Adultery Whispers of Lust: My Mom's Forbidden Path

[Rajeev Gupta]

Mom stepped out of the bathroom, her naked body slick with water, droplets clinging to her skin like liquid diamonds, her big boobs swaying gently, nipples hardened by the chill, her fat ass trembling with each step.

Her hair hung in wet, tangled clumps, dripping onto her shoulders, water streaming down her spine, pooling on the floor, her face pale with shame, eyes flickering to Dad, asleep on the bare mattress, his blanket tucked tightly, his soft snores a fragile barrier against the truth. 

The bedroom stank of piss, cum, brown paste, and sweat, a sour, acrid fog that clung to the walls, the bare mattress stained with Mom’s juices and the cum-paste slurry, a silent testament to her defilement. 

Manoj followed mom, his face looked satisfied because he just fucked the most beautiful mom in the world, his body also wet, his cock semi-hard, gleaming with water and faint traces of paste, his eyes devouring Mom’s curves, a sly grin curling his lips. 

Mom stood, her boobs heaving with each breath, her gaze darting to Dad in fear, her heart hammering, terrified he’d stir and see her naked with her lover, her wet skin a canvas of her sin.

Mom spoke, her voice urgent, trembling with distress, urging Manoj to leave, her hands clasped, water mixing with sweat on her skin.

Mom: Manoj, you have to leave now, before Amit wakes up. I can’t let this ruin my family, don’t make me a woman who loses everything. I’m begging you, just go.

Manoj: Leave, Rekha? Your body’s a fucking treasure, I can’t get enough of those curves, you naughty minx. Why rush me out when you’re still dripping for me?

Mom: I’m serious, Manoj, no one can know about this affair, it’ll destroy me. My kids and Amit can’t suffer because of this shame. Please, swear you’ll keep it secret.

Manoj dressed, pulling on his shirt and pants, his eyes tracing Mom’s wet form, his voice a taunting mix of disrespect and desire, issuing an ultimatum with a leer.

Manoj: Secret, huh? I’ll keep my mouth shut if I can keep tasting you and your tight holes, Rekha, you tempting vixen. Your body’s too perfect to abandon, darling.

Mom: No, Manoj, I can’t keep doing this, it’s tearing me apart. Don’t force me to be someone who betrays her husband forever. Please, let this be the end.

Manoj: End it? Your skin’s begging for my touch, you wicked beauty. Not only that, your holes are craving for my dick. I have to fuck you each time I want, or I’ll spill everything to Amit, sweetheart. You’re too good to let go.

Mom: I’m begging you, Manoj, don’t make me carry this sin any longer. My family’s all I have, I can’t let you shatter it. Please, find another woman, I can’t do this.

Manoj: Another woman? Nobody matches your fire, Rekha, you sultry siren. Agree to more, or your husband knows it all, darling. I’m dead serious.

Mom argued, her voice breaking, but she relented, her eyes fixed on Dad, fear tightening her chest, as she nodded, her boobs trembling, water dripping from her hair onto the floor.

Mom: Fine, Manoj, I’ll see you, but only to keep this hidden. Don’t push me to hate myself more, I’m not that kind of woman. Please, keep your promise and tell no one.

Manoj: That’s my girl, Rekha, my tempting prize. You’ll crave me again, sweetheart. Now give me a kiss, you naughty thing, before I head out.

Mom: A kiss, Manoj? I can’t, not with Amit right there, he can wake up, it’s too much. Please, don’t make me do more, I’m already falling apart.

Manoj: Kiss me, you gorgeous creature, or I’ll wake him up, darling. Make it deep, Rekha, show me you’re still mine, you wild temptress.

Mom kissed him passionately, her lips pressing hard against his, her hands cradling his head, fingers weaving through his wet hair, her tongue dancing with his, the faint taste of her asshole’s paste lingering from their bath. 


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Her boobs pressed against his chest, her wet body slick, but she pushed him away, her hands shaking, her face ashen, as she spoke, her voice desperate.

Mom: Don’t destroy my marriage, Manoj, I’m begging you. I gave you the kiss, but I can’t keep hurting Amit. Please, leave and don’t break my family.

Manoj: Destroy? Your body’s screaming for me, you fiery vixen. I’ll have you again, Rekha, and you’ll melt for it, my queen.

Mom: Just go, Manoj, and make sure Sanjay doesn’t see you. I can’t let my son find out, it’d crush him. Please, slip out quietly, I’m begging you.

I bolted to the sitting room, my pulse racing, pretending I hadn’t seen, my dick limp, dried cum crusting my hand, a shameful mark of my arousal at Mom’s degradation. 

The sitting room was dim, a worn couch sagging beneath a crooked family portrait, the air heavy, faintly tainted by the bedroom’s stench. Manoj entered, his clothes rumpled, his grin sharp, spotting me slouched on the couch, my face a mask of innocence, my eyes wide, feigning ignorance.

Me: Manoj, why’re you here so late? I was just… hanging out, didn’t see anything. You visiting Mom for something?

