17-04-2025, 02:03 AM
Adultery Whispers of Lust: My Mom's Forbidden Path
Showing only the posts of Rajeev Gupta: 57 of 209 posts. Show all posts
17-04-2025, 02:49 AM
The whispers of Manoj's sexual tantrums were truly work.
The room was a blur of heat and noise, the air thick with sweat and something I couldn’t name.
I was still crouched by the door, my eye glued to the keyhole, my heart pounding like it wanted to escape.
Mom—Rekha—was on her hands and knees, her fat ass up, jiggling with every thrust as Manoj fucked her doggystyle.
Up until now, my innocent mind was giving me this uncomfortable instinct that Manoj was doing a sin with my mom.
Her big boobs swung beneath her, nipples hard, and her pussy was slick, swallowing his thick, veined cock.
Her moans were louder now, raw and rhythmic, like her body was betraying her heart.
I didn’t understand why she sounded like she liked it, but it made my stomach twist. Why is she liking it? And why are they naked?
Mom - “Aashh! Oohhh! Aaahhh! Manoj… it’s too much…”
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, hear you moaning like a slut! Your pussy’s loving my cock—gonna fuck you harder!”
Mom - “Ahhhh! Uuhhh! No, Manoj… please, not so hard… I can’t…oooh you are so...so....so...rough!”
Manoj - “Can’t? You’re screaming for it, bitch! Take my dick deep—fuck, you’re wet!”
Her screams filled the room, high and desperate, as Manoj gripped her hips and slammed into her, his cock plunging deeper, relentless.
I slightly shifted my innocent mind to tell myself maybe Manoj was giving something pleasurable to my mom because why was she looking happy but hiding it from Manoj?
But I worried—why was Mom screaming like that, like she was enjoying it? Her face was flushed, lips parted, eyes half-closed, and it scared me.
Why did this Manoj enter into my mom's master bedroom because I never saw any other man inside that room with mom other than my dad.
She was starting to get shameless, her moans unguarded, her ass bouncing back against him like she couldn’t stop.
Manoj fucked her hard, his thrusts brutal, each one making her pussy stretch and her body shudder.
Her boobs slapped together, her thighs quivered, and her hair fell wild over her face.
Five things stood out as he pounded her:
1 - Her ass rippled like waves, each thrust sending a jiggle through her plump cheeks, the skin red from his slaps.
2 - Her pussy dripped, a steady trickle down her thighs, glistening in the lamplight, making wet, sloppy sounds.
3 - Her hands clawed the sheets, knuckles white, like she was holding on to keep from losing herself completely.
4 - Her back arched, pushing her ass higher, her body moving with him, like it craved more despite her pleas.
5 - Her moans turned into gasps, sharp and needy, her breath hitching every time his cock hit deep, a sound I couldn’t unhear.
Manoj’s eyes dropped lower, locking onto her asshole, tight and puckered between her jiggling cheeks. He grinned, nasty and hungry.
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, your asshole’s winking at me. So tight—bet it’s begging for my cock, you slut.”
Mom - “Aashh! No, Manoj—don’t touch there! It’s… it’s not for that, please.”
Manoj - “Not for that? Bullshit, bitch. That hole’s screaming for me—gonna make it mine.”
Mom - “Oohhh! Manoj, I’m serious—don’t! It’s… it’s wrong, it hurts just thinking about it.”
His hand moved, his thumb brushing her asshole, rubbing slow circles.
Her body tensed, a small gasp escaping as he pressed harder, teasing the rim. Then he spat on his thumb, a thick glob, and without warning, shoved it in forcefully, past the tight ring.
Her ass clenched, her whole body jerking.
Mom - “Ahhhh! Manoj, stop! It hurts—it’s too much! Ohhhh oooooohhaa!"
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, your asshole’s gripping my thumb—relax, slut, you’ll love it.”
Mom - “Uuhhh! No, please… it’s burning… I can’t…”
Manoj - “Shut up, bitch. It’s in—feel that? Gonna fuck this hole next.”
A a young kid watching this confusing scenario, I asked myself whqt kind of massage is this?
Because Manoj told me was going to give mom a massage.
Her shout softened, her body easing as his thumb settled inside, moving in slow, deliberate twists.
He pushed his thumb finger deeper in her asshole, then pulled back, circling the rim before sliding in again, stretching her asshole with each motion.
Her ass jiggled around his hand, her pussy still taking his cock, and her moans mixed with whimpers, pain and pleasure tangled together.
I was freaking out—Mom was screaming, but it sounded like pleasure, not just pain. Why was she letting this happen?
I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood, my small fist banging on the door, my voice shaky but loud.
Me - “Mom! Mom, are you okay? What’s happening?”
Mom - “Aashh! Sanjay… oh no… I’m… I’m fine, baby…”
Manoj - “Relax, Rekha—he’s just a kid. He won’t know you’re getting fucked like a whore.”
Mom - “Manoj, please… I need to talk to him. He’s scared…”
Her face was shocked, eyes wide as she looked toward the door, her ass still bouncing from Manoj’s thrusts.
I saw it through the keyhole—her panic, her shame. Manoj kept fucking her, his thumb still in her asshole, but she turned slightly, pleading with him.
Manoj - “Fucking hell, Rekha, you’re in the middle of my cock—let the kid wait.”
Mom - “Oohhh! No, Manoj—he’s my son. Let me… let me just talk to him, please.”
Manoj - “Fine, slut—go, but make it quick. My dick’s not done with your pussy. Iwant to fuck you all night”
Mom - “Aaahhh! Thank you… I’ll be fast… Sanjay needs me. Now remove your finger my my backhole & let me go”
I kept knocking, harder now, my voice cracking with worry.
Me - “Mom, open the door! Please, I’m scared!”
Mom - “I’m coming, Sanjay… just… just wait a second, baby…”
Through the keyhole, I saw her grab a towel, yanking it off the bed and holding it to her front, covering her boobs and pussy but leaving her fat ass bare.
She was sweating, her skin glistening, her hair damp and wild. Her big boobs pressed against the towel, nipples poking through, and her curves were so sexy it confused me—a kid seeing his mom like that, all raw and flushed.
She stumbled to the door, her legs shaky from Manoj’s fucking. I knew this wasn't my normal mom.
She cracked the door open, just enough to show her face and the towel, her eyes wide with fear and guilt.
Mom - “Sanjay, baby, why are you awake? It’s so late…”
Me - “I heard noises, Mom. Why aren’t you wearing clothes? What’s going on? And you are sweaty”
Mom - “Oh… I… I’m okay, baby. I was just… it’s nothing, really…”
Me - “I saw you and Manoj through the keyhole, Mom. Why’s he not wearing clothes either?”
Mom - “You… you were watching? Sanjay, oh no… from the keyhole? I told you to sleep. Yu should stop peeping in our room”
Me - “Yeah, but mom. I saw everything. What’s happening? You looked like you were telling Manoj to stop doing something"
Her face went pale, her hand gripping the towel tighter. She glanced back, like she was checking for Manoj, then forced a shaky smile.
Mom - “Sanjay, go back to bed, okay? It’s… it’s grown-up stuff. You don’t need to worry.”
Me - “But why’re you both naked, Mom? And why were you screaming?”
Mom - “It’s… we were playing a game, baby. A silly adult game, that’s all.”
Me - “What game, Mom? It didn’t look like a game. You were loud. Manoj told me that he will give you massage, not game of sweating "
Mom - “Yes Very true I… I screamed because… it’s part of the game, Sanjay. Like when you shout playing tag and it is type of massage. Now go, please.”
I frowned, not buying it. Then I saw her flinch, her eyes darting back again, and her body jerked slightly, like something was pushing her.
Manoj was behind her—I couldn’t see him through the half-closed door, but I knew.
He’d probably shoved his cock back into her pussy, fucking her while she talked to me despite me not seeing inside the bedroom.
Her face twisted, a moan slipping out as she tried to act normal.
Mom - “Aashh! Sanjay… listen, baby… you’re my good boy, okay?”
Me - “Mom, why’re you moaning like that? And what’s that thumping noise?”
Mom - “Oohhh! It’s… it’s nothing, baby… just… just the game, I told you…”
Me - “You’re moving back and forth, Mom. Is Manoj doing something?”
Mom - “Aaahhh! No, Sanjay… I’m just… I’m fine, really. Please, go back to bed…”
Her moans were louder now, her body rocking, the thumping steady—his cock slamming into her, I knew it, even if I couldn’t see him.
Her eyes fluttered, fighting to focus on me, but pleasure was creeping in, making her shameless again.
Manoj was actually fucking her pussy while she talk to me.
I wanted to believe her, but my kid brain wasn’t that dumb—I knew Manoj was fucking her, making her move like that.
Me - “Mom, can I come in? I wanna see what’s going on!”
Mom - “No! Sanjay, no… you can’t… it’s not for kids. Please, go away…”
Me - “But Mom, I’m worried! Let me in! What kind of massage is Manoj giving you?"
Mom - “Aashh! Sanjay, listen—you’re my good boy. Go back to bed, okay? I’ll… I’ll see you soon.”
She pushed me gently, her hand shaking, and I stepped back, nodding, pretending to agree.
She called me a good boy again, her voice cracking with a moan, then shut the door.
I waited a second, then crept back to the keyhole—only to find it blocked, a towel stuffed in the keyhole where I was watching.
Mm probably did that to prevent me from continuing to watch. This made my mind suspect my mom's intentions.
What is my mom hiding from me?
My heart sank, but I wasn’t giving up. I tiptoed outside, to the window, and peered through a crack in the curtains.
There they were, the two love birds, Manoj fucking Mom doggystyle on the bed again, her ass bouncing, his cock deep in her pussy, her moans filling the air.
Mom - “Aaahhh! Manoj, that was so risky! Fucking me while I talked to Sanjay… he could’ve known!”
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, who cares? Kid’s grown enough—he knows you’re a cheating slut now.”
Mom - “Oohhh! No, he doesn’t… he’s my baby… I’m not that, Manoj… aashh! My pussy"
Manoj - “Bullshit, bitch. You’re moaning like a whore—your pussy’s mine, and he saw it.”
Mom - “Uuhhh! I’m… I’m not yours… I’m just… ohhh, it’s too much…”
Her moans were unstoppable, her body rocking with pleasure as Manoj fucked her hard, his hands slapping her ass, her pussy dripping.
She was lost in it, shameless, and I watched, my world crumbling, knowing Mom was sinning, caught in something she couldn’t escape.
The room was a blur of heat and noise, the air thick with sweat and something I couldn’t name.
I was still crouched by the door, my eye glued to the keyhole, my heart pounding like it wanted to escape.
Mom—Rekha—was on her hands and knees, her fat ass up, jiggling with every thrust as Manoj fucked her doggystyle.
Up until now, my innocent mind was giving me this uncomfortable instinct that Manoj was doing a sin with my mom.
Her big boobs swung beneath her, nipples hard, and her pussy was slick, swallowing his thick, veined cock.
Her moans were louder now, raw and rhythmic, like her body was betraying her heart.
I didn’t understand why she sounded like she liked it, but it made my stomach twist. Why is she liking it? And why are they naked?
Mom - “Aashh! Oohhh! Aaahhh! Manoj… it’s too much…”
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, hear you moaning like a slut! Your pussy’s loving my cock—gonna fuck you harder!”
Mom - “Ahhhh! Uuhhh! No, Manoj… please, not so hard… I can’t…oooh you are so...so....so...rough!”
Manoj - “Can’t? You’re screaming for it, bitch! Take my dick deep—fuck, you’re wet!”
Her screams filled the room, high and desperate, as Manoj gripped her hips and slammed into her, his cock plunging deeper, relentless.
I slightly shifted my innocent mind to tell myself maybe Manoj was giving something pleasurable to my mom because why was she looking happy but hiding it from Manoj?
But I worried—why was Mom screaming like that, like she was enjoying it? Her face was flushed, lips parted, eyes half-closed, and it scared me.
Why did this Manoj enter into my mom's master bedroom because I never saw any other man inside that room with mom other than my dad.
She was starting to get shameless, her moans unguarded, her ass bouncing back against him like she couldn’t stop.
Manoj fucked her hard, his thrusts brutal, each one making her pussy stretch and her body shudder.
Her boobs slapped together, her thighs quivered, and her hair fell wild over her face.
Five things stood out as he pounded her:
1 - Her ass rippled like waves, each thrust sending a jiggle through her plump cheeks, the skin red from his slaps.
2 - Her pussy dripped, a steady trickle down her thighs, glistening in the lamplight, making wet, sloppy sounds.
3 - Her hands clawed the sheets, knuckles white, like she was holding on to keep from losing herself completely.
4 - Her back arched, pushing her ass higher, her body moving with him, like it craved more despite her pleas.
5 - Her moans turned into gasps, sharp and needy, her breath hitching every time his cock hit deep, a sound I couldn’t unhear.
Manoj’s eyes dropped lower, locking onto her asshole, tight and puckered between her jiggling cheeks. He grinned, nasty and hungry.
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, your asshole’s winking at me. So tight—bet it’s begging for my cock, you slut.”
Mom - “Aashh! No, Manoj—don’t touch there! It’s… it’s not for that, please.”
Manoj - “Not for that? Bullshit, bitch. That hole’s screaming for me—gonna make it mine.”
Mom - “Oohhh! Manoj, I’m serious—don’t! It’s… it’s wrong, it hurts just thinking about it.”
His hand moved, his thumb brushing her asshole, rubbing slow circles.
Her body tensed, a small gasp escaping as he pressed harder, teasing the rim. Then he spat on his thumb, a thick glob, and without warning, shoved it in forcefully, past the tight ring.
Her ass clenched, her whole body jerking.
Mom - “Ahhhh! Manoj, stop! It hurts—it’s too much! Ohhhh oooooohhaa!"
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, your asshole’s gripping my thumb—relax, slut, you’ll love it.”
Mom - “Uuhhh! No, please… it’s burning… I can’t…”
Manoj - “Shut up, bitch. It’s in—feel that? Gonna fuck this hole next.”
A a young kid watching this confusing scenario, I asked myself whqt kind of massage is this?
Because Manoj told me was going to give mom a massage.
Her shout softened, her body easing as his thumb settled inside, moving in slow, deliberate twists.
He pushed his thumb finger deeper in her asshole, then pulled back, circling the rim before sliding in again, stretching her asshole with each motion.
Her ass jiggled around his hand, her pussy still taking his cock, and her moans mixed with whimpers, pain and pleasure tangled together.
I was freaking out—Mom was screaming, but it sounded like pleasure, not just pain. Why was she letting this happen?
I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood, my small fist banging on the door, my voice shaky but loud.
Me - “Mom! Mom, are you okay? What’s happening?”
Mom - “Aashh! Sanjay… oh no… I’m… I’m fine, baby…”
Manoj - “Relax, Rekha—he’s just a kid. He won’t know you’re getting fucked like a whore.”
Mom - “Manoj, please… I need to talk to him. He’s scared…”
Her face was shocked, eyes wide as she looked toward the door, her ass still bouncing from Manoj’s thrusts.
I saw it through the keyhole—her panic, her shame. Manoj kept fucking her, his thumb still in her asshole, but she turned slightly, pleading with him.
Manoj - “Fucking hell, Rekha, you’re in the middle of my cock—let the kid wait.”
Mom - “Oohhh! No, Manoj—he’s my son. Let me… let me just talk to him, please.”
Manoj - “Fine, slut—go, but make it quick. My dick’s not done with your pussy. Iwant to fuck you all night”
Mom - “Aaahhh! Thank you… I’ll be fast… Sanjay needs me. Now remove your finger my my backhole & let me go”
I kept knocking, harder now, my voice cracking with worry.
Me - “Mom, open the door! Please, I’m scared!”
Mom - “I’m coming, Sanjay… just… just wait a second, baby…”
Through the keyhole, I saw her grab a towel, yanking it off the bed and holding it to her front, covering her boobs and pussy but leaving her fat ass bare.
She was sweating, her skin glistening, her hair damp and wild. Her big boobs pressed against the towel, nipples poking through, and her curves were so sexy it confused me—a kid seeing his mom like that, all raw and flushed.
She stumbled to the door, her legs shaky from Manoj’s fucking. I knew this wasn't my normal mom.
She cracked the door open, just enough to show her face and the towel, her eyes wide with fear and guilt.
Mom - “Sanjay, baby, why are you awake? It’s so late…”
Me - “I heard noises, Mom. Why aren’t you wearing clothes? What’s going on? And you are sweaty”
Mom - “Oh… I… I’m okay, baby. I was just… it’s nothing, really…”
Me - “I saw you and Manoj through the keyhole, Mom. Why’s he not wearing clothes either?”
Mom - “You… you were watching? Sanjay, oh no… from the keyhole? I told you to sleep. Yu should stop peeping in our room”
Me - “Yeah, but mom. I saw everything. What’s happening? You looked like you were telling Manoj to stop doing something"
Her face went pale, her hand gripping the towel tighter. She glanced back, like she was checking for Manoj, then forced a shaky smile.
Mom - “Sanjay, go back to bed, okay? It’s… it’s grown-up stuff. You don’t need to worry.”
Me - “But why’re you both naked, Mom? And why were you screaming?”
Mom - “It’s… we were playing a game, baby. A silly adult game, that’s all.”
Me - “What game, Mom? It didn’t look like a game. You were loud. Manoj told me that he will give you massage, not game of sweating "
Mom - “Yes Very true I… I screamed because… it’s part of the game, Sanjay. Like when you shout playing tag and it is type of massage. Now go, please.”
I frowned, not buying it. Then I saw her flinch, her eyes darting back again, and her body jerked slightly, like something was pushing her.
Manoj was behind her—I couldn’t see him through the half-closed door, but I knew.
He’d probably shoved his cock back into her pussy, fucking her while she talked to me despite me not seeing inside the bedroom.
Her face twisted, a moan slipping out as she tried to act normal.
Mom - “Aashh! Sanjay… listen, baby… you’re my good boy, okay?”
Me - “Mom, why’re you moaning like that? And what’s that thumping noise?”
Mom - “Oohhh! It’s… it’s nothing, baby… just… just the game, I told you…”
Me - “You’re moving back and forth, Mom. Is Manoj doing something?”
Mom - “Aaahhh! No, Sanjay… I’m just… I’m fine, really. Please, go back to bed…”
Her moans were louder now, her body rocking, the thumping steady—his cock slamming into her, I knew it, even if I couldn’t see him.
Her eyes fluttered, fighting to focus on me, but pleasure was creeping in, making her shameless again.
Manoj was actually fucking her pussy while she talk to me.
I wanted to believe her, but my kid brain wasn’t that dumb—I knew Manoj was fucking her, making her move like that.
Me - “Mom, can I come in? I wanna see what’s going on!”
Mom - “No! Sanjay, no… you can’t… it’s not for kids. Please, go away…”
Me - “But Mom, I’m worried! Let me in! What kind of massage is Manoj giving you?"
Mom - “Aashh! Sanjay, listen—you’re my good boy. Go back to bed, okay? I’ll… I’ll see you soon.”
She pushed me gently, her hand shaking, and I stepped back, nodding, pretending to agree.
She called me a good boy again, her voice cracking with a moan, then shut the door.
I waited a second, then crept back to the keyhole—only to find it blocked, a towel stuffed in the keyhole where I was watching.
Mm probably did that to prevent me from continuing to watch. This made my mind suspect my mom's intentions.
What is my mom hiding from me?
My heart sank, but I wasn’t giving up. I tiptoed outside, to the window, and peered through a crack in the curtains.
There they were, the two love birds, Manoj fucking Mom doggystyle on the bed again, her ass bouncing, his cock deep in her pussy, her moans filling the air.
Mom - “Aaahhh! Manoj, that was so risky! Fucking me while I talked to Sanjay… he could’ve known!”
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, who cares? Kid’s grown enough—he knows you’re a cheating slut now.”
Mom - “Oohhh! No, he doesn’t… he’s my baby… I’m not that, Manoj… aashh! My pussy"
Manoj - “Bullshit, bitch. You’re moaning like a whore—your pussy’s mine, and he saw it.”
Mom - “Uuhhh! I’m… I’m not yours… I’m just… ohhh, it’s too much…”
Her moans were unstoppable, her body rocking with pleasure as Manoj fucked her hard, his hands slapping her ass, her pussy dripping.
She was lost in it, shameless, and I watched, my world crumbling, knowing Mom was sinning, caught in something she couldn’t escape.
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/images/bootbb/collapse_collapsed.png)
18-04-2025, 03:00 PM
Thanks for your feedback guys. One thing about my mom that you guys should know is that she easily falls into suggestions of other people i.e Shalini.
Story continues...
The room was a suffocating mix of sweat, moans, and the relentless thump of flesh.
I crouched by the window now, having moved from the blocked keyhole, my eye pressed to a crack in the curtains.
Mom—Rekha—was on her hands and knees, her fat ass shaking like a storm with every brutal thrust from Manoj’s cock in her pussy.
Her big boobs swung wildly, nipples hard, and her pussy was dripping, releasing juices that coated her thighs, glistening in the dim light.
Manoj fucked her hard, his thick, veined cock slamming deep, making her body quiver and her moans spill out, raw and needy.
Mom - “Aashh! Oohhh! Aaahhh! Manoj… it’s too much…”
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, your pussy’s gushing juices! You’re loving this cock, you slut!”
Mom - “No, Manoj… I’m not… it’s just… my body… I don’t want this! I have never done this filthy"
Manoj - “Bullshit, bitch—your juices say you’re a whore for my dick. Keep taking it!”
Her denial was weak, her voice trembling as her ass kept shaking, each thump sending ripples through her plump cheeks. I watched, my heart pounding, horrified by how her pussy leaked like she was enjoying it.
Manoj’s eyes dropped lower, fixating on her tight asshole, a small, puckered ring between her jiggling cheeks.
His stare was dark, hungry, and I knew he was thinking of something more sinister—something worse than what he was already doing.
My innocent mind knew what an asshole was; I’d heard kids at college whisper it was where people shit from. Why would
Manoj want that hole? It was disgusting, unthinkable, and the idea made my stomach churn, my young brain reeling with shock.
Wasn’t her pussy enough?
Manoj - “Rekha, your asshole’s so fucking tight. I’m gonna fuck it—gonna rip that hole open with my cock.”
Mom - “No! Manoj, please, not anal sex! I’m begging you—don’t touch there, it’s wrong!”
Manoj - “Wrong? I’m a pervert, Rekha—I need to fuck your asshole. Saw that big booty at Shalini’s party, shaking in that tight dress, and I’ve been dreaming of this hole ever since.”
Mom - “Please, Manoj, no! I can’t… it’s too much… anything but that!”
Her voice was pure panic, her eyes wide with fear. She’d always been religious—praying every morning, keeping our home pure.
Anal sex was never in her world, a sin she’d never even imagined, let alone endured. Manoj’s obsession with her ass, sparked at that party where Shalini made her wear that revealing dress, was a violation she couldn’t fathom.
I was shocked, asking myself why he’d want something so gross, so forbidden. It felt like he was trying to break her completely, to take even her dignity.
Manoj pulled his cock from her pussy with a wet pop, the slick shaft glistening with her juices. Her ass stopped shaking for a moment, her body tensing.
Manoj - “Spread your buttcheeks, Rekha. Show me that asshole—time to fuck it.”
Mom - “No, Manoj! I won’t… I can’t do that… please, don’t make me!”
She scrambled away, fear driving her. Her hands clutched the sheets, pulling them over her ass like a shield.
She curled her legs under, trying to hide her asshole, her boobs pressed against the bed as she whimpered, shaking her head.
Her eyes darted to the door, like she was thinking of running, but Manoj’s glare pinned her in place.
Manoj - “Get back here, you fucking slut! Turn to doggystyle and spread your cheeks, or I’ll force you!”
Mom - “Manoj, please… I’m scared… don’t do this… I’ll do anything else…”
I wondered—was this the “massage” Manoj had lied about? He’d told me he was helping Mom relax, but this was no relaxation. It was a nightmare, and Mom was trapped.
Slowly, her shoulders slumped, and she turned back to doggystyle, her hands trembling as she reached back and spread her buttcheeks.
Her asshole was small, pink, and tight, quivering slightly as she exposed it. My breath caught—it was cute, in a strange way, but so wrong for this.
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, that asshole’s perfect—tight and ready for my cock.”
Mom - “No, Manoj… it’s not ready… please, don’t touch it… I’m begging…”
Manoj ignored her, dipping his fingers into her pussy, scooping her juices and smearing them over her asshole, lubricating it with slick, warm fluid.
Her religious heart must’ve screamed—anal sex was a line she’d never crossed, a taboo her faith condemned.
But her body betrayed her, the juices making her asshole glisten, inviting Manoj’s perversion. I fully understood now—Mom was doing something wrong, sinning against Dad, against us, even if she was forced. Manoj’s voice dripped with shame.
Manoj - “Look at this, Rekha—your pussy juices making your asshole shine. It’s fucking beautiful, you slut.”
Mom - “Stop, Manoj… don’t say that… it’s not beautiful… it’s shameful…”
Manoj - “Shameful? Your asshole’s a work of art, bitch—gonna fuck it till you scream.”
I nodded, confused but agreeing with Manoj—her asshole was cute, small, and perfect, but the thought of him using it made me sick.
It was so wrong, so dirty. Manoj positioned himself, his massive cock—thick, veined, still wet from her pussy—pressing against her asshole.
He readied her, rubbing the tip around the rim, teasing the tight ring.
Manoj - “Here we go, Rekha. My cock’s going in your asshole—relax, or it’ll hurt more.”
Mom - “UUUHH! AAAHH! Manoj, no! It’s too big… it won’t fit!”
Manoj - “Shut the fuck up, slut! Stop shouting and take my dick!”
Mom - “AAAHH! It’s uncomfortable… it hurts so much… please, stop!”
Manoj - “I don’t give a shit, Rekha—your asshole’s mine. Push back, you whore!”
She shouted, her voice raw, as he pushed harder, the tip stretching her asshole painfully.
She tried to avoid it—clenching her cheeks, shifting her hips forward, even reaching back to push his cock away with trembling fingers.
But Manoj was relentless, his hands gripping her hips, forcing her still. I agreed with Mom—his dick was too big, impossible for that tiny hole. It couldn’t fit, not without tearing her apart.
The struggle was brutal. Her asshole resisted, the tight ring refusing to open, but Manoj kept pushing, his cockhead pressing harder, stretching her inch by inch.
Her screams were deafening, her body shaking, sweat dripping down her back. She kicked her legs slightly, trying to crawl away, but Manoj yanked her back, his grip like iron.
Creatively, she grabbed a pillow, shoving it under her hips to lift her ass higher, hoping it’d make him slip out, but it only gave him better access.
Manoj - “You fucking bitch, stop fighting! Spread your cheeks and let my cock in!”
Mom - “AAAHH! UUUHH! I can’t, Manoj! It’s tearing me… please, no!”
Manoj - “Take it, you whore! Your asshole’s opening—fuck, it’s tight!”
Mom - “AAAHH! NO! It hurts… I can’t do this… stop!”
Finally, with a sickening pop, the cockhead entered her asshole, her scream piercing the air. Her body froze, trembling, but she jumped forward instinctively, her ass clenching, forcing his dick out.
Manoj roared, his face red with anger, his cock throbbing in the air.
Manoj - “Goddamn it, Rekha! You fucking ruined it! Relax, you stupid slut!”
Mom - “I’m sorry, Manoj… AAAHH! It hurt so much… please, give me a moment…”
Manoj - “A moment? You’re pissing me off, bitch! Get back in doggystyle—now!”
Mom - “Please, Manoj… just a second… I can’t… it’s too much…”
I was in shock, my heart racing. I wanted to stop Manoj, to call Dad, to do anything, but I didn’t.
Why? I was scared—scared of Manoj’s anger, scared of what Dad would think, scared of breaking Mom’s secret.
I was just a kid, frozen by fear and confusion, my love for her tangled with disgust. Manoj stood, storming to her, grabbing her hair while she was still facing him.
He looked into her eyes, his face inches from hers, and kissed her forcefully, his lips smashing against hers, his tongue invading her mouth.
Manoj - “You’re mine, Rekha—every fucking hole. Turn around, or I’ll make you.”
Mom - “Manoj, please… don’t… I need time… it hurts…”
He didn’t listen, swiftly spinning her to doggystyle, her fat ass jiggling as she landed on her knees.
Her cheeks bounced, her pussy still dripping, her asshole red from the earlier attempt. She begged, her voice cracking.
Mom - “Manoj, I’m begging… don’t do this… it’s too painful…”
Manoj - “Shut up, slut. Adjust—push your ass up, relax your hole. I’m fucking it now.”
Mom - “Please… I can’t… it’s wrong… I’m scared…”
She obeyed, lifting her ass higher, her hands spreading her cheeks again, her asshole quivering.
Manoj lined up his cock, pushing slowly this time, the tip pressing against her lubricated hole. She endured, her body trembling, her breath ragged.
The cockhead entered again, stretching her asshole with a slow, agonizing burn.
Mom - “AAAHH! UUUHH! MANOJ, IT HURTS! PLEASE, NO!”
Manoj - “Don’t fucking move, you whore! Stay still, or I’ll rip your asshole apart!”
Mom - “AAAHH! I’m trying… it’s too big… I can’t…”
I moved to another window, desperate to see better, my eye pressed to a different crack.
I felt guilty, knowing I was doing bad manners, eagerly watching Mom turn into a slut, but I couldn’t stop.
Manoj’s cock was pushing into her asshole, the tight ring stretching painfully around the head, then an inch more.
She shouted, her screams raw, because the pain was unbearable—her asshole wasn’t meant for this, too small, too tight for his massive dick. Manoj guided her, his voice harsh.
Manoj - “Push back, Rekha—open your asshole. Take my cock, you slut.”
Mom - “UUUHH! AAAHH! I can’t… it’s burning… please, stop!”
Manoj - “Keep going, bitch—your hole’s taking it. Fuck, it’s tight.”
Mom - “AAAHH! Manoj, it’s too much… I’m trying… it hurts!”
It wasn’t working—her asshole clenched, resisting, and Manoj’s patience snapped. He pulled out in anger, his cock springing free, and threw Mom to the side, her body hitting the bed with a thud. She gasped, curling up, her ass still jiggling.
Manoj - “You’re a fucking useless slut, Rekha! Can’t even take my dick in your asshole!”
Mom - “I’m sorry, Manoj… it’s too painful… I tried… please, don’t be mad…”
Manoj stormed to his suitcase, rummaging through it. He pulled out a small, shiny object, tapered at one end, with a flared base. My eyes widened—what was that?
Manoj - “This, Rekha, is an anal plug. Gonna stretch your asshole so you’re ready for my cock next time.”
Mom - “An… anal plug? What… what is it? I don’t understand…”
Manoj - “It’s a toy, you dumb slut. Goes in your asshole, stays there, opens you up. Now lie on your stomach.”
Mom - “Okay, Manoj… but… will it hurt? I’m scared…”
She agreed, lying on her stomach, her hands parting her asscheeks again. Her asshole was red, still slick with her juices. Manoj pushed the plug against it, the tip slipping in easily but the wider part stretching her.
She gasped, her body tensing, her legs kicking slightly as she tried to adjust. The struggle was intense—her asshole resisted, clenching, but Manoj twisted it, pushing harder until it popped in, fully locked, the base snug against her cheeks.
Mom - “AAAHH! Manoj, it’s… it’s in! It feels so strange… will it hurt?”
Manoj - “It’s fine, slut. Keeps your asshole ready. Never take it out, got it?”
Mom - “But… what if I need to… to shit? I can’t keep it in forever…”
Manoj - “Take it out then, but put it back after. Your asshole’s mine now.”
Mom - “Okay… I’ll try… it’s so uncomfortable…”
Manoj sat back, stroking his cock, still hard and throbbing. He pointed to it, his grin wicked.
Manoj - “Get over here, Rekha. Suck my cock—I need to cum, and your mouth’s perfect.”
Mom - “Alright, Manoj… I’ll do it… just… no more anal sex, please.”
She crawled to him, her boobs swaying, the plug shifting in her asshole with every move.
She took his cock in her mouth, sucking like a professional slut—her lips tight, her tongue swirling, her head bobbing with a rhythm that shocked me.
Her cheeks hollowed, her eyes half-closed, and she made soft, wet sounds, like she’d done this before. I couldn’t believe it—Mom, my holy mom, sucking like that.
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, you’re a professional slut! Sucking my cock like a porn star—damn!”
Mom - “Mmm… I’m just… doing what you want… I’m not that…”
Manoj - “Not that? You’re a fucking pro, bitch—keep sucking, make me cum.”
She kept going, her mouth working faster, her hands gripping his thighs. His cock twitched, and with a grunt, he came, thick spurts filling her mouth.
She gagged, her eyes watering, and tried to pull back, spit dribbling down her chin.
Manoj - “Swallow it, Rekha! Don’t you dare spit my cum out, you whore!”
Mom - “Mmm… Manoj, I can’t… it’s too much… please…”
Manoj - “Swallow, bitch! Open your mouth after—show me it’s gone.”
She swallowed, her throat bobbing, her face crumpling with disgust. She opened her mouth, tongue out, showing it was empty. Manoj laughed, satisfied, and collapsed onto the bed.
Mom curled up beside him, both naked, the plug still in her asshole, her body slick with sweat. They fell asleep, the room quiet except for their heavy breathing.
Then the next morning..........
Story continues...
The room was a suffocating mix of sweat, moans, and the relentless thump of flesh.
I crouched by the window now, having moved from the blocked keyhole, my eye pressed to a crack in the curtains.
Mom—Rekha—was on her hands and knees, her fat ass shaking like a storm with every brutal thrust from Manoj’s cock in her pussy.
Her big boobs swung wildly, nipples hard, and her pussy was dripping, releasing juices that coated her thighs, glistening in the dim light.
Manoj fucked her hard, his thick, veined cock slamming deep, making her body quiver and her moans spill out, raw and needy.
Mom - “Aashh! Oohhh! Aaahhh! Manoj… it’s too much…”
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, your pussy’s gushing juices! You’re loving this cock, you slut!”
Mom - “No, Manoj… I’m not… it’s just… my body… I don’t want this! I have never done this filthy"
Manoj - “Bullshit, bitch—your juices say you’re a whore for my dick. Keep taking it!”
Her denial was weak, her voice trembling as her ass kept shaking, each thump sending ripples through her plump cheeks. I watched, my heart pounding, horrified by how her pussy leaked like she was enjoying it.
Manoj’s eyes dropped lower, fixating on her tight asshole, a small, puckered ring between her jiggling cheeks.
His stare was dark, hungry, and I knew he was thinking of something more sinister—something worse than what he was already doing.
My innocent mind knew what an asshole was; I’d heard kids at college whisper it was where people shit from. Why would
Manoj want that hole? It was disgusting, unthinkable, and the idea made my stomach churn, my young brain reeling with shock.
Wasn’t her pussy enough?
Manoj - “Rekha, your asshole’s so fucking tight. I’m gonna fuck it—gonna rip that hole open with my cock.”
Mom - “No! Manoj, please, not anal sex! I’m begging you—don’t touch there, it’s wrong!”
Manoj - “Wrong? I’m a pervert, Rekha—I need to fuck your asshole. Saw that big booty at Shalini’s party, shaking in that tight dress, and I’ve been dreaming of this hole ever since.”
Mom - “Please, Manoj, no! I can’t… it’s too much… anything but that!”
Her voice was pure panic, her eyes wide with fear. She’d always been religious—praying every morning, keeping our home pure.
Anal sex was never in her world, a sin she’d never even imagined, let alone endured. Manoj’s obsession with her ass, sparked at that party where Shalini made her wear that revealing dress, was a violation she couldn’t fathom.
I was shocked, asking myself why he’d want something so gross, so forbidden. It felt like he was trying to break her completely, to take even her dignity.
Manoj pulled his cock from her pussy with a wet pop, the slick shaft glistening with her juices. Her ass stopped shaking for a moment, her body tensing.
Manoj - “Spread your buttcheeks, Rekha. Show me that asshole—time to fuck it.”
Mom - “No, Manoj! I won’t… I can’t do that… please, don’t make me!”
She scrambled away, fear driving her. Her hands clutched the sheets, pulling them over her ass like a shield.
She curled her legs under, trying to hide her asshole, her boobs pressed against the bed as she whimpered, shaking her head.
Her eyes darted to the door, like she was thinking of running, but Manoj’s glare pinned her in place.
Manoj - “Get back here, you fucking slut! Turn to doggystyle and spread your cheeks, or I’ll force you!”
Mom - “Manoj, please… I’m scared… don’t do this… I’ll do anything else…”
I wondered—was this the “massage” Manoj had lied about? He’d told me he was helping Mom relax, but this was no relaxation. It was a nightmare, and Mom was trapped.
Slowly, her shoulders slumped, and she turned back to doggystyle, her hands trembling as she reached back and spread her buttcheeks.
Her asshole was small, pink, and tight, quivering slightly as she exposed it. My breath caught—it was cute, in a strange way, but so wrong for this.
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, that asshole’s perfect—tight and ready for my cock.”
Mom - “No, Manoj… it’s not ready… please, don’t touch it… I’m begging…”
Manoj ignored her, dipping his fingers into her pussy, scooping her juices and smearing them over her asshole, lubricating it with slick, warm fluid.
Her religious heart must’ve screamed—anal sex was a line she’d never crossed, a taboo her faith condemned.
But her body betrayed her, the juices making her asshole glisten, inviting Manoj’s perversion. I fully understood now—Mom was doing something wrong, sinning against Dad, against us, even if she was forced. Manoj’s voice dripped with shame.
