line, and she was sticking to it.

I didn’t get many chances either. The master bedroom door stayed properly closed now, and the “broken” lock had mysteriously been fixed one weekend when dad was home. Still, I didn’t stop checking. Every time mom went for a shower or left the house, I would quietly open her laundry basket and go through her panties. I would hold the crotch of each one to my nose, searching for any tell-tale signs — a hint of Allan’s cum, her juices mixed with his, or even just the musky scent of recent sex. But there were none. Just the familiar smell of her own arousal and the faint fragrance of her expensive body wash. She was staying clean. She was staying careful.

Spring had finally arrived in Toronto. The snow had melted completely, the trees were budding with fresh green leaves, and the air felt warm and hopeful. Flowers bloomed in our small backyard, and the sunlight streamed through the windows with a brighter, happier glow. Mom seemed to bloom along with the season. Her body, already toned from the secret excitement of the past months and her daily yoga, looked even more radiant. The tiny cellulite on her thighs and bubble butt had vanished completely. Her waist was now nicely defined, her legs looked longer and firmer, and her 36D breasts sat higher and prouder on her chest. She looked younger, happier, and undeniably sexier.

One warm Saturday afternoon in early April, the phone rang while mom was in the kitchen preparing lunch. I picked it up.

“Hey Sid, it’s Allan,” his deep, confident voice boomed cheerfully. “How’s my favourite young man doing?”

We had grown closer over the past month. Allan had started calling me more often, asking about college, my plans, even offering to help me with some finance-related topics since dad was busy. He treated me like a younger friend rather than just his employee’s son. I liked it. It made the whole secret game feel even more thrilling.

“I’m good, Allan. What’s up?”

“I was thinking… spring is here, the golf courses are opening up. I want to invite your whole family for a golfing session next weekend. It’ll be fun. Sridhar can join too if he’s free. You and I can teach your mom the basics since it’s your first time. What do you say?”

I felt a spark of excitement. Golf meant an entire day outdoors, away from home, in a relaxed setting. Plenty of chances for subtle teasing.

“Sounds great! Let me check with mom and dad.”

Dad was home that weekend and surprisingly agreed immediately. He had played golf a few times in India and liked the idea of trying it in Canada. Mom, however, hesitated when I told her.

“Golf? Me?” she said, wiping her hands on her apron. She was wearing a simple yellow cotton saree that clung nicely to her toned figure. “I don’t know anything about golf, Siddharth. And I don’t have proper clothes for it.”

Before I could reply, Allan called again that evening and spoke directly to her. His voice was warm and persuasive on speakerphone.

“Come on, Amrutha. It will be fun. No pressure. We’ll just enjoy the fresh air and the green grass. Sid and I will take care of everything. You’ll look beautiful even in golf clothes.”

Mom blushed but finally agreed, though her voice was still cautious. “Okay… but only if it is simple.”

The next day, Allan called me privately.

“Sid, since it’s your first time and your mom’s too, let’s do this properly. I’ll take you shopping tomorrow for proper golf wear. For all of us. We’ll pick something nice for Amrutha too. She deserves to feel comfortable… and look stunning.”

I agreed instantly.

The following afternoon, Allan picked me up in his big SUV. We drove to a high-end sports and golf store in the city. The spring sun was warm, and the store was busy with people getting ready for the season. Allan walked with his usual confident stride, towering over everyone at 6’3”. His athletic body looked even more imposing in a casual polo and shorts.

We started with the men’s section. Allan helped me choose a fitted navy blue golf polo that showed off my slim build and a pair of light grey golf pants that were comfortable yet stylish. He picked a similar outfit for himself — a white polo that clung to his broad chest and washboard abs, and black pants that made his long legs look even more powerful. The contrast between his pale white skin and the dark clothes was striking.

Then we moved to the women’s section. Allan’s eyes lit up as we browsed the racks of golf skirts, fitted tops, and visors.

“Your mom has such a beautiful figure now,” he said quietly, picking up a white sleeveless golf polo with a deep V-neck. “This will look incredible on her mocha skin. The neckline is perfect — not too revealing, but enough to show a hint of her cleavage when she bends to putt.”

He held it against his own chest for a moment, imagining. I felt that familiar stir.

Next, he selected a pleated golf skirt in soft pastel pink — short enough to show off her toned, firm thighs and the smooth curve of her bubble butt, but still appropriate for the course. “She has those sexy legs now,” he whispered with a wicked smile. “This skirt will hug her ass perfectly when she swings. And look — it has built-in shorts underneath so she won’t feel too exposed.”

We kept going. Allan was creative and thoughtful. He picked a light sun visor in white with a pink trim to match the skirt, a pair of stylish white golf shoes with pink accents, and even a thin cardigan in case it got chilly in the evening. He also chose a set of delicate gold anklets with tiny bells — “so every time she walks on the green, we’ll hear that sweet jingling sound you love.”

I couldn’t help but smile. We stood together in front of the mirror, holding the complete outfit against me as if mom was there. The white polo would contrast beautifully with her bright mocha skin, the pink skirt would accentuate her round “O”-shaped ass and toned thighs, and the whole look would make her look like a confident, sexy hot mom on the golf course — still elegant, still Indian, but with that new modern edge she had been developing.

Allan paid for everything without letting me argue. As we walked out of the store with the bags, he put a heavy arm around my shoulder.

“This is going to be a great day, Sid. Your mom in that outfit… damn. The contrast between her petite brown body and the green grass is going to be something else. And you and I will be right there, watching every swing.”

He dropped me home with a knowing grin. “Tell Amrutha I can’t wait to see her in this.”

That night, when I showed mom the bags, her eyes widened. She held up the pink pleated skirt and the white polo, turning them slowly in her hands. The fabric looked soft and expensive.

“Siddharth… this is too much,” she said softly, but there was a small, excited sparkle in her eyes. She pressed the skirt against her waist, imagining how it would look on her toned lower body. “Allan chose this?”

I nodded. “We chose it together. You’ll look beautiful, mom.”

She bit her lower lip, the same way she did when she was fighting her desires. She was still being careful — very careful — not to wreck her marriage. But the new clothes, the upcoming golf day, and the slow, patient way Allan was weaving himself deeper into our lives were clearly stirring something inside her again.

Spring had brought more than just flowers to Toronto.

It had brought new possibilities.





After finishing the last hole, we all headed back to the clubhouse as the afternoon sun began to soften into a golden evening glow. The golf course looked beautiful in the spring light, with long shadows stretching across the green. Dad was in a cheerful, slightly unsteady mood. He had been drinking beer steadily from the cart throughout the session and was now quite tipsy. His face was flushed, and he kept laughing loudly at his own jokes, slapping Allan on the back repeatedly.

“Come on, let’s have a few drinks at the clubhouse before we head home,” Dad suggested, his voice a little slurred. “It’s been a great day. We deserve it.”

Mom looked hesitant. She was still flushed from the sun and the constant subtle teasing from Allan on the course. Her white sleeveless polo clung slightly to her toned body from light sweat, the deep V-neck showing a tempting hint of her mocha cleavage. The pink pleated skirt swayed around her firm thighs as she walked, and her golden anklets continued their soft jingling with every step. She adjusted the hem of her skirt nervously, trying to pull it down a little.

“I think we should go home,” she said softly in her accented voice. “Sridhar, you have already had enough.”

But Dad waved his hand dismissively. “Arre, just one or two drinks, Amrutha. It’s spring! Come on, Allan, you’re joining us, right?”

Allan smiled his warm, confident smile and nodded. “Of course. I’ll drive everyone home later so no one has to worry.”

We settled at a quiet corner table on the clubhouse patio overlooking the course. The evening air was pleasant and cool. Dad ordered another round of beer for himself and Allan, and insisted mom have a glass of white wine. Mom refused at first, but after some gentle persuasion from both Dad and Allan, she finally agreed to just one small glass “to celebrate the day.”

As the drinks arrived, Dad quickly became even more talkative and drunk. He kept praising Allan for organizing the day, talking about work, the Phoenix office, and how lucky he was to have such a good boss and friend. His eyes grew droopy, and his laughter grew louder. He barely noticed how Allan’s attention kept drifting to mom.

Mom sat carefully between Dad and me, keeping as much distance as possible from Allan. She sipped her wine very slowly, clearly determined to stay in control. The white polo stretched gently across her 36D breasts every time she leaned forward, and the butterfly tattoo on the mound of her left breast remained hidden just beneath the fabric. Her toned mocha legs were crossed primly under the table, the pink skirt riding up slightly on her thighs. Every time she shifted, her golden anklets made that delicate jingling sound.

Allan, sitting directly opposite her, was relaxed and patient. His tall athletic frame looked powerful even while seated. He kept the conversation light at first — complimenting mom on how well she had played, how graceful her swing was, and how the pink skirt suited her figure perfectly.

“You looked so elegant on the green today, Amrutha,” he said in his deep voice, his blue eyes locked on hers. “That skirt really shows off your beautiful legs and that toned ass of yours. Every time you bent to putt… it was quite a view.”

Mom’s cheeks turned a deeper mocha shade. She quickly looked down at her wine glass and tugged the hem of her skirt lower under the table. “Allan, please,” she whispered, her voice firm but quiet so Dad wouldn’t hear. “Not here. Sridhar is right here.”

Dad, however, was already too drunk to pay much attention. He was laughing at something on his phone and ordering another beer, his head nodding slightly.

Allan leaned forward slightly, his powerful white arms resting on the table. “I’m just being honest. You’ve become even sexier these past weeks. That yoga and… everything else… has done wonders for your body. I can’t stop thinking about how soft your skin felt the last time I touched you.”

Mom pressed her thighs together tightly and adjusted her visor, avoiding his gaze. She took a small sip of wine, her bangles chiming softly. The Thaali between her breasts moved with her quickened breathing. She was being extremely careful — refusing to engage, keeping her body language closed, and making sure there was no physical contact. But the slow teasing was clearly affecting her. Her nipples had stiffened slightly under the thin polo, creating faint outlines against the white fabric.

I sat quietly, watching everything. The contrast was striking and arousing: my petite, conservative Indian mother in her trendy golf outfit, still wearing her traditional Thaali, kumkum, and golden jewellery, trying desperately to remain a loyal wife, while the tall, muscular white man across from her patiently teased her with words and lingering looks, knowing he had already tasted her once and was waiting for the next opportunity.

As the sun began to set, Dad was properly drunk. He could barely sit straight and kept yawning loudly.

“Allan… my friend… you are the best,” he mumbled. “Can you drive us home? I think I had one too many.”

Allan nodded smoothly. “No problem at all, Sridhar. I’ll take care of everything.”

We helped Dad into the back seat of Allan’s big SUV. He slumped against the window almost immediately, his eyes closing as the engine started. Mom sat in the front passenger seat, while I sat in the back next to Dad. The drive home was quiet at first. The spring evening air flowed through the slightly open windows.

