Adultery Whispers of Lust: My Mom's Forbidden Path

[Rajeev Gupta]

The bedroom door clicked shut, locking Mom—Rekha—and Manoj inside, but the keyhole offered me a shameful view. My heart pounded, anger and curiosity warring within me. 

Mom’s red satin dress hugged her curves, her big boobs straining the fabric, her fat ass a hypnotic swell. She’d worn it to seduce Dad, to erase Manoj’s touch, but now she was trapped with him, her holy body at his mercy. 

I pressed my eye to the keyhole, cursing myself, knowing that I am doing a sin myself for watching my mom with another man instead of calling my dad and telling him that his wife is a brand new slut.

Manoj grabbed Mom, bending her over while she stood, her hands gripping the bed’s edge. He raised her satin dress, the fabric sliding up her thighs, revealing her bare ass—no panties. 





My breath caught; my mom didn't wear any panties, it was understandable because she wanted to have sex with my dad later that night. But now Manoj saw, his grin widening, and I thought of Shalini’s words when she told my mom that “All women are sluts inside.” 

Mom’s choice of not to wear panties, her sexy dress—made me wonder if Shalini was right. 

Was Mom a slut deep down, hiding behind her holy facade? Was my mom an actual whore who was just religious outside? Shalini’s voice echoed in my mind, and I saw it: Mom’s eagerness to please Dad, her secret with Manoj, her body’s betrayal. 

She wasn’t just a victim—she was complicit, her inner filth surfacing, just as Shalini predicted.

Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, no panties? You’re a fucking whore, just like I knew.”


Mom - “No, Manoj! I’m holy, a wife—I wore this for Amit, not you!”

Manoj - “For Amit? Bullshit you are lying. Your bare asshole is screaming for my cock.”

Mom - “Stop it! I’m not a whore—I’m religious, a mother to Sanjay! A good faithful woman”

Manoj - “Your fat ass is naked under this dress—whore behavior, Rekha.”

Mom - “I swear, it’s for my husband! I’m pure, Manoj—don’t say that!”

Manoj laughed, his hands massaging her fat ass, squeezing the jiggly flesh, his fingers digging in, making her cheeks ripple. Her ass was plump, a perfect curve, and he kneaded it like dough, his eyes hungry, her dress bunched at her waist.



Manoj - “This ass, Rekha—so fucking fat. Bet it’s starving for cock.”

Mom - “Manoj, please… don’t talk like that. It’s wrong, filthy!”

Manoj - “Shut up bitch! Your ass is a fucking feast. Why hasn’t Amit fucked this asshole?”

Mom - “Stop! Amit’s my husband—he respects me. Let me go, please!”

Manoj - “He is an idiot, he doesn't respect you at all. If he did, he would've fucked your asshole. He’s missing out—this ass was made to be fucked.”

He parted her asscheeks, spreading them wide, her pink asshole winking, still slightly red from the butt plug. A musky scent hit him, earthy and raw, and he inhaled deeply, his face twisting with lust.

Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, that smell—your asshole’s begging for my tongue.”

Mom - “No, Manoj! Stop it—Amit could come home any minute! Please don't ruin my marriage”

Manoj - “What’s that smell of your asshole, slut? Your ass is ripe, like it’s been waiting.”

Mom - “What smell? I… I don’t know what you mean!”

Manoj - “Don’t play dumb. When I spread your cheeks, your asshole let out that dirty scent—pure slut.”

Mom - “I don’t know! Please, Manoj, stop this—it’s disgusting!”

He buried his face between her asscheeks, his nose and mouth disappearing into the crevice, his head almost swallowed by her plump flesh. Mom gasped, her body tensing, her boobs heaving under the dress.



Mom - “Manoj, no! Don’t do that—it’s wrong, filthy! Stop putting your face there please”

Manoj - “Why not? Your asshole’s perfect—tastes like sin.”

Mom - “Please, it’s… shameful! Sanjay’s nearby, Amit’s coming!”

Manoj - “I’m gonna eat this ass till you scream, slut.”

He kept his face buried, his head vanishing between her cheeks, his tongue flicking out, lapping at her asshole. I watched, my stomach churning—it was disgusting, his face in her private place, the musky smell he’d mentioned making it worse. 

Why would he do that? It seemed vile, like he was smelling and sucking her in the worst way, and yet Mom wasn’t fighting hard enough, her pleas weak.


I saw his tongue press against her asshole, a wet, deliberate lick, and I gagged, sickness rising. It was beyond wrong—her holy body, Dad’s prize, reduced to this. Manoj pulled back, his lips glistening, and pointed to the bed.


Manoj - “Climb on the bed, Rekha. Bend over—ass up.”

Mom - “Manoj, no… please, I’m begging you. Amit could walk in! Why you not listening?”

Manoj - “Get on the fucking bed, slut. I’m not asking.”

She climbed onto the bed, her dress still bunched, and bent over, her fat ass raised. Manoj positioned himself behind her, his pants down, his cock hard, but he couldn’t reach her asshole properly. He growled, frustrated.


Manoj - “Spread your asscheeks, Rekha—open that hole for me.”

Mom - “No, Manoj! I won’t… it’s too much, please!”

He slapped her buttocks, a loud crack, her cheeks jiggling wildly, and she yelped, obeying, her hands spreading her asscheeks, her asshole exposed. His cock nudged closer, now aligned, and he noticed small hairs near her asshole, fine and dark.



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Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, these little hairs—makes your asshole look even dirtier.”

Mom - “Manoj, that’s disgusting! Stop saying such things!”

Manoj - “It’s fucking hot—your slutty hole’s all natural.”