Manoj - “Look at this, Rekha—your pussy juices making your asshole shine. It’s fucking beautiful, you slut.”
Mom - “Stop, Manoj… don’t say that… it’s not beautiful… it’s shameful…”
Manoj - “Shameful? Your asshole’s a work of art, bitch—gonna fuck it till you scream.”
I nodded, confused but agreeing with Manoj—her asshole was cute, small, and perfect, but the thought of him using it made me sick.
It was so wrong, so dirty. Manoj positioned himself, his massive cock—thick, veined, still wet from her pussy—pressing against her asshole.
He readied her, rubbing the tip around the rim, teasing the tight ring.
Manoj - “Here we go, Rekha. My cock’s going in your asshole—relax, or it’ll hurt more.”
Mom - “UUUHH! AAAHH! Manoj, no! It’s too big… it won’t fit!”
Manoj - “Shut the fuck up, slut! Stop shouting and take my dick!”
Mom - “AAAHH! It’s uncomfortable… it hurts so much… please, stop!”
Manoj - “I don’t give a shit, Rekha—your asshole’s mine. Push back, you whore!”
She shouted, her voice raw, as he pushed harder, the tip stretching her asshole painfully.
She tried to avoid it—clenching her cheeks, shifting her hips forward, even reaching back to push his cock away with trembling fingers.
But Manoj was relentless, his hands gripping her hips, forcing her still. I agreed with Mom—his dick was too big, impossible for that tiny hole. It couldn’t fit, not without tearing her apart.
The struggle was brutal. Her asshole resisted, the tight ring refusing to open, but Manoj kept pushing, his cockhead pressing harder, stretching her inch by inch.
Her screams were deafening, her body shaking, sweat dripping down her back. She kicked her legs slightly, trying to crawl away, but Manoj yanked her back, his grip like iron.
Creatively, she grabbed a pillow, shoving it under her hips to lift her ass higher, hoping it’d make him slip out, but it only gave him better access.
Manoj - “You fucking bitch, stop fighting! Spread your cheeks and let my cock in!”
Mom - “AAAHH! UUUHH! I can’t, Manoj! It’s tearing me… please, no!”
Manoj - “Take it, you whore! Your asshole’s opening—fuck, it’s tight!”
Mom - “AAAHH! NO! It hurts… I can’t do this… stop!”
Finally, with a sickening pop, the cockhead entered her asshole, her scream piercing the air. Her body froze, trembling, but she jumped forward instinctively, her ass clenching, forcing his dick out.
Manoj roared, his face red with anger, his cock throbbing in the air.
Manoj - “Goddamn it, Rekha! You fucking ruined it! Relax, you stupid slut!”
Mom - “I’m sorry, Manoj… AAAHH! It hurt so much… please, give me a moment…”
Manoj - “A moment? You’re pissing me off, bitch! Get back in doggystyle—now!”
Mom - “Please, Manoj… just a second… I can’t… it’s too much…”
I was in shock, my heart racing. I wanted to stop Manoj, to call Dad, to do anything, but I didn’t.
Why? I was scared—scared of Manoj’s anger, scared of what Dad would think, scared of breaking Mom’s secret.
I was just a kid, frozen by fear and confusion, my love for her tangled with disgust. Manoj stood, storming to her, grabbing her hair while she was still facing him.
He looked into her eyes, his face inches from hers, and kissed her forcefully, his lips smashing against hers, his tongue invading her mouth.
Manoj - “You’re mine, Rekha—every fucking hole. Turn around, or I’ll make you.”
Mom - “Manoj, please… don’t… I need time… it hurts…”
He didn’t listen, swiftly spinning her to doggystyle, her fat ass jiggling as she landed on her knees.
Her cheeks bounced, her pussy still dripping, her asshole red from the earlier attempt. She begged, her voice cracking.
Mom - “Manoj, I’m begging… don’t do this… it’s too painful…”
Manoj - “Shut up, slut. Adjust—push your ass up, relax your hole. I’m fucking it now.”
Mom - “Please… I can’t… it’s wrong… I’m scared…”
She obeyed, lifting her ass higher, her hands spreading her cheeks again, her asshole quivering.
Manoj lined up his cock, pushing slowly this time, the tip pressing against her lubricated hole. She endured, her body trembling, her breath ragged.
The cockhead entered again, stretching her asshole with a slow, agonizing burn.
Mom - “AAAHH! UUUHH! MANOJ, IT HURTS! PLEASE, NO!”
Manoj - “Don’t fucking move, you whore! Stay still, or I’ll rip your asshole apart!”
Mom - “AAAHH! I’m trying… it’s too big… I can’t…”
I moved to another window, desperate to see better, my eye pressed to a different crack.
I felt guilty, knowing I was doing bad manners, eagerly watching Mom turn into a slut, but I couldn’t stop.
Manoj’s cock was pushing into her asshole, the tight ring stretching painfully around the head, then an inch more.
She shouted, her screams raw, because the pain was unbearable—her asshole wasn’t meant for this, too small, too tight for his massive dick. Manoj guided her, his voice harsh.
Manoj - “Push back, Rekha—open your asshole. Take my cock, you slut.”
Mom - “UUUHH! AAAHH! I can’t… it’s burning… please, stop!”
Manoj - “Keep going, bitch—your hole’s taking it. Fuck, it’s tight.”
Mom - “AAAHH! Manoj, it’s too much… I’m trying… it hurts!”
It wasn’t working—her asshole clenched, resisting, and Manoj’s patience snapped. He pulled out in anger, his cock springing free, and threw Mom to the side, her body hitting the bed with a thud. She gasped, curling up, her ass still jiggling.
Manoj - “You’re a fucking useless slut, Rekha! Can’t even take my dick in your asshole!”
Mom - “I’m sorry, Manoj… it’s too painful… I tried… please, don’t be mad…”
Manoj stormed to his suitcase, rummaging through it. He pulled out a small, shiny object, tapered at one end, with a flared base. My eyes widened—what was that?
Manoj - “This, Rekha, is an anal plug. Gonna stretch your asshole so you’re ready for my cock next time.”
Mom - “An… anal plug? What… what is it? I don’t understand…”
Manoj - “It’s a toy, you dumb slut. Goes in your asshole, stays there, opens you up. Now lie on your stomach.”
Mom - “Okay, Manoj… but… will it hurt? I’m scared…”
She agreed, lying on her stomach, her hands parting her asscheeks again. Her asshole was red, still slick with her juices. Manoj pushed the plug against it, the tip slipping in easily but the wider part stretching her.
She gasped, her body tensing, her legs kicking slightly as she tried to adjust. The struggle was intense—her asshole resisted, clenching, but Manoj twisted it, pushing harder until it popped in, fully locked, the base snug against her cheeks.
Mom - “AAAHH! Manoj, it’s… it’s in! It feels so strange… will it hurt?”
Manoj - “It’s fine, slut. Keeps your asshole ready. Never take it out, got it?”
Mom - “But… what if I need to… to shit? I can’t keep it in forever…”
Manoj - “Take it out then, but put it back after. Your asshole’s mine now.”
Mom - “Okay… I’ll try… it’s so uncomfortable…”
Manoj sat back, stroking his cock, still hard and throbbing. He pointed to it, his grin wicked.
Manoj - “Get over here, Rekha. Suck my cock—I need to cum, and your mouth’s perfect.”
Mom - “Alright, Manoj… I’ll do it… just… no more anal sex, please.”
She crawled to him, her boobs swaying, the plug shifting in her asshole with every move.
She took his cock in her mouth, sucking like a professional slut—her lips tight, her tongue swirling, her head bobbing with a rhythm that shocked me.
Her cheeks hollowed, her eyes half-closed, and she made soft, wet sounds, like she’d done this before. I couldn’t believe it—Mom, my holy mom, sucking like that.
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, you’re a professional slut! Sucking my cock like a porn star—damn!”
Mom - “Mmm… I’m just… doing what you want… I’m not that…”
Manoj - “Not that? You’re a fucking pro, bitch—keep sucking, make me cum.”
She kept going, her mouth working faster, her hands gripping his thighs. His cock twitched, and with a grunt, he came, thick spurts filling her mouth.
She gagged, her eyes watering, and tried to pull back, spit dribbling down her chin.
Manoj - “Swallow it, Rekha! Don’t you dare spit my cum out, you whore!”
Mom - “Mmm… Manoj, I can’t… it’s too much… please…”
Manoj - “Swallow, bitch! Open your mouth after—show me it’s gone.”
She swallowed, her throat bobbing, her face crumpling with disgust. She opened her mouth, tongue out, showing it was empty. Manoj laughed, satisfied, and collapsed onto the bed.
Mom curled up beside him, both naked, the plug still in her asshole, her body slick with sweat. They fell asleep, the room quiet except for their heavy breathing.
Then the next morning..........
19-04-2025, 09:06 PM
The morning light crept through the curtains, but the house was silent, heavy with the sins of the night before. Mom—Rekha—and Manoj had slept until 10 a.m., something she never did.
Her usual 6 a.m. prayers were replaced by the weight of exhaustion and shame, her naked body curled beside Manoj’s on the bed, the anal plug still locked in her asshole.
I’d barely slept, my mind replaying her moans, her jiggling ass, and that disgusting plug. By afternoon, Manoj left for his “business,” his suitcase clinking as he swaggered out, leaving Mom and me alone in a house that felt tainted.
Mom stood in the kitchen, her face pale but composed, wearing a nice saree—pale blue with golden embroidery, not as tight as the party dress Shalini forced on her, but still hugging her curves.
The fabric dbangd over her big boobs, outlining their fullness, and clung to her fat ass, each step making her cheeks shift subtly. Her navel peeked out, a soft, oval dip above the saree’s low waist, and her hips swayed with a grace that felt too sensual for a mother.
![[Image: ass-6.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/DzSCJHkr/ass-6.png)
I watched her, my heart heavy, knowing why she was different today.
She turned to me, her eyes soft but nervous, and sat carefully, wincing as the plug shifted in her asshole. Her voice was gentle, but it carried a weight I couldn’t ignore.
Mom - “Sanjay, baby, we need to go to the pandit today. It’s important for both of us.”
Sanjay - “Why, Mom? What’s wrong? Why do we need a pandit?”
Mom - “It’s… it’s just something we need to do, okay? To make things right, to feel clean.”
Sanjay - “Clean? What do you mean? Did something happen?”
Mom - “No, no, baby. It’s just… a ritual. For peace. Don’t worry about it.”
Sanjay - “But why now, Mom? Is it because of last night?”
Mom - “Sanjay, please. It’s not about that. We just need to go. Trust me.”
I knew why, even if she wouldn’t say it. She wanted to cleanse herself of Manoj’s filth—the touch of his, the blowjob, the cum she swallowed. And me?
She probably thought I needed cleansing too, for watching her naked, for seeing her sin through the keyhole and window. Her vague words didn’t fool me, but I didn’t push, not wanting to hurt her. Still, my questions about last night burned inside me.
Me - “Mom, what was going on last night? Why were you naked with Manoj?”
Mom - “Sanjay, oh… it was nothing, baby. I thought I told you about it last night. Just… grown-up things. You shouldn’t have seen that.”
Me - “But why no clothes? And why were you screaming? It didn’t look right.”
Mom - “It was… a game, like I said. Adults do things sometimes. It’s not for kids to understand.”
Me - “A game? It looked scary, Mom. Why were you moaning like that?”
Mom - “Sanjay, enough. Don’t ask more, please. It’s not something you should think about.”
Me - “But why can’t I know? I’m worried about you.”
Mom - “Baby, I’m fine. Just… never watch again, okay? It’s private. You could get confused.”
Me - “Confused? Why would I get confused, Mom?”
Mom - “Because… it’s not for kids’ eyes. Promise me you’ll stay away from keyholes, Sanjay.”
Her explanations were useless, dodging the truth, and it frustrated me. She wasn’t acting like I suspected her—she was still my mom, soft and caring—but I knew she was hiding something shameful.
I promised not to watch again, but my mind wouldn’t let go of the images—Manoj’s cock in her pussy, her ass shaking, that plug in her asshole. We left for the pandit’s house, her saree swishing as she walked gingerly to the bus station, each step cautious, her ass barely moving to avoid the plug’s pressure.
Me - “Mom, why’re you walking so funny? Are you hurt?”
Mom - “No, baby, I’m fine. Just… a little sore from… from sitting too long.”
Me - “Sore? You sure you’re okay?”
Mom - “Yes, Sanjay. Don’t worry. Let’s just get to the bus.”
I knew it was the butt plug, lodged deep in her asshole, making every step a reminder of Manoj’s perversion. Her vague response didn’t fool me, but I stayed quiet, my heart heavy with the secret we both carried.
Her saree clung to her curves, the fabric catching the sunlight, and I couldn’t help but notice how her boobs bounced slightly, her navel winking with each sway. She was beautiful, but it felt wrong to see her like that, like she was still tainted by last night.
We reached the pandit’s house, a small, cluttered place with incense smoke curling in the air. Pandit Ganesh was old, maybe 60, his thin frame dbangd in a faded saffron dhoti and kurta, a red tilak smeared on his forehead.
His eyes were sharp, almost too sharp, and his beard was patchy, giving him a scruffy look. He knew Mom from years ago, when she’d visit for blessings, and his face lit up with surprise as we entered.
Ganesh - “Rekha! My goodness, it’s been years! What brings you here after so long?”
Mom - “Panditji, I… I needed to see you. It’s been a while, and I need… guidance.”
Ganesh - “Guidance? You’ve always been so devout. What’s troubling you?”
Mom - “It’s… personal, Panditji. I just need a ritual, for me and Sanjay, to feel… right.”
Ganesh - “Hmm, I see. Well, you’re here now. Let’s talk.”
In my innocent mind, I doubted Ganesh’s character, even though he was religious. Something about his eyes—too lingering, too eager—made me think he was a pervert, like Manoj.
Maybe it was how he smiled at Mom, or how his gaze flicked to her boobs, barely hidden by the saree’s pallu. I didn’t trust him, suspecting he hid something sinister behind his holy chants.
Mom turned to me, her voice firm but kind.
Mom - “Sanjay, go to the next room, okay? I need to talk to Panditji alone.”
Me - “Why, Mom? Can’t I stay?”
Mom - “No, baby. It’s… private. Please, just wait next door.”
I nodded, moving to the small room beside his, closing the door with a soft click. Through a thin crack, I could still hear them. Ganesh gestured to a woven mat on the floor.
Ganesh - “Sit, Rekha. On the mat, please.”
Mom - “Yes, Panditji… I’ll try…”
She lowered herself carefully, wincing as the butt plug shifted in her asshole. Her fat ass spread on the mat, the saree stretching tight, and she bit her lip, struggling to find a position that didn’t push the plug deeper.
Her hands gripped her knees, her boobs heaving as she breathed through the discomfort. Ganesh tilted his head, noticing her unease.
Ganesh - “What’s wrong, Rekha? You’re sitting so strangely.”
Mom - “Oh, it’s… nothing, Panditji. Just… a little pain in my… back. Not a… not a plug or anything.”
Ganesh - “A back pain? Hmm. Sit properly, we need to begin.”
Mom - “Yes, yes… I’m trying… it’s just… sore.”
She caught herself, nearly mentioning the butt plug, but corrected quickly. Finally, she sat, the plug sinking deeper into her asshole, and I knew it was agonizing.
I wondered—why was Mom here, seeking cleansing with Manoj’s plug still inside her? She was half pious, her faith clashing with the filth she carried, a contradiction that made my head spin. How could she pray with that thing in her?
By now I understood all the filthy dirty secrets of my mom even thought I was still young.
Ganesh began the ritual, lighting incense and chanting softly, the air thick with sandalwood. He paused, his eyes on Mom’s saree.
Ganesh - “Rekha, remove your pallu. Stay in your blouse—it’s needed for the ritual.”
Mom - “My… pallu? Is that necessary, Panditji?”
Ganesh - “Yes, it allows the mantras to flow freely. Do it now.”
She hesitated, then obeyed, letting the pallu slip, revealing her tight blouse. Her big boobs popped forward, the fabric straining, her nipples faintly visible. I knew something was wrong—why did he need her half-exposed?
![[Image: breasts-2.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/nLKXkcJp/breasts-2.png)
As she closed her eyes at his command, Ganesh’s gaze locked on her boobs, a hungry glint in his eyes. He lit more incense, his chants growing louder, but his focus was on her curves, not the ritual.
Ganesh - “Open up, Rekha. Tell me why you’re here. What burdens you?”
Mom - “I… Panditji, I feel exposed like this. Can I cover with my scarf?”
Ganesh - “No, Rekha. The blouse is part of the ritual. The scarf blocks the energy. Stay as you are.”
Mom - “I… I think I made a mistake coming here. I shouldn’t reveal my wrongs… I should go.”
Ganesh - “Stay, Rekha. Sinning is normal if you repent. Sit, tell me everything.”
She started to stand, her fat ass lifting off the mat, the plug making her wince. Ganesh’s hand shot out, grabbing her waist, his fingers lingering too long, too close to her hips in a sexual way.
Mom froze, her eyes wide, but his words were calm, almost soothing, as he gazed at her boobs and thighs, his lips twitching with a subtle drool.
Ganesh - “You’re safe here, Rekha. Everyone sins. Repent, and you’ll be clean. What did you do?”
Mom - “I… I did something very bad, Panditji. I feel so ashamed.”
Ganesh - “Bad? Tell me more. What happened? Don’t hide from the truth.”
Mom - “I… I don’t know if I can say it. It’s too heavy, too wrong.”
Ganesh - “You must, Rekha. Hiding sins blocks your soul. What did you do?”
Mom - “I… I committed adultery, Panditji. I was with another man… not my husband. I slept with him, I fell into temptations.”
Ganesh - “Temptations? Hmm. That’s not such a big sin, Rekha. Many stray and return.”
Mom - “Not big? Panditji, I betrayed Amit, my husband! How is that not terrible?”
She was shocked, but a flicker of relief crossed her face, like his words lifted some guilt. I couldn’t believe it—adultery, the anal sex, the blowjob, all dismissed so easily? Ganesh leaned closer, his eyes glued to her boobs, a thin line of drool escaping his lips as he questioned her.
Ganesh - “It’s not big because the heart can be cleansed, Rekha. How did it start? Tell me.”
Mom - “It… it was a mistake, Panditji. A friend pushed me, and… I didn’t mean to.”
Ganesh - “Pushed you? Why did you do it? Did you feel something, maybe… pleasure?”
Mom - “Pleasure? No… I mean, my body… it reacted, but I hated it. I betrayed Amit.”
Ganesh - “Betrayed? No, Rekha. You’re human. Did you like it, even a little?”
Mom - “I… I don’t know, Panditji. I feel so bad, so dirty. I’m not that woman. I want be a good wife to my husband Amit and a good mother to my son Sanjay”
Ganesh - “Calm down, Rekha. You’re not dirty. Bodies react—it’s natural. Tell me more.”
Mom - “I keep thinking I’m awful, Panditji. I let it happen… I’m a terrible wife.”
Ganesh - “Shh, Rekha. You’re not. Repent, and it’s gone. You’re still pure.”
His eyes never left her boobs and thighs, his drool now a noticeable drip, his tongue flicking to catch it. I saw his dhoti shift—a bulge growing, his dick rising under the thin fabric.
This religious man was getting aroused by my mom's exciting body and curves. I felt so angry and so disgusted.
Mom didn’t notice, too caught in her guilt, but I did, and anger boiled in me. This so-called holy man was taking advantage, lusting after her like Manoj did.
I wanted to scream, to protect her, but I was just a kid, powerless.
Ganesh stood, his voice suddenly sharp.
Ganesh - “Lie on the bed, Rekha. On your stomach. The ritual needs it.”
Mom - “On the bed? Panditji, why? Is that… normal?”
Ganesh - “Don’t question me, Rekha! Lie down, or the ritual fails. Do it now.”
Mom - “Okay… I’ll do it… but it feels strange…”
She hesitated, her suspicion clear, but obeyed, moving to the low bed. He told her to remove the saree’s pleats and petticoat, leaving her in her blouse and a thin underskirt that hugged her curves.
The underskirt was sheer, clinging to her fat ass, outlining every jiggle, and her navel was exposed, a deep, sensual dip that caught the light. Mom’s voice trembled.
Mom - “Panditji, please look away while I… while I remove this.”
Ganesh - “No, Rekha. I must watch—it’s part of the ritual. Remove it.”
Mom - “Alright… but… it feels wrong…”
She obeyed, peeling off the pleats and petticoat, the fabric sliding erotically over her ass, revealing the underskirt’s tight grip on her curves.
![[Image: ass-2.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/prBNG4d9/ass-2.png)
Her navel glistened with sweat, a perfect oval that seemed to draw Ganesh’s eyes. His brow raised as she climbed onto the bed, lying on her stomach, her fat ass spreading under the underskirt, the plug’s base faintly visible through the fabric. My heart raced—why was he doing this?
Ganesh - “Never look behind, Rekha. Stay still, face down.”
Mom - “Yes, Panditji… will this cleanse me fully? I need to be pure again.”
Ganesh - “…”
He didn’t answer, his eyes locked on her ass, his mouth slightly open, drool pooling. I watched, horrified, as he stood, undoing his dhoti.
His dick sprang free—big, thick, veined, almost as monstrous as Manoj’s, a shocking sight for a religious man. I was stunned—how could a pandit, a man of God, do this?
He began stroking, his hand moving slowly at first, then faster, his eyes devouring Mom’s ass, the underskirt outlining every curve.
His strokes were deliberate, his fingers tight around the shaft, precum glistening at the tip. He groaned, his hips twitching, and kept stroking until he came, thick spurts shooting out.
Ganesh - “Ughhh… hmmm…”
Mom - “Panditji, are you okay? What’s that sound?”
Ganesh - “I’m… fine, Rekha. Just… channeling the mantras. Stay still.”
His cum landed on Mom’s ass, splattering the underskirt, some hitting her exposed back, white streaks against her skin. She tensed, sensing something.
Mom - “Panditji, what’s… what’s on my back? It feels wet…”
Ganesh - “It’s… holy ash, Rekha. Part of the ritual. Don’t look behind.”
Mom - “Holy ash? Oh… thank you, Panditji. I feel… better already.”
She sounded pleased, clueless about the sin happening literally behind her back. Ganesh collapsed onto a chair, panting, his dick softening, cum dripping onto the floor. I was disgusted, my trust in holy men shattered—this was no ritual, just filth disguised as faith.
Mom - “Panditji, are you alright? Should I call a doctor?”
Ganesh - “No, Rekha. I’m fine. Don’t move, don’t look behind. The ritual’s not done.”
Mom - “Okay… I’ll stay… thank you for helping me.”
Her voice was soft, trusting, but I knew the truth—Ganesh was a pervert, and Mom was caught in another man’s lust, her half-pious heart blind to the cum on her back.
I wanted to save her, but I was just Sanjay, a kid with no power, watching her fall deeper into a world of sin
The morning light crept through the curtains, but the house was silent, heavy with the sins of the night before. Mom—Rekha—and Manoj had slept until 10 a.m., something she never did.
Her usual 6 a.m. prayers were replaced by the weight of exhaustion and shame, her naked body curled beside Manoj’s on the bed, the anal plug still locked in her asshole.
I’d barely slept, my mind replaying her moans, her jiggling ass, and that disgusting plug. By afternoon, Manoj left for his “business,” his suitcase clinking as he swaggered out, leaving Mom and me alone in a house that felt tainted.
Mom stood in the kitchen, her face pale but composed, wearing a nice saree—pale blue with golden embroidery, not as tight as the party dress Shalini forced on her, but still hugging her curves.
The fabric dbangd over her big boobs, outlining their fullness, and clung to her fat ass, each step making her cheeks shift subtly. Her navel peeked out, a soft, oval dip above the saree’s low waist, and her hips swayed with a grace that felt too sensual for a mother.
I watched her, my heart heavy, knowing why she was different today.
She turned to me, her eyes soft but nervous, and sat carefully, wincing as the plug shifted in her asshole. Her voice was gentle, but it carried a weight I couldn’t ignore.
Mom - “Sanjay, baby, we need to go to the pandit today. It’s important for both of us.”
Sanjay - “Why, Mom? What’s wrong? Why do we need a pandit?”
Mom - “It’s… it’s just something we need to do, okay? To make things right, to feel clean.”
Sanjay - “Clean? What do you mean? Did something happen?”
Mom - “No, no, baby. It’s just… a ritual. For peace. Don’t worry about it.”
Sanjay - “But why now, Mom? Is it because of last night?”
Mom - “Sanjay, please. It’s not about that. We just need to go. Trust me.”
I knew why, even if she wouldn’t say it. She wanted to cleanse herself of Manoj’s filth—the touch of his, the blowjob, the cum she swallowed. And me?
She probably thought I needed cleansing too, for watching her naked, for seeing her sin through the keyhole and window. Her vague words didn’t fool me, but I didn’t push, not wanting to hurt her. Still, my questions about last night burned inside me.
Me - “Mom, what was going on last night? Why were you naked with Manoj?”
Mom - “Sanjay, oh… it was nothing, baby. I thought I told you about it last night. Just… grown-up things. You shouldn’t have seen that.”
Me - “But why no clothes? And why were you screaming? It didn’t look right.”
Mom - “It was… a game, like I said. Adults do things sometimes. It’s not for kids to understand.”
Me - “A game? It looked scary, Mom. Why were you moaning like that?”
Mom - “Sanjay, enough. Don’t ask more, please. It’s not something you should think about.”
Me - “But why can’t I know? I’m worried about you.”
Mom - “Baby, I’m fine. Just… never watch again, okay? It’s private. You could get confused.”
Me - “Confused? Why would I get confused, Mom?”
Mom - “Because… it’s not for kids’ eyes. Promise me you’ll stay away from keyholes, Sanjay.”
Her explanations were useless, dodging the truth, and it frustrated me. She wasn’t acting like I suspected her—she was still my mom, soft and caring—but I knew she was hiding something shameful.
I promised not to watch again, but my mind wouldn’t let go of the images—Manoj’s cock in her pussy, her ass shaking, that plug in her asshole. We left for the pandit’s house, her saree swishing as she walked gingerly to the bus station, each step cautious, her ass barely moving to avoid the plug’s pressure.
Me - “Mom, why’re you walking so funny? Are you hurt?”
Mom - “No, baby, I’m fine. Just… a little sore from… from sitting too long.”
Me - “Sore? You sure you’re okay?”
Mom - “Yes, Sanjay. Don’t worry. Let’s just get to the bus.”
I knew it was the butt plug, lodged deep in her asshole, making every step a reminder of Manoj’s perversion. Her vague response didn’t fool me, but I stayed quiet, my heart heavy with the secret we both carried.
Her saree clung to her curves, the fabric catching the sunlight, and I couldn’t help but notice how her boobs bounced slightly, her navel winking with each sway. She was beautiful, but it felt wrong to see her like that, like she was still tainted by last night.
We reached the pandit’s house, a small, cluttered place with incense smoke curling in the air. Pandit Ganesh was old, maybe 60, his thin frame dbangd in a faded saffron dhoti and kurta, a red tilak smeared on his forehead.
His eyes were sharp, almost too sharp, and his beard was patchy, giving him a scruffy look. He knew Mom from years ago, when she’d visit for blessings, and his face lit up with surprise as we entered.
Ganesh - “Rekha! My goodness, it’s been years! What brings you here after so long?”
Mom - “Panditji, I… I needed to see you. It’s been a while, and I need… guidance.”
Ganesh - “Guidance? You’ve always been so devout. What’s troubling you?”
Mom - “It’s… personal, Panditji. I just need a ritual, for me and Sanjay, to feel… right.”
Ganesh - “Hmm, I see. Well, you’re here now. Let’s talk.”
In my innocent mind, I doubted Ganesh’s character, even though he was religious. Something about his eyes—too lingering, too eager—made me think he was a pervert, like Manoj.
Maybe it was how he smiled at Mom, or how his gaze flicked to her boobs, barely hidden by the saree’s pallu. I didn’t trust him, suspecting he hid something sinister behind his holy chants.
Mom turned to me, her voice firm but kind.
Mom - “Sanjay, go to the next room, okay? I need to talk to Panditji alone.”
Me - “Why, Mom? Can’t I stay?”
Mom - “No, baby. It’s… private. Please, just wait next door.”
I nodded, moving to the small room beside his, closing the door with a soft click. Through a thin crack, I could still hear them. Ganesh gestured to a woven mat on the floor.
Ganesh - “Sit, Rekha. On the mat, please.”
Mom - “Yes, Panditji… I’ll try…”
She lowered herself carefully, wincing as the butt plug shifted in her asshole. Her fat ass spread on the mat, the saree stretching tight, and she bit her lip, struggling to find a position that didn’t push the plug deeper.
Her hands gripped her knees, her boobs heaving as she breathed through the discomfort. Ganesh tilted his head, noticing her unease.
Ganesh - “What’s wrong, Rekha? You’re sitting so strangely.”
Mom - “Oh, it’s… nothing, Panditji. Just… a little pain in my… back. Not a… not a plug or anything.”
Ganesh - “A back pain? Hmm. Sit properly, we need to begin.”
Mom - “Yes, yes… I’m trying… it’s just… sore.”
She caught herself, nearly mentioning the butt plug, but corrected quickly. Finally, she sat, the plug sinking deeper into her asshole, and I knew it was agonizing.
I wondered—why was Mom here, seeking cleansing with Manoj’s plug still inside her? She was half pious, her faith clashing with the filth she carried, a contradiction that made my head spin. How could she pray with that thing in her?
By now I understood all the filthy dirty secrets of my mom even thought I was still young.
Ganesh began the ritual, lighting incense and chanting softly, the air thick with sandalwood. He paused, his eyes on Mom’s saree.
Ganesh - “Rekha, remove your pallu. Stay in your blouse—it’s needed for the ritual.”
Mom - “My… pallu? Is that necessary, Panditji?”
Ganesh - “Yes, it allows the mantras to flow freely. Do it now.”
She hesitated, then obeyed, letting the pallu slip, revealing her tight blouse. Her big boobs popped forward, the fabric straining, her nipples faintly visible. I knew something was wrong—why did he need her half-exposed?
As she closed her eyes at his command, Ganesh’s gaze locked on her boobs, a hungry glint in his eyes. He lit more incense, his chants growing louder, but his focus was on her curves, not the ritual.
Ganesh - “Open up, Rekha. Tell me why you’re here. What burdens you?”
Mom - “I… Panditji, I feel exposed like this. Can I cover with my scarf?”
Ganesh - “No, Rekha. The blouse is part of the ritual. The scarf blocks the energy. Stay as you are.”
Mom - “I… I think I made a mistake coming here. I shouldn’t reveal my wrongs… I should go.”
Ganesh - “Stay, Rekha. Sinning is normal if you repent. Sit, tell me everything.”
She started to stand, her fat ass lifting off the mat, the plug making her wince. Ganesh’s hand shot out, grabbing her waist, his fingers lingering too long, too close to her hips in a sexual way.
Mom froze, her eyes wide, but his words were calm, almost soothing, as he gazed at her boobs and thighs, his lips twitching with a subtle drool.
Ganesh - “You’re safe here, Rekha. Everyone sins. Repent, and you’ll be clean. What did you do?”
Mom - “I… I did something very bad, Panditji. I feel so ashamed.”
Ganesh - “Bad? Tell me more. What happened? Don’t hide from the truth.”
Mom - “I… I don’t know if I can say it. It’s too heavy, too wrong.”
Ganesh - “You must, Rekha. Hiding sins blocks your soul. What did you do?”
Mom - “I… I committed adultery, Panditji. I was with another man… not my husband. I slept with him, I fell into temptations.”
Ganesh - “Temptations? Hmm. That’s not such a big sin, Rekha. Many stray and return.”
Mom - “Not big? Panditji, I betrayed Amit, my husband! How is that not terrible?”
She was shocked, but a flicker of relief crossed her face, like his words lifted some guilt. I couldn’t believe it—adultery, the anal sex, the blowjob, all dismissed so easily? Ganesh leaned closer, his eyes glued to her boobs, a thin line of drool escaping his lips as he questioned her.
Ganesh - “It’s not big because the heart can be cleansed, Rekha. How did it start? Tell me.”
Mom - “It… it was a mistake, Panditji. A friend pushed me, and… I didn’t mean to.”
Ganesh - “Pushed you? Why did you do it? Did you feel something, maybe… pleasure?”
Mom - “Pleasure? No… I mean, my body… it reacted, but I hated it. I betrayed Amit.”
Ganesh - “Betrayed? No, Rekha. You’re human. Did you like it, even a little?”
Mom - “I… I don’t know, Panditji. I feel so bad, so dirty. I’m not that woman. I want be a good wife to my husband Amit and a good mother to my son Sanjay”
Ganesh - “Calm down, Rekha. You’re not dirty. Bodies react—it’s natural. Tell me more.”
Mom - “I keep thinking I’m awful, Panditji. I let it happen… I’m a terrible wife.”
Ganesh - “Shh, Rekha. You’re not. Repent, and it’s gone. You’re still pure.”
His eyes never left her boobs and thighs, his drool now a noticeable drip, his tongue flicking to catch it. I saw his dhoti shift—a bulge growing, his dick rising under the thin fabric.
This religious man was getting aroused by my mom's exciting body and curves. I felt so angry and so disgusted.
Mom didn’t notice, too caught in her guilt, but I did, and anger boiled in me. This so-called holy man was taking advantage, lusting after her like Manoj did.
I wanted to scream, to protect her, but I was just a kid, powerless.
Ganesh stood, his voice suddenly sharp.
Ganesh - “Lie on the bed, Rekha. On your stomach. The ritual needs it.”
Mom - “On the bed? Panditji, why? Is that… normal?”
Ganesh - “Don’t question me, Rekha! Lie down, or the ritual fails. Do it now.”
Mom - “Okay… I’ll do it… but it feels strange…”
She hesitated, her suspicion clear, but obeyed, moving to the low bed. He told her to remove the saree’s pleats and petticoat, leaving her in her blouse and a thin underskirt that hugged her curves.
The underskirt was sheer, clinging to her fat ass, outlining every jiggle, and her navel was exposed, a deep, sensual dip that caught the light. Mom’s voice trembled.
Mom - “Panditji, please look away while I… while I remove this.”
Ganesh - “No, Rekha. I must watch—it’s part of the ritual. Remove it.”
Mom - “Alright… but… it feels wrong…”
She obeyed, peeling off the pleats and petticoat, the fabric sliding erotically over her ass, revealing the underskirt’s tight grip on her curves.
Her navel glistened with sweat, a perfect oval that seemed to draw Ganesh’s eyes. His brow raised as she climbed onto the bed, lying on her stomach, her fat ass spreading under the underskirt, the plug’s base faintly visible through the fabric. My heart raced—why was he doing this?
Ganesh - “Never look behind, Rekha. Stay still, face down.”
Mom - “Yes, Panditji… will this cleanse me fully? I need to be pure again.”
Ganesh - “…”
He didn’t answer, his eyes locked on her ass, his mouth slightly open, drool pooling. I watched, horrified, as he stood, undoing his dhoti.
His dick sprang free—big, thick, veined, almost as monstrous as Manoj’s, a shocking sight for a religious man. I was stunned—how could a pandit, a man of God, do this?
He began stroking, his hand moving slowly at first, then faster, his eyes devouring Mom’s ass, the underskirt outlining every curve.
His strokes were deliberate, his fingers tight around the shaft, precum glistening at the tip. He groaned, his hips twitching, and kept stroking until he came, thick spurts shooting out.
Ganesh - “Ughhh… hmmm…”
Mom - “Panditji, are you okay? What’s that sound?”
Ganesh - “I’m… fine, Rekha. Just… channeling the mantras. Stay still.”
His cum landed on Mom’s ass, splattering the underskirt, some hitting her exposed back, white streaks against her skin. She tensed, sensing something.
Mom - “Panditji, what’s… what’s on my back? It feels wet…”
Ganesh - “It’s… holy ash, Rekha. Part of the ritual. Don’t look behind.”
Mom - “Holy ash? Oh… thank you, Panditji. I feel… better already.”
She sounded pleased, clueless about the sin happening literally behind her back. Ganesh collapsed onto a chair, panting, his dick softening, cum dripping onto the floor. I was disgusted, my trust in holy men shattered—this was no ritual, just filth disguised as faith.
Mom - “Panditji, are you alright? Should I call a doctor?”
Ganesh - “No, Rekha. I’m fine. Don’t move, don’t look behind. The ritual’s not done.”
Mom - “Okay… I’ll stay… thank you for helping me.”
Her voice was soft, trusting, but I knew the truth—Ganesh was a pervert, and Mom was caught in another man’s lust, her half-pious heart blind to the cum on her back.
I wanted to save her, but I was just Sanjay, a kid with no power, watching her fall deeper into a world of sin
21-04-2025, 12:16 AM
The pandit’s room was a haze of incense and betrayal, the air thick with the sin I’d just witnessed.
Mom—Rekha—lay on the bed, her fat ass spread under the sheer underskirt, the butt plug’s base faintly visible, her big boobs straining her blouse, unaware of Ganesh’s cum streaking her back.
I stood in the next room, my fists clenched, fury burning through me. Ganesh was no holy man—just a pervert like Manoj, lusting after Mom’s body.
He stirred, panting from his climax, and sat up, wiping sweat from his brow, his dhoti barely concealing his shame.
Ganesh - “Rekha, sit up now. Back on the mat.”
Mom - “Yes, Panditji… but why are you sweating so much? Are you unwell?”
Ganesh - “No, it’s the ritual’s energy, Rekha. Channeling mantras takes… great effort.”
