Today, 12:51 AM
The room was a haze of shadows and sounds I couldn’t unhear—Mom’s soft gasps, Manoj’s grunts, the creak of the bed.
Me with my innocent mind, was still crouched by the door, my eye burning from the keyhole, my heart a knot of fear and confusion.
My beautiful but pious Mom—Rekha—was straddling Manoj, her fat ass trembling as she hovered over his cock, the tip just inside her dripping pussy.
Her big boobs swayed, nipples hard, and her face was tight with pain, but her thighs were slick, betraying her.
I didn’t understand why her body looked ready when her eyes screamed no.
M mom's body was in need of sex but her mind wasn't letting her. Manoj’s hands gripped her hips, pulling her down, and I wanted to burst in, to save her, but I was just Sanjay, a kid too small to fight.
Her pussy stretched around the tip, and she whimpered, her hands shaking.
Manoj’s cock was massive—thick, veined, glistening with her wetness, a monster forcing its way deeper.
I think if mom was given an option to choose between dad's cock and Manoj's, I am pretty sure she could've chosen Manoj's rock hard cock.
It pushed past the tip now, inching into her, mom's lips parting wider with every slow thrust. Her breath hitched, sharp and desperate.
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, your pussy’s tight. Take my cock deeper, slut—let it fill you up.”
Mom - “I can’t, Manoj—it’s too big, it hurts. Please, I can’t take any more.”
Manoj - “Don’t fucking whine, Rekha. You’re wet as hell—push down, take my dick all the way.”
Mom - “No, Manoj—it’s stretching me too much. I’m trying, but it’s… it’s too much.”
Her voice was soft, pleading, no longer heavy with prayers but raw with fear.
She placed her hands on his chest, fingers digging into his skin for support, her boobs bouncing slightly as she steadied herself.
Her fat ass quivered, and then, to my shock, she started moving—not just from his pulling, but on her own, a slow roll of her hips.
Her pussy slid down another inch, swallowing more of his cock, and her breath caught, a mix of pain and something else, something I couldn’t name as a kid.
Was it pleasure? Her eyes fluttered, and her movements grew smoother, like her body was taking over.
Manoj - “Holy shit, Rekha, you’re riding me now? Fuck, you’re moving that pussy on your own, you slut.”
Mom - “No, Manoj—I’m not… I’m just trying to make it stop hurting. It’s not what you think.”
Manoj - “Bullshit, you’re loving my cock. Keep going, bitch—fuck me like you mean it.”
Mom - “I don’t mean it, Manoj. I’m… I’m just doing what I have to. Please, don’t say that.”
Her voice cracked, hiding the truth I couldn’t see then—that her body was responding, chasing a pleasure she didn’t want to feel.
I was innocent, my mind still clinging to Manoj’s lie from earlier that day. He’d smirked at me, saying he was coming over to give Mom a “massage” to help her relax.
I’d nodded, thinking it was like when Dad rubbed her shoulders after a long day. But this—this was no massage.
Mom’s pussy sliding down his cock, her ass jiggling, her moans starting to slip out—it was a sin, I realized, my young heart twisting.
Manoj wasn’t helping her; he was doing something sinful to her, and I’d been too naive to see it coming.
But still I don't understand what this sinful thing is
Her hips moved faster now, his cock sinking deeper, halfway in, thick and relentless.
Her hands pressed harder on his chest, her nails biting into him. Her moans grew louder, soft but undeniable, and I froze, my innocence crumbling.
She was sinning, betraying Dad, betraying me, even if Manoj was forcing her. But I was not sure if she was.
Something just felt off about it.
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, listen to you moaning. My cock’s big, isn’t it? Tell me how it feels, slut.”
Mom - “It’s… it’s big, Manoj, too big. I can’t help it—it’s just… it’s happening.”
Manoj - “Can’t believe you’re turning into this, Rekha. Moaning like a whore—your pussy’s loving my dick. While your son is sleeping next room”
Mom - “No, Manoj—I’m not changing. It’s just my body… I don’t want this, I swear.”
Her voice was desperate, but her hips kept moving, her pussy now elastic, stretching to take more of him.
She was tuning in, I saw it—her face softening, her moans less pained, more rhythmic, as Manoj fucked her deeper.
His cock slid in and out, slick with her wetness, and her fat ass jiggled with every thrust, a hypnotic ripple that made my stomach churn.
