Incest Mom tricked by Bully (Mask of Desire)

[Steel]

Madhuri, in her late 30s, felt a flush of embarrassment, noticing she was older than the other women there, all younger and polished. Unbeknownst to her, every salesman's eyes lingered on her, drawn to her allure.

Madhuri hesitated, her cheeks warming. “These are… a bit much,” she murmured, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of excitement.

Ishaan picked out a few dresses.

Ishaan : “Come, try these, Aunty,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “They’ll look stunning on you.”

He smirked, leading her to the changing rooms. The worker there, a stern-looking man, eyed Ishaan suspiciously as he removed the tags from the dresses. “Only one person per room,” he said gruffly, his gaze lingering on them.

Ishaan nodded, his smile unbothered. “No problem,” he replied smoothly, gesturing Madhuri to step inside and followed her until the aisle.

Ishaan lounged on a chair, his eyes glinting as he handed Madhuri the first dress, an emerald sequined crochet slip dress with an asymmetrical hem that shimmered under the fluorescent light. “Try this one, Aunty,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Let’s see how it looks.”

Madhuri smirked, snatching the dress and locking the door with a click. The attendant outside shot Ishaan a wary glance, as if expecting trouble.

Moments later, the lock clicked again, and Madhuri stepped out, the dress clinging to her curves. Ishaan’s gaze roamed over her, a slow grin spreading. “Can you step forward,” she hesitated, then extended her leg, the high slit parting to expose the thick thigh. “Like this?” she asked, her tone playful but nervous.

Ishaan : “Damn, Aunty, you’re starving me already. Uncle’s gonna have a feast tonight.” She let out a chuckle.

He handed her the next dress, a weird looking brown dress. As she took it, Abhi’s voice pierced the air from outside. 

Abhi : “Ma, you in there? I’m done shopping, from the men’s section!” he insisted.

Madhuri froze, “Just wait, Abhi!” she called, her voice strained. “I’m changing!” She shot Ishaan an awkward look, her cheeks flushing, and shut the door to slip into the new dress.

She wore it and peered into the mirror, it looked like an ordinary sheath dress. Turning to the side mirrors, she was stunned to see a sleek, form-fitting gown with detailed triangular cut-outs woven along her sides.

When she opened the door, the cut-outs hugged her curves, exposing the sides of her breasts, waist along her legs in a daring display. She stood hesitantly, meeting Ishaan’s eyes.

“Turn around,” he said, his tone commanding yet teasing. “Let me see it all.”

Smirking, Madhuri twirled, the dress accentuating every curve, her bare skin flashing through the laced gaps.

Abhi’s voice rang out again, impatient. “Mom, these bags are heavy!”

Madhuri : “Just a few more minutes, sweetie!” she shouted, exasperated. Turning to Ishaan, she muttered, “Can you give him your chair?”

Ishaan chuckled, leaning back. 

Ishaan : “I’m polite to all the ladies out there, Aunty, but these little boys? They can wait.” He winked, his voice dripping with suggestion. “I’d get up anytime for a woman who wants to… sit. You get me?”

Madhuri’s throat tightened, catching his double entendre. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said quickly, brushing it off, and grabbed the final dress, a long-sleeve mesh corset mini dress.

She locked the door, changed, and stepped out, her cheeks burning. The tight fabric hugged her, her breasts straining against the mesh, the hem riding high above her knees, outlining her ass. She tugged at it, flustered, trying to pull it lower.



Ishaan’s eyes gleamed. “This is too cute, Aunty. But Uncle doesn’t deserve this much.”

She laughed, a nervous edge to it. “Which one’s your favorite?”

He tilted his head, smirking. “All three look killer, but honestly, I’d like you best in nothing at all.”

Madhuri’s face flushed, and she looked away. “Ishaan, that’s no way to talk to your aunt,” she scolded softly.

“Sorry, just being honest,” he said, his grin unapologetic. “It’s how I am.”

She shook her head, waving it off. “Alright, let’s go. Abhi’s waiting.” As she turned to change, Ishaan stopped her, holding out a saree. “Wait. This one’s for your cousin’s wedding. You almost forgot.”