Adultery Radiance of Vanitha, Daughter-in-Law and Instagram Influencer

[Pushpa Purusan]

Let selvam shave the private parts of Vanitha, summer and latha and make them use the designed dress. Make them wet and feel his iron rod and make them ride it.

[adams_masala]

Let selvam shave the private parts of Vanitha, summer and latha and make them use the designed dress. Make them wet and feel his iron rod and make them ride it.

I’m curious, what’s the need for shaving. They go to waxing parlor.

[LustyLeo]

I’m curious, what’s the need for shaving. They go to waxing parlor.

May be touch of selvam there would make  much difference iin kinky than another person doing it and it would make them think my man on my body. Pre shave and post shave testing with tongue to ensure everything is good would make them go mad.

[adams_masala]

May be touch of selvam there would make  much difference iin kinky than another person doing it and it would make them think my man on my body. Pre shave and post shave testing with tongue to ensure everything is good would make them go mad.

No high quality women like her won’t let men see their pussy douched and well manicured. No shaving my men.

[Dumeelkumar]

No high quality women like her won’t let men see their pussy douched and well manicured. No shaving my men.

Very true. These woman are high class ladies. They have some par.
They would not allow to do something like low class woman. 
You maintain some standard by keeping everything within the family and not allowing outsiders. Especially low class men. 

[adams_masala]

Very true. These woman are high class ladies. They have some par.
They would not allow to do something like low class woman. 
You maintain some standard by keeping everything within the family and not allowing outsiders. Especially low class men. 

Thanks man! But class and quality are two different things.

[xavierrxx]

Awesome... now both are ready for next round.

[adams_masala]

Chapter 71: Tailored Temptations

Scene 1

Summer fastened the last hook of her red choli with trembling fingers, her skin still tingling from Vanitha’s revelations. The silk hugged her breasts like a second skin. Next to her, Vanitha was doing the same with her cream choli, her movements smooth and practiced. Neither of them had spoken about what had just happened… the photos, the confessions, the permission… but it hung between them, electric and alive.

“We’ve been up here for almost an hour,” Vanitha said, glancing at the small clock on the nightstand. “Mama’s probably losing patience.”

Summer laughed, the sound shaky in her throat. “Should we go down?”

“We should.” Vanitha slipped her feet into a pair of simple sandals by the bed. “Come, dear.”

Summer’s hands trembled as she smoothed the white ruffle mini skirt down her thighs. The waist chain felt impossibly heavy now, a golden reminder of the text exchange with Selvam that had started all of this. She’d bought these clothes on Friday, before his late-night confession, before she’d sent the photo of her breasts to the app. She’d had a feeling, she’d told him. The kind of feeling that made a woman buy a low-rise skirt and a crop top when she‘d worn nothing but pencil skirts to the office for two years.

Now she knew why.

They walked downstairs together. Vanitha led. Summer watched her back, the soft sway of her hips under the white skirt, and thought about the photos in the hidden folder. Vanitha on her knees. Vanitha with her face covered in Selvam’s thickness. Vanitha looking up at the camera with her mouth open and her eyes bright.

Selvam sat on the couch when they came into the living room. He’d changed into a thin white t-shirt and linen shorts, the kind that showed the clean line of his thigh when he sat.

His eyes lifted to them when they came in.

Summer felt it like a touch. His eyes went to Vanitha first… the smooth curve of her throat, the swell of her breast under the cream silk, the small strip of bare belly between her choli and skirt… and then to Summer, a half second later. His eyes did the small thing they’d done at the café. They went to the neckline of her choli where it scooped low across her breasts, to the gold chain at her hip, to the white ruffle of her skirt where it sat low on her waist, and then, quick, back to her face.

He didn’t say anything. His mouth did the small thing a mouth did when a man had something to say and couldn’t find the words for it.

Summer could see, for the first time, the way he looked at Vanitha. Not as a father-in-law. Not as a father at all. The way his eyes went to the small gold hoop at Vanitha’s ear, to the soft of her throat, to the place where her choli pulled tight across her chest. The way his mouth went still when Vanitha moved. The way his chest rose and fell, one slow breath, when Vanitha tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

It was the look of a man who had seen every inch of the woman in front of him. Who had put his hands on her skin, who had felt her body under his, who had watched her mouth open around his thick cock. The look of a man who had taken those pictures from above, who had held the phone out to catch the moment his cock disappeared inside her.

Summer’s throat went dry. She could still see his cock in her mind. The thick shaft. The plum-colored head. The salt-pepper hair at the base. The vein that ran the length of him like a rope.

She looked at his lap.

His thin linen shorts did nothing to hide the hard line of him underneath. He’d crossed one leg over the other, the ankle resting on his knee, but the position only emphasized the swell of his erection against the fabric.

Summer’s cheeks went hot. She looked away, quick, at the cricket in the corner of the television. Nothing was happening on the screen. The batsman was at the non-striker’s end. The bowler was walking back to his mark.

“We’re sorry we took so long,” Vanitha said. She sat down on the ottoman at the end of the couch, across from Selvam. “The choli fits perfectly, Mama. The measurements were spot on.”

“They were, Selvam,” Summer said. Her voice came out higher than she’d meant it to. She sat down next to Vanitha, the white ruffle of her skirt riding up her thigh. “The app is amazing. It got everything exactly right. The cup size. The band. The waist. The…“

She stopped. She’d been about to say ‘the distance between my breasts.’ She bit her lip.

“The everything,” she finished.

Selvam nodded. “That’s good, Summer. That’s what we want. You coded the app, after all.”

“It was your idea Selvam. And the fit is incredible,” Summer said. She was talking too fast. She couldn’t stop. “You should see it, Selvam. The way it sits. The way it lifts. It’s like I’m wearing nothing at all.”

Vanitha laughed, soft. “It’s true, Mama. The tailoring is perfect.”

Summer nodded. She was gesturing with her hands now, the way she did when she got excited about code. “And the support. You wouldn’t believe the support. My breasts have never felt so…“

She stopped again. She’d been about to say ‘so perky.’ She pressed her lips together.

“So secure,” she finished.

“That’s good, Summer.”

Summer’s hands pressed the choli to demo support and comfort, deepening her cleavage. She could feel Selvam’s gaze linger, his expression tightening as he watched her.

Vanitha’s eyes went from Summer’s face to Selvam’s. She saw the look. She saw where his eyes had gone. She saw the hard line in his shorts.

She smiled, small, one corner of her mouth.

“Selvam,” she said. Her voice was even. “Guess what Summer and I discovered?”

Selvam’s eyes came up. They went to Vanitha’s face, clean, the way they always did when she spoke. “What, ma?”

Vanitha’s smile widened. “Our breasts.”

Summer’s stomach dropped. “Vanitha!”

“Are almost exactly the same size,” Vanitha continued. “And weight. To the gram.”

Selvam’s mouth opened. It closed. It opened again. “The same,” he said. His voice had gone a half shade lower.

“Identical,” Vanitha said. “We weighed them.”

Summer put her hand over her face. “Oh my god,” she said, into her palm. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“I’m telling the truth.” Vanitha’s voice was innocent. “They’re the same. Show him, Summer.”

Summer dropped her hand. She stared at Vanitha. “I am not showing him my breasts, Vanitha.”

“I didn’t mean now,” Vanitha laughed. “I meant the choli. The fit. It’s the same on both of us.”

Summer looked at Selvam. His face had gone still. The small line between his eyebrows had deepened. His eyes had gone to the neckline of her choli again, to the small valley between her breasts where the silk pulled tight.