He leaned in, sucking her asshole, his lips sealing around it, his tongue probing, a wet slurping sound filling the room. Mom whimpered, her body trembling.

Mom - “Manoj, please… stop sucking there. It’s… wrong, shameful!”

Manoj - “Wrong? Your asshole’s dripping for me, slut—tastes like you love it.”

Mom - “No, I don’t! I’m begging you, stop this!”

He pulled back, wiping his mouth, and grabbed her shoulders, turning her to face him. Her eyes darted to the window, checking for Dad’s car, her face pale with fear. She was afraid if dad might came so that is why she was worried looking over the window.

Manoj - “Looking for Amit? He won’t save you—suck my cock, now.”

Mom - “Manoj, no… I can’t. Please, anything but this!”

Manoj - “Anything? Then get on your knees, slut—suck it.”

Mom - “I’m begging you… Amit’s coming, Sanjay’s here!”

Manoj - “Fuck them. Open your mouth, or I’ll make you.”

He grabbed her head, forcing her down, her knees hitting the floor. His cock pressed against her lips, and she resisted, but he pushed harder, her mouth opening, his shaft sliding in. She gagged, her eyes watering, as he thrust, his hands gripping her hair.

Manoj - “That’s it, Rekha—suck that cock like the whore you are.”

Mom - “Mmmph… Manoj, please… I’ll do anything, but don’t… don’t fuck my ass.”

Manoj - “Don’t fuck your ass? You are even using the word "fuck", huh? You’re begging for it, slut—look at you, choking on my dick.”

Mom - “No… I’m not… I hate this…”

Manoj - “Your mouth’s working my cock like a pro—fucking pathetic.”

I watched, my hand moving to my pants, gripping my dick, rubbing it for the first time seeing my own mother with another man. I cursed myself, shame flooding me, but a dark thrill kept me going—her holy body corrupted, her lips around his cock. 

I loved how Manoj talked to her, his filthy words—“slut,” “whore”—ringing true. Shalini was right: all women were the same, Mom included, her bare pussy and ass proving it. 

She deserved those words, her inner slut exposed, just as Shalini had said.

Manoj pulled out, his cock slick, and yanked her up, his voice harsh.'

Manoj - “Bend over again, Rekha—ass up, now.”

Mom - “No, Manoj! Please, I can’t… Amit will see, Sanjay’s here!”

She turned, her fat ass shaking, the cheeks quivering as she pleaded, her hands waving, her eyes darting to the door, then the window. She tried to pull her dress down, to step away, but Manoj grabbed her hips.

Mom - “Manoj, I’ll… I’ll do something else—please, not my ass!”

Manoj - “Shut up and spread your asscheeks, slut!”

She obeyed, her hands trembling, spreading her cheeks, her asshole winking. She looked like a real slut, her pose obscene, her fat ass offered up. I didn’t want to think it, but she was a whore, ready to be fucked, Shalini’s words burning in my mind. 

Manoj pushed forcefully, his cock’s tip entering her asshole, stretched from the butt plug. Mom shouted, her voice raw.

Mom - “AAHH! MANOJ, STOP!”

Manoj - “What’s wrong, slut? Too big for your tight ass?”

Mom - “IT HURTS! PLEASE, STOP!”

She moved away, her body shaking, and Manoj growled, frustrated.

Manoj - “Get back here, Rekha—don’t fucking run.”

Mom - “I… I’ll get some oil… it’ll help, but please, be gentle.”

Manoj - “Oil? Hurry the fuck up, slut.”

She stumbled to the shelf, grabbing Dad’s massage oil, her hands shaking. She poured it onto Manoj’s cock, rubbing it in, her fingers slick, and I froze, shocked—Mom was doing this herself, no force. 

Shalini was right; she was a slut, her actions betraying her holy claims.

Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, oiling my cock? You’re a dirty whore, aren’t you?”

Mom - “No… I’m just… worried it’ll hurt. I don’t want this, Manoj.”

Manoj - “You’re prepping my dick like a pro—fucking slut.”

She applied oil to her anus, her finger circling, then set the bottle on the table and climbed onto the bed, bending over like a rehearsal, spreading her asscheeks. I was stunned—Mom was doing this willingly, her slutty nature undeniable.





Mom - “Manoj, please… just… don’t hurt me. I have never done anal sex please be gentle.”

Manoj - “Shut up bitch! Spread your asscheeks wider, slut—let’s do this.”

She spread her cheeks, and Manoj pushed again, his cock’s tip entering her asshole. Mom shouted, her voice piercing.

Mom - “AAHH! MANOJ, IT’S TOO MUCH! Ooh noo plea....ple...please.. aooooh noo oooohhhhh”

Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, relax—your ass is tight as hell.”

Mom - “PLEASE, SLOW DOWN! Aaahhhh ooooooooooohhh aaaaaaaaaahhhh no Manoj! Manoj! Wait wait wait ooooooooooohhh ooohh aaahh no no Manoj manoj oooooohhhh”

She squirmed, her hands gripping the sheets, her body tensing, but she didn’t move away, enduring the pain. Her legs trembled, her boobs swayed, her face twisted, but she stayed, her asshole clenching around the tip. She whimpered, trying to adjust, her breaths ragged.

Mom - “Manoj… it hurts… please, go slow… gosh! ooohh Manoj oooohhh aahhhiii aahiiii aaiiiii nahi nahi ooohhh”

Manoj - “Alright, Rekha, easy now. Just breathe, let me in.”

Mom - “It’s… too big… I can’t…”

Manoj - “You can, Rekha. Your ass is perfect—let’s make this work.”


His tone softened, avoiding insults, coaxing her gently as he pushed, the tip lodged in her asshole, her body struggling but holding firm, caught between pain and surrender.


To be continued.............


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