16-06-2026, 01:52 PM
(This post was last modified: 16-06-2026, 01:53 PM by Hotguy143. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Title : Online cuckold son - 5
My cock was fully hard now, aching against my pants and crushing itself against the steel pole every once in a while. I hated it. I hated how my respectable mom was letting this low-class bastard use her fat ass like a cheap whore in public. But I couldn't stop staring. The college boys had pushed nearer too. One of them, tall and skinny with a cigarette pack in his pocket, openly stared at Mom's jiggling tits.
"Fuck man, look at those melons bouncing," he muttered just loud enough for me to hear. "That aunty's blouse is about to tear." His friend laughed low. "Her kundi is getting a proper massage from that guy. See how she's standing with legs slightly apart? Vedi aanu, da. (She's a slut, man.)"
Mom heard them. Her cheeks flushed dark red, but she only bit her lower lip and shifted her weight. That small movement pushed her huge ass back firmer into the labourer's crotch. He took full advantage, giving a slow, deliberate thrust, humping her properly now, his lungi-covered cock sliding up and down the entire length of her crack. I could see the wet patch forming on her white saree where his precum was leaking through.
The bus took a sharp turn. Everyone swayed hard. The bastard used it perfectly. He grabbed my mom's fleshy hip with one hand and ground his thick bulge right against her pussy from behind, pressing the saree deep between her thighs. For a second her eyes fluttered shut and a tiny, helpless whimper escaped her soft lips.
I was close enough now to smell her. That coconut oil, sweat, and gulf perfume now mixed with pure steamy arousal. Her pallu had slipped just a little at the side, revealing one inch of her creamy waist and the deep, sweaty navel she never let any other man see.
The labourer noticed me watching again. This time he didn't grin. He just stared straight into my eyes, slowly dragged his bulge out of her asscrack, and then deliberately pushed it back in deeper, folding the saree into her crack so the shape of her fat ass was completely outlined for anyone looking, all while staring straight at me.
Mom was sweating profusely. Her thighs pressed together. She was breathing through her mouth now, those innocent Nair aunty lips parted, a thin sheen of sweat on her upper lip.
The college boys were whispering filthier things.
"Imagine sucking on those black nipples..."
"Bet her pussy is dripping down her thighs already..."
"Bro, is that her son standing there?"
My own cock was leaking in my pants. I wanted to drag her away. I wanted to punch that dark bastard. But mostly I wanted to keep watching what would happen when the next big bump came.
The bus groaned forward again, engine rumbling as it picked up speed on the highway. The crowd surged with the motion, smashing everyone tighter together. I was now only one sweaty body away from Mom, close enough to see the droplets of sweat sliding down her neck and disappearing into the deep cleavage.
The dark labourer had both hands on her now. One dark, thick, calloused palm stayed planted on her milky waist, fingers digging into the white flesh while his thumb kept circling the edge of her hidden navel through the thin saree. His other hand "slipped" lower, openly cupping the lower swell of her massive ass cheek like he was steadying himself. He squeezed. Hard. The white fabric sank deep between her cheeks under his grip.
Mom's breath hitched. Her soft, innocent lips stayed parted as he rolled his fat, lungi-covered cockhead up and down her crack in long, deliberate strokes. The wet patch on her saree had grown darker, spreading. Whether it was his precum or hers, I couldn't tell anymore. Probably both.
She didn't remove his hand. She just stood there, respectable face burning with shame, breathing heavier while this low-class bastard used her fat ass like it was his personal fucktoy. I hated it all.
"Ente ponnu mone..." one of the college boys whispered behind me, voice thick with lust. "Avalude blouse-il ninnu nipples kanunnu. Parich edukan kollam." (Her nipples are visible through the blouse. Looks like we can just pluck them.)
Another one chuckled. "That dark fucker is lucky. I'd pay to grind on that big white ass for five minutes." Their words made my cock throb painfully hard. I was leaking steadily now, a wet spot forming in my own pants. I hated how turned on I was watching my own mother get humiliated in public.