Selvam stood up. The movement was quick. He’d been sitting with one leg crossed over the other, and when he stood, the thin linen of his shorts pulled tight across the front of him.

Summer’s eyes went there to his crotch, before she could stop them.

The hard line of him was unmistakable now. The thin fabric did nothing to hide the thick length of his erection, the head of it pushing against the waistband of his shorts, the shaft running down the inside of his thigh.

Summer’s mouth went dry. She’d seen it in the photos. The thick shaft. The plum-colored head. The salt-pepper hair at the base. But seeing it in person, even through fabric, was different. More real. More present.

She looked up at his face.

He was looking at her. His eyes had gone dark. The small line between his eyebrows had smoothed out. His mouth had gone soft at the corners.

Summer felt her breath catch. The room felt suddenly smaller, the air between them charged with something she couldn’t name.

“I should...” Selvam started. He stopped. He cleared his throat. “I should get some water.”

He turned. He walked to the kitchen. His steps were measured. His shoulders were straight. The thin linen of his shorts still did nothing to hide the hard line of him from behind.

“He‘s going to be a while,” Vanitha said. She was smiling, the small half-corner of her mouth. “He needs a minute.”

Summer nodded. Her throat was too dry for words.

Vanitha’s hand squeezed her knee. “He liked the choli, dear.”

Summer looked at her. “He liked more than the choli.”

Vanitha’s smile widened. “He did.”

Summer’s stomach did a small flip. “Vanitha.”

“What, dear?”

“Is this really happening?”

Vanitha‘s hand came up. She brushed a strand of hair from Summer’s face. Her touch was soft. “It’s happening, dear. Whatever happens next is up to you.”

Summer looked at the kitchen doorway. Selvam had disappeared through it. She could hear the small sound of the refrigerator opening, the clink of a glass on the counter.

She looked back at Vanitha. “I don’t know what to do.”

Vanitha’s smile was warm. “Yes, you do, dear. You just don’t know you know it yet.”

Scene 2

Summer stood abruptly, “I should use the bathroom,” she said, her voice higher than normal. “Before I go. If that’s okay.” She didn’t wait for an answer. She slipped past the couch, and disappeared down the hall toward the guest bathroom. The door closed with a soft click behind her.

Selvam waited until the sound of the door faded. Then he moved.

His hand shot out, fingers closing around Vanitha’s wrist. He pulled her to her feet in one smooth motion, his other hand going to the small of her back, guiding her away from the living room, toward the small hallway that led to the kitchen. His palm was damp against her skin. A fine sheen of sweat had broken out across his forehead, beading at his temples.

“Vanitha,” he said, his voice low, urgent. “We need to talk.”

Vanitha let herself be pulled. Her body moved with his, the cream silk of her choli brushing his arm as they stepped into the narrow hallway. The space was tight. Their shoulders touched. Selvam’s chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths.

“What is it, Mama?” Vanitha asked. She kept her voice soft. She could feel the rapid pulse in his wrist where his fingers gripped hers.

Selvam stopped. They were halfway down the hall, out of sight of both the living room and the kitchen. The guest bathroom door was closed at the end of the hall. Summer was inside, the small sound of running water barely audible through the door.

Selvam turned to face her. His back was to the wall. His eyes were dark.

“Summer,” he said. The word came out rough. “Summer is going to be a problem for me.”

Vanitha’s eyes widened. “A problem?”

“Yes.” Selvam’s hand was still on her wrist. His grip had loosened, but his fingers remained curled around the delicate bones. “A big problem. I don’t…“ He stopped. He took a deep breath. “I don’t trust myself around her.”

With a playful glint, she adds, "Maybe Summer will get to change her view on Indian cocks, her only ex-boyfriend is white and she thinks all Indian men are small.".

“This is not funny, ma. I am being serious.”

Vanitha didn’t move. Her breath was even. Selvam’s honesty washed over her, clean and raw and perfect. This was why she loved him. This was why she had fallen for him in Chennai, why she had let him take her to his bed, why she had opened her mouth for him, why she had swallowed for him. Not just the cock…though god, the cock…but the man. The man who looked her in the eye and told her the truth, even when the truth was hard.

“Mama,” she said. Her voice came out soft. “You’re telling me this…”

Vanitha’s heart swelled in her chest. She reached up. Her hand found his chest through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. She felt the strong beat of his heart under her palm, the small damp patch of sweat where his collarbone met his neck.

“You‘re a good man, mama,” she said.

Vanitha’s hand pressed harder against his chest. “A good man owns his desires. A good man tells the truth. A good man asks for what he wants.” Her eyes held his. “You’re doing all three.”

Selvam’s breath caught. His hand on her cheek trembled, small. “Vanitha.”

“I know, Mama.” Her voice was steady.

Vanitha stepped forward. She closed the space he’d created. Her body was inches from his. “Don’t apologize for wanting her. Don’t apologize for looking.” Her hand came up to his chest again. She felt the strong beat of his heart under her palm. “Wanting is human, Mama. Looking is human.”

Selvam’s eyes searched hers.

Vanitha smiled. The small half-corner of her mouth turned up. “Mama, I wan you to let things flow organically. Don’t force anything away, don’t push anything forward. That’s the wisdom I’ve learned.”

Selvam’s brow furrowed. “Organically?”

“Yes.” Vanitha’s hand slid up his chest to his shoulder. Her fingers traced the line of his collarbone through the cotton. “If something happens between you and Summer, let it happen because it’s meant to happen. Not because you’re forcing it, not because you’re running from it.” Her eyes held his. “Just let it be.”

Selvam’s breath came out in a rush. “You would be okay with that? With me and Summer?”

Vanitha’s smile widened. A playful glint came into her eye. “Like I said, maybe Summer will get to change her view on Indian cocks,” she said.

Selvam‘s face flushed deep red. “Vanitha!”

“What?” Vanitha laughed, soft. “It’s true. She told me. She thought they were all small. She’s in for a surprise.”

Selvam’s hand came up. It covered hers on his chest. His palm was hot against her skin. “Vanitha, I don’t… I can’t… I don’t think.. “

“Mama.” Vanitha’s voice was gentle. “You deserve to taste what you desire.” She leaned closer. Her breath was warm against his ear. “I know you’ll always come back to me. A man like you needs freedom to explore, and a woman like me is confident enough to give it.”

Selvam’s hand tightened on hers. “Vanitha.”

“Don’t force anything, at the same time don’t stop anything from happening, mama.”

Summer appeared at the end of the hall.

“Sorry,” Summer said. Her voice was small. “I did not mean to...”

“You did not, dear.” Vanitha stepped back from Selvam. Her hand came down off his chest slow. She turned to face Summer in the hall. “We were talking about the boutique. About Elena.”

Summer nodded, the skin at her throat suddenly warm as she pictured Selvam’s hand on Vanitha’s wrist a moment ago, their bodies close in the narrow hallway.

“I should go.” Summer sensed she might have been a 3rd wheel.

“No, Dear. You just came.”

“I have... I have to write the Zoom… I mean email to Elena’s boss tonight.” Summer’s hand was on the strap of the small bag over her shoulder. The fingers had gone tight around it. “I told Elena I would have it to her by midnight her time. I forgot about the time difference. I have to...”

Summer’s gaze dropped to the floor. “I should go,” she said, her voice barely audible. “Ashok and Latha won’t be back until seven.” Her eyes flickered up to meet Vanitha’s, lingering just long enough for understanding to pass between them… a silent acknowledgment of what would happen in her absence.

