[Mahesh12345]

Can we expect update by the end of the day or not 

[Wangi]

Update will come tonight??

[Lousy1995]

Sorry guys i had some personal things to do , the update will be posted tomorrow

[Raj_Rohan]

Sorry guys i had some personal things to do , the update will be posted tomorrow

It's fine but please give 3 update as Tommorow is Saturday..


Don't make us wait long...

Waiting for update.

[Wangi]

Update please 

[Wangi]

[joyeity]

Mind blowing. Eagerly waiting for next upcoming erotic masterclass scenarios.

[Lousy1995]

Chapter 17: The First Night

The moment Amma’s slippered foot crossed the threshold of our back door, something inside me shattered and reformed into something darker. I watched from the shadows of the storeroom as she emerged—my mother, Lakshmi, thirty-nine years old and wearing a bridal red silk saree that clung to her heavy, mature curves like a second skin. The new thaali Ravi had tied around her neck in that ruined temple glinted dully against her warm wheatish skin, sitting heavy and obscene beside the simple gold chain my father Murugan had given her twenty years ago.

She moved like a woman walking to her execution, yet there was a terrible resignation in her gait , caught the dim moonlight as she slipped into the narrow lane behind our house.

I waited exactly ten seconds before following.

My heart hammered against my ribs with such violence I feared it would give me away. My mind was a storm I could not control—rage at Ravi for forcing this, helplessness at my own inability to stop it, guilt for the erection already straining against my veshti, and a dark, consuming arousal that made my mouth dry and my hands shake. I stayed to the shadows, ducking behind coconut trees and compound walls, keeping enough distance that she wouldn’t hear my ragged breathing.

The village was dead silent at this hour—past midnight, the hour when even the dogs stopped barking and the only sounds were the chirping of crickets and the distant croaking of frogs from the pond. Lakshmi’s red saree was a dangerous beacon in the darkness, but she moved with surprising speed, hugging the walls, taking the longer route through the back paths to avoid the main road.

I knew where she was going. We both knew.

Ravi’s house stood two compounds away from ours—a modest cement structure with a small garden in front and a back entrance that opened into a narrow alley. I watched from behind a thick tamarind tree as Lakshmi reached the back gate. She stood there for a long moment, her shoulders heaving with deep breaths, her heavy breasts rising and falling under the red silk blouse. She raised her hand to knock, then hesitated, her fingers trembling.

When she finally tapped—soft, hesitant, almost soundless—the door opened almost immediately.

Ravi stood there, backlit by the dim light inside. He was wearing a white veshti and nothing else, his chest bare and lean. Even from this distance, I could see the hunger in his posture, the way his eyes devoured my mother’s bridal appearance.

But then he did something that made my blood run cold.

He shook his head slowly and stepped back, blocking the entrance with his body.

“No,” he said, his voice carrying softly in the night air. “Not this way, Lakshmi.”

Amma’s face  with confusion and desperation. She whispered something I couldn’t hear, gesturing frantically toward the darkness around them, clearly terrified of being seen standing outside a man’s house at this hour.

Ravi remained unmoved. His voice was firm but calm, carrying that same patient tone he had used in the temple when he destroyed her resistance.

“A wife does not enter through the back gate on her first night,” he said clearly. “Come through the front door. That is the proper way. That is how a bride enters her husband’s house.”

Lakshmi’s hands flew to her mouth. She shook her head violently, her eyes wide with panic. She took a step back, looking around frantically as if searching for an escape, as if she could still run away from this nightmare.

Ravi did not move. He simply stood there, blocking the back entrance, his arms crossed.

“If you keep standing here arguing, Lakshmi, the risk of being seen becomes higher,” he said logically. “The longer you delay, the more chance that someone will wake up for their morning ablutions and see you. Make your choice. Front door. But if you go home, know that I will come for you tomorrow. And I will not be as patient.”

The threat hung in the air like poison. I watched from my hiding spot as Lakshmi’s shoulders slumped in defeat. She stood there for a full minute, trembling, her hands clutching the red saree’s pallu so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Then, with the slow, heavy steps of a woman mounting a scaffold, she turned and walked around to the front of the house.

Ravi had already moved—he left the back door and went to the front. By the time Lakshmi reached the main entrance, he had left it slightly ajar, a thin sliver of warm yellow light cutting through the darkness. She stood before that door for ten agonizing seconds, looking left and right, ensuring no one was watching. Then she pushed it open and rushed inside like a ghost fleeing daylight.

I waited exactly thirty seconds before following.

I knew Ravi’s house almost as well as my own—childhood games, festival visits, years of neighborly familiarity. There was a side window to the bedroom—small, covered with a mesh screen . It was the perfect vantage point, hidden from the street by the compound wall and from the house by the thick foliage.

