19-04-2025, 09:06 PM
(This post was last modified: 19-04-2025, 09:11 PM by Rajeev Gupta. Edited 2 times in total. Edited 2 times in total.)
The morning light crept through the curtains, but the house was silent, heavy with the sins of the night before. Mom—Rekha—and Manoj had slept until 10 a.m., something she never did.
Her usual 6 a.m. prayers were replaced by the weight of exhaustion and shame, her naked body curled beside Manoj’s on the bed, the anal plug still locked in her asshole.
I’d barely slept, my mind replaying her moans, her jiggling ass, and that disgusting plug. By afternoon, Manoj left for his “business,” his suitcase clinking as he swaggered out, leaving Mom and me alone in a house that felt tainted.
Mom stood in the kitchen, her face pale but composed, wearing a nice saree—pale blue with golden embroidery, not as tight as the party dress Shalini forced on her, but still hugging her curves.
The fabric dbangd over her big boobs, outlining their fullness, and clung to her fat ass, each step making her cheeks shift subtly. Her navel peeked out, a soft, oval dip above the saree’s low waist, and her hips swayed with a grace that felt too sensual for a mother.
![[Image: ass-6.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/DzSCJHkr/ass-6.png)
I watched her, my heart heavy, knowing why she was different today.
She turned to me, her eyes soft but nervous, and sat carefully, wincing as the plug shifted in her asshole. Her voice was gentle, but it carried a weight I couldn’t ignore.
Mom - “Sanjay, baby, we need to go to the pandit today. It’s important for both of us.”
Sanjay - “Why, Mom? What’s wrong? Why do we need a pandit?”
Mom - “It’s… it’s just something we need to do, okay? To make things right, to feel clean.”
Sanjay - “Clean? What do you mean? Did something happen?”
Mom - “No, no, baby. It’s just… a ritual. For peace. Don’t worry about it.”
Sanjay - “But why now, Mom? Is it because of last night?”
Mom - “Sanjay, please. It’s not about that. We just need to go. Trust me.”
I knew why, even if she wouldn’t say it. She wanted to cleanse herself of Manoj’s filth—the touch of his, the blowjob, the cum she swallowed. And me?
She probably thought I needed cleansing too, for watching her naked, for seeing her sin through the keyhole and window. Her vague words didn’t fool me, but I didn’t push, not wanting to hurt her. Still, my questions about last night burned inside me.
Me - “Mom, what was going on last night? Why were you naked with Manoj?”
Mom - “Sanjay, oh… it was nothing, baby. I thought I told you about it last night. Just… grown-up things. You shouldn’t have seen that.”
Me - “But why no clothes? And why were you screaming? It didn’t look right.”
Mom - “It was… a game, like I said. Adults do things sometimes. It’s not for kids to understand.”
Me - “A game? It looked scary, Mom. Why were you moaning like that?”
Mom - “Sanjay, enough. Don’t ask more, please. It’s not something you should think about.”
Me - “But why can’t I know? I’m worried about you.”
Mom - “Baby, I’m fine. Just… never watch again, okay? It’s private. You could get confused.”
Me - “Confused? Why would I get confused, Mom?”
Mom - “Because… it’s not for kids’ eyes. Promise me you’ll stay away from keyholes, Sanjay.”
Her explanations were useless, dodging the truth, and it frustrated me. She wasn’t acting like I suspected her—she was still my mom, soft and caring—but I knew she was hiding something shameful.
I promised not to watch again, but my mind wouldn’t let go of the images—Manoj’s cock in her pussy, her ass shaking, that plug in her asshole. We left for the pandit’s house, her saree swishing as she walked gingerly to the bus station, each step cautious, her ass barely moving to avoid the plug’s pressure.
Me - “Mom, why’re you walking so funny? Are you hurt?”
Mom - “No, baby, I’m fine. Just… a little sore from… from sitting too long.”
Me - “Sore? You sure you’re okay?”
Mom - “Yes, Sanjay. Don’t worry. Let’s just get to the bus.”
I knew it was the butt plug, lodged deep in her asshole, making every step a reminder of Manoj’s perversion. Her vague response didn’t fool me, but I stayed quiet, my heart heavy with the secret we both carried.