Selvam nodded. He couldn‘t speak. His throat was too dry.

Summer’s fingers fumbled with the clasp of her bag. She couldn’t get it closed. Her eyes kept coming back to his face, to his chest, to the hard line in his shorts.

Summer finally got her bag closed. She slung it over her shoulder. “I’ll see myself out,” she said. She didn’t move. Her eyes were still on Selvam’s face. “Thank you for having me. For the choli. For everything.”

Selvam found his voice. “You’re welcome, Summer,” he said. The words came out rough. “Any time.”

Summer nodded. She took a step toward the door. Then she stopped. She turned back.

“Selvam,” she said. His name in her mouth sent a jolt through him. “I’ll see you Sunday? For the meeting with Elena‘s boss?”

“Yes,” Selvam said. “Sunday.”

Summer nodded again. She turned. She walked to the door. Her heels clicked on the hardwood. The white ruffle of her skirt swayed with each step. The red choli pulled tight across her back.

She opened the door. She stepped through it. She closed it behind her with a soft click.

The room went quiet.

Selvam stood where he was. His heart was pounding. His skin felt too tight. His cock was hard against his shorts.

Vanitha moved. She came across the room to him. She stopped a foot away. Her eyes were on his face.

“She’s gone,” she said. Her voice was soft.

“Yes,” Selvam said.

Vanitha smiled. The small half-corner of her mouth turned up. “What are you going to do about it, Mama?”

Selvam looked at her. At the cream silk of her choli across her chest. At the small gold hoop in her ear. At the soft of her throat where her pulse beat.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he said.

Vanitha’s smile widened. “Yes,” she said. “You are.”

Selvam moved. His hand came up. It cupped the back of her neck. His fingers tangled in the damp ends of her hair. He pulled her to him.

His mouth found hers. It was hungry. Desperate. Overwhelmed by her understanding, by her generosity, by the day’s temptations.

Vanitha’s lips parted under his. Her body pressed against his. Her hands came up to his chest. She pushed him back, toward the wall.

Selvam went. His back hit the plaster. Vanitha’s body followed, her breasts pressing against his chest through the thin silk of her choli. Her knee came up between his legs. It pressed against the hard line of his cock.

Selvam groaned into her mouth. His hand slid down her back. It cupped the round of her ass through the white skirt. He lifted her, small, bringing her more firmly against him.

Vanitha’s arms went around his neck. Her fingers tangled in his hair. She pulled his head down, deepening the kiss. Her tongue slid against his. Her teeth caught his lower lip.

“I want to see that cock Summer was staring at all day, mama”

Vanitha’s words were a small heat against his throat. Selvam felt them before he heard them. Then his hands were on her shoulders and he was turning her, and her back was the soft press against the wall now, the cream silk of her choli catching on the small grain of the plaster.

“Vanitha.” His voice was not his voice.

“On the wall, mama.” Her smile was the smile he knew. The half-corner. The bright in her eye. Her hand was already at the waistband of his shorts. “Right here.”

“Vanitha.” He looked down the hall. The front door was closed. The small line of light at the bottom did not move. The clock in the kitchen ticked the small ticks. The house was empty. Ashok was in San Francisco. Latha was with him. Summer’s car was gone. He had heard the engine catch in the driveway and the small fade of it down the street. “Here?”

“Here, mama.” Her fingers had gone under the elastic. The waistband was loose now. The thin linen sat on the small of his hip. “Let me. Please.”

He could not say no. He had not been able to say no to her since Chennai. He had not wanted to.

She went down.

She went down slow. The cream silk of her choli pulled tight across her chest as she folded. Her knees met the rug runner on the hallway floor. The hardwood under the runner was solid. She put one hand on the front of his thigh, flat, to steady herself. The other hand pulled the linen down.

His cock came out in the small dim of the hall. The head was thick and dark. The shaft was full. The waxed shaft at the base caught the small light from the window at the end of the hall the way it had caught the light in the backyard in Chennai.

Vanitha breathed in.

“Mama.” She said it small. Her face was a hand’s width from him. He could feel her breath on the head of his cock. The breath was warm. “Look at you.”

“Vanitha.”

“She was looking, mama.” Her eyes came up to his face. The bright in them was the bright. “All afternoon. Every time you crossed your leg. Every time you uncrossed it. Every time the linen rode up your thigh. Poor Summer.”

His hand went to her head. The damp ends of her hair caught between his fingers. He did not push. He did not pull. He let his palm rest on the back of her skull and he felt the small warm shape of her under his hand.

“Vanitha.” The word came out rough.

Her tongue came out. She did not take him in her mouth yet. She licked the underside, slow, one long flat drag from the base to the tip, and he felt the warm wet of it the way he had felt it the first time in Chennai, and his knees went a small amount soft under him.

He put his other hand against the wall. Flat. The plaster was cool against his palm.

“Vanitha.”

“Shh, mama.” Her thumb moved at the base of his shaft. She was looking up at him. The eyes were the eyes from the photo in the backyard. Big. Bright. The lash long. “Let me.”

She opened her mouth.

She took the head in slow. Her lips closed around the ridge under the head and held there, soft, the way she held when she was not in a hurry. He felt the warm of her tongue under the tip. He felt the small hard pull of her cheeks. He looked down the line of his own body and he saw her face, the full of it, his cock at her mouth, the cream silk of her choli pulled tight across her chest, and the picture from her hidden folder slotted itself over the top of the picture in front of him and the two pictures became the same picture.

He breathed out, slow, through his teeth.

She took him deeper. The shaft went past her lips, past the soft of her tongue, to the back of her throat where the warm went tight. She held there. Her nose was a half inch from the salt-pepper at his base. Her eyes did not leave his face.

“Vanitha.. ahh.. look at me”

She looked at him with her eye lashes and big eyes with his cock slowly making its way into her little mouth.

Scene 3

Summer was halfway to her home when she realized she’d left her phone in the living room. She’d unplugged it from the wall that morning when she’d been checking her messages, and in the rush to leave after that awkward moment with Selvam, she’d forgotten to grab it. She turned around and hesitated at the end of the driveway, the warm afternoon sun on her bare shoulders. She needs the phone to unlock her house. She’d need it to get work done. With a sigh, she turned back toward the house.

The front door was unlocked. Summer pushed it open quietly, not wanting to announce her return. Maybe she could slip in, grab the phone, and slip out again without anyone noticing. The living room was empty when she entered. The television was still on, the cricket match playing silently in the corner. Summer’s eyes went to the outlet by the couch. Her charger and the phone was there, the white cable coiled neatly next to the phone.

She moved quickly across the room. She bent to pick up the charger and the phone, stuffing it into her bag without uncoiling it. As she straightened, a sound from the hallway caught her attention… a soft moan, followed by a deeper, masculine groan.

Summer froze. Her eyes went to the hallway that led to the kitchen. The sounds were coming from there… the soft pad of feet, the rustle of clothing, a whispered word she couldn’t quite make out.

She took a step toward the hallway. Then she stopped. She knew what she would see if she looked. She’d seen it already, in the photos on Vanitha’s phone. Selvam’s hand on Vanitha’s throat. Selvam’s cock pushing into Vanitha’s mouth. Selvam’s come on Vanitha’s face.

But seeing it in person would be different. More real. More present.

Summer’s breath caught. Her skin felt too tight. The red choli pulled across her chest as her breathing quickened. She took another step toward the hallway. Then another.

The sounds grew louder. A thud, as if someone had been pushed against a wall. A gasp. A low, hungry moan.