Allan kept one hand on the wheel, but his other hand occasionally drifted toward the center console, brushing lightly against mom’s arm or thigh when he changed gears. Each time, mom would shift away slightly, pulling her pink skirt down and keeping her hands folded in her lap.

“You were the highlight of the day, Amrutha,” Allan said softly once we were on the highway. “That outfit on your toned body… the way your ass moved in that skirt when you walked… I’ve been hard most of the day thinking about it.”

Mom turned her head toward the window, her voice low and controlled. “Allan, stop. My husband is in the car. I told you I am being careful. This cannot continue like this.”

Allan only chuckled deeply, his eyes flicking between the road and her profile. “I know you’re trying to be good. But your body is changing, Amrutha. It’s getting ready for me again. You can’t hide how much you enjoyed it last time.”

Mom stayed silent after that, staring out at the passing lights, her fingers nervously playing with her bangles. The ride felt long and heavy with tension. Dad snored softly in the back seat, completely unaware.

When we finally reached home, Allan helped me get Dad inside and up to the master bedroom. Dad was so drunk he barely woke up as we put him to bed. Mom stood at the doorway, watching everything with a mix of relief and nervousness.



Allan had just helped me carry Dad upstairs and lay him on the bed in the master bedroom. Dad was completely out — snoring loudly, his mouth slightly open, still in his golf clothes. The long day, the beers on the course, and the extra drinks at the clubhouse had finally knocked him out cold. We closed the bedroom door softly and came back downstairs. The house was quiet except for the distant sound of Dad’s snoring drifting down from above.

Mom was still standing in the living room, exactly as she had been when we left — still wearing the pink pleated golf skirt and the white sleeveless polo. The setting sun was pouring golden-orange light through the large windows, bathing her petite 5’4” frame in a warm glow. The white fabric of the polo clung gently to her toned body from the day’s heat, the deep V-neck showing the smooth upper curve of her 36D breasts and the faint shadow of her cleavage. The pink skirt sat low on her hips, hugging her now-firm bubble butt and ending a few inches above her knees, revealing her smooth, toned mocha thighs. Her golden anklets and bangles still adorned her, catching the sunlight every time she moved. The diamond nose ring sparkled, and her Thaali rested heavily between her breasts — a constant reminder of the twenty years of marriage she was trying so hard to protect.

She looked incredibly beautiful… and conflicted.

As Allan picked up his car keys from the side table, Mom suddenly spoke, her voice soft but clear, her Indian accent more noticeable in the quiet room.

“Allan… wait.”

He turned around, one eyebrow raised.

Mom glanced upstairs toward the snoring sound, then back at him. Her fingers nervously played with the hem of her pink skirt.

“Sridhar is… very drunk. He will sleep for hours now. If you are not in a hurry… would you like to stay a little longer? Just for some more chat?”

Allan’s blue eyes lit up with clear excitement. A slow, hungry smile spread across his face. He placed the keys back down immediately.

“I would love that, Amrutha,” he said in his deep voice, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the eagerness.

I felt a rush of excitement too. My heart started beating faster. I stayed quiet, pretending to check my phone, but every nerve in my body was alert.

We all moved to the living room sofa. The sun was starting to set properly now, painting the walls in soft orange and pink hues. Mom sat in the middle of the large sofa, still in her golf outfit. Allan sat on her right, close but not touching. I took the single sofa opposite them, giving them space but staying in the room. The tension in the air was thick — heavy, electric, and slow-burning.

At first the conversation was light. They talked about the golf day — how much fun it had been, how well Mom had played for her first time, how beautiful the course looked in spring. Mom smiled shyly, crossing her legs primly, the pink skirt riding up just a little on her toned thighs. Every time she shifted, her anklets jingled softly. Allan kept complimenting her — how graceful she looked swinging the club, how the skirt suited her figure, how her mocha skin glowed against the white polo in the sunlight.

But slowly, the words became more intimate.

Allan’s voice dropped lower. “You know, Amrutha… I couldn’t keep my eyes off you the entire day. That skirt… the way it moved when you walked… the way your ass looked so round and firm when you bent over to putt…”

Mom’s cheeks flushed a deep mocha red. She tugged the hem of her skirt down again, her bangles chiming. “Allan… please. Siddharth is sitting right here.”

She didn’t tell him to stop completely. She just reminded him of my presence. Her breathing had become a little quicker. The Thaali between her breasts rose and fell faster. Allan’s large white hand rested on the sofa cushion between them — close enough that his fingers were only inches from her smooth thigh.

They got closer as the minutes passed. Not touching improperly, but their bodies leaned toward each other naturally. Allan’s knee brushed against hers once or twice. Mom didn’t pull away immediately. She would glance upstairs at the sound of Dad’s snoring, bite her lower lip, then look back at Allan with those sparkling eyes that now held clear desire mixed with guilt.

The sexual tension was becoming unbearable for both of them. I could see it in the way Mom’s nipples had stiffened under the thin white polo, creating faint outlines. I could see it in the way Allan’s powerful chest rose and fell, his athletic body tense with restraint. They badly wanted to make out — to kiss, to touch, to do much more. But I was still sitting there, and Dad was snoring loudly in the master bedroom upstairs. The master bedroom was taken.

Allan finally leaned in very close to Mom’s ear. His voice was barely a whisper, but I was close enough to hear every word.

“Amrutha… I want you so badly right now. Your husband is asleep. We can’t use your room… but we can go to Sid’s room. Just for a little while. He won’t mind. I know he understands.”

Mom froze.

Her eyes widened. She turned her head slightly toward me, then back to Allan. For a long moment she was completely still, her petite body tense on the sofa. The golden light from the setting sun highlighted the conflict on her beautiful oval face — the conservative Indian wife of twenty years fighting against the hot mom who had already tasted forbidden pleasure.

How could she ask her own son to let her use his room to get pounded by another man while her husband of twenty years slept just upstairs? The thought clearly shocked her. Her fingers tightened on the edge of her pink skirt. Her Thaali seemed to gleam brighter, as if reminding her of her vows. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment and arousal at the same time.

She was in two minds — torn between the deep guilt of involving her son so directly in her betrayal and the burning desire that had been building inside her for weeks. Her toned thighs pressed together tightly under the golf skirt. Her breathing was shallow.

Allan waited patiently, his blue eyes locked on hers, his large white hand now gently resting on the sofa right next to her brown thigh, not touching yet, but so close.

The sun continued to set outside, casting long shadows across the living room.

Dad’s snoring echoed faintly from upstairs.

And in that heavy, golden silence, my beautiful mother sat there in her sexy golf outfit, caught between loyalty and lust, while the tall white man beside her waited for her answer.



Allan leaned even closer to Mom again, his deep voice barely above a whisper.

“Amrutha… let’s go to Sid’s room. Just for a little while. I need you.”

Mom’s sparkling eyes widened with shock and hesitation. She glanced quickly at me, then back at Allan. For a few seconds she remained completely still, her petite body tense in the pink golf skirt and white polo. Her fingers gripped the hem of her skirt tightly, the golden bangles on her wrists chiming softly. The Thaali between her breasts rose and fell with her quick, shallow breaths.

Then she whispered back, her voice so low and trembling that I could barely hear it.

“I can’t ask him, Allan… You ask.”

The moment the words left her mouth, she stood up abruptly from the sofa. Her pink pleated skirt swayed around her toned thighs as she turned and walked quickly toward the kitchen without looking back. Her golden anklets jingled with every hurried step, the sound echoing in the quiet house. She disappeared around the corner, but I could imagine her standing there nervously, heart pounding, torn between guilt and desire.

Allan turned his head toward me slowly. His blue eyes met mine. There was no embarrassment on his face — only calm confidence mixed with a hint of amusement. He leaned back slightly on the sofa, one muscular arm resting along the backrest, and spoke in a low, casual voice as if we were discussing nothing more important than the weather.

“Sid… it’s been a long day, hasn’t it? Your dad is out cold upstairs. Your mom and I… we just want to talk privately for a bit. Somewhere quiet.” He paused, choosing his words carefully, keeping everything subtle and indirect. “Would it be alright if we used your room for a little while? Just to have some time alone. I promise we won’t be long.”

He didn’t say anything crude. He didn’t mention sex or fucking. But the meaning was crystal clear in the way his eyes held mine and the slight smile playing on his lips. The tall, athletic white man was politely asking his employee’s son for permission to take his mother into his own bedroom while her husband slept upstairs.

I felt a powerful rush of excitement mixed with nervousness. My throat went dry for a second. I understood exactly what he was asking — and what it would lead to. My voice came out surprisingly steady.

“Sure, Allan. No problem at all.”

Allan gave me a small nod of thanks, his smile widening just a fraction. “You’re a good man, Sid. I appreciate it.”

I stood up from the single sofa. Without saying anything more, I led him upstairs to my room. The hallway was dimly lit by the fading sunset coming through the windows. I opened the door to my bedroom and switched on the small bedside lamp, casting a soft, warm light over the bed and desk.

“Here it is,” I said quietly, stepping aside so he could enter. “Take your time.”

Allan stepped inside, his tall 6’3” frame making my room feel smaller. He looked around briefly, then turned back to me with that confident grin.

“Thanks again, buddy.”

I closed the door gently behind him and stood in the hallway for a moment, my heart hammering. Then I walked downstairs toward the kitchen.

Mom was standing near the sink, her back to me. She had both hands resting on the counter, her head slightly bowed. The pink golf skirt hugged her firm, round bubble butt perfectly, and her toned mocha legs looked even longer in the soft kitchen light. She was trying to compose herself, but I could see the nervous tension in her shoulders.

When she heard my footsteps, she turned around. Her beautiful oval face was flushed a deep mocha. She tried to force a small, casual smile, but it came out shaky and uncertain. Her sparkling eyes avoided mine for a second before finally meeting them.

“Siddharth… I…” she started, her voice soft and trembling, clearly searching for words to explain or justify what was about to happen.

I didn’t let her struggle for long. I stepped closer and spoke boldly but gently, looking straight into her eyes.

“Mom… Allan is in my room now. He’s waiting for you.”

Her eyes widened slightly. The attempted smile faded completely. She opened her mouth, but no words came out at first. Her fingers twisted the edge of her white polo nervously, making her bangles chime. The Thaali on her neck seemed to catch the light, a silent accusation of the betrayal she was about to commit.

I continued, my voice calm and clear.

“I’m going upstairs to check on Dad. He’s still snoring loudly… he won’t wake up for a long time.”

Mom stood there frozen for a few long seconds, the weight of my words sinking in. Her own son had just openly given her permission — and even cleared the path — for her to go into his bedroom and get fucked by another man while her husband of twenty years slept just down the hall. The guilt was written all over her face, but so was the raw desire that had been building for weeks.