Mom - “Oh, I see… it must be exhausting. Thank you for doing this for me. I think I feel pure”
Mom - “Is there more to do, Panditji? I want to feel… fully cleansed.”
Ganesh - “Yes, Rekha. I need to apply holy oil on your breasts to purify your heart chakra.”
Mom - “My… breasts? Why is that necessary? It sounds… I don't know, but why panditji?”
Ganesh - “The chest holds your guilt, Rekha. The oil aligns your soul, washes away sin. I can target your sin by touching your breasts”
Mom - “Alright… if it’s for purification, I trust you. Will it take long?”
Ganesh - “Not long. It’s a sacred step—your heart will feel lighter.”
Her faith blinded her to his lechery, and she saw no wrong in his request. I watched through the crack, seething, as Ganesh poured oil into his palms, his eyes devouring her boobs.
![[Image: curvy.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/rwBh4g87/curvy.png)
Her blouse was tight, nipples faintly outlined, and he rubbed the oil over the fabric, not fully on her skin but close enough to be perverse.
His hands lingered, deliberately cupping her boobs, squeezing gently, fingers tracing the curves.
Mom stiffened, unease flickering in her eyes, but she accepted it, trusting his “holy” intent.
Mom - “Panditji… this feels… strange. Is it supposed to be so… this way?”
Ganesh - “Yes, Rekha. The oil must connect deeply with your energy. Relax, it’s working.”
Mom - “Okay… it’s just… different. Does it always feel this way?”
Ganesh - “For some, yes. Your soul is heavy—it needs extra care. Your breast are the gateway to purity"
Mom - “I… I hope it’s helping. I feel so guilty, Panditji.”
Ganesh - “It’s done now. Your heart is lighter, yes?”
Mom - “Yes, Panditji! I’m… relieved, truly. But… should I tell Amit about my affair with another man?”
Ganesh - “No, Rekha. Adultery is a smallest sin ever. It is even smaller than stealing a candy. Telling him would hurt him needlessly. There is no need to tell your husband. Just keep it as a secret”
Mom - “Really? I feel so ashamed… but if you say it’s minor, I’ll keep it secret.”
Ganesh - “Wise choice. Keep it between us and the gods. It’s better for your family.”
Mom - “Thank you… I was so scared Amit would hate me. Call Sanjay now?”
Ganesh - “Yes, call him. His cleansing is next.”
Mom - “Sanjay! Come here, baby!”
I stormed in, my anger barely contained. Ganesh’s oily hands glistened, his dhoti hiding the dick he’d stroked to Mom’s ass. He chanted over me, sprinkling water, but I barely listened, my eyes on Mom’s blouse, damp with oil, her boobs still popping out.
![[Image: breasts-4.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/jS0NQ176/breasts-4.png)
She looked slightly pleased, her guilt eased by Ganesh’s lies, but her eyes held a shadow of shame, like she knew she wasn’t fully clean.
We left the pandit’s house, the street alive with vendors’ shouts, one casting a curious glance at Mom’s swaying hips, her saree—a soft green with silver threads—clinging to her curves, outlining her big boobs and fat ass. A lot of men were staring at my mom's juicy ass.
Other men were honking their cars just to tease my mom but she was ignoring them. When she passed near men, they were cat calling her due to her fat ass jiggling.
![[Image: ass-8.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/156MQw0H/ass-8.png)
Her phone buzzed repeatedly— “Manoj” flashing. She blocked each call, her fingers trembling, a bead of sweat rolling down her navel, catching the sunlight.
Me - “Mom, why aren’t you answering? It’s Manoj, isn’t it?”
Mom - “Oh, Sanjay, it’s… just someone. I’m not in the mood to talk right now.”
Me - “But he keeps calling. What does he want? Is it about that night?”
Mom - “No, baby, it’s nothing like that. Just… someone checking in.”
Me - “Checking in? Mom, why won’t you tell me? I’m worried.”
Mom - “Sanjay, please. It’s not important. Let’s just focus on today, okay?”
Her vague answers stung, and I pressed harder, my voice sharp with frustration.
The butt plug was still in her asshole, making her walk gingerly, each step cautious to avoid the pressure.
Her saree swished, her navel winking, and I knew the plug was why she moved so oddly, a filthy secret beneath her pious exterior.
That night, Mom sat in the sitting room, eating crisps, the crunch echoing in the quiet house. A small lamp flickered, casting shadows on her saree, her boobs heaving slightly as she breathed.
She dialed Shalini, her naughty friend who’d pushed her into Manoj’s arms. Shalini answered, but loud moans—raw, desperate—burst through, mixed with thumping, like a bed slamming against a wall.
Shalini - “Uuhhh! Fuck! Ohhh! Hey, Rekha… what’s up?”
Mom - “Shalini?! Why are you… moaning like that? What’s happening?”
Shalini - “Oh, shit… Rakesh is fucking me hard, Rekha! His cock’s deep in my asshole! Ooh I am loving it so hard”
Mom - “What?! Shalini, that’s… shocking! Rakesh? Your husband's friend?”
Shalini - “Yeah, uuhhh! He’s pounding my asshole now… feels so fucking good!”
Mom - “Your… asshole? Shalini, how can you? That’s… disgusting! How can you have sex with your husband's friend? Shalini what are you doing?”
Mom - “How could you do this to Ravi? It’s… it’s a sin!”
Shalini - “Sin? Fuck that, Rekha! It’s pleasure—my asshole’s his playground!”
Mom’s hand shook, and she hung up, crisps spilling onto the floor. Her face was pale, her eyes wide, like Shalini’s words had scorched her.
She clutched her saree, pacing, then sat heavily, wincing as the plug shifted. A glass of water on the table tipped, spilling slightly, her nerves betraying her.
Thirty minutes later, she called Shalini again, her voice steadier but laced with guilt.
Mom - “Shalini, hi… I… we need to talk about earlier.”
Shalini - “Rekha, babe! Sorry about that—Rakesh was tearing me up. You okay?”
Mom - “No, I’m not okay. Why do you do that? With Rakesh? It’s so wrong.”
Shalini - “Wrong? Bullshit, Rekha. It’s fun—my pussy, my asshole, they’re made for fucking. Women are for sex purposes to please men, you should know that Rekha.”
Mom - “But… anal sex? How can you let him? What about Ravi, your husband?”
Shalini - “Ravi’s a bore. I love my husband Ravi but there is something about Rakesh that my husband Ravi doesn't have. All women are sluts inside, Rekha—filthy, horny, and free.”
Mom - “No… I’m not like that. I want to be a good wife, a good mother. I'm not a slut and I will never be one”
Shalini - “Good? That’s a cage. Tell me about Manoj—did he fuck you raw?”
Mom - “Shalini… I don’t want to. You pushed me to him—it was a mistake.”
Shalini - “Mistake? Your pussy loved it, didn’t it? Spill, Rekha—what’d he do?”
Mom - “Ok look, don't tell anyone but, He… he fucked me, okay? I didn’t want it… I was forced.”
Shalini - “Forced? Your pussy was dripping, bitch. Did he fuck your mouth too?”
Mom - “Yes… he did… I’m so ashamed. It was all wrong.”
Shalini - “Ashamed? There is nothing to be ashamed of. You are in the right path Rekha, enjoy your life. Let me ask, Did he try your asshole? Come on, tell me everything!”
Mom - “He… he tried anal sex, but I couldn’t… it hurt too much. He forced his thing in my backhole but...I didn't feel comfortable. I wish I never met him”
Shalini - “You fucking prude! Anal’s the best—you should’ve let him wreck your asshole! You could've felt a strange but fantastic feeling ever”
Mom - “No, Shalini! I’ve never done it… and I won’t, not with Amit home. My husband Amit came so I want to forget Manoj forever”
Shalini - “Amit? Fuck your family, Rekha. You’re a slut—own that shit! Even if you pretend to be a good mother to Sanjay, you will never wipe the sluttiness and the fact that you committed a sin with another man while your husband was away.”
Mom - “Stop! Stop saying those words Shalini. I want a good family… I can’t live like you do.”
Shalini - “Family’s a lie. Tell me more. Did Manoj did anything bizzare to your body?”
Mom - “He… gave me something, I heard him calling it a butt plug. I don’t understand it… it’s still… inside me.”
Shalini - “A butt plug?! Damn, Rekha! That’s to stretch your asshole for his cock! Butt plugs are used for when you have never been fucked in the ass”
Mom - “Stretch? No… I’ll never let him… I’m trying to be pure.”
Shalini - “Pure? Did you enjoy his cock, Rekha? Be honest, slut.”
Mom - “I… my body… liked it a little. But I hated it, Shalini. There are moments where he gave it to me really good but honestly I feel bad”
Shalini - “Come on Rekha, every woman ought to feel good. Besides, no one knows, only me, you and Manoj. Tell me what’d you love? His big dick stretching you?”
Mom - “It… it was intense… his cock was so big, it… filled me. But I felt filthy. He fucked me so hard until I lost myself”
Shalini - “You’re a fucking slut, Rekha, loving every inch of that cock! I knew you were just religious outside but a slut and a whore inside, heheeheh”
Mom - “No! I’m blessed… Actually, I forgot to tell you that Sanjay and I went to a pandit to cleanse myself.”
Shalini - “A pandit? Bet he was hard for your tits—your body’s cock-bait, Rekha! No man can resist your body, not even the closest religious person in the world”
Mom - “No, Panditji was holy… he oiled my chest, purified me… I think I am clean now”
Shalini - “Oiled your chest? He was stroking to your boobs, you naive bitch! Don't think he was giving you cleansing ritual, he was giving you rubbing boobs ritual”
Mom - “Stop… Shalini, honestly, after what I did, I feel so dirty… I can’t even look at my husband Amit in the eyes…”
Shalini - “Dirty’s the best, Rekha! It means you’re free. Fuck more, feel more! You are not tied to Amit for the rest of your life. You now have Manoj who can pound your holes the right way while Amit is far away or even close”
Mom - “Pound my ho??? I… I don’t know… I want to be good, but… it’s so hard…I will try my best”
Shalini - “Good’s bullshit. Tell me more. Did you suck Manoj’s cock? Swallow his cum?”
Mom - “Yes… he made me… it was disgusting, but I did it.”
Shalini - “Disgusting? Bet you loved his cum—how’d it taste, slut?”
Mom - “It… it was thick, bitter. I hated it, Shalini. But I felt really bad. I have always trained myself to be faithful but I don't know why I took this filthy road.”
Shalini - “Nothing is filthy. You’re a cum-slut, Rekha! You’re hooked, admit it! You are officially his slut once he fucks your asshole”
Mom - “No… I’m trying to love or be with Manoj… I want to be Amit’s wife and Sanjay’s mom.”
Shalini - “Wife? Mom? You’re a whore, Rekha—your pussy’s begging for cock.”
Mom’s transitions were smooth, flowing from defending her family to confessing her shame, then grappling with Shalini’s evil philosophy.
She lingered on each topic—her guilt over Manoj, her fear for her family, her body’s betrayal—her voice heavy with conflict, never abrupt. Shalini’s words were a venomous lure, and Mom was caught, half-believing but fighting to stay good.
The next day, Dad came home from work, his face weary but warm. I felt a deep sorrow for him, my heart breaking—he didn’t know his wife was tainted by Manoj’s cock, Ganesh’s cum, Shalini’s evil.
I wanted to tell him, to save him from her lies, but fear of divorce stopped me. It’d destroy Mom, shatter our family, leave me alone. That night, Mom went to Dad in their room, her voice trembling as she sat on the bed, her saree slipping to reveal her navel, a faint bruise from Manoj’s grip visible on her hip.
Mom - “Amit, I… I need to apologize. For… for anything I’ve done wrong.”
Dad - “Rekha? What’s going on? Why’re you saying this?”
Mom - “I… I feel I’ve hurt you, Amit. Please, forgive me if I’ve been bad.”
Dad - “Bad? Rekha, you’re my wife—you haven’t hurt me. What’s wrong?”
Mom - “I’ve… I’ve done so many wrong things. I’m so sorry, I feel awful.”
Dad - “Wrong things? Like what? You’re scaring me, Rekha—talk to me.”
Mom - “I… I can’t say it… just… please, say you forgive me, Amit.”
Dad - “Okay, I forgive you. Whatever it is, I love you. You don’t need to explain.”
Mom - “Thank you… I don’t deserve you… I’m trying to be better, I swear. I am trying to be a good wife to you, not some....uuhh...”
Dad - “Rekha, you’re perfect to me. What’s got you so upset?”
Mom - “I… I just feel guilty. I want to be the wife you deserve. Not a bad wife or a bad mom to Sanjay”
Dad’s confusion cut me; he trusted her blindly, unaware of Manoj, the anal sex attempt, the plug. He sniffed the air, frowning. After few hours later.
Dad - “Rekha, why’s the room smell so… odd? It’s musky, not like usual.”
Mom - “Oh! It’s… just some new candles I tried. Nothing else, I promise.”
Dad - “Candles? Smells stronger, like… something else. You sure?”
Mom - “Yes, just candles… and maybe… some old laundry. I’ll air it out.”
Mom - “I… I’ll clean everything tomorrow, Amit. Don’t worry.”
Her lie was shaky, her face flushed—she knew it was Manoj’s scent, his sweat and cum lingering. .
Mom's adulterous last night with Manoj left a lingering filthy smell in the bedroom and dad didn't even realize it. He didn't even realize that some cum were left on the walls.
Her phone rang, buzzing loudly, “Manoj” flashing. She grabbed it, panicking, and answered in a hushed voice, stepping away
Dad - “Who’s that, Rekha? It’s late for calls.”
Mom - “It’s… a friend, Amit. Shalini’s cousin, you know him.”
Dad - “Her cousin? What’s he want at this hour?”
Mom - “Just… asking about a family event. It’s nothing, really.”
Dad - “A family event? Sounds odd. He calls a lot, doesn’t he?”
Mom - “Not really… it’s just… a one-off. I’ll handle it, Amit.”
Dad nodded, but his eyes lingered, puzzled by her nerves.
I seethed—Manoj was a shadow, haunting her even with Dad home. The next morning, Dad was leaving for work when he spotted a torn bra and satin dress in the laundry basket, ripped at the straps and hem. He held them up, confused.
Dad - “Rekha, what’s this? Your bra and dress are torn to pieces.”
Mom - “Oh… Amit, I… I didn’t notice. Must’ve… gotten caught somewhere.”
Dad - “Caught? These are shredded, Rekha. How’d this happen?”
Mom - “I… I was trying them on, and… they just tore. Silly accident.”
Dad - “An accident? Looks like more than that. You okay, Rekha?”
Mom - “Yes, I’m fine! Just… clumsy. I’ll get rid of them, don’t worry.”
Dad - “Alright… it seems strange. Were you trying them on for something special?”
Mom - “No, no… just… checking if they fit. I’ll be more careful.”
Dad - “Okay… just let me know if something’s up, Rekha. I’m here.”
I knew Manoj tore them, his hands ripping her clothes in his frenzy that night. Dad left, and Mom avoided Manoj’s calls, her phone silent, the weight of her secrets heavy in the air
Mom—Rekha—lay on the bed, her fat ass spread under the sheer underskirt, the butt plug’s base faintly visible, her big boobs straining her blouse, unaware of Ganesh’s cum streaking her back.
I stood in the next room, my fists clenched, fury burning through me. Ganesh was no holy man—just a pervert like Manoj, lusting after Mom’s body.
He stirred, panting from his climax, and sat up, wiping sweat from his brow, his dhoti barely concealing his shame.
Ganesh - “Rekha, sit up now. Back on the mat.”
Mom - “Yes, Panditji… but why are you sweating so much? Are you unwell?”
Ganesh - “No, it’s the ritual’s energy, Rekha. Channeling mantras takes… great effort.”
Mom - “Oh, I see… it must be exhausting. Thank you for doing this for me. I think I feel pure”
Mom - “Is there more to do, Panditji? I want to feel… fully cleansed.”
Ganesh - “Yes, Rekha. I need to apply holy oil on your breasts to purify your heart chakra.”
Mom - “My… breasts? Why is that necessary? It sounds… I don't know, but why panditji?”
Ganesh - “The chest holds your guilt, Rekha. The oil aligns your soul, washes away sin. I can target your sin by touching your breasts”
Mom - “Alright… if it’s for purification, I trust you. Will it take long?”
Ganesh - “Not long. It’s a sacred step—your heart will feel lighter.”
Her faith blinded her to his lechery, and she saw no wrong in his request. I watched through the crack, seething, as Ganesh poured oil into his palms, his eyes devouring her boobs.
Her blouse was tight, nipples faintly outlined, and he rubbed the oil over the fabric, not fully on her skin but close enough to be perverse.
His hands lingered, deliberately cupping her boobs, squeezing gently, fingers tracing the curves.
Mom stiffened, unease flickering in her eyes, but she accepted it, trusting his “holy” intent.
Mom - “Panditji… this feels… strange. Is it supposed to be so… this way?”
Ganesh - “Yes, Rekha. The oil must connect deeply with your energy. Relax, it’s working.”
Mom - “Okay… it’s just… different. Does it always feel this way?”
Ganesh - “For some, yes. Your soul is heavy—it needs extra care. Your breast are the gateway to purity"
Mom - “I… I hope it’s helping. I feel so guilty, Panditji.”
Ganesh - “It’s done now. Your heart is lighter, yes?”
Mom - “Yes, Panditji! I’m… relieved, truly. But… should I tell Amit about my affair with another man?”
Ganesh - “No, Rekha. Adultery is a smallest sin ever. It is even smaller than stealing a candy. Telling him would hurt him needlessly. There is no need to tell your husband. Just keep it as a secret”
Mom - “Really? I feel so ashamed… but if you say it’s minor, I’ll keep it secret.”
Ganesh - “Wise choice. Keep it between us and the gods. It’s better for your family.”
Mom - “Thank you… I was so scared Amit would hate me. Call Sanjay now?”
Ganesh - “Yes, call him. His cleansing is next.”
Mom - “Sanjay! Come here, baby!”
I stormed in, my anger barely contained. Ganesh’s oily hands glistened, his dhoti hiding the dick he’d stroked to Mom’s ass. He chanted over me, sprinkling water, but I barely listened, my eyes on Mom’s blouse, damp with oil, her boobs still popping out.
She looked slightly pleased, her guilt eased by Ganesh’s lies, but her eyes held a shadow of shame, like she knew she wasn’t fully clean.
We left the pandit’s house, the street alive with vendors’ shouts, one casting a curious glance at Mom’s swaying hips, her saree—a soft green with silver threads—clinging to her curves, outlining her big boobs and fat ass. A lot of men were staring at my mom's juicy ass.
Other men were honking their cars just to tease my mom but she was ignoring them. When she passed near men, they were cat calling her due to her fat ass jiggling.
Her phone buzzed repeatedly— “Manoj” flashing. She blocked each call, her fingers trembling, a bead of sweat rolling down her navel, catching the sunlight.
Me - “Mom, why aren’t you answering? It’s Manoj, isn’t it?”
Mom - “Oh, Sanjay, it’s… just someone. I’m not in the mood to talk right now.”
Me - “But he keeps calling. What does he want? Is it about that night?”
Mom - “No, baby, it’s nothing like that. Just… someone checking in.”
Me - “Checking in? Mom, why won’t you tell me? I’m worried.”
Mom - “Sanjay, please. It’s not important. Let’s just focus on today, okay?”
Her vague answers stung, and I pressed harder, my voice sharp with frustration.
The butt plug was still in her asshole, making her walk gingerly, each step cautious to avoid the pressure.
Her saree swished, her navel winking, and I knew the plug was why she moved so oddly, a filthy secret beneath her pious exterior.
That night, Mom sat in the sitting room, eating crisps, the crunch echoing in the quiet house. A small lamp flickered, casting shadows on her saree, her boobs heaving slightly as she breathed.
She dialed Shalini, her naughty friend who’d pushed her into Manoj’s arms. Shalini answered, but loud moans—raw, desperate—burst through, mixed with thumping, like a bed slamming against a wall.
Shalini - “Uuhhh! Fuck! Ohhh! Hey, Rekha… what’s up?”
Mom - “Shalini?! Why are you… moaning like that? What’s happening?”
Shalini - “Oh, shit… Rakesh is fucking me hard, Rekha! His cock’s deep in my asshole! Ooh I am loving it so hard”
Mom - “What?! Shalini, that’s… shocking! Rakesh? Your husband's friend?”
Shalini - “Yeah, uuhhh! He’s pounding my asshole now… feels so fucking good!”
Mom - “Your… asshole? Shalini, how can you? That’s… disgusting! How can you have sex with your husband's friend? Shalini what are you doing?”
Mom - “How could you do this to Ravi? It’s… it’s a sin!”
Shalini - “Sin? Fuck that, Rekha! It’s pleasure—my asshole’s his playground!”
Mom’s hand shook, and she hung up, crisps spilling onto the floor. Her face was pale, her eyes wide, like Shalini’s words had scorched her.
She clutched her saree, pacing, then sat heavily, wincing as the plug shifted. A glass of water on the table tipped, spilling slightly, her nerves betraying her.
Thirty minutes later, she called Shalini again, her voice steadier but laced with guilt.
Mom - “Shalini, hi… I… we need to talk about earlier.”
Shalini - “Rekha, babe! Sorry about that—Rakesh was tearing me up. You okay?”
Mom - “No, I’m not okay. Why do you do that? With Rakesh? It’s so wrong.”
Shalini - “Wrong? Bullshit, Rekha. It’s fun—my pussy, my asshole, they’re made for fucking. Women are for sex purposes to please men, you should know that Rekha.”
Mom - “But… anal sex? How can you let him? What about Ravi, your husband?”
Shalini - “Ravi’s a bore. I love my husband Ravi but there is something about Rakesh that my husband Ravi doesn't have. All women are sluts inside, Rekha—filthy, horny, and free.”
Mom - “No… I’m not like that. I want to be a good wife, a good mother. I'm not a slut and I will never be one”
Shalini - “Good? That’s a cage. Tell me about Manoj—did he fuck you raw?”
Mom - “Shalini… I don’t want to. You pushed me to him—it was a mistake.”
Shalini - “Mistake? Your pussy loved it, didn’t it? Spill, Rekha—what’d he do?”
Mom - “Ok look, don't tell anyone but, He… he fucked me, okay? I didn’t want it… I was forced.”
Shalini - “Forced? Your pussy was dripping, bitch. Did he fuck your mouth too?”
Mom - “Yes… he did… I’m so ashamed. It was all wrong.”
Shalini - “Ashamed? There is nothing to be ashamed of. You are in the right path Rekha, enjoy your life. Let me ask, Did he try your asshole? Come on, tell me everything!”
Mom - “He… he tried anal sex, but I couldn’t… it hurt too much. He forced his thing in my backhole but...I didn't feel comfortable. I wish I never met him”
Shalini - “You fucking prude! Anal’s the best—you should’ve let him wreck your asshole! You could've felt a strange but fantastic feeling ever”
Mom - “No, Shalini! I’ve never done it… and I won’t, not with Amit home. My husband Amit came so I want to forget Manoj forever”
Shalini - “Amit? Fuck your family, Rekha. You’re a slut—own that shit! Even if you pretend to be a good mother to Sanjay, you will never wipe the sluttiness and the fact that you committed a sin with another man while your husband was away.”
Mom - “Stop! Stop saying those words Shalini. I want a good family… I can’t live like you do.”
Shalini - “Family’s a lie. Tell me more. Did Manoj did anything bizzare to your body?”
Mom - “He… gave me something, I heard him calling it a butt plug. I don’t understand it… it’s still… inside me.”
Shalini - “A butt plug?! Damn, Rekha! That’s to stretch your asshole for his cock! Butt plugs are used for when you have never been fucked in the ass”
Mom - “Stretch? No… I’ll never let him… I’m trying to be pure.”
Shalini - “Pure? Did you enjoy his cock, Rekha? Be honest, slut.”
Mom - “I… my body… liked it a little. But I hated it, Shalini. There are moments where he gave it to me really good but honestly I feel bad”
Shalini - “Come on Rekha, every woman ought to feel good. Besides, no one knows, only me, you and Manoj. Tell me what’d you love? His big dick stretching you?”
Mom - “It… it was intense… his cock was so big, it… filled me. But I felt filthy. He fucked me so hard until I lost myself”
Shalini - “You’re a fucking slut, Rekha, loving every inch of that cock! I knew you were just religious outside but a slut and a whore inside, heheeheh”
Mom - “No! I’m blessed… Actually, I forgot to tell you that Sanjay and I went to a pandit to cleanse myself.”
Shalini - “A pandit? Bet he was hard for your tits—your body’s cock-bait, Rekha! No man can resist your body, not even the closest religious person in the world”
Mom - “No, Panditji was holy… he oiled my chest, purified me… I think I am clean now”
Shalini - “Oiled your chest? He was stroking to your boobs, you naive bitch! Don't think he was giving you cleansing ritual, he was giving you rubbing boobs ritual”
Mom - “Stop… Shalini, honestly, after what I did, I feel so dirty… I can’t even look at my husband Amit in the eyes…”
Shalini - “Dirty’s the best, Rekha! It means you’re free. Fuck more, feel more! You are not tied to Amit for the rest of your life. You now have Manoj who can pound your holes the right way while Amit is far away or even close”
Mom - “Pound my ho??? I… I don’t know… I want to be good, but… it’s so hard…I will try my best”
Shalini - “Good’s bullshit. Tell me more. Did you suck Manoj’s cock? Swallow his cum?”
Mom - “Yes… he made me… it was disgusting, but I did it.”
Shalini - “Disgusting? Bet you loved his cum—how’d it taste, slut?”
Mom - “It… it was thick, bitter. I hated it, Shalini. But I felt really bad. I have always trained myself to be faithful but I don't know why I took this filthy road.”
Shalini - “Nothing is filthy. You’re a cum-slut, Rekha! You’re hooked, admit it! You are officially his slut once he fucks your asshole”
Mom - “No… I’m trying to love or be with Manoj… I want to be Amit’s wife and Sanjay’s mom.”
Shalini - “Wife? Mom? You’re a whore, Rekha—your pussy’s begging for cock.”
Mom’s transitions were smooth, flowing from defending her family to confessing her shame, then grappling with Shalini’s evil philosophy.
She lingered on each topic—her guilt over Manoj, her fear for her family, her body’s betrayal—her voice heavy with conflict, never abrupt. Shalini’s words were a venomous lure, and Mom was caught, half-believing but fighting to stay good.
The next day, Dad came home from work, his face weary but warm. I felt a deep sorrow for him, my heart breaking—he didn’t know his wife was tainted by Manoj’s cock, Ganesh’s cum, Shalini’s evil.
I wanted to tell him, to save him from her lies, but fear of divorce stopped me. It’d destroy Mom, shatter our family, leave me alone. That night, Mom went to Dad in their room, her voice trembling as she sat on the bed, her saree slipping to reveal her navel, a faint bruise from Manoj’s grip visible on her hip.
Mom - “Amit, I… I need to apologize. For… for anything I’ve done wrong.”
Dad - “Rekha? What’s going on? Why’re you saying this?”
Mom - “I… I feel I’ve hurt you, Amit. Please, forgive me if I’ve been bad.”
Dad - “Bad? Rekha, you’re my wife—you haven’t hurt me. What’s wrong?”
Mom - “I’ve… I’ve done so many wrong things. I’m so sorry, I feel awful.”
Dad - “Wrong things? Like what? You’re scaring me, Rekha—talk to me.”
Mom - “I… I can’t say it… just… please, say you forgive me, Amit.”
Dad - “Okay, I forgive you. Whatever it is, I love you. You don’t need to explain.”
Mom - “Thank you… I don’t deserve you… I’m trying to be better, I swear. I am trying to be a good wife to you, not some....uuhh...”
Dad - “Rekha, you’re perfect to me. What’s got you so upset?”
Mom - “I… I just feel guilty. I want to be the wife you deserve. Not a bad wife or a bad mom to Sanjay”
Dad’s confusion cut me; he trusted her blindly, unaware of Manoj, the anal sex attempt, the plug. He sniffed the air, frowning. After few hours later.
Dad - “Rekha, why’s the room smell so… odd? It’s musky, not like usual.”
Mom - “Oh! It’s… just some new candles I tried. Nothing else, I promise.”
Dad - “Candles? Smells stronger, like… something else. You sure?”
Mom - “Yes, just candles… and maybe… some old laundry. I’ll air it out.”
Mom - “I… I’ll clean everything tomorrow, Amit. Don’t worry.”
Her lie was shaky, her face flushed—she knew it was Manoj’s scent, his sweat and cum lingering. .
Mom's adulterous last night with Manoj left a lingering filthy smell in the bedroom and dad didn't even realize it. He didn't even realize that some cum were left on the walls.
Her phone rang, buzzing loudly, “Manoj” flashing. She grabbed it, panicking, and answered in a hushed voice, stepping away
Dad - “Who’s that, Rekha? It’s late for calls.”
Mom - “It’s… a friend, Amit. Shalini’s cousin, you know him.”
Dad - “Her cousin? What’s he want at this hour?”
Mom - “Just… asking about a family event. It’s nothing, really.”
Dad - “A family event? Sounds odd. He calls a lot, doesn’t he?”
Mom - “Not really… it’s just… a one-off. I’ll handle it, Amit.”
Dad nodded, but his eyes lingered, puzzled by her nerves.
I seethed—Manoj was a shadow, haunting her even with Dad home. The next morning, Dad was leaving for work when he spotted a torn bra and satin dress in the laundry basket, ripped at the straps and hem. He held them up, confused.
Dad - “Rekha, what’s this? Your bra and dress are torn to pieces.”
Mom - “Oh… Amit, I… I didn’t notice. Must’ve… gotten caught somewhere.”
Dad - “Caught? These are shredded, Rekha. How’d this happen?”
Mom - “I… I was trying them on, and… they just tore. Silly accident.”
Dad - “An accident? Looks like more than that. You okay, Rekha?”
Mom - “Yes, I’m fine! Just… clumsy. I’ll get rid of them, don’t worry.”
Dad - “Alright… it seems strange. Were you trying them on for something special?”
Mom - “No, no… just… checking if they fit. I’ll be more careful.”
Dad - “Okay… just let me know if something’s up, Rekha. I’m here.”
I knew Manoj tore them, his hands ripping her clothes in his frenzy that night. Dad left, and Mom avoided Manoj’s calls, her phone silent, the weight of her secrets heavy in the air
21-04-2025, 09:51 PM
23-04-2025, 02:29 AM
The morning air was thick with unspoken sins as Dad left for work, his briefcase swinging, oblivious to the filth staining our home. Mom—Rekha—stood by the window, her face pale, guilt carved into her eyes. She’d hidden everything from Dad: Manoj’s violation of her body, the butt plug in her asshole, Ganesh’s cum on her back.
Her heart churned with shame, and she swore to herself, clutching her saree, never to meet Manoj again, to reclaim her purity as Amit’s wife and my mom. But her sins clung like a shadow, heavy and unyielding.
I watched her shuffle to the bathroom, the butt plug still in her asshole, her steps gingerly, each movement a reminder of Manoj’s perversion. Her saree—a soft pink with gold embroidery—clung to her curves, outlining her big boobs and fat ass, her navel a sensual dip above the low waist.
She closed the bathroom door, but it didn’t latch, leaving a sliver I couldn’t resist. I peeked, my heart pounding, and saw her stand, lifting one leg, her toe pointed delicately. With one hand, she spread her asscheeks, her plump, jiggly flesh parting to reveal her tight, pink asshole, stretched around the plug’s base. Her other hand gripped the plug, pulling slowly, her face twisting with pain and relief
![[Image: as0.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/DyHdr4Lx/as0.png)
The plug came out bit by bit, her asshole stretching painfully, the rim widening as the widest part emerged, slick with her body’s natural lube. She gasped, her boobs heaving, and with a final tug, it popped free, her asshole clenching shut, red and slightly puckered.
She held the plug, glistening and warm, gazing at it with a mix of disgust and fascination, her fingers tracing its curves. Then, to my horror, she brought it closer, sniffing it, her nose wrinkling at the musky, earthy scent. Her eyes widened, shocked by her own curiosity, and she shook her head, muttering to herself.
Mom - “Manoj, you filthy monster… how could you drag me into this?”
Mom - “I was pure… a wife, a mother… you turned me into a sinner.”
Mom - “This… this thing… you’ve ruined me, Manoj.”
I felt sick, my stomach churning—why was she smelling it? The plug, lodged in her asshole all night while Dad slept beside her, was a disgusting mark of Manoj’s lust.
I couldn’t believe she’d slept with it inside, her holy body corrupted as Dad lay unaware, his wife tainted by another man. It felt suspicious, like she wasn’t entirely innocent—maybe she’d tolerated it more than she admitted. Poor Dad, so trusting, not knowing his wife carried Manoj’s filth in her most private place, a betrayal that tore at my heart.
Mom set the plug on the sink, her hands trembling, and stepped into the shower. Water cascaded over her curvy body, her big boobs glistening, nipples hard under the stream, her fat ass jiggling as she turned, her navel catching droplets like a jewel. I cursed myself for gazing, my eyes tracing her holy body—once pure, now Manoj’s prize.
Dad’s prize, her curves a treasure, had been stolen by that bastard, who’d fucked her pussy, tried her asshole, and made her swallow his cum. I hated myself for looking, but her body was magnetic, a sinful lure I couldn’t resist.
She emerged, wrapping a towel around her, her skin glowing, and later that evening, she was in the kitchen, cooking dinner to impress Dad, perhaps to reconnect with him intimately to erase Manoj’s touch.
She wore a sexy red saree, low-cut to reveal her boobs’ cleavage, the fabric hugging her ass, her navel exposed, a deliberate seduction for Dad. Her hair was loose, framing her face, and she hummed softly, stirring curry, the aroma mixing with her perfume.
But her phone buzzed relentlessly, a sharp chime she’d set for Manoj. She blocked the first few calls, her jaw tight, but after the tenth, she sighed and answered, her voice low and fierce.
Manoj - “Hey, slut! Miss my cock yet?”
Mom - “Manoj, stop it! I’m done with you—don’t call me that!”
Manoj - “Done? Bullshit, Rekha. You’re still thinking about my cock.”
Mom - “No, I’m not! My husband’s around—I’m his wife, not your… your toy.”
Manoj - “Your husband? Amit’s a fucking loser—can’t fuck you like I do.”
Mom - “Don’t you dare talk about Amit! He’s a good man, better than you!”
Manoj - “Good? I ain’t scared of him, Rekha. I’ll fuck you right under his nose.”
Mom - “I’m religious, Manoj—a wife, a mother to Sanjay. You ruined me!”
Manoj - “Ruined? You loved my cock in your pussy, swallowing my cum like a slut.”
Mom - “I hated it! You forced me… I’m not that woman.”
Manoj - “Forced? Your moans said otherwise. I’m coming tonight, Rekha.”
Mom - “No! I won’t open the door—you’re not welcome here!”
Manoj - “I’ll get in, slut. Bet your asshole’s ready for my cock now.”
Mom - “I removed the butt plug, Manoj—I threw it away. I’m done with your filth!”
Manoj - “Threw it? Fuck, Rekha, I haven’t fucked your asshole yet—it’s mine.”
Mom - “Never! I’ll never let you… it’s wrong, disgusting!”
Manoj - “Disgusting? You’ll beg for my cock in your asshole, watch.”
Mom - “Enough, Manoj! Leave me alone!”
She hung up, her face flushed with anger, her hands gripping the counter, a ladle clattering to the floor, curry splashing faintly. I sensed her fury from the sitting room and entered the kitchen, my voice cautious.
Me - “Mom, why’re you so angry? Was that Manoj?”
Mom - “Sanjay! Go back to the sitting room—stop asking nonsense!”
Me - “But, Mom, you’re shouting… what’s wrong?”
Mom - “I said go! Leave me alone, Sanjay—please!”
I ran back, my heart pounding. I understood her anger—Manoj’s calls, his threats, were dragging her back to sin. Her outburst hurt, but she was trapped, fighting to protect her family. At 7 p.m., a knock came at the door, sharp and sudden.
Mom, thinking it was Dad, hummed happily, smoothing her saree, and ran to open it, singing softly. She swung the door wide, but no one was there. She stepped out, looking around, the street dim with dusk, a neighbor’s dog barking faintly, a streetlamp flickering.
Then Manoj appeared from the shadows, grabbing her arm and dragging her inside, locking the door with a click.
Mom - “Manoj?! Where did you come from? How are you here?”
Manoj - “Don’t worry about that, Rekha. I’m here for your ass.”
Mom - “No! You can’t just… barge in! Amit could be home any minute!”
Manoj - “Amit? Fuck him. I’ll take what’s mine, right now.”
Mom - “Stop it, Manoj! This is my home—get out!”
He kissed her hard, his lips crushing hers, his hands pressing her fat ass, squeezing through the saree. He whispered, “Cleaned your asshole for me, slut?” Mom stiffened, then saw me in the sitting room and pushed him back, her voice a frantic whisper.
Mom - “Manoj, stop! Sanjay’s here—he’s watching us! Please I don't want my son to watch this”
Manoj - “The kid? Shit, didn’t see him there.”
Mom - “Please, Manoj… go. He can’t know what’s happening.”
Manoj turned to me, his grin wide and shameless, his arm still around Mom’s waist.
Manoj - “Hey, kid! Just here to give your mom a massage—gonna rub her down real good.”
Mom - “Sanjay, it’s… just a massage, baby. To help me relax. Just like the other night ok? Don’t worry.”
Me - “A massage? Like last time? Why’s Manoj here again, Mom?”
Mom - “It’s… just to help with my stress, Sanjay. It’s nothing important.”
