[Rajeev Gupta]

Mom knelt before Manoj, her lips still trembling from sucking his cock, the brown, yellowish paste from her asshole smeared on her chin, a sour, acrid stench clinging to her breath. 

The bed’s sheets were a sodden mess, dark with her juices, oil, and sweat, clinging to her thighs like a second skin, the fabric puckered and stained from the relentless anal fucking. 

Dad lay sprawled on the floor, his face a grotesque mask of Mom’s vomit—chunky, bile-streaked, mixed with her spit and traces of the brown paste—his drugged snores bubbling through the mess, oblivious to the depravity inches away. 

Mom’s naked body glistened, her fat ass quivering as she rose, the cheeks parting to reveal her asshole, loose and gaped, a red, swollen rim leaking juices and paste, a far cry from the tight, unused pink star.

It had been when she knelt for morning prayers, her saree modest, her body pure. Her big boobs swayed, nipples hard as river pebbles, sweat cascading down her spine, pooling in the dip above her ass, her face flushed with shame and pleasure, eyes darting to Dad’s defiled form. 

She didn’t want this done in front of her passed-out husband, the man she’d vowed to honor, his presence a constant reminder of her betrayal, her asshole’s looseness a mark of her fall from grace.

Mom spoke, her voice soft and pleading, politely urging Manoj to end the ordeal, her hands clasped, her boobs trembling with each breath.

Mom: Manoj, I aaahhh...ooohhhh I request that you please finish this soon. My body is exhausted, and my heart aches doing this in front of Amit. Can we conclude this privately, away from his presence? Aaahhhh please Manoj!!

Manoj: Finish, my darling? Your loose asshole’s still hungry, you slutty queen. Why hide from your husband, you filthy whore? He’s just a snoring loser now.

Mom: Aaahhhh shshh ooohhh Manoj, but I feel so uncomfortable with Amit here. My asshole is sore, and I only wish to ease this situation quickly. Please, can you consider my request and finish soon? Oh oh oh oh!!!

Manoj gave an ultimatum, his voice a cruel taunt, his cock still hard, slick with paste and juices, as he gripped her hips, positioning her back in doggystyle, her ass raised high.

Manoj: You want me to cum and finish, Rekha, my sweet slut? Then talk dirty, beg for my cock like a true whore, darling. If you don’t, I’ll keep fucking this ass all night, you filthy bitch.

Mom: Manoj, I’m not comfortable speaking that way. My heart is heavy, and I only wish to end this with dignity. Please, can you finish without making me say such things? Ooh please Manojjj ooooooohhh aaaiiiiiiiiii

Manoj: No dirty talk, no cumming, my precious whore. Your ass is too fucking good to stop, you slutty queen. Speak like a slut, or I’ll pound you till dawn, darling.

Mom’s face crumpled, her eyes watering, but she relented, her voice shifting to a slutty plea, her words shocking me as she begged, her ass pushing back against his cock.


She just decided to speak filthy like a slut so that Manoj will once and for all cum in her asshole and end this betrayal she was doing right infront of her husband who is passed out.

Mom: Manoj, please fuck my ass hard and cum inside me! I need your cock to fill my asshole, make me your whore! Please, give me your cum, I’m begging you!

Manoj: Fuck, Rekha, listen to you, you filthy slut, begging like a porn star, my darling. You’re a true whore, shaming your husband with that dirty mouth, you bitch. Keep talking, my sweet, your ass deserves this disgrace.

Mom: I ask you to cum in my asshole, Manoj, to make this complete! Fuck me deeper, make my ass yours, please! I want your cum so badly, fill me up! Aaaiiii iiii oooohhh uuuummmmmm ssshitt aaaaaahhhhhhh

Manoj: You’re a fucking disgrace, Rekha, my slutty queen, begging for my cum in front of your husband. Your holy prayers are shit now, you whore. Take this cock, you filthy darling.

Mom kept looking at Dad, her eyes locked on his vomit-soaked face, guilt and filth warring within her. She felt filthy, her asshole loose and leaking, her mouth tainted by the brown paste, her body a whore’s vessel, betraying the man she’d loved for years. 

The act in front of Dad amplified her shame, each thrust a reminder of her fall, her holy vows drowned in the sweat and juices soaking the bed. 







Manoj fucked her ass harder, his cock a glistening spear, the brown paste spreading, the rim of her asshole stretching wider, her moans a mix of pain and pleasure, “OOH YESS, CUM IN ME!” her body reacting with involuntary shudders. 

Her boobs bouncing, her ass cheeks clapping, her sweat flying like sparks. Her sluttiness was driven by exhaustion and desperation, her sore asshole unable to endure more, her body yielding to Manoj’s dominance, her mind fractured by guilt and lust.

I was in shock, my hand rubbing my dick, stunned by Mom’s slutty words, “fuck my ass,” “cum inside,” spilling from the mouth that once chanted prayers. 

Her transformation was complete, her pious facade shattered, her body a slut’s playground, her asshole a loose, defiled chasm. I felt a dark thrill, my cock throbbing, but shame gnawed at me, knowing I was complicit in watching, in loving this betrayal, my own father defiled by Mom’s vomit and spit.

Manoj’s thrusts grew erratic, his voice a low growl, cuing his climax, his hands gripping her ass tighter, the cheeks red from his slaps.

Manoj: Rekha, my darling, I’m gonna cum, you slutty queen. Your ass is milking me, you filthy whore. Ready for my load, my sweet?

Mom: Yes, Manoj, I  ask you to cum in my asshole! Please, fill me with your cum, I need it! Make this end, I’m begging you!

Manoj: Fuck, you’re a desperate slut, Rekha, my precious. Your ass is begging for it, darling. Here it comes, you filthy bitch.







I stood shamelessly, my hand a blur, waiting for Mom to receive cum in her asshole for the first time, a milestone in her degradation. I was shameful of myself, my arousal a betrayal of Dad. 

My excitement a twisted mirror of Mom’s filth, my heart pounding as I anticipated the moment, my own climax building. 

Mom pushed her ass backward, her cheeks spreading, her gaped asshole swallowing Manoj’s cock deeper, desperate to make him cum, to end the ordeal, her sore rim unable to take more, her body driven by instinct and submission.

Manoj’s groans erupted, his voice a primal roar, as he cummed inside my mom's asshole for the first time in her life time, his cock pulsing inside her asshole, flooding it with cum, the climax triggered by her tight, loose grip and her slutty begging.

Manoj: AAAHHH, REKHA, TAKE MY CUM, YOU SLUTTY QUEEN! YOUR ASS IS FUCKING PERFECT, MY DARLING! I’M FILLING YOU, YOU FILTHY WHORE!

Mom: OOH YESS, MANOJ, I FEEL YOUR CUM! PLEASE, KEEP CUMMING, FILL MY ASSHOLE! I NEED IT ALL, MY BODY’S YOURS!

Manoj’s orgasm was intense, his cum a hot, thick flood, her asshole’s looseness allowing it to pool deep, some leaking out, mixing with the brown paste, dripping onto the sheets, a white and brown slurry. 






He held her asscheeks, spreading them wide, looking up in triumph, his eyes gleaming with conquest, having claimed her most forbidden hole in front of her husband. 

I also cummed on my hands too, my fingers shaking, cum spilling in my pants, a shameful release driven by Mom’s degradation, her asshole’s violation, and the sight of Manoj’s triumph. 

My orgasm was a betrayal, a mirror of Mom’s fall, my body reacting to the filth I both hated and craved, my breath ragged, my legs trembling, my shame a heavy weight, yet my arousal unyielding, the image of Mom’s cum-filled asshole searing my mind.