I moved like a shadow, my veshti hitched up to avoid the sound of fabric rubbing. My cock was already hard, throbbing with a shameful urgency that made me want to vomit even as I wrapped my fingers around it through the cloth. I found my spot—behind the jasmine bush, pressed against the cool wall, with a clear view through the mesh screen into the bedroom.

What I saw made my breath catch.

Ravi had prepared the room like a bridal chamber. Fresh white bedsheets were spread across the cot, crisp and clean. Strings of jasmine and marigold flowers were scattered across the pillows and bedspread, their heavy sweet scent somehow carrying even through the window mesh. A small brass plate on the side table held traditional wedding sweets—laddus and jangiri—along with sliced bananas and apples. A steel tumbler filled with warm milk sat beside it, steam still rising from the surface.

Lakshmi stood in the center of the room, looking lost and terrified. The red silk saree looked even more vibrant in the warm lamplight, clinging to her heavy hips and wide ass, the pallu dbangd over her shoulder revealing the deep curve of her cleavage. Both thaalis—the old one from Murugan and the new heavy one from Ravi—hung between her heavy breasts, glinting with every trembling breath she took.

Ravi circled her slowly, his eyes roaming over her body with possessive hunger.

“One thing is missing,” he said softly.

Before Lakshmi could react, before she could even open her mouth to ask what, Ravi moved with startling speed. He grabbed her shoulders from behind, his grip firm and unyielding, and spun her around so her back was to him. She gasped—a sharp, frightened sound—and tried to pull away, but he held her fast with one hand while his other hand reached for something on the dresser.

It was a fresh string of jasmine flowers—thick, white, fragrant, the kind brides wore in their hair.

“No—Ravi, please—” Lakshmi whimpered, but he was already working, his fingers deft and quick, threading the flowers into her thick black hair, tucking them in forcefully, arranging them around the bun she had made. The jasmine mixed with the existing flowers, creating a heavy, bridal crown that made her look exactly like a new wife on her first night.

“There,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Now you look complete. Now you look like my wife.”

He turned her back around to face him. His hands moved from her shoulders down her arms, then took her small, plump hands in his. He led her to the edge of the bed and gently made her sit. The mattress creaked under her weight—her heavy breasts settling, her wide hips spreading slightly against the white sheets.

Ravi sat beside her, close enough that their thighs touched. He picked up the steel tumbler of warm milk and took a long sip, his eyes never leaving hers. Then he held the tumbler out to her.

Lakshmi stared at it like it was poison. She shook her head slowly, her lips pressed together in a tight line.

“Drink,” Ravi commanded softly.

“No… please… I can’t…” she whispered.

Ravi’s expression didn’t change. He kept the tumbler extended. When she didn’t take it, he reached out with his other hand and wrapped his fingers around her hand—the same hand that held the tumbler. His grip was warm and firm as he forcibly guided the tumbler to her lips.

“Drink,” he repeated, his voice dropping lower, more intimate. “A bride must drink the milk her husband offers on the first night. It is tradition. It is auspicious.”

Lakshmi resisted for a long moment, her hand trembling under his grip, the tumbler shaking so much that drops of warm milk spilled onto her red saree, leaving dark wet spots on the silk. But Ravi’s strength was patient and unyielding. He slowly, inexorably, tilted the tumbler until the rim pressed against her lips.

With a broken sob, she finally parted her lips and took a small sip.  Some of it spilled from the corner of her mouth and ran down her chin, dripping onto her chest, disappearing into the valley between her heavy breasts.

Ravi watched the droplet’s path with hungry eyes. He didn’t wipe it away. He simply took the tumbler back, finished the rest of the milk himself, and set it down with a soft clink.

They sat in silence for a moment, the only sounds their breathing and the distant night insects. Then Lakshmi stood up suddenly, her body rigid, her hands clenched at her sides.

“This is wrong, Ravi… we should stop right now,” she said, her voice trembling but carrying a weight of genuine emotion. “Please. Untie this thaali. Let me go home. I cannot do this… I am still Murugan’s wife. I took vows in front of the fire. This… this is a sin.”

Her eyes filled with tears as she continued, the resistance in her voice deepening, becoming more personal, more raw:

“How will I ever look at Meena’s face again? She trusted me more than her own family. She called me akka… she held my hand and cried in front of me. She believed I was helping her. How can I face her after this? When she comes back and looks into my eyes… this will destroy everything. It will destroy her. It will destroy me.”

The tears spilled over now, running down her cheeks, catching the lamplight. She looked beautiful and broken, a mature woman in a bridal saree crying for her lost virtue.

Ravi remained seated on the bed, looking up at her with that same calm, patient expression. He didn’t rush. He didn’t grab her. He simply waited until her words faded into soft sobs.

Then he stood up slowly, stepping close to her—close enough that she had to tilt her head back to look at him. His voice was low, soothing, almost thebangutic in its gentleness.