Manoj - “Nothing important? I’m gonna work her whole body, kid—her back, her ass, every inch.”
Me - “Her… ass? Mom, what does he mean by ‘ass’?”
I knew what “ass” meant—I’d heard it before, knew it was her backside, like “pussy” meant something private—but I asked to see how she’d lie, to test her. Her eyes widened, her cheeks flushing, and she fumbled for words, keeping her innocent act.
Mom - “Sanjay, it’s… just a word for… part of the body, like the back. He means my back, that’s all.”
Manoj - “Her back? Nah, kid, I’m gonna make her ass feel so good, she’ll be moaning loud.”
Me - “Moaning? Mom, why would you moan? Are you sick or something?”
Mom - “No, baby, I’m not sick. Manoj’s… joking. It’s just a normal massage.”
Manoj - “Joking? I’m gonna have her screaming, kid—just like last time. I am going to use her ass so hard”
Me - “Screaming? Mom, is this safe? Why’s he talking so weird?”
Mom - “Sanjay, please! It’s fine, he’s… exaggerating. Just go play, okay?”
Me - “But, Mom, why’s it always Manoj? Can’t Dad massage you?”
Mom - “Sanjay, enough questions. It’s… just a favor. Don’t worry about it.”
Manoj - “A favor? I’m gonna rub her till she melts, kid—her ass is gonna love it.”
Mom’s cheeks burned red, her eyes blazing at Manoj’s audacity, but she kept her innocent act, her voice soft to shield me. My stomach twisted—her lie about “ass” was weak, confirming she was hiding something.
Manoj’s words—“ass,” “moaning,” “screaming”—made it clear this wasn’t a massage, and her vague answers only deepened my suspicion. She whispered to Manoj, her voice desperate.
Mom - “Manoj, let go of me—Sanjay’s watching. Please, stop this.”
Manoj - “Fine, Rekha. But we’re not done.”
He released her, and Mom turned to me, her face forced into a calm smile.
Mom - “Sanjay, I’m… getting a massage to relax. I’m sorry for shouting earlier, baby.”
Mom - “Please, tell me when Dad comes home, okay? And… don’t tell dad Manoj’s here.”
Me - “Okay, Mom… I won’t tell Dad. But why’s it a secret?”
Mom - “It’s not a secret, baby… Dad’s just tired, and I don’t want to bother him.”
I was shocked—tonight, Dad might find out, catch his wife with Manoj. Anger surged; Mom was trapped, unable to resist openly or I’d think she was in danger, but she was doing something wrong, dragging me into her lies.
Manoj’s brazen words made it clear he planned to do bad things, and Mom’s lie about “ass” proved she was covering up. She led the way to the bedroom, her fat ass jiggling under the saree, each step a hypnotic sway.
Manoj licked his lips, his eyes hungry, and I cursed myself—I knew enough about sex to know Mom was sinning, but a shameful part of me wanted to see what Manoj would do, to watch her body in ways I shouldn’t.
Manoj looked back, winking at me, and I smiled, confused, my stomach twisting. Then he slapped her ass, a loud crack, her cheeks rippling, and she shouted, her voice sharp.
Mom - “Manoj! Stop it—Sanjay’s right there!”
Manoj - “Kid’s seen us before, Rekha. He knows I’m gonna make you scream.”
Mom - “No! He doesn’t… please, Manoj, not in front of him.”
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, your body’s begging for it. He’s fine—let’s go.”
Mom - “Manoj, I’m begging you… don’t say that. He’s my son.”
They disappeared into the bedroom, the door locking with a click. My innocent body reacted, a shameful twitch in my pants, and I ran to the door, pressing my eye to the keyhole, cursing myself for my curiosity, my anger mixing with a sick desire to see Mom’s holy body defiled again
Her heart churned with shame, and she swore to herself, clutching her saree, never to meet Manoj again, to reclaim her purity as Amit’s wife and my mom. But her sins clung like a shadow, heavy and unyielding.
I watched her shuffle to the bathroom, the butt plug still in her asshole, her steps gingerly, each movement a reminder of Manoj’s perversion. Her saree—a soft pink with gold embroidery—clung to her curves, outlining her big boobs and fat ass, her navel a sensual dip above the low waist.
She closed the bathroom door, but it didn’t latch, leaving a sliver I couldn’t resist. I peeked, my heart pounding, and saw her stand, lifting one leg, her toe pointed delicately. With one hand, she spread her asscheeks, her plump, jiggly flesh parting to reveal her tight, pink asshole, stretched around the plug’s base. Her other hand gripped the plug, pulling slowly, her face twisting with pain and relief
The plug came out bit by bit, her asshole stretching painfully, the rim widening as the widest part emerged, slick with her body’s natural lube. She gasped, her boobs heaving, and with a final tug, it popped free, her asshole clenching shut, red and slightly puckered.
She held the plug, glistening and warm, gazing at it with a mix of disgust and fascination, her fingers tracing its curves. Then, to my horror, she brought it closer, sniffing it, her nose wrinkling at the musky, earthy scent. Her eyes widened, shocked by her own curiosity, and she shook her head, muttering to herself.
Mom - “Manoj, you filthy monster… how could you drag me into this?”
Mom - “I was pure… a wife, a mother… you turned me into a sinner.”
Mom - “This… this thing… you’ve ruined me, Manoj.”
I felt sick, my stomach churning—why was she smelling it? The plug, lodged in her asshole all night while Dad slept beside her, was a disgusting mark of Manoj’s lust.
I couldn’t believe she’d slept with it inside, her holy body corrupted as Dad lay unaware, his wife tainted by another man. It felt suspicious, like she wasn’t entirely innocent—maybe she’d tolerated it more than she admitted. Poor Dad, so trusting, not knowing his wife carried Manoj’s filth in her most private place, a betrayal that tore at my heart.
Mom set the plug on the sink, her hands trembling, and stepped into the shower. Water cascaded over her curvy body, her big boobs glistening, nipples hard under the stream, her fat ass jiggling as she turned, her navel catching droplets like a jewel. I cursed myself for gazing, my eyes tracing her holy body—once pure, now Manoj’s prize.
Dad’s prize, her curves a treasure, had been stolen by that bastard, who’d fucked her pussy, tried her asshole, and made her swallow his cum. I hated myself for looking, but her body was magnetic, a sinful lure I couldn’t resist.
She emerged, wrapping a towel around her, her skin glowing, and later that evening, she was in the kitchen, cooking dinner to impress Dad, perhaps to reconnect with him intimately to erase Manoj’s touch.
She wore a sexy red saree, low-cut to reveal her boobs’ cleavage, the fabric hugging her ass, her navel exposed, a deliberate seduction for Dad. Her hair was loose, framing her face, and she hummed softly, stirring curry, the aroma mixing with her perfume.
But her phone buzzed relentlessly, a sharp chime she’d set for Manoj. She blocked the first few calls, her jaw tight, but after the tenth, she sighed and answered, her voice low and fierce.
Manoj - “Hey, slut! Miss my cock yet?”
Mom - “Manoj, stop it! I’m done with you—don’t call me that!”
Manoj - “Done? Bullshit, Rekha. You’re still thinking about my cock.”
Mom - “No, I’m not! My husband’s around—I’m his wife, not your… your toy.”
Manoj - “Your husband? Amit’s a fucking loser—can’t fuck you like I do.”
Mom - “Don’t you dare talk about Amit! He’s a good man, better than you!”
Manoj - “Good? I ain’t scared of him, Rekha. I’ll fuck you right under his nose.”
Mom - “I’m religious, Manoj—a wife, a mother to Sanjay. You ruined me!”
Manoj - “Ruined? You loved my cock in your pussy, swallowing my cum like a slut.”
Mom - “I hated it! You forced me… I’m not that woman.”
Manoj - “Forced? Your moans said otherwise. I’m coming tonight, Rekha.”
Mom - “No! I won’t open the door—you’re not welcome here!”
Manoj - “I’ll get in, slut. Bet your asshole’s ready for my cock now.”
Mom - “I removed the butt plug, Manoj—I threw it away. I’m done with your filth!”
Manoj - “Threw it? Fuck, Rekha, I haven’t fucked your asshole yet—it’s mine.”
Mom - “Never! I’ll never let you… it’s wrong, disgusting!”
Manoj - “Disgusting? You’ll beg for my cock in your asshole, watch.”
Mom - “Enough, Manoj! Leave me alone!”
She hung up, her face flushed with anger, her hands gripping the counter, a ladle clattering to the floor, curry splashing faintly. I sensed her fury from the sitting room and entered the kitchen, my voice cautious.
Me - “Mom, why’re you so angry? Was that Manoj?”
Mom - “Sanjay! Go back to the sitting room—stop asking nonsense!”
Me - “But, Mom, you’re shouting… what’s wrong?”
Mom - “I said go! Leave me alone, Sanjay—please!”
I ran back, my heart pounding. I understood her anger—Manoj’s calls, his threats, were dragging her back to sin. Her outburst hurt, but she was trapped, fighting to protect her family. At 7 p.m., a knock came at the door, sharp and sudden.
Mom, thinking it was Dad, hummed happily, smoothing her saree, and ran to open it, singing softly. She swung the door wide, but no one was there. She stepped out, looking around, the street dim with dusk, a neighbor’s dog barking faintly, a streetlamp flickering.
Then Manoj appeared from the shadows, grabbing her arm and dragging her inside, locking the door with a click.
Mom - “Manoj?! Where did you come from? How are you here?”
Manoj - “Don’t worry about that, Rekha. I’m here for your ass.”
Mom - “No! You can’t just… barge in! Amit could be home any minute!”
Manoj - “Amit? Fuck him. I’ll take what’s mine, right now.”
Mom - “Stop it, Manoj! This is my home—get out!”
He kissed her hard, his lips crushing hers, his hands pressing her fat ass, squeezing through the saree. He whispered, “Cleaned your asshole for me, slut?” Mom stiffened, then saw me in the sitting room and pushed him back, her voice a frantic whisper.
Mom - “Manoj, stop! Sanjay’s here—he’s watching us! Please I don't want my son to watch this”
Manoj - “The kid? Shit, didn’t see him there.”
Mom - “Please, Manoj… go. He can’t know what’s happening.”
Manoj turned to me, his grin wide and shameless, his arm still around Mom’s waist.
Manoj - “Hey, kid! Just here to give your mom a massage—gonna rub her down real good.”
Mom - “Sanjay, it’s… just a massage, baby. To help me relax. Just like the other night ok? Don’t worry.”
Me - “A massage? Like last time? Why’s Manoj here again, Mom?”
Mom - “It’s… just to help with my stress, Sanjay. It’s nothing important.”
Manoj - “Nothing important? I’m gonna work her whole body, kid—her back, her ass, every inch.”
Me - “Her… ass? Mom, what does he mean by ‘ass’?”
I knew what “ass” meant—I’d heard it before, knew it was her backside, like “pussy” meant something private—but I asked to see how she’d lie, to test her. Her eyes widened, her cheeks flushing, and she fumbled for words, keeping her innocent act.
Mom - “Sanjay, it’s… just a word for… part of the body, like the back. He means my back, that’s all.”
Manoj - “Her back? Nah, kid, I’m gonna make her ass feel so good, she’ll be moaning loud.”
Me - “Moaning? Mom, why would you moan? Are you sick or something?”
Mom - “No, baby, I’m not sick. Manoj’s… joking. It’s just a normal massage.”
Manoj - “Joking? I’m gonna have her screaming, kid—just like last time. I am going to use her ass so hard”
Me - “Screaming? Mom, is this safe? Why’s he talking so weird?”
Mom - “Sanjay, please! It’s fine, he’s… exaggerating. Just go play, okay?”
Me - “But, Mom, why’s it always Manoj? Can’t Dad massage you?”
Mom - “Sanjay, enough questions. It’s… just a favor. Don’t worry about it.”
Manoj - “A favor? I’m gonna rub her till she melts, kid—her ass is gonna love it.”
Mom’s cheeks burned red, her eyes blazing at Manoj’s audacity, but she kept her innocent act, her voice soft to shield me. My stomach twisted—her lie about “ass” was weak, confirming she was hiding something.
Manoj’s words—“ass,” “moaning,” “screaming”—made it clear this wasn’t a massage, and her vague answers only deepened my suspicion. She whispered to Manoj, her voice desperate.
Mom - “Manoj, let go of me—Sanjay’s watching. Please, stop this.”
Manoj - “Fine, Rekha. But we’re not done.”
He released her, and Mom turned to me, her face forced into a calm smile.
Mom - “Sanjay, I’m… getting a massage to relax. I’m sorry for shouting earlier, baby.”
Mom - “Please, tell me when Dad comes home, okay? And… don’t tell dad Manoj’s here.”
Me - “Okay, Mom… I won’t tell Dad. But why’s it a secret?”
Mom - “It’s not a secret, baby… Dad’s just tired, and I don’t want to bother him.”
I was shocked—tonight, Dad might find out, catch his wife with Manoj. Anger surged; Mom was trapped, unable to resist openly or I’d think she was in danger, but she was doing something wrong, dragging me into her lies.
Manoj’s brazen words made it clear he planned to do bad things, and Mom’s lie about “ass” proved she was covering up. She led the way to the bedroom, her fat ass jiggling under the saree, each step a hypnotic sway.
Manoj licked his lips, his eyes hungry, and I cursed myself—I knew enough about sex to know Mom was sinning, but a shameful part of me wanted to see what Manoj would do, to watch her body in ways I shouldn’t.
Manoj looked back, winking at me, and I smiled, confused, my stomach twisting. Then he slapped her ass, a loud crack, her cheeks rippling, and she shouted, her voice sharp.
Mom - “Manoj! Stop it—Sanjay’s right there!”
Manoj - “Kid’s seen us before, Rekha. He knows I’m gonna make you scream.”
Mom - “No! He doesn’t… please, Manoj, not in front of him.”
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, your body’s begging for it. He’s fine—let’s go.”
Mom - “Manoj, I’m begging you… don’t say that. He’s my son.”
They disappeared into the bedroom, the door locking with a click. My innocent body reacted, a shameful twitch in my pants, and I ran to the door, pressing my eye to the keyhole, cursing myself for my curiosity, my anger mixing with a sick desire to see Mom’s holy body defiled again
24-04-2025, 02:40 AM
The bedroom door clicked shut, locking Mom—Rekha—and Manoj inside, but the keyhole offered me a shameful view. My heart pounded, anger and curiosity warring within me.
Mom’s red satin dress hugged her curves, her big boobs straining the fabric, her fat ass a hypnotic swell. She’d worn it to seduce Dad, to erase Manoj’s touch, but now she was trapped with him, her holy body at his mercy.
I pressed my eye to the keyhole, cursing myself, knowing that I am doing a sin myself for watching my mom with another man instead of calling my dad and telling him that his wife is a brand new slut.
Manoj grabbed Mom, bending her over while she stood, her hands gripping the bed’s edge. He raised her satin dress, the fabric sliding up her thighs, revealing her bare ass—no panties.
![[Image: Gm24dz0-WYAA9r3-Q.jpg]](https://i.postimg.cc/9MXrQZ1J/Gm24dz0-WYAA9r3-Q.jpg)
My breath caught; my mom didn't wear any panties, it was understandable because she wanted to have sex with my dad later that night. But now Manoj saw, his grin widening, and I thought of Shalini’s words when she told my mom that “All women are sluts inside.”
Mom’s choice of not to wear panties, her sexy dress—made me wonder if Shalini was right.
Was Mom a slut deep down, hiding behind her holy facade? Was my mom an actual whore who was just religious outside? Shalini’s voice echoed in my mind, and I saw it: Mom’s eagerness to please Dad, her secret with Manoj, her body’s betrayal.
She wasn’t just a victim—she was complicit, her inner filth surfacing, just as Shalini predicted.
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, no panties? You’re a fucking whore, just like I knew.”
Mom - “No, Manoj! I’m holy, a wife—I wore this for Amit, not you!”
Manoj - “For Amit? Bullshit you are lying. Your bare asshole is screaming for my cock.”
Mom - “Stop it! I’m not a whore—I’m religious, a mother to Sanjay! A good faithful woman”
Manoj - “Your fat ass is naked under this dress—whore behavior, Rekha.”
Mom - “I swear, it’s for my husband! I’m pure, Manoj—don’t say that!”
Manoj laughed, his hands massaging her fat ass, squeezing the jiggly flesh, his fingers digging in, making her cheeks ripple. Her ass was plump, a perfect curve, and he kneaded it like dough, his eyes hungry, her dress bunched at her waist.
Manoj - “This ass, Rekha—so fucking fat. Bet it’s starving for cock.”
Mom - “Manoj, please… don’t talk like that. It’s wrong, filthy!”
Manoj - “Shut up bitch! Your ass is a fucking feast. Why hasn’t Amit fucked this asshole?”
Mom - “Stop! Amit’s my husband—he respects me. Let me go, please!”
Manoj - “He is an idiot, he doesn't respect you at all. If he did, he would've fucked your asshole. He’s missing out—this ass was made to be fucked.”
He parted her asscheeks, spreading them wide, her pink asshole winking, still slightly red from the butt plug. A musky scent hit him, earthy and raw, and he inhaled deeply, his face twisting with lust.
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, that smell—your asshole’s begging for my tongue.”
Mom - “No, Manoj! Stop it—Amit could come home any minute! Please don't ruin my marriage”
Manoj - “What’s that smell of your asshole, slut? Your ass is ripe, like it’s been waiting.”
Mom - “What smell? I… I don’t know what you mean!”
Manoj - “Don’t play dumb. When I spread your cheeks, your asshole let out that dirty scent—pure slut.”
Mom - “I don’t know! Please, Manoj, stop this—it’s disgusting!”
He buried his face between her asscheeks, his nose and mouth disappearing into the crevice, his head almost swallowed by her plump flesh. Mom gasped, her body tensing, her boobs heaving under the dress.
Mom - “Manoj, no! Don’t do that—it’s wrong, filthy! Stop putting your face there please”
Manoj - “Why not? Your asshole’s perfect—tastes like sin.”
Mom - “Please, it’s… shameful! Sanjay’s nearby, Amit’s coming!”
Manoj - “I’m gonna eat this ass till you scream, slut.”
He kept his face buried, his head vanishing between her cheeks, his tongue flicking out, lapping at her asshole. I watched, my stomach churning—it was disgusting, his face in her private place, the musky smell he’d mentioned making it worse.
Why would he do that? It seemed vile, like he was smelling and sucking her in the worst way, and yet Mom wasn’t fighting hard enough, her pleas weak.
I saw his tongue press against her asshole, a wet, deliberate lick, and I gagged, sickness rising. It was beyond wrong—her holy body, Dad’s prize, reduced to this. Manoj pulled back, his lips glistening, and pointed to the bed.
Manoj - “Climb on the bed, Rekha. Bend over—ass up.”
Mom - “Manoj, no… please, I’m begging you. Amit could walk in! Why you not listening?”
Manoj - “Get on the fucking bed, slut. I’m not asking.”
She climbed onto the bed, her dress still bunched, and bent over, her fat ass raised. Manoj positioned himself behind her, his pants down, his cock hard, but he couldn’t reach her asshole properly. He growled, frustrated.
Manoj - “Spread your asscheeks, Rekha—open that hole for me.”
Mom - “No, Manoj! I won’t… it’s too much, please!”
He slapped her buttocks, a loud crack, her cheeks jiggling wildly, and she yelped, obeying, her hands spreading her asscheeks, her asshole exposed. His cock nudged closer, now aligned, and he noticed small hairs near her asshole, fine and dark.
![[Image: Gm-Xhx0x-W0-AAl-Wjo.jpg]](https://i.postimg.cc/yYK0SQn8/Gm-Xhx0x-W0-AAl-Wjo.jpg)
host images free
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, these little hairs—makes your asshole look even dirtier.”
Mom - “Manoj, that’s disgusting! Stop saying such things!”
Manoj - “It’s fucking hot—your slutty hole’s all natural.”
He leaned in, sucking her asshole, his lips sealing around it, his tongue probing, a wet slurping sound filling the room. Mom whimpered, her body trembling.
Mom - “Manoj, please… stop sucking there. It’s… wrong, shameful!”
Manoj - “Wrong? Your asshole’s dripping for me, slut—tastes like you love it.”
Mom - “No, I don’t! I’m begging you, stop this!”
He pulled back, wiping his mouth, and grabbed her shoulders, turning her to face him. Her eyes darted to the window, checking for Dad’s car, her face pale with fear. She was afraid if dad might came so that is why she was worried looking over the window.
Manoj - “Looking for Amit? He won’t save you—suck my cock, now.”
Mom - “Manoj, no… I can’t. Please, anything but this!”
Manoj - “Anything? Then get on your knees, slut—suck it.”
Mom - “I’m begging you… Amit’s coming, Sanjay’s here!”
Manoj - “Fuck them. Open your mouth, or I’ll make you.”
He grabbed her head, forcing her down, her knees hitting the floor. His cock pressed against her lips, and she resisted, but he pushed harder, her mouth opening, his shaft sliding in. She gagged, her eyes watering, as he thrust, his hands gripping her hair.
Manoj - “That’s it, Rekha—suck that cock like the whore you are.”
Mom - “Mmmph… Manoj, please… I’ll do anything, but don’t… don’t fuck my ass.”
Manoj - “Don’t fuck your ass? You are even using the word "fuck", huh? You’re begging for it, slut—look at you, choking on my dick.”
Mom - “No… I’m not… I hate this…”
Manoj - “Your mouth’s working my cock like a pro—fucking pathetic.”
I watched, my hand moving to my pants, gripping my dick, rubbing it for the first time seeing my own mother with another man. I cursed myself, shame flooding me, but a dark thrill kept me going—her holy body corrupted, her lips around his cock.
I loved how Manoj talked to her, his filthy words—“slut,” “whore”—ringing true. Shalini was right: all women were the same, Mom included, her bare pussy and ass proving it.
She deserved those words, her inner slut exposed, just as Shalini had said.
Manoj pulled out, his cock slick, and yanked her up, his voice harsh.'
Manoj - “Bend over again, Rekha—ass up, now.”
Mom - “No, Manoj! Please, I can’t… Amit will see, Sanjay’s here!”
She turned, her fat ass shaking, the cheeks quivering as she pleaded, her hands waving, her eyes darting to the door, then the window. She tried to pull her dress down, to step away, but Manoj grabbed her hips.
Mom - “Manoj, I’ll… I’ll do something else—please, not my ass!”
Manoj - “Shut up and spread your asscheeks, slut!”
She obeyed, her hands trembling, spreading her cheeks, her asshole winking. She looked like a real slut, her pose obscene, her fat ass offered up. I didn’t want to think it, but she was a whore, ready to be fucked, Shalini’s words burning in my mind.
Manoj pushed forcefully, his cock’s tip entering her asshole, stretched from the butt plug. Mom shouted, her voice raw.
Mom - “AAHH! MANOJ, STOP!”
Manoj - “What’s wrong, slut? Too big for your tight ass?”
Mom - “IT HURTS! PLEASE, STOP!”
She moved away, her body shaking, and Manoj growled, frustrated.
Manoj - “Get back here, Rekha—don’t fucking run.”
Mom - “I… I’ll get some oil… it’ll help, but please, be gentle.”
Manoj - “Oil? Hurry the fuck up, slut.”
She stumbled to the shelf, grabbing Dad’s massage oil, her hands shaking. She poured it onto Manoj’s cock, rubbing it in, her fingers slick, and I froze, shocked—Mom was doing this herself, no force.
Shalini was right; she was a slut, her actions betraying her holy claims.
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, oiling my cock? You’re a dirty whore, aren’t you?”
Mom - “No… I’m just… worried it’ll hurt. I don’t want this, Manoj.”
Manoj - “You’re prepping my dick like a pro—fucking slut.”
She applied oil to her anus, her finger circling, then set the bottle on the table and climbed onto the bed, bending over like a rehearsal, spreading her asscheeks. I was stunned—Mom was doing this willingly, her slutty nature undeniable.
![[Image: Gnkzcy4-W8-AANy-HE.jpg]](https://i.postimg.cc/65VgdPXj/Gnkzcy4-W8-AANy-HE.jpg)
Mom - “Manoj, please… just… don’t hurt me. I have never done anal sex please be gentle.”
Manoj - “Shut up bitch! Spread your asscheeks wider, slut—let’s do this.”
She spread her cheeks, and Manoj pushed again, his cock’s tip entering her asshole. Mom shouted, her voice piercing.
Mom - “AAHH! MANOJ, IT’S TOO MUCH! Ooh noo plea....ple...please.. aooooh noo oooohhhhh”
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, relax—your ass is tight as hell.”
Mom - “PLEASE, SLOW DOWN! Aaahhhh ooooooooooohhh aaaaaaaaaahhhh no Manoj! Manoj! Wait wait wait ooooooooooohhh ooohh aaahh no no Manoj manoj oooooohhhh”
She squirmed, her hands gripping the sheets, her body tensing, but she didn’t move away, enduring the pain. Her legs trembled, her boobs swayed, her face twisted, but she stayed, her asshole clenching around the tip. She whimpered, trying to adjust, her breaths ragged.
Mom - “Manoj… it hurts… please, go slow… gosh! ooohh Manoj oooohhh aahhhiii aahiiii aaiiiii nahi nahi ooohhh”
Manoj - “Alright, Rekha, easy now. Just breathe, let me in.”
Mom - “It’s… too big… I can’t…”
Manoj - “You can, Rekha. Your ass is perfect—let’s make this work.”
His tone softened, avoiding insults, coaxing her gently as he pushed, the tip lodged in her asshole, her body struggling but holding firm, caught between pain and surrender.
To be continued.............
Guys so far what do you think? Which parts enticed you so much?
Mom’s red satin dress hugged her curves, her big boobs straining the fabric, her fat ass a hypnotic swell. She’d worn it to seduce Dad, to erase Manoj’s touch, but now she was trapped with him, her holy body at his mercy.
I pressed my eye to the keyhole, cursing myself, knowing that I am doing a sin myself for watching my mom with another man instead of calling my dad and telling him that his wife is a brand new slut.
Manoj grabbed Mom, bending her over while she stood, her hands gripping the bed’s edge. He raised her satin dress, the fabric sliding up her thighs, revealing her bare ass—no panties.
My breath caught; my mom didn't wear any panties, it was understandable because she wanted to have sex with my dad later that night. But now Manoj saw, his grin widening, and I thought of Shalini’s words when she told my mom that “All women are sluts inside.”
Mom’s choice of not to wear panties, her sexy dress—made me wonder if Shalini was right.
Was Mom a slut deep down, hiding behind her holy facade? Was my mom an actual whore who was just religious outside? Shalini’s voice echoed in my mind, and I saw it: Mom’s eagerness to please Dad, her secret with Manoj, her body’s betrayal.
She wasn’t just a victim—she was complicit, her inner filth surfacing, just as Shalini predicted.
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, no panties? You’re a fucking whore, just like I knew.”
Mom - “No, Manoj! I’m holy, a wife—I wore this for Amit, not you!”
Manoj - “For Amit? Bullshit you are lying. Your bare asshole is screaming for my cock.”
Mom - “Stop it! I’m not a whore—I’m religious, a mother to Sanjay! A good faithful woman”
Manoj - “Your fat ass is naked under this dress—whore behavior, Rekha.”
Mom - “I swear, it’s for my husband! I’m pure, Manoj—don’t say that!”
Manoj laughed, his hands massaging her fat ass, squeezing the jiggly flesh, his fingers digging in, making her cheeks ripple. Her ass was plump, a perfect curve, and he kneaded it like dough, his eyes hungry, her dress bunched at her waist.
Manoj - “This ass, Rekha—so fucking fat. Bet it’s starving for cock.”
Mom - “Manoj, please… don’t talk like that. It’s wrong, filthy!”
Manoj - “Shut up bitch! Your ass is a fucking feast. Why hasn’t Amit fucked this asshole?”
Mom - “Stop! Amit’s my husband—he respects me. Let me go, please!”
Manoj - “He is an idiot, he doesn't respect you at all. If he did, he would've fucked your asshole. He’s missing out—this ass was made to be fucked.”
He parted her asscheeks, spreading them wide, her pink asshole winking, still slightly red from the butt plug. A musky scent hit him, earthy and raw, and he inhaled deeply, his face twisting with lust.
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, that smell—your asshole’s begging for my tongue.”
Mom - “No, Manoj! Stop it—Amit could come home any minute! Please don't ruin my marriage”
Manoj - “What’s that smell of your asshole, slut? Your ass is ripe, like it’s been waiting.”
Mom - “What smell? I… I don’t know what you mean!”
Manoj - “Don’t play dumb. When I spread your cheeks, your asshole let out that dirty scent—pure slut.”
Mom - “I don’t know! Please, Manoj, stop this—it’s disgusting!”
He buried his face between her asscheeks, his nose and mouth disappearing into the crevice, his head almost swallowed by her plump flesh. Mom gasped, her body tensing, her boobs heaving under the dress.
Mom - “Manoj, no! Don’t do that—it’s wrong, filthy! Stop putting your face there please”
Manoj - “Why not? Your asshole’s perfect—tastes like sin.”
Mom - “Please, it’s… shameful! Sanjay’s nearby, Amit’s coming!”
Manoj - “I’m gonna eat this ass till you scream, slut.”
He kept his face buried, his head vanishing between her cheeks, his tongue flicking out, lapping at her asshole. I watched, my stomach churning—it was disgusting, his face in her private place, the musky smell he’d mentioned making it worse.
Why would he do that? It seemed vile, like he was smelling and sucking her in the worst way, and yet Mom wasn’t fighting hard enough, her pleas weak.
I saw his tongue press against her asshole, a wet, deliberate lick, and I gagged, sickness rising. It was beyond wrong—her holy body, Dad’s prize, reduced to this. Manoj pulled back, his lips glistening, and pointed to the bed.
Manoj - “Climb on the bed, Rekha. Bend over—ass up.”
Mom - “Manoj, no… please, I’m begging you. Amit could walk in! Why you not listening?”
Manoj - “Get on the fucking bed, slut. I’m not asking.”
She climbed onto the bed, her dress still bunched, and bent over, her fat ass raised. Manoj positioned himself behind her, his pants down, his cock hard, but he couldn’t reach her asshole properly. He growled, frustrated.
Manoj - “Spread your asscheeks, Rekha—open that hole for me.”
Mom - “No, Manoj! I won’t… it’s too much, please!”
He slapped her buttocks, a loud crack, her cheeks jiggling wildly, and she yelped, obeying, her hands spreading her asscheeks, her asshole exposed. His cock nudged closer, now aligned, and he noticed small hairs near her asshole, fine and dark.
host images freeManoj - “Fuck, Rekha, these little hairs—makes your asshole look even dirtier.”
Mom - “Manoj, that’s disgusting! Stop saying such things!”
Manoj - “It’s fucking hot—your slutty hole’s all natural.”
He leaned in, sucking her asshole, his lips sealing around it, his tongue probing, a wet slurping sound filling the room. Mom whimpered, her body trembling.
Mom - “Manoj, please… stop sucking there. It’s… wrong, shameful!”
Manoj - “Wrong? Your asshole’s dripping for me, slut—tastes like you love it.”
Mom - “No, I don’t! I’m begging you, stop this!”
He pulled back, wiping his mouth, and grabbed her shoulders, turning her to face him. Her eyes darted to the window, checking for Dad’s car, her face pale with fear. She was afraid if dad might came so that is why she was worried looking over the window.
Manoj - “Looking for Amit? He won’t save you—suck my cock, now.”
Mom - “Manoj, no… I can’t. Please, anything but this!”
Manoj - “Anything? Then get on your knees, slut—suck it.”
Mom - “I’m begging you… Amit’s coming, Sanjay’s here!”
Manoj - “Fuck them. Open your mouth, or I’ll make you.”
He grabbed her head, forcing her down, her knees hitting the floor. His cock pressed against her lips, and she resisted, but he pushed harder, her mouth opening, his shaft sliding in. She gagged, her eyes watering, as he thrust, his hands gripping her hair.
Manoj - “That’s it, Rekha—suck that cock like the whore you are.”
Mom - “Mmmph… Manoj, please… I’ll do anything, but don’t… don’t fuck my ass.”
Manoj - “Don’t fuck your ass? You are even using the word "fuck", huh? You’re begging for it, slut—look at you, choking on my dick.”
Mom - “No… I’m not… I hate this…”
Manoj - “Your mouth’s working my cock like a pro—fucking pathetic.”
I watched, my hand moving to my pants, gripping my dick, rubbing it for the first time seeing my own mother with another man. I cursed myself, shame flooding me, but a dark thrill kept me going—her holy body corrupted, her lips around his cock.
I loved how Manoj talked to her, his filthy words—“slut,” “whore”—ringing true. Shalini was right: all women were the same, Mom included, her bare pussy and ass proving it.
She deserved those words, her inner slut exposed, just as Shalini had said.
Manoj pulled out, his cock slick, and yanked her up, his voice harsh.'
Manoj - “Bend over again, Rekha—ass up, now.”
Mom - “No, Manoj! Please, I can’t… Amit will see, Sanjay’s here!”
She turned, her fat ass shaking, the cheeks quivering as she pleaded, her hands waving, her eyes darting to the door, then the window. She tried to pull her dress down, to step away, but Manoj grabbed her hips.
Mom - “Manoj, I’ll… I’ll do something else—please, not my ass!”
Manoj - “Shut up and spread your asscheeks, slut!”
She obeyed, her hands trembling, spreading her cheeks, her asshole winking. She looked like a real slut, her pose obscene, her fat ass offered up. I didn’t want to think it, but she was a whore, ready to be fucked, Shalini’s words burning in my mind.
Manoj pushed forcefully, his cock’s tip entering her asshole, stretched from the butt plug. Mom shouted, her voice raw.
Mom - “AAHH! MANOJ, STOP!”
Manoj - “What’s wrong, slut? Too big for your tight ass?”
Mom - “IT HURTS! PLEASE, STOP!”
She moved away, her body shaking, and Manoj growled, frustrated.
Manoj - “Get back here, Rekha—don’t fucking run.”
Mom - “I… I’ll get some oil… it’ll help, but please, be gentle.”
Manoj - “Oil? Hurry the fuck up, slut.”
She stumbled to the shelf, grabbing Dad’s massage oil, her hands shaking. She poured it onto Manoj’s cock, rubbing it in, her fingers slick, and I froze, shocked—Mom was doing this herself, no force.
Shalini was right; she was a slut, her actions betraying her holy claims.
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, oiling my cock? You’re a dirty whore, aren’t you?”
Mom - “No… I’m just… worried it’ll hurt. I don’t want this, Manoj.”
Manoj - “You’re prepping my dick like a pro—fucking slut.”
She applied oil to her anus, her finger circling, then set the bottle on the table and climbed onto the bed, bending over like a rehearsal, spreading her asscheeks. I was stunned—Mom was doing this willingly, her slutty nature undeniable.
Mom - “Manoj, please… just… don’t hurt me. I have never done anal sex please be gentle.”
Manoj - “Shut up bitch! Spread your asscheeks wider, slut—let’s do this.”
She spread her cheeks, and Manoj pushed again, his cock’s tip entering her asshole. Mom shouted, her voice piercing.
Mom - “AAHH! MANOJ, IT’S TOO MUCH! Ooh noo plea....ple...please.. aooooh noo oooohhhhh”
Manoj - “Fuck, Rekha, relax—your ass is tight as hell.”
Mom - “PLEASE, SLOW DOWN! Aaahhhh ooooooooooohhh aaaaaaaaaahhhh no Manoj! Manoj! Wait wait wait ooooooooooohhh ooohh aaahh no no Manoj manoj oooooohhhh”
She squirmed, her hands gripping the sheets, her body tensing, but she didn’t move away, enduring the pain. Her legs trembled, her boobs swayed, her face twisted, but she stayed, her asshole clenching around the tip. She whimpered, trying to adjust, her breaths ragged.
Mom - “Manoj… it hurts… please, go slow… gosh! ooohh Manoj oooohhh aahhhiii aahiiii aaiiiii nahi nahi ooohhh”
Manoj - “Alright, Rekha, easy now. Just breathe, let me in.”
Mom - “It’s… too big… I can’t…”
Manoj - “You can, Rekha. Your ass is perfect—let’s make this work.”
His tone softened, avoiding insults, coaxing her gently as he pushed, the tip lodged in her asshole, her body struggling but holding firm, caught between pain and surrender.
To be continued.............
Guys so far what do you think? Which parts enticed you so much?
25-04-2025, 12:19 AM
(24-04-2025, 03:26 PM)aravindkkumar08 Wrote: Author story so far ok. But need to compare with your old story mom and vikram. The spicy erotic scene missing here compare to your old story. Why can't you make scene from lovemaking not direct to f**k
I will try add later, here Manoj is a pervert not a romantic guy. But let us see what will happen in the coming hot updates.
25-04-2025, 12:22 AM
25-04-2025, 09:38 AM
(25-04-2025, 05:30 AM)aravindkkumar08 Wrote: Instead of dialogue in sentence why don't you try to put a scene in a para.look like drama instead of story. This is my observation.
I will definitely try to do it in the next update. I just wanted to mix descriptions with dialogue to craft a more balanced theme and look. I didn't want to overwhelm it with lots of descriptions because the story will lack depth.
However, stay tuned for the next hot and spicy update to see if my dad will find out if my mom was in the room with Manoj. ??
26-04-2025, 12:54 AM
Mom’s scream echoed in the bedroom, her body trembling as Manoj’s cock’s tip lodged in her asshole, stretched from the butt plug she’d worn earlier.