Summer reached the mouth of the hallway. She peered around the corner.

Selvam had Vanitha pressed against the wall. His body was curved over hers, one hand at the small of her back, the other tangled in her hair. Vanitha‘s arms were around his neck. Her head was tilted back. Selvam’s mouth was on her throat, working its way up to her jaw, to the corner of her mouth.

Summer’s stomach dropped. She‘d known. She’d seen the photos. She’d heard Vanitha’s confession. But seeing them together, in the flesh, Selvam’s broad shoulders blocking Vanitha’s smaller frame, his hand sliding down to cup her ass through the white skirt… it was different. It was real.

She took a step back. Her heel caught the edge of the rug. She stumbled, small, catching herself on the arm of the couch.

Neither of them heard. Vanitha’s back was to Summer now, her cream choli half-off one shoulder, her body pressing Selvam against the wall. From this angle, Summer could see the waistband of Selvam’s shorts riding low on his hips, his smooth, freshly waxed skin catching the hallway light. Vanitha’s skirt was bunched up, and as she shifted, Summer caught a fleeting glimpse of Selvam’s bare, hairless lower belly… and just for an instant, the glossy crown of his cock slipping free before Vanitha’s body moved and the fabric fell back into place.

Summer’s mouth went dry. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She couldn’t look away, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. The sight of him…exposed, aroused, forbidden… even a glimpse of it sent a jolt of heat through her body that pooled low in her belly.

Vanitha shifted, her hips rocking forward. Selvam’s hands gripped her waist, his fingers digging into the fabric of her skirt. His head fell back against the wall, eyes closed, throat working as he swallowed.

Summer backed away, one silent step at a time. Her bag clutched against her chest, her breathing shallow. She reached behind her, fingers fumbling until they found the doorknob. She turned it slowly, wincing at the barely audible click.

The door opened. She slipped through it. She closed it behind her with the gentlest pressure, holding the knob turned until the latch settled silently into place. She stood on the front step, her back to the door, her heart pounding.

Summer’s skin felt too tight. Her choli pulled across her chest. Her nipples had hardened against the silk. Between her legs, she was wet… clean wet, the kind that didn’t need a hand to know it was wet.

As she drove, her mind kept going back to the hallway. To Selvam’s body curved over Vanitha’s. To his hand in her hair. To the small red mark on his neck. To the hard line in his shorts. She pictured that brief, unexpected flash of his bare, waxed skin..so different from the salt-and-pepper hair she’d seen in the photos. The memory made her lips twitch into a private, amused smile.

She thought about Sunday. About the meeting with Elena’s boss. About sitting across from Selvam at the table. About knowing what she knew. About seeing his cock in the photos. About the possibility… the permission… Vanitha had given her.

Her foot pressed harder on the gas. The car accelerated. The wind through the open window cooled her hot cheeks.

She wondered if she would ever act on what she knew. If she would ever tell Selvam she had seen the photos. If she would ever tell him, she saw her kiss his daughter-in-law.

Summer could not control the smile when she wondered, if she would ever feel his hand in her hair, his mouth on her throat, his cock pushing into her mouth.

She wondered if she would ever change her view on Indian cocks.

She smiled, small, at the road.

Inside the house, the hallway was empty. Selvam had moved. He’d pulled Vanitha with him, back toward the living room, away from the door.

Now they stood in the center of the room. Selvam’s hands were on Vanitha’s waist. His fingers dug into the soft of her through the white skirt. His eyes were dark. His breath came quick.

Selvam’s hand came up. It cupped the back of her neck. His fingers tangled in the damp ends of her hair. “Vanitha,” he said. Her name in his mouth was a prayer.

“Take me to bed, Mama,” Vanitha whispered. “Show me what you’ve been thinking about all day.”

[LustyLeo]

Super. Husband fucking wife. No more thrill though. Summer is now winter down.
Why Vanitha calling him mama even when alone. Let them call baby, darling, sexy, sweetie etc etc.

[adams_masala]

Super. Husband fucking wife. No more thrill though. Summer is now winter down.
Why Vanitha calling him mama even when alone. Let them call baby, darling, sexy, sweetie etc etc.

Because she’s modern yet traditional girl.

[adams_masala]

Chapter 72: Vanitha moaning through Summer's Fantasy

Selvam’s hand came up. It cupped the back of her neck. His fingers tangled in the damp ends of her hair. “Vanitha,” he said. Her name in his mouth was a prayer.


“Take me to bed, Mama,” Vanitha whispered. “Show me what you’ve been thinking about all day.”

“Not yet, dear” 

He draws her to the sectional couch, eyes smoldering. “You know my favorite thing?” he murmurs, lips close to her navel. 

“Seeing your panties come down from under your skirt while you still have your skirt on.”

His grabbed her thigh and slowly raised his arms to grab her fleshy ass cheeks, as Vanitha lifted onto the balls of her feet, just enough to give him the angle he wanted. His thumbs hooked under the white ruffle and pushed up, the cotton bunching at her hips. The skirt rode up the back of her thighs and over the round of her ass, and the small white thong came into the small dim of the living room light.

He looked.

The thong was the small one. A triangle of white cotton at the front. A thin band at the hip. The string of it disappeared between the cheeks of her ass. The fabric at the front was already a shade darker where the wet of her had soaked through.
He breathed out, slow, through his teeth.

“Mama.” Her voice came from above him. Small. Soft. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what, dear.”

“Like you’re going to eat me.”

He laughed. One small breath of it. He kept his hands on her ass under the skirt, the warm of her under his palms, and he tilted his head back to look at her face.

She was looking down at him. The cream silk of her choli pulled tight across her chest. The small gold hoop at her ear. The half-knot of her hair coming the rest of the way down, the damp ends on her shoulder. Her bottom lip between her teeth.

“I’m going to do more than that, dear.”

“Mama.”

His hand slid around to the front of her hip. He hooked one finger under the thin band of the thong. He pulled, slow, the small white triangle peeling away from her front.

The thong caught.

It caught the way he had known it would catch. The wet of her had soaked the cotton into the soft folds of her, and as he pulled the front down the small slow inch, the fabric did not come away clean. It pulled out of her, slow, the way a thing pulled out of a thing it had been inside.

Vanitha’s breath went in through her teeth.

“Mama.”

“I see, dear.”

“Don’t tease… me”

“I’m not teasing.”

He was teasing. He pulled the thong the next slow inch. It came down off the front of her, the small white triangle wet at the center, a thin string of her wet stretching from the gusset of the cotton to the small pink of her folds before it broke.

He watched the string break.

He watched the small bright drop of her catch on the edge of the cotton and hang there, a half second, before it fell.

“Vanitha.”

“Mama, please.”

He did not pull the thong off. He left it where it was. Halfway down her thighs. The small white band of it on the soft fair skin a hand’s width above her knees. The skirt still on, bunched at her hip in the front, falling clean over the back of her ass where his other hand still held the warm of her.

He sat back. He let his eyes go down the length of her.

“Mama, you’re staring.”

“I am, dear.”

“Don’t stare. Do something.”

He laughed, small. He brought his hand from her ass around to the front of her thigh. He ran his palm up the fair of it, slow, from the band of the thong to the soft of her hip. The skin under his palm was warm. The small fine of the hair on her thigh caught against his palm.

“Mama.”

“Sit, dear.”

“Sit?”

“On the couch. Next to me.”

She blinked at him. The small line came between her brows. “I thought.”

“Sit, ma. Do as I say.”

She sat.