Her saree clung to her curves, the fabric catching the sunlight, and I couldn’t help but notice how her boobs bounced slightly, her navel winking with each sway. She was beautiful, but it felt wrong to see her like that, like she was still tainted by last night.
We reached the pandit’s house, a small, cluttered place with incense smoke curling in the air. Pandit Ganesh was old, maybe 60, his thin frame dbangd in a faded saffron dhoti and kurta, a red tilak smeared on his forehead.
His eyes were sharp, almost too sharp, and his beard was patchy, giving him a scruffy look. He knew Mom from years ago, when she’d visit for blessings, and his face lit up with surprise as we entered.
Ganesh - “Rekha! My goodness, it’s been years! What brings you here after so long?”
Mom - “Panditji, I… I needed to see you. It’s been a while, and I need… guidance.”
Ganesh - “Guidance? You’ve always been so devout. What’s troubling you?”
Mom - “It’s… personal, Panditji. I just need a ritual, for me and Sanjay, to feel… right.”
Ganesh - “Hmm, I see. Well, you’re here now. Let’s talk.”
In my innocent mind, I doubted Ganesh’s character, even though he was religious. Something about his eyes—too lingering, too eager—made me think he was a pervert, like Manoj.
Maybe it was how he smiled at Mom, or how his gaze flicked to her boobs, barely hidden by the saree’s pallu. I didn’t trust him, suspecting he hid something sinister behind his holy chants.
Mom turned to me, her voice firm but kind.
Mom - “Sanjay, go to the next room, okay? I need to talk to Panditji alone.”
Me - “Why, Mom? Can’t I stay?”
Mom - “No, baby. It’s… private. Please, just wait next door.”
I nodded, moving to the small room beside his, closing the door with a soft click. Through a thin crack, I could still hear them. Ganesh gestured to a woven mat on the floor.
Ganesh - “Sit, Rekha. On the mat, please.”
Mom - “Yes, Panditji… I’ll try…”
She lowered herself carefully, wincing as the butt plug shifted in her asshole. Her fat ass spread on the mat, the saree stretching tight, and she bit her lip, struggling to find a position that didn’t push the plug deeper.
Her hands gripped her knees, her boobs heaving as she breathed through the discomfort. Ganesh tilted his head, noticing her unease.
Ganesh - “What’s wrong, Rekha? You’re sitting so strangely.”
Mom - “Oh, it’s… nothing, Panditji. Just… a little pain in my… back. Not a… not a plug or anything.”
Ganesh - “A back pain? Hmm. Sit properly, we need to begin.”
Mom - “Yes, yes… I’m trying… it’s just… sore.”
She caught herself, nearly mentioning the butt plug, but corrected quickly. Finally, she sat, the plug sinking deeper into her asshole, and I knew it was agonizing.
I wondered—why was Mom here, seeking cleansing with Manoj’s plug still inside her? She was half pious, her faith clashing with the filth she carried, a contradiction that made my head spin. How could she pray with that thing in her?
By now I understood all the filthy dirty secrets of my mom even thought I was still young.
Ganesh began the ritual, lighting incense and chanting softly, the air thick with sandalwood. He paused, his eyes on Mom’s saree.
Ganesh - “Rekha, remove your pallu. Stay in your blouse—it’s needed for the ritual.”
Mom - “My… pallu? Is that necessary, Panditji?”
Ganesh - “Yes, it allows the mantras to flow freely. Do it now.”
She hesitated, then obeyed, letting the pallu slip, revealing her tight blouse. Her big boobs popped forward, the fabric straining, her nipples faintly visible. I knew something was wrong—why did he need her half-exposed?
![[Image: breasts-2.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/nLKXkcJp/breasts-2.png)
As she closed her eyes at his command, Ganesh’s gaze locked on her boobs, a hungry glint in his eyes. He lit more incense, his chants growing louder, but his focus was on her curves, not the ritual.
Ganesh - “Open up, Rekha. Tell me why you’re here. What burdens you?”
Mom - “I… Panditji, I feel exposed like this. Can I cover with my scarf?”
Ganesh - “No, Rekha. The blouse is part of the ritual. The scarf blocks the energy. Stay as you are.”