She didn’t say thank you. She didn’t say anything at all. She simply looked at me with a complex mix of shame, gratitude, nervousness, and burning arousal in her sparkling eyes.

Then, without another word, she walked past me toward the stairs. Her golden anklets jingled softly with each step. The pink golf skirt swayed around her firm thighs and round ass as she climbed the stairs slowly, heading toward my room… and toward Allan.

I waited until I heard the soft click of my bedroom door closing behind her.

Then I quietly went upstairs to check on Dad, my pulse racing with excitement and disbelief at how far things had come.

The master bedroom was still filled with his loud, steady snoring.

Down the hall, in my own room, my beautiful Indian mother was about to surrender once again — this time with my full, bold permission.

[shivkajan]

Chapter 11



I waited a few minutes downstairs, letting the silence of the house settle around me. Dad’s snoring continued in a steady rhythm from the master bedroom, loud enough to echo faintly down the hallway. My heart was pounding hard, a strange mix of nervousness and intense excitement coursing through me. I knew the master bedroom door had been properly shut, but my own room door — the one Mom and Dad had deliberately made unable to lock or close fully years ago so they could monitor me — was still the same. It could only be pulled almost shut, never fully closed or locked. There would always be a noticeable gap.

Slowly, quietly, I climbed the stairs.

The hallway was dim, lit only by the soft orange remnants of the setting sun filtering through the windows at the end of the corridor. My footsteps were careful and silent on the carpet. As I approached my bedroom door, I could already hear low murmurs — Allan’s deep voice mixed with Mom’s softer, accented whispers.

The door was ajar, just as I expected — pulled almost closed but leaving a wide enough gap for me to see clearly into the room without pushing it open.

I stopped a few feet away and slowly leaned forward, peeping through the narrow opening.

What I saw made my breath catch.



Mom was leaning back against my study table, her hands gripping the edge of the wooden desk for support. Her petite 5’4” body looked even smaller in that position. The white sleeveless golf polo had ridden up slightly, exposing a thin strip of her smooth, toned mocha midriff. The pink pleated golf skirt had hiked up a little on her firm thighs as she leaned against the table. Her golden anklets and bangles were still on, catching the soft light from the bedside lamp every time she made the smallest movement. The Thaali dangled between her breasts, swaying gently with her quickened breathing.

Allan was sitting comfortably in my study chair, right in front of her. He had removed his polo shirt, revealing his broad, muscular white chest and defined abs. His tattoos stood out sharply against his pale skin. He sat with his legs slightly apart, looking up at her with calm, hungry eyes. He wasn’t rushing. He was taking his time, savouring every second after waiting more than a month.



Allan had both his large white hands resting lightly on Mom’s narrow waist, just above the waistband of her pink skirt. He was speaking to her in a low, husky voice, his face inches from hers.

“You’ve been driving me crazy all day in this outfit, Amrutha,” he murmured. “That skirt… the way it hugs your ass… I’ve wanted to touch you properly since the first hole.”

Mom’s hands were resting on his bare chest, not pushing him away, but not pulling him closer either. Her fingers trembled slightly against his pale skin. She looked up at him, her sparkling eyes filled with conflict, desire, and nervousness.

“Allan… this is wrong,” she whispered back, her voice shaky. “Siddharth’s room… my own son’s bed… and Sridhar is sleeping just down the hall…”

Even as she said the words, her body betrayed her. She didn’t step back. Her breasts rose and fell faster under the white polo, her dark nipples visibly stiff against the thin fabric.

Allan’s hands slowly slid down from her waist to the curve of her hips, gently squeezing the firm flesh through the pink skirt. He leaned in and brushed his lips lightly against her neck, just below her ear, not kissing fully yet — just teasing.

“I know it’s risky,” he whispered against her mocha skin. “But you want this too. I can feel how warm you are. How your body is already responding to me.”

Mom let out a soft, involuntary sigh. Her head tilted slightly, giving him better access to her neck. One of her hands slid up to his shoulder, her gold bangles chiming softly. The Thaali swung gently between them with her quickened breathing.

Allan’s right hand moved lower, tracing the side of her hip and then slowly cupping one firm cheek of her bubble butt through the skirt. He gave it a gentle squeeze.

“God, your ass feels even better now… so tight and round,” he breathed. “All that yoga and the way I stretched you last time… it’s paid off.”

Mom’s eyes fluttered half-closed for a moment. She bit her lower lip hard, fighting the moan that wanted to escape. Her free hand came up and rested on his wrist, not stopping him completely, but holding it there as if trying to slow things down.

“Not too fast… please,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Siddharth might come up… or Sridhar might wake up…”

Allan smiled against her neck and pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. His left hand moved up and gently cupped her left breast through the polo, his thumb brushing over the stiff nipple. The butterfly tattoo hidden just beneath the fabric must have been right under his palm.

“I’ll be gentle… at first,” he promised softly. “But I’ve waited more than a month for you, Amrutha. I need to feel you again.”

Mom’s breathing was now clearly ragged. She glanced nervously toward the slightly open door, but she made no move to pull away. Instead, her fingers tightened on his bare shoulder, her mocha skin contrasting sharply with his pale white muscles.

The slow, burning tension continued.

Allan lowered his head and finally captured her lips in a deep, sensual kiss. It wasn’t rushed — it was slow, deliberate, and hungry. Mom hesitated for half a second, then her lips parted, allowing his tongue to slip inside. A soft, muffled moan escaped her as their mouths moved together. Her Thaali pressed between their bodies, trapped between her heavy breasts and his hard chest.



Allan leaned forward a little more in the chair, still not touching her. His face was now very close to her midriff.

“I can see your nipples are hard through that polo,” he continued in that same low, teasing tone. “And the way you’re gripping the table… you’re trying so hard to control yourself. But your body wants this. It remembers how good it felt when I was inside you.”

Mom let out a shaky breath. One of her hands left the table and moved instinctively toward her skirt, as if to pull it down, but she stopped halfway. Her golden bangles chimed softly in the quiet room.

The slow burn continued.

Allan finally reached out. He placed both his large white hands on her hips, just above the waistband of the pink skirt. His pale fingers looked stark against her bright mocha skin. He didn’t pull her closer yet — he simply held her there, his thumbs gently stroking the sides of her hips through the fabric.

Mom’s body trembled slightly at the contact. Her eyes fluttered half-closed for a moment before she opened them again, looking down at him with a mix of guilt and raw desire.



The tension was building unbearably slow — Allan sitting in the chair, teasing and touching her gently, while Mom leaned against my study table, still fully dressed in her golf outfit, fighting her guilt but clearly losing the battle.



The soft golden light from the bedside lamp continued to bathe the room in a warm, intimate glow. I remained perfectly still outside the ajar door, my heart hammering as I watched the slow, deliberate dance unfolding inside my own bedroom.

Allan’s large white hands stayed on Mom’s hips for a long moment, his thumbs gently stroking the sides of her waist through the pink golf skirt. He looked up at her from the chair, his blue eyes dark with desire.

“Come here,” he whispered.

He gently pulled her forward. Mom hesitated for half a second, then allowed herself to be drawn closer until she stood between his spread legs. Allan rose slowly from the chair, his tall, muscular white body towering over her petite frame once again. Without a word, he cupped her face with both hands, his pale fingers contrasting sharply against her bright mocha cheeks.

Their lips met.

It started soft — a slow, sensual pressing of mouths. Mom’s eyes fluttered shut as Allan kissed her deeply, taking his time. Then the kiss grew hungrier. I could see their lips parting, tongues meeting. Allan’s tongue slipped into her mouth, and Mom responded with a soft, muffled moan. The kiss turned wet and passionate — deep smooching sounds filling the quiet room as their tongues danced and tangled. Mom’s hands moved up to grip his bare shoulders, her gold bangles chiming softly with every small movement.

They kissed like that for a long time — slow, intense, and full of months of built-up hunger. Allan’s hands slid down from her face to her neck, then lower, roaming over her back and pulling her closer until her breasts pressed against his hard chest. The Thaali was trapped between their bodies, the gold chain digging slightly into her soft cleavage.

When they finally broke the kiss for air, a thin string of saliva connected their lips for a moment. Mom was breathing heavily, her lips slightly swollen and glistening.

Allan’s voice was rough with lust. “You taste even better than I remembered.”

Mom didn’t reply with words. Instead, she surprised both of us.

She turned slightly and slowly sat back on the edge of my study table, her hands still resting on Allan’s shoulders. As she settled, she parted her toned mocha thighs just a little — not wide, but enough to be an unmistakable invitation. The pink pleated golf skirt rode higher up her thighs. Beneath it, I could clearly see the soft white boy shorts she was wearing. The thin fabric stretched tightly across her mound, outlining the shape of her smooth, freshly waxed pussy. A visible damp patch had formed right in the center, the white cotton turning slightly translucent from her arousal.

Allan’s eyes darkened as he looked down between her spread legs. A low groan escaped his throat.

“Fuck… look at you,” he murmured.

He stepped closer between her parted thighs, his muscular white body fitting perfectly in the space she had offered. Mom leaned back slightly on the table, supporting herself with her hands behind her. Her breasts pushed forward, nipples stiff and clearly visible through the white polo.

Allan leaned in again and captured her mouth in another deep, wet kiss. This time it was even more passionate — tongues sliding, lips smooching loudly, occasional soft sucking sounds as he devoured her mouth. One of his large hands moved to the back of her head, fingers threading through her silky ponytail, holding her in place as he kissed her harder.

His other hand slid down her body. He cupped her left breast firmly through the polo, squeezing and kneading the soft, heavy flesh. Mom moaned into his mouth, her thighs spreading a little wider on their own. The damp spot on her white boy shorts grew noticeably darker and wetter.

Allan broke the kiss and moved his mouth lower. He kissed and sucked along her neck, leaving faint red marks on her bright mocha skin. Then he moved even lower, burying his face between her breasts, smothering himself in her soft cleavage. He kissed and licked the exposed skin above the V-neck, his tongue tracing the edge of her polo while his hands pushed her breasts together around his face.

Mom’s head fell back, her eyes half-closed in pleasure. A soft, breathy whimper escaped her lips.



“Ahhh… Allan…”



Her hips shifted subtly on the table, pushing her damp crotch slightly forward toward him. The white boy shorts were now visibly soaked, the fabric clinging to the shape of her swollen pussy lips. The contrast was incredibly erotic — the delicate white cotton stretched tight against her dark, aroused sex, while the tall white man smothered his face between her heavy mocha breasts.

Allan continued his slow, hungry exploration. He kissed his way down her cleavage, then lifted the hem of her polo slightly with his teeth, exposing more of her smooth midriff and the lower curves of her breasts. His tongue traced slow circles on her skin, tasting her.



Mom’s breathing had turned into soft, needy pants. One of her hands moved to the back of his head, her manicured fingers with their gold bangles threading through his blonde hair, holding him against her chest. Her other hand gripped the edge of the table tightly. Her thighs trembled as they remained parted in invitation, the damp white boy shorts on full display.