She sat next to him on the leather, the small thump of her weight on the cushion, and the thong stayed where it was on her thighs because she did not lift it and he did not lift it, and the white skirt rode up the back of her ass when she sat and the leather was cool against the bare of her there and she made a small sound at the cool.

He turned to her.

He put his hand on her knee. He pushed.

Her knees parted, slow, the thong stretched between them at the middle of her thighs, the small white band of cotton a thin line across the open of her. Her folds were the small pink he had seen in the pictures and the small pink he had seen in the bed in Chennai and the small pink he had not stopped thinking about in three weeks. They were wet. The wet caught the light from the window.

He breathed out.

“Mama.”

“Quiet, dear.”

He went down off the couch.

He went down the way she had gone down in the hallway, the small slow of his knees on the rug, his weight settling on the floor in front of her. He put his hands on the inside of her knees. He pushed them the small last inch wider. The thong stretched the small last inch with them and held.

“Mama, the door.”

“The door is locked.”

“Summer could come back.”

“Summer is gone, dear. I heard her car.”

“Mama.”

“Quiet, Vanitha.”

He put his mouth on the inside of her thigh, soft, just above the small white band of the thong. The skin under his lips was warm. The small fine of the hair caught against his bottom lip. He kissed her there. He moved up. The next kiss was a half inch higher. The next one was higher still.

Her hand came down. Her fingers went into his hair. They did not push. They did not pull. They rested.

“Mama.”

He kissed the next inch. The skin of her thigh went softer the higher he went, the small fair of it going to the warmer cream at the crease of her hip. He could smell her now. The clean smell of her, the warm smell, the smell that had been on his pillow in Chennai for three weeks after she had gone back to California.

He closed his eyes for a half breath.

He opened them.

He moved his mouth the last inch.

His tongue went flat against the small pink of her folds, slow, one long drag from the bottom to the top, the way she had licked the underside of his cock in the hallway, a mirror of the thing she had done to him a half hour ago.

Vanitha’s back came up off the couch.

“Mama!”

Her voice was loud. He felt it more than he heard it. Her thigh shook under his palm. Her fingers went tight in his hair.

“Shh, dear.”

“Don’t do that, mama. Stop. That’s gross.”

He smiled against her. He could not help the smile. The corner of his mouth went up against the soft of her.

“Gross, dear?”

“Gross. That’s so gross.” Her thighs did not close. Her thighs went a half inch wider. Her hips ground forward, small, against his mouth. “Stop, mama. You are making me blush. Don’t… do that.”

“You want me to stop, ma?”

“Yes.”

“Say it again, dear.”

“Stop.”
Her hips ground forward again, harder. Her hand in his hair held him there. The wet of her was clean on his tongue and his lip and his chin.

He laughed against her, small. The laugh moved his bottom lip against the small hard of her clit and her thigh shook again.

“Mama, ah… ahh..”

He went back down. He took the small hard of her clit between his lips, soft, the way she liked. He held it there. He let his tongue move against the underside of it, slow, a small flat back-and-forth.

“Oh god.”

“Shh.”

“It’s gross, mama. Don’t. Don’t do that.”

“Mm.”

“You shouldn’t. A man like you. You shouldn’t do this.”

He hummed against her. The sound went into her and her hips came up off the couch the small inch.

“A man like me, dear?”

“A man like you.”

“What kind of man, ma?”

She did not answer. Her mouth was open. Her eyes were closed. Her head was back against the leather. The cream silk of the choli moved with the quick of her breath. The small gold hoop at her ear caught the light.

He went back to the small hard of her clit. He sucked, soft. He let his tongue do the small flat thing against the underside.

Her thighs shook. The small white band of the thong stretched between them. The cotton was wet now where it had not been wet before, the wet from his mouth and the wet from her mixed.

“Mama, please.”

“Please what, dear.”

“Please don’t stop.”

He smiled against her. The smile went up the corner of his mouth and he did not stop.

He went the small slow length of her with his tongue. He went from the small wet at the bottom up the small pink to the small hard at the top. He did it the way he had learned to do it on her in Chennai. He did it slow because she liked it slow. He did it because he had been thinking about doing it from the second she had come down the stairs in the cream choli.

Her hand in his hair tightened.

“Mama.”

“Mm.”

“Mama, ahh.. ah...”

He looked up the line of her body. Past the bunched white of the skirt. Past the small bare of her belly. Past the cream silk of the choli pulled tight across her chest where the small hard of her nipples pressed up against the silk. Past the soft of her throat where the thali chain was not. To her face.

Her eyes were closed. Her mouth was open.

He went back down.

He put his tongue flat at the bottom and he dragged it up the small slow length of her again, and on the way up he caught the small pink of her clit between his lips and he held it there and he sucked, soft.

“Mama, gross. Stop.”

Her hips came up off the couch the small inch. Her thigh shook against his palm.

“You taste like the mango lassi I make for you, dear.”

“Mama!”

“You do.”

“That is not. That is not a thing you say.”

“It is, dear.”

“Stop saying it.”

“You taste sweet, ma. Like a mango. The small wet at the bottom is sweet. The small hard at the top is sweet.”

“Mama, ah ah...”

She was not saying stop now. She was saying ah. She was saying ah small and quick and her hand in his hair was not resting anymore. Her hand was holding. Her fingers were tight in the hair at the back of his head and she was holding him where he was.
He went where she held him.

He put his mouth on the hard hood at the top and he sucked, soft, and he held the suck. He let his tongue do the small flat back-and-forth on the underside the way she liked. He did not move. He did not go faster. He did the same thing in the same place at the same speed because she liked it.

Her thigh shook harder.

“Mama.”

“Mm.”

“Mama, I am... ahh...”

“Mm.”

“Don’t stop. Please. Don’t stop, mama. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

He did not stop.

He brought his hand up off the inside of her knee and he slid it up the small fair of her thigh, slow, past the small white band of the thong stretched across the middle of her legs, to the small soft at the crease of her hip. He turned his hand. He brought one finger to the small wet at the bottom of her.

He pushed it in.

Her back came up off the couch. The cream silk of the choli rose with her. The small gold hoop at her ear caught the light from the window.

“Mama!”

“Shh, dear.”

“Mama, oh god, mama.”

His finger went in to the second knuckle. The warm of her was the warm he had not stopped thinking about. The small pull of her around the finger was the small pull. He moved the finger, slow, the small in-and-out at the same speed his tongue was doing the small flat back-and-forth on the small hard at the top.

Her thigh shook the next stage of the shake. Her stomach went tight. He could see the small line of muscle come up under the bare of her belly above the bunched white skirt.

“Mama.”

“Come, dear.”

“Mama, I am, ah ah...”

“Come.”

She came.

She came on his finger and on his mouth and on his chin. She came with her hand tight in the hair at the back of his head and her thigh shaking against the side of his face and the cream silk of the choli moving with the quick of her breath. She came small at first, the small pulse of her around his finger, and then bigger, the bigger pulse, and her hip came up off the couch and her thigh closed against the side of his head the small inch the thong let it close, and she made the small sound that was not a word.

He kept his mouth on her. He kept his finger in her. He did the small flat back-and-forth slower now, softer, the way she liked when the come was coming down.

The pulse went small. The pulse went smaller. Her thigh went soft against the side of his face. Her hand in his hair went loose.

She breathed out, long.

“Mama.”

“Mm.”

“Mama, that was.”

“I know, dear.”

“That was not. That was not gross.”