Mom - “I… I think I made a mistake coming here. I shouldn’t reveal my wrongs… I should go.”
Ganesh - “Stay, Rekha. Sinning is normal if you repent. Sit, tell me everything.”
She started to stand, her fat ass lifting off the mat, the plug making her wince. Ganesh’s hand shot out, grabbing her waist, his fingers lingering too long, too close to her hips in a sexual way.
Mom froze, her eyes wide, but his words were calm, almost soothing, as he gazed at her boobs and thighs, his lips twitching with a subtle drool.
Ganesh - “You’re safe here, Rekha. Everyone sins. Repent, and you’ll be clean. What did you do?”
Mom - “I… I did something very bad, Panditji. I feel so ashamed.”
Ganesh - “Bad? Tell me more. What happened? Don’t hide from the truth.”
Mom - “I… I don’t know if I can say it. It’s too heavy, too wrong.”
Ganesh - “You must, Rekha. Hiding sins blocks your soul. What did you do?”
Mom - “I… I committed adultery, Panditji. I was with another man… not my husband. I slept with him, I fell into temptations.”
Ganesh - “Temptations? Hmm. That’s not such a big sin, Rekha. Many stray and return.”
Mom - “Not big? Panditji, I betrayed Amit, my husband! How is that not terrible?”
She was shocked, but a flicker of relief crossed her face, like his words lifted some guilt. I couldn’t believe it—adultery, the anal sex, the blowjob, all dismissed so easily? Ganesh leaned closer, his eyes glued to her boobs, a thin line of drool escaping his lips as he questioned her.
Ganesh - “It’s not big because the heart can be cleansed, Rekha. How did it start? Tell me.”
Mom - “It… it was a mistake, Panditji. A friend pushed me, and… I didn’t mean to.”
Ganesh - “Pushed you? Why did you do it? Did you feel something, maybe… pleasure?”
Mom - “Pleasure? No… I mean, my body… it reacted, but I hated it. I betrayed Amit.”
Ganesh - “Betrayed? No, Rekha. You’re human. Did you like it, even a little?”
Mom - “I… I don’t know, Panditji. I feel so bad, so dirty. I’m not that woman. I want be a good wife to my husband Amit and a good mother to my son Sanjay”
Ganesh - “Calm down, Rekha. You’re not dirty. Bodies react—it’s natural. Tell me more.”
Mom - “I keep thinking I’m awful, Panditji. I let it happen… I’m a terrible wife.”
Ganesh - “Shh, Rekha. You’re not. Repent, and it’s gone. You’re still pure.”
His eyes never left her boobs and thighs, his drool now a noticeable drip, his tongue flicking to catch it. I saw his dhoti shift—a bulge growing, his dick rising under the thin fabric.
This religious man was getting aroused by my mom's exciting body and curves. I felt so angry and so disgusted.
Mom didn’t notice, too caught in her guilt, but I did, and anger boiled in me. This so-called holy man was taking advantage, lusting after her like Manoj did.
I wanted to scream, to protect her, but I was just a kid, powerless.
Ganesh stood, his voice suddenly sharp.
Ganesh - “Lie on the bed, Rekha. On your stomach. The ritual needs it.”
Mom - “On the bed? Panditji, why? Is that… normal?”
Ganesh - “Don’t question me, Rekha! Lie down, or the ritual fails. Do it now.”
Mom - “Okay… I’ll do it… but it feels strange…”
She hesitated, her suspicion clear, but obeyed, moving to the low bed. He told her to remove the saree’s pleats and petticoat, leaving her in her blouse and a thin underskirt that hugged her curves.
The underskirt was sheer, clinging to her fat ass, outlining every jiggle, and her navel was exposed, a deep, sensual dip that caught the light. Mom’s voice trembled.
Mom - “Panditji, please look away while I… while I remove this.”
Ganesh - “No, Rekha. I must watch—it’s part of the ritual. Remove it.”
Mom - “Alright… but… it feels wrong…”
She obeyed, peeling off the pleats and petticoat, the fabric sliding erotically over her ass, revealing the underskirt’s tight grip on her curves.