My queen mom was being fucked by a king.
She wasn’t fighting as hard, and I didn’t understand why but the more she fought, the more she was finding herself riding.
Manoj reached up, grabbing her hair, twisting it in his fist as she rode him, pulling her head back slightly.
Her boobs bounced wildly, her nipples tight and swollen.
Manoj - “Ride me harder, Rekha. Your hair’s mine, your pussy’s mine—fuck my cock like a slut.”
Mom - “Please, Manoj, don’t pull so hard. I’m trying… I don’t want to do this.”
Manoj - “Trying? You’re fucking me good, bitch. Keep that pussy moving—take every inch.”
Mom - “I… I can’t stop it, Manoj. It’s too much, but I don’t mean it, I don’t.”
Her ass was a sight I couldn’t escape—fat, round, jiggling like it had a life of its own, her pussy so elastic now it swallowed his cock with less resistance.
She forgot herself for a moment, her hips grinding faster, a soft moan slipping out, almost eager. My heart sank—she was enjoying it, wasn’t she?
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, slow down—you’re riding me like a whore. You’re loving this cock, aren’t you?”
Mom - “No, Manoj—please, go slower. I’m… I’m losing control, but I don’t want to.”
Manoj - “Slower? You’re going way faster than me, slut. Your pussy’s begging for my dick.”
Mom - “I don’t mean to, Manoj. It’s just… it’s happening. I can’t help it.”
Her voice was soft, almost lost, as she tried to pull back, but her body didn’t listen.
How was my mom lying that she doesn't want it but she was willingly riding him?
She was doing other things now, things that burned into my mind—her fingers curling on his chest, her back arching to push her boobs forward, her thighs squeezing him like she was chasing something.
Manoj’s hands moved to her boobs, cupping them roughly, his thumbs flicking her nipples, pinching them until she gasped.
Manoj - “Look at these tits, Rekha. So fucking big—your nipples are hard as hell. You love this, don’t you?”
Mom - “No, Manoj—don’t touch me like that. It’s… it’s too much, please stop.”
Manoj - “Stop? Your boobs are bouncing for me, slut. I’m gonna play with these nipples all night.”
Mom - “I can’t help it, Manoj. My body’s… it’s not me. I don’t want this.”
My innocent mind was gone now, replaced by a cold truth—this was wrong, so wrong.
Mom wasn’t just being forced; she was moving with him, moaning, her pussy wet and eager.
Manoj’s lie about a massage had tricked me, but the truth was clear: this was sex, a sin, a betrayal of Dad.
I wanted to scream, to make it stop, but I was trapped, watching my mom unravel.
Manoj’s grin was pure venom as he fucked her deeper, his cock nearly fully inside now.
He let go of her boobs, grabbing her hips again, then leaned up, his voice a cruel whisper.
Manoj - “Rekha, tell your husband Amit he’s got a slut for a wife. Say you’re a whore who betrayed him.”
Mom - “No, Manoj—I won’t say that. Amit’s my love, my life. I can’t hurt him like that.”
Manoj - “Fucking say it, bitch, or I’ll make you scream it. You’re riding my cock—tell Amit you’re a slut.”
Mom - “Please, Manoj, don’t make me. I’m not that woman—I’m still his, always.”
Manoj - “Apologize to Amit for cheating, Rekha. Say you’re sorry for fucking me, you whore.”
Mom - “I won’t, Manoj. I didn’t choose this—you’re forcing me. I won’t betray him more.”
His hand shot to her hair again, yanking hard, and he thrust up brutally, his cock slamming deep into her pussy.
She cried out, her body shuddering, and her resistance cracked under the pain and pleasure.
Mom - “I’m sorry, Amit—I’m so sorry for this. I didn’t mean to… I’m a slut, a whore. Forgive me.”
Manoj - “Fuck yeah, Rekha—that’s it. You’re my slut now, not his. Keep riding, bitch.”
Mom - “No, Manoj—I’m still Amit’s. I only said it because you made me. I hate you.”
Her voice broke, tears streaming, but her hips didn’t stop, her pussy taking him fully now.
Manoj laughed, a sick triumph, and pulled out suddenly, his cock slick and throbbing. He slapped her thigh, hard.
Manoj - “Turn around, Rekha. Get in doggystyle—I’m gonna fuck that pussy raw.”