Manoj spoke, his voice low, ordering her to raise up slightly, still in doggystyle, for a kiss, his cock still buried in her asshole, wanting to seal his dominance with her lips.

Manoj: Rekha, my sweet slut, raise up a bit and kiss me, you filthy queen. Keep that ass on my cock, darling. Show me you’re mine, you whore.

Mom: Manoj, Come here! Let me kiss you as you ask. My body is overwhelmed, but I will do this for you. Please, let this be gentle, I’m so tired.

Manoj: Gentle? You’re a fucking slut, Rekha, my precious. Kiss me like the whore you are, darling. Your ass is still mine, you bitch.

Mom raised her torso slightly, her boobs swaying, her ass still impaled, and kissed him, her lips pressing against his, a deep, submissive embrace, her tongue meeting his, the taste of her asshole’s paste lingering. 


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She kissed to appease him, to solidify her submission, her body trembling with exhaustion, her hands gripping his shoulders for balance, her sweat mingling with his, her boobs brushing his chest. 

During the kiss, she moaned softly, her asshole clenching around his cock, receiving the final sperms inside her asshole, a reflex of her body’s overstimulation, her guilt and filth intensified by Dad’s presence.

Manoj spoke again, his voice shameless, as Mom described the sensation of his cum, her eyes flicking to Dad, her face etched with worry.

Mom: Manoj, I feel your huge cum inside my asshole, it’s so warm and full. I am impressed by how you fucked me, even though it was not in the right hole. Please, can you remove your cock now? I’m worried about Amit seeing us.

Manoj: My cum’s fucking perfect in your ass, Rekha, you slutty queen. Why worry about that loser husband of yours, darling? He’s covered in your puke, you filthy whore.

Mom: I respectfully ask you to understand, Manoj, as Amit’s presence makes me anxious. I feel so filthy doing this in front of him, and I want to protect our marriage. Please, remove your cock and let us stop this now.

Manoj: Stop? I want you to shit my cum on his face, Rekha, my sweet slut. Puke’s not enough, darling—cover him in our fuck, you whore.

Mom: Manoj, What??!! No, I refuse to do that, as it’s too horrific and cruel. My heart cannot bear further disrespect to Amit, who doesn’t deserve this. Please, reconsider this terrible request and let us end this differently.

Mom’s refusal was firm, her shock palpable, her body tensing, her asshole clenching around his cock, still buried deep. She refused to shit Manoj's cum on Dad’s face, her love for her husband, though battered, holding her back from this ultimate desecration. 

The act was too vile, a step beyond vomiting and spitting, a final erasure of her vows, her guilt already crushing her under the weight of her filth, her eyes pleading with Manoj to spare her this horror.


I stood, my hand sticky with my own cum, my shock at Mom’s sluttiness warring with my shame, my arousal a dark flame that refused to die, my eyes locked on her cum-filled asshole, her gaped rim a testament to her fall, Dad’s defiled face a mirror of my own betrayal



Mom knelt in doggystyle, her fat ass still raised, Manoj’s cock buried in her asshole, his cum a hot, thick flood mixing with the brown, yellowish paste from her depths, leaking in a slow, white-brown trickle onto the soaked bedsheets. 

Dad lay on the floor, his face a grotesque canvas of Mom’s vomit—chunky, bile-streaked, with spit and brown paste traces—his drugged snores gurgling through the mess, oblivious to the sin above him. 

Mom’s naked body glistened, her big boobs swaying, nipples hard as polished stones, sweat streaming down her spine, her asshole loose and gaped, a red, swollen rim, no longer the tight pink star of her prayer days, now a cavernous, leaking chasm. 

Her face was flushed, eyes wide with guilt, lips trembling from their kiss, hair matted to her neck, as Manoj ordered her to shit his cum on Dad’s face, his voice a cruel command.

Mom thought hard, her mind racing, the cum’s mixture with the brown paste a filthy abomination, its sour, acrid stench a reminder of her asshole’s defilement, a step too far in her betrayal. 

She spoke, her voice natural but strained, explaining her hesitation, her eyes darting to Dad’s vomit-soaked face.

Mom: Manoj, I can’t do that, the cum is mixed with that brown stuff from my ass. It’s too disgusting to put on Amit’s face, and my heart breaks thinking of it. Please find another way to end this, I beg.

Manoj: I don’t give a fuck, Rekha, my darling slut. Shit my cum on that loser’s face, you filthy whore. Your ass made this mess, now use it, you sweet bitch.

Mom: Manoj, but the mixture is so vile, it’s not right for Amit. My ass is already sore, and this feels like too much shame.

Manoj didn’t care, his grin predatory, his cock still hard, slick with cum and brown paste, as he slapped her ass, the cheeks jiggling like overripe melons. Mom decided to comply, her face crumpling, guilt and filth overwhelming her, her body trembling as she nodded. 

Manoj spoke, warning her not to spill as he prepared to withdraw.

Manoj: Don’t fucking spill when I pull out, Rekha, my sweet slut. Keep that ass tight, darling, or I’ll make you lick it up, you whore.

Mom: I’ll try my best, Manoj, to keep it in as you say. My ass is so loose, but I’ll clench hard. Please guide me so I don’t mess this up.

Manoj eased his cock out, the shaft glistening with cum and paste, still hard from the thrill of her submission, the brown residue clinging to its length, a testament to her asshole’s filth. 







Mom immediately clenched her asshole, the rim quivering, a desperate attempt to trap the cum-paste mixture, her fat ass shaking as she turned, directing her asshole toward Dad’s face, the cheeks parting to reveal the gaped, red rim. 

She felt filthy, her body a whore’s vessel, her asshole’s looseness a badge of her degradation, her act about to defile her husband beyond redemption. Her facial expression was a mix of shame and resignation, eyes watery, lips pursed, cheeks flushed.

As she positioned herself, her boobs swaying, sweat dripping onto the floor.


Manoj encouraged her, his voice blending nice and filthy words, standing behind her, his hands gripping her fat ass, ensuring her asshole aimed at Dad’s vomit-soaked face.

Manoj: That’s it, Rekha, my beautiful slut, aim that sweet ass right, you filthy queen. Shit my cum on your husband's face, darling, make him wear our fuck. You’re a perfect whore, my precious.


Mom: I’m trying, Manoj, to do this as you want. My heart feels heavy, but I’ll follow your command. 

Manoj: You’re doing great, my sweet whore. Your loose ass is gonna paint him, you filthy goddess. Keep that hole ready, darling, for this dirty gift.

Dad stirred slightly, his fingers twitching, his snores faltering, but still passed out, the drugs keeping him in a haze. Mom noticed, panic flashing across her face, and she spoke, her voice trembling.

Mom: Manoj, Amit’s moving a little, I’m scared he might wake up. My ass is ready, but this is too risky now. 

Manoj: Shut up, Rekha, my darling slut. He’s not waking, you filthy whore, just shit it out now. I don’t care about his twitches, you sweet bitch.

Mom: Manoj, but his movements worry me so much. My heart’s racing, and I just want to protect him. Please, can we be quick if we must do this?

Her asshole, too loose to hold, began spilling, a dribble of cum and brown paste leaking out from her asshole, missing Dad’s face, splattering on the floor, as Manoj hadn’t aimed her perfectly. 

He spoke, his voice sharp, slapping her ass hard, the cheeks jiggling like jelly in a storm.