Her hands spread her fat asscheeks, her red satin dress bunched at her waist, her bare pussy and ass exposed—she’d skipped panties to seduce Dad, not this. I watched through the keyhole, my heart pounding, anger and shameful curiosity warring within me. However I was not angry with my mom.
![[Image: 3.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/FRfYmQhD/3.png)
I was just angry that my dad didn't satisfy my mom because if my dad satisfied my mom, then my mom would not act filthy and sluttily like this.
Shalini’s words—“All women are sluts inside”—burned in my mind, and Mom’s actions, oiling Manoj’s cock herself, spreading her cheeks, made me believe it. I know believed that all women are sluts. There is no woman who is pure. They are pure until they get a huge cock which turns them into whores.
She wasn’t the pious mother I knew; she was a slut, her holy facade crumbling, just as Shalini had predicted.
Manoj pushed gently, his face softening, his voice turning romantic to coax her, no trace of his earlier filth. His hands caressed her ass, soothing her as she whimpered, her asshole clenching around his tip.
![[Image: 1.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/sXtvg0Xy/1.png)
post image online
I couldn’t believe his cock was fitting—her asshole looked too tight, the rim stretched impossibly wide, a faint sheen of oil glistening.
Manoj - “Rekha, my darling, relax for me. Your body’s so beautiful, let it open up. I’ll go slow, make it feel right.”
Mom - “AAHH! MANOJ, IT’S TOO MUCH! I can’t… it hurts so bad! Please, slow down, I’m trying! I am trying my best! I have never done anal please ooohhh goosshh oooh ooo Manooojj”
Manoj - “You’re doing amazing, sweetheart. Just breathe with me, let your body ease into it. I’m here, taking care of you.”
I didn't understand why Manoj all of a sudden started speaking romantically. Why didn't he tell her to shut up and call her words like slut and whore? Why was he romanticizing with her now?
Mom twisted, her legs shaking, her hands gripping the sheets, her boobs swaying under the dress.
She bit her lip, her face contorted in pain, sweat beading on her forehead, her body jerking slightly with each push. Her toes curled, and she gasped, trying to adjust, her asshole resisting but yielding. Clearly anal sex was not my mom's cup of tea. Anal sex was something she was not ready to do.
Mom - “AAHH! MANOJ, PLEASE! IT’S BURNING! Take it out for a bit please oooh gosh I can't take it please just for a moment so that I can at least breath ooohhhhhh Manoojjjj”
Manoj - “Easy, my love, you’re so perfect. Let it happen, feel me inside you. Your body’s made for this, darling.”
Manoj’s teasing was gentle, his eyes locked on her ass, his cock inching deeper, the shaft now half-buried. Mom’s screams softened to whimpers, her body still tense. He paused, stroking her back, his voice calm.
Manoj - “Rekha, don’t clench your asshole so tight, my sweet. It’ll be easier if you relax your hips. Try not to squirm too much, alright? If you tighten your asshole, then it will be tough for me to enter”
Mom - “AAHH! I’m trying, Manoj, but it’s so hard! It hurts… I don’t know how to relax! Please, just… be gentle!”
Manoj - “You’re perfect, darling. Can I add more oil to make it smoother? It’ll feel better, I promise.”
Mom - “Okay… yes, more oil. But please, hurry, Amit might come! I’m so scared, Manoj.”
Manoj - “Don’t worry, my love. Fuck Amit! I am your husband right now! Even if he comes, there is nothing he can do. Reach for the oil on the table and give it to me but keep those beautiful cheeks spread with your hand”
Mom stretched her arm, her hand trembling, reaching for Dad’s massage oil on the bedside table. Manoj's cock remained in her asshole, the tip still lodged, and her movement made her ass jiggle, the rim stretching slightly.
She grabbed the bottle, passing it to Manoj, her face flushed with pain and fear. Manoj poured oil onto his fingers, slicking his shaft, then dabbed some on her asshole, his touch deliberate, his eyes gleaming with control.
Manoj - “Good girl, Rekha. Now, keep your hips still and push back a little. It’ll help me slide in easier, my darling.”
Mom - “AAHH! I’m trying, Manoj, but it’s so intense! I can’t push back—it hurts too much! Please, just… make it quick! Don't push faster please, just slow”
Manoj - “You’re incredible, sweetheart. Breathe deeply, let your body open. You’re almost there, my love.”
I saw Mom in a new way—not the pious mother who prayed daily, but a woman yielding to sin, her bare ass offered up, her actions betraying her holiness.
Her face was a mix of pain and surrender, her eyes half-closed, her mouth open in a silent scream, sweat dripping down her cheek. Manoj’s expression was focused, almost tender, his lips curved in a teasing smile, savoring her struggle. His cock pushed deeper, now three-quarters in, her asshole stretching impossibly, sucking him in.
![[Image: 2.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/Sxvq4Yjb/2.png)
Manoj - “Rekha, your body feels like heaven, so warm and tight. You’re holding me so perfectly. Can you feel how close we are, darling?”
Mom - “AAHH! Manoj, it’s… overwhelming! I’m trying to please you, but it’s so much! I just want to make it through this.”
Manoj - “You’re pleasing me, my sweet. Your asshole is taking my dick so well. Just a little more, and we’ll be one.”
Mom bit the pillow, her teeth sinking into the fabric, muffling her cries as Manoj’s cock slid fully inside, his balls resting against her pussy.
Her asshole had sucked him in, the rim tight around his base, and I knew it was true—her body had accepted him, betraying her protests. Manoj held still, letting her adjust, then began moving back and forth, slow and deliberate, his hands gripping her hips, his eyes locked on her jiggling ass.
![[Image: s.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/7hmdNj2r/s.png)
Manoj - “My love, you’re incredible. Your asshole is holding my dick like a glove. Feel how we’re moving together, darling.”
Mom - “OHH… Manoj, it’s… intense! I’m burning! My asshole is burning oooohhh Please, keep it slow, I’m so overwhelmed.”
Manoj - “You’re my everything, Rekha. Every move feels like magic with you. Let’s keep this rhythm, my sweet. Ooh your asshole is so warm and so fresh”
Mom’s moans grew softer, her body relaxing, and I saw something shift—she seemed to feel good, loved, Manoj’s romantic words wrapping her in a false intimacy, like they were husband and wife.
She didn’t return his love words, but her moans, low and rhythmic, betrayed a pleasure she couldn’t admit. Her hips twitched, and I froze, shocked—she was moving her asshole back and forth on her own, matching his thrusts, her fat ass quivering. I didn't believe my mom was moving her ass back onto him.
Manoj - “Rekha, look at you, moving with me. You’re so beautiful, darling. Has the pain faded, my love?”
Mom - “Yes, Manoj… it’s gone, mostly. It feels… different now, easier. I didn’t expect this, but I’m managing. Aaaaaaahhhhh oooohhhh damn your thing is so big oohhh shit oooohhh damn this is so tough”
Manoj - “You’re a goddess, Rekha. Your body knows what it wants. Let’s keep this dance, sweetheart.”
Mom - “I’m just… trying to cope, Manoj. It’s not what I wanted, but it’s… bearable now. Please, don’t make it hurt again. OOh don't push further please just there oooh oooohhhhh”
I gripped my cock, rubbing it through my pants, shame flooding me. I’d never imagined doing this, watching my own mother, but the sight of her fat ass moving, her moans, Manoj’s romantic teasing—drove me wild.
I cursed myself, knowing it was wrong, but my body betrayed me, the thrill of her sluttiness overwhelming my guilt. Shalini was right; Mom was a slut, and I was no better, my hand moving faster, my breath ragged.
Manoj’s thrusts grew steadier, and he leaned closer, his voice a soft tease.
Manoj - “Rekha, my darling, can I go a little faster? You’re so perfect, I want to feel you more. Will you let me, sweetheart? I want to fuck your asshole a little harder”
Mom - “Yes… okay, Manoj, a little faster. It’s not hurting now, I can handle it. Just… be careful, please.”
![[Image: 1.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/jdBZrsKk/1.png)
Manoj - “You’re my dream, Rekha. I’ll cherish every moment with you. Here we go, my love, just a bit quicker. Hold on but don't squeeze your anus, let me sodomize you the right way baby”
I couldn’t believe Mom agreed, her voice calm, almost willing. She was a slut, Shalini’s words proven true—her pious mask gone, her body craving Manoj’s cock.
He moved faster, his cock sliding in and out of her asshole, the rim stretching and contracting, her fat ass jiggling with each thrust, the cheeks rippling like waves. The bed creaked, a faint neighbor’s radio humming through the wall, adding to the surreal scene.
![[Image: 2.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/htxMDHt4/2.png)
Manoj - “Rekha, your ass is a masterpiece, shaking so beautifully. Every move is pure magic. Can you feel how much I adore you?”
Mom - “OHH… Manoj, it’s… so much! I’m just trying to keep up with you. Please, don’t make it too intense. I am not used to this”
Manoj - “You’re my treasure, darling. This rhythm is perfect, just for us. Let’s stay like this, my sweet. Your asshole is so sweet than your pussy”
Her ass jiggled wildly, each thrust sending tremors through her flesh, her moans growing louder, her body fully surrendered. Then, a sharp sound cut through my haze—the doorbell.
It was Dad; I knew it. Panic surged, and I shoved my cock back into my pants, my hands shaking, and ran downstairs, my footsteps loud on the stairs. Mom and Manoj didn’t hear it—the bedroom’s thick walls muffled the bell, and they were lost in their sex, their moans and creaking bed drowning out everything else.
My heart raced as I reached the door, knowing Dad was about to step into this nightmare
Her hands spread her fat asscheeks, her red satin dress bunched at her waist, her bare pussy and ass exposed—she’d skipped panties to seduce Dad, not this. I watched through the keyhole, my heart pounding, anger and shameful curiosity warring within me. However I was not angry with my mom.
I was just angry that my dad didn't satisfy my mom because if my dad satisfied my mom, then my mom would not act filthy and sluttily like this.
Shalini’s words—“All women are sluts inside”—burned in my mind, and Mom’s actions, oiling Manoj’s cock herself, spreading her cheeks, made me believe it. I know believed that all women are sluts. There is no woman who is pure. They are pure until they get a huge cock which turns them into whores.
She wasn’t the pious mother I knew; she was a slut, her holy facade crumbling, just as Shalini had predicted.
Manoj pushed gently, his face softening, his voice turning romantic to coax her, no trace of his earlier filth. His hands caressed her ass, soothing her as she whimpered, her asshole clenching around his tip.
post image onlineI couldn’t believe his cock was fitting—her asshole looked too tight, the rim stretched impossibly wide, a faint sheen of oil glistening.
Manoj - “Rekha, my darling, relax for me. Your body’s so beautiful, let it open up. I’ll go slow, make it feel right.”
Mom - “AAHH! MANOJ, IT’S TOO MUCH! I can’t… it hurts so bad! Please, slow down, I’m trying! I am trying my best! I have never done anal please ooohhh goosshh oooh ooo Manooojj”
Manoj - “You’re doing amazing, sweetheart. Just breathe with me, let your body ease into it. I’m here, taking care of you.”
I didn't understand why Manoj all of a sudden started speaking romantically. Why didn't he tell her to shut up and call her words like slut and whore? Why was he romanticizing with her now?
Mom twisted, her legs shaking, her hands gripping the sheets, her boobs swaying under the dress.
She bit her lip, her face contorted in pain, sweat beading on her forehead, her body jerking slightly with each push. Her toes curled, and she gasped, trying to adjust, her asshole resisting but yielding. Clearly anal sex was not my mom's cup of tea. Anal sex was something she was not ready to do.
Mom - “AAHH! MANOJ, PLEASE! IT’S BURNING! Take it out for a bit please oooh gosh I can't take it please just for a moment so that I can at least breath ooohhhhhh Manoojjjj”
Manoj - “Easy, my love, you’re so perfect. Let it happen, feel me inside you. Your body’s made for this, darling.”
Manoj’s teasing was gentle, his eyes locked on her ass, his cock inching deeper, the shaft now half-buried. Mom’s screams softened to whimpers, her body still tense. He paused, stroking her back, his voice calm.
Manoj - “Rekha, don’t clench your asshole so tight, my sweet. It’ll be easier if you relax your hips. Try not to squirm too much, alright? If you tighten your asshole, then it will be tough for me to enter”
Mom - “AAHH! I’m trying, Manoj, but it’s so hard! It hurts… I don’t know how to relax! Please, just… be gentle!”
Manoj - “You’re perfect, darling. Can I add more oil to make it smoother? It’ll feel better, I promise.”
Mom - “Okay… yes, more oil. But please, hurry, Amit might come! I’m so scared, Manoj.”
Manoj - “Don’t worry, my love. Fuck Amit! I am your husband right now! Even if he comes, there is nothing he can do. Reach for the oil on the table and give it to me but keep those beautiful cheeks spread with your hand”
Mom stretched her arm, her hand trembling, reaching for Dad’s massage oil on the bedside table. Manoj's cock remained in her asshole, the tip still lodged, and her movement made her ass jiggle, the rim stretching slightly.
She grabbed the bottle, passing it to Manoj, her face flushed with pain and fear. Manoj poured oil onto his fingers, slicking his shaft, then dabbed some on her asshole, his touch deliberate, his eyes gleaming with control.
Manoj - “Good girl, Rekha. Now, keep your hips still and push back a little. It’ll help me slide in easier, my darling.”
Mom - “AAHH! I’m trying, Manoj, but it’s so intense! I can’t push back—it hurts too much! Please, just… make it quick! Don't push faster please, just slow”
Manoj - “You’re incredible, sweetheart. Breathe deeply, let your body open. You’re almost there, my love.”
I saw Mom in a new way—not the pious mother who prayed daily, but a woman yielding to sin, her bare ass offered up, her actions betraying her holiness.
Her face was a mix of pain and surrender, her eyes half-closed, her mouth open in a silent scream, sweat dripping down her cheek. Manoj’s expression was focused, almost tender, his lips curved in a teasing smile, savoring her struggle. His cock pushed deeper, now three-quarters in, her asshole stretching impossibly, sucking him in.
Manoj - “Rekha, your body feels like heaven, so warm and tight. You’re holding me so perfectly. Can you feel how close we are, darling?”
Mom - “AAHH! Manoj, it’s… overwhelming! I’m trying to please you, but it’s so much! I just want to make it through this.”
Manoj - “You’re pleasing me, my sweet. Your asshole is taking my dick so well. Just a little more, and we’ll be one.”
Mom bit the pillow, her teeth sinking into the fabric, muffling her cries as Manoj’s cock slid fully inside, his balls resting against her pussy.
Her asshole had sucked him in, the rim tight around his base, and I knew it was true—her body had accepted him, betraying her protests. Manoj held still, letting her adjust, then began moving back and forth, slow and deliberate, his hands gripping her hips, his eyes locked on her jiggling ass.
Manoj - “My love, you’re incredible. Your asshole is holding my dick like a glove. Feel how we’re moving together, darling.”
Mom - “OHH… Manoj, it’s… intense! I’m burning! My asshole is burning oooohhh Please, keep it slow, I’m so overwhelmed.”
Manoj - “You’re my everything, Rekha. Every move feels like magic with you. Let’s keep this rhythm, my sweet. Ooh your asshole is so warm and so fresh”
Mom’s moans grew softer, her body relaxing, and I saw something shift—she seemed to feel good, loved, Manoj’s romantic words wrapping her in a false intimacy, like they were husband and wife.
She didn’t return his love words, but her moans, low and rhythmic, betrayed a pleasure she couldn’t admit. Her hips twitched, and I froze, shocked—she was moving her asshole back and forth on her own, matching his thrusts, her fat ass quivering. I didn't believe my mom was moving her ass back onto him.
Manoj - “Rekha, look at you, moving with me. You’re so beautiful, darling. Has the pain faded, my love?”
Mom - “Yes, Manoj… it’s gone, mostly. It feels… different now, easier. I didn’t expect this, but I’m managing. Aaaaaaahhhhh oooohhhh damn your thing is so big oohhh shit oooohhh damn this is so tough”
Manoj - “You’re a goddess, Rekha. Your body knows what it wants. Let’s keep this dance, sweetheart.”
Mom - “I’m just… trying to cope, Manoj. It’s not what I wanted, but it’s… bearable now. Please, don’t make it hurt again. OOh don't push further please just there oooh oooohhhhh”
I gripped my cock, rubbing it through my pants, shame flooding me. I’d never imagined doing this, watching my own mother, but the sight of her fat ass moving, her moans, Manoj’s romantic teasing—drove me wild.
I cursed myself, knowing it was wrong, but my body betrayed me, the thrill of her sluttiness overwhelming my guilt. Shalini was right; Mom was a slut, and I was no better, my hand moving faster, my breath ragged.
Manoj’s thrusts grew steadier, and he leaned closer, his voice a soft tease.
Manoj - “Rekha, my darling, can I go a little faster? You’re so perfect, I want to feel you more. Will you let me, sweetheart? I want to fuck your asshole a little harder”
Mom - “Yes… okay, Manoj, a little faster. It’s not hurting now, I can handle it. Just… be careful, please.”
Manoj - “You’re my dream, Rekha. I’ll cherish every moment with you. Here we go, my love, just a bit quicker. Hold on but don't squeeze your anus, let me sodomize you the right way baby”
I couldn’t believe Mom agreed, her voice calm, almost willing. She was a slut, Shalini’s words proven true—her pious mask gone, her body craving Manoj’s cock.
He moved faster, his cock sliding in and out of her asshole, the rim stretching and contracting, her fat ass jiggling with each thrust, the cheeks rippling like waves. The bed creaked, a faint neighbor’s radio humming through the wall, adding to the surreal scene.
Manoj - “Rekha, your ass is a masterpiece, shaking so beautifully. Every move is pure magic. Can you feel how much I adore you?”
Mom - “OHH… Manoj, it’s… so much! I’m just trying to keep up with you. Please, don’t make it too intense. I am not used to this”
Manoj - “You’re my treasure, darling. This rhythm is perfect, just for us. Let’s stay like this, my sweet. Your asshole is so sweet than your pussy”
Her ass jiggled wildly, each thrust sending tremors through her flesh, her moans growing louder, her body fully surrendered. Then, a sharp sound cut through my haze—the doorbell.
It was Dad; I knew it. Panic surged, and I shoved my cock back into my pants, my hands shaking, and ran downstairs, my footsteps loud on the stairs. Mom and Manoj didn’t hear it—the bedroom’s thick walls muffled the bell, and they were lost in their sex, their moans and creaking bed drowning out everything else.
My heart raced as I reached the door, knowing Dad was about to step into this nightmare
26-04-2025, 09:12 PM
The doorbell’s sharp ring pierced the air, signaling Dad’s return, but I froze, my hand still on my pants, my cock throbbing from watching Mom—Rekha—upstairs. I was in a dilemma, should I continue watching my mom's asshole being fucked raw or should I go and open the door for dad?
But if I open the door then it would mean that I would be opening the door for their divorce.
Her fat ass jiggled with each of Manoj’s thrusts, his cock buried deep in her asshole, a place meant for shitting, not fucking.
![[Image: 1.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/X7JMckQw/1.png)
My holy mother, who prayed daily, was being sodomized for the first time, her fat thighs wiggling, her bare pussy exposed and her asshole being stretched to the limit. I didn’t want to face Dad, to see his trusting eyes while Mom moaned in sin.
Instead, I crept back upstairs, drawn to the keyhole, my heart pounding with shame and curiosity, my breath catching as Mom’s loud moans of pleasure filled the bedroom. My dad kept ringing the door bell and I didn't care to open.
I returned to my position at the keyhole to watch my Manoj continue fucking my mom's asshole so hard that he even began sweating. The sweat on his back and forehead confirmed to me that he was really an alpha male with strength for fucking a woman's asshole.
Inside, the bed shook, its wooden frame groaning under their rhythm, the headboard tapping the wall like a heartbeat. Mom’s body rocked, her big boobs swaying under the dress, her nipples hard against the fabric, her fat ass quivering as Manoj pounded her.
![[Image: 2.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/wxwZvsg3/2.png)
She arched her back, her fingers clawing the sheets, her toes curling into the mattress, her moans a mix of surrender and ecstasy, her hips pushing back to meet his thrusts.
Was my mom enjoying being fucked in her asshole? The forbidden hole? Why was she moaning and yet she was having sex with another man? Is she that level of a slut? How did Shalini know this? How did she know my mom was such a slut who was just covered in religious matters?
Sweat glistened on her skin, rolling down her spine, pooling in the dip of her lower back. Manoj leaned in, his tongue tracing her neck, licking the salty sweat, then dragging along her back, savoring her taste. I could see his dick was deeper in her anus, making more way in her asshole. So filthy.
He was shameless, fucking another man’s wife, his hands gripping her big ass, his eyes gleaming with triumph. He was lucky—too lucky—to use Mom’s asshole, a sacred woman’s forbidden place, fucking what Dad cherished.
![[Image: 3.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/hvY20Ttr/3.png)
Manoj spoke, his voice blending romantic sweetness with filthy slurs, teasing her as he thrust deeper.
Manoj: Rekha, my darling, your asshole is a fucking dream, sucking me in like a whore. You’re so beautiful, my sweet slut. Feel how deep I’m loving you, bitch.
Mom: OHH… Manoj, please, it’s too much! I’m not a whore, but… this feeling, it’s overwhelming! You’ve corrupted me, made me sin like this! Oohhh I can't believe I am doing this oooh oohh ssshhhhh ooooohh aaaaahhhh
Manoj: You’re my goddess, Rekha, even if you’re a filthy slut. Your ass is pure magic, darling. Let it love me back, my precious whore. Push that fat ass of your back on me, let my dick go deeper in your asshole.
I was shocked, my stomach twisting—Mom was moaning in pleasure, her body betraying her holy claims. She tossed her hair, her lips parted, her eyes half-closed in a haze of ecstasy, her hips grinding against Manoj, her ass cheeks clapping softly.
Her pleasure was undeniable, her moans louder, her body alive with sin. Shalini’s words flashed once: “All women are sluts inside.” Mom was proving it, her pious mask shattered, her asshole opening up, welcoming Manoj’s cock.
![[Image: 3.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/JzNQs9ZK/3.png)
Manoj’s thrusts grew bolder, the bed’s creaks mixing with the faint hum of a the TV through the wall, the room heavy with the scent of sweat and oil and the filthy smell of mom's asshole.
He spoke again, his voice dripping with filth, focused on her asshole.
Manoj: Rekha, your asshole’s sucking my dick so deep, like it’s hungry for it. It’s fucking gripping me, darling. This tight hole’s made for my cock, isn’t it?
Mom: OHH… I don’t know, Manoj! It feels so strange, so full! I didn’t want this, but… my body’s doing things I can’t control! I am beginning to like this but.....aaaaahhhhh don't push further please.. aaahhhh
Manoj: That’s it, my sweet. Your asshole’s a fucking vacuum, pulling me in. You’re built for this, Rekha, even if you deny it.
Mom’s asshole was opening, the rim stretching wide, slick with oil, her flesh yielding as Manoj’s cock slid in and out, her moans punctuating each thrust.
The bed shook harder, a glass of water on the nightstand trembling, threatening to spill. A curtain fluttered from a cracked window, letting in a whiff of jasmine from the garden, clashing with the room’s musky heat.
Manoj held her fat ass, his fingers sinking into the jiggly flesh, pounding her with steady force, her cheeks rippling like waves on a stormy sea.
Mom’s moans turned to a desperate edge, and she blamed Manoj, her voice thick with pleasure and guilt.
Mom: OHH… Manoj, you’ve ruined me! You pushed me into this sin, made me feel this filthy pleasure! I was a good wife, a pure mother, and now I’m… this! I don't feel like I am a good wife... oooohh ah ah ah ah
Manoj: Ruined? You’re thriving, my darling slut. You are my slut from now on. Don't be religious, just be my whore only. I just woke up what was sleeping inside you, Rekha. Your body’s thanking me, fucking loving every inch of my cock. Now my cock deeper in your filthy asshole.
Mom: No, aahhh aahhh ooohhhh you corrupted my soul! I wanted to stay holy, to honor my husband Amit, but you dragged me into this shame! These feelings… they’re wrong, but I can’t stop them!
Manoj: Shame? You’re a fucking queen, Rekha, taking my dick like a pro. I’m just giving you what you were born for, sweetheart. Moan louder, let it all out. Moan loud as I fuck your big gaand.
Mom’s body shuddered, her asshole now loose, accepting him fully, the rim glistening, her moans a symphony of conflicted pleasure. She shifted, wincing, and pleaded to adjust her position, her voice strained.
Mom: OHH… Manoj, please, let me adjust my bending! This angle hurts, it’s too deep! I need to move a little, ease the pain!
Manoj: Adjust, darling? Why’s it hurting now? I thought you were liking it, my cock is already deep, no need to change the position. Is it the angle or my cock stretching you too much? Tell me, my sweet.
Mom: It’s the angle, Manoj! My hips are cramping, the pain’s sharp! Please, let me shift, I can’t stay like this! Your penis is so big, it hurts more in this angle and position aaahhhhh!
Manoj: Alright, my love, move however you need. Find the spot that feels right. But keep that ass open for me, Rekha. Don't remove my dick from your asshole.
Mom: Thank you… yes, this position’s better. It’s less painful now. Just… keep going slow, please. Keep going but don't push hard, the pain will be sharp.
Manoj: Perfect, darling. Is this how you want it, bent just like this? You’re so fucking gorgeous, Rekha.
I didn't believe my mom was telling Manoj to continue fucking her asshole. Why is mom behaving like a bitch?
Mom adjusted, raising her hips slightly, her knees spreading wider, her ass cheeks parting naturally, her asshole more accessible. Actually my didn't know but this angle actually made Manoj's dick go deeper in her asshole, it was the worst preference she chose.
Manoj resumed, his cock sliding smoothly, her moans softer but still laced with pleasure.
![[Image: 4.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/dVw5jsqg/4.png)
The doorbell rang again, sharper, insistent, and I panicked, my heart racing. I ran downstairs, terrified Dad would discover Mom’s sin, certain today he’d divorce her, our family shattered.
My hands shook, my breath ragged, as I reached the door, the tension a vise around my chest. I opened it, and Dad stood there, his face tired but puzzled, his briefcase in hand, a faint curry scent clinging to his coat from lunch.
Dad: Hello Sanjay, why didn’t you open the door sooner? I knocked like a thousand times, son. Were you asleep or something?
Me: Uh… no, Dad, I was… in the bathroom. Sorry, I didn’t hear you. I came as fast as I could.
Dad stepped inside, sniffing the air, his brow furrowing. The house smelled odd—musky, like sweat and something filthy, mixed with Mom’s and Manoj's perfume lingering in the hall.
Dad: Why’s the house smelling so funny, Sanjay? It’s not the usual clean scent. What’s that… heavy odor?
Me: Funny? Um… I don’t know, Dad. Maybe it’s… the curry Mom was cooking earlier? You know she cooks really tasty food maybe today she added more spice
Dad: Curry and spice? No, it’s… earthier, like something’s off. Did someone spill something?
I nearly fainted, my legs wobbling, certain he’d sense Mom’s betrayal. Today might be the day my dad knows that his wife is pleasing another man inside his bedroom.
The smell was Manoj’s sweat, Mom’s body, their sin seeping through the house. Dad noticed a torn scarf on the couch—Mom’s, ripped by Manoj weeks ago—its silk frayed, and a single high heel under the table, its strap broken. His eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering.
Dad: That scarf’s torn, and… a broken shoe? What’s going on here, Sanjay?
Me: Oh, that… Mom was… cleaning, and stuff got messed up. It’s nothing, Dad.
I couldn’t believe Dad was in the house while Mom was upstairs, her asshole fucked by Manoj, their thumping bed a secret I held. My stomach churned; I’d just betrayed Mom’s orders not to tell Dad where she was or that Manoj was here.
Dad: Where’s your mom, Sanjay? She’s usually down here cooking by now.
Me: Uh… she’s… upstairs, Dad. Probably… resting or something.
Dad: Resting? She’s not sick, is she? You’re stammering, son. I hope she is not sick or something.
Me: No, she’s fine! I just… uummm....I’m a bit cold, that’s all.
I shook, my palms sweaty, and Dad sat on the sofa, his eyes scanning the room. He called upstairs, his voice loud. I knew dad knew that the house today was somehow not in the normal state.
Dad: Rekha! Come down, love! I’m home!
No reply came—the bedroom’s thick walls and Manoj's and Mom's sex drowned out his voice. Dad looked confused, looking at me.
Dad: Why’s she not answering, Sanjay? Is she okay up there?
Me: She’s… probably asleep, Dad. She was tired earlier. Maybe she didn’t hear you.
Dad: Asleep? Well I don't know! And You’re sweating, son, but you said you’re cold. Or did you play so hard today?
Me: It’s… just the cold, Dad. I’m fine, really. Maybe I’m coming down with something.
My lies were crumbling, my face hot, sweat beading on my forehead. A faint thumping drifted from upstairs, the bed’s rhythm, Mom’s muffled moans barely audible. Dad’s head tilted, his eyes sharpening.
I was sweating for the fear of two things. One, that my dad will know the true colors of my mom and secondly, my dad will divorce my mom today and that will be the end of their love life.
Then a faint thump from upstairs were heard, it was quick sharp thumping and thuds.
Dad: What’s that noise, Sanjay? Is your mom moving furniture or something? Why’s there thumping?
Me: Oh, that? Mom’s… probably rearranging her closet. She mentioned cleaning up there.
Dad: Rearranging? I thought you said she was sleeping? Sounds louder than that. Well, whatever, I feel thirsty. Go get me some water, son.
I bolted to the kitchen, my heart hammering, fear clawing at me like a trapped animal. I was terrified Dad would climb the stairs, see Mom’s bare ass, Manoj’s cock in her asshole, and end our family.
In the kitchen, I froze because I saw Mom’s phone lay on the counter, the screen glowing with a penis picture, Manoj’s cock, sent via WhatsApp.
![[Image: 6.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/tRdPthYC/6.png)
I scrolled, my hands trembling, and saw their earlier chats—filthy messages, Manoj’s demands, Mom’s reluctant replies. If Dad had come here, he’d have seen it, the truth exposed. I shoved the phone into a drawer, my pulse racing, and grabbed a glass of water.
Dad: Sanjay! Why’re you taking so long? It’s just water, son!
Me: Sorry, Dad! I… dropped the glass, had to clean it up. Here’s the water!
I ran back, handing him the glass, my hands shaking. The thumping grew louder, Mom’s screams faint but unmistakable, and Dad’s brow furrowed again.
Dad: Why’s your mom screaming, Sanjay? That’s not cleaning—it sounds like she’s hurt.
Me: Uh… maybe she saw a spider, Dad. She hates those. I’m sure she’s fine.
Dad: A spider? That’s a lot of noise for a bug. I’m going upstairs to check.
Panic surged, my vision blurring—Dad was moving toward the stairs, his steps heavy, and I knew the truth was seconds away from exploding
Whoooaa! Guys! Is my dad finally going to see my mom being fucked in her asshole by Manoj?
But if I open the door then it would mean that I would be opening the door for their divorce.
Her fat ass jiggled with each of Manoj’s thrusts, his cock buried deep in her asshole, a place meant for shitting, not fucking.
My holy mother, who prayed daily, was being sodomized for the first time, her fat thighs wiggling, her bare pussy exposed and her asshole being stretched to the limit. I didn’t want to face Dad, to see his trusting eyes while Mom moaned in sin.
Instead, I crept back upstairs, drawn to the keyhole, my heart pounding with shame and curiosity, my breath catching as Mom’s loud moans of pleasure filled the bedroom. My dad kept ringing the door bell and I didn't care to open.
I returned to my position at the keyhole to watch my Manoj continue fucking my mom's asshole so hard that he even began sweating. The sweat on his back and forehead confirmed to me that he was really an alpha male with strength for fucking a woman's asshole.
Inside, the bed shook, its wooden frame groaning under their rhythm, the headboard tapping the wall like a heartbeat. Mom’s body rocked, her big boobs swaying under the dress, her nipples hard against the fabric, her fat ass quivering as Manoj pounded her.
She arched her back, her fingers clawing the sheets, her toes curling into the mattress, her moans a mix of surrender and ecstasy, her hips pushing back to meet his thrusts.
Was my mom enjoying being fucked in her asshole? The forbidden hole? Why was she moaning and yet she was having sex with another man? Is she that level of a slut? How did Shalini know this? How did she know my mom was such a slut who was just covered in religious matters?
Sweat glistened on her skin, rolling down her spine, pooling in the dip of her lower back. Manoj leaned in, his tongue tracing her neck, licking the salty sweat, then dragging along her back, savoring her taste. I could see his dick was deeper in her anus, making more way in her asshole. So filthy.
He was shameless, fucking another man’s wife, his hands gripping her big ass, his eyes gleaming with triumph. He was lucky—too lucky—to use Mom’s asshole, a sacred woman’s forbidden place, fucking what Dad cherished.
Manoj spoke, his voice blending romantic sweetness with filthy slurs, teasing her as he thrust deeper.
Manoj: Rekha, my darling, your asshole is a fucking dream, sucking me in like a whore. You’re so beautiful, my sweet slut. Feel how deep I’m loving you, bitch.
Mom: OHH… Manoj, please, it’s too much! I’m not a whore, but… this feeling, it’s overwhelming! You’ve corrupted me, made me sin like this! Oohhh I can't believe I am doing this oooh oohh ssshhhhh ooooohh aaaaahhhh
Manoj: You’re my goddess, Rekha, even if you’re a filthy slut. Your ass is pure magic, darling. Let it love me back, my precious whore. Push that fat ass of your back on me, let my dick go deeper in your asshole.
I was shocked, my stomach twisting—Mom was moaning in pleasure, her body betraying her holy claims. She tossed her hair, her lips parted, her eyes half-closed in a haze of ecstasy, her hips grinding against Manoj, her ass cheeks clapping softly.
Her pleasure was undeniable, her moans louder, her body alive with sin. Shalini’s words flashed once: “All women are sluts inside.” Mom was proving it, her pious mask shattered, her asshole opening up, welcoming Manoj’s cock.
Manoj’s thrusts grew bolder, the bed’s creaks mixing with the faint hum of a the TV through the wall, the room heavy with the scent of sweat and oil and the filthy smell of mom's asshole.
He spoke again, his voice dripping with filth, focused on her asshole.
Manoj: Rekha, your asshole’s sucking my dick so deep, like it’s hungry for it. It’s fucking gripping me, darling. This tight hole’s made for my cock, isn’t it?
Mom: OHH… I don’t know, Manoj! It feels so strange, so full! I didn’t want this, but… my body’s doing things I can’t control! I am beginning to like this but.....aaaaahhhhh don't push further please.. aaahhhh
Manoj: That’s it, my sweet. Your asshole’s a fucking vacuum, pulling me in. You’re built for this, Rekha, even if you deny it.
Mom’s asshole was opening, the rim stretching wide, slick with oil, her flesh yielding as Manoj’s cock slid in and out, her moans punctuating each thrust.
The bed shook harder, a glass of water on the nightstand trembling, threatening to spill. A curtain fluttered from a cracked window, letting in a whiff of jasmine from the garden, clashing with the room’s musky heat.
Manoj held her fat ass, his fingers sinking into the jiggly flesh, pounding her with steady force, her cheeks rippling like waves on a stormy sea.
Mom’s moans turned to a desperate edge, and she blamed Manoj, her voice thick with pleasure and guilt.
Mom: OHH… Manoj, you’ve ruined me! You pushed me into this sin, made me feel this filthy pleasure! I was a good wife, a pure mother, and now I’m… this! I don't feel like I am a good wife... oooohh ah ah ah ah
Manoj: Ruined? You’re thriving, my darling slut. You are my slut from now on. Don't be religious, just be my whore only. I just woke up what was sleeping inside you, Rekha. Your body’s thanking me, fucking loving every inch of my cock. Now my cock deeper in your filthy asshole.
Mom: No, aahhh aahhh ooohhhh you corrupted my soul! I wanted to stay holy, to honor my husband Amit, but you dragged me into this shame! These feelings… they’re wrong, but I can’t stop them!
Manoj: Shame? You’re a fucking queen, Rekha, taking my dick like a pro. I’m just giving you what you were born for, sweetheart. Moan louder, let it all out. Moan loud as I fuck your big gaand.
Mom’s body shuddered, her asshole now loose, accepting him fully, the rim glistening, her moans a symphony of conflicted pleasure. She shifted, wincing, and pleaded to adjust her position, her voice strained.
Mom: OHH… Manoj, please, let me adjust my bending! This angle hurts, it’s too deep! I need to move a little, ease the pain!
Manoj: Adjust, darling? Why’s it hurting now? I thought you were liking it, my cock is already deep, no need to change the position. Is it the angle or my cock stretching you too much? Tell me, my sweet.
Mom: It’s the angle, Manoj! My hips are cramping, the pain’s sharp! Please, let me shift, I can’t stay like this! Your penis is so big, it hurts more in this angle and position aaahhhhh!
Manoj: Alright, my love, move however you need. Find the spot that feels right. But keep that ass open for me, Rekha. Don't remove my dick from your asshole.
Mom: Thank you… yes, this position’s better. It’s less painful now. Just… keep going slow, please. Keep going but don't push hard, the pain will be sharp.
Manoj: Perfect, darling. Is this how you want it, bent just like this? You’re so fucking gorgeous, Rekha.
I didn't believe my mom was telling Manoj to continue fucking her asshole. Why is mom behaving like a bitch?
Mom adjusted, raising her hips slightly, her knees spreading wider, her ass cheeks parting naturally, her asshole more accessible. Actually my didn't know but this angle actually made Manoj's dick go deeper in her asshole, it was the worst preference she chose.