“Lakshmi… listen to me. Everything that happened… the temple, the thaali… it happened because of your own words. You yourself told me that you would only sleep with your husband. That is why I did this. I made it pure. I made it right in the eyes of God.”

He reached out and touched the new thaali hanging between her breasts, lifting it slightly, letting the heavy gold catch the light.

“Now I am also one of your husbands. In the eyes of God and this thaali, you are my wife. There is no sin left between us. You should not feel guilty anymore.”

Lakshmi kept shaking her head, her resistance varying between soft pleading and sharper bursts of guilt and fear. “No… no… that’s not true… Murugan is my husband… he is the father of my son… I cannot betray him like this… please, Ravi, have mercy…”

But even as she spoke, her voice was losing strength. The psychological trap Ravi had constructed—the temple ceremony, the thaali, her own words thrown back at her—was working. She was beginning to believe, or at least to accept, that the line between right and wrong had already been crossed irreversibly.

Ravi sensed this shift. His hand moved from the thaali to the edge of her red silk pallu, his fingers finding the fabric where it dbangd over her shoulder.

“Let me show you,” he whispered. “Let me show you what it means to be a wife. Let me show you what your body was made for.”

He began to pull.

The red silk rustled with a soft, continuous whisper as he slowly drew the pallu down from her shoulder. Lakshmi’s reaction was immediate and instinctive—both her arms shot up and crossed tightly over her chest, hugging herself, trying to hide the heavy swell of her breasts and the soft pouch of her belly that the saree had been concealing.

“No… Ravi, stop… don’t…” she whispered, her face turning away, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson with embarrassment and shame.

But Ravi continued with patient, deliberate movements. The red silk saree slid down her body with a sensual hiss, revealing her tight red blouse that strained against her heavy breasts, the deep cleavage visible above the neckline, the soft expanse of her wheatish belly with its natural post-childbirth pouch. The saree pooled at her feet in a crimson puddle, leaving her standing there in just the blouse and the petticoat tied beneath her navel.

Ravi’s eyes drank in the sight. He stepped closer, his hands moving to her blouse. The small hooks ran down the front—tiny, delicate, gold-colored. He began to open them, one by one.

Click.

Lakshmi flinched.

Click.

She gasped, her arms tightening over her chest.

Click.

The last hook opened, and the blouse hung open, revealing the white cotton bra underneath, stretched tight over her heavy breasts, the dark outlines of her nipples visible through the thin fabric.

“Please… don’t look… this is not right…” she whimpered, her voice thick with shame.

Ravi ignored her protests. He pushed the blouse off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Then his hands moved behind her, finding the clasp of her bra. With a practiced motion, he unhooked it. The straps slid down her arms, and her heavy breasts spilled free—full, mature, slightly sagging with age and weight, the nipples dark and tight, already hardening from the cool night air and her own nervous tension.

Lakshmi gasped and immediately tried to cover them again with both hands, her palms pressing against the soft flesh, trying to hide her nakedness. But Ravi was already moving lower, his hands sliding to her waist, finding the knot of her petticoat. He tugged at the cotton string, and it came undone with a soft whisper. The petticoat loosened around her wide hips.

“No… please… not there…” she begged, but he was already pulling it down, sliding the cotton fabric over her thick thighs, her heavy calves, until it dropped to the floor and she stood completely naked except for the two thaalis around her neck and the gold bangles on her wrists.

She was magnificent. A mature village woman in her sexual prime—heavy breasts with dark, tight nipples, soft rounded belly, wide hips that had borne a child, thick juicy thighs that pressed together at the top, hiding the dark bush of her pussy. The two gold thaalis—the old thin one and the new heavy one—hung between her breasts, swinging slightly with her trembling breaths.

Ravi stepped back and simply looked at her for a long moment, his eyes roaming over every inch of her naked flesh with possessive hunger.

“You are beautiful,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “More beautiful than I imagined. Look at you… this body… it was made for this. Made for me.”

Lakshmi stood there trembling, still trying to cover herself with one arm across her breasts and the other hand shielding her lower body, her face turned away in utter humiliation.

Ravi began to undress himself. He untied his veshti and let it drop, revealing his erect cock—thick, long, standing straight up against his belly, the head swollen and leaking pre-cum. It was bigger than I had imagined, bigger than anything I had seen in the porn videos I secretly watched on my phone. The sight of it made my own cock throb painfully in my hand as I stroked it through my clothes.

He stepped toward her, his cock bobbing with each movement, and gently took her wrists. He pulled her hands away from her body, exposing her fully.

“Don’t hide,” he commanded softly. “You are my wife tonight. Your body belongs to me. Let me see you. Let me worship you.”

He led her to the bed and gently laid her down on the flower-strewn sheets. The jasmine and marigold petals shifted under her naked body, some sticking to her damp skin. Ravi climbed onto the bed beside her, his movements slow and deliberate, giving her time to adjust, time to accept.