Manoj: Stop fucking leaking, Rekha, my sweet slut, clench that asshole very tight! You’re wasting my cum, you filthy whore. Get it together, darling, or I’ll spank you red.

Mom: I’m so sorry, Manoj, my ass is too loose to hold it all. It’s been stretched so much, I can’t tighten it more. 







Mom apologized, her voice soft, her face flushed with shame, as Manoj’s cock, slightly dirty with cum and brown paste, remained hard, the residue a mark of her asshole’s relentless violation. 

I couldn’t believe that big cock had been inside Mom’s asshole, its girth and length a monstrous intruder in her tiny, once-tight rim, now a loose, leaking chasm, a testament to Manoj’s dominance. 

My hand rubbed my dick, my shock mixing with arousal, the sight of that filthy cock a perverse thrill, my shame buried under the dark joy of her degradation.


Manoj ordered her to release, his voice commanding, as he repositioned her ass, his hands spreading her cheeks, aiming her gaped asshole at Dad’s face.

Manoj: Now shit it out, Rekha, my beautiful slut, blast his face with our cum, you filthy queen. Let it all go, darling, cover that loser, you whore.

Mom: I’ll do it, Manoj, as you say, to get this over with. My ass is ready, and I’ll try to aim well. Please, hold me steady so it hits right.

Mom let out a burst of cum, a blastful eruption, the sound a wet, gurgling “PFFFFT,” like a punctured balloon, the cum-paste mixture exploding from her loose asshole in a thick, forceful stream. 







It splattered on Dad’s face, a white-brown slurry, some splashing onto the floor, some coating Manoj’s hands, the mixture a filthy blend of creamy cum and yellowish-brown paste, its texture chunky, its color a sickening taupe, reeking of sour decay and acrid waste. 


The blast smeared Dad’s cheeks, pooling in his open mouth, streaking his forehead, matting his hair, a grotesque addition to the vomit and spit already defiling him. 

Dad’s face, still hazed by drugs, twitched faintly, his lips moving, unaware of the filth raining upon him, the mixture’s stench a noxious cloud in the room.


Manoj shamed her, his voice a mix of mockery and lust, elongating his taunts, as Mom held her mouth, eyes squeezed shut, shame overwhelming her, knowing she’d defiled her husband with her asshole’s contents.

Manoj: Fuck, Rekha, you blasted his face like a fucking sewer, you filthy slut. Your ass shat our cum all over him, darling, what a disgusting whore you are. Look at that mess, my sweet, you’ve ruined him completely.

Mom: I did what you asked, Manoj, but my heart is breaking for Amit. This was so wrong, and I feel like a monster. 

Manoj: Stop? You’re a filthy queen, Rekha, shitting cum on your husband’s face, you whore. That burst was fucking epic, darling, own it, you slutty bitch.

Mom: I followed your command, Manoj, but this shame is crushing me. My ass did this, and I can’t bear it. Please, don’t make me feel worse than I do.

Mom finished shitting it out, her asshole spasming, the last dribbles of cum and paste leaking out, splattering Dad’s chin, the rim quivering, unable to close, a loose, red cavern that marked her total degradation. 

Manoj encouraged her to turn and see the mess, his voice insistent, as she refused, her tone crying, her head turning away.

Manoj: Turn around, Rekha, my sweet slut, look at the fucking mess you made, you filthy whore. See your husband’s face, darling, covered in our cum, you bitch.

Mom: No, Manoj, I can’t look at Amit like this, it’s too painful. My heart can’t take seeing him so disgraced. Please, don’t make me do this.

Manoj: You’ll fucking look, you slutty queen, or I’ll drag you to him, you whore. Face your shame, darling, see what your ass did, you filthy bitch.

Mom: I’m begging you, Manoj, spare me this, it’s breaking me apart. I know what I did, and it’s killing me inside. Please, let me keep my eyes away.

Mom didn’t want to look, her guilt a crushing weight, the sight of Dad’s defiled face a mirror of her betrayal, her love for him twisted by her actions, her asshole’s filth a permanent stain on her soul. 

Manoj grabbed her face, his fingers digging into her cheeks, forcing her to turn, her eyes meeting Dad’s vomit-and-cum-soaked face, a sorry expression washing over her, lips trembling, eyes watering, cheeks pale, a silent apology in her gaze. 

She felt bad, her heart shattered, her body a whore’s tool, her marriage desecrated, her filth forever marking her husband.

Manoj asked filthy questions, his voice taunting, elongating his demands, as Mom refused to answer, her shame deepening.

Manoj: Rekha, my darling slut, don’t you love shitting my cum on his face, you filthy whore? Isn’t it fucking hot, darling, ruining him like this, you bitch?

Mom: I can’t answer that, Manoj, it’s too shameful to think about. My heart is heavy with guilt, and I hate what I’ve done. Please, don’t ask me to say such things.

Manoj: Come on, you slutty queen, admit it feels good, you filthy goddess. Your ass loved blasting him, darling, didn’t it, you whore?

Mom: I won’t say that, Manoj, because it’s breaking me inside. This was wrong, and I’m drowning in shame. Please, stop pushing me to answer like this.

Mom shrugged him off, her voice firm, her body trembling, as she declared she was done, Manoj laughing, his grin cruel.

Mom: I’m done, Manoj, I can’t do this anymore. My ass, my heart—it’s all broken, and I need to stop. Please, let me go now. Let me go to the bathroom

Manoj: Done? You’re a fucking riot, Rekha, my sweet slut. Run to the bathroom, darling, but your ass is still mine, you whore.

Mom stumbled to the bathroom, her fat ass shaking, the cheeks jiggling like storm-tossed waves, Manoj’s cum cascading down her thighs from her loose asshole, a white-brown stream marking her skin, proof of her rim’s inability to close, stretched beyond repair by his relentless fucking. 

The looseness was stark, her once-tight asshole now a gaping chasm, leaking filthy cum with every step, a testament to her degradation.

As Mom vanished into the bathroom, Manoj stood over Dad, muttering disrespectful words, his voice a low, venomous growl, his eyes gleaming with triumph.

Manoj: I fucked your wife, you pathetic bastard. Your holy Rekha’s ass is mine, you snoring loser. You’re nothing but a cum-soaked fool now.

While still standing, he guided his still-hard cock, dirty with cum and brown paste, and began pissing on Dad’s face, a hot, yellow stream arcing from his shaft, splattering Dad’s vomit-and-cum-soaked cheeks, washing the mess into a swirling, filthy puddle, the acrid stench rising, mixing with the room’s sour decay. 

I was shocked, my hand frozen on my dick, the sight of Manoj’s piss defiling Dad’s face a new low, my heart pounding, my arousal warring with horror, my shame a heavy chain. Dad stirred, his eyes fluttering, a faint groan escaping his lips, the piss and drugs rousing him slightly, his face twitching under the stream.

Manoj continued, his voice laced with bad words, as he pissed, the stream unrelenting, soaking Dad’s hair, pooling in his mouth.

Manoj: Take my piss, you fucking loser, you pathetic cunt. Your wife’s ass shitted my sperm on you, now I’m marking you, you worthless bastard. Stay down, you cum-soaked fool.

Manoj realized Dad was stirring, his eyes narrowing, and he spat a final insult, rushing to the bathroom, his cock still dripping.

Manoj: Shit, you are waking up, you fucking prick? Stay down, you piss-soaked loser. You are waking up now! What a bastard.



Manoj ran to the bathroom and my dad started waking up! But what happened? Will my dad get to realize what happened still in his dazed mode?



Guys give me your thoughts!