Manoj resumed, his cock sliding smoothly, her moans softer but still laced with pleasure.
The doorbell rang again, sharper, insistent, and I panicked, my heart racing. I ran downstairs, terrified Dad would discover Mom’s sin, certain today he’d divorce her, our family shattered.
My hands shook, my breath ragged, as I reached the door, the tension a vise around my chest. I opened it, and Dad stood there, his face tired but puzzled, his briefcase in hand, a faint curry scent clinging to his coat from lunch.
Dad: Hello Sanjay, why didn’t you open the door sooner? I knocked like a thousand times, son. Were you asleep or something?
Me: Uh… no, Dad, I was… in the bathroom. Sorry, I didn’t hear you. I came as fast as I could.
Dad stepped inside, sniffing the air, his brow furrowing. The house smelled odd—musky, like sweat and something filthy, mixed with Mom’s and Manoj's perfume lingering in the hall.
Dad: Why’s the house smelling so funny, Sanjay? It’s not the usual clean scent. What’s that… heavy odor?
Me: Funny? Um… I don’t know, Dad. Maybe it’s… the curry Mom was cooking earlier? You know she cooks really tasty food maybe today she added more spice
Dad: Curry and spice? No, it’s… earthier, like something’s off. Did someone spill something?
I nearly fainted, my legs wobbling, certain he’d sense Mom’s betrayal. Today might be the day my dad knows that his wife is pleasing another man inside his bedroom.
The smell was Manoj’s sweat, Mom’s body, their sin seeping through the house. Dad noticed a torn scarf on the couch—Mom’s, ripped by Manoj weeks ago—its silk frayed, and a single high heel under the table, its strap broken. His eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering.
Dad: That scarf’s torn, and… a broken shoe? What’s going on here, Sanjay?
Me: Oh, that… Mom was… cleaning, and stuff got messed up. It’s nothing, Dad.
I couldn’t believe Dad was in the house while Mom was upstairs, her asshole fucked by Manoj, their thumping bed a secret I held. My stomach churned; I’d just betrayed Mom’s orders not to tell Dad where she was or that Manoj was here.
Dad: Where’s your mom, Sanjay? She’s usually down here cooking by now.
Me: Uh… she’s… upstairs, Dad. Probably… resting or something.
Dad: Resting? She’s not sick, is she? You’re stammering, son. I hope she is not sick or something.
Me: No, she’s fine! I just… uummm....I’m a bit cold, that’s all.
I shook, my palms sweaty, and Dad sat on the sofa, his eyes scanning the room. He called upstairs, his voice loud. I knew dad knew that the house today was somehow not in the normal state.
Dad: Rekha! Come down, love! I’m home!
No reply came—the bedroom’s thick walls and Manoj's and Mom's sex drowned out his voice. Dad looked confused, looking at me.
Dad: Why’s she not answering, Sanjay? Is she okay up there?
Me: She’s… probably asleep, Dad. She was tired earlier. Maybe she didn’t hear you.
Dad: Asleep? Well I don't know! And You’re sweating, son, but you said you’re cold. Or did you play so hard today?
Me: It’s… just the cold, Dad. I’m fine, really. Maybe I’m coming down with something.
My lies were crumbling, my face hot, sweat beading on my forehead. A faint thumping drifted from upstairs, the bed’s rhythm, Mom’s muffled moans barely audible. Dad’s head tilted, his eyes sharpening.
I was sweating for the fear of two things. One, that my dad will know the true colors of my mom and secondly, my dad will divorce my mom today and that will be the end of their love life.
Then a faint thump from upstairs were heard, it was quick sharp thumping and thuds.
Dad: What’s that noise, Sanjay? Is your mom moving furniture or something? Why’s there thumping?
Me: Oh, that? Mom’s… probably rearranging her closet. She mentioned cleaning up there.
Dad: Rearranging? I thought you said she was sleeping? Sounds louder than that. Well, whatever, I feel thirsty. Go get me some water, son.
I bolted to the kitchen, my heart hammering, fear clawing at me like a trapped animal. I was terrified Dad would climb the stairs, see Mom’s bare ass, Manoj’s cock in her asshole, and end our family.
In the kitchen, I froze because I saw Mom’s phone lay on the counter, the screen glowing with a penis picture, Manoj’s cock, sent via WhatsApp.
I scrolled, my hands trembling, and saw their earlier chats—filthy messages, Manoj’s demands, Mom’s reluctant replies. If Dad had come here, he’d have seen it, the truth exposed. I shoved the phone into a drawer, my pulse racing, and grabbed a glass of water.
Dad: Sanjay! Why’re you taking so long? It’s just water, son!
Me: Sorry, Dad! I… dropped the glass, had to clean it up. Here’s the water!
I ran back, handing him the glass, my hands shaking. The thumping grew louder, Mom’s screams faint but unmistakable, and Dad’s brow furrowed again.
Dad: Why’s your mom screaming, Sanjay? That’s not cleaning—it sounds like she’s hurt.
Me: Uh… maybe she saw a spider, Dad. She hates those. I’m sure she’s fine.
Dad: A spider? That’s a lot of noise for a bug. I’m going upstairs to check.
Panic surged, my vision blurring—Dad was moving toward the stairs, his steps heavy, and I knew the truth was seconds away from exploding
Whoooaa! Guys! Is my dad finally going to see my mom being fucked in her asshole by Manoj?
27-04-2025, 09:04 PM
The air in the house was thick with tension, the faint musk of sweat and sin lingering like a ghost as Dad’s heavy footsteps started up the stairs.
My heart hammered, my palms slick with sweat, certain he’d burst into the bedroom and see Mom—Rekha—her fat ass spread, Manoj’s cock buried in her asshole, the ultimate betrayal of his holy wife.
The torn scarf on the couch, the broken high heel under the table, the earthy odor Dad had noticed—they were clues piling up, threatening to unravel everything.
I couldn’t let him see her like this, couldn’t let our family shatter. My voice cracked as I called out, desperation clawing at me.
Me: Dad, wait! I’ll go get Mom! She’s… probably still cleaning. You don’t need to go up!
Dad: Alright, Sanjay. Hurry up, though—I’m starving, and this house feels off tonight. I’ll wait in the sitting room.
Dad turned, his footsteps retreating to the sofa, the creak of the cushions a small relief. I bolted upstairs, my legs trembling, the staircase seeming to stretch endlessly, each step a thudding echo of my fear.
The hallway was dim, lit only by a flickering bulb, casting shadows that danced like spect in the cracked mirror above the landing.
As I neared Mom’s bedroom door, her screams hit me like a punch—raw, erotic, laced with pleasure: “OOOH, YES, YES, FUCK MY ASSHOLE!”
My stomach lurched, shock rooting me to the spot. Mom, the woman who lit incense every morning, who dbangd sarees modestly for temple visits, was moaning like a porn star, using “fuck” with abandon.
I’d known she was slipping—her bare pussy under the satin dress, the butt plug, her lies about Manoj—but this? Her voice dripped with lust, her holy facade obliterated.
I’d tested her with my “ass” question, and her weak lie had hinted at her sluttiness, but hearing her beg for her asshole to be fucked by the pervert Manoj shattered every illusion.
She wasn’t just trapped; she was reveling in it, her filthy asshole craving Manoj’s cock, her moans a siren’s call to sin. My chest tightened, betrayal and fascination warring within me, my cock twitching despite my horror.
I pressed my eye to the keyhole, the brass cold against my skin, and saw Manoj fucking her rapidly, his hips a blur, his cock pistoning in and out of her asshole with relentless force.
![[Image: 9.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/PqZQwJcg/9.png)
The pace was ferocious, each thrust a wet slap, her ass cheeks rippling like storm-tossed waves, the bed’s frame shuddering, its legs scbanging the floor. Ooh her poor asshole is being ravaged.
Her asshole stretched wide, the rim glistening with oil, red and puckered from the abuse, juices leaking down her thighs.
The rapid fucking made her boobs bounce wildly under the dress, her nipples stabbing the fabric, her hair a sweaty tangle whipping across her back. I never imagined the mom who I knew and taught me good manners was doing the worst sin on her marriage bedroom with another man.
Mom’s hands clawed the sheets, tearing the cotton, her knees buckling, her body lurching forward with each thrust, her moans a crescendo of ecstasy.
Manoj spoke, his voice a twisted blend of romantic sweetness and filthy slurs, his hands gripping her hips, sweat beading on his brow.
Manoj: Rekha, my darling, your ass is a fucking whore’s dream, so tight and greedy. You’re my sweet slut, loving this cock, aren’t you? Tell me you love it, my precious bitch.
Mom: OHHH! MANOJ, IT’S TOO MUCH! I… I can’t believe I’m feeling this! Why are you doing this to me?
Manoj: You like it, don’t you, my love? Your asshole’s sucking me dry, you filthy goddess. Why’s it gripping me so hard, Rekha?
Mom: I… yes, a little, but it’s wrong! Why do you keep asking me these shameful things? I’m not supposed to feel this way! Aaahhh ooohhhhhhh
Manoj: Because you’re a slut under that holy mask, darling. Is your pussy wet from this, Rekha? Is it dripping for my cock in your ass?
Mom: Stop it, Manoj! Why do you say such disgusting things? I’m… I’m not like that, I swear!
![[Image: 1.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/qBQXn9bv/1.png)
The room reeked, a filthy stench of sweat, oil, and something rawer—Mom’s asshole, its musky, earthy odor lurking in the air, seeping into the hallway.
It was unmistakable, the scent of her spoilt asshole, mingling with her perfume, a sickening blend that clung to my throat.
I knocked on the door, my fist trembling, and saw Mom’s head snap up, her eyes wide with shock, her body pausing mid-moan. But Manoj didn’t stop, his cock still buried deep in her nasty asshole, his thrusts slowing but relentless, a smug grin on his face.
Me: Mom! Dad’s home! He’s downstairs and wants to see you now!
Mom: Sanjay?! Oh God, where is he? Is he coming up here?
Me: He’s in the sitting room, Mom, but he’s asking questions! Hurry, please! What are you doing mom? Did Manoj not finish the massage?
Mom’s hands flew to her mouth, muffling a gasp, her face pale, her boobs heaving as she whispered to Manoj, her voice frantic. She didn't know what to do and things were going really fast. Could this be the last time my mom and dad will see each other after they divorce?
Mom: Manoj, what am I going to do? My husband Amit is here—he’ll divorce me if he finds us! Please, we have to stop!
Manoj: Relax, my sweet. He’s downstairs, clueless. Just keep that ass open, and we’ll finish quick.
Mom: No, Manoj, are you out of your mind? You don’t understand! My marriage, my son—everything’s at stake! Why don’t you care? This is risky please enough of this aaahhh aooooohhhhh
Manoj didn’t care, his eyes gleaming with defiance, his hands caressing her ass as he gave slow, deliberate pushes, his cock sliding in and out, savoring her asshole’s grip.
His thrusts were measured, almost taunting, the bed creaking softly, a stark contrast to the earlier frenzy. Mom’s body trembled, her ass cheeks quivering, her face a mix of terror and unwilling pleasure, her asshole stretched around his shaft, juices dripping onto the sheets.
I knocked again, harder, my voice shaking, my eyes darting behind me to check for Dad’s shadow on the stairs. I was afraid if he would climb the stairs again. Tension coiled in my gut, a cold sweat soaking my shirt, every second a ticking bomb.
Me: Mom, please! Dad’s waiting—he really wants to see you! Come out now! He is coming upstairs
Mom pushed against Manoj, her hands shoving his chest, her legs kicking to dislodge him, her voice a desperate hiss.
Mom: Manoj, stop it! Don't ruin my marriage. My husband Amit is downstairs—we can’t keep going! Please, just stop for a minute! Aaahhhh ooohhh shit remove your dick please oooohh Manoj please this is risky.
Manoj: Stop? My darling, your ass is too fucking good to quit now. Why’re you panicking? He’s not coming up.
Mom: You’re ruining my life! I need to go to him, or he’ll suspect something! Why are you so reckless? I can't afford to let him see what I am doing
Manoj: Reckless? I’m giving you what you crave, you slutty goddess. Let’s finish, then you can play the good wife. Open your asscheeks more you slut
Mom: Aaahhh oooooooohh ssshitt aaaahh!!! No, Manoj, I’m begging you—pull out, just for a minute! I can’t face Amit like this! Please, have some mercy!
Manoj sighed, his grin fading, and slowly withdrew his cock, the shaft slick with oil and juices.
Mom shouted in relief, “AAHH!” her body collapsing onto the bed, her asshole gaping wide, a dark, stretched hole, red and raw, leaking a mix of oil and her body’s fluids. It was dirty.
I couldn’t believe how gaped it was—her asshole, once tight, now a cavern, the rim swollen, unable to close. The butt plug had loosened her, but Manoj’s relentless fucking had ruined it, transforming her into a slut.
![[Image: 315709.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/bJgc2Wyk/315709.png)
picupload
All sluts take it up the ass, I thought, Shalini’s words echoing faintly, and Mom was one now, her holy vows meaningless, her body marked by sin.
Mom sat up, her face etched with worry, her hands wringing, the room’s stench overwhelming, her asshole’s odor tainting everything.
Mom: Manoj, this room smells awful! My husband Amit will notice—it’s so embarrassing! What do we do? I feel scared!
Manoj: It’s your ass, darling, making this place a fucking whorehouse. Smells like heaven to me, you filthy slut.
Mom: Don’t say that! It’s disgusting, and Amit’s downstairs! Hide! Hide! Hide now please, before you ruin everything!
Manoj: Hide? Gimme my trousers first, my sweet. Can’t run around with my cock out, can I?
Mom: Trousers? What for? Manoj please stop this nonsense! Why didn’t you keep them close? You’re impossible, Manoj!
Manoj: You were too busy moaning, darling. Grab ’em from the floor, quick.
Mom stood, her fat ass swaying as she crossed the room, the cheeks jiggling with each step, her bare pussy glistening under the dress. Manoj’s eyes devoured her, his gaze hungry, lingering on her fat ass. Her boobs, full and heavy, bounced slightly, the satin clinging to their perfect shape, the nipples still hard, a testament to her body’s betrayal.
![[Image: Gea-B3-Qz-WEAAZu-Mk.jpg]](https://i.postimg.cc/VNP3Zm5X/Gea-B3-Qz-WEAAZu-Mk.jpg)
![[Image: 5.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/SNX3yJMW/5.png)
She snatched the trousers from the corner, tossing them to him, and Manoj rummaged in the pocket, pulling out a small packet of white powder. Mom froze, her eyes narrowing, confusion etching her face.
Mom: What’s that powder, Manoj? Why do you have it? What are you planning?
Manoj: Don’t worry, my love. If Amit comes up, mix this in his juice—it’ll keep him calm. You want him out of the way, don’t you? You want me to continue fucking your asshole right?
Mom: No! I’m not drugging my husband! You are going to far Manoj! I cannot drug my husband and I don't know what that powder is. What is that stuff? Tell me, Manoj!
Manoj: It’s just a little relaxant, darling. He’ll sleep, we’ll finish, no drama. Trust me, you need this, you slutty queen. I know you want me to continue fucking your asshole while he passes out near you, right?
Mom: I won’t do it! You’re insane—poisoning my husband Amit? How dare you even suggest it! Get in the closet now and hide, I can't do this nonsense Please Manoj stop trying to ruin my holy marriage. I am a married woman, not an evil woman, I can't do this to my husband.
Manoj: Listen Rekha, It’s harmless, my sweet. You want your marriage safe? This keeps him clueless. Or you want him seeing your gaped ass? Do you want him to know that you are a true slut who had taken my dick in your pussy and sweet asshole?
Mom: Stop it, Manoj! I can’t believe you’d ask this! You’re destroying everything I care about!
Manoj: Destroying? I’m saving your ass, literally. Take it, Rekha—do it for us, you filthy goddess. Pour a glass of juice for him and mix this powder in it, he will pass out then we will fuck near him.
Mom’s hands shook, her eyes darting to the door, then back to the powder. She didn't have a choice, perhaps a portion of Manoj's evil words was making sense to her.
She snatched it reluctantly, her face twisted with disgust, not wanting to comply but cornered by fear. Manoj smirked, tucking the trousers under his arm. I could not believe what my mom just did. Did she just accept the evil words and suggestions of Manoj? Woow!!
I knocked again, my fists pounding, my voice cracking, the hallway’s stench choking me, my eyes scanning the stairs for Dad’s silhouette.
Me: Mom, come out! Dad’s getting impatient! Please, hurry!
Mom spun, her voice sharp, her boobs swaying as she pointed at Manoj.
Mom: Manoj, hide now! Don’t ruin my marriage—you’ve done enough damage! Get in the closet, quick!
Manoj: Relax, darling. I’ll hide, but only if you give me a kiss first. One sweet kiss, my slutty love.
Mom: A kiss? Now? You’re shameless, Manoj! Move, or I’ll scream for Amit!
Manoj: If you scream that is when you will ruin everything. No kiss, no hiding. C’mon, Rekha, those lips are begging for me. Make it quick, you whore.
Mom’s face flushed with anger, her eyes blazing, but she was naked, her dress barely covering her, her gaped asshole leaking. I was shocked as she stormed to him, her hands grabbing his head, and kissed him passionately, her lips crashing into his, their mouths intertwining, tongues dancing in a wet, desperate embrace.
![[Image: 7.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/wMKzzLjb/7.png)
I thought she loved his lips, despite his bad stinky breath, the faint reek of saliva and lust. Manoj’s hand slid between her sweaty asscheeks, his middle finger probing her asshole, pushing in deep. Mom jolted, her body tensing, a muffled moan escaping their locked lips, her hips twitching as his finger invaded her raw, gaped hole.
She didn't want his middle finger around her already sore asshole.
Her ass swayed left and right, trying to dislodge his finger, but it was buried deep, wiggling inside, stretching her asshole further. She pushed against his chest, her nails digging in, trying to move away, her boobs pressed against him, but Manoj held her tight, his other hand gripping her neck, forcing the kiss.
Mom’s moans turned to whimpers, her legs trembling, her body caught between resistance and the overwhelming sensation in her asshole. She bit his lip, hard, and twisted her head, breaking the kiss with a gasp, her lips swollen, her face flushed. How could this two illegal love birds be doing this while my dad is at home downstairs.
Mom: Manoj, your breath stinks! Stop this—I can’t breathe! Why are you so disgusting?
Manoj: Stinks? You love it, darling, you kissed me like a hungry slut. That’s the taste of your ass on my lips, my sweet.
Mom: No, I don’t! You’re vile, Manoj! Hide, now, or my marriage is ending today move please.
Manoj: Alright, my love, I’m going. I wish I destroy your marriage ooh my love. But you felt that kiss, didn’t you? Your ass is still mine, you whore.
Mom shoved him toward the closet, her hands pushing his chest, her boobs bouncing with the effort. Manoj resisted playfully, dragging his feet, grinning as she struggled. She opened the closet door, its hinges squeaking, and pushed him inside, her strength fueled by panic.
Manoj: I’m in, darling. Don’t forget—mix that powder in Amit’s juice. And Rekha, I’m not done fucking your asshole, you slutty queen.
Mom: Shut up, Manoj! Stay quiet, or you’ll destroy my life! I’m locking you in—don’t make a sound!
Manoj: Lock me up, my sweet, but you’ll beg for my cock again. That gaped ass needs me. Make sure Amit drinks it, or you are fucked.
Mom slammed the closet door, twisting the key, her hands shaking, the white powder packet clutched in her fist, her eyes darting to the door.
She looked at it, then at the closet, her face a storm of fear and resentment, her gaped asshole a constant reminder of her fall. I knocked again, my voice a desperate shout, my heart pounding, the hallway’s stench suffocating, Dad’s presence downstairs a ticking clock.
Me: Mom, please! Dad’s waiting! Come out now, or he’ll come up!
Mom: I’m coming, Sanjay! Just… give me a second, baby! I’m on my way!
My heart hammered, my palms slick with sweat, certain he’d burst into the bedroom and see Mom—Rekha—her fat ass spread, Manoj’s cock buried in her asshole, the ultimate betrayal of his holy wife.
The torn scarf on the couch, the broken high heel under the table, the earthy odor Dad had noticed—they were clues piling up, threatening to unravel everything.
I couldn’t let him see her like this, couldn’t let our family shatter. My voice cracked as I called out, desperation clawing at me.
Me: Dad, wait! I’ll go get Mom! She’s… probably still cleaning. You don’t need to go up!
Dad: Alright, Sanjay. Hurry up, though—I’m starving, and this house feels off tonight. I’ll wait in the sitting room.
Dad turned, his footsteps retreating to the sofa, the creak of the cushions a small relief. I bolted upstairs, my legs trembling, the staircase seeming to stretch endlessly, each step a thudding echo of my fear.
The hallway was dim, lit only by a flickering bulb, casting shadows that danced like spect in the cracked mirror above the landing.
As I neared Mom’s bedroom door, her screams hit me like a punch—raw, erotic, laced with pleasure: “OOOH, YES, YES, FUCK MY ASSHOLE!”
My stomach lurched, shock rooting me to the spot. Mom, the woman who lit incense every morning, who dbangd sarees modestly for temple visits, was moaning like a porn star, using “fuck” with abandon.
I’d known she was slipping—her bare pussy under the satin dress, the butt plug, her lies about Manoj—but this? Her voice dripped with lust, her holy facade obliterated.
I’d tested her with my “ass” question, and her weak lie had hinted at her sluttiness, but hearing her beg for her asshole to be fucked by the pervert Manoj shattered every illusion.
She wasn’t just trapped; she was reveling in it, her filthy asshole craving Manoj’s cock, her moans a siren’s call to sin. My chest tightened, betrayal and fascination warring within me, my cock twitching despite my horror.
I pressed my eye to the keyhole, the brass cold against my skin, and saw Manoj fucking her rapidly, his hips a blur, his cock pistoning in and out of her asshole with relentless force.
The pace was ferocious, each thrust a wet slap, her ass cheeks rippling like storm-tossed waves, the bed’s frame shuddering, its legs scbanging the floor. Ooh her poor asshole is being ravaged.
Her asshole stretched wide, the rim glistening with oil, red and puckered from the abuse, juices leaking down her thighs.
The rapid fucking made her boobs bounce wildly under the dress, her nipples stabbing the fabric, her hair a sweaty tangle whipping across her back. I never imagined the mom who I knew and taught me good manners was doing the worst sin on her marriage bedroom with another man.
Mom’s hands clawed the sheets, tearing the cotton, her knees buckling, her body lurching forward with each thrust, her moans a crescendo of ecstasy.
Manoj spoke, his voice a twisted blend of romantic sweetness and filthy slurs, his hands gripping her hips, sweat beading on his brow.
Manoj: Rekha, my darling, your ass is a fucking whore’s dream, so tight and greedy. You’re my sweet slut, loving this cock, aren’t you? Tell me you love it, my precious bitch.
Mom: OHHH! MANOJ, IT’S TOO MUCH! I… I can’t believe I’m feeling this! Why are you doing this to me?
Manoj: You like it, don’t you, my love? Your asshole’s sucking me dry, you filthy goddess. Why’s it gripping me so hard, Rekha?
Mom: I… yes, a little, but it’s wrong! Why do you keep asking me these shameful things? I’m not supposed to feel this way! Aaahhh ooohhhhhhh
Manoj: Because you’re a slut under that holy mask, darling. Is your pussy wet from this, Rekha? Is it dripping for my cock in your ass?
Mom: Stop it, Manoj! Why do you say such disgusting things? I’m… I’m not like that, I swear!
The room reeked, a filthy stench of sweat, oil, and something rawer—Mom’s asshole, its musky, earthy odor lurking in the air, seeping into the hallway.
It was unmistakable, the scent of her spoilt asshole, mingling with her perfume, a sickening blend that clung to my throat.
I knocked on the door, my fist trembling, and saw Mom’s head snap up, her eyes wide with shock, her body pausing mid-moan. But Manoj didn’t stop, his cock still buried deep in her nasty asshole, his thrusts slowing but relentless, a smug grin on his face.
Me: Mom! Dad’s home! He’s downstairs and wants to see you now!
Mom: Sanjay?! Oh God, where is he? Is he coming up here?
Me: He’s in the sitting room, Mom, but he’s asking questions! Hurry, please! What are you doing mom? Did Manoj not finish the massage?
Mom’s hands flew to her mouth, muffling a gasp, her face pale, her boobs heaving as she whispered to Manoj, her voice frantic. She didn't know what to do and things were going really fast. Could this be the last time my mom and dad will see each other after they divorce?
Mom: Manoj, what am I going to do? My husband Amit is here—he’ll divorce me if he finds us! Please, we have to stop!
Manoj: Relax, my sweet. He’s downstairs, clueless. Just keep that ass open, and we’ll finish quick.
Mom: No, Manoj, are you out of your mind? You don’t understand! My marriage, my son—everything’s at stake! Why don’t you care? This is risky please enough of this aaahhh aooooohhhhh
Manoj didn’t care, his eyes gleaming with defiance, his hands caressing her ass as he gave slow, deliberate pushes, his cock sliding in and out, savoring her asshole’s grip.
His thrusts were measured, almost taunting, the bed creaking softly, a stark contrast to the earlier frenzy. Mom’s body trembled, her ass cheeks quivering, her face a mix of terror and unwilling pleasure, her asshole stretched around his shaft, juices dripping onto the sheets.
I knocked again, harder, my voice shaking, my eyes darting behind me to check for Dad’s shadow on the stairs. I was afraid if he would climb the stairs again. Tension coiled in my gut, a cold sweat soaking my shirt, every second a ticking bomb.
Me: Mom, please! Dad’s waiting—he really wants to see you! Come out now! He is coming upstairs
Mom pushed against Manoj, her hands shoving his chest, her legs kicking to dislodge him, her voice a desperate hiss.
Mom: Manoj, stop it! Don't ruin my marriage. My husband Amit is downstairs—we can’t keep going! Please, just stop for a minute! Aaahhhh ooohhh shit remove your dick please oooohh Manoj please this is risky.
Manoj: Stop? My darling, your ass is too fucking good to quit now. Why’re you panicking? He’s not coming up.
Mom: You’re ruining my life! I need to go to him, or he’ll suspect something! Why are you so reckless? I can't afford to let him see what I am doing
Manoj: Reckless? I’m giving you what you crave, you slutty goddess. Let’s finish, then you can play the good wife. Open your asscheeks more you slut
Mom: Aaahhh oooooooohh ssshitt aaaahh!!! No, Manoj, I’m begging you—pull out, just for a minute! I can’t face Amit like this! Please, have some mercy!
Manoj sighed, his grin fading, and slowly withdrew his cock, the shaft slick with oil and juices.
Mom shouted in relief, “AAHH!” her body collapsing onto the bed, her asshole gaping wide, a dark, stretched hole, red and raw, leaking a mix of oil and her body’s fluids. It was dirty.
I couldn’t believe how gaped it was—her asshole, once tight, now a cavern, the rim swollen, unable to close. The butt plug had loosened her, but Manoj’s relentless fucking had ruined it, transforming her into a slut.
picuploadAll sluts take it up the ass, I thought, Shalini’s words echoing faintly, and Mom was one now, her holy vows meaningless, her body marked by sin.
Mom sat up, her face etched with worry, her hands wringing, the room’s stench overwhelming, her asshole’s odor tainting everything.
Mom: Manoj, this room smells awful! My husband Amit will notice—it’s so embarrassing! What do we do? I feel scared!
Manoj: It’s your ass, darling, making this place a fucking whorehouse. Smells like heaven to me, you filthy slut.
Mom: Don’t say that! It’s disgusting, and Amit’s downstairs! Hide! Hide! Hide now please, before you ruin everything!
Manoj: Hide? Gimme my trousers first, my sweet. Can’t run around with my cock out, can I?
Mom: Trousers? What for? Manoj please stop this nonsense! Why didn’t you keep them close? You’re impossible, Manoj!
Manoj: You were too busy moaning, darling. Grab ’em from the floor, quick.
Mom stood, her fat ass swaying as she crossed the room, the cheeks jiggling with each step, her bare pussy glistening under the dress. Manoj’s eyes devoured her, his gaze hungry, lingering on her fat ass. Her boobs, full and heavy, bounced slightly, the satin clinging to their perfect shape, the nipples still hard, a testament to her body’s betrayal.
She snatched the trousers from the corner, tossing them to him, and Manoj rummaged in the pocket, pulling out a small packet of white powder. Mom froze, her eyes narrowing, confusion etching her face.
Mom: What’s that powder, Manoj? Why do you have it? What are you planning?
Manoj: Don’t worry, my love. If Amit comes up, mix this in his juice—it’ll keep him calm. You want him out of the way, don’t you? You want me to continue fucking your asshole right?
Mom: No! I’m not drugging my husband! You are going to far Manoj! I cannot drug my husband and I don't know what that powder is. What is that stuff? Tell me, Manoj!
Manoj: It’s just a little relaxant, darling. He’ll sleep, we’ll finish, no drama. Trust me, you need this, you slutty queen. I know you want me to continue fucking your asshole while he passes out near you, right?
Mom: I won’t do it! You’re insane—poisoning my husband Amit? How dare you even suggest it! Get in the closet now and hide, I can't do this nonsense Please Manoj stop trying to ruin my holy marriage. I am a married woman, not an evil woman, I can't do this to my husband.
Manoj: Listen Rekha, It’s harmless, my sweet. You want your marriage safe? This keeps him clueless. Or you want him seeing your gaped ass? Do you want him to know that you are a true slut who had taken my dick in your pussy and sweet asshole?
Mom: Stop it, Manoj! I can’t believe you’d ask this! You’re destroying everything I care about!
Manoj: Destroying? I’m saving your ass, literally. Take it, Rekha—do it for us, you filthy goddess. Pour a glass of juice for him and mix this powder in it, he will pass out then we will fuck near him.
Mom’s hands shook, her eyes darting to the door, then back to the powder. She didn't have a choice, perhaps a portion of Manoj's evil words was making sense to her.
She snatched it reluctantly, her face twisted with disgust, not wanting to comply but cornered by fear. Manoj smirked, tucking the trousers under his arm. I could not believe what my mom just did. Did she just accept the evil words and suggestions of Manoj? Woow!!
I knocked again, my fists pounding, my voice cracking, the hallway’s stench choking me, my eyes scanning the stairs for Dad’s silhouette.
Me: Mom, come out! Dad’s getting impatient! Please, hurry!
Mom spun, her voice sharp, her boobs swaying as she pointed at Manoj.
Mom: Manoj, hide now! Don’t ruin my marriage—you’ve done enough damage! Get in the closet, quick!
Manoj: Relax, darling. I’ll hide, but only if you give me a kiss first. One sweet kiss, my slutty love.
Mom: A kiss? Now? You’re shameless, Manoj! Move, or I’ll scream for Amit!
Manoj: If you scream that is when you will ruin everything. No kiss, no hiding. C’mon, Rekha, those lips are begging for me. Make it quick, you whore.
Mom’s face flushed with anger, her eyes blazing, but she was naked, her dress barely covering her, her gaped asshole leaking. I was shocked as she stormed to him, her hands grabbing his head, and kissed him passionately, her lips crashing into his, their mouths intertwining, tongues dancing in a wet, desperate embrace.
I thought she loved his lips, despite his bad stinky breath, the faint reek of saliva and lust. Manoj’s hand slid between her sweaty asscheeks, his middle finger probing her asshole, pushing in deep. Mom jolted, her body tensing, a muffled moan escaping their locked lips, her hips twitching as his finger invaded her raw, gaped hole.
She didn't want his middle finger around her already sore asshole.
Her ass swayed left and right, trying to dislodge his finger, but it was buried deep, wiggling inside, stretching her asshole further. She pushed against his chest, her nails digging in, trying to move away, her boobs pressed against him, but Manoj held her tight, his other hand gripping her neck, forcing the kiss.
Mom’s moans turned to whimpers, her legs trembling, her body caught between resistance and the overwhelming sensation in her asshole. She bit his lip, hard, and twisted her head, breaking the kiss with a gasp, her lips swollen, her face flushed. How could this two illegal love birds be doing this while my dad is at home downstairs.
Mom: Manoj, your breath stinks! Stop this—I can’t breathe! Why are you so disgusting?
Manoj: Stinks? You love it, darling, you kissed me like a hungry slut. That’s the taste of your ass on my lips, my sweet.
Mom: No, I don’t! You’re vile, Manoj! Hide, now, or my marriage is ending today move please.
Manoj: Alright, my love, I’m going. I wish I destroy your marriage ooh my love. But you felt that kiss, didn’t you? Your ass is still mine, you whore.
Mom shoved him toward the closet, her hands pushing his chest, her boobs bouncing with the effort. Manoj resisted playfully, dragging his feet, grinning as she struggled. She opened the closet door, its hinges squeaking, and pushed him inside, her strength fueled by panic.
Manoj: I’m in, darling. Don’t forget—mix that powder in Amit’s juice. And Rekha, I’m not done fucking your asshole, you slutty queen.
Mom: Shut up, Manoj! Stay quiet, or you’ll destroy my life! I’m locking you in—don’t make a sound!
Manoj: Lock me up, my sweet, but you’ll beg for my cock again. That gaped ass needs me. Make sure Amit drinks it, or you are fucked.
Mom slammed the closet door, twisting the key, her hands shaking, the white powder packet clutched in her fist, her eyes darting to the door.
She looked at it, then at the closet, her face a storm of fear and resentment, her gaped asshole a constant reminder of her fall. I knocked again, my voice a desperate shout, my heart pounding, the hallway’s stench suffocating, Dad’s presence downstairs a ticking clock.
Me: Mom, please! Dad’s waiting! Come out now, or he’ll come up!
Mom: I’m coming, Sanjay! Just… give me a second, baby! I’m on my way!
30-04-2025, 12:11 AM
I scrambled up the stairs after I checked on dad at the sitting room again, my sneakers squeaking on the polished wood, the hallway’s air thick with that filthy odor—Mom’s asshole, raw and unmistakable, mixed with her jasmine perfume, a perverse clash that burned my nose.
A moth fluttered against the bulb, its wings casting frantic shadows, as I reached the bedroom door and knocked, my fists trembling, my voice a strained whisper.
Me: Mom, hurry! Dad’s downstairs, he’s waiting! Please, come out now!
Through the keyhole, I saw Mom, still naked, her panties and Manoj's trouser and shirt on the floor, her fat ass shaking as she darted to the cupboard, her cheeks jiggling like ripe fruit in a storm.
Her boobs bounced, heavy and perfect, the nipples dark and hard, her skin glistening with sweat. She grabbed a glass and a bottle of orange juice, her hands shaking as she fumbled with the white powder Manoj had given her, pouring it into the juice and stirring frantically with a spoon, the liquid swirling with faint, sinister flecks.
I was shocked—Mom, the woman who kissed Dad’s forehead every morning, was following Manoj’s evil orders, drugging her husband to hide her sin. She was whorish, her naked body a traitor, her actions a betrayal so vile I never thought she’d stoop this low.
To poison Dad, to protect her lover’s cock in her asshole, was a wickedness that shattered my image of her piety. Her ass faced me, plump and quivering, and I couldn’t believe it had just been sodomized, its gaped hole hidden but marked by Manoj’s relentless fucking.
![[Image: Gco3-QAEW8-AAu-Ol9.jpg]](https://i.postimg.cc/Yqhv7GwN/Gco3-QAEW8-AAu-Ol9.jpg)
He was lucky—too lucky—to have fucked that ass, a holy woman’s forbidden place, and only his cum inside her asshole remained to complete her degradation.
Anger surged, my fists clenching—how could she do this to Dad, to our family? Yet, a dark thrill pulsed in my veins, my cock twitching at her cheating, her obedience to Manoj’s illegal orders.
I hated her for it, but I was happy, shamefully captivated by her sluttiness, her bare ass a magnet drawing my gaze, her evil act a twisted proof of her fall.
Mom stirred the juice faster, the spoon clinking, her ass swaying, her boobs trembling, the powder dissolving into a murky haze, her face set with grim determination, a whore’s resolve to save her secret.
Footsteps echoed—Dad was coming up again, his voice calling, “Rekha, where are you?” I spun away from the keyhole, pretending to adjust my shoe, my heart racing as he appeared at the top of the stairs, his tie loosened, a puzzled frown on his face.
Dad: Sanjay, where’s your mom? You said she was coming down. This house is giving me the creeps tonight.
Me: She’s… inside, Dad, just finishing up. She’ll be out any second, I swear.
Dad: Rekha! Love, come on out—I’m home! What’s taking so long? Ooh that smell coming from this hallway is really....I don't know
Mom: Amit, my love, I’m coming, darling! Just… getting ready for you! Give me a moment, please!
Dad: Ready? You sound out of breath, Rekha. Everything okay up there?
Mom: Oh, absolutely, my love! I was just… tidying up, got a bit sweaty. I’ll be right there with a surprise for you! Give me a sec!
Dad: A surprise? You’re full of mysteries tonight, Rekha. Alright, I’ll wait, but don’t keep me hanging too long.
Mom: Don’t worry, Amit, it’s worth it! I’ve got something special just for you. Just… relax , okay?
Dad chuckled, his face softening, too stupid to suspect, his trust in Mom blinding him to the stench, the thumping, her screams. Humming an old Bollywood tune, oblivious to the closet hiding Manoj.
Mom opened the bedroom door, the juice glass in hand, her naked body glistening, her boobs full and heavy, her pussy barely hidden by the dress she’d hastily dbangd over her hips.
Dad froze, his eyes widening, drinking in her beauty, her sweat-slick skin glowing under the hallway light. I saw her too, her body a sinful masterpiece, her boobs perfect, her curves a lure, and my cock twitched again, shame burning my cheeks. This is the body Manoj just ate few minutes ago!