He began with her face—kissing her forehead, her closed eyelids, her tear-stained cheeks. His lips moved to the side of her neck, sucking gently at the sensitive skin there, leaving faint red marks. His hands roamed over her body with agonizing slowness—cupping her heavy breasts, feeling their weight, his thumbs brushing over her dark nipples until they hardened into tight peaks.

“So beautiful,” he murmured against her skin. “These boobs… they are perfect. Heavy, soft, made for a man’s hands.”

He lowered his mouth and took one nipple between his lips, sucking softly at first, then with more pressure, his tongue swirling around the dark areola. Lakshmi gasped, her back arching involuntarily, a soft sound escaping her throat despite her efforts to remain silent.

Ravi’s hand slid down over the soft curve of her belly, his fingers tracing the natural lines of her motherhood, the slight pouch that spoke of her maturity. He didn’t recoil from it—he seemed to savor it, his hand moving lower, past her navel, down to the dark triangle of hair between her thick thighs.

“No… please… not there…” she whispered, but her legs parted slightly, almost unconsciously, as his fingers found her pussy.

He didn’t rush. He simply rested his hand there, cupping her, feeling the heat emanating from her core. Then he began to stroke—soft, slow movements, his fingers sliding through her folds, finding her clit, circling it gently.

Lakshmi’s body tensed, her hips lifting slightly off the bed. She was wet—I could see it from my vantage point, the way his fingers glistened when he pulled them back, the way her pussy lips were swelling and opening like a flower.

“You’re wet,” Ravi said, his voice full of satisfaction. “Your body knows. Your mouth says no, but your pussy is crying out for me. Feel how ready you are.”

He positioned himself between her thick thighs, his cock resting against her entrance. He didn’t thrust in immediately. Instead, he rubbed the head of his cock up and down her slit, coating himself in her juices, teasing her clit with the thick ridge of his shaft.

Lakshmi’s hands came up to his shoulders, her fingers digging into his skin. “Please… don’t… I’m begging you…” she whimpered, but her hips were moving now, grinding against him, seeking friction.

Ravi looked down at her, his eyes dark with lust and something else—possession, triumph, love.

“You are my wife now, Lakshmi,” he said, his voice steady and firm. “Look at this thaali. It is real. God has already accepted us.”

And then he pushed inside her.

The stretch was visible even from where I watched. Lakshmi’s mouth opened in a silent scream, her eyes widening, her back arching off the bed as Ravi’s thick cock slowly invaded her pussy. He entered inch by inch, giving her time to feel every part of him, his progress steady and unstoppable.

“Oh god… oh god… it’s too big… please… stop…” she gasped, her hands pushing weakly at his chest, but he kept pushing forward until he was buried to the hilt, his full length inside her, the base of his cock pressed against her swollen clit.

He stayed completely still for a moment, buried deep inside her, letting her feel the full size of his cock, letting her body adjust to the invasion. The two thaalis hung between them—hers swinging slightly with her rapid breathing, his chest bare above her.

“Feel that, Lakshmi,” he whispered against her ear, his voice rough with desire. “Every inch. This is your husband’s cock now. This is what you’ve been missing. This is what your body needs.”

He began to move with long, slow strokes, pulling almost all the way out until just the head remained inside her, then pushing back in with a deep, grinding motion that made her gasp each time. The bed creaked rhythmically, the sound mixing with the wet slap of flesh against flesh and Lakshmi’s soft, involuntary moans.

After several minutes of this slow, deliberate fucking, Ravi slowed down even more, almost stopping, and spoke against her ear:

“Your body is getting wetter… even though your mouth keeps saying no. The thaali is swinging with every movement. Look how it belongs on you.”

Lakshmi turned her head away, squeezing her eyes shut, tears leaking from the corners. But her body was betraying her—her hips were lifting to meet his thrusts now, her pussy making wet, sucking sounds as his cock moved in and out, her juices coating his shaft and dripping down to stain the white bedsheets beneath her.

Ravi fucked her slowly for what felt like an eternity—long, deep strokes that hit every sensitive spot inside her, his cock grinding against her clit with each thrust. He varied the angle slightly, tilting her hips up with his hands, hitting deeper spots that made her cry out despite herself.

“Please… please… I can’t…” she whimpered, but her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper.

The thaalis swung back and forth against her chest with every thrust—the old one light and familiar, the new one heavy and foreign, both making soft metallic sounds as they collided with her breasts. The sight was obscene and erotic—a married woman wearing two wedding necklaces while being fucked by her neighbor.

Ravi’s stamina was incredible. He kept the same slow, grinding pace for nearly forty minutes, never speeding up, never losing control, his breathing steady even as sweat began to bead on his forehead and chest. He spoke to her throughout, soft words of possession and praise, telling her how beautiful she was, how tight her pussy felt, how she was made for this.