Mom - “Okay, Manoj… I’ll do it. Just… just don’t hurt me more.”
I was shocked—she obeyed, no fight left, flipping onto her hands and knees like she was giving in.
Was she wanting this now? Her fat ass was up, jiggling slightly, her pussy glistening and open.
I couldn’t believe it—Mom wasn’t complaining, wasn’t pleading. It was like she was ready to be fucked, and my heart shattered, thinking she’d chosen this.
Manoj positioned himself behind her, his hand cracking down on her ass, leaving a red mark.
Her cheeks rippled, and she gasped, her face a mix of shock and something else—pleasure, I realized, my stomach twisting.
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, this ass is perfect—fat, jiggly, begging for my cock. I’m gonna fuck your pussy so hard.”
Mom - “Manoj, please… not so rough. Just… just do it, but don’t talk like that.”
Manoj - “Rough? You love it, slut. Look at this ass shaking—gonna shove my dick in deep.”
Mom - “I don’t love it, Manoj. I’m just… I’m doing what you want. Please, be gentle.”
He guided his cock to her pussy, the tip brushing her lips, then thrust in hard, no warning.
Her pussy swallowed him, elastic and slick, and she moaned, loud and raw, her ass jiggling with every slam.
Manoj fucked her relentlessly, his hands gripping her hips, slapping her ass again, the sound echoing.
Her face was what broke me—eyes half-closed, lips parted, moans spilling out like she was lost in it. Pleasure, clear as day, even if she didn’t want it.
Her pussy was wetter now, her body rocking back to meet his thrusts, and I couldn’t deny it—she was tuning in, her body betraying her heart.
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, your pussy’s gripping my cock. You’re loving this doggystyle, aren’t you, whore?”
Mom - “No, Manoj… I’m not. It’s just… it feels… I can’t stop it. Please, slow down.”
Manoj - “Slow down? Your ass is bouncing like crazy—keep fucking me back, slut.”
Mom - “I’m trying not to, Manoj. My body’s… it’s not me. I don’t want this.”
But she did, in some way—her moans were louder, her pussy clenching him, her ass a blur of motion.
She was still Mom, but she was something else too, someone I didn’t know, and it crushed me, my innocence gone, replaced by the truth of her sin.
Me with my innocent mind, was still crouched by the door, my eye burning from the keyhole, my heart a knot of fear and confusion.
My beautiful but pious Mom—Rekha—was straddling Manoj, her fat ass trembling as she hovered over his cock, the tip just inside her dripping pussy.
Her big boobs swayed, nipples hard, and her face was tight with pain, but her thighs were slick, betraying her.
I didn’t understand why her body looked ready when her eyes screamed no.
M mom's body was in need of sex but her mind wasn't letting her. Manoj’s hands gripped her hips, pulling her down, and I wanted to burst in, to save her, but I was just Sanjay, a kid too small to fight.
Her pussy stretched around the tip, and she whimpered, her hands shaking.
Manoj’s cock was massive—thick, veined, glistening with her wetness, a monster forcing its way deeper.
I think if mom was given an option to choose between dad's cock and Manoj's, I am pretty sure she could've chosen Manoj's rock hard cock.
It pushed past the tip now, inching into her, mom's lips parting wider with every slow thrust. Her breath hitched, sharp and desperate.
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, your pussy’s tight. Take my cock deeper, slut—let it fill you up.”
Mom - “I can’t, Manoj—it’s too big, it hurts. Please, I can’t take any more.”
Manoj - “Don’t fucking whine, Rekha. You’re wet as hell—push down, take my dick all the way.”
Mom - “No, Manoj—it’s stretching me too much. I’m trying, but it’s… it’s too much.”
Her voice was soft, pleading, no longer heavy with prayers but raw with fear.
She placed her hands on his chest, fingers digging into his skin for support, her boobs bouncing slightly as she steadied herself.
Her fat ass quivered, and then, to my shock, she started moving—not just from his pulling, but on her own, a slow roll of her hips.
Her pussy slid down another inch, swallowing more of his cock, and her breath caught, a mix of pain and something else, something I couldn’t name as a kid.
Was it pleasure? Her eyes fluttered, and her movements grew smoother, like her body was taking over.
Manoj - “Holy shit, Rekha, you’re riding me now? Fuck, you’re moving that pussy on your own, you slut.”
