Incest Mom tricked by Bully (Mask of Desire)

[Steel]

Ishaan hopped onto the bed, his knees sinking into the mattress as he approached, his eyes locked on hers. He positioned himself between her spread legs, his cock grazing her pussy lips, his fingers rubbing her clit with deliberate slowness.

Madhuri’s mind fractured, guilt and ecstasy warring within her. She reached for his scarf, desperate to unmask him, but Ishaan caught her left wrist, the designer the right. 

Ishaan’s other hand clamped around her throat over the collar, squeezing just enough to make her gasp. With a slow, deliberate thrust, he pushed into her pussy, filling her completely.

Madhuri’s head tilted back, a moan escaping as her body surrendered, taking both cocks like a whore, her shame drowned by the overwhelming sensation. Her eyelids fluttered, struggling to stay open as pleasure consumed her.

Ishaan guided her trembling hand with his hand to his scarf, letting her tug it free. The fabric fell, revealing his grinning face. Her eyes widened, her voice a choked scream. “ISHAANNN?!”

He grabbed the rose on the bedside table, clamping it between his teeth with a evil grin on his face.



Leaning in, he kissed her, his lips hot and demanding, transferring the rose to her mouth. Her teeth bit into the stem, the petals brushing her lips as he pulled back.

“I love you, aunty,” he purred, “Feel my love,” his hand tightening around her throat, his other hand grabbing her breast as he thrust deeper into her pussy.

Madhuri’s grunted moan vibrated through the rose, her eyes rolling back as both men found a relentless rhythm, fucking her like bulls shaking the bed. 

Her fingers dug into the pillow, nails clawing at the fabric, her breaths hot and ragged. Her face flushed crimson, her mind grappling with the truth, Ishaan, her son’s friend, also the stalker who’d orchestrated her descent.

Their thrusts were merciless, each one pushing her further into submission. Her body arched, caught between their bodies, her glory holes stretched and pulsing with pleasure she couldn’t deny.

Abhi’s voice broke through the haze, his tone a mix of feigned shock and desperation. “Ishaan, is that you!? You arrogant douchebag!” he shouted, “Leave my mom alone!” his bound hands twitching, his eyes betraying a flicker of something more than pain, desire, perhaps, poorly concealed by his act.