Lakshmi’s resistance slowly crumbled under the relentless pleasure. Her moans became louder, less controlled, her hips moving more urgently against him. She was approaching orgasm—I could see it in the way her toes curled, the way her back arched, the way her hands gripped the bedsheets.

“Let go,” Ravi commanded, his voice suddenly firm. “Cum for your husband, Lakshmi. Cum on my cock.”

And she did. With a cry that was half sob, half scream, she came, her pussy clamping down on his cock in rhythmic spasms, her whole body shaking, her heavy breasts bouncing with the force of her orgasm. Ravi kept fucking her through it, maintaining his steady rhythm, drawing out her pleasure until she was limp and gasping beneath him.

Only then did he allow himself to speed up, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, more urgent. He pushed her legs up, folding them back toward her shoulders, changing the angle so he could go even deeper. Lakshmi gasped at the new position, her eyes wide, her mouth open in a silent O as he pounded into her now with forceful, deliberate strokes.

“I’m going to fill you,” he grunted, his composure finally cracking. “I’m going to cum inside you, Lakshmi. I’m going to fill your married pussy with my seed. You’re going to carry me inside you when you go home to your husband.”

“No… please… ” she whimpered, but her protests were weak, her body too spent to resist.

Ravi thrust deep one final time, burying himself to the root, and erupted. I could see his balls tighten, his ass clench, the way he shuddered as spurt after spurt of thick cum flooded her pussy. He kept thrusting slowly through his orgasm, milking every drop into her, ensuring she took every bit of his seed.

When he finally finished, he didn’t pull out immediately. He stayed deep inside her, breathing heavily, his forehead resting against her shoulder, his lips pressing soft kisses to her damp skin.

“You’re full of me now,” he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction. “My cum is inside you. You’re marked. You’re mine.”

Only after a full minute did he slowly pull his cock out. As he withdrew, a thick stream of white cum followed, leaking out of her stretched pussy and running down between her thighs to pool on the bedsheets beneath her. The sight was obscene—her pussy gaped slightly, red and swollen, cum dripping steadily from her used hole.

Lakshmi lay there, staring at the ceiling with tear-filled, vacant eyes, her chest heaving with sobs. She looked completely used, completely claimed. The two thaalis lay against her sweat-slicked skin, the new one sitting heavy and triumphant between her breasts.

She tried to sit up, her movements weak and uncoordinated. “Please… let me go now… I need to go home…” she whispered, reaching for her clothes that lay scattered on the floor.

But Ravi stopped her. He gently but firmly pushed her back down onto the bed, his hand on her shoulder.

“Not yet,” he said softly. “The night is still young. And we are just beginning.”

Outside the window, I bit down hard on my own hand to stop from screaming. My cock had been hard throughout the entire scene, and now, watching my mother lying naked and cum-filled on Ravi’s bed, I couldn’t stop myself. I pulled my cock out of my veshti—it was average sized, nothing like Ravi’s thick monster—and began stroking it desperately, tears of rage and arousal streaming down my face.

I thought of the years of bullying in college, the mockery about my size, my background, my poverty. I thought of my father, drunk and useless in the next house. I thought of my mother, so conservative, so religious, now lying spread-eagled and marked by another man’s seed.

The first spurt of my cum shot out violently, splattering against the wall in front of me. I kept stroking, my hand moving frantically, my eyes never leaving the window. I came again within minutes, then a third time, my pathetic seed dripping down onto the dirt below, leaving me empty, shaking, and completely destroyed.

Inside, Ravi was already starting again.

He kept Lakshmi completely naked, refusing to let her cover herself. He pulled her back down onto the bed, lying half on top of her, his hands moving slowly over her heavy breasts, her soft belly, the sticky wetness between her thighs. He kissed her shoulders, her neck, her closed eyelids, speaking in a calm, persuasive voice.

“It’s still dark outside… no one will see you yet. Stay a little longer. Let me love you properly. Let me show you what it means to be cherished.”

Lakshmi remained nervous and restless, her body tense despite the afterglow of her orgasm. She kept whispering her fears:

“Someone might see me leaving… what if the neighbours wake up early? What if Murugan is already awake and looking for me? Meena trusted me… if anyone finds out…”

Every distant sound from outside—a dog barking in the distance, a rooster beginning to stir in some far-off coop, the faint creak of a gate—made her body tense. She repeatedly tried to sit up, to reach for her clothes, but Ravi continued to delay her with soft touches, kisses on her shoulders, and quiet words, keeping her naked and close to him.

For nearly an hour, he simply held her, stroking her body, whispering to her, rebuilding her arousal slowly and deliberately. His cock, which had never fully softened, grew hard again against her thigh, and she felt it—her eyes widening with a mix of fear and reluctant desire.

“Again?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You can’t… I can’t take anymore… please…”

But Ravi was already moving, turning her over onto her hands and knees, positioning her ass up in the air, her face pressed against the pillow. Her heavy breasts hung down, swaying slightly, the two thaalis swinging beneath her like pendulums.