Mom - “No, Manoj—I’m not… I’m just trying to make it stop hurting. It’s not what you think.”
Manoj - “Bullshit, you’re loving my cock. Keep going, bitch—fuck me like you mean it.”
Mom - “I don’t mean it, Manoj. I’m… I’m just doing what I have to. Please, don’t say that.”
Her voice cracked, hiding the truth I couldn’t see then—that her body was responding, chasing a pleasure she didn’t want to feel.
I was innocent, my mind still clinging to Manoj’s lie from earlier that day. He’d smirked at me, saying he was coming over to give Mom a “massage” to help her relax.
I’d nodded, thinking it was like when Dad rubbed her shoulders after a long day. But this—this was no massage.
Mom’s pussy sliding down his cock, her ass jiggling, her moans starting to slip out—it was a sin, I realized, my young heart twisting.
Manoj wasn’t helping her; he was doing something sinful to her, and I’d been too naive to see it coming.
But still I don't understand what this sinful thing is
Her hips moved faster now, his cock sinking deeper, halfway in, thick and relentless.
Her hands pressed harder on his chest, her nails biting into him. Her moans grew louder, soft but undeniable, and I froze, my innocence crumbling.
She was sinning, betraying Dad, betraying me, even if Manoj was forcing her. But I was not sure if she was.
Something just felt off about it.
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, listen to you moaning. My cock’s big, isn’t it? Tell me how it feels, slut.”
Mom - “It’s… it’s big, Manoj, too big. I can’t help it—it’s just… it’s happening.”
Manoj - “Can’t believe you’re turning into this, Rekha. Moaning like a whore—your pussy’s loving my dick. While your son is sleeping next room”
Mom - “No, Manoj—I’m not changing. It’s just my body… I don’t want this, I swear.”
Her voice was desperate, but her hips kept moving, her pussy now elastic, stretching to take more of him.
She was tuning in, I saw it—her face softening, her moans less pained, more rhythmic, as Manoj fucked her deeper.
His cock slid in and out, slick with her wetness, and her fat ass jiggled with every thrust, a hypnotic ripple that made my stomach churn.
My queen mom was being fucked by a king.
She wasn’t fighting as hard, and I didn’t understand why but the more she fought, the more she was finding herself riding.
Manoj reached up, grabbing her hair, twisting it in his fist as she rode him, pulling her head back slightly.
Her boobs bounced wildly, her nipples tight and swollen.
Manoj - “Ride me harder, Rekha. Your hair’s mine, your pussy’s mine—fuck my cock like a slut.”
Mom - “Please, Manoj, don’t pull so hard. I’m trying… I don’t want to do this.”
Manoj - “Trying? You’re fucking me good, bitch. Keep that pussy moving—take every inch.”
Mom - “I… I can’t stop it, Manoj. It’s too much, but I don’t mean it, I don’t.”
Her ass was a sight I couldn’t escape—fat, round, jiggling like it had a life of its own, her pussy so elastic now it swallowed his cock with less resistance.
She forgot herself for a moment, her hips grinding faster, a soft moan slipping out, almost eager. My heart sank—she was enjoying it, wasn’t she?
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, slow down—you’re riding me like a whore. You’re loving this cock, aren’t you?”
Mom - “No, Manoj—please, go slower. I’m… I’m losing control, but I don’t want to.”
Manoj - “Slower? You’re going way faster than me, slut. Your pussy’s begging for my dick.”
Mom - “I don’t mean to, Manoj. It’s just… it’s happening. I can’t help it.”
Her voice was soft, almost lost, as she tried to pull back, but her body didn’t listen.
How was my mom lying that she doesn't want it but she was willingly riding him?
She was doing other things now, things that burned into my mind—her fingers curling on his chest, her back arching to push her boobs forward, her thighs squeezing him like she was chasing something.
Manoj’s hands moved to her boobs, cupping them roughly, his thumbs flicking her nipples, pinching them until she gasped.
Manoj - “Look at these tits, Rekha. So fucking big—your nipples are hard as hell. You love this, don’t you?”
Mom - “No, Manoj—don’t touch me like that. It’s… it’s too much, please stop.”
Manoj - “Stop? Your boobs are bouncing for me, slut. I’m gonna play with these nipples all night.”
Mom - “I can’t help it, Manoj. My body’s… it’s not me. I don’t want this.”