Through the ajar door, I watched every slow, burning second — the way Allan was patiently devouring my mother on my study table, the way her body was gradually surrendering despite the guilt, the way her traditional Thaali swayed between them with every heavy breath.



Dad’s snoring continued faintly from down the hall.



And in my room, the slow fire had finally begun to consume them both.



The slow, aching tension in the room had become almost unbearable.

Allan slowly dropped to one knee in front of Mom, his tall, muscular white frame lowering until his face was level with her spread thighs. Mom remained leaning back against my study table, her hands still gripping the edge tightly. Her pink golf skirt had ridden high enough that the soft white boy shorts were completely exposed — the thin cotton now heavily soaked, clinging transparently to the swollen lips of her pussy.

Allan’s blue eyes were dark with hunger as he looked up at her. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned forward and began kissing the inside of her smooth mocha thigh — soft, lingering kisses that started just above her knee and slowly moved higher.



Mom’s breath hitched sharply. A quiet, shaky moan escaped her lips as his warm mouth made contact with her sensitive skin. Allan took his time, kissing and licking her inner thigh with gentle, wet strokes of his tongue. Each kiss left a faint glistening trail on her bright skin. He moved higher, inch by inch, savoring every tremble of her leg.

Mom’s nipples had grown even harder. They poked prominently through the thin white fabric of her sleeveless polo, two dark, stiff peaks clearly visible. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly with her quickened breathing, making the Thaali between them sway continuously.



Allan’s right hand moved upward. His thumb and index finger found one of her erect nipples through the polo and began rolling it slowly, pinching and tugging it with gentle pressure. Mom gasped, her back arching instinctively, pushing her breast further into his hand.



“Ahhh…” she breathed, her voice trembling with pleasure and guilt.



Allan continued kissing and licking her other thigh now, his tongue tracing slow, wet circles on her smooth skin, moving dangerously close to the edge of her soaked boy shorts. Every wet kiss made the soft cotton even wetter — his saliva mixing with her own arousal, causing the already damp fabric to grow darker and cling even more obscenely to her swollen pussy.

Mom’s thighs quivered visibly. She tried to keep them from spreading wider, but her body betrayed her again and again. Her hips shifted forward slightly on the table, offering herself more openly to his mouth. The white boy shorts were now thoroughly drenched, the outline of her smooth, waxed pussy lips clearly visible through the translucent cotton.

Allan’s fingers continued rolling and pinching her stiff nipples over the polo, alternating between both breasts, never giving her a moment of relief. Each tug sent visible shivers through her petite body.

Outside the ajar door, I stood frozen, my own cock rock-hard inside my pants. I couldn’t resist anymore. My hand slowly moved down and began stroking myself over my pants, rubbing the hard bulge as I watched my mother slowly losing control on my study table.



Allan finally lifted his head from her thigh. His lips were glistening. He looked up at her flushed face, his fingers still playing with her erect nipples through the fabric.

“You’re so sensitive now,” he whispered, his voice thick. “Your nipples are so hard… and your little white shorts are completely soaked. I can smell how much you want me.”

Mom’s head fell back, her eyes closing for a moment as another soft moan escaped her. Her gold bangles chimed as her grip on the table tightened. She looked torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer.

“Allan… please… not here…” she whispered weakly, but her thighs remained parted, and her hips gave another small, needy roll toward his face.

Allan leaned in again, pressing a long, wet kiss directly on the soaked crotch of her boy shorts. His tongue flicked softly over the drenched fabric, tasting her through the cotton. Mom’s entire body jerked, a sharp gasp leaving her lips as her nipples poked even harder against the white polo.

The slow burn had turned into a blazing fire.



And through the gap in the door, I stroked myself slowly, unable to look away as Allan continued his patient, teasing worship of my mother’s body on my own study table — kissing her thighs, licking her skin, rolling her stiff nipples, and making her soaked white boy shorts even wetter with every wet kiss.

Mom was trembling on the edge, her resistance hanging by the thinnest thread.



The air in my room had grown thick and heavy with raw sexual tension. Allan was still on one knee between Mom’s spread thighs, his mouth and fingers teasing her mercilessly. Her white boy shorts were now completely drenched, the soft cotton clinging transparently to every curve of her swollen pussy. Her nipples strained hard against the thin polo, begging for attention.

Mom’s breathing had become desperate, shallow little pants. Suddenly, as if she could no longer bear the slow torture, she made a decision.

With trembling hands, she reached down and pulled the white sleeveless polo up and over her head in one smooth motion. She dropped it onto the floor beside the table.

What was revealed underneath made my eyes widen in disbelief.

Mom was wearing a tiny white soft training bra — the kind usually worn by young teenage girls. It was small, thin, and stretchy, barely able to contain her heavy 36D breasts. The soft fabric was stretched to its limit, the material digging slightly into her flesh. Her dark brown nipples were clearly visible through it, stiff and erect, poking prominently against the innocent white cotton. The bra looked almost childish on her mature, voluptuous body, making the entire scene even more obscene and erotic.

The moment the polo hit the floor, Mom grabbed Allan’s face with both hands and pulled him up to her. She kissed him hard — a hungry, needy kiss full of months of suppressed desire. Their tongues tangled wetly, smooching sounds filling the room as she moaned into his mouth. Her gold bangles chimed wildly with the movement.



“Mmmmm… hmmmph…”



Allan groaned and kissed her back with equal passion.

When they broke apart, Allan’s eyes dropped to her chest. A wicked smile spread across his face.

“God, Amrutha… that little training bra looks so fucking naughty on you,” he whispered.

He lowered his head and began giving soft, fake bites on both her breasts over the thin fabric. His teeth gently grazed her stiff nipples through the soft cotton, tugging and nibbling without hurting. Mom let out a long, horny moan — a deep, throaty sound I had never heard from her before.



“Ahhhh… ohhh… mmmmmm…” Mom let out a long, horny moan, her voice breathy and needy. Her head fell back as she pushed her chest forward.

Allan continued nibbling and sucking her nipples over the tiny training bra, making wet marks on the fabric. Mom’s moans grew louder and more desperate.



“Ahhh… Allan… oh god…”

After a few minutes, Allan slowly moved lower. He kissed and licked his way down her toned stomach until he reached her mound again. He pressed his mouth against the soaked crotch of her white boy shorts and continued licking her through the drenched fabric with slow, wet strokes of his tongue.



“Mmmmmm… ahhhhh…” Mom moaned softly, her thighs trembling.



Then Mom did something so beautiful and unexpected that I couldn’t believe my own eyes.



Still leaning back on the table, she reached down with both hands, pulled the tiny training bra cups downward, and freed both of her heavy, mocha breasts completely. They spilled out proudly, full and firm from all the recent toning. Her dark brown nipples stood out stiff and glistening from Allan’s earlier attention.



Without any shame, Mom began rolling her own nipples between her thumbs and index fingers, pinching and tugging them in pleasure while Allan continued licking her soaked boy shorts. Her conservative Indian mother — the same woman who once wore only sarees and never showed even a hint of skin — was now sitting on her son’s study table, breasts fully exposed, playing with her own nipples like the naughtiest slut while a white man worshipped her pussy through her panties.



I stood outside the door, my hand stroking my hard cock furiously over my pants, unable to believe what I was witnessing.



After several long minutes of this slow, delicious torture, Mom suddenly slid down from the table. She dropped into a low squatting position on the floor in front of Allan, her pink golf skirt riding up high on her thighs. The position made her toned legs spread wide apart, giving me a perfect, unobstructed view of her mound. The soft white boy shorts were stretched obscenely tight across her pussy, the fabric soaked dark and almost transparent, clearly showing the shape of her swollen lips and the wet slit between them.



Mom’s hands moved to Allan’s golf shorts. She began stroking his thick bulge slowly over the fabric.

Allan groaned. “That’s it…”



He helped her, unbuckling his belt and pushing his shorts and underwear down. His thick 9-inch white cock sprang free, heavy and veined, the pink head already leaking pre-cum.



Amrutha held Allan’s thick, veined white cock in her small brown hand. The contrast was striking — her delicate fingers with their gold bangles wrapped around his heavy, pale shaft. Pre-cum was already leaking from the swollen pink head.

Mom looked up at him with hazy, lust-filled eyes for a moment, then leaned forward and took the head of his cock into her warm mouth.



“Mmmmmm…” she moaned softly around him, the vibration traveling straight down his shaft.



She started slowly, almost reverently — swirling her tongue around the sensitive head, licking up the beads of pre-cum with soft, wet sounds. Her lips stretched around his girth as she took more of him inside, sucking gently.



“Gluck… mmmph… ahhhh…”



Allan groaned deeply, his muscular thighs tensing. He gathered her silky ponytail in one large white hand, holding it firmly like a handle, while his other hand gently guided the base of his cock, feeding it deeper into her Indian mouth.



“That’s it… good girl… take it slow,” he moaned, his voice thick with pleasure.

Mom bobbed her head with increasing rhythm, her cheeks hollowing every time she sucked. She couldn’t take his full 9 inches yet — she was still adjusting to his size — but she tried hard, pushing herself further each time. Saliva mixed with his pre-cum began to overflow from the corners of her stretched lips, dripping down her chin in thick, shiny strands. The messy liquid ran down her neck and onto her exposed breasts, soaking the tiny white training bra that was still pulled down underneath them. The innocent fabric quickly became filthy and translucent, clinging wetly to her heavy tits.



“Gluck… gluck… mmmphhh… ahhhh…”



Mom’s moans around his cock were constant now — needy, wet, and hungry. Every time she took him deeper, a soft gagging sound escaped her throat, followed by a throaty moan of pleasure. Drool was pouring freely from her mouth, coating his white shaft and making it glisten. Some of it dripped down onto her thighs and the floor.



While she sucked him, her free hand never stopped moving between her own legs. She rubbed her clit in slow, firm circles over the drenched boy shorts, her fingers pressing the soaked fabric against her swollen pussy. Her hips rolled subtly as she pleasured herself, the wet squelching sounds mixing with the sloppy noises of her blowjob.



Allan’s grip on her ponytail tightened. He started guiding her head with gentle but firm movements, pushing his thick cock a little deeper into her mouth with each thrust.



“Fuck… your mouth feels incredible, Amrutha,” he groaned. “Look at you… drooling all over my cock like a good little slut. Your conservative Indian mouth was made for this.”



Mom responded with a loud, muffled moan — “Mmmmmmphhhh!” — and sucked him harder, her head bobbing faster. More saliva and pre-cum overflowed, running in messy rivers down her neck, over her collarbone, and all the way down to her breasts. Her training bra was now completely soaked, the white fabric darkened and stuck to her skin, her stiff nipples clearly visible through the wet material.