![[Image: ass-2.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/prBNG4d9/ass-2.png)
Her navel glistened with sweat, a perfect oval that seemed to draw Ganesh’s eyes. His brow raised as she climbed onto the bed, lying on her stomach, her fat ass spreading under the underskirt, the plug’s base faintly visible through the fabric. My heart raced—why was he doing this?
Ganesh - “Never look behind, Rekha. Stay still, face down.”
Mom - “Yes, Panditji… will this cleanse me fully? I need to be pure again.”
Ganesh - “…”
He didn’t answer, his eyes locked on her ass, his mouth slightly open, drool pooling. I watched, horrified, as he stood, undoing his dhoti.
His dick sprang free—big, thick, veined, almost as monstrous as Manoj’s, a shocking sight for a religious man. I was stunned—how could a pandit, a man of God, do this?
He began stroking, his hand moving slowly at first, then faster, his eyes devouring Mom’s ass, the underskirt outlining every curve.
His strokes were deliberate, his fingers tight around the shaft, precum glistening at the tip. He groaned, his hips twitching, and kept stroking until he came, thick spurts shooting out.
Ganesh - “Ughhh… hmmm…”
Mom - “Panditji, are you okay? What’s that sound?”
Ganesh - “I’m… fine, Rekha. Just… channeling the mantras. Stay still.”
His cum landed on Mom’s ass, splattering the underskirt, some hitting her exposed back, white streaks against her skin. She tensed, sensing something.
Mom - “Panditji, what’s… what’s on my back? It feels wet…”
Ganesh - “It’s… holy ash, Rekha. Part of the ritual. Don’t look behind.”
Mom - “Holy ash? Oh… thank you, Panditji. I feel… better already.”
She sounded pleased, clueless about the sin happening literally behind her back. Ganesh collapsed onto a chair, panting, his dick softening, cum dripping onto the floor. I was disgusted, my trust in holy men shattered—this was no ritual, just filth disguised as faith.
Mom - “Panditji, are you alright? Should I call a doctor?”
Ganesh - “No, Rekha. I’m fine. Don’t move, don’t look behind. The ritual’s not done.”
Mom - “Okay… I’ll stay… thank you for helping me.”
Her voice was soft, trusting, but I knew the truth—Ganesh was a pervert, and Mom was caught in another man’s lust, her half-pious heart blind to the cum on her back.
I wanted to save her, but I was just Sanjay, a kid with no power, watching her fall deeper into a world of sin
The morning light crept through the curtains, but the house was silent, heavy with the sins of the night before. Mom—Rekha—and Manoj had slept until 10 a.m., something she never did.
Her usual 6 a.m. prayers were replaced by the weight of exhaustion and shame, her naked body curled beside Manoj’s on the bed, the anal plug still locked in her asshole.
I’d barely slept, my mind replaying her moans, her jiggling ass, and that disgusting plug. By afternoon, Manoj left for his “business,” his suitcase clinking as he swaggered out, leaving Mom and me alone in a house that felt tainted.
Mom stood in the kitchen, her face pale but composed, wearing a nice saree—pale blue with golden embroidery, not as tight as the party dress Shalini forced on her, but still hugging her curves.
The fabric dbangd over her big boobs, outlining their fullness, and clung to her fat ass, each step making her cheeks shift subtly. Her navel peeked out, a soft, oval dip above the saree’s low waist, and her hips swayed with a grace that felt too sensual for a mother.
I watched her, my heart heavy, knowing why she was different today.
She turned to me, her eyes soft but nervous, and sat carefully, wincing as the plug shifted in her asshole. Her voice was gentle, but it carried a weight I couldn’t ignore.
Mom - “Sanjay, baby, we need to go to the pandit today. It’s important for both of us.”
Sanjay - “Why, Mom? What’s wrong? Why do we need a pandit?”
Mom - “It’s… it’s just something we need to do, okay? To make things right, to feel clean.”
Sanjay - “Clean? What do you mean? Did something happen?”
Mom - “No, no, baby. It’s just… a ritual. For peace. Don’t worry about it.”
Sanjay - “But why now, Mom? Is it because of last night?”
Mom - “Sanjay, please. It’s not about that. We just need to go. Trust me.”
I knew why, even if she wouldn’t say it. She wanted to cleanse herself of Manoj’s filth—the touch of his, the blowjob, the cum she swallowed. And me?