![[Image: lCWyftxB.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/0y92QbTH/lCWyftxB.png)
Dad didn’t know another man was inside, his cock fresh from her asshole.
Dad: Sanjay, go downstairs, son. I don’t want you seeing your mom like this. Give us some privacy, alright?
Me: Uh… sure, Dad. I’ll… wait in the kitchen. Call if you need me.
I pretended to walk away, my footsteps loud, but doubled back as they locked the door with a click, the sound a knife to my heart. I crept to the keyhole, my breath shallow, and peered inside. Dad stood, stunned, his eyes darting around the room, the musky stench hitting him like a wave.
Dad: Rekha, why’s the room smelling so odd? It’s like… something heavy, not your usual lavender. And why are you naked, love?
Mom: Oh, Amit, it’s just… I spilled some oil while massaging my back, it’s got a strong scent. I’m naked because I wanted to surprise you, darling. I’ve been thinking about you all day, wanting to make tonight special. You know since you were away for all those months, my pussy has been thirsty, I want to make it a surprise!
Dad: A surprise? You’re sweating buckets, Rekha—what’s got you so worked up? And I heard screaming earlier, I don't understand.
Mom: Sweating? Just from rushing around to make everything perfect for you, my love. The screaming was… me getting excited about tonight, silly. I was practicing a little dance for you, got carried away.
Dad: A dance? And that thumping I heard? Sounded like the bed was about to break. What’s going on, Rekha?
Mom: Thumping? Oh, that was me moving some furniture to set the mood, darling. I wanted the room just right for us. Stop asking so many questions—look at me, I’m naked for you!
Dad: You were never like this before, Rekha. You’re… different tonight, so bold. I can't believe you are talking so dirty. And... What’s that glass of juice about?
Mom: I just missed you, Amit, wanted to spice things up. The juice is for you, to refresh you after work. Drink it, and let’s have some fun, naughty boy.
Dad: Spice things up? You’re usually so… religious, Rekha. This is new, but… damn, you look incredible.
Mom: I’m still your good wife, Amit, just feeling a bit wild for you tonight. I thought you’d like seeing me like this. Let’s enjoy it, stop overthinking, my love. I want you to fuck me so hard!
Mom’s eyes flicked to the closet, to make sure the closet is closed while Manoj was inside. A secret glance, her smile tight, her boobs heaving as she leaned closer to Dad, her hand brushing his arm.
The closet’s wooden slats hid Manoj, but her gaze betrayed her fear, her fingers twitching around the juice glass. She was playing a dangerous game, her nakedness a distraction, her flirtation a shield to distract my dad. She was really good in distracting dad with her naked body.
Mom: Amit, sit down, darling. Drink this juice—it’s nice and cold, just for you. Let’s relax together, my love.
Dad: Juice? You’re really going all out, Rekha. This isn’t like you, but… alright, I’ll take it.
Mom: Good my love, drink up. I want you feeling perfect tonight. Look at me, aren’t I worth it?
Dad sipped, still confused, his eyes scanning the room—a crumpled sheet, a stray hairpin on the floor, the oil bottle’s cap loose on the nightstand.
Mom flirted harder, her voice sultry, her boobs swaying as she leaned in, her hand grazing his thigh, desperate to keep his focus on her.
Dad: Rekha, before we start, I need my documents from the bottom closet. Got a meeting tomorrow, can’t wait. I’ll just grab them quick.
Mom: No, Amit, stay here! Those can wait, darling—look at me, I’m naked for you. Let’s have some fun first, my love. I want you to fuck me hard, my pussy is thirsty and so tight for you my love, I was waiting for this.
Dad: I can't beliee you are using the words "fuck", Rekha what has gotten into you today? I appreciate it, but I really need those papers. Why’re you so insistent?
Mom: Insistent? I just want you, Amit, all to myself tonight. Forget the documents—let me make you feel good.
Mom’s hand slid to his crotch, teasing his dick over his trousers, her fingers deft, her boobs brushing his chest as she unbuttoned his shirt, her sweat mingling with his. Dad’s eyes widened, his breath hitching, confusion deepening. Mom did all this just to prevent him from reaching the closet.
Dad: Rekha, why’re you acting like this? Naked, touching me like that—you’re never this… forward. What’s gotten into you?
Mom: Oh, Amit, I just want to make you relax, darling. I’ve been thinking about you, wanting to please you. Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted, a naughty wife?
Dad: Naughty? You’re religious, Rekha, always so proper. This is… exciting, but strange. You’ve never been this wild.
Mom: Wild? I’m still your wife, Amit, just showing you how much I love you. Let me take care of you tonight, forget everything else.
Mom caressed his chest, her fingers tracing his skin, her boobs swaying, her smile forced but seductive, desperate to mask the room’s stench, the closet’s secret. She was evil, her slutty replies a facade, her hand guiding the juice glass to his lips. What a real slut my mom is!
Mom: Drink more, Amit. It’ll cool you down, make you feel amazing. Let’s make tonight unforgettable, darling.
Dad: Unforgettable? You’re something else tonight, Rekha. Alright, here’s to you, love. I don't know why you changed this much
Dad drank deeply, unaware, the juice was mixed with an unknown sinister powder, and Mom’s smile turned wicked, her eyes glinting with relief, her boobs heaving as she watched him swallow Manoj’s drug.
She was evil, orchestrating this betrayal while another man hid, her husband a pawn in her whore’s game. The drug worked fast—within five minutes, Dad’s eyes drooped, his head lolling, his speech slurring.
Dad: Rekha… I feel… dizzy. What’s in this juice? I’m… so tired all of a sudden.
Mom: Oh, darling, you’re just exhausted from work. Close your eyes, rest a bit. I’ll take care of you, my love.
Dad: Tired… yeah, maybe… but this is… weird. You’re… so beautiful, Rekha. Why’s everything spinning? I ...I...who is that man....in...the....clo...clos...cl..ooh my head ....
My mom's eyes darted behind at the closet. The closet was still closed but maybe dad saw someone inside but he was not sure.
Mom: Shh, Amit, just relax. No one is here. You are just tired. Let sleep take you, darling. Just sleep ok! I’m right here, making everything perfect.
Mom removed his shirt, her hands swift, her boobs brushing his chest, her eyes darting to the closet again, a flicker of fear beneath her evil smile. She urged him to lie down, her voice soothing, craving his slumber to hide her sin.
Mom: Sleep, Amit, just for a bit. You need rest, darling. I’ll be here when you wake, I promise.
Dad: Sleep… yeah, okay, Rekha. You’re… too good to me. Love you… so much…
Dad: But… that smell… still there… what is it? And… why’re you… so sweaty?
Mom: It’s nothing, my love, just the oil I used. I’m sweaty from… wanting you so bad. Close your eyes, darling, dream of me. Close your eyes and sleep my love.
Dad’s speech slurred, his head sinking into the pillow, his body limp, the drug pulling him under. Mom’s eyes locked on him, her smile fading, her boobs heaving with each breath, her hand clutching the empty glass.
A whisper came from the closet—Manoj’s voice, low and mocking. Mom went to the closet to open it. Mom’s face twisted with anger, her fingers fumbling with the closet key, the lock clicking open.
Manoj lunged out of the closet, grabbing her naked body, his lips crashing into hers in a passionate kiss, his hands squeezing her fat ass, fingers digging into the sweaty cheeks, pressing her against him.
![[Image: kissing.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/MTfjDnKm/kissing.png)
Her boobs flattened against his chest, her gaped asshole brushing his thigh, her body trembling with rage and fear.
Mom: Mmmmmmwwahh mmmmmm.....Manoj, stop! Amit’s right there—I’m terrified he’ll wake up! Why are you so reckless?
Manoj: That bastard’s out cold, darling. He won’t wake for hours, my sweet slut. Let me fuck your asshole right here, with him snoring like a fool.
Mom: No, Manoj, we should go to Sanjay’s room! It’s safer, away from Amit! Please, don’t do this here!
Manoj: Sanjay’s room? Fuck that, Rekha—I want your asshole with your husband right there. It’s hotter, you whore, knowing he’s clueless while I ruin you.
Mom: You’re insane! I won’t let you destroy my marriage like this! Amit’s too close—it’s too dangerous!
Manoj: Dangerous? That’s the thrill, darling. Your ass is mine, and I’ll fuck it where I want, you slutty queen.
Mom relented, her eyes darting to Dad’s sleeping form, his chest rising and falling, his face slack, a stupid pawn in her evil game. She felt no remorse, her agreement a silent betrayal, her gaped asshole a badge of her sluttiness.
Manoj pulled her to the bed’s edge, bending her over, her fat ass raised, her boobs dangling, her face inches from Dad’s sleeping body. Her eyes locked on him, fear and defiance mixing, her hands trembling as she gripped the sheets.
Mom: Manoj, I feel so slutty doing this here. It’s wrong, with Amit right there! How did I become this… this whore?
Manoj: You’re a fucking masterpiece, Rekha, a slut born to take my cock. Your asshole’s begging for me, darling, even with your husband passed out. Spread those cheeks, you filthy goddess.
Mom: Please, Manoj, not here! Amit might wake—he’ll see us! I’m begging you, don’t make me do this!
Manoj: See us? That loser’s dead to the world, my sweet. Spread your ass, Rekha, let me fuck you like the whore you are.
To prove it, Manoj moved towards my passed out Dad, Manoj's foot nudging Dad’s face, a cruel kick on dad's face, he kicked dad's face then a harder kick, sending Dad rolling off the bed with a thud, his body limp on the floor.
Manoj laughed, a guttural cackle, his eyes gleaming with disrespect.
Manoj: See, Rekha? That’s proof—he’s fucking gone, you slut. Your husband’s a pathetic bastard, sleeping through his wife’s ass-fucking.
Mom: Manoj… oh God, how could you? But… he didn’t wake. I can’t believe this is happening!
Manoj: Believe it, darling. Now get on the bed, bend over, you filthy whore. I’m fucking your ass right now, with him right there down snoring like a bastard while I fuck his treasure wife.
Mom: This is so wrong, Manoj. You’ve turned me into something evil. I… I can’t stop you, can I?
Manoj: Evil? You’re fucking perfect, Rekha, a slutty queen for my cock. Spread those cheeks, darling, let’s make this bed shake.
Mom climbed onto the bed, her eyes fixed on Dad’s crumpled form, no remorse in her gaze, her evil nature bare. She spread her asscheeks, her gaped asshole winking, slick with juices, and Manoj positioned his cock, the tip nudging her raw rim.
![[Image: Gcoxivm-WUAAoq-R6.jpg]](https://i.postimg.cc/fRWtP2RL/Gcoxivm-WUAAoq-R6.jpg)
She screamed, loud and piercing, as he entered her asshole, the sound echoing over Dad’s snores, her body lurching forward.
Mom: AAAHHH! MANOJ, IT’S TOO MUCH! NOT HERE, PLEASE!
Manoj: Fuck, Rekha, you’re so slutty, screaming while your husband’s out cold. Your asshole’s sucking me in, darling, you filthy whore. This is fucking perfect, you slutty queen
A moth fluttered against the bulb, its wings casting frantic shadows, as I reached the bedroom door and knocked, my fists trembling, my voice a strained whisper.
Me: Mom, hurry! Dad’s downstairs, he’s waiting! Please, come out now!
Through the keyhole, I saw Mom, still naked, her panties and Manoj's trouser and shirt on the floor, her fat ass shaking as she darted to the cupboard, her cheeks jiggling like ripe fruit in a storm.
Her boobs bounced, heavy and perfect, the nipples dark and hard, her skin glistening with sweat. She grabbed a glass and a bottle of orange juice, her hands shaking as she fumbled with the white powder Manoj had given her, pouring it into the juice and stirring frantically with a spoon, the liquid swirling with faint, sinister flecks.
I was shocked—Mom, the woman who kissed Dad’s forehead every morning, was following Manoj’s evil orders, drugging her husband to hide her sin. She was whorish, her naked body a traitor, her actions a betrayal so vile I never thought she’d stoop this low.
To poison Dad, to protect her lover’s cock in her asshole, was a wickedness that shattered my image of her piety. Her ass faced me, plump and quivering, and I couldn’t believe it had just been sodomized, its gaped hole hidden but marked by Manoj’s relentless fucking.
He was lucky—too lucky—to have fucked that ass, a holy woman’s forbidden place, and only his cum inside her asshole remained to complete her degradation.
Anger surged, my fists clenching—how could she do this to Dad, to our family? Yet, a dark thrill pulsed in my veins, my cock twitching at her cheating, her obedience to Manoj’s illegal orders.
I hated her for it, but I was happy, shamefully captivated by her sluttiness, her bare ass a magnet drawing my gaze, her evil act a twisted proof of her fall.
Mom stirred the juice faster, the spoon clinking, her ass swaying, her boobs trembling, the powder dissolving into a murky haze, her face set with grim determination, a whore’s resolve to save her secret.
Footsteps echoed—Dad was coming up again, his voice calling, “Rekha, where are you?” I spun away from the keyhole, pretending to adjust my shoe, my heart racing as he appeared at the top of the stairs, his tie loosened, a puzzled frown on his face.
Dad: Sanjay, where’s your mom? You said she was coming down. This house is giving me the creeps tonight.
Me: She’s… inside, Dad, just finishing up. She’ll be out any second, I swear.
Dad: Rekha! Love, come on out—I’m home! What’s taking so long? Ooh that smell coming from this hallway is really....I don't know
Mom: Amit, my love, I’m coming, darling! Just… getting ready for you! Give me a moment, please!
Dad: Ready? You sound out of breath, Rekha. Everything okay up there?
Mom: Oh, absolutely, my love! I was just… tidying up, got a bit sweaty. I’ll be right there with a surprise for you! Give me a sec!
Dad: A surprise? You’re full of mysteries tonight, Rekha. Alright, I’ll wait, but don’t keep me hanging too long.
Mom: Don’t worry, Amit, it’s worth it! I’ve got something special just for you. Just… relax , okay?
Dad chuckled, his face softening, too stupid to suspect, his trust in Mom blinding him to the stench, the thumping, her screams. Humming an old Bollywood tune, oblivious to the closet hiding Manoj.
Mom opened the bedroom door, the juice glass in hand, her naked body glistening, her boobs full and heavy, her pussy barely hidden by the dress she’d hastily dbangd over her hips.
Dad froze, his eyes widening, drinking in her beauty, her sweat-slick skin glowing under the hallway light. I saw her too, her body a sinful masterpiece, her boobs perfect, her curves a lure, and my cock twitched again, shame burning my cheeks. This is the body Manoj just ate few minutes ago!
Dad didn’t know another man was inside, his cock fresh from her asshole.
Dad: Sanjay, go downstairs, son. I don’t want you seeing your mom like this. Give us some privacy, alright?
Me: Uh… sure, Dad. I’ll… wait in the kitchen. Call if you need me.
I pretended to walk away, my footsteps loud, but doubled back as they locked the door with a click, the sound a knife to my heart. I crept to the keyhole, my breath shallow, and peered inside. Dad stood, stunned, his eyes darting around the room, the musky stench hitting him like a wave.
Dad: Rekha, why’s the room smelling so odd? It’s like… something heavy, not your usual lavender. And why are you naked, love?
Mom: Oh, Amit, it’s just… I spilled some oil while massaging my back, it’s got a strong scent. I’m naked because I wanted to surprise you, darling. I’ve been thinking about you all day, wanting to make tonight special. You know since you were away for all those months, my pussy has been thirsty, I want to make it a surprise!
Dad: A surprise? You’re sweating buckets, Rekha—what’s got you so worked up? And I heard screaming earlier, I don't understand.
Mom: Sweating? Just from rushing around to make everything perfect for you, my love. The screaming was… me getting excited about tonight, silly. I was practicing a little dance for you, got carried away.
Dad: A dance? And that thumping I heard? Sounded like the bed was about to break. What’s going on, Rekha?
Mom: Thumping? Oh, that was me moving some furniture to set the mood, darling. I wanted the room just right for us. Stop asking so many questions—look at me, I’m naked for you!
Dad: You were never like this before, Rekha. You’re… different tonight, so bold. I can't believe you are talking so dirty. And... What’s that glass of juice about?
Mom: I just missed you, Amit, wanted to spice things up. The juice is for you, to refresh you after work. Drink it, and let’s have some fun, naughty boy.
Dad: Spice things up? You’re usually so… religious, Rekha. This is new, but… damn, you look incredible.
Mom: I’m still your good wife, Amit, just feeling a bit wild for you tonight. I thought you’d like seeing me like this. Let’s enjoy it, stop overthinking, my love. I want you to fuck me so hard!
Mom’s eyes flicked to the closet, to make sure the closet is closed while Manoj was inside. A secret glance, her smile tight, her boobs heaving as she leaned closer to Dad, her hand brushing his arm.
The closet’s wooden slats hid Manoj, but her gaze betrayed her fear, her fingers twitching around the juice glass. She was playing a dangerous game, her nakedness a distraction, her flirtation a shield to distract my dad. She was really good in distracting dad with her naked body.
Mom: Amit, sit down, darling. Drink this juice—it’s nice and cold, just for you. Let’s relax together, my love.
Dad: Juice? You’re really going all out, Rekha. This isn’t like you, but… alright, I’ll take it.
Mom: Good my love, drink up. I want you feeling perfect tonight. Look at me, aren’t I worth it?
Dad sipped, still confused, his eyes scanning the room—a crumpled sheet, a stray hairpin on the floor, the oil bottle’s cap loose on the nightstand.
Mom flirted harder, her voice sultry, her boobs swaying as she leaned in, her hand grazing his thigh, desperate to keep his focus on her.
Dad: Rekha, before we start, I need my documents from the bottom closet. Got a meeting tomorrow, can’t wait. I’ll just grab them quick.
Mom: No, Amit, stay here! Those can wait, darling—look at me, I’m naked for you. Let’s have some fun first, my love. I want you to fuck me hard, my pussy is thirsty and so tight for you my love, I was waiting for this.
Dad: I can't beliee you are using the words "fuck", Rekha what has gotten into you today? I appreciate it, but I really need those papers. Why’re you so insistent?
Mom: Insistent? I just want you, Amit, all to myself tonight. Forget the documents—let me make you feel good.
Mom’s hand slid to his crotch, teasing his dick over his trousers, her fingers deft, her boobs brushing his chest as she unbuttoned his shirt, her sweat mingling with his. Dad’s eyes widened, his breath hitching, confusion deepening. Mom did all this just to prevent him from reaching the closet.
Dad: Rekha, why’re you acting like this? Naked, touching me like that—you’re never this… forward. What’s gotten into you?
Mom: Oh, Amit, I just want to make you relax, darling. I’ve been thinking about you, wanting to please you. Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted, a naughty wife?
Dad: Naughty? You’re religious, Rekha, always so proper. This is… exciting, but strange. You’ve never been this wild.
Mom: Wild? I’m still your wife, Amit, just showing you how much I love you. Let me take care of you tonight, forget everything else.
Mom caressed his chest, her fingers tracing his skin, her boobs swaying, her smile forced but seductive, desperate to mask the room’s stench, the closet’s secret. She was evil, her slutty replies a facade, her hand guiding the juice glass to his lips. What a real slut my mom is!
Mom: Drink more, Amit. It’ll cool you down, make you feel amazing. Let’s make tonight unforgettable, darling.
Dad: Unforgettable? You’re something else tonight, Rekha. Alright, here’s to you, love. I don't know why you changed this much
Dad drank deeply, unaware, the juice was mixed with an unknown sinister powder, and Mom’s smile turned wicked, her eyes glinting with relief, her boobs heaving as she watched him swallow Manoj’s drug.
She was evil, orchestrating this betrayal while another man hid, her husband a pawn in her whore’s game. The drug worked fast—within five minutes, Dad’s eyes drooped, his head lolling, his speech slurring.
Dad: Rekha… I feel… dizzy. What’s in this juice? I’m… so tired all of a sudden.
Mom: Oh, darling, you’re just exhausted from work. Close your eyes, rest a bit. I’ll take care of you, my love.
Dad: Tired… yeah, maybe… but this is… weird. You’re… so beautiful, Rekha. Why’s everything spinning? I ...I...who is that man....in...the....clo...clos...cl..ooh my head ....
My mom's eyes darted behind at the closet. The closet was still closed but maybe dad saw someone inside but he was not sure.
Mom: Shh, Amit, just relax. No one is here. You are just tired. Let sleep take you, darling. Just sleep ok! I’m right here, making everything perfect.
Mom removed his shirt, her hands swift, her boobs brushing his chest, her eyes darting to the closet again, a flicker of fear beneath her evil smile. She urged him to lie down, her voice soothing, craving his slumber to hide her sin.
Mom: Sleep, Amit, just for a bit. You need rest, darling. I’ll be here when you wake, I promise.
Dad: Sleep… yeah, okay, Rekha. You’re… too good to me. Love you… so much…
Dad: But… that smell… still there… what is it? And… why’re you… so sweaty?
Mom: It’s nothing, my love, just the oil I used. I’m sweaty from… wanting you so bad. Close your eyes, darling, dream of me. Close your eyes and sleep my love.
Dad’s speech slurred, his head sinking into the pillow, his body limp, the drug pulling him under. Mom’s eyes locked on him, her smile fading, her boobs heaving with each breath, her hand clutching the empty glass.
A whisper came from the closet—Manoj’s voice, low and mocking. Mom went to the closet to open it. Mom’s face twisted with anger, her fingers fumbling with the closet key, the lock clicking open.
Manoj lunged out of the closet, grabbing her naked body, his lips crashing into hers in a passionate kiss, his hands squeezing her fat ass, fingers digging into the sweaty cheeks, pressing her against him.
Her boobs flattened against his chest, her gaped asshole brushing his thigh, her body trembling with rage and fear.
Mom: Mmmmmmwwahh mmmmmm.....Manoj, stop! Amit’s right there—I’m terrified he’ll wake up! Why are you so reckless?
Manoj: That bastard’s out cold, darling. He won’t wake for hours, my sweet slut. Let me fuck your asshole right here, with him snoring like a fool.
Mom: No, Manoj, we should go to Sanjay’s room! It’s safer, away from Amit! Please, don’t do this here!
Manoj: Sanjay’s room? Fuck that, Rekha—I want your asshole with your husband right there. It’s hotter, you whore, knowing he’s clueless while I ruin you.
Mom: You’re insane! I won’t let you destroy my marriage like this! Amit’s too close—it’s too dangerous!
Manoj: Dangerous? That’s the thrill, darling. Your ass is mine, and I’ll fuck it where I want, you slutty queen.
Mom relented, her eyes darting to Dad’s sleeping form, his chest rising and falling, his face slack, a stupid pawn in her evil game. She felt no remorse, her agreement a silent betrayal, her gaped asshole a badge of her sluttiness.
Manoj pulled her to the bed’s edge, bending her over, her fat ass raised, her boobs dangling, her face inches from Dad’s sleeping body. Her eyes locked on him, fear and defiance mixing, her hands trembling as she gripped the sheets.
Mom: Manoj, I feel so slutty doing this here. It’s wrong, with Amit right there! How did I become this… this whore?
Manoj: You’re a fucking masterpiece, Rekha, a slut born to take my cock. Your asshole’s begging for me, darling, even with your husband passed out. Spread those cheeks, you filthy goddess.
Mom: Please, Manoj, not here! Amit might wake—he’ll see us! I’m begging you, don’t make me do this!
Manoj: See us? That loser’s dead to the world, my sweet. Spread your ass, Rekha, let me fuck you like the whore you are.
To prove it, Manoj moved towards my passed out Dad, Manoj's foot nudging Dad’s face, a cruel kick on dad's face, he kicked dad's face then a harder kick, sending Dad rolling off the bed with a thud, his body limp on the floor.
Manoj laughed, a guttural cackle, his eyes gleaming with disrespect.
Manoj: See, Rekha? That’s proof—he’s fucking gone, you slut. Your husband’s a pathetic bastard, sleeping through his wife’s ass-fucking.
Mom: Manoj… oh God, how could you? But… he didn’t wake. I can’t believe this is happening!
Manoj: Believe it, darling. Now get on the bed, bend over, you filthy whore. I’m fucking your ass right now, with him right there down snoring like a bastard while I fuck his treasure wife.
Mom: This is so wrong, Manoj. You’ve turned me into something evil. I… I can’t stop you, can I?
Manoj: Evil? You’re fucking perfect, Rekha, a slutty queen for my cock. Spread those cheeks, darling, let’s make this bed shake.
Mom climbed onto the bed, her eyes fixed on Dad’s crumpled form, no remorse in her gaze, her evil nature bare. She spread her asscheeks, her gaped asshole winking, slick with juices, and Manoj positioned his cock, the tip nudging her raw rim.
She screamed, loud and piercing, as he entered her asshole, the sound echoing over Dad’s snores, her body lurching forward.
Mom: AAAHHH! MANOJ, IT’S TOO MUCH! NOT HERE, PLEASE!
Manoj: Fuck, Rekha, you’re so slutty, screaming while your husband’s out cold. Your asshole’s sucking me in, darling, you filthy whore. This is fucking perfect, you slutty queen
30-04-2025, 10:16 PM
30-04-2025, 10:19 PM
01-05-2025, 04:21 PM
The bedroom was a crucible of sin, its air saturated with the rancid, earthy stench of Mom’s asshole, a dirty odor that clawed at my throat, mingling with the sour reek of Manoj’s sweat and the faint, dirty sweetness of a cracked jasmine candle on the dresser, its wax pooling like tears.
Dad lay crumpled on the floor, his drugged snores a guttural drone, his cheek smeared with dust from Manoj’s cruel kick, a half-spilled glass of orange juice beside him, its sticky residue glinting in the dim light.
My mom screamed, “AAAHHH! MANOJ, IT’S TOO MUCH!” as Manoj pushed his cock deeper into her asshole, the tip stretching her gaped, red rim, slick with oil and her body’s juices.
Her naked body shimmered with sweat, her fat ass raised on the bed’s edge, the cheeks quivering like storm-tossed dunes, her big boobs dangling, nipples hard as polished agates, rivulets of perspiration tracing the curves of her spine, pooling in the hollow above her ass.
![[Image: 4.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/d1wP0LHV/4.png)
upload image website
Manoj’s cock pressed forward, and Mom’s asshole opened wider, the rim parting like a velvet curtain, soft and pliant from the butt plug’s earlier stretching, now yielding to his thick shaft, the flesh trembling as it engulfed him inch by inch.
Mom's cute asshole rim was red, swollen, glistening with oil, a delicate pink star transformed into a loose, hungry maw, its edges pulsing with each thrust. Her asshole was opening wider and wider as Manoj's dick dug deeper in her asshole.
Manoj’s hands gripped her hips, his fingers sinking into the jiggly flesh, his eyes gleaming with predatory lust as he spoke, his voice a twisted blend of romance and filth.
Manoj: Rekha, my darling, your asshole feels like a fucking paradise, so warm and tight, you slutty queen. It’s sucking my cock like it was born for it, my sweet whore. Push back, love, let this precious hole take me deeper.
Mom: OOH YESS, MANOJ! It’s… so overwhelming, I can’t control this feeling! Why does it feel so strong, you disgusting beast ooohh ooohhh Manooojjj ooooooh eeeeeeeee aaii aiii aaii eeeeehh ooooh please yes yes oh oh dd slowly dear please do it slowly
Manoj: Shut up my slut! I see you’re a filthy goddess, Rekha, built for my cock, darling. Your ass is a treasure, gripping me like a lover, you bitch. Move those hips, make it sing for me, my precious slut. You were religious earlier but now a slut
Mom pushed back, her ass cheeks spreading wider, the flesh parting to reveal her gaped asshole, her knees digging into the mattress, the bed’s springs creaking like a ship in a gale. Woow my mom was being such a slut.
Her hips rocked, a slow, deliberate grind, and Manoj’s cock slid deeper, three-quarters of its length now buried, the glistening shaft stretching her rim to its limit, juices leaking down her thighs, soaking the sheets in a dark, shameful stain.
I couldn’t believe this was my Mom—the woman who braided her hair with jasmine flowers, who whispered prayers at dawn—her holy body a whore’s playground, her asshole yielding to Manoj’s cock, her moans a betrayal of everything sacred.
She wasn’t the pious mother I’d known; she was a slut, her face contorted in ecstasy, sweat matting her hair, her lips parted, spilling words like “OOH YESS, FUCK ME!” that seared my soul.
Manoj held her fat ass, his hands kneading the flesh like dough, pounding deeper, each thrust a wet, resonant slap, her cheeks rippling like waves crashing on a jagged shore.
Mom didn’t deny it anymore; she moaned, her voice a siren’s wail, “OOH YESS, MANOJ, FUCK MY ASSHOLE HARDER! I don't care from now onwards, I am a real slut you made me a slut and now let me be a good slut” the words dripping with lust, her body alive with forbidden pleasure.
I stood at the keyhole, my hand in my pants, rubbing my dick, a perverse thrill surging through me like a wildfire. I was angry with myself for rubbing my dick while seeing my mom being assfucked by another man.
What kind of a son am I? What kind of a son sees his mom being fucked in her fat ass and he rubs his dick while continuing to watch? What am I doing? But I couldn't control myself.
Dad’s passed-out body, sprawled inches from Mom’s sodomized ass, made it unbearably erotic—his wife, his holy treasure, fucked in her dirtiest hole while he lay oblivious, a drugged fool.
![[Image: 4.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/SsYh5wvW/4.png)
I didn’t feel bad; I felt good, my cock throbbing as I stroked, the betrayal a dark symphony that set my blood ablaze. Mom’s sluttiness, her moans, Manoj’s cock plunging into her asshole—it was wrong, vile, but I loved it, my hand moving faster, my breath ragged, my shame drowned by the intoxicating sight.
The intensity of how Manoj dick ravaging mom's asshole made it certain that my mom's asshole was so much loose by now. It was not tighter anymore!
I didn’t pity Dad; I envied Manoj, his luck in claiming Mom’s precious asshole, a forbidden jewel he hadn’t yet filled with his cum. To be honest, every body in our neighborhood, especially the bigger married men, have always dreamt of fucking my mom in the ass.
I am sure if they were told to divorce their wives to marry my mom so that the can fuck my mom's asshole, then I am sure and gurantee that they would have divorced their wives.
But this night, Manoj was a very very very luck man to fuck this big ass of my mom.
The room’s filth was suffocating, the asshole smell of my mom now laced with a sour, metallic tang, as if the bed’s iron frame were sweating in protest.
![[Image: 6.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/Yqk5fGMN/6.png)
A shattered perfume vial on the dresser leaked rosewater, its sweetness warring with the room’s depravity, while a neighbor’s wind chimes tinkled faintly, a mocking contrast to Mom’s screams.
During the doggystyle anal, Manoj’s hands roamed, slapping her ass, the cracks echoing like thunder, her cheeks blooming red, his fingers twisting her hair, yanking her head back, her boobs bouncing wildly, sweat flying like diamonds in the lamplight.
I didn't ever imagine my pious mom would be reduce to this filthy slutty woman being fucked in the asshole so hard.
Manoj leaned closer, his voice thick with desire, probing her pleasure.
Manoj: Rekha, my sweet slut, how’s my cock fucking your asshole? Is it filling you like a whore deserves, you filthy darling? Tell me how it feels, you precious bitch. Do you feel like a whore?
Mom: OOH YESS, MANOJ! It’s… so deep, it’s driving me crazy! Why’s my body loving this when it’s so shameful. You turned me into another woman totally different.
Manoj: Because you’re my slutty queen, Rekha, made for this, my love. Your ass is singing for my cock, darling. Let it scream louder, you whore.
He spoke again, comparing her holes, his thrusts unrelenting, the bed shuddering, its legs scbanging the floor, a porcelain figurine on the nightstand wobbling, threatening to topple.
Manoj: Rekha, your asshole’s sweeter than your pussy, darling, so fucking tight and warm, you slut. It’s gripping me better than any cunt could, my precious whore. Why’s your ass so perfect for my cock, you filthy goddess?
Mom: OOH YESS, MANOJ, STOP THAT! Don’t compare them—it’s disgusting, humiliating! Why do you say such vile things, you monster?Aaahh hhhh ssshh ooh ooh ooohh Manooojjj!!
Manoj: Because your ass is a fucking masterpiece, Rekha, outshining your pussy’s wet grip, my love. It’s sucking me dry, you naughty slut. You crave this hole fucked, don’t you?
Mom: NO, I DON’T! It’s… overwhelming, but my body’s betraying me! You’re forcing me to feel this, you beast!
Manoj pushed her forward, her body shifting, her face now hovering over Dad’s passed-out form, his snores a pitiful hum, a streak of drool on his chin glinting in the lamplight. Her boobs shook, swaying like ripe fruit in a monsoon, her fat ass jiggling with each thrust, sweat cascading down her back, pooling in the dip above her ass, her skin gleaming like polished copper.
Manoj: Look at your husband, Rekha, you slutty darling. He’s a fucking pathetic loser, snoring while I fuck your asshole, my sweet. Tell me you love betraying him, you whore.
Mom: OOH YESS, NO, MANOJ! I can’t… I won’t say that! I love my husband Amit, I swear!
Manoj: Don’t lie, my precious bitch. Your asshole is being broken by my cock—say it, or I’ll ram you harder, you slut. Do you love cheating on this useless bastard?
Manoj forced her, his hand gripping her hair, twisting it until she winced, his cock slamming deeper, her asshole stretching wider, her screams melting into whimpers. Mom’s face crumpled, her resistance shattering, her voice a broken sob.
Mom: OOH YESS… YES, I LOVE BETRAYING HIM! I’m a filthy whore, Manoj, I can’t help it! Why did you make me admit this? OOohhhhhh
Manoj: Because it’s the truth, my darling slut. Does it feel good, fucking me with him right there? Are you my whore forever, Rekha?
Mom: YES, IT FEELS SO GOOD! I’m… your whore, God forgive me! I hate you for this, but my body won’t stop!
Manoj: That’s my girl, you filthy queen. Now tell your husband you’re sorry for being a bitch and whore. Scream it, darling, let his sleeping ass hear your shame.
Mom: OOH YESS, AMIT, I’M SORRY! I’M A BITCH, A WHORE! I DIDN’T WANT THIS, BUT I LOVE IT! Please Manoj stop just stop aahhhhh I can't be doing this ooooohh please easy on my asshole please!
Manoj: Louder, you slutty love. Tell him your asshole’s mine now, you filthy bitch. Make him feel your betrayal, even in his drugged haze.
Mom: AMIT, I’M SORRY! MY ASSHOLE’S HIS, I’M A WHORE! I’M LOST IN THIS SIN, AND I CAN’T ESCAPE!
Mom’s breasts shook violently, her nipples scbanging the sheets, her fat ass jiggling like a storm-tossed sea, sweat dripping onto the floor, mingling with Dad’s spilled juice. Her asshole was loose, a yawning chasm, like a velvet glove stretched beyond repair, no longer the tight star it once was, its rim red and swollen, leaking juices in a slow, shameful trickle.
I wondered why Manoj chose that dirty hole, where women shit, a place of waste, not for pleasure. It was disgusting—Manoj was disgusting for craving it, his cock defiling Mom’s precious asshole, a sacred, intimate part of her holy body, meant for private functions like shitting, not this perverse violation.
But now his cock was deeper in that precious but filthy hole that was for shitting. Ever since my mom became pious, she only knew the place for sex was pussy but not asshole. However, now, her asshole is being opened to the furthest distance.
Yet I loved it, my dick throbbing as I rubbed it with my hands, the taboo fueling my arousal, the filth of her asshole-fucking a dark thrill. Her asshole was tiny, a delicate pink jewel hidden between her fat cheeks, so hard to reach, its plump flesh a barrier, yet Manoj had conquered it, his cock claiming that precious hole.
A woman’s asshole, like Mom’s, was precious—intimate, forbidden, a secret only the boldest could possess, its tightness a rare trophy, its violation a mark of ultimate dominance, a testament to her fall from grace.
Manoj fucked her rapidly, his cock a glistening blur, coated in her juices. His dick was now coated with a brown, yellowish paste-like substance, spreading with each thrust, a warm, sticky coating I didn’t understand, my youth blinding me to its origin.
The rapid pace sent her ass cheeks clapping, the sound a rhythmic drum, her boobs bouncing, sweat flying, the bed’s frame groaning, a rusted nail in the headboard glinting as it shook loose.
![[Image: ass.gif]](https://i.postimg.cc/7ZvDQpf3/ass.gif)
A tattered prayer shawl, Mom’s keepsake from a pilgrimage, lay trampled on the floor, its silk threads catching the lamplight, a silent judge of her sin. The room’s stench grew, the asshole odor now laced with the brown paste’s sour, acrid edge, a neighbor’s incense drifting through a cracked window, its sandalwood notes a futile protest against the house’s corruption.
Manoj noticed the brown substance, his eyes narrowing, his voice clever but pointed, masking the truth with a sly tone.
Manoj: Rekha, my darling, your ass is leaving a special mark on my cock, you slutty queen. It’s coating me with this warm, thick paste, my sweet. Didn’t think your precious hole would gift me something so… unique.
Mom: OOH YESS, MANOJ, YOU FOOL! Aaahhhh! I told you if you fuck my ass like that then it was bound to get messy! You ignored my warnings, you filthy pig, now deal with it!
Manoj: Messy? Your ass is a fucking artist, darling, painting my cock with its secrets, you whore. You love this dirty gift, don’t you, my naughty love?
Mom: NO, I DON’T! It’s gross, and it’s your fault for pushing so hard! Why do you make everything so vile, Manoj?