[Rajeev Gupta]

Author story as on now is ok but some lines disgusting to read. Some doubt about your recent update, husband can smell the cum and piss and they cannot wipe the evidence immediately as he is awaking.

Patience friend, don't anticipate what would happen next even before the author updates. If you keep anticipating, you will eventually get bored. Let the author guide you. Don't rush ahead of the author or think for the author.

[Rajeev Gupta]

The bedroom was a cesspool of filth, the air thick with the sour, acrid stench of Mom’s asshole, Manoj’s piss, and the lingering decay of cum, brown paste, vomit, and spit, all mingling in a noxious haze. 

The bedsheet was a sodden ruin, soaked with Mom’s juices, oil, sweat, and the white-brown slurry of Manoj’s cum mixed with her asshole’s paste, the fabric clinging to the mattress like a defiled shroud. 

Dad lay on the floor, his face a grotesque mask of vomit, spit, and cum-paste, now streaked with Manoj’s yellow piss, the mess pooling in his mouth, matting his hair, his drugged snores gurgling through the filth, oblivious to the desecration. 


My dad, due to his dazed state, was not able to activate his scent sense because the drug was still effective although minimally. Therefore, he wasn't able to smell the filth in the bedroom.

My mom—Rekha—emerged from the bathroom, still naked, her body glistening with sweat, her big boobs swaying, nipples hard as river stones.

Her fat ass quivering with each step, her loose asshole leaking a faint trickle of cum down her thighs, a testament to its stretched, gaped state. 





She carried a jug of water, her face etched with worry, eyes wide, lips trembling, hair matted to her neck, as she hurried to Dad, believing Manoj’s claim that he was about to wake up, her heart pounding with fear of discovery.

It looks as if Manoj told her that my dad was about to wake up and this made my mom panic.


Mom knelt beside Dad, her boobs brushing the floor, and poured water over his face, the clear stream washing away the vomit, spit, cum, and piss, the filth swirling into a muddy puddle beneath him. 

She grabbed a towel, its edge already damp with her juices, and wiped his face, her hands shaking, her breath ragged, as she scrubbed the mess from his cheeks, forehead, and mouth, revealing his pale, slack skin. 

My dad was still dazed not knowing what to do. He was stupefied not knowing what was going on.



As she wiped, she noticed the sharp, ammonia-like stench of piss, stronger than the cum-paste’s sour decay, and concluded Manoj had pissed on Dad’s face, her eyes narrowing, fury surging through her. 

She stood, her fat ass shaking like overripe fruit in a storm, the cheeks jiggling as she rushed back to the bathroom, her loose asshole winking with each step, cum still dripping, her anger a blazing fire, her naked body a vision of betrayed sanctity.

I heard them from the bathroom, Mom’s shouts echoing, her voice raw with rage, as she confronted Manoj, who lounged against the sink, his cock still hard, slick with cum and paste, his grin unyielding.

She was shouting at Manoj so loudly that I thought my dad would wake up but dad was still down dazed. The drug was really heavy on him.

Mom: Manoj, how could you piss on Amit’s face? That’s beyond cruel, and I won’t let you turn me into a woman who allows this! You’ve gone too far, and I’m sick of this filth!

Manoj: He fucking deserves it, Rekha, my darling slut. Your husband’s a pathetic loser, and my piss is his crown, you filthy whore. Look at your juicy ass, darling, still begging for my cock even if I already fucked it and cummed in it.

Mom: Don’t you dare talk about Amit like that, Manoj! I won’t let you degrade him further or make me someone who hurts her family! Stop this now, I’m begging you! I will not let you degrade my husband this way

Manoj: Degrade? You shitted my cum on his face, you sweet whore. I’m just adding to the art, darling. Fuck, your boobs are perfect, my slutty queen, keep shouting, it’s hot.

Mom: I did what you forced me to, but pissing on him is unforgivable! I’m trying to hold onto who I am, not become your monster! You need to stop this, Manoj, please!

Manoj: Monster? You’re a fucking goddess, Rekha, my filthy slut. Your anger’s making me hard, darling. Keep that ass shaking, you whore, I’m not listening.

Mom’s shouts grew louder, but Manoj ignored her, his eyes roaming her naked body, sexualizing her, his voice dripping with lust. She rushed back to the bedroom, her fat ass jiggling, realizing he wouldn’t hear her.

Her face flushed with fury, her boobs bouncing, sweat streaming down her spine. She knelt by Dad again, wiping his face clean, scrubbing every trace of piss, cum, vomit, and paste.

T he towel now a sodden, filthy rag, the floor beneath him a muddy smear, her hands trembling, her heart heavy with guilt for her role in his desecration.

Dad stirred, his eyes fluttering, his voice a slurred mumble, not fully awake, his drugged haze keeping him disoriented, as he spoke, confusion lacing his words.

Dad: Rekha… what’s happening? Why am I on the floor? My head’s spinning, love, what’s going on?

Mom: Amit, you’re just tired, you went to bed straight after you came home, that’s all. Don’t worry, I’m here to take care of you. Please, just rest now, my love.

Dad: Straight to bed? But… why’s the room smelling like piss and… something rotten? It’s strong, Rekha, what’s that stench?

Mom: It’s nothing, Amit, just some spilled juice that went bad. You’re imagining things because you’re so groggy. Close your eyes, darling, you need sleep.

Dad: Juice? Okay, but… why’re you naked, Rekha? You’re never like this… what’s happening? My face feels wet, too. I don't remember anything.

Mom: I was about to shower when you slept, Amit, that’s why I’m naked. Your face is wet from me splashing water to wake you. Please, stop asking questions, you’re not thinking clearly.

Dad: Not thinking… yeah, maybe… but it’s so weird, Rekha. The floor’s hard, why’m I down here? Feels like a bad dream.

Mom: It’s just a dream, Amit, you’re exhausted and confused. Let me help you to bed, you’ll feel better after sleep. No more questions, darling, just rest now.

Dad wasn’t fully awake, his eyes half-open, his movements sluggish, his speech slurred, the drugs still heavy in his system, keeping him in a fog. Mom encouraged him to move, her voice soothing, desperate to keep him calm.

Mom: Amit, come to bed, you need to sleep this off. You’re safe with me, just let me guide you. Come on, darling, let’s get you comfortable.

Dad: Bed… yeah, sounds good, Rekha. I’m so… tired. Why’s it so hot in here? The...th...the room feels so hot, it feels like someone ran in here for hours.

Mom: It’s just your imagination, Amit, you’re dreaming a bit. The room is actually cold. The bed’s cool and ready for you. Let me help you up, my love.

Mom removed the soiled bedsheet, yanking the cum-and-juice-soaked fabric free, tossing it into a corner, revealing the bare mattress, its faint stains a silent witness to her sin. 

She bent to help Dad, her fat ass raised, and I saw her loose asshole, a gaped, red rim, stretched wide like a yawning cavern, leaking a faint trickle of cum, surrounded by her plump cheeks, her pussy glistening with sweat and juices, the lips swollen, a stark contrast to her asshole’s ravaged state. 







The looseness was shocking, no longer the tight pink star of her pious days, now a defiled chasm, a testament to Manoj’s relentless fucking, her pussy a secondary player in her degradation.

Mom guided Dad, her hands under his arms, encouraging him to stand, her boobs brushing his chest, sweat dripping onto his shirt, as she spoke.

Mom: Come on, Amit, just a few steps to the bed, you can do it. I’m here, you’re safe, just lean on me. Let’s get you settled, darling.