She pulled back for a moment, gasping for air. A thick string of saliva connected her swollen lips to the head of his cock. She looked up at him with watery eyes, breathing heavily, then immediately leaned forward again and took him back into her mouth with renewed hunger.



“Gluck… gluck… gluck… ahhhh… mmmph…”



Her hand continued stroking the part of his shaft she couldn’t fit in her mouth, twisting and pumping in rhythm with her sucking. Every few seconds she would pull back to lick the entire length of his cock from base to tip with long, sloppy strokes of her tongue, moaning loudly as she did so.



“Ahhhh… so big… mmmmm…”



Allan was clearly having the best blowjob of his life. His muscular white body was tense with pleasure, abs flexing as he fought to control himself. He held her ponytail firmly, occasionally pushing his hips forward to fuck her mouth a little deeper, but never too roughly — keeping that perfect balance of dominance and patience.

Mom’s thighs were spread even wider now in her squatting position. The golf skirt had ridden completely up, and the soaked boy shorts were stretched so tightly that I could see the outline of her clit as she rubbed it frantically. Her moans around his cock grew louder and more desperate.



“Gluck… mmmphhh… ahhhh… oh god…”



Saliva was dripping everywhere — from her chin, down her neck, over her bouncing breasts, and even onto her thighs. The tiny training bra was ruined, completely drenched and clinging obscenely to her tits.

This was no ordinary blowjob.



This was my once-demure, saree-wearing Indian mother — now transformed — squatting sluttily on the floor of my own room, moaning and drooling like a whore while eagerly sucking a thick white cock, playing with her own soaked pussy, and making the filthiest, most beautiful sounds I had ever heard.



Allan’s groans were getting deeper, his hips starting to thrust a little more urgently into her warm, wet mouth.



The slow burn had finally become raw, messy, and completely intoxicating.



Allan’s breathing had grown ragged and heavy. His muscular white thighs were tense, abs flexing as Mom continued working his thick cock with her warm, sloppy mouth. Her head bobbed faster, wet sucking and gagging sounds filling the room — “gluck… gluck… mmmphhh… ahhhh…” — while thick strings of saliva and pre-cum dripped endlessly from her lips, coating her chin, neck, and soaked training bra.



Allan suddenly groaned loudly, his hand tightening in her ponytail.



“Fuck… Amrutha… I’m so close…”



He gently but firmly pulled her head back, sliding his glistening cock out of her mouth with a wet pop. Mom looked up at him, her lips swollen and shiny, a thick trail of saliva still connecting her lower lip to the head of his cock. She was breathing hard, eyes glassy with lust.



A cunning, naughty little smile slowly spread across her face. Allan smiled back — the same wicked, knowing grin. They both understood perfectly. He was saving his load for something much more special.



Mom rose from her squatting position with a soft moan. She stepped close to him, still topless except for the tiny white training bra pulled down under her heavy breasts. Her lips, glistening with their mixed saliva and pre-cum, met his in a deep, messy kiss. She pushed her tongue into his mouth shamelessly, letting him taste himself on her. Wet smooching sounds echoed as they devoured each other.



“Mmmmm… hmmmph…” Mom moaned into the kiss, her hands roaming over his bare chest.



Allan broke the kiss and gently guided her toward my double bed. He had already kicked off his shorts and underwear completely, his thick white cock standing hard and proud, still wet from her mouth. Mom was still wearing her pink golf skirt, the tiny soaked training bra, and the drenched white boy shorts.

[shivkajan]

Chapter 11 (Continuation...)

In one smooth, powerful motion, Allan lifted her petite body off the ground. Mom let out a surprised but excited gasp as he turned her around and placed her on all fours on my bed. She instinctively arched her back deeply, pushing her round bubble butt toward him like an offering. The pink golf skirt rode up high on her hips, framing her perfect ass.



Allan knelt behind her on the bed. He leaned forward and began kissing her butt cheeks softly over the golf skirt, his lips pressing against the smooth fabric.

“Mmm… so perfect,” he murmured.



Mom moaned softly and leaned further forward, resting her face sideways on my pillow. Her cheek pressed into the fabric as she kept her ass pushed back toward Allan, shamelessly presenting herself. The arch in her back was beautiful — her waist dipped low, her firm bubble butt raised high and stretched toward him.



Allan slowly lifted the hem of her pink golf skirt, bunching it around her waist. He leaned in and kissed her directly on the ass crack over the thin white boy shorts. Then he pressed his nose hard against the gusset and took a deep, hungry sniff.



“Mhhhmff… Amrutha… your sweaty ass smells so fucking good…” he groaned, inhaling again deeply. “Mmmhmff… so musky and sweet…”



Mom let out a long, horny moan, pushing her ass back even more into his face.



“Ahhhh… Allan…”



Allan buried his face completely between her cheeks. He kissed, licked, and sniffed the damp gusset of her boy shorts with raw hunger. His tongue pressed flat against the soaked fabric, tasting the mixture of her juices and sweat. He made loud, wet sniffing and kissing sounds as he worshipped her ass.



“Mmmph… so wet already… your pussy is dripping through these little shorts…”



Mom was lost in pleasure. She reached back with one hand, grabbed the back of Allan’s head, and literally pushed his face deeper into her ass crack. Her fingers tightened in his hair as she ground back against him shamelessly.

“Yes… ahhhh… like that… mmmmm…” she moaned, her voice thick and needy. Her hips rolled slowly, rubbing her soaked boy shorts all over his mouth and nose.



Allan continued eagerly — kissing, licking, and sniffing loudly, making the already damp fabric even wetter with his saliva. The boy shorts were now completely soaked through, clinging obscenely to her pussy and ass. Wet sucking and slurping sounds mixed with Mom’s constant moans as Allan devoured her most private area like a man starved.



“Ahhh… oh god… Allan… mmmmm… don’t stop…” Mom whimpered, pushing her ass harder against his face while her cheek stayed pressed into my pillow.



The sight was incredibly naughty — my conservative Indian mother on all fours on my own bed, face buried in my pillow, ass arched high and shamelessly presented, actively pushing a tall white man’s face into her ass and pussy while moaning like a whore in heat. Her heavy breasts hung beneath her, the tiny training bra still pulled down, nipples rock hard. The Thaali dangled and swayed between them with every movement.



Allan’s hands gripped her firm butt cheeks, spreading them wider as he continued burying his face deeper, sniffing and licking with unrestrained lust.

The slow burn had turned filthy, intimate, and completely intoxicating.



Dad’s snoring still echoed faintly from down the hall.



And I stood outside the ajar door, watching my mother completely lose herself in pleasure on my bed.



Allan’s face remained buried deep between Mom’s firm, round ass cheeks, his nose and mouth pressed firmly against the drenched gusset of her white boy shorts. He inhaled her scent again with a long, hungry sniff, his groan vibrating through her body.



“Mmmhmff… so fucking good…”



Mom pushed her ass back shamelessly against his face, her cheek still pressed into my pillow, eyes half-closed in pleasure. Her gold bangles chimed softly as she reached back with one hand and held the back of his head, pulling him even deeper.



“Ahhhh… yes… right there…” she moaned breathily.



Allan finally hooked his fingers into the waistband of her soaked boy shorts. Slowly — torturously slowly — he began sliding the thin white fabric down over the smooth curves of her ass. The wet cotton peeled away from her skin with a soft, sticky sound, revealing her perfect, mocha-colored bubble butt inch by inch. He dragged the shorts down to her mid-thighs, letting them bunch there, keeping her legs slightly restricted while fully exposing her most private areas.

Mom’s ass was now completely bare in front of him — two firm, round cheeks glowing under the warm bedside lamp, the deep crack between them glistening with a mixture of her juices, sweat, and his saliva. Her tight, puckered asshole winked slightly in the light, just above her dripping pussy.



Allan let out a low, appreciative groan.



“God, Amrutha… look at this beautiful brown ass…”



He placed both of his large white hands on her cheeks and slowly spread them apart. The contrast was breathtaking — his pale fingers digging into her bright mocha flesh, pulling her firm globes wide open and exposing everything. Her asshole and pussy were now completely on display, glistening and wet.



Mom moaned loudly, arching her back even more, pushing her ass higher into the air like an offering.



“Ahhhh… Allan… ohhh…”



Allan leaned in and dragged his tongue slowly up the entire length of her ass crack in one long, wet stroke — from just above her pussy all the way up to the top of her crack. The flat of his tongue pressed firmly against her sensitive skin, tasting her.



“Mmmmmmm…” Mom whimpered, her body shuddering.



He did it again, slower this time, savoring every inch. Then he focused on her asshole. His tongue circled the tight, puckered ring with deliberate, teasing strokes — soft, wet laps that made her hole flutter under his mouth. He licked in slow, lazy circles, occasionally flattening his tongue and pressing it directly against her asshole, trying to push inside just a little.



The sensations must have been overwhelming. Mom’s moans grew louder and more desperate.



“Ahhh… oh my god… Allan… that feels so… so dirty… mmmmm… ahhhh…”



Her gold bangles chimed wildly as she gripped my pillow tighter with one hand and pushed his head harder against her ass with the other. Her hips rolled back in slow, needy circles, grinding her asshole and pussy against his face.

Allan buried himself deeper. He sucked gently on her puckered hole, then licked broad, wet strokes up and down her entire crack, coating her completely with his saliva. The wet, sloppy sounds of his tongue lapping at her most forbidden place filled the room — loud, obscene, and incredibly intimate.



“Slurp… mmmph… lick… mmmmm…”



He pushed his tongue firmer against her asshole, trying to penetrate the tight ring. Mom’s entire body trembled violently.



“Ahhhhhh… yes… right there… ohhh fuck… mmmmm…” she moaned shamelessly, her voice breaking. Her free hand moved down between her legs and started rubbing her clit in fast, frantic circles over her dripping pussy.

Allan spread her cheeks even wider, his strong white fingers pulling her ass open as far as it would go. He alternated between long, slow licks along her crack and focused, swirling attention directly on her tight asshole. Every lick was deliberate, every kiss wet and hungry. He even pressed his nose deep into her crack again, inhaling her scent deeply before licking her once more.



“Mmmhmff… your asshole tastes so sweet, Amrutha… so warm and tight…”



Mom was losing control completely. Her moans were now constant and filthy.



“Ahhh… oh god… don’t stop… lick my ass… mmmmm… yes… like that…”



Her bubble butt jiggled slightly with every push back against his face. The Thaali swung wildly between her hanging breasts. Her tiny training bra, still pulled down, was completely soaked with drool and pre-cum from earlier, her stiff nipples rubbing against my bedsheet.



Allan continued his slow, thorough worship — licking, sucking, and kissing every inch of her ass crack and asshole with pure devotion, making her wetter and wetter with every pass of his tongue.

Mom’s moans grew higher and needier as she shamelessly fucked her ass back onto his face, completely lost in the filthy pleasure.