Story to be continue .
Tg : @hydguy1
Gmail : hydhotguy31
My cock was fully hard now, aching against my pants and crushing itself against the steel pole every once in a while. I hated it. I hated how my respectable mom was letting this low-class bastard use her fat ass like a cheap whore in public. But I couldn't stop staring. The college boys had pushed nearer too. One of them, tall and skinny with a cigarette pack in his pocket, openly stared at Mom's jiggling tits.
"Fuck man, look at those melons bouncing," he muttered just loud enough for me to hear. "That aunty's blouse is about to tear." His friend laughed low. "Her kundi is getting a proper massage from that guy. See how she's standing with legs slightly apart? Vedi aanu, da. (She's a slut, man.)"
Mom heard them. Her cheeks flushed dark red, but she only bit her lower lip and shifted her weight. That small movement pushed her huge ass back firmer into the labourer's crotch. He took full advantage, giving a slow, deliberate thrust, humping her properly now, his lungi-covered cock sliding up and down the entire length of her crack. I could see the wet patch forming on her white saree where his precum was leaking through.
The bus took a sharp turn. Everyone swayed hard. The bastard used it perfectly. He grabbed my mom's fleshy hip with one hand and ground his thick bulge right against her pussy from behind, pressing the saree deep between her thighs. For a second her eyes fluttered shut and a tiny, helpless whimper escaped her soft lips.
I was close enough now to smell her. That coconut oil, sweat, and gulf perfume now mixed with pure steamy arousal. Her pallu had slipped just a little at the side, revealing one inch of her creamy waist and the deep, sweaty navel she never let any other man see.
The labourer noticed me watching again. This time he didn't grin. He just stared straight into my eyes, slowly dragged his bulge out of her asscrack, and then deliberately pushed it back in deeper, folding the saree into her crack so the shape of her fat ass was completely outlined for anyone looking, all while staring straight at me.
Mom was sweating profusely. Her thighs pressed together. She was breathing through her mouth now, those innocent Nair aunty lips parted, a thin sheen of sweat on her upper lip.
The college boys were whispering filthier things.
"Imagine sucking on those black nipples..."
"Bet her pussy is dripping down her thighs already..."
"Bro, is that her son standing there?"
My own cock was leaking in my pants. I wanted to drag her away. I wanted to punch that dark bastard. But mostly I wanted to keep watching what would happen when the next big bump came.
The bus groaned forward again, engine rumbling as it picked up speed on the highway. The crowd surged with the motion, smashing everyone tighter together. I was now only one sweaty body away from Mom, close enough to see the droplets of sweat sliding down her neck and disappearing into the deep cleavage.
The dark labourer had both hands on her now. One dark, thick, calloused palm stayed planted on her milky waist, fingers digging into the white flesh while his thumb kept circling the edge of her hidden navel through the thin saree. His other hand "slipped" lower, openly cupping the lower swell of her massive ass cheek like he was steadying himself. He squeezed. Hard. The white fabric sank deep between her cheeks under his grip.
Mom's breath hitched. Her soft, innocent lips stayed parted as he rolled his fat, lungi-covered cockhead up and down her crack in long, deliberate strokes. The wet patch on her saree had grown darker, spreading. Whether it was his precum or hers, I couldn't tell anymore. Probably both.
She didn't remove his hand. She just stood there, respectable face burning with shame, breathing heavier while this low-class bastard used her fat ass like it was his personal fucktoy. I hated it all.
"Ente ponnu mone..." one of the college boys whispered behind me, voice thick with lust. "Avalude blouse-il ninnu nipples kanunnu. Parich edukan kollam." (Her nipples are visible through the blouse. Looks like we can just pluck them.)
Another one chuckled. "That dark fucker is lucky. I'd pay to grind on that big white ass for five minutes." Their words made my cock throb painfully hard. I was leaking steadily now, a wet spot forming in my own pants. I hated how turned on I was watching my own mother get humiliated in public.
Story to be continue .
Tg : @hydguy1
Gmail : hydhotguy31
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