Manoj leaned in, his thrusts unrelenting, and reminded her of her complicity, his voice a taunting mix of accusation and lust.
Manoj: Rekha, my sweet slut, you wanted this when you drugged your husband, you filthy darling. You poured that powder in his juice, you whore, to keep him out while I fuck your ass. Admit it, you craved this betrayal, my precious bitch.
Mom: OOH YESS, NO, MANOJ! I didn’t want this—I was forced, you monster! I drugged him to save my marriage, not to become your slut!
Manoj: Save your marriage? You’re moaning like a whore, darling, with his cock in your ass, you slutty queen. You chose this, Rekha, and your ass loves it, my naughty love.
Mom: I HATE YOU FOR THIS! I did it to protect Amit and Sanjay, not to enjoy it! Why do you twist everything, you vile man? Aahhh ahhhhhh
The bed shook harder, its legs clawing at the floor, a chipped teacup on the dresser rattling, its floral pattern a cruel reminder of Mom’s lost innocence.
A gust from the cracked window stirred a pile of Mom’s henna-stained bangles, their clink a faint echo of her former purity, now drowned by her moans. I rubbed my dick faster, the sight—Dad’s betrayal, Mom’s loose asshole, Manoj’s brown-coated cock—pushing me to the edge, my shame buried under the thrill of their sin.
Mom’s asshole, once a tiny, precious star, was now a loose, defiled chasm, and I loved it, hated it, wanted it, my hand a blur, my heart a battlefield of disgust and desire
Manoj gripped her hips, his fingers sinking into her jiggly flesh, pounding deeper, each thrust a wet, resonant slap, her ass cheeks rippling like waves on a stormy sea. Mom’s face was a mask of conflicted ecstasy, her eyes half-closed, lips parted, sweat beading on her forehead, her cheeks flushed with a mix of shame and pleasure, her hair a sweaty tangle plastered to her neck.
The brown substance on Manoj’s cock grew, a sticky, warm coating, and he addressed it in a long, pointed conversation, his voice sly but explicit.
Mom’s moans grew louder, “OOH YESS, FUCK ME!” her body no longer resisting, her hips grinding back, her asshole loose and welcoming, the rim a stretched, red circle, leaking more juices onto the soaked sheets.
Dad remained unaware, his snores a pathetic backdrop, his body limp, a faint drool pooling on the floor beside him. Mom’s face twisted, her eyes darting to Dad, then back to Manoj, and she spoke, her voice shockingly slutty, a plea to end the ordeal.
Mom: MANOJ, CUM INSIDE MY ASSHOLE! Finish this once and for all, I’m begging you! My ass can’t take any more, you filthy man!
Manoj: Cum inside? Fuck, Rekha, why’re you talking like a slutty whore, my darling? Where’d you learn words like “cum,” you naughty queen?
Mom: I… I just want it over, Manoj! I’m tired, my asshole’s sore, that’s all! Don’t make it sound like I’m something I’m not, you pig!
Manoj: Bullshit, my sweet slut. You’re a true whore, watching porn behind your husband’s back, aren’t you? Those words don’t come from nowhere, you filthy goddess.
Mom: NO, I DON’T WATCH PORN! I’ve never done that, I swear! You’re twisting everything, you vile beast!
Manoj: The truth’s out, Rekha, my precious bitch. Only a slut knows “cum” like that, darling. You’re fucking busted, you whore.
I stood at the keyhole, my hand rubbing my dick, shocked that Mom knew words like “cum,” a term she’d never uttered, her holy facade hiding a secret filth. I wondered where she’d learned it—late-night whispers with Manoj?
Stolen glances at forbidden videos? She’d never spoken of such things, her prayers and sarees a mask for this sluttiness, and it thrilled me, my cock throbbing harder. One part of me felt wrong, sickened by her corruption, her asshole defiled by another man’s cock, a betrayal of Dad’s trust.
But another part was happy, electrified by the filthy anal adultery, Mom’s moans and Manoj’s cock in her loose asshole a perverse masterpiece I couldn’t look away from. My hand moved faster rubbing my dick, the shame buried under a dark, pulsing joy, my breath ragged, my eyes locked on her sweating, moaning form.
Mom’s pleas continued, her voice strained, her asshole sore from the relentless fucking, which had stretched to 45 minutes, an unbroken marathon that left me stunned. I didn’t know where Manoj’s strength came from, his hips a tireless machine, his cock a glistening spear, coated in brown paste, plunging into her ass without pause.
![[Image: 6.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/nz5B8F8V/6.png)
![[Image: 7.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/RhHf4k97/7.png)
I was sure Mom had never been fucked like this—Dad’s small dick, quick and unsatisfying, could never match this, could never stretch her asshole into this loose, gaping chasm. The brown substance increased, a thick, yellowish coating spreading across Manoj’s shaft, dripping onto the sheets.
A mystery to my young mind, its sour stench mixing with the room’s filth, a testament to the depravity of their act.
Manoj noticed the growing mess, his eyes narrowing, and he pulled his cock from her asshole, the shaft slick and brown, the rim of her asshole gaping wide, like a soft, red rosebud stretched into a cavernous bloom, its edges trembling, leaking juices and that brown paste I didn't fully understand because I was still young. He spoke, his voice commanding, ordering her to turn.
Manoj: Rekha, my darling, turn around and suck my cock, you slutty queen. Clean this mess you made, my sweet whore. Your ass’s gift needs your lips now, you filthy love.
Mom: OOH YESS, MANOJ, NO! I… I can’t do that, it’s too disgusting! Please, don’t make me, you vile man!
Manoj: Don’t play shy, my precious slut. Get on your knees and suck it, darling. Your ass made this, you clean it, you whore. Clean my dirty dick which came from your asshole right now!
I was shocked—Mom didn’t protest, turning quickly, her fat ass shaking as she spun, her boobs bouncing, her face pale but determined. I thought she complied to make him finish, to end the ordeal, but her speed betrayed a whore’s instinct, her body trained by Manoj’s dominance.
She felt bad, I could see it—her eyes flicked to Dad, guilt flashing as she faced the man fucking her in front of her drugged husband, her asshole raw and leaking.
She knelt, staring at Manoj’s cock, the brown-coated shaft glistening, a sour, filthy stench wafting from it. She hesitated, her fingers trembling, holding it with just her fingertips, as if she was not sure what she was holding, her face twisted with disgust.
Manoj: Why’re you hesitating, Rekha, my sweet slut? It’s your ass’s work, darling, nothing new for a whore like you. Suck it clean, now, you filthy bitch.
Mom: MANOJ, PLEASE! It’s… too gross, I can’t put that in my mouth! Let me wipe it first, I’m begging you!
Manoj: Wipe it? I don’t fucking care, you slutty queen. Clean me with your lips, darling, or I’ll make you regret it, you whore. You made my dick dirty and it is your duty as a slutty wife to clean my dick! Do it Rekha!
Mom: NO, MANOJ, I’LL GAG! It smells awful, it was from my asshole, let me clean it first, please! I can’t do this, it’s too much!
Manoj slapped her, a sharp crack across her cheek, his hand grabbing her hair, yanking her head toward his cock, but Mom resisted, her lips sealed, her eyes watering. She pleaded, her voice desperate, and he relented slightly, his grin cruel.
Mom: MANOJ, LET ME WIPE IT! I’ll suck it after, I swear, but I can’t with… that on it! Please, don’t force me like this!
Manoj: Fine, you whining slut, wipe it quick, my darling. But you’re sucking it right after, you filthy whore. Don’t test me, Rekha. I don't care how it smells for your but you must suck it or I will make you regret it you bitchy whore!
Mom grabbed a towel from the bed, its edge already damp with her juices, and wiped his cock, her fingers trembling, the brown paste smearing onto the fabric, the sour stench intensifying, making her gag, her throat convulsing as if she’d vomit. Until now, I didn't understand what this brown substance was.
Why was my mom resisting to suck this brown substance? I didn't fully understand but I just kept watching because I knew I would ask her maybe the next day or maybe ask my dad in a secret way.
She spoke, her voice weak, her face pale.
Manoj: Don’t fucking vomit, Rekha, my sweet. You’ll mess things up worse, you slutty queen. Suck it now, darling, clean your ass’s work, you whore.
Mom: I’M TRYING, MANOJ! The smell… it’s making me sick, it’s from my ass! Why are you so cruel Manoj?
Mom started sucking, her lips tentative, barely touching the shaft, but Manoj grabbed her head, forcing her deeper, her mouth stretching around his cock, her eyes watering, her throat gagging from the taste of her asshole’s residue.
![[Image: 10.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/sX04679v/10.png)
![[Image: 11.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/PxqMQ2Dg/11.png)
She sucked like a whore, her lips sliding up and down, saliva mixing with the remaining paste, her face twisted with disgust, her stomach heaving, the sour, acrid flavor overwhelming, her body trembling as she fought the urge to vomit.
I stood frozen at the keyhole, my stomach churning, unable to believe my mom, Rekha, was sucking Manoj’s massive cock, slick with the brown, yellowish paste straight from her asshole, the filthy hole where she shits from.
Her mouth, once a sanctuary of religious prayers, chanting mantras with serene devotion, had only ever tasted pure foods and cool drinks, never anything dirty.
Now, that same sacred mouth was degraded, wrapped around a shaft coated in her own foulness, the sour, filthy stench of her asshole tainting her lips, defiling her holiness.
I felt like vomiting, my throat tightening, bile rising as I imagined the taste—her asshole's dirtiness, warm and sticky, invading her tongue, a place meant for purity, not this vile act.
Her asshole, always hidden, always smelling of shame, was now her mouth’s master, its filth a chain Manoj had forged. He stood triumphant.
His grin a predator’s, his eyes gleaming with victory, having turned my pious mother into a vessel of full filth, her mouth a sewer for her own degradation.
My heart twisted, nausea warring with a dark fascination, never imagining Mom would sink so low, her sacred lips now a whore’s tool, forever stained by her own shit’s embrace.
Manoj’s thrusts into her mouth were relentless, his hands gripping her hair, her boobs swaying with each movement, sweat dripping onto the floor.
After 10 minutes of her sucking the dirty thing, before pulling out, Manoj issued a vile command, his voice a menacing growl.
Manoj: Rekha, my darling, I want you to vomit on your husband’s face, you slutty queen. Puke on that sleeping bastard, my sweet whore. Do it, or I’ll wake him up, you filthy bitch.
Mom: (she nodded no) mmmmhh mmmmmhhh!
Manoj: Vomit on his face, darling, or I’ll shake him awake, you whore. Nod yes, you slut, and do it now.
Mom nodded, her eyes wide with fear, her face pale, and Manoj pulled his cock from her mouth, saliva and paste dripping from her lips. Manoj withdrew his cock from her mouth. The thing was so clean.
It was coated in mom's saliva which meant that she absolutely sucked it clean.
She turned quickly, her fat ass shaking, the cheeks jiggling like overripe melons, and leaned over Dad’s passed-out form, her boobs swaying, sweat dripping onto his chest.
She gagged, her throat convulsing, and vomited, a thick, yellowish stream erupting from her mouth, splattering Dad’s face, the vomit a mix of bile, brown paste, and the sour residue of Manoj’s cock, pooling in on dad's open mouth, streaking his cheeks, matting his hair.
The vomit was warm, chunky, with flecks of undigested food, its stench a nauseating blend of acid and decay, mingling with the brown paste’s sour edge, a grotesque mask on Dad’s oblivious face.
Mom’s act was a vile desecration, her disrespect unimaginable—vomiting on her husband, the man she’d vowed to honor, while another man’s cock marked her asshole.
I was shocked, my hand still on my dick, the sight pushing me to the edge, my arousal a dark, twisted flame, my shame buried under the thrill of her evil.
Manoj grinned, congratulating her, his voice dripping with mockery, as Mom spat on Dad’s face, a thick glob landing on his vomit-soaked cheek, further defiling him.
Manoj: Fuck, Rekha, you’re a true slut, my darling, puking on your husband like a filthy queen. That spit’s the cherry on top, you whore. You’ve ruined him, my sweet bitch.
Mom: STOP, MANOJ, PLEASE! I’ve done enough, you’ve destroyed me! Let this end, I’m begging you, you monster!
Manoj: Destroyed? You’re thriving, darling, vomit on your husband’s face, you slut. Keep going, my precious whore, we’re not done.
Mom: NO MORE, MANOJ! My ass, my mouth—it’s too much, I can’t keep doing this! Why do you hate me so much, you pig?
Dad’s face was a grotesque canvas, vomit and spit mixing with the brown substance’s faint traces, his snores bubbling through the mess, his dignity obliterated by Mom’s actions.
She’d disrespected him beyond redemption, her holy vows shattered, her body and soul a whore’s domain, her love for Dad drowned in the filth of her betrayal.
![[Image: 16.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/FHTtrnhq/16.png)
![[Image: 18.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/8CYqWJJm/18.png)
I rubbed my dick harder, the sight of Dad’s defiled face, Mom’s gaped asshole, and Manoj’s brown-coated cock a perverse masterpiece, my arousal a betrayal of my own father, my heart torn between horror and ecstasy
But the game was not over yet, Manoj was not done......what would he do next?
Dad lay crumpled on the floor, his drugged snores a guttural drone, his cheek smeared with dust from Manoj’s cruel kick, a half-spilled glass of orange juice beside him, its sticky residue glinting in the dim light.
My mom screamed, “AAAHHH! MANOJ, IT’S TOO MUCH!” as Manoj pushed his cock deeper into her asshole, the tip stretching her gaped, red rim, slick with oil and her body’s juices.
Her naked body shimmered with sweat, her fat ass raised on the bed’s edge, the cheeks quivering like storm-tossed dunes, her big boobs dangling, nipples hard as polished agates, rivulets of perspiration tracing the curves of her spine, pooling in the hollow above her ass.
upload image websiteManoj’s cock pressed forward, and Mom’s asshole opened wider, the rim parting like a velvet curtain, soft and pliant from the butt plug’s earlier stretching, now yielding to his thick shaft, the flesh trembling as it engulfed him inch by inch.
Mom's cute asshole rim was red, swollen, glistening with oil, a delicate pink star transformed into a loose, hungry maw, its edges pulsing with each thrust. Her asshole was opening wider and wider as Manoj's dick dug deeper in her asshole.
Manoj’s hands gripped her hips, his fingers sinking into the jiggly flesh, his eyes gleaming with predatory lust as he spoke, his voice a twisted blend of romance and filth.
Manoj: Rekha, my darling, your asshole feels like a fucking paradise, so warm and tight, you slutty queen. It’s sucking my cock like it was born for it, my sweet whore. Push back, love, let this precious hole take me deeper.
Mom: OOH YESS, MANOJ! It’s… so overwhelming, I can’t control this feeling! Why does it feel so strong, you disgusting beast ooohh ooohhh Manooojjj ooooooh eeeeeeeee aaii aiii aaii eeeeehh ooooh please yes yes oh oh dd slowly dear please do it slowly
Manoj: Shut up my slut! I see you’re a filthy goddess, Rekha, built for my cock, darling. Your ass is a treasure, gripping me like a lover, you bitch. Move those hips, make it sing for me, my precious slut. You were religious earlier but now a slut
Mom pushed back, her ass cheeks spreading wider, the flesh parting to reveal her gaped asshole, her knees digging into the mattress, the bed’s springs creaking like a ship in a gale. Woow my mom was being such a slut.
Her hips rocked, a slow, deliberate grind, and Manoj’s cock slid deeper, three-quarters of its length now buried, the glistening shaft stretching her rim to its limit, juices leaking down her thighs, soaking the sheets in a dark, shameful stain.
I couldn’t believe this was my Mom—the woman who braided her hair with jasmine flowers, who whispered prayers at dawn—her holy body a whore’s playground, her asshole yielding to Manoj’s cock, her moans a betrayal of everything sacred.
She wasn’t the pious mother I’d known; she was a slut, her face contorted in ecstasy, sweat matting her hair, her lips parted, spilling words like “OOH YESS, FUCK ME!” that seared my soul.
Manoj held her fat ass, his hands kneading the flesh like dough, pounding deeper, each thrust a wet, resonant slap, her cheeks rippling like waves crashing on a jagged shore.
Mom didn’t deny it anymore; she moaned, her voice a siren’s wail, “OOH YESS, MANOJ, FUCK MY ASSHOLE HARDER! I don't care from now onwards, I am a real slut you made me a slut and now let me be a good slut” the words dripping with lust, her body alive with forbidden pleasure.
I stood at the keyhole, my hand in my pants, rubbing my dick, a perverse thrill surging through me like a wildfire. I was angry with myself for rubbing my dick while seeing my mom being assfucked by another man.
What kind of a son am I? What kind of a son sees his mom being fucked in her fat ass and he rubs his dick while continuing to watch? What am I doing? But I couldn't control myself.
Dad’s passed-out body, sprawled inches from Mom’s sodomized ass, made it unbearably erotic—his wife, his holy treasure, fucked in her dirtiest hole while he lay oblivious, a drugged fool.
I didn’t feel bad; I felt good, my cock throbbing as I stroked, the betrayal a dark symphony that set my blood ablaze. Mom’s sluttiness, her moans, Manoj’s cock plunging into her asshole—it was wrong, vile, but I loved it, my hand moving faster, my breath ragged, my shame drowned by the intoxicating sight.
The intensity of how Manoj dick ravaging mom's asshole made it certain that my mom's asshole was so much loose by now. It was not tighter anymore!
I didn’t pity Dad; I envied Manoj, his luck in claiming Mom’s precious asshole, a forbidden jewel he hadn’t yet filled with his cum. To be honest, every body in our neighborhood, especially the bigger married men, have always dreamt of fucking my mom in the ass.
I am sure if they were told to divorce their wives to marry my mom so that the can fuck my mom's asshole, then I am sure and gurantee that they would have divorced their wives.
But this night, Manoj was a very very very luck man to fuck this big ass of my mom.
The room’s filth was suffocating, the asshole smell of my mom now laced with a sour, metallic tang, as if the bed’s iron frame were sweating in protest.
A shattered perfume vial on the dresser leaked rosewater, its sweetness warring with the room’s depravity, while a neighbor’s wind chimes tinkled faintly, a mocking contrast to Mom’s screams.
During the doggystyle anal, Manoj’s hands roamed, slapping her ass, the cracks echoing like thunder, her cheeks blooming red, his fingers twisting her hair, yanking her head back, her boobs bouncing wildly, sweat flying like diamonds in the lamplight.
I didn't ever imagine my pious mom would be reduce to this filthy slutty woman being fucked in the asshole so hard.
Manoj leaned closer, his voice thick with desire, probing her pleasure.
Manoj: Rekha, my sweet slut, how’s my cock fucking your asshole? Is it filling you like a whore deserves, you filthy darling? Tell me how it feels, you precious bitch. Do you feel like a whore?
Mom: OOH YESS, MANOJ! It’s… so deep, it’s driving me crazy! Why’s my body loving this when it’s so shameful. You turned me into another woman totally different.
Manoj: Because you’re my slutty queen, Rekha, made for this, my love. Your ass is singing for my cock, darling. Let it scream louder, you whore.
He spoke again, comparing her holes, his thrusts unrelenting, the bed shuddering, its legs scbanging the floor, a porcelain figurine on the nightstand wobbling, threatening to topple.
Manoj: Rekha, your asshole’s sweeter than your pussy, darling, so fucking tight and warm, you slut. It’s gripping me better than any cunt could, my precious whore. Why’s your ass so perfect for my cock, you filthy goddess?
Mom: OOH YESS, MANOJ, STOP THAT! Don’t compare them—it’s disgusting, humiliating! Why do you say such vile things, you monster?Aaahh hhhh ssshh ooh ooh ooohh Manooojjj!!
Manoj: Because your ass is a fucking masterpiece, Rekha, outshining your pussy’s wet grip, my love. It’s sucking me dry, you naughty slut. You crave this hole fucked, don’t you?
Mom: NO, I DON’T! It’s… overwhelming, but my body’s betraying me! You’re forcing me to feel this, you beast!
Manoj pushed her forward, her body shifting, her face now hovering over Dad’s passed-out form, his snores a pitiful hum, a streak of drool on his chin glinting in the lamplight. Her boobs shook, swaying like ripe fruit in a monsoon, her fat ass jiggling with each thrust, sweat cascading down her back, pooling in the dip above her ass, her skin gleaming like polished copper.
Manoj: Look at your husband, Rekha, you slutty darling. He’s a fucking pathetic loser, snoring while I fuck your asshole, my sweet. Tell me you love betraying him, you whore.
Mom: OOH YESS, NO, MANOJ! I can’t… I won’t say that! I love my husband Amit, I swear!
Manoj: Don’t lie, my precious bitch. Your asshole is being broken by my cock—say it, or I’ll ram you harder, you slut. Do you love cheating on this useless bastard?
Manoj forced her, his hand gripping her hair, twisting it until she winced, his cock slamming deeper, her asshole stretching wider, her screams melting into whimpers. Mom’s face crumpled, her resistance shattering, her voice a broken sob.
Mom: OOH YESS… YES, I LOVE BETRAYING HIM! I’m a filthy whore, Manoj, I can’t help it! Why did you make me admit this? OOohhhhhh
Manoj: Because it’s the truth, my darling slut. Does it feel good, fucking me with him right there? Are you my whore forever, Rekha?
Mom: YES, IT FEELS SO GOOD! I’m… your whore, God forgive me! I hate you for this, but my body won’t stop!
Manoj: That’s my girl, you filthy queen. Now tell your husband you’re sorry for being a bitch and whore. Scream it, darling, let his sleeping ass hear your shame.
Mom: OOH YESS, AMIT, I’M SORRY! I’M A BITCH, A WHORE! I DIDN’T WANT THIS, BUT I LOVE IT! Please Manoj stop just stop aahhhhh I can't be doing this ooooohh please easy on my asshole please!
Manoj: Louder, you slutty love. Tell him your asshole’s mine now, you filthy bitch. Make him feel your betrayal, even in his drugged haze.
Mom: AMIT, I’M SORRY! MY ASSHOLE’S HIS, I’M A WHORE! I’M LOST IN THIS SIN, AND I CAN’T ESCAPE!
Mom’s breasts shook violently, her nipples scbanging the sheets, her fat ass jiggling like a storm-tossed sea, sweat dripping onto the floor, mingling with Dad’s spilled juice. Her asshole was loose, a yawning chasm, like a velvet glove stretched beyond repair, no longer the tight star it once was, its rim red and swollen, leaking juices in a slow, shameful trickle.
I wondered why Manoj chose that dirty hole, where women shit, a place of waste, not for pleasure. It was disgusting—Manoj was disgusting for craving it, his cock defiling Mom’s precious asshole, a sacred, intimate part of her holy body, meant for private functions like shitting, not this perverse violation.
But now his cock was deeper in that precious but filthy hole that was for shitting. Ever since my mom became pious, she only knew the place for sex was pussy but not asshole. However, now, her asshole is being opened to the furthest distance.
Yet I loved it, my dick throbbing as I rubbed it with my hands, the taboo fueling my arousal, the filth of her asshole-fucking a dark thrill. Her asshole was tiny, a delicate pink jewel hidden between her fat cheeks, so hard to reach, its plump flesh a barrier, yet Manoj had conquered it, his cock claiming that precious hole.
A woman’s asshole, like Mom’s, was precious—intimate, forbidden, a secret only the boldest could possess, its tightness a rare trophy, its violation a mark of ultimate dominance, a testament to her fall from grace.
Manoj fucked her rapidly, his cock a glistening blur, coated in her juices. His dick was now coated with a brown, yellowish paste-like substance, spreading with each thrust, a warm, sticky coating I didn’t understand, my youth blinding me to its origin.
The rapid pace sent her ass cheeks clapping, the sound a rhythmic drum, her boobs bouncing, sweat flying, the bed’s frame groaning, a rusted nail in the headboard glinting as it shook loose.
A tattered prayer shawl, Mom’s keepsake from a pilgrimage, lay trampled on the floor, its silk threads catching the lamplight, a silent judge of her sin. The room’s stench grew, the asshole odor now laced with the brown paste’s sour, acrid edge, a neighbor’s incense drifting through a cracked window, its sandalwood notes a futile protest against the house’s corruption.
Manoj noticed the brown substance, his eyes narrowing, his voice clever but pointed, masking the truth with a sly tone.
Manoj: Rekha, my darling, your ass is leaving a special mark on my cock, you slutty queen. It’s coating me with this warm, thick paste, my sweet. Didn’t think your precious hole would gift me something so… unique.
Mom: OOH YESS, MANOJ, YOU FOOL! Aaahhhh! I told you if you fuck my ass like that then it was bound to get messy! You ignored my warnings, you filthy pig, now deal with it!
Manoj: Messy? Your ass is a fucking artist, darling, painting my cock with its secrets, you whore. You love this dirty gift, don’t you, my naughty love?
Mom: NO, I DON’T! It’s gross, and it’s your fault for pushing so hard! Why do you make everything so vile, Manoj?
Manoj leaned in, his thrusts unrelenting, and reminded her of her complicity, his voice a taunting mix of accusation and lust.
Manoj: Rekha, my sweet slut, you wanted this when you drugged your husband, you filthy darling. You poured that powder in his juice, you whore, to keep him out while I fuck your ass. Admit it, you craved this betrayal, my precious bitch.
Mom: OOH YESS, NO, MANOJ! I didn’t want this—I was forced, you monster! I drugged him to save my marriage, not to become your slut!
Manoj: Save your marriage? You’re moaning like a whore, darling, with his cock in your ass, you slutty queen. You chose this, Rekha, and your ass loves it, my naughty love.
Mom: I HATE YOU FOR THIS! I did it to protect Amit and Sanjay, not to enjoy it! Why do you twist everything, you vile man? Aahhh ahhhhhh
The bed shook harder, its legs clawing at the floor, a chipped teacup on the dresser rattling, its floral pattern a cruel reminder of Mom’s lost innocence.
A gust from the cracked window stirred a pile of Mom’s henna-stained bangles, their clink a faint echo of her former purity, now drowned by her moans. I rubbed my dick faster, the sight—Dad’s betrayal, Mom’s loose asshole, Manoj’s brown-coated cock—pushing me to the edge, my shame buried under the thrill of their sin.
Mom’s asshole, once a tiny, precious star, was now a loose, defiled chasm, and I loved it, hated it, wanted it, my hand a blur, my heart a battlefield of disgust and desire
Manoj gripped her hips, his fingers sinking into her jiggly flesh, pounding deeper, each thrust a wet, resonant slap, her ass cheeks rippling like waves on a stormy sea. Mom’s face was a mask of conflicted ecstasy, her eyes half-closed, lips parted, sweat beading on her forehead, her cheeks flushed with a mix of shame and pleasure, her hair a sweaty tangle plastered to her neck.
The brown substance on Manoj’s cock grew, a sticky, warm coating, and he addressed it in a long, pointed conversation, his voice sly but explicit.
Mom’s moans grew louder, “OOH YESS, FUCK ME!” her body no longer resisting, her hips grinding back, her asshole loose and welcoming, the rim a stretched, red circle, leaking more juices onto the soaked sheets.
Dad remained unaware, his snores a pathetic backdrop, his body limp, a faint drool pooling on the floor beside him. Mom’s face twisted, her eyes darting to Dad, then back to Manoj, and she spoke, her voice shockingly slutty, a plea to end the ordeal.
Mom: MANOJ, CUM INSIDE MY ASSHOLE! Finish this once and for all, I’m begging you! My ass can’t take any more, you filthy man!
Manoj: Cum inside? Fuck, Rekha, why’re you talking like a slutty whore, my darling? Where’d you learn words like “cum,” you naughty queen?
Mom: I… I just want it over, Manoj! I’m tired, my asshole’s sore, that’s all! Don’t make it sound like I’m something I’m not, you pig!
Manoj: Bullshit, my sweet slut. You’re a true whore, watching porn behind your husband’s back, aren’t you? Those words don’t come from nowhere, you filthy goddess.
Mom: NO, I DON’T WATCH PORN! I’ve never done that, I swear! You’re twisting everything, you vile beast!
Manoj: The truth’s out, Rekha, my precious bitch. Only a slut knows “cum” like that, darling. You’re fucking busted, you whore.
I stood at the keyhole, my hand rubbing my dick, shocked that Mom knew words like “cum,” a term she’d never uttered, her holy facade hiding a secret filth. I wondered where she’d learned it—late-night whispers with Manoj?
Stolen glances at forbidden videos? She’d never spoken of such things, her prayers and sarees a mask for this sluttiness, and it thrilled me, my cock throbbing harder. One part of me felt wrong, sickened by her corruption, her asshole defiled by another man’s cock, a betrayal of Dad’s trust.
But another part was happy, electrified by the filthy anal adultery, Mom’s moans and Manoj’s cock in her loose asshole a perverse masterpiece I couldn’t look away from. My hand moved faster rubbing my dick, the shame buried under a dark, pulsing joy, my breath ragged, my eyes locked on her sweating, moaning form.
Mom’s pleas continued, her voice strained, her asshole sore from the relentless fucking, which had stretched to 45 minutes, an unbroken marathon that left me stunned. I didn’t know where Manoj’s strength came from, his hips a tireless machine, his cock a glistening spear, coated in brown paste, plunging into her ass without pause.
I was sure Mom had never been fucked like this—Dad’s small dick, quick and unsatisfying, could never match this, could never stretch her asshole into this loose, gaping chasm. The brown substance increased, a thick, yellowish coating spreading across Manoj’s shaft, dripping onto the sheets.
A mystery to my young mind, its sour stench mixing with the room’s filth, a testament to the depravity of their act.
Manoj noticed the growing mess, his eyes narrowing, and he pulled his cock from her asshole, the shaft slick and brown, the rim of her asshole gaping wide, like a soft, red rosebud stretched into a cavernous bloom, its edges trembling, leaking juices and that brown paste I didn't fully understand because I was still young. He spoke, his voice commanding, ordering her to turn.
Manoj: Rekha, my darling, turn around and suck my cock, you slutty queen. Clean this mess you made, my sweet whore. Your ass’s gift needs your lips now, you filthy love.
Mom: OOH YESS, MANOJ, NO! I… I can’t do that, it’s too disgusting! Please, don’t make me, you vile man!
Manoj: Don’t play shy, my precious slut. Get on your knees and suck it, darling. Your ass made this, you clean it, you whore. Clean my dirty dick which came from your asshole right now!
I was shocked—Mom didn’t protest, turning quickly, her fat ass shaking as she spun, her boobs bouncing, her face pale but determined. I thought she complied to make him finish, to end the ordeal, but her speed betrayed a whore’s instinct, her body trained by Manoj’s dominance.
She felt bad, I could see it—her eyes flicked to Dad, guilt flashing as she faced the man fucking her in front of her drugged husband, her asshole raw and leaking.
She knelt, staring at Manoj’s cock, the brown-coated shaft glistening, a sour, filthy stench wafting from it. She hesitated, her fingers trembling, holding it with just her fingertips, as if she was not sure what she was holding, her face twisted with disgust.
Manoj: Why’re you hesitating, Rekha, my sweet slut? It’s your ass’s work, darling, nothing new for a whore like you. Suck it clean, now, you filthy bitch.
Mom: MANOJ, PLEASE! It’s… too gross, I can’t put that in my mouth! Let me wipe it first, I’m begging you!
Manoj: Wipe it? I don’t fucking care, you slutty queen. Clean me with your lips, darling, or I’ll make you regret it, you whore. You made my dick dirty and it is your duty as a slutty wife to clean my dick! Do it Rekha!
Mom: NO, MANOJ, I’LL GAG! It smells awful, it was from my asshole, let me clean it first, please! I can’t do this, it’s too much!
Manoj slapped her, a sharp crack across her cheek, his hand grabbing her hair, yanking her head toward his cock, but Mom resisted, her lips sealed, her eyes watering. She pleaded, her voice desperate, and he relented slightly, his grin cruel.
Mom: MANOJ, LET ME WIPE IT! I’ll suck it after, I swear, but I can’t with… that on it! Please, don’t force me like this!
Manoj: Fine, you whining slut, wipe it quick, my darling. But you’re sucking it right after, you filthy whore. Don’t test me, Rekha. I don't care how it smells for your but you must suck it or I will make you regret it you bitchy whore!
Mom grabbed a towel from the bed, its edge already damp with her juices, and wiped his cock, her fingers trembling, the brown paste smearing onto the fabric, the sour stench intensifying, making her gag, her throat convulsing as if she’d vomit. Until now, I didn't understand what this brown substance was.
Why was my mom resisting to suck this brown substance? I didn't fully understand but I just kept watching because I knew I would ask her maybe the next day or maybe ask my dad in a secret way.
She spoke, her voice weak, her face pale.
Manoj: Don’t fucking vomit, Rekha, my sweet. You’ll mess things up worse, you slutty queen. Suck it now, darling, clean your ass’s work, you whore.
Mom: I’M TRYING, MANOJ! The smell… it’s making me sick, it’s from my ass! Why are you so cruel Manoj?
Mom started sucking, her lips tentative, barely touching the shaft, but Manoj grabbed her head, forcing her deeper, her mouth stretching around his cock, her eyes watering, her throat gagging from the taste of her asshole’s residue.
She sucked like a whore, her lips sliding up and down, saliva mixing with the remaining paste, her face twisted with disgust, her stomach heaving, the sour, acrid flavor overwhelming, her body trembling as she fought the urge to vomit.
I stood frozen at the keyhole, my stomach churning, unable to believe my mom, Rekha, was sucking Manoj’s massive cock, slick with the brown, yellowish paste straight from her asshole, the filthy hole where she shits from.
Her mouth, once a sanctuary of religious prayers, chanting mantras with serene devotion, had only ever tasted pure foods and cool drinks, never anything dirty.
Now, that same sacred mouth was degraded, wrapped around a shaft coated in her own foulness, the sour, filthy stench of her asshole tainting her lips, defiling her holiness.
I felt like vomiting, my throat tightening, bile rising as I imagined the taste—her asshole's dirtiness, warm and sticky, invading her tongue, a place meant for purity, not this vile act.
Her asshole, always hidden, always smelling of shame, was now her mouth’s master, its filth a chain Manoj had forged. He stood triumphant.
His grin a predator’s, his eyes gleaming with victory, having turned my pious mother into a vessel of full filth, her mouth a sewer for her own degradation.
My heart twisted, nausea warring with a dark fascination, never imagining Mom would sink so low, her sacred lips now a whore’s tool, forever stained by her own shit’s embrace.
Manoj’s thrusts into her mouth were relentless, his hands gripping her hair, her boobs swaying with each movement, sweat dripping onto the floor.
After 10 minutes of her sucking the dirty thing, before pulling out, Manoj issued a vile command, his voice a menacing growl.
Manoj: Rekha, my darling, I want you to vomit on your husband’s face, you slutty queen. Puke on that sleeping bastard, my sweet whore. Do it, or I’ll wake him up, you filthy bitch.
Mom: (she nodded no) mmmmhh mmmmmhhh!
Manoj: Vomit on his face, darling, or I’ll shake him awake, you whore. Nod yes, you slut, and do it now.
Mom nodded, her eyes wide with fear, her face pale, and Manoj pulled his cock from her mouth, saliva and paste dripping from her lips. Manoj withdrew his cock from her mouth. The thing was so clean.
It was coated in mom's saliva which meant that she absolutely sucked it clean.
She turned quickly, her fat ass shaking, the cheeks jiggling like overripe melons, and leaned over Dad’s passed-out form, her boobs swaying, sweat dripping onto his chest.
She gagged, her throat convulsing, and vomited, a thick, yellowish stream erupting from her mouth, splattering Dad’s face, the vomit a mix of bile, brown paste, and the sour residue of Manoj’s cock, pooling in on dad's open mouth, streaking his cheeks, matting his hair.
The vomit was warm, chunky, with flecks of undigested food, its stench a nauseating blend of acid and decay, mingling with the brown paste’s sour edge, a grotesque mask on Dad’s oblivious face.
Mom’s act was a vile desecration, her disrespect unimaginable—vomiting on her husband, the man she’d vowed to honor, while another man’s cock marked her asshole.
I was shocked, my hand still on my dick, the sight pushing me to the edge, my arousal a dark, twisted flame, my shame buried under the thrill of her evil.
Manoj grinned, congratulating her, his voice dripping with mockery, as Mom spat on Dad’s face, a thick glob landing on his vomit-soaked cheek, further defiling him.
Manoj: Fuck, Rekha, you’re a true slut, my darling, puking on your husband like a filthy queen. That spit’s the cherry on top, you whore. You’ve ruined him, my sweet bitch.
Mom: STOP, MANOJ, PLEASE! I’ve done enough, you’ve destroyed me! Let this end, I’m begging you, you monster!
Manoj: Destroyed? You’re thriving, darling, vomit on your husband’s face, you slut. Keep going, my precious whore, we’re not done.
Mom: NO MORE, MANOJ! My ass, my mouth—it’s too much, I can’t keep doing this! Why do you hate me so much, you pig?
Dad’s face was a grotesque canvas, vomit and spit mixing with the brown substance’s faint traces, his snores bubbling through the mess, his dignity obliterated by Mom’s actions.
She’d disrespected him beyond redemption, her holy vows shattered, her body and soul a whore’s domain, her love for Dad drowned in the filth of her betrayal.
I rubbed my dick harder, the sight of Dad’s defiled face, Mom’s gaped asshole, and Manoj’s brown-coated cock a perverse masterpiece, my arousal a betrayal of my own father, my heart torn between horror and ecstasy
But the game was not over yet, Manoj was not done......what would he do next?
03-05-2025, 01:26 AM
03-05-2025, 01:28 AM
« Next Oldest | Next Newest »
Users browsing this thread: 2 Guest(s)