She probably thought I needed cleansing too, for watching her naked, for seeing her sin through the keyhole and window. Her vague words didn’t fool me, but I didn’t push, not wanting to hurt her. Still, my questions about last night burned inside me.
Me - “Mom, what was going on last night? Why were you naked with Manoj?”
Mom - “Sanjay, oh… it was nothing, baby. I thought I told you about it last night. Just… grown-up things. You shouldn’t have seen that.”
Me - “But why no clothes? And why were you screaming? It didn’t look right.”
Mom - “It was… a game, like I said. Adults do things sometimes. It’s not for kids to understand.”
Me - “A game? It looked scary, Mom. Why were you moaning like that?”
Mom - “Sanjay, enough. Don’t ask more, please. It’s not something you should think about.”
Me - “But why can’t I know? I’m worried about you.”
Mom - “Baby, I’m fine. Just… never watch again, okay? It’s private. You could get confused.”
Me - “Confused? Why would I get confused, Mom?”
Mom - “Because… it’s not for kids’ eyes. Promise me you’ll stay away from keyholes, Sanjay.”
Her explanations were useless, dodging the truth, and it frustrated me. She wasn’t acting like I suspected her—she was still my mom, soft and caring—but I knew she was hiding something shameful.
I promised not to watch again, but my mind wouldn’t let go of the images—Manoj’s cock in her pussy, her ass shaking, that plug in her asshole. We left for the pandit’s house, her saree swishing as she walked gingerly to the bus station, each step cautious, her ass barely moving to avoid the plug’s pressure.
Me - “Mom, why’re you walking so funny? Are you hurt?”
Mom - “No, baby, I’m fine. Just… a little sore from… from sitting too long.”
Me - “Sore? You sure you’re okay?”
Mom - “Yes, Sanjay. Don’t worry. Let’s just get to the bus.”
I knew it was the butt plug, lodged deep in her asshole, making every step a reminder of Manoj’s perversion. Her vague response didn’t fool me, but I stayed quiet, my heart heavy with the secret we both carried.
Her saree clung to her curves, the fabric catching the sunlight, and I couldn’t help but notice how her boobs bounced slightly, her navel winking with each sway. She was beautiful, but it felt wrong to see her like that, like she was still tainted by last night.
We reached the pandit’s house, a small, cluttered place with incense smoke curling in the air. Pandit Ganesh was old, maybe 60, his thin frame dbangd in a faded saffron dhoti and kurta, a red tilak smeared on his forehead.
His eyes were sharp, almost too sharp, and his beard was patchy, giving him a scruffy look. He knew Mom from years ago, when she’d visit for blessings, and his face lit up with surprise as we entered.
Ganesh - “Rekha! My goodness, it’s been years! What brings you here after so long?”
Mom - “Panditji, I… I needed to see you. It’s been a while, and I need… guidance.”
Ganesh - “Guidance? You’ve always been so devout. What’s troubling you?”
Mom - “It’s… personal, Panditji. I just need a ritual, for me and Sanjay, to feel… right.”
Ganesh - “Hmm, I see. Well, you’re here now. Let’s talk.”
In my innocent mind, I doubted Ganesh’s character, even though he was religious. Something about his eyes—too lingering, too eager—made me think he was a pervert, like Manoj.
Maybe it was how he smiled at Mom, or how his gaze flicked to her boobs, barely hidden by the saree’s pallu. I didn’t trust him, suspecting he hid something sinister behind his holy chants.
Mom turned to me, her voice firm but kind.
Mom - “Sanjay, go to the next room, okay? I need to talk to Panditji alone.”
Me - “Why, Mom? Can’t I stay?”
Mom - “No, baby. It’s… private. Please, just wait next door.”
I nodded, moving to the small room beside his, closing the door with a soft click. Through a thin crack, I could still hear them. Ganesh gestured to a woven mat on the floor.
Ganesh - “Sit, Rekha. On the mat, please.”
Mom - “Yes, Panditji… I’ll try…”
She lowered herself carefully, wincing as the butt plug shifted in her asshole. Her fat ass spread on the mat, the saree stretching tight, and she bit her lip, struggling to find a position that didn’t push the plug deeper.
