21-12-2025, 04:48 PM
(This post was last modified: 20-04-2026, 07:52 PM by Lousy1995. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Our new house was a proper upper-class beast — a spacious 4BHK with two massive bedrooms downstairs (Mom and Dad’s master plus the guest room), and two upstairs (mine and Britto’s empty one). There was a huge hall, a separate dining area, a modern kitchen, a service room for laundry, and a wide veranda wrapping around the front. Every bedroom had its own attached bathroom with shiny marble and expensive fixtures. In the one month we had lived here, I had explored every inch like a horny ninja. Thanks to my athletic, flexible body from years of sports, I had discovered sneaky ways to slip into or peek through almost any room without a key — loose vents, high windows I could climb, and even a perfect gap in the veranda railing that gave angled views into the downstairs rooms if I crouched just right. I told myself it was only curiosity about the new place, but my inner pervert knew the real reason.
After Mom disappeared into her room — her juicy 38-inch ass jiggling under that thin nighty with nothing underneath — I drank some cold water from the kitchen tap, trying to calm the throb in my cock. I dropped onto the living room sofa, picked up the newspaper, and pretended to read the headlines while my mind kept replaying those hot pics of the chubby MILF from Instagram getting mentally destroyed.
A few minutes later, the master bedroom door opened again. Mom stepped out, freshly bathed and looking like a walking wet dream wrapped in a saree. Her long black hair was twisted into a neat braided bun, still dripping water that ran down her neck like teasing fingers. She had dbangd herself in a plain blue georgette saree. The sheer, light fabric clung to her damp skin, perfectly outlining every curve of her 36C-28-38 body. The short-sleeve blouse had a deep U-neck with thin golden zari borders and fancy piping on the sleeves — elegant yet slutty at the same time. The wet pallu stuck slightly to her heavy tits, making the outline of her bra faintly visible. Droplets from her hair slid down her collarbone and vanished into the deep, sweaty valley of her cleavage.
Fuck, she looked incredibly hot — milfy, conservative, and radiating pure sex appeal. My cock surged upward without warning, thickening fast and straining against my shorts like it had a mind of its own.
She walked straight toward me, hips swaying naturally, the soft georgette swishing with every step. In her sweet voice she asked, “Tea or coffee, da?”
“Coffee,” I mumbled, my eyes locked on the tiny sliver of smooth, fair hip flesh showing where her saree sat low on her waist — right above the petticoat knot. That bare skin looked so soft and inviting, begging to be licked and kissed.
We chatted about random things — the weather, my internship, Dad’s latest trip — but I could barely focus. All I could see was that teasing strip of hip, the way the saree hugged her round ass when she turned, and the dirty fantasy of yanking the entire saree off and burying my face between those soft, juicy cheeks.
She headed to the kitchen to make the coffee. By then I was rock-hard again. My thick 8-inch cock throbbed painfully in my shorts, precum already soaking through my boxers.
[img]![[Image: story-1.png]](https://i.ibb.co/VWbFLB0k/story-1.png)
[/img]
After Mom disappeared into her room — her juicy 38-inch ass jiggling under that thin nighty with nothing underneath — I drank some cold water from the kitchen tap, trying to calm the throb in my cock. I dropped onto the living room sofa, picked up the newspaper, and pretended to read the headlines while my mind kept replaying those hot pics of the chubby MILF from Instagram getting mentally destroyed.
A few minutes later, the master bedroom door opened again. Mom stepped out, freshly bathed and looking like a walking wet dream wrapped in a saree. Her long black hair was twisted into a neat braided bun, still dripping water that ran down her neck like teasing fingers. She had dbangd herself in a plain blue georgette saree. The sheer, light fabric clung to her damp skin, perfectly outlining every curve of her 36C-28-38 body. The short-sleeve blouse had a deep U-neck with thin golden zari borders and fancy piping on the sleeves — elegant yet slutty at the same time. The wet pallu stuck slightly to her heavy tits, making the outline of her bra faintly visible. Droplets from her hair slid down her collarbone and vanished into the deep, sweaty valley of her cleavage.
Fuck, she looked incredibly hot — milfy, conservative, and radiating pure sex appeal. My cock surged upward without warning, thickening fast and straining against my shorts like it had a mind of its own.
She walked straight toward me, hips swaying naturally, the soft georgette swishing with every step. In her sweet voice she asked, “Tea or coffee, da?”
“Coffee,” I mumbled, my eyes locked on the tiny sliver of smooth, fair hip flesh showing where her saree sat low on her waist — right above the petticoat knot. That bare skin looked so soft and inviting, begging to be licked and kissed.
We chatted about random things — the weather, my internship, Dad’s latest trip — but I could barely focus. All I could see was that teasing strip of hip, the way the saree hugged her round ass when she turned, and the dirty fantasy of yanking the entire saree off and burying my face between those soft, juicy cheeks.
She headed to the kitchen to make the coffee. By then I was rock-hard again. My thick 8-inch cock throbbed painfully in my shorts, precum already soaking through my boxers.
[img]
[/img]![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)