 " I want to see my cock going in and out of your married pussy.”

He entered her from behind in one smooth, deep stroke, pushing all the way in until his hips pressed against her wide, soft ass. Lakshmi cried out into the pillow, her hands gripping the bedsheets, her back arching involuntarily.

This round was different—deeper, more possessive, more animal. Ravi’s hands gripped her wide hips hard enough to leave red marks, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he fucked her with stronger, longer thrusts. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room—his hips hitting her ass, his balls slapping against her clit, the wet sucking sounds of his cock moving in her cum-filled pussy.

 Ravi reached under her and grabbed one of the heavy breasts, squeezing it hard, pinching the nipple between his fingers, making her gasp and moan.

“Feel that, Lakshmi,” he grunted, his composure slipping further as he increased his pace. “This is your husband’s cock. You are taking me so well… you were made for this. Your pussy is so tight, so wet… milking my cock… begging for more.”

Lakshmi remained mostly quiet, her face turned to the side on the pillow, tears still slipping from her eyes. But her body was responding more openly now—her hips pushing back to meet his thrusts, her back arching to give him better access, soft involuntary sounds escaping her throat with each deep penetration.

“Please… please… it’s too deep… you’re hitting… oh god…” she whimpered, her voice breaking.

Ravi fucked her harder, his thrusts becoming relentless, pounding into her with a steady rhythm that shook the entire bed. The obscene sounds of their fucking filled the room—the wet slap of flesh, the creak of the bedframe, Lakshmi’s gasping moans, and Ravi’s grunts of pleasure.

He lasted another long stretch—nearly thirty minutes of hard, deep fucking before he felt his orgasm approaching. He grabbed her hips tightly, pulling her back onto his cock as he thrust forward, burying himself as deep as possible.

“I’m cumming again,” he announced, his voice strained. “Taking you… filling you again… my wife… my Lakshmi…”

He erupted inside her for the second time, flooding her already cum-filled pussy with another thick load of seed. Lakshmi cried out as she felt the hot spurts filling her, her body shaking, her pussy clamping down on him in another involuntary orgasm triggered by the feeling of being bred.

Ravi stayed inside her for a long moment, his cock pulsing, his cum mixing with the first load deep inside her womb. When he finally pulled out, a gush of combined fluids followed, running down her thighs, dripping onto the bed, leaving her pussy swollen, red, and leaking.

Lakshmi collapsed onto her stomach, her body trembling, her breathing ragged. She tried to get up again, her movements weak and uncoordinated. “Please… I have to go… it’s getting late…”

But Ravi pulled her back again, keeping her naked, lying beside her, his hands moving over her body in soft, possessive caresses. He kissed her shoulders, her back, the nape of her neck, whispering quiet words until her resistance softened and her breathing slowed.

For another hour, they lay like that, Ravi rebuilding his stamina through soft touches and intimate whispers, Lakshmi drifting in a haze of exhaustion and arousal. His cock grew hard against her hip again, and she felt it—her eyes opening wide with disbelief.

“You can’t be serious… three times? ” she whispered, but there was a note of wonder in her voice, a reluctant admiration for his virility.

Ravi smiled against her neck. “For you, my wife, I have endless stamina. Now come here. I want to see your face when I take you this time. I want to look into your eyes when you cum for me again.”

He pulled her on top of him, positioning her in cowgirl, holding her waist as she straddled him. Her heavy breasts hung down, swaying slightly, the thaalis swinging between them. She looked down at him with tear-filled, confused eyes—part resistance, part desire, part resignation.

“Ride me,” he commanded softly. “Move your hips. Take me inside you and ride your husband’s cock.”

With trembling hands, she positioned herself above him, then slowly lowered herself onto his waiting cock. The stretch was still intense—she gasped as he filled her again, her head falling back, her hands bracing themselves on his chest.

Ravi held her waist and began to guide her movements, lifting her up and down, setting a slow, grinding pace. From my vantage point, I could see everything—her wide hips moving up and down, his thick cock disappearing inside her pussy and reappearing glistening with her juices and his cum, her heavy breasts bouncing with each movement, the two thaalis swinging wildly.

“Look at me,” Ravi commanded, his voice firm. “Look into my eyes, Lakshmi. See the man who is claiming you. See your new husband.”

Lakshmi forced her eyes open, looking down at him through her tears. Their gazes locked, and something passed between them—a connection, an acknowledgment of what was happening, of the line they had crossed and could never uncross.

Ravi’s hands moved from her waist to her breasts, cupping them, feeling their weight, pinching the nipples. “These are mine now,” he said, his voice thick with possession. “This body is mine. You are mine.”

He increased the pace, lifting his hips to meet her downward movements, thrusting up into her with forceful strokes that made her cry out. The bed creaked loudly, the sound of their fucking filling the small room, carrying out into the night through the open window where I watched, stroking my own pathetic cock for the fourth time.