Dad: Settled… yeah, okay, Rekha. My legs… so heavy. You’re sure this is a dream?

Mom: Yes, Amit, it’s all a dream, you’re just overtired. The bed’s right here, let’s lie down. Sleep will fix everything, my love.

Mom laid Dad on the bare mattress, his body sinking into it, his eyes half-closed, still wondering, his voice a mumble as he spoke. The bed he is laying on is the bed where pure betrayal has just happened and massive filth behind his back.

Dad: Rekha, it’s so hot in here, like… something’s off. The room’s spinning, and that smell… still there. Am I really dreaming?

Mom: You’re dreaming, Amit, it’s just the heat and your tired mind playing tricks. Close your eyes, let sleep take you, it’s all fine. I’m right here, darling, just rest.

Dad: Dreaming… okay, maybe… but it feels so real. Why’s my face… sticky? Rekha, tell me it’s nothing.

Mom: It’s nothing, Amit, just some water I splashed to wake you. You’re imagining the stickiness, you’re so groggy. Sleep now, my love, stop worrying.

Mom pulled a blanket over Dad, tucking it around him, her hands trembling, ensuring he was covered, her boobs swaying with each movement, sweat beading on her forehead. 

She caught Manoj at the corner of her eye, leaning in the bathroom doorway, his cock still hard, his grin mocking, and anger flared in her chest, her lips tightening.

Her eyes narrowing, as she stayed on the bed, ensuring Dad was asleep, her fingers brushing his shoulder, willing him to stay under.

Manoj whispered from the bathroom, his voice low, taunting, urging her to join him, as she sat, her naked body tense, her loose asshole still leaking cum onto the mattress.

Manoj: (Whispering) Rekha, my darling slut, come to the bathroom, let’s bathe together, you filthy whore. Your ass needs cleaning, darling, and I want you wet, you sweet bitch.

Mom: (Whispering) No, Manoj, I can’t do that, I won’t leave Amit like this. Don’t make me into a woman who abandons her husband for you. I’m staying here until he’s asleep, please.

Manoj: Fuck that loser, Rekha, my precious slut. Get in here, darling, or I’ll drag you myself, you whore. Your ass is mine, come wash it with me.


Mom checked Dad, her hand on his chest, feeling his slow, deep breaths, confirming he’d slipped back into sleep, his snores soft, his face slack. 

I was shocked, my hand frozen on my dick, as she stood, her fat ass shaking, and walked toward the bathroom, closing the door with a soft click, joining Manoj to bathe together while Dad slept. 

The act stunned me, Mom’s compliance a final betrayal, her naked body vanishing into the bathroom, the mystery of their bath a forbidden scene I couldn’t watch, my arousal warring with disbelief, my shame a heavy weight, the closed door a barrier to her final degradation

[Rajeev Gupta]

Mom stepped out of the bathroom, her naked body slick with water, droplets clinging to her skin like liquid diamonds, her big boobs swaying gently, nipples hardened by the chill, her fat ass trembling with each step.

Her hair hung in wet, tangled clumps, dripping onto her shoulders, water streaming down her spine, pooling on the floor, her face pale with shame, eyes flickering to Dad, asleep on the bare mattress, his blanket tucked tightly, his soft snores a fragile barrier against the truth. 

The bedroom stank of piss, cum, brown paste, and sweat, a sour, acrid fog that clung to the walls, the bare mattress stained with Mom’s juices and the cum-paste slurry, a silent testament to her defilement. 

Manoj followed mom, his face looked satisfied because he just fucked the most beautiful mom in the world, his body also wet, his cock semi-hard, gleaming with water and faint traces of paste, his eyes devouring Mom’s curves, a sly grin curling his lips. 

Mom stood, her boobs heaving with each breath, her gaze darting to Dad in fear, her heart hammering, terrified he’d stir and see her naked with her lover, her wet skin a canvas of her sin.

Mom spoke, her voice urgent, trembling with distress, urging Manoj to leave, her hands clasped, water mixing with sweat on her skin.

Mom: Manoj, you have to leave now, before Amit wakes up. I can’t let this ruin my family, don’t make me a woman who loses everything. I’m begging you, just go.

Manoj: Leave, Rekha? Your body’s a fucking treasure, I can’t get enough of those curves, you naughty minx. Why rush me out when you’re still dripping for me?

Mom: I’m serious, Manoj, no one can know about this affair, it’ll destroy me. My kids and Amit can’t suffer because of this shame. Please, swear you’ll keep it secret.

Manoj dressed, pulling on his shirt and pants, his eyes tracing Mom’s wet form, his voice a taunting mix of disrespect and desire, issuing an ultimatum with a leer.

Manoj: Secret, huh? I’ll keep my mouth shut if I can keep tasting you and your tight holes, Rekha, you tempting vixen. Your body’s too perfect to abandon, darling.

Mom: No, Manoj, I can’t keep doing this, it’s tearing me apart. Don’t force me to be someone who betrays her husband forever. Please, let this be the end.

Manoj: End it? Your skin’s begging for my touch, you wicked beauty. Not only that, your holes are craving for my dick. I have to fuck you each time I want, or I’ll spill everything to Amit, sweetheart. You’re too good to let go.

Mom: I’m begging you, Manoj, don’t make me carry this sin any longer. My family’s all I have, I can’t let you shatter it. Please, find another woman, I can’t do this.

Manoj: Another woman? Nobody matches your fire, Rekha, you sultry siren. Agree to more, or your husband knows it all, darling. I’m dead serious.

Mom argued, her voice breaking, but she relented, her eyes fixed on Dad, fear tightening her chest, as she nodded, her boobs trembling, water dripping from her hair onto the floor.

Mom: Fine, Manoj, I’ll see you, but only to keep this hidden. Don’t push me to hate myself more, I’m not that kind of woman. Please, keep your promise and tell no one.

Manoj: That’s my girl, Rekha, my tempting prize. You’ll crave me again, sweetheart. Now give me a kiss, you naughty thing, before I head out.

Mom: A kiss, Manoj? I can’t, not with Amit right there, he can wake up, it’s too much. Please, don’t make me do more, I’m already falling apart.

Manoj: Kiss me, you gorgeous creature, or I’ll wake him up, darling. Make it deep, Rekha, show me you’re still mine, you wild temptress.

Mom kissed him passionately, her lips pressing hard against his, her hands cradling his head, fingers weaving through his wet hair, her tongue dancing with his, the faint taste of her asshole’s paste lingering from their bath. 


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Her boobs pressed against his chest, her wet body slick, but she pushed him away, her hands shaking, her face ashen, as she spoke, her voice desperate.

Mom: Don’t destroy my marriage, Manoj, I’m begging you. I gave you the kiss, but I can’t keep hurting Amit. Please, leave and don’t break my family.

Manoj: Destroy? Your body’s screaming for me, you fiery vixen. I’ll have you again, Rekha, and you’ll melt for it, my queen.

Mom: Just go, Manoj, and make sure Sanjay doesn’t see you. I can’t let my son find out, it’d crush him. Please, slip out quietly, I’m begging you.

I bolted to the sitting room, my pulse racing, pretending I hadn’t seen, my dick limp, dried cum crusting my hand, a shameful mark of my arousal at Mom’s degradation. 

The sitting room was dim, a worn couch sagging beneath a crooked family portrait, the air heavy, faintly tainted by the bedroom’s stench. Manoj entered, his clothes rumpled, his grin sharp, spotting me slouched on the couch, my face a mask of innocence, my eyes wide, feigning ignorance.