My innocent mind was gone now, replaced by a cold truth—this was wrong, so wrong.
Mom wasn’t just being forced; she was moving with him, moaning, her pussy wet and eager.
Manoj’s lie about a massage had tricked me, but the truth was clear: this was sex, a sin, a betrayal of Dad.
I wanted to scream, to make it stop, but I was trapped, watching my mom unravel.
Manoj’s grin was pure venom as he fucked her deeper, his cock nearly fully inside now.
He let go of her boobs, grabbing her hips again, then leaned up, his voice a cruel whisper.
Manoj - “Rekha, tell your husband Amit he’s got a slut for a wife. Say you’re a whore who betrayed him.”
Mom - “No, Manoj—I won’t say that. Amit’s my love, my life. I can’t hurt him like that.”
Manoj - “Fucking say it, bitch, or I’ll make you scream it. You’re riding my cock—tell Amit you’re a slut.”
Mom - “Please, Manoj, don’t make me. I’m not that woman—I’m still his, always.”
Manoj - “Apologize to Amit for cheating, Rekha. Say you’re sorry for fucking me, you whore.”
Mom - “I won’t, Manoj. I didn’t choose this—you’re forcing me. I won’t betray him more.”
His hand shot to her hair again, yanking hard, and he thrust up brutally, his cock slamming deep into her pussy.
She cried out, her body shuddering, and her resistance cracked under the pain and pleasure.
Mom - “I’m sorry, Amit—I’m so sorry for this. I didn’t mean to… I’m a slut, a whore. Forgive me.”
Manoj - “Fuck yeah, Rekha—that’s it. You’re my slut now, not his. Keep riding, bitch.”
Mom - “No, Manoj—I’m still Amit’s. I only said it because you made me. I hate you.”
Her voice broke, tears streaming, but her hips didn’t stop, her pussy taking him fully now.
Manoj laughed, a sick triumph, and pulled out suddenly, his cock slick and throbbing. He slapped her thigh, hard.
Manoj - “Turn around, Rekha. Get in doggystyle—I’m gonna fuck that pussy raw.”
Mom - “Okay, Manoj… I’ll do it. Just… just don’t hurt me more.”
I was shocked—she obeyed, no fight left, flipping onto her hands and knees like she was giving in.
Was she wanting this now? Her fat ass was up, jiggling slightly, her pussy glistening and open.
I couldn’t believe it—Mom wasn’t complaining, wasn’t pleading. It was like she was ready to be fucked, and my heart shattered, thinking she’d chosen this.
Manoj positioned himself behind her, his hand cracking down on her ass, leaving a red mark.
Her cheeks rippled, and she gasped, her face a mix of shock and something else—pleasure, I realized, my stomach twisting.
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, this ass is perfect—fat, jiggly, begging for my cock. I’m gonna fuck your pussy so hard.”
Mom - “Manoj, please… not so rough. Just… just do it, but don’t talk like that.”
Manoj - “Rough? You love it, slut. Look at this ass shaking—gonna shove my dick in deep.”
Mom - “I don’t love it, Manoj. I’m just… I’m doing what you want. Please, be gentle.”
He guided his cock to her pussy, the tip brushing her lips, then thrust in hard, no warning.
Her pussy swallowed him, elastic and slick, and she moaned, loud and raw, her ass jiggling with every slam.
Manoj fucked her relentlessly, his hands gripping her hips, slapping her ass again, the sound echoing.
Her face was what broke me—eyes half-closed, lips parted, moans spilling out like she was lost in it. Pleasure, clear as day, even if she didn’t want it.
Her pussy was wetter now, her body rocking back to meet his thrusts, and I couldn’t deny it—she was tuning in, her body betraying her heart.
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, your pussy’s gripping my cock. You’re loving this doggystyle, aren’t you, whore?”
Mom - “No, Manoj… I’m not. It’s just… it feels… I can’t stop it. Please, slow down.”
Manoj - “Slow down? Your ass is bouncing like crazy—keep fucking me back, slut.”
Mom - “I’m trying not to, Manoj. My body’s… it’s not me. I don’t want this.”
But she did, in some way—her moans were louder, her pussy clenching him, her ass a blur of motion.
She was still Mom, but she was something else too, someone I didn’t know, and it crushed me, my innocence gone, replaced by the truth of her sin.
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