Lakshmi’s resistance finally broke completely. Her hips moved with abandon now, grinding down onto him, seeking her own pleasure, her moans becoming louder, less controlled, more desperate.

“ oh god… Ravi… please…” she whimpered, no longer caring about the words, about the sin, about the betrayal. Her body had taken over, demanding release, demanding the pleasure he was giving her.

“That’s it,” Ravi encouraged, his voice rough with his own approaching climax. “Cum for me, Lakshmi. Cum on my cock like a good wife. Show me how much you want this. Show me how much you need me.”

With a scream that she tried to muffle with her own hand, Lakshmi came for the third time, her pussy convulsing around his cock, her whole body shaking, her head falling back as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her. Ravi kept thrusting up into her, prolonging her orgasm, drawing out every spasm until she collapsed forward onto his chest, gasping, sobbing, completely spent.

But he wasn’t done. He rolled her over onto her back again, staying inside her, moving into missionary position once more. The sex became more intense now, his thrusts harder, deeper, more urgent. He was fucking her with a desperation now, a need to claim her completely, to mark her as his own.

Lakshmi’s legs wrapped around him, her heels digging into his lower back, pulling him deeper. Her soft moans became clearer, more open, her body responding fully to his possession despite the tears still streaming down her face.

“Please… please… I can’t take anymore…” she begged, her voice broken, her mind shattered by the hours of pleasure and guilt.

Ravi’s high stamina finally reached its limit. With a roar that he muffled against her shoulder, he thrust deep one final time and erupted for the third time, flooding her with another massive load of cum, filling her womb completely, ensuring that she would carry his seed inside her for hours, perhaps impregnating her with his child.

He collapsed on top of her, both of them breathing hard, their bodies slick with sweat, the bedsheets beneath them soaked with their combined fluids. The two thaalis were tangled between them, the gold chains pressing into their skin, a physical reminder of the dual life she now led.

For a long time, they lay like that, Ravi’s cock still twitching inside her, his cum slowly leaking out around the seal of their joined bodies. Outside, the first pale light of dawn began to filter through the window—I realized with shock that they had been fucking for nearly five hours.

Lakshmi tried to sit up again, her voice weak and trembling. “Please… let me go now… I need to go home… Murugan will wake up… he’ll know… please…”

Ravi slowly pulled out of her, his cock finally softening, covered in their combined juices. A thick stream of cum immediately leaked out of her gaping pussy, running down her thighs, pooling on the bed. The sight was obscene—she was completely filled, completely marked.

But Ravi didn’t let her get up immediately. He kept her naked, lying beside her, his hands moving slowly over her body, touching her heavy breasts, her soft belly, the sticky wetness between her thighs. He kissed her shoulders, her closed eyelids, her tear-stained cheeks, speaking in a calm, persuasive voice.

“It’s still dark outside… no one will see you yet. Stay a little longer. Let me hold you. Let me feel you beside me.”

Lakshmi remained nervous and restless, her body sore and sticky with sweat and cum. She kept whispering her fears, her eyes darting to the window every time a sound drifted in from outside.

Every distant sound made her body tense. She repeatedly tried to sit up, to reach for her clothes, but Ravi continued to delay her with soft touches, kisses on her shoulders, and quiet words, keeping her naked and close to him.

The heavy session and the lingering aftercare stretched on until nearly 7 AM. Only when the first sounds of the village truly waking—the clang of temple bells, the calls of vendors, the opening of doors—did Ravi finally stop holding her back.

“Get dressed,” he said softly. “But before you go, there is something we must discuss.”

Lakshmi moved with shaking hands, reaching for her crumpled red saree on the floor. The silk was heavily wrinkled now, damp with sweat, stained in places with dried cum and her own juices.  Her eyes were red and swollen, her hair was messy, and her body carried clear marks of the long night—faint bite marks on her neck and breasts, red handprints on her hips from his gripping fingers, and sticky wetness still leaking slowly down her inner thighs.

Before she could fully cover herself, Ravi stopped her. He took her face in his hands and made her look at him, his expression serious and commanding.

“For the full one week that Meena is away,” he said, his voice leaving no room for negotiation, “you will come to me every single night. No excuses. You are my wife now. This is not just one night. This is the beginning. You will come here after Murugan sleeps, and you will leave before dawn. Every night. Do you understand?”

Lakshmi hesitated, fear clear on her face. The idea of repeating this for seven nights terrified her—the pleasure, the guilt, the risk, the complete destruction of her marriage. But Ravi’s tone was absolute, and she was desperate to leave before the village fully woke. With a shaky voice, she finally gave him the promise he demanded.

“Yes…Yes  I will come…” she whispered in a hurry , her voice broken.

Ravi smiled—a slow, satisfied smile of victory. Then he did something unexpected. He reached into a drawer and pulled out one of Meena’s old, plain cotton sarees—simple, faded blue, completely ordinary, the kind any village woman would wear.