He laughed against her. The laugh moved his bottom lip against the small soft pussy lips of her where the small hard hood had been a half second ago. Her thigh shook the small last shake.

“It was gross, dear.”

“Stop.”

“You said so.”

“I said wrong.”

He pulled his finger out of her, slow. He brought it up. He looked at it in the light from the window. The wet of her was clean on the finger to the second knuckle. He put the finger in his mouth.

“Mama.”

“What, dear.”

“You are going to kill me.”

“Not yet.”

He took the finger out. He stood up off the rug.

He looked down at Vanitha.

“Mama”

“yes, ma”

“Take me to bed, please”

Selvam scooped Vanitha into his arms in one fluid motion. Her weight felt so right against his chest… familiar yet thrilling, like coming home to a place that still held secrets. The cream choli pulled tight across her breasts as she looped her arms around his neck, her thong still caught around her thighs.
“Your room or mine?” he asked, his voice rough at the edges.
“Yours,” she whispered, not meeting his eyes. “Fuck me in your bed, mama.”
The words sent a jolt through him, straight to his already aching cock. When his shy daughter-in-law said such dirty things with her innocent face, it drove him wild. He carried her down the hall, past the family photos, her body warm and pliant in his arms.
He kicked the door to his bedroom open, not bothering with the light. Afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting golden stripes across the unmade bed. He placed her on the edge of the mattress, watching as she sank into the rumpled sheets that still held the scent of his morning shower.
She mustered her voice and said the unthinkable that could come from her mouth.

“I want to suck that cock again, the one Summer has been staring at all day”

Selvam’s breath caught in his throat. The way she looked up at him with those big eyes while saying such filthy things… it was his undoing. He stood between her legs, still fully clothed, while she sat on the edge of his bed in nothing but her choli and her ruffle mini skirt, with the thong still hanging around just above her knees. H liked see that thong still on her legs.

“Say that again,” he commanded, his voice barely above a whisper.

Vanitha’s lips curved into a mischievous smile. She leaned forward, her fingers finding the waistband of his shorts.

“I said I want to suck your cock, Mama. The one Summer couldn’t take her eyes off of.” She tugged at his waistband. “I want to taste you again.”

Selvam’s cock throbbed against the confines of his shorts. He watched as Vanitha worked the fabric down his hips, revealing inch by inch of his hardening length. When she finally freed him completely, his cock stood proud and heavy, the head already glistening with pre-cum.

Vanitha wrapped her fingers around him, her grip firm but gentle. She leaned forward, her breath hot against his sensitive skin.

“You’re so hard for me, Mama,” she whispered, her eyes flicking up to meet his. “Is this for me?”

“You know it is,” he managed, his voice strained.

Vanitha’s Vanitha’s tongue darted out, catching a bead of pre-cum from the tip of his cock. She looked up at him with those big eyes, her lips forming a perfect ‘O’ as she took him into her mouth.

“Mmm,” she moaned, the vibration traveling straight through his shaft. Her lips stretched around his girth, her tongue working the underside of his cock with practiced precision.

Selvam’s hand found the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair. He didn’t push or pull… just held her there, feeling the wet heat of her mouth enveloping him inch by inch.

“Vanitha,” he breathed, watching her take him deeper. The cream choli pulled tight across her breasts as she leaned forward, her nipples clearly visible as hardened peaks beneath the thin fabric.

She pulled back, her lips still wrapped around him, creating suction that made his knees weak. Her hand wrapped around what couldn’t fit in her mouth, stroking in rhythm with her bobbing head.

“Fuck,” he muttered, head tipping back. The sight of her… innocent face, dirty mouth, cream choli… was too much. His cock throbbed against her tongue, threatening to spill.

“Mama”

“yes.. ma..”

“you think Summer is thinking about us? Like… ”

“She said we will have the house all to ourselves when she left”

Selvam’s fingers tightened in Vanitha’s hair, his mind suddenly filled with the image of Summer…her low-rise skirt, the waist chain, the way she’d looked at him all afternoon with that half-smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

“What makes you ask that?” His voice came out rougher than he’d intended.

Vanitha pulled back, her lips making a soft pop as she released him. A strand of saliva connected her bottom lip to the tip of his cock, catching the afternoon light. She wiped it away with the back of her hand.

“She couldn’t stop staring at you,” Vanitha said, her finger tracing a path up his shaft. “Every time you crossed your legs. Every time you stood up. Every time you spoke.” Her finger reached the sensitive spot just beneath the head. “I think she wanted you, Mama.”

Selvam’s cock twitched under her touch.

Vanitha looked up at him, her big eyes wide and innocent… a stark contrast to the dirty words that had just come from her mouth.

“She said we will have the house all to ourselves when she left.”

Selvam’s hand fell away from her hair. His pulse quickened at the base of his throat. “What do you mean?”

“She said Ashok and Latha will be out until 7,” Vanitha whispered. “She told me before she left. She wants me to be here alone with you.”

Selvam’s heart raced as he processed her words. The double meaning wasn’t lost on him… Vanitha suggesting that Summer had deliberately left them alone, knowing what would happen. The thought sent a fresh surge of blood to his already throbbing cock.

[adams_masala]

“You like seeing my panties hanging there, mama?” Vanitha looks at him with a smile.


He growls “Yes,” he growled, his eyes fixed on the white cotton stretched between her thighs. “ I love to see it hanging around your thighs.”

He pushed her back onto the bed, his body following hers down. The mattress dipped beneath their combined weight as he settled between her legs, his cock heavy against her inner thigh. The white ruffle skirt was pushed up around her waist now, the thong still caught at mid-thigh, restricting how wide she could spread for him.

“I’m going to fuck you with those panties still on,” he whispered against her ear, his breath hot on her skin. “Just pushed to the side.”

Vanitha moaned, her head falling back against the pillow. Her cream choli was still on, the silk clinging to her breasts, damp with sweat. Selvam ran his palm over the fabric, feeling her nipple harden against his touch.

“Mama,” she whispered, her voice small and needy. “Please.”

He was about to pull her skirt down when she caught his wrist. Vanitha’s fingers were warm against his skin, her touch firm but gentle. Her eyes had gone dark, pupils dilated until only a thin ring of brown remained. The morning light caught the gold hoop at her ear as she tilted her head.

“Don’t,” she whispered. Her voice had gone low, the way it did when she was beyond arousal—when she was ready to be taken.

Selvam’s fingers paused at the waistband of her skirt. “Vanitha,” he said, her name rough in his throat. “I want to see you.”

She bit her lip and whispered, “Please fuck me in my skirt, mama.”

He answered with a low growl as he guided her onto the mattress, easing the fabric upward until his fingers brushed her wet core—and with the first consuming thrust, their fervent coupling began.

Vanitha’s head fell back against the pillow, her throat exposed, her breath catching. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he pushed deeper, his cock stretching her in a way that made her eyes flutter closed. The white skirt bunched around her waist, the fabric trapping heat between them, creating a barrier that only heightened the sensation of his body against hers.

Scene 3

Summer pulled into her driveway next street, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles had gone white. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she cut the engine and sat motionless in the sudden silence. The drive home had been a blur of stoplights and intersections, her mind still stuck in that hallway, in that moment when she’d seen them together…Selvam’s hands on Vanitha’s body, his mouth hungry against her skin.

She closed her eyes, picturing the scene with perfect clarity.. Vanitha’s skirt riding up as Selvam’s hands moved beneath it, his dark fingers against her fair thighs, his tongue pressing into her, Vanitha’s face flushed and writhing with pleasure. The image burned in Summer’s mind, refusing to fade even as she opened her eyes and stepped out of her car.

