Incest Mom tricked by Bully (Mask of Desire)

[Steel]

Madhuri sighed, taking the saree. “Right, the wedding.” She changed quickly, dbanging the fabric over her curves, and stepped out and Ishaan beckoned her closer. 

Ishaan : “Come out, let me check the fit.” He circled her, as she stepped in the aisle, his fingers brushing the fabric lightly, ensuring it hugged her well, his gaze intense but subtle.

Ishaaan : “Perfect,” he murmured, as Madhuri’s heart raced, the weight of Abhi’s impatience lingering just outside.

Ishaan : “But it needs a few tweaks, let me fix it,” he said, adjusting her saree with deft hands. His fingers grazed the edge of her blouse, slipping slightly inside and brushing her breasts.

She stifled a gasp as the worker glanced over, visibly startled.

Noting the blouse needed loosening, he tugged it down slightly, then smoothed the saree thin over her hips, accentuating her navel.

He turned her to face the mirror, showing off her beauty, and hooked his thumbs into her waistband, pulling it lower to display her V-line.

Pretending to adjust the fabric, he deliberately brushed his fingers across the stubble above her pussy through the thin saree.

Madhuri gasped, whispering, “Ishaan, wait..” she whispered, but her body arched towards him, craving more. The shopkeeper, a middle-aged man, glanced over, momentarily stunned by their intimacy, but said nothing.

Abhi : “Hurry up, Ma,” he barked, his voice laced with irritation.

She broke free from his embrace, slipped into the changing room, and locked the door to switch back to her churidar and both stepped out.

Ishaan passed another bag containing three new dresses and a black saree to Abhi, forcing him to carry since they were occupied.