Her hands gripped her knees, her boobs heaving as she breathed through the discomfort. Ganesh tilted his head, noticing her unease.
Ganesh - “What’s wrong, Rekha? You’re sitting so strangely.”
Mom - “Oh, it’s… nothing, Panditji. Just… a little pain in my… back. Not a… not a plug or anything.”
Ganesh - “A back pain? Hmm. Sit properly, we need to begin.”
Mom - “Yes, yes… I’m trying… it’s just… sore.”
She caught herself, nearly mentioning the butt plug, but corrected quickly. Finally, she sat, the plug sinking deeper into her asshole, and I knew it was agonizing.
I wondered—why was Mom here, seeking cleansing with Manoj’s plug still inside her? She was half pious, her faith clashing with the filth she carried, a contradiction that made my head spin. How could she pray with that thing in her?
By now I understood all the filthy dirty secrets of my mom even thought I was still young.
Ganesh began the ritual, lighting incense and chanting softly, the air thick with sandalwood. He paused, his eyes on Mom’s saree.
Ganesh - “Rekha, remove your pallu. Stay in your blouse—it’s needed for the ritual.”
Mom - “My… pallu? Is that necessary, Panditji?”
Ganesh - “Yes, it allows the mantras to flow freely. Do it now.”
She hesitated, then obeyed, letting the pallu slip, revealing her tight blouse. Her big boobs popped forward, the fabric straining, her nipples faintly visible. I knew something was wrong—why did he need her half-exposed?
As she closed her eyes at his command, Ganesh’s gaze locked on her boobs, a hungry glint in his eyes. He lit more incense, his chants growing louder, but his focus was on her curves, not the ritual.
Ganesh - “Open up, Rekha. Tell me why you’re here. What burdens you?”
Mom - “I… Panditji, I feel exposed like this. Can I cover with my scarf?”
Ganesh - “No, Rekha. The blouse is part of the ritual. The scarf blocks the energy. Stay as you are.”
Mom - “I… I think I made a mistake coming here. I shouldn’t reveal my wrongs… I should go.”
Ganesh - “Stay, Rekha. Sinning is normal if you repent. Sit, tell me everything.”
She started to stand, her fat ass lifting off the mat, the plug making her wince. Ganesh’s hand shot out, grabbing her waist, his fingers lingering too long, too close to her hips in a sexual way.
Mom froze, her eyes wide, but his words were calm, almost soothing, as he gazed at her boobs and thighs, his lips twitching with a subtle drool.
Ganesh - “You’re safe here, Rekha. Everyone sins. Repent, and you’ll be clean. What did you do?”
Mom - “I… I did something very bad, Panditji. I feel so ashamed.”
Ganesh - “Bad? Tell me more. What happened? Don’t hide from the truth.”
Mom - “I… I don’t know if I can say it. It’s too heavy, too wrong.”
Ganesh - “You must, Rekha. Hiding sins blocks your soul. What did you do?”
Mom - “I… I committed adultery, Panditji. I was with another man… not my husband. I slept with him, I fell into temptations.”
Ganesh - “Temptations? Hmm. That’s not such a big sin, Rekha. Many stray and return.”
Mom - “Not big? Panditji, I betrayed Amit, my husband! How is that not terrible?”
She was shocked, but a flicker of relief crossed her face, like his words lifted some guilt. I couldn’t believe it—adultery, the anal sex, the blowjob, all dismissed so easily? Ganesh leaned closer, his eyes glued to her boobs, a thin line of drool escaping his lips as he questioned her.
Ganesh - “It’s not big because the heart can be cleansed, Rekha. How did it start? Tell me.”
Mom - “It… it was a mistake, Panditji. A friend pushed me, and… I didn’t mean to.”
Ganesh - “Pushed you? Why did you do it? Did you feel something, maybe… pleasure?”
Mom - “Pleasure? No… I mean, my body… it reacted, but I hated it. I betrayed Amit.”
Ganesh - “Betrayed? No, Rekha. You’re human. Did you like it, even a little?”
Mom - “I… I don’t know, Panditji. I feel so bad, so dirty. I’m not that woman. I want be a good wife to my husband Amit and a good mother to my son Sanjay”
Ganesh - “Calm down, Rekha. You’re not dirty. Bodies react—it’s natural. Tell me more.”