The sight through the ajar door was almost too much — my once-conservative Indian mother on all fours on my bed, face buried in my pillow, ass spread wide open while a tall white man hungrily ate her asshole like it was the most delicious thing in the world.



And she was loving every single second of it.



Allan’s face remained buried deep between Mom’s spread ass cheeks, his tongue working her tight asshole with slow, wet, hungry strokes. The obscene sounds of his licking and sucking filled the room — wet, sloppy, and shameless.

Mom was moaning continuously now, her face pressed sideways into my pillow, her back arched deeply as she pushed her round bubble butt back against his mouth.



“Ahhhh… oh god… Allan… your tongue feels so good there… mmmmm…”



Her gold bangles chimed softly with every little shudder that ran through her body. Her tiny white training bra was still pulled down under her heavy breasts, her dark nipples hard and rubbing against the bedsheet. The pink golf skirt was bunched uselessly around her waist, and her white boy shorts were stretched around her mid-thighs, completely soaked and useless.



Allan finally pulled his mouth away from her asshole with a wet smack. A thin string of saliva connected his lips to her glistening puckered hole for a moment before breaking. He sat back slightly on his heels, admiring the view — her ass spread wide open, both her tight brown asshole and her dripping pussy shining with his saliva and her own juices.



“You’re so fucking wet, Amrutha,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “Your pussy is dripping down your thighs.”



Mom let out a needy whimper and pushed her ass back toward him again, silently begging for more.



Allan brought his right hand forward. He placed two thick white fingers against her soaked pussy lips and slowly rubbed them up and down her slit, coating them thoroughly in her slick juices. Mom moaned loudly at the contact.



“Ahhhh… yes…”



He teased her entrance for a few moments, circling her hole without pushing inside, making her hips twitch with anticipation. Then, very slowly, he slid one long finger deep inside her tight, wet pussy.



“Mmmmmmm… ohhh…” Mom moaned deeply, her eyes fluttering shut as she felt him enter her.



Allan pushed his finger all the way into her soaked pussy, curling it slightly to stroke her inner walls. He held it there for a moment, letting her feel the fullness, before he began moving it in and out with slow, deliberate strokes. The wet, squelching sound of his finger pumping into her dripping pussy filled the room.



“Listen to how wet you are,” he whispered. “Your pussy is making such dirty sounds for me.”



He added a second finger into her pussy, stretching her gently. At the same time, he brought his left thumb to her asshole and began rubbing slow, teasing circles around the tight, puckered ring, spreading his saliva and her own wetness over it.



Amrutha’s moan turned into a long, throaty cry of pleasure.



“Ahhhhh… oh my god… both holes… Allan… ahhhh…”



Allan started fingering her properly now — two thick fingers sliding in and out of her tight pussy with deep, steady strokes while his thumb continued pressing and circling her sensitive asshole. Every time he pushed his fingers into her pussy, his thumb would press more firmly against her virgin asshole, teasing the tight ring without entering yet.



He curled his fingers upward inside her pussy, finding that special spot again. When he rubbed it steadily, Amrutha’s entire body jerked violently.



“Ahhh! There… right there… ohhh fuck… mmmmm…” she cried out, her voice breaking into desperate moans.



Allan kept the pace slow and controlled. His two fingers pumped in and out of her dripping pussy with wet squelching sounds. Then his thumb finally pushed more insistently against her asshole.



Amrutha suddenly tensed, her eyes flying open in shock as she felt the pressure.



“Wait— Allan… that’s… oh god, it’s too big…” she gasped, her voice shaky.



Allan’s thumb was noticeably thick — easily the size of two of her own fingers. For a woman who had never had anything in her ass before, the sheer girth pressing against her virgin hole was startling.



From his hiding spot, Sid’s eyes widened in surprise too. Allan’s thumb looked almost as thick as his own small dick — maybe even a little bigger than his dad Sridhar’s. The realization hit him hard: this was no ordinary finger play. Allan was about to push something significantly thicker than anything Amrutha had ever taken back there.



Allan didn’t rush. He applied steady, gentle pressure, watching her tight ring slowly begin to yield. Amrutha’s breath hitched sharply as the thick pad of his thumb finally breached her virgin asshole, slipping inside up to the first knuckle.



“Ahhhhhhh—! Oh god… it’s inside… it’s really inside my ass…” she cried out, her voice a mix of shock, discomfort, and unexpected pleasure. Her body shuddered hard, the unfamiliar stretch making her clench instinctively around the invading digit.



Allan groaned softly. “Fuck… you’re so tight. Your virgin asshole is gripping my thumb like a vice.”



He began moving both hands in rhythm — his two thick fingers thrusting deep into her pussy while his thumb slid slowly in and out of her tight, untouched ass, only up to the first knuckle for now. The double penetration was slow but relentless. Every time his fingers pushed into her pussy, his thumb would gently pump into her ass.



The wet, filthy sounds grew louder as her juices coated his hand and dripped down her thighs.



“You’re squeezing me so tight in both holes,” he groaned. “Your pussy is dripping… and your asshole is so greedy even though it’s your first time.”



Amrutha was losing control completely. Her hips started rocking back tentatively, torn between the shock of the new sensation and the overwhelming pleasure. Her round bubble butt bounced softly with every small movement. The Thaali swung wildly between her hanging breasts as she moaned shamelessly into the pillow.



“Ahhh… ohhh… it feels so strange… so full… deeper in my pussy… please… mmmmm… my ass… ahhhhh…”



Allan continued the slow, relentless rhythm — his fingers curling inside her pussy to rub her G-spot while his thick thumb gently pumped in and out of her virgin asshole. He occasionally pulled his thumb almost all the way out just to watch her tight ring flutter and grip at it before pushing back in.



Amrutha’s moans were becoming constant and broken, her voice hoarse with a mixture of shock and building ecstasy.



“Ahhhh… Allan… I’m going to… oh god… don’t stop… mmmmm… ahhhhh…”



Her thighs trembled violently. One of her hands reached back, grabbing Allan’s wrist — not to stop him, but to urge him deeper despite the burning stretch in her untouched ass.



From the shadows, Sid watched in stunned silence, his heart pounding. He couldn’t believe how easily Amrutha was starting to take something so thick in her virgin ass.



llan kept the slow, relentless rhythm for a few more moments, his two thick fingers buried deep in Amrutha’s dripping pussy while his thumb gently pumped in and out of her virgin asshole. Her moans were growing louder, more desperate, her body trembling on the edge.



Then, suddenly, he pulled both his fingers and thumb completely out of her.



Amrutha let out a frustrated whimper at the sudden emptiness, her hips twitching back instinctively, searching for the fullness she had just lost.



Allan brought his glistening hand up to his mouth. Without breaking eye contact with her, he slowly slid his two pussy-soaked fingers between his lips and began sucking them clean with obvious relish. The wet, obscene sounds of him savoring her juices filled the quiet room. He licked every drop, his tongue swirling around his fingers, tasting her sweet, tangy arousal like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever had.



Amrutha turned her head back over her shoulder, her cheek still pressed against Sid’s pillow. Her eyes widened as she watched Allan greedily sucking her juices off his fingers. The sight was so filthy, so shameless, that a fresh wave of heat flooded her body.



Her lips parted slightly, mouth hanging open in a horny, needy smile. Her breathing was ragged, eyes glassy with lust as she stared at him.



Allan noticed the look immediately. A wicked grin spread across his face.



Without a word, he plunged his two fingers back into her soaked pussy, this time scouring her inner walls with deliberate, curling strokes. He gathered a thick, generous coating of her creamy juices, making sure his fingers were dripping with her essence.



He pulled them out slowly, strings of her wetness stretching between her pussy and his fingers. Then he brought his hand right up to her face, holding his glistening fingers just inches from her slightly open mouth.



Amrutha’s eyes fluttered. Still resting her face on her son’s pillow, she didn’t hesitate. She leaned forward just enough, parted her lips wider, and took Allan’s fingers into her mouth.



She sucked them eagerly, her tongue swirling around the thick digits just like he had done moments earlier. Soft, hungry moans vibrated around his fingers as she cleaned every drop of her own juices off them. Her cheeks hollowed slightly with the suction, eyes half-lidded in pure lust while she tasted herself mixed with the faint musk from her own ass.



“Mmmph… mmmmm…” she moaned around his fingers, sucking lewdly, her tongue sliding between them to catch every sticky strand.



Allan watched her with dark, hungry eyes.



“That’s it… taste how fucking wet your pussy and virgin ass made my fingers,” he whispered, voice low and rough. “Suck them clean like a good girl.”



Amrutha’s face remained pressed against Sid’s pillow, the fabric muffling her soft, filthy sucking sounds. She looked utterly depraved — a married mother shamelessly sucking her own creamy juices from another man’s fingers while her virgin asshole still fluttered from the earlier intrusion. Her round ass stayed raised high, pussy visibly dripping onto the sheets, Thaali swinging gently between her heavy breasts.



She kept sucking long after his fingers were clean, reluctant to let them go, her horny smile never fading as she gazed back at him with pure, shameless need.



Allan finally pulled his fingers free with a wet pop, a thin string of saliva connecting her lips to his fingertips for a moment before breaking.



“Such a dirty mommy,” he murmured, already moving his hand back down between her spread thighs. “Now… let’s see how much more you can give me.”



Mom was trembling violently now. Her back was arched deeply, her face pressed hard into my pillow as desperate, broken moans poured from her lips.



“Ahhhh… oh god… Allan… I’m so close… please… don’t stop… mmmmm… ahhhhh…”



Her thighs shook uncontrollably. Her pussy clenched tightly around his fingers, and her asshole pulsed around his thumb. She was right on the edge, her body seconds away from a powerful orgasm.

Allan suddenly slowed down, then stopped completely.



He gently pulled his fingers and thumb out of her holes with a wet, slippery sound. Mom let out a frustrated, needy whimper, her hips still pushing back desperately, searching for the lost stimulation.

“Ahhh… no… please… I was so close…” she moaned, her voice hoarse and desperate.



Allan gave her ass a soft, affectionate kiss on one cheek and whispered, “Not yet, Amrutha. I want to feel you cum around my cock.”



He rose to his knees behind her. Mom stayed in position — on all fours on my bed, face buried in my pillow, ass arched high and presented to him like a gift. Her pink golf skirt was still bunched around her waist, her white boy shorts were stretched around her mid-thighs, and her heavy breasts hung beneath her, nipples rock-hard. The Thaali dangled and swayed between them.



Allan gripped his thick, white 9-inch cock in one hand and rubbed the swollen pink head slowly up and down her soaked pussy lips, coating himself in her juices. He teased her entrance, pressing just the tip against her hole before pulling back.



Mom moaned impatiently and pushed her ass back toward him.