Me: Manoj, why’re you here so late? I was just… hanging out, didn’t see anything. You visiting Mom for something?

Manoj: Hanging out, Sanjay? Did you catch me with your mom, kid? Don’t play dumb, I know you’re curious, my boy.

Me: Catch you? Nah, I’ve been down here the whole time, I swear. What’re you talking about, Manoj? What’d you do with Mom?

Manoj: You saw something, didn’t you, Sanjay? Come on, fess up, kid. Was it fun to watch, you little sneak? Did you enjoy me giving your mom a "massage"?

Me: Okay, yeah, I saw… the massage, but I don’t get what was happening. I’m just a kid, I was confused. What were you and Mom doing, Manoj? Tell me!

Manoj: Grown-up games, Sanjay, too big for you to understand. Your mom and I had a good time and a good massage. She just wanted a massage, that’s all, kid. Don’t stress about it, alright?

Manoj strode away, his steps bold, his shadow stretching across the floor, vanishing down the hall, leaving me alone, my heart pounding, my innocence a facade to mask my complicity. 

I climbed the stairs, my sneakers squeaking, and entered the bedroom, where Mom stood in a sexy red dress, the fabric hugging her curves like a second skin, the plunging neckline showcasing her cleavage, the short hem riding high on her thighs, accentuating her fat ass, the material clinging tightly, outlining her fat asscheeks and swollen pussy, a vision of forbidden allure. 



Manoj was lucky, his cock having ravaged my mom's holes, her body a whore’s masterpiece, her dress a cruel contrast to her pious past. She sprayed air freshener, a floral mist fighting the room’s stench of piss, cum, and paste, desperate to erase the evidence of her affair, her hands trembling, her eyes flicking to Dad, still asleep under the blanket.

I spoke, my voice curious, playing naive, as she turned, her boobs straining against the dress, her face pale, lips pursed.

Me: Mom, why’re you spraying air freshener? The room smells funky, like… something gross. And why’s Dad already asleep?

Mom: Sanjay, don’t come in, I’m cleaning the room, it’s a mess. Dad’s exhausted, he crashed early, that’s all. Go downstairs, I need to finish this, okay?

Me: Alright, Mom, I’ll go, but it’s weird to clean so late. Dad’s okay, right? You sure everything’s cool?

Mom: Everything’s fine, Sanjay, just let me take care of this. Dad needs sleep, and I need to freshen the room. Please, wait in the sitting room, I’ll be down soon.

I walked away, smiling, my anger at Mom’s cheating was gone, replaced by a twisted support for her affair with Manoj. The rage I’d felt, watching her asshole stretched, her face defiling Dad, had dissolved into admiration for her boldness, her sluttiness a secret I now protected, my heart siding with her betrayal.

My arousal a quiet cheer for her and Manoj’s forbidden passion. I wanted her to keep fucking him, to revel in her filth, my loyalty to Dad waning, my excitement for her sin a dark, pulsing thrill, my smile a mask for my allegiance, my love for Mom now tied to her whorish defiance. 

Supporting her felt right, a rebellion against Dad’s oblivious trust, her affair a fire I longed to see burn, my complicity a secret bond with her, my thoughts consumed by her daring, my heart no longer torn but wholly hers, cheering her descent into Manoj’s arms.

The next morning, Dad woke for a meeting, his eyes bleary, his memory wiped clean, the drugs erasing the night’s horrors—his vomit-soaked face, Manoj’s piss, Mom’s cum-shitting. 

He forgot it all, his confusion clear as he shuffled to the mirror, his face pale, unaware of the desecration, his stupidity infuriating me. I thought Dad was so stupid, his faith in Mom absolute, his small dick and quick fucks no match for Manoj’s relentless cock, his ignorance a pathetic shield against her betrayal. 

Mom helped him tie his tie, her fingers nimble, her red dress replaced by a modest blue saree, the silk dbanging her curves softly, her boobs and ass still enticing beneath the folds, her face a mask of wifely devotion, her eyes warm, concealing the whore within.

They spoke, their conversation tender, Mom playing the perfect wife, her voice gentle, her lies flawless, as I watched, marveling at her deception, thinking what a liar she was, her sanctity a veil for her cum-filled asshole.

Mom: Amit, your tie’s perfect now, you look so sharp, my love. You’ll nail that meeting, I know it. Want some coffee before you head out?

Dad: Thanks, Rekha, you always make me feel ready. I’m still fuzzy, rough night, I guess. You’re sure everything’s alright?

Mom: Everything’s perfect, Amit, just focus on your day, you’re all set. I’ll have dinner waiting when you’re back, darling. You’re my rock, go shine.

Dad: Fuzzy… yeah, must be work stress. Love you, Rekha, you’re the best. I’ll see you tonight, okay?

Mom: Love you too, Amit, always. Get to that meeting, you’ll be amazing. I’ll be here, keeping our home just right for you.

Mom’s performance was seamless, her smile radiant, her hands soft, as she adjusted his tie, her saree a disguise for her sin, her heart a deceiver’s vault, her asshole’s looseness hidden, her affair with Manoj a secret I now cherished, my thoughts a mix of contempt for Dad’s naivety and awe at Mom’s cunning, her whorish truth a flame I couldn’t quench.

[Rajeev Gupta]

Dad was ready for his meeting, his shirt crisp, his tie neat, thanks to Mom’s careful hands, but his eyes were tired, his face blank, like he’d forgotten everything: last night's mom vomit, the piss, the cum Mom shat on his face, all erased by the drug he was given by mom. 

He didn’t know his wife was banged twice now by Manoj, her pussy and asshole stretched by Manoj’s big cock, her holy body turned into a whore’s playground. 

I thought Dad was so stupid, so blind, his small dick no match for Manoj’s power, his trust in Mom making him a fool, a pathetic man who couldn’t see the truth under his nose. 


Dad came to me, his hand patting my head, his smile soft but confused, as he said goodbye, his voice a bit slow from the drugs still in him.

Dad: Sanjay, I’m off to my meeting, be good for Mom, okay? I’ll see you tonight, buddy. You doing alright?

Me: Yeah, Dad, I’m fine, but… do you remember anything from last night? Like, anything weird that happened?

Dad: Last night? No, I don’t remember much, just passed out, I guess. Why you asking, Sanjay? Something happen?

Me: Never mind, Dad, it’s nothing, just wondering. Have a good meeting. You sure you’re okay?

Dad: I’m okay, kid, just tired, that’s all. Don’t worry about me, alright? Take care of Mom while I’m gone.

I nodded, but inside, I was boiling. Dad was so dumb, clueless that Mom’s holes were fucked raw, her asshole gaped wide, her pussy dripping for another man, while he snored through it all. 


He didn’t know she kissed Manoj, sucked his cock, shat cum on his face, and bathed with her lover, all while he lay drugged, a stupid, trusting fool who thought his wife was a saint. 


And the same mouth that my dad is kissing is the same mouth that was sucking a filthy dick yesternight. So disgusting!


I hated how unaware my dad was, how he couldn’t see the whore Mom had become, her body no longer his, her love a lie he swallowed whole.

Mom came from the bedroom, still pretending, her blue saree wrapped tight, the silk hugging her big boobs, her fat ass swaying, her face glowing with a fake smile, like she was the perfect wife. She bid Dad bye, her voice sweet, her eyes warm, hiding the sin deep inside.


Mom: Amit, safe travels, darling, do great at your meeting. I’ll have everything ready when you’re back. Love you so much.

Dad: Love you too, Rekha, you’re the best. I’ll be home for dinner. Keep the kids in line, okay?

