Incest Mom tricked by Bully (Mask of Desire)

[Steel]

Madhuri’s heart shattered with it, the sound a death knell for her secrets. She looked at Abhi, who met her gaze with a mix of shock and desire, his eyes narrowing as if he’d recalled every detail of their illicit encounter, the memories she’d tried to erase now flooding back.

The guys pulled out, their cocks slick as they let her collapse onto the bed, her body trembling, her breath ragged. Ishaan smirked, and strode to Abhi, uncuffing his wrists with a flourish. “I think it's time to join the fun, dickhead, now that you recall what a whore your mom is,” he said, dragging Abhi to the bed where Madhuri lay, her bra and panties askew, her body a map of their conquest.

Abhi stumbled forward, his shorts still tented, his expression caught between horror and hunger. Madhuri’s eyes met his, pleading for forgiveness, every erased memory now a ghost in the room.

The designer leaned against the wall, his tattoos glistening, watching with a predatory calm. Ishaan loomed over Madhuri, his voice a taunting whisper. “I'm sorry aunty, this one's not on me. You should have hid that thing somewhere safe. Your boy knows who you are now. Also, Mr. Sharma. Haha”

Madhuri’s heart sank as everything unraveled, unaware that Ishaan had orchestrated it all. Humiliation consumed her, no secrets left to shield her. As Abhi approached her bed, she clutched the sheets to cover herself, stammering, “Sweetie, I can explain…”

Abhi, summoning his courage, sat on the edge of the mattress. “No need, mom,” he said, his voice steady. “I… I liked how you touched me that night, stroking me while you sat on my face.”

Madhuri’s cheeks flushed, her shame laid bare, her son’s desire igniting something within her. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Madhuri whispered, her voice trembling with despair.

Ishaan smirked. “Why not.. you know, do it again? Right now.”

“What!?” Madhuri exclaimed, her voice heavy with regret. “No way.”

“Please, Mom,” Abhi urged, his gaze locked on hers, leaving her momentarily speechless.

The designer, slipping back into his clothes, chimed in with a sly grin. “Come on, Ma’am, what’s the holdup? Don’t you love your own son? Go for it.”

“Stop it!” Madhuri snapped at him, then turned to Abhi, her voice trembling. “Abhi, what happened the other night was a mistake. I’m so sorry.” Her head bowed, shame weighing her down.