Her legs felt weak beneath her as she walked to her front door. The afternoon sun beat down on her shoulders, the red choli clinging to her skin with a thin layer of sweat. She fumbled with her keys, dropping them once before finally unlocking the door.

The house was quiet when she entered—a stark contrast to the charged atmosphere she’d left behind. Summer’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, expecting a message from Vanitha, but it was just a notification from her fitness app. She swiped it away, her fingers trembling slightly.

The house was too quiet. Too empty. Summer tossed her keys on the kitchen counter, the sound jarringly loud in the silence. She kicked off her heels and padded barefoot through the living room, past the dining room, up the stairs to her bedroom. The white ruffle skirt clung to her thighs with each step.

Her bedroom door closed behind her with a soft click. Summer stood in the center of the room, arms wrapped around herself, still seeing it… still seeing them… in her mind’s eye. Selvam’s hand in Vanitha’s hair. The small red mark on his neck. The photos she has seen, the way Vanitha had looked up at him with those big eyes, her mouth open around his cock.

Summer’s skin felt too tight. Her nipples pressed against the red silk of her choli, sensitive and aching. Between her legs, she was wet—clean wet, the kind that didn’t need a hand to know it was wet.

She sat on the edge of her bed, the white ruffle skirt bunching beneath her. Her fingers went to the small brass hooks at the front of the red choli. She unfastened them slowly, one by one, the silk falling open to reveal her breasts. The cool air of her bedroom kissed her skin, making her shiver.

Summer’s hands went to her own breasts, cupping them the way Vanitha had cupped them earlier. The weight of them in her palms felt different now—heavier, more sensitive. Her thumbs brushed across her nipples, and she gasped at the sensation, the pink hardening instantly under her touch.

“The same,” she whispered to the empty room. “Exactly the same, breasts Selvam had his hand on.”

She thought about Selvam’s hands on her breasts, replacing Vanitha in her mind. She gave her permission, she thought to herself.

Summer slipped off the bed, letting the red choli fall open completely. She shimmied out of the white ruffle skirt, pushing it down her thighs until it pooled at her feet. Her panties followed—simple white cotton that clung to her wetness as she peeled them away. The air felt cool against her heated skin as she lay back on her bed, completely naked except for the gold chain still glinting at her hip.

Her fingers traveled down her stomach, past the delicate chain, to the warm wetness between her legs. She was soaked… had been since she’d glimpsed Selvam’s cock, since she’d seen his mouth on Vanitha, since she’d watched his hands grip her waist with desperate need.

“God,” she whispered to her empty bedroom, fingers circling her clit with practiced precision.

Her mind filled with images… not of her past lovers, not of faceless fantasies… but of Selvam. Selvam’s mouth on her inner thigh. Selvam’s hands pushing her thighs apart the way he had done to Vanitha. Selvam’s tongue flat against her, tasting her, devouring her.

Summer’s back arched off the mattress, her breath coming in quick gasps. She pictured herself in Vanitha’s place… in that hallway, skirt bunched around her waist, thong stretched between her thighs, Selvam’s salt-and-pepper head between her legs.

“Selvam,” she whispered, testing his name in the quiet of her bedroom. The sound sent a fresh surge of heat through her body.

Her fingers moved faster, her other hand coming up to pinch her nipple the way she imagined Selvam would… not gentle, not tentative, but with the firm confidence of a man who knew exactly what he wanted. She pictured his hand on her breast, the way Vanitha had described it in the photo… not cupping, but holding. Possessing.

There was no guilt in her fantasy, no jealousy of Vanitha. Just raw, pulsing need. Her imagination supplied every detail… the weight of Selvam pressing her into the mattress, the stretch of him entering her, the way his eyes would darken as he watched her take him.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, her fingers finding the perfect rhythm. “Oh fuck.”

The heat built at the base of her spine, coiling tighter with each circle of her fingers. Summer’s thighs began to tremble… just like Vanitha’s had trembled against Selvam’s face. She imagined his voice, rough and commanding.. “Cum for me, dear.”

“Selvam,” she whispered, his name foreign on her white girl tongue yet somehow right. “Oh god, Selvam.”

Scene 4

Selvam positioned himself at Vanitha’s entrance, the head of his cock sliding through her folds. Her thighs, restricted by the thong still caught around them, couldn’t spread as wide as he wanted. The constraint only heightened his desire. He pushed forward, watching her face as he entered her slowly.

“Oh god, Mama,” Vanitha gasped, her back arching off the bed. “It’s too much...”

Yet her body told a different story. Her hips tilted upward, taking him deeper, her inner walls clenching around him as he filled her completely. The white ruffle skirt bunched at her waist framed the joining of their bodies… his cock disappearing into her, the thong stretched taut between her thighs.

“You’re so wet, dear,” he growled, his voice rough as he began to move. “So tight for me.”

“Don’t say such things,” she protested weakly, her eyes fluttering closed as pleasure washed over her face. “It’s embarrassing.”

He thrust deeper, watching her mouth fall open, her objections fading into breathless moans. The cream choli pulled across her chest with each movement, her nipples visible through the thin silk.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

Her eyes opened, wide and dark with desire, a blush spreading across her cheeks and down her throat.

“Mama, please,” she whispered, her voice small. “Not so deep.”

Yet her legs wrapped around him as best they could with the thong restraining them, pulling him closer, taking him deeper. Her body’s demands contradicted her shy words.

##

In her bedroom, Summer’s fingers moved in tight circles over her clit, her other hand gripping the sheets. Her back arched as she imagined Selvam above her, his weight pressing her into the mattress, his cock stretching her open.

“God,” she gasped, her body trembling. She pictured his face…intense, focused, his eyes dark with want. The way he’d looked at Vanitha in the hallway. The way he might look at her someday.

Her fingers slipped lower, pushing inside herself, mimicking what she imagined he was doing to Vanitha right now. Her thumb continued to work her clit as she fucked herself with two fingers, her hips rising off the bed to meet her hand.

“Selvam,” she whispered to her empty room, the forbidden name sending a shock of pleasure through her body.

##

Selvam’s pace quickened, his hands gripping Vanitha’s hips as he drove into her. The bed creaked beneath them, the sound mixing with Vanitha’s increasingly desperate moans.

“Mama, it’s too good,” she cried out, her hands clutching at his shoulders. “I can’t... I can’t...”

“Yes, you can,” he growled, one hand sliding up to cup her breast through the cream choli. His thumb found her nipple, circling the hard peak through the silk. “Take all of me.”

“But it’s so... ah!” Her protest dissolved into a cry as he hit a spot deep inside her that made her whole body tremble. “It’s too big, Mama.”

“I know, dear,” he said, his voice rough with desire. He pulled back, almost withdrawing completely before slamming back in, making her gasp. “Let me hear good I make you feel.”

The thong around her thighs was driving him wild… the visual restriction, the way it kept her legs close together, making her even tighter around him. He reached down, hooking his fingers under the waistband.

“Turn over,” he commanded, pulling out of her. “On your knees.”

##

Summer rolled onto her stomach, her fingers never leaving her clit. She buried her face in her pillow, muffling her moans as she imagined Selvam behind her, his hands gripping her hips, positioning her.

The gold chain at her hip shimmered as she raised her ass in the air, her fingers working faster between her legs. She was close… so close… the pressure building low in her belly, her thighs trembling.

“Please,” she whispered, though there was no one to hear her plea. In her mind, it was Selvam’s cock stretching her open, Selvam’s hands on her hips, Selvam’s voice in her ear telling her how tight she was, how wet.