Manoj: Hanging out, Sanjay? Did you catch me with your mom, kid? Don’t play dumb, I know you’re curious, my boy.

Me: Catch you? Nah, I’ve been down here the whole time, I swear. What’re you talking about, Manoj? What’d you do with Mom?

Manoj: You saw something, didn’t you, Sanjay? Come on, fess up, kid. Was it fun to watch, you little sneak? Did you enjoy me giving your mom a "massage"?

Me: Okay, yeah, I saw… the massage, but I don’t get what was happening. I’m just a kid, I was confused. What were you and Mom doing, Manoj? Tell me!

Manoj: Grown-up games, Sanjay, too big for you to understand. Your mom and I had a good time and a good massage. She just wanted a massage, that’s all, kid. Don’t stress about it, alright?

Manoj strode away, his steps bold, his shadow stretching across the floor, vanishing down the hall, leaving me alone, my heart pounding, my innocence a facade to mask my complicity. 

I climbed the stairs, my sneakers squeaking, and entered the bedroom, where Mom stood in a sexy red dress, the fabric hugging her curves like a second skin, the plunging neckline showcasing her cleavage, the short hem riding high on her thighs, accentuating her fat ass, the material clinging tightly, outlining her fat asscheeks and swollen pussy, a vision of forbidden allure. 



Manoj was lucky, his cock having ravaged my mom's holes, her body a whore’s masterpiece, her dress a cruel contrast to her pious past. She sprayed air freshener, a floral mist fighting the room’s stench of piss, cum, and paste, desperate to erase the evidence of her affair, her hands trembling, her eyes flicking to Dad, still asleep under the blanket.

I spoke, my voice curious, playing naive, as she turned, her boobs straining against the dress, her face pale, lips pursed.

Me: Mom, why’re you spraying air freshener? The room smells funky, like… something gross. And why’s Dad already asleep?

Mom: Sanjay, don’t come in, I’m cleaning the room, it’s a mess. Dad’s exhausted, he crashed early, that’s all. Go downstairs, I need to finish this, okay?

Me: Alright, Mom, I’ll go, but it’s weird to clean so late. Dad’s okay, right? You sure everything’s cool?

Mom: Everything’s fine, Sanjay, just let me take care of this. Dad needs sleep, and I need to freshen the room. Please, wait in the sitting room, I’ll be down soon.

I walked away, smiling, my anger at Mom’s cheating was gone, replaced by a twisted support for her affair with Manoj. The rage I’d felt, watching her asshole stretched, her face defiling Dad, had dissolved into admiration for her boldness, her sluttiness a secret I now protected, my heart siding with her betrayal.

My arousal a quiet cheer for her and Manoj’s forbidden passion. I wanted her to keep fucking him, to revel in her filth, my loyalty to Dad waning, my excitement for her sin a dark, pulsing thrill, my smile a mask for my allegiance, my love for Mom now tied to her whorish defiance. 

Supporting her felt right, a rebellion against Dad’s oblivious trust, her affair a fire I longed to see burn, my complicity a secret bond with her, my thoughts consumed by her daring, my heart no longer torn but wholly hers, cheering her descent into Manoj’s arms.

The next morning, Dad woke for a meeting, his eyes bleary, his memory wiped clean, the drugs erasing the night’s horrors—his vomit-soaked face, Manoj’s piss, Mom’s cum-shitting. 

He forgot it all, his confusion clear as he shuffled to the mirror, his face pale, unaware of the desecration, his stupidity infuriating me. I thought Dad was so stupid, his faith in Mom absolute, his small dick and quick fucks no match for Manoj’s relentless cock, his ignorance a pathetic shield against her betrayal. 

Mom helped him tie his tie, her fingers nimble, her red dress replaced by a modest blue saree, the silk dbanging her curves softly, her boobs and ass still enticing beneath the folds, her face a mask of wifely devotion, her eyes warm, concealing the whore within.

They spoke, their conversation tender, Mom playing the perfect wife, her voice gentle, her lies flawless, as I watched, marveling at her deception, thinking what a liar she was, her sanctity a veil for her cum-filled asshole.

Mom: Amit, your tie’s perfect now, you look so sharp, my love. You’ll nail that meeting, I know it. Want some coffee before you head out?

Dad: Thanks, Rekha, you always make me feel ready. I’m still fuzzy, rough night, I guess. You’re sure everything’s alright?

Mom: Everything’s perfect, Amit, just focus on your day, you’re all set. I’ll have dinner waiting when you’re back, darling. You’re my rock, go shine.

Dad: Fuzzy… yeah, must be work stress. Love you, Rekha, you’re the best. I’ll see you tonight, okay?

Mom: Love you too, Amit, always. Get to that meeting, you’ll be amazing. I’ll be here, keeping our home just right for you.

Mom’s performance was seamless, her smile radiant, her hands soft, as she adjusted his tie, her saree a disguise for her sin, her heart a deceiver’s vault, her asshole’s looseness hidden, her affair with Manoj a secret I now cherished, my thoughts a mix of contempt for Dad’s naivety and awe at Mom’s cunning, her whorish truth a flame I couldn’t quench.