Mom noticed Dad forgot his briefcase, and she ran after him, the saree flapping, her big ass shaking like jelly, the cheeks bouncing with each step, the fabric clinging to her curves, showing off her body. 

I knew her assholes was loose from Manoj’s fucking, her asshole a red, stretched rim, her pussy swollen, but they were getting tighter now, after Manoj's sex, the gape closing a bit.

Though her ass looked bigger, plumper, from the anal sex last night, her first time taking a cock in that filthy hole, the asscheeks flesh fuller, rounder, a mark of her new whorish life. 

Mom handed Dad his briefcase, smiling, holding herself as he walked to the bus station, her love for him shining in her eyes, but deep inside, she was a sinner, her heart torn between her husband and the thrill of Manoj’s cock. 

She came back, her saree swaying, and saw me looking at her, my eyes wide, a smile on my face, my heart now rooting for her affair.

Mom spoke, her voice curious, a bit worried, as she stood in the living room, her boobs heaving under the saree, her hands fidgeting.

Mom: Sanjay, why are you looking at me like that? Is something wrong, my boy? Come on, tell me what’s on your mind.

Me: I’m just happy to see you happy, Mom. You look nice today, smiling and stuff. It’s good to see you like this.

Mom: Oh, Sanjay, you’re so sweet, that’s why you’re my good boy. I’m happy because I have you and your dad. You two make me happy. You always make me feel better, you know that.

Me: Yeah, Mom, I like when you’re happy. Can we talk about last night, though? What were you and Manoj doing in the bedroom?

Mom’s face tightened, worry flashing in her eyes, her hands twisting the saree’s edge, as she tried to dodge my questions, her voice soft but shaky.

Mom: Sanjay, last night was nothing, just grown-up stuff you don’t need to worry about. Manoj was helping me with some massage, that’s all. Why are you asking about this now?

Me: But, Mom, I saw you naked with him, and you were sucking something you called a cock. What was that? Why were you doing that with Manoj?

Mom: Oh, honey, you shouldn’t have seen that, it was just a private moment. I told you it is normal for me and Manoj to get naked but you will not understand now. I wasn’t sucking anything, maybe you saw me fixing something for Manoj. Let’s not talk about this, okay? It’s not for kids.

Me: But I saw you kissing him, Mom, and you were screaming something, like about your ass and cum. What was all that? Why were you so loud?

Mom: Sanjay, you’re imagining things, I wasn’t screaming or kissing anyone. Maybe you heard the TV or something, it was late. Please, don’t think about this, it’s nothing important.

Me: Okay, but why was Dad asleep, and you were doing all that with Manoj? I saw you spit on Dad’s face, and there was gross stuff on him. What happened, Mom?

Mom: That wasn’t spitting, Sanjay, Dad just got sick, and I was cleaning him up. Manoj was helping me take care of things, that’s all. You’re too young to understand, so let’s drop this, alright?

I kept pressing, innocent, not suspicious, just a kid asking questions, my eyes big, my voice curious, as Mom squirmed, lying to keep me in the dark.

Me: Mom, was everything you did with Manoj good? I mean, all mothers are good, right? So what you did must be okay, yeah?

Mom hesitated, her lips tight, her eyes darting, but then she spoke, shameless, condoning her actions, thinking I was too young to know the truth, her voice steady now.

Mom: Yes, Sanjay, everything I did with Manoj was good, it was all fine. Sometimes grown-ups do things to help each other, and that’s what we were doing. Don’t worry, it’s all normal and okay.

Me: Really? That’s cool, Mom, I guess. In schoool, out teacher told us that kissing means love, and I saw you kiss Manoj last night. Do you love him, Mom?

Mom: What? When did you see that, Sanjay? I told you not to watch my bedroom secretly, it’s private! Why were you looking?

Me: I just saw it last night, Mom, I didn’t mean to. Why can’t I watch? And do you love Manoj since you kissed him, or do you love Dad more?

Mom: Sanjay, you shouldn’t spy on me, it’s not right for kids to see grown-up things. Yes, I kissed Manoj, and it means I care for him, but I love your dad so much more. I love our family, Amit, you,my heart is with you all, always.

Mom talked fast, her voice loud, explaining her love for Dad, her words piling up, trying to drown my questions, her hands waving, her saree slipping slightly, showing her cleavage.

She was freaking out by the hard and tough questions I was asking because she was worried if her mouth slipped, she would reveal everything but I already knew everything.

Mom: Your dad is my everything, Sanjay, he’s the man I married, the one I’ll always love. Manoj is just a friend who helps me sometimes, but my love for Amit is bigger than anything. Our family is my whole world, and I’ll never let anything hurt it, okay?

Me: Okay, Mom, but I still wanna know more. Like, I don't know the meaning of the word "cock" and why was Manoj’s cock in your mouth? Also what is the meaning of "ass"? And why was your ass all loose and stuff?

Mom: Sanjay, stop asking so many questions, you’re too young for this! Those things you saw, they weren’t what you think, just grown-up business. Please, let’s talk about something else, like schoool or your games.

Me: But, Mom, I saw you do all that, and I’m confused. Should I tell Dad what I saw? He’d wanna know, right? If all the things you did with Manoj are good things that all mothers do, then is it problem if I tell dad?

Mom’s face went pale, worry creasing her forehead, her hands shaking, as she spoke fast, her voice low, desperate to keep me quiet, offering a bribe.

Mom: No, Sanjay, don’t tell Dad, it’ll just worry him for no reason. I’ll buy you that toy car you wanted, the big red one, if you keep this between us. Please, don’t say anything to him, okay? After we head off to Pandit Ganesh's house, I will buy you the toy car.

Me: A toy car? Awesome, Mom, I won’t tell Dad, I promise. But why can’t I tell him? It’s just stuff I saw, right?

Mom: It’s not for Dad to hear, Sanjay, it’ll make him sad over nothing. I need you to be my good boy and keep it a secret, just for me. We’ll go to the mall soon, get that toy car I promised you last week, and everything will be fine, alright?

Me: Okay, Mom, I won’t tell, I like the tpy car idea. But why’s it a secret? Is it because of what you did with Manoj?

Mom: Yes, honey, it’s just private stuff, not for Dad or anyone to know. I’m trusting you to be strong and keep quiet, because you’re my special boy. Let’s not talk about this anymore, it’s all done now.

Me: Alright, Mom, I’ll stop. But you said we’re going to Pandit Ganesh again after the mall? Why do we have to see him?

Mom: We’re going to Pandit Ganesh to pray and make things right, Sanjay, it’s important for our family. He helps us stay blessed and happy. Why don’t you like him, honey? Tell me.

Me: I don’t like him, Mom, he’s creepy and always touching you weird when he prays. I don’t want him near you. Can we skip him this time?

Mom: Oh, Sanjay, Pandit Ganesh is just doing his rituals, it’s all part of the prayers, nothing bad. Touching is a must for him to perform his rituals in a good way. I need to see him to keep our family safe, so we’re going, okay? You’re my brave boy, you’ll come with me, and it’ll be fine.

Me: Fine, Mom, I’ll go, but I still don’t like him. Why do you need to pray so much? Is it because of Manoj?

Mom: It’s not about Manoj, Sanjay, it’s about keeping our home strong and blessed. Pandit Ganesh helps me feel better, that’s all. You’ll see, it’s a good thing, so let’s not worry about it.

I knew why Mom was going to Pandit Ganesh for the second time—to wash away the sins she did with Manoj, the fucking, the cum, the pissing, the pussy fuck, the anal fuck, all the filthy things that stained her soul. 

