Incest Mom tricked by Bully (Mask of Desire)

[Steel]

Madhuri's face burned, her heart sinking under the weight of her son's stare. "Ishaan… please…" she whispered, but her voice lacked conviction, drowned by the pleasure rippling through her.

Ishaan's head tilted to face Abhi, his lips curling into a wicked grin. "Closer, dumbass. I want your face just an inch away from her pussy, and from my cock."

Madhuri's body twitched, a strange, unfamiliar thrill sparking deep within her. "No, Ishaan… don't…" she protested, but a quiet voice in the back of her mind whispered, “It's okay.”

She shook her head, trying to silence it, but the thought lingered, dangerous and intoxicating.

Abhi's face flushed red as he slowly leaned forward. His breath hitching as he brought his face closer, so close he could smell the musky heat of her, his own sweet mom. Her heart raced, torn between shame and a dark curiosity she couldn't name.

"Abhi, don't look... ahhh... please," Madhuri begged, her voice breaking as she fought the wave of sensations, pleasure, humiliation, and that strange, forbidden excitement building inside her.

Ishaan's eyes gleamed. "Don't listen to her. Now stick out your tongue."

Madhuri's breath caught, her eyes widening. "What are you… ahh… talking about, Ishaan?" she snapped, but the secret thrill surged, her body betraying her with another involuntary twitch.

"Don't worry, aunty," Ishaan said, his voice dripping with mockery. "He deserves this." He fixed Abhi with a stare. "Go ahead."

Abhi's voice was barely a whisper. "Sorry, Mom." He stuck out his tongue, his eyes locked on the rhythmic thrusts of Ishaan's cock, an inch from his mother's pussy. His hot breath grazed her skin, each exhale sending a shiver through her.

"Ahhh..." Madhuri moaned, louder now, the sensation of her son's breath against her most intimate place igniting something primal, something she couldn't reconcile.

Ishaan paced up, and her hips followed uncontrollably, matching Ishaan's speed, her body acting on instinct.

Abhi's drool dripped onto the couch, some of it slicking Ishaan's shaft as it plunged into her. A treacherous part of her mind imagined Abhi leaning just a fraction closer, his tongue brushing her clit, and the thought sent a jolt through her.

Ishaan's thrusts grew harder, and Madhuri's control slipped. Her hips shifted forward, and for a fleeting moment, her pussy grazed Abhi's outstretched tongue. The contact was electric, a spark that sent her knees buckling, her legs trembling as a powerful orgasm ripped through her. She gasped, pulling back instinctively, her body collapsing onto the couch, helpless and shaking.

Abhi froze, his pants forming a visible wet spot, the brief taste of her clit along with Ishaan's shaft on his tongue, a thrill he never knew he had.