“Ahhhh… Allan… put it in… please… I need you inside me…”



Allan placed one hand on her hip to steady her and slowly pushed the head of his cock into her tight, wet pussy.

Mom let out a long, deep moan as he stretched her.



“Ahhhhh… oh my god… so big… mmmmm…”



He entered her inch by inch, savoring the feeling. Her pussy lips stretched tightly around his thick white shaft, the contrast between his pale cock and her bright mocha pussy lips was stark and beautiful. He kept pushing until he was buried halfway inside her.



Mom’s fingers clutched my bedsheet tightly, her gold bangles chiming with every small movement.

“Ahhh… deeper… please… fill me…”



Allan gripped both of her hips with his large white hands and slowly pushed the rest of his cock inside her until his hips pressed against her firm round ass. He was fully buried in her pussy.

Mom let out a loud, satisfied moan.



“Ahhhhhhh… yes… so deep… mmmmm…”



Allan stayed still for a moment, letting her adjust to his size, his cock twitching inside her. Then he began to move — slow, deep thrusts in doggy style, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in fully. Each thrust made her bubble butt ripple softly and her Thaali swing wildly between her breasts.



The wet, rhythmic slapping sounds of skin against skin started filling the room as Allan fucked her with long, deliberate strokes.



“Fuck… your pussy feels even better than I remembered,” he groaned, his voice low and rough.



Mom pushed back to meet every thrust, her moans growing louder and more shameless with each deep penetration.



“Ahhh… Allan… harder… mmmmm… fuck me… ahhhhh…”



Allan kept the pace steady and deep, holding her hips firmly as he drove into her from behind on my own bed. Mom’s face remained pressed into my pillow, her ass arched high, completely lost in the pleasure of being fucked by her white lover while her husband snored just down the hall.



Allan’s grip on Mom’s hips tightened. He pulled back almost completely, leaving just the swollen head of his thick white cock inside her, then slammed forward hard.



The wet slap of his hips against her round ass echoed loudly in the room.



“Ahhhhhh!” Mom cried out, her voice breaking into a sharp, desperate moan.



Allan started fucking her harder now — deep, powerful thrusts that made her entire body jolt forward with every stroke. Her heavy breasts swung wildly beneath her, nipples brushing against my bedsheet. The Thaali bounced and slapped against her chest as he pounded into her from behind.



“Take it, Amrutha,” he growled, his voice rough. “Take every inch.”



“Ahhh… oh god… Allan… yes… harder… mmmmm… ahhhhh!” Mom moaned shamelessly, pushing her ass back to meet his thrusts. Her pussy made loud, wet squelching sounds every time his thick cock drove deep inside her.



Allan picked up speed, fucking her with long, forceful strokes. The bed started creaking rhythmically under them. Mom’s moans grew louder and more broken with every hard thrust.



“Ahhh… fuck… so deep… ahhhhh… I’m going to cum… don’t stop… mmmmm!”



Her body started trembling violently. Her pussy clenched tightly around his cock as her orgasm built rapidly.



Allan kept pounding her harder, his hips slapping loudly against her firm bubble butt.



“Cum for me, baby,” he groaned. “Cum on my cock.”



Mom’s moans suddenly turned into a long, high-pitched cry as she came hard.



“Ahhhhhhhhh… oh my god… I’m cumming… ahhhhhh… mmmmmmm!”



Her whole body shook uncontrollably. Her pussy spasmed and squeezed around Allan’s thick cock, flooding it with her hot juices. Her thighs quivered, and her toes curled as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her. She buried her face deeper into my pillow, moaning loudly into it as her orgasm ripped through her.



“Ahhh… ohhh… yes… mmmmm…”



Outside the door, I couldn’t hold back anymore. Watching my mother cum so hard on Allan’s cock while she was on all fours in my own bed pushed me over the edge. My hand stroked faster over my pants as I felt my own orgasm building. I was right on the verge of splashing my cum inside my underwear.



But Allan suddenly slowed down again.



He stopped thrusting completely, keeping his cock buried deep inside her pulsing pussy. Mom whimpered in frustration, still trembling from her powerful orgasm.



“No… please… don’t stop…” she begged breathlessly, trying to push her ass back onto him. “Allan… I need more… please fuck me…”



Allan leaned over her back, his muscular white chest pressing against her. He kissed the back of her neck and whispered teasingly in her ear.



“Not yet, Amrutha. I want to feel something even tighter.”



He slowly pulled his glistening cock out of her dripping pussy with a wet sound. Mom moaned in protest, her empty pussy clenching around nothing.



Allan gripped her ass cheeks and spread them wide open again. He placed the slick, wet head of his cock against her tight, puckered asshole.



Mom’s eyes widened. She turned her head slightly, looking back at him with a mix of nervousness and raw desire.



“Allan… my ass… be gentle…” she whispered, but she still kept her back arched and her ass pushed toward him.



Allan held Mom’s hips firmly with both hands, his thick white cock pressed against her tight, puckered asshole. The head was already glistening with a mixture of her pussy juices and his pre-cum. He didn’t rush. He rubbed the swollen tip slowly in small circles against her most private hole, teasing the tight ring and letting her feel the pressure.



Mom’s breathing was ragged. Her face was still pressed sideways into my pillow, her cheek flushed deep mocha. She kept her back deeply arched, pushing her round bubble butt toward him even as nervousness flickered in her eyes.



“Allan… slowly… please…” she whispered, her voice trembling with both fear and desire. “It’s too big for there…”



“Relax for me, baby,” he murmured. “I’ve been dreaming about this tight Indian ass for so long.”



He began pressing forward gently but firmly. The thick head of his cock slowly stretched her tight ring open.



Mom let out a long, deep moan as he started taking her ass.



“Ahhhhh… oh god… it’s so big… mmmmm…”



Allan pushed slowly, inch by inch, watching her tight asshole stretch around his thick white cock. Mom’s moans were a mixture of discomfort and intense pleasure as he claimed her last virgin hole right there on my bed.



He applied gentle but steady pressure. The thick pink head of his cock began to stretch her tight brown asshole open. Mom let out a long, shaky moan as the head finally popped inside her.



“Ahhhhh… oh my god… it’s stretching me… mmmmm…”



Her asshole clenched tightly around the head of his cock. Allan groaned deeply at the incredible tightness.



“Fuck… your ass is so tight, Amrutha. So hot and gripping me.”



He stayed perfectly still for a long moment, letting her adjust to the invasion. Only the head was inside her. Mom’s breathing came in short, shallow pants. Her fingers clutched my bedsheet tightly, knuckles turning lighter against her mocha skin. A fresh trickle of her juices leaked from her empty pussy and dripped onto my bedsheet, mixing with the wet spots already there from Allan’s pre-cum that had dripped earlier.



Slowly, very slowly, Allan began pushing forward. Inch by inch, his thick white cock disappeared into her tight Indian ass.



“Ahhhh… ohhh… it’s so deep already… mmmmm… Allan… slowly…” Mom moaned, her voice a mix of discomfort and growing pleasure. Her asshole stretched visibly around his girth, the tight ring gripping him like a vice.



Allan kept the entry slow and controlled, savoring every millimeter. “That’s it… take my cock in your ass, Amrutha. Feel how deep I’m going. This tight little hole is mine now.”



Mom let out another long moan as he sank deeper.



“Ahhhhh… yes… I feel you… so full… oh god…”



When he was finally buried halfway inside her ass, he paused again, letting her body adjust. Mom’s thighs trembled. Her pussy continued to drip steadily onto my bedsheet, creating a growing wet patch beneath her. The white man’s pre-cum that had leaked from his cock earlier had already left shiny streaks on the fabric, now mixing with her own juices in a filthy, glistening stain.



Allan leaned forward slightly, his muscular white chest hovering over her back. He whispered dirty words into her ear while his cock remained buried in her ass.



“You’re taking my cock so well in your ass, baby. Such a naughty Indian wife… letting your husband’s boss fuck your tight asshole in your son’s bed.”



Mom whimpered at his words, but her hips gave a tiny push back, taking another inch of him inside her.



“Ahhh… don’t say that… mmmmm… it’s so wrong… but it feels so good…”



Allan finally pushed the last few inches until his hips were pressed flush against her firm bubble butt. He was completely buried inside her ass. Mom let out a deep, guttural moan.



“Ahhhhhhhhh… oh my god… you’re all the way in… mmmmm… I can feel you so deep in my ass…”



Allan stayed still again, letting her feel every thick inch stretching her. Then he began to move — very slow, shallow thrusts at first, pulling back just an inch or two before sliding back in. The wet, squelching sounds of her ass gripping his cock were soft but unmistakable.



Gradually, the thrusts grew longer and harder. Allan started fucking her ass with deeper, more powerful strokes. Each thrust made her body jolt forward, her heavy breasts swinging beneath her.



“Fuck… your ass is squeezing me so tight,” he groaned, his voice getting rougher. “Such a greedy little asshole. You love having a white cock deep in your Indian ass, don’t you?”



Mom’s moans grew louder and more intense as the discomfort slowly turned into raw pleasure.



“Ahhh… yes… harder… mmmmm… fuck my ass… ahhhhh… it’s starting to feel so good…”



Allan picked up the pace, fucking her ass with steady, hard thrusts now. The sound of his hips slapping against her round butt cheeks grew louder — slap… slap… slap… — mixing with Mom’s constant, horny moans.



“Ahhhh… oh god… Allan… you’re fucking my ass so deep… mmmmm… don’t stop… ahhhhh!”



Her pussy continued dripping freely onto my bedsheet, making the wet spot even larger. The mixture of her juices and Allan’s pre-cum had created a messy, shiny patch right beneath where her body was rocking.



Allan gripped her hips tighter and started pounding her ass harder, his thick cock sliding in and out of her stretched asshole with long, powerful strokes.



“That’s my good slut,” he growled. “Taking my cock in your ass like a whore while your husband sleeps next door. Your son’s bed is going to smell like your ass and my cum tonight.”



Mom’s moans turned into loud, broken cries of pleasure.



“Ahhhhh… yes… fuck me harder… mmmmm… I’m your slut… ahhhh… oh god… I’m cumming again… mmmmmmm!”



Her body started shaking violently as another orgasm built rapidly from the intense anal fucking.



Allan kept thrusting harder, his balls slapping against her soaked pussy with every deep stroke, driving her closer and closer to the edge once more.



Allan was now fucking Mom’s ass with deep, powerful strokes. The bed creaked rhythmically under them as his hips slapped against her firm, round bubble butt. Mom’s moans had turned into loud, broken cries of pleasure.



“Ahhhh… Allan… yes… fuck my ass harder… mmmmm… ahhhhh!”



Allan leaned over her back, one hand gripping her hip while the other reached underneath to rub her clit. His voice was low, rough, and filthy as he pounded into her.