##

Vanitha turned over, her movements awkward with the thong still caught around her thighs. She got onto her hands and knees, the white ruffle skirt still on, now pushed up to reveal her ass. Her cream choli had come partly undone, exposing one breast that hung heavy beneath her.

Selvam took a moment to appreciate the view… her round ass, her glistening folds visible between her thighs, the small of her back dipping gracefully before rising to the swell of her backside. The thong stretched between her thighs like a restraint.

He positioned himself behind her, his cock sliding through her folds, teasing her entrance.

“Mama,” she whimpered, looking back at him over her shoulder. Her eyes were wide, pleading. “Not like this... it’s too deep this way.”

But her hips pushed back against him, seeking his penetration despite her words. Her body knew what it wanted, even as she played the role of the shy, reluctant girl.

Selvam gripped her hips and pushed forward, entering her in one long, slow thrust that made her gasp and drop her head between her shoulders.

“Oh god,” she moaned, her fingers clutching the sheets. “Mama, you are so big… it’s too much!”

“You can take it,” he said, his voice tight with restraint as he began to move. “You’re taking it so well, dear.”

Her inner walls clenched around him with each thrust, her body welcoming him even as she continued her token protests. He reached around, his fingers finding her clit, circling it in time with his thrusts.

“No, Mama,” she gasped, her hips pushing back to meet him. “Don’t touch me there... it’s too sensitive...”

Yet her body responded instantly, a shudder running through her as he continued his ministrations. Her protests only fueled his desire, the contradiction between her words and her body’s reactions driving him wild.

##

Summer’s fingers moved frantically now, her orgasm building. She imagined Selvam behind her, his cock driving into her, his fingers on her clit. She pictured his face… intense, focused, his eyes dark with desire as he watched her take him.

“Yes,” she gasped, her hips lifting off the bed. “Right there...”

The pressure built, her inner walls clenching around her fingers as she imagined it was him… his cock, his touch, his voice in her ear telling her how good she felt.

##

“Mama, please,” Vanitha begged, her voice breaking as Selvam’s thrusts became more forceful. “It’s too deep... I can’t...”

Her words dissolved into a cry as he hit that spot inside her that made her whole body tremble. His fingers continued their work on her clit, drawing tight circles that had her pushing back against him despite her protests.

“You’re going to cum for me,” he growled, his pace relentless. “Aren’t you, dear?”

“Yes, Mama,” she gasped, her body contradicting her words as her inner walls began to pulse around him. “It’s too much... I can’t...”

But she was already there, her orgasm washing over her in waves, her body shaking beneath him. Her cries echoed off the walls as she came, her inner walls clenching around his cock in rhythmic pulses.

Selvam continued to thrust through her orgasm, prolonging her pleasure, watching as she fell apart beneath him. The sight of her… his son’s wife, on her knees in his bed, coming undone on his cock… pushed him closer to the edge.

“Mama,” she moaned, her voice small and breathless as the aftershocks of her orgasm rippled through her. “You’re still so hard inside me...”

##

Summer cried out, her orgasm hitting her with unexpected force. Her back arched off the bed, her fingers continuing their relentless pace as waves of pleasure washed over her. In her mind, it was Selvam making her come… his cock, his hands, his mouth.

“Selvam,” she gasped, the forbidden name spilling from her lips as her body trembled. The gold chain at her hip shined as her hips bucked against her hand, riding out the waves of her orgasm.

##

Selvam collapsed onto Vanitha, his weight pressing her into the mattress, his breath hot against her neck. Their bodies were slick with sweat, the cream choli now completely undone and twisted around her torso. The white ruffle skirt was bunched around her waist, her thong still caught around her thighs like a forgotten restraint.

“Mama,” she whispered, her voice small and satisfied in the quiet room. Her fingers traced lazy patterns on his back, feeling the dampness of his smooth waxed skin. 

“That was...”

“I know, dear.” His lips brushed against the sensitive spot below her ear, sending a small shiver down her spine despite her exhaustion.

The afternoon light had shifted, casting longer shadows across the rumpled sheets. Vanitha felt boneless beneath him, pleasantly sore in all the right places. His weight should have been uncomfortable, but she loved the feeling of being pinned beneath him, claimed and thoroughly satisfied.

A buzz from the floor interrupted the moment. Vanitha’s phone vibrated under the sheets, the sound muffled but insistent.

“Your phone,” Selvam murmured against her skin, making no move to let her up.

“Mmm.” Vanitha stretched beneath him, her body still tingling with aftershocks. “It can wait.”

The phone buzzed again. Curiosity won out over lethargy. “Okay, let me check,” she said, gently pushing at his shoulders.

Selvam rolled off her with a reluctant groan, sprawling on his back beside her. His chest rose and fell with deep, satisfied breaths, his eyes already half-closed with post-coital drowsiness.

Vanitha leaned over the edge of the bed, fishing her phone from her bag. The movement made her aware of the wetness between her thighs, the lingering evidence of their passion. She smiled to herself as she unlocked the screen.

A text notification lit up her display. From Summer.

“Hi Vanitha, how are you dear? Did he take any pictures of you today? :) Can I see them.”

Heat rushed to Vanitha’s cheeks. She glanced over at Selvam, who had thrown one arm across his eyes, oblivious to the content of the message. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as a small, knowing smile spread across her face.

Summer knew. Of course she knew. Smart girl, figuring out exactly what would happen the minute she left. And now she was teasing, asking for photos like the ones she’d seen in Vanitha’s hidden folder.

Vanitha typed her reply, her smile growing wider with each word… “He’s not done with me yet.”

She hit send, then set the phone face-down on the nightstand. The small secret thrilled her… Summer knowing about them, Selvam not knowing that Summer knew. The delicious triangle of awareness made her skin tingle with renewed excitement. She knows Summer has the right to decide how and if she wants to share that with Selvam, she trusted her.

[adams_masala]

Did anyone get unexpected server error while accessing xossipy? brings back past trauma losing xossip before :)

[Slayer@@]

Great update... Looking forward for the next...

[adams_masala]

Thanks Bro!

[Rangushki]

There's no emotional attachment. Still Vanitha and selvam behave like FIL and DIL. Each respecting each other. Slightly boring. Time to take to next level. Scenes seems to look like repeated.

[adams_masala]

There's no emotional attachment. Still Vanitha and selvam behave like FIL and DIL. Each respecting each other. Slightly boring. Time to take to next level. Scenes seems to look like repeated.

That’s their reality! Let them enjoy!

[Silkywoman1144]

This is truly one of the best stories I have read on this forum. Hats off to the writer. I enjoyed it so much that I kept reading it again and again.What I liked most is the depth and detailing in the story. Very few stories here are written in a way that women readers can also connect with and enjoy, but this one really does that beautifully.
I have two suggestions, only as a humble request to the author:
A) I would love to see a detailed emotional and intimate lesbian sex between Summers and Vanitha. Honestly, I was waiting for that between Vanitha and Yazini, but sadly it did not happen.
B) It would also be very interesting if  writer adds very bold threesome scene involving Vinitha, Selvam, and Summers, where Latha secretly watches and gets emotionally affected and satisfy herself.
These are just my personal thoughts as a woman reader who genuinely liked the story. Please consider them only if they suit the flow of the story.

[adams_masala]

New episode coming soon.

[adams_masala]

I’m rewriting the 1st Chapter where Vanitha is introduced for the first time. Any interest in reading that?