Mom - “I keep thinking I’m awful, Panditji. I let it happen… I’m a terrible wife.”
Ganesh - “Shh, Rekha. You’re not. Repent, and it’s gone. You’re still pure.”
His eyes never left her boobs and thighs, his drool now a noticeable drip, his tongue flicking to catch it. I saw his dhoti shift—a bulge growing, his dick rising under the thin fabric.
This religious man was getting aroused by my mom's exciting body and curves. I felt so angry and so disgusted.
Mom didn’t notice, too caught in her guilt, but I did, and anger boiled in me. This so-called holy man was taking advantage, lusting after her like Manoj did.
I wanted to scream, to protect her, but I was just a kid, powerless.
Ganesh stood, his voice suddenly sharp.
Ganesh - “Lie on the bed, Rekha. On your stomach. The ritual needs it.”
Mom - “On the bed? Panditji, why? Is that… normal?”
Ganesh - “Don’t question me, Rekha! Lie down, or the ritual fails. Do it now.”
Mom - “Okay… I’ll do it… but it feels strange…”
She hesitated, her suspicion clear, but obeyed, moving to the low bed. He told her to remove the saree’s pleats and petticoat, leaving her in her blouse and a thin underskirt that hugged her curves.
The underskirt was sheer, clinging to her fat ass, outlining every jiggle, and her navel was exposed, a deep, sensual dip that caught the light. Mom’s voice trembled.
Mom - “Panditji, please look away while I… while I remove this.”
Ganesh - “No, Rekha. I must watch—it’s part of the ritual. Remove it.”
Mom - “Alright… but… it feels wrong…”
She obeyed, peeling off the pleats and petticoat, the fabric sliding erotically over her ass, revealing the underskirt’s tight grip on her curves.
Her navel glistened with sweat, a perfect oval that seemed to draw Ganesh’s eyes. His brow raised as she climbed onto the bed, lying on her stomach, her fat ass spreading under the underskirt, the plug’s base faintly visible through the fabric. My heart raced—why was he doing this?
Ganesh - “Never look behind, Rekha. Stay still, face down.”
Mom - “Yes, Panditji… will this cleanse me fully? I need to be pure again.”
Ganesh - “…”
He didn’t answer, his eyes locked on her ass, his mouth slightly open, drool pooling. I watched, horrified, as he stood, undoing his dhoti.
His dick sprang free—big, thick, veined, almost as monstrous as Manoj’s, a shocking sight for a religious man. I was stunned—how could a pandit, a man of God, do this?
He began stroking, his hand moving slowly at first, then faster, his eyes devouring Mom’s ass, the underskirt outlining every curve.
His strokes were deliberate, his fingers tight around the shaft, precum glistening at the tip. He groaned, his hips twitching, and kept stroking until he came, thick spurts shooting out.
Ganesh - “Ughhh… hmmm…”
Mom - “Panditji, are you okay? What’s that sound?”
Ganesh - “I’m… fine, Rekha. Just… channeling the mantras. Stay still.”
His cum landed on Mom’s ass, splattering the underskirt, some hitting her exposed back, white streaks against her skin. She tensed, sensing something.
Mom - “Panditji, what’s… what’s on my back? It feels wet…”
Ganesh - “It’s… holy ash, Rekha. Part of the ritual. Don’t look behind.”
Mom - “Holy ash? Oh… thank you, Panditji. I feel… better already.”
She sounded pleased, clueless about the sin happening literally behind her back. Ganesh collapsed onto a chair, panting, his dick softening, cum dripping onto the floor. I was disgusted, my trust in holy men shattered—this was no ritual, just filth disguised as faith.
Mom - “Panditji, are you alright? Should I call a doctor?”
Ganesh - “No, Rekha. I’m fine. Don’t move, don’t look behind. The ritual’s not done.”
Mom - “Okay… I’ll stay… thank you for helping me.”
Her voice was soft, trusting, but I knew the truth—Ganesh was a pervert, and Mom was caught in another man’s lust, her half-pious heart blind to the cum on her back.
I wanted to save her, but I was just Sanjay, a kid with no power, watching her fall deeper into a world of sin
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