“That’s it, Amrutha… take my cock deep in your married Indian ass. You’re such a dirty little slut now. Your husband is sleeping right down the hall and here you are… getting your tight asshole stretched by his boss.”



Mom’s body shook with every hard thrust. Her pussy dripped steadily onto my bedsheet, adding to the messy wet patch already there from her juices and Allan’s pre-cum.



“Ahhhh… yes… I’m your slut… fuck me… ahhhhh… I’m going to cum again… mmmmm!”



Allan’s breathing grew heavier. His thrusts became faster and more urgent.



“I’m close, baby,” he groaned. “I’ve been saving this load for you… gonna fill your Indian ass with my cum.”



Mom pushed her ass back desperately to meet his strokes.



“Yes… cum inside me… fill my ass… ahhhhh… please!”



With a deep, guttural groan, Allan buried himself to the hilt inside her ass and started cumming. His thick white cock pulsed hard as he unloaded rope after rope of hot cum deep into her bowels.



“Fuuuuck… take it all… every drop…”



Mom let out a long, trembling moan as she felt him flooding her ass.



“Ahhhhhhh… I can feel it… so much… mmmmm… it’s so warm inside me…”



Allan kept his cock buried deep while he emptied himself completely, his hips twitching with each spurt. When he finally finished, he stayed inside her for a few more seconds, letting her feel the fullness.



Slowly, he pulled out. The moment his cock left her stretched asshole, a thick trickle of white cum began leaking from her gaping hole. It flowed slowly down toward her pussy, mixing with her own juices before dripping onto my bedsheet, creating a creamy, messy puddle.



Mom let out a soft, exhausted whimper and collapsed forward onto her belly on the bed. Her legs were still slightly raised and spread, her body writhing gently as aftershocks of pleasure ran through her. Her ass remained slightly elevated, allowing more of Allan’s cum to leak out slowly from her used asshole, flowing down over her pussy lips and soaking into the bedsheet beneath her.



Allan rolled to her side, breathing heavily. He leaned over and kissed her softly on her sweaty back, then lower on her round ass cheeks.



“You were amazing, Amrutha,” he whispered tenderly. “Such a good girl.”



Mom turned her head slightly on the pillow and gave him a tired but deeply satisfied smile.



Allan got up from the bed and started dressing. As he pulled on his shorts, he noticed my t-shirt hanging on the hook near the bed — the one I had worn that morning. He grabbed it without hesitation, wiped his softening cock and balls with it, then casually tossed the used t-shirt toward Mom.



“Here… clean yourself up.”



Mom was still lying on her belly, exhausted and gently writhing. She slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position on the edge of the bed, her legs spread. Thick white cum continued to leak from her asshole, flowing down over her pussy and dripping onto the bedsheet. She picked up my t-shirt, looked at it for a moment, then used it to wipe between her legs. She carefully cleaned the creamy mess from her pussy and ass, her movements slow and sensual. Even in her exhausted state, there was a look of deep satisfaction on her face.



She looked up at Allan with a soft, cunning smile — the kind that carried memories of their very first time.



Allan was almost fully dressed when he paused. He looked at her, then at the Thaali still hanging between her breasts and the diamond wedding ring on her left hand. A wicked glint appeared in his eyes.



“Remember the first time?” he asked quietly.



Mom’s smile widened just a fraction. She lifted her left hand slightly, showing him the sparkling diamond wedding ring her husband had given her twenty years ago.

He stepped closer, gently took her left hand and lifted it. He aimed the head of his still-leaking cock directly over the sparkling diamond. A few thick drops of his cum oozed out and landed right on the ring, coating the symbol of her marriage.

“That’s all… the last drops,” Allan said with a naughty giggle.

Mom gave him a sultry look, her eyes half-lidded with satisfaction.
“Yeah… you have unloaded everything in me, right?” she said with a naughty smile.

She slowly brought the cum-coated diamond ring to her lips and rubbed it gently against them. Then, with the tip of her tongue, she licked the ring sensually, tasting his cum right on her wedding ring. Her eyes never left his.

Still smiling wickedly, she reached down between her legs. She rubbed her fingers along her soaked pussy slit, scooping up the still-flowing thick white cum that was leaking from her freshly fucked asshole. With the same wicked smile, she brought her cum-covered fingers up and slowly rubbed it all over her Thaali, smearing his seed onto the sacred marriage chain.


Allan watched her with a big naughty smile, clearly enjoying the filthy sight.

Allan finished dressing, checked his watch, and raised an eyebrow.



“It’s almost 9 pm. I should head out before your husband wakes up.”



He leaned down, gave Mom one last gentle kiss on the lips, and whispered something I couldn’t hear. Then he walked toward the door.

[shivkajan]

Chapter 12



I quickly hurried downstairs, my heart racing. I switched on the TV in the living room and pretended to be casually watching it, trying to look normal even though my legs were still shaky.



A minute later, Allan came down the stairs. He looked calm and composed, as if nothing had happened. He stopped near the sofa and gave me a friendly smile.



“Alright, Sid. Thanks for today. It was a great golf session. I’ll see you soon.”



I forced an awkward smile, knowing full well that he had just finished pounding my mom senseless in my own bed.



“Yeah… see you, Allan.”



He gave me a small nod and walked out the front door.



I stayed in the living room for another fifteen minutes, pretending to watch the show while my mind replayed everything I had just witnessed.



At around 9:30 pm, I heard soft footsteps on the stairs.



Mom came down wearing the same pink golf skirt and white sleeveless polo she had worn earlier. Her hair was slightly messy, her face still flushed, and there was a visible glow of satisfaction around her. She looked beautifully disheveled — like a woman who had just been thoroughly fucked. Her walk was a little careful, a little tender, as if she could still feel Allan inside her.



She paused at the bottom of the stairs, looked at me for a moment, then gave a small, tired but content smile.



“I’m going to make some tea. Do you want some, Siddharth?”



Her voice was soft and natural, as if the last hour had been nothing more than a quiet evening chat.



About ten minutes later, Mom came down from upstairs carrying two cups of steaming tea. She had changed nothing — she was still wearing the same pink golf skirt and white sleeveless polo from the golf session. Her shoulder-length hair was a little messy, strands sticking to her flushed neck. There was a soft, satisfied glow on her bright mocha face, and her walk was noticeably slower, more careful, as if she could still feel the effects of what had just happened upstairs.



She placed one cup in front of me on the coffee table and sat down on the sofa right beside me, close enough that I could smell her.



The scent hit me immediately — a strong, unmistakable mixture of sex. It was the heavy, musky smell of a well-fucked woman: her own arousal, Allan’s cum, sweat, and faint traces of his cologne. Her skin still carried the faint scent of fresh sex. I could even detect the subtle aroma of her asshole and pussy mixed together. It was raw and intimate.



I tried to act normal, but my eyes kept drifting to the signs.



Her lips were still slightly swollen from all the kissing and sucking. There were faint red marks on her neck that she hadn’t bothered to hide completely. Her polo was a little wrinkled, and I could see small damp patches near her chest where Allan’s saliva and pre-cum had soaked through earlier. Most telling was the way she sat — legs pressed together carefully, as if trying to contain the mess still leaking from her ass and pussy.



Mom took a slow sip of her tea and glanced at me sideways.



“So… how was the TV?” she asked casually, her voice soft and warm, as if we were having an ordinary mother-son conversation.



I swallowed hard. “It’s okay… just some random show.”



She nodded slowly, then took another sip. The golden bangles on her wrist chimed softly. For a few moments, there was comfortable silence. Then she noticed something.



Her eyes dropped to my lap.



There was a visible damp patch on the front of my shorts — the clear evidence of how much I had stroked myself while watching them. The fabric was darkened where I had leaked pre-cum repeatedly.

Mom’s eyes lingered there for a second. Then something clicked in her mind.



She remembered.



The master bedroom door could be locked, but my room door had never been fixed — it couldn’t be fully closed or locked. It had always been left slightly ajar on purpose so my parents could check on me when I was younger.



Her expression changed subtly. She realized I must have been standing right outside the door the entire time, watching everything — the kissing, the fingering of both her holes, the blowjob, the hard fucking, and Allan cumming deep inside her ass.



She spoke casually, almost playfully.



“Siddharth… what did you do while we were upstairs? Did you check on your dad like you said?”



I panicked. My face turned red instantly. I stammered, trying to sound normal.



“I… uh… yes, I checked on Dad. He’s still sleeping soundly. Snoring loudly.”



Mom nodded slowly, her sparkling eyes studying my face. She clearly didn’t believe I had just checked on Dad and come back down. She knew I had watched.



Then another thought seemed to hit her.



She remembered that she had left her soaked white boy shorts somewhere in my room. And they had wiped Allan’s cock and her own mess with my t-shirt — the same t-shirt that was now probably lying crumpled on my floor, covered in cum and her juices.



For a brief second, I saw a flicker of realization and mild embarrassment cross her face. But then she simply shrugged it off internally. She decided not to care.



Mom simply took another sip of her tea. A small, knowing smile touched the corner of her lips.



She leaned back a little on the sofa and spoke casually, but her words carried a subtle message only I would understand.



“You know, Siddharth… some doors in this house have never been properly fixed,” she said softly, her eyes meeting mine for a brief second. “They’ve always stayed a little open… whether we want them to or not.”



She let the words hang in the air for a moment, then continued in the same gentle tone, “But that’s okay. Sometimes it’s better when things are not completely closed.”



Her message was clear. She knew I had seen everything. She knew I had watched her get fucked in my own room. And she was subtly letting me know that she was aware of it — without making it awkward or confrontational.



I felt my face heat up, but I just nodded quietly.



We sat in silence for a while, sipping our tea. The air between us felt strangely intimate now.



After finishing her tea, Mom stood up slowly.



“I should go check on your dad,” she said gently. “He must still be sleeping.”



As she turned and walked toward the stairs, I noticed it clearly.



There was a noticeable damp patch on the back of her pink golf skirt — right where her ass and upper thighs met. The fabric was darkened and slightly wet. It was obvious that Allan’s cum was still leaking from her freshly fucked asshole, slowly dripping down while she had been sitting beside me on the sofa. The creamy mess had soaked through her boy shorts (or whatever was left of them) and was now staining the back of her skirt.



She walked up the stairs with that same careful, tender gait, the damp patch shifting slightly with each step.



I stayed on the sofa, my mind replaying everything I had witnessed tonight.



Mom had just had intense sex in my room, taken a huge load in her ass, wiped herself with my t-shirt, and then come down to have tea with me like nothing had happened — all while knowing I had watched the whole thing.



And now, as she went upstairs to lie down beside my snoring father, Allan’s cum was still leaking out of her, leaving a wet trail on her skirt.




The night felt heavier than ever.

[dk1235]

superb

[Paty@123]

Excellent

[Glenlivet]

Well-written.

[Yash121]

Outstanding story

[kaninikamini]

outstanding story , hopefully she gets pregnant next