“Wear this saree,” he said, handing it to her. “If anyone sees you walking home at this hour in bridal silk, they will start talking. This way, you will look like any other woman who stepped out early for temple duties or market work. Hide the red silk in this bag.”

He handed her a plastic shopping bag. Lakshmi took it with trembling hands, her mind reeling at his careful planning, his thoroughness in ensuring their secret continued.

A few minutes later, the transformation was complete. The bright red silk was folded and packed inside the plastic bag, hidden under her arm. She was now wearing the dull blue cotton saree, with both thaalis carefully concealed underneath the pallu. Her hair was tied back messily, the jasmine flowers removed. From a distance, there was nothing unusual about her appearance—just another village woman returning from early morning errands.


I remained hidden in the shadows as Lakshmi slipped out of Ravi’s house into the early morning light. I watched her glance nervously left and right before starting the walk home, the plastic bag clutched tightly to her chest, her gait stiff and sore from the hours of being fucked. Keeping enough distance so she never noticed me, I followed her through the slowly waking streets, my mind completely shattered.

My normal-sized cock was still sticky with multiple loads of my own dried and fresh cum, my hand cramped from the hours of desperate masturbation. And now I carried a new, heavier knowledge:

This was not going to end with one night.

Ravi had already secured her for the entire week. Seven nights of this. Seven nights of watching my mother being claimed, being bred, being turned into another man’s wife while my father slept drunk .

As I followed my mother home in the growing light, watching the way she walked—slightly bow-legged, clearly sore, cum probably still leaking down her thighs inside the cotton saree—one question burned in my mind with an intensity that made my stomach churn:

What will happen when night falls again?

---

[Lousy1995]

Sorry, guys! It took me a little longer than expected to write this chapter. I wanted to make sure everything was written precisely and explained in detail so it would be easy to understand. That’s why it took some extra time. Thanks for your patience, and I hope you enjoy the chapter! 

[rodrigo_]

Sorry, guys! It took me a little longer than expected to write this chapter. I wanted to make sure everything was written precisely and explained in detail so it would be easy to understand. That’s why it took some extra time. Thanks for your patience, and I hope you enjoy the chapter! 

Good going @Lousy1995. If you can atleast try and include AI pictures with the script. It'll enhance the experience.

[Lousy1995]

If you have any questions or would like to talk to me about the story or anything else, feel free to contact me.

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/veteran_smoker...FlcWZwOA==
Telegram: @Lousy1995

[saka1981]

Ravi has fully indulged in the woman he desired, satisfying his passion to the fullest. There are still seven more nights left, and one wonders what he is going to put Lakshmi through. Lakshmi pleaded with Ravi until the very end, but in the end, desire prevailed.

After Meena arrives, if Ravi no longer gives Lakshmi the intimacy she craves, what will Lakshmi do? As for Arjun, he too has become a slave to his lust. He gratifies himself while watching another man enjoy his own mother.

Thank you to the author for presenting such a beautifully written intimate union. I'm eagerly looking forward to the upcoming chapters.

[aravindkkumar08]

Ravi will not leave lakskmi even Meena came back. Just casual think the development between Meena and son.

[Rishabh1]

Brother in your last story and this one, why are you making mothers leave their families and marry their lovers? This is not how affairs work in real life, people fuck around all the time, I get it this a fantasy, can we not extract pleasure from the affair with out heavily investing ourselves emotionally and ruin everything?

[aravindkkumar08]

Rishabh Bhai you are correct. Treat this story as fantasy just like you seen in dream. It's author idea. We just read and give comments. Don't mistake me bhai

[vk64]

Next update please

[Raj_Rohan]

Brother in your last story and this one, why are you making mothers leave their families and marry their lovers? This is not how affairs work in real life, people fuck around all the time, I get it this a fantasy, can we not extract pleasure from the affair with out heavily investing ourselves emotionally and ruin everything?

Dear Rishab, ur comments are okay. But as per the charector of Lakshmi (amma), she will have s*x only with the husband. So, the situation made Ravi to marry mom and so he will easily impregnate her. On other side, mom gets guilty whenever she sees her hubby in drunken state and also improper s*x.

Now she need s*x and that to with husband. Her good times gave both. Upcoming days she will freely enjoy s*x with ravi which will lead to remove the thalli tied nu murugan. That's the love.

Hope you clear. Waiting to see role of son in upcoming updates.

[joyeity]

Too erotic chapter. Could you add moaning and growing sound at the next chapter from Lakshmi. And day to day you can add foul talks while they attached physical . I think it enrich the erotica of this story. This is only request. Consideration, indeed upon to you. It would be appreciated if you add, please.

Anyway, thanks for your wonderful writing and consistancy

[sunilserene]

Absolutely marvelous brooo

[Lousy1995]

The Next update will be posted tomorrow , sorry for the wait