But I also knew Pandit Ganesh was a fake, using his “sin-washing” rituals to touch Mom’s private parts, his hands creeping under her saree, brushing her boobs, her pussy, her ass, pretending it was holy, when he was just a pervert taking advantage of her guilt. 

I loved how Manoj fucked Mom, his big cock stretching her asshole, making her scream, her body alive with sin, a secret I cheered for, my heart racing at her whorish freedom. 

But I didn’t like Ganesh touching her, his slimy fingers on her skin, his fake prayers a trick to grope her, a man unworthy of her body, unlike Manoj, who claimed her with power and lust. 

I hated Ganesh’s sneaky hands, his leering eyes, his lies, while I admired Manoj’s bold fucking, his cock a king in Mom’s holes, a thrill I wanted to keep, my support for Mom’s affair a fire that burned bright, my dislike for Ganesh a cold, sharp edge.

Mom hugged me, her saree soft, her boobs pressing against my shoulder, her arms warm, her love for me real, even if her heart was split between Dad and Manoj. 

The living room was quiet, the family portrait on the wall crooked, a happy lie of our broken home, the air now mixed with the floral spray Mom used to hide the bedroom’s stench. 

I stood there, my smile wide, my heart no longer angry but fully with Mom, her affair a secret I’d guard, her sin a story I’d cheer, my love for her now tied to her daring, her body a whore’s temple I admired, my thoughts a mix of joy for her and pity for Dad’s stupid, blind trust



Mom spoke, her voice soft but nervous, telling me her plans, her hands twisting the saree’s edge, her boobs bouncing a little with each breath.

Mom: Sanjay, I’m going to take a bath now, and then I need to call Shalini before we head to Pandit Ganesh’s house. Shalini’s my friend, and I have to talk to her about something private. You okay waiting here, my boy?

Me: Yeah, Mom, I’ll wait, no problem. Why do you need to call Shalini? Is it about the pandit or is it urgent or are we meeting her as well?

Mom: It’s just grown-up talk, Sanjay, nothing you need to think about. Shalini gives me advice sometimes, that’s all. Her advice are very good. Just stay here and be good, okay?

Me: Okay, Mom, I’ll stay. But is Shalini helping you with something big? You’ve been talking to her a lot lately.

Mom: It’s not a big deal, honey, just friend stuff, you know how women chat. I’ll be quick with my bath and call, then we’ll get ready to go. You’re my sweet boy for being patient, alright?

I nodded, but inside, I was wondering hard why Mom needed to talk to Shalini, her married friend who started all this trouble. Shalini was the one who messed Mom up, telling her to wear tight, slutty clothes, like that red dress that showed off her big boobs and fat ass during that party, making her look like a whore. 

Shalini changed Mom, turned her from a holy wife who prayed every day into a woman who fucked Manoj, screamed for his cock, sucked him, and shitted cum on Dad’s face. Basically, Shalini turned my mom to a slut.

I knew Mom was going to tell Shalini everything about her sex with Manoj—how his huge cock ripped her asshole open, how she kissed him, how she bathed with him, every dirty detail. She was looking for an advice from Shalini but mom was looking for advice from the wrong person.

Shalini would probably giggle, push Mom to do worse, make her even more of a slut, and I hated how Shalini’s words made Mom this way, but I loved seeing Mom’s slutty side, my dick getting stiff just thinking about her moans and loose holes loosened by Manoj's huge dick.

I watched Mom grab her phone and walk to the bathroom, her saree swinging, her fat ass shaking like it did when she chased Dad with his briefcase. 

I didn’t know why she took her phone, but I thought maybe she was going to send naked pictures to Manoj, her wet boobs and pussy snapped for him to jerk off to. 

But Mom wasn’t that far gone yet, not slutty enough to send nudes, still holding onto a tiny bit of shame, even after all the filthy stuff she did. 

Her body was curvy, her boobs big and heavy, her ass fat and round, her waist soft and smooth.

She started removing her clothes ready to bath. She was facing away from me. She removed her saree and that is when I saw her fat ass, the fat ass that was fucked so hard yesternight by Manoj.

She was wearing black panties which disappeared inside between her asscheeks.






After few minutes she was naked and in the shower and turned on the shower.

She closed her eyes, her face soft, maybe thinking about Manoj fucking her, his cock slamming into her cute tiny pussy and asshole, her screams loud in the bedroom. 






She ran her hands over her body, sliding them over her boobs, her nipples poking out, then down her belly, touching herself in a sexy way, water running over her curves, her skin buzzing with feeling.


Then, the most shocking thing in my life happened. I saw Mom’s right hand slide down to her pussy, her fingers touching the puffy lips, her left hand grabbing her boobs, squeezing them, pinching her nipples. 

I begged in my head for her not to think of Manoj, not to let him control her like this, but her eyes stayed closed, her body starting to shake like she was nervous.






Then she started talking to herself.


Mom: Oh, Rekha, please don’t do this, don’t start touching yourself now. You’re a good wife, you can’t think of that man. Stop it, don’t let this happen.

Mom: I’m trying so hard, but my body’s hot, it’s begging for it. I know it’s wrong, I have Amit, my husband. Please, don’t let me fall into this mess. Ooh what am I doing?

Mom: I can’t believe I’m even thinking about this, it’s not who I am. I love my family, I can’t let this take over me. God, help me stop before I go too far.

Her right hand started rubbing her pussy, slow at first, her fingers circling the wet lips, pressing gently, her eyes squeezed shut, her body shivering under the shower’s hot water. 

She turned away, her fat ass facing me, the cheeks big and full, water dripping between them, her curves shaking as she rubbed harder, her fingers moving faster. 





I didn’t understand what was going on, my heart banging in my chest, asking myself if she was remembering Manoj, his big cock in her ass, his hands slapping her cheeks, his cum shooting inside her. 

My dick was getting hard, even though I hated it, seeing Mom’s slutty side, her hands moving, her body trembling, the water making her skin glow.

She again started talking to herself.

Mom: "What am I doing, Rekha? This is so bad, I can’t touch myself like this, I have a husband. I’m not supposed to be this kind of woman, stop it now. I know it’s wrong, but it feels so good, my body won’t stop. I’m begging God to forgive me, but I can’t pull my hands away. Please, save me from this sin"


She continued talking to herself because she couldn't believe what she was doing.

"I’m fighting it, but my fingers keep moving, it’s like I’m not in control. Amit deserves better, I can’t betray him like this. Why can’t I just be a good wife to my husband? Why am I turning into a... sl..slu...ooh I can't say that name no no no, I am not that kind of a woman"

Her left hand slid between her asscheeks, her fingers disappearing into the crack, maybe touching her loose asshole, the red rim still stretched wide from Manoj’s fucking. 






I didn’t know what she was doing, my head spinning, asking myself over and over if she was thinking of Manoj, picturing his cock, his hard thrusts, his cum filling her up. 

My dick was rock hard now, standing up in my pants, seeing Mom like this, her hands working her pussy and ass, her body shaking, her slutty side taking over, water splashing around her.

Her rubbing got faster, her right hand digging into her pussy, fingers sliding in and out, wet and shiny, her left hand pressing deeper between her asscheeks, maybe fingering her asshole, her body jerking like she was losing control. 




Her moans came out loud, echoing in the bathroom, her voice desperate, her boobs bouncing, water flying off her skin. She was moaning so hard and loud that she forgot I was in the house. She was really risking it.

But who is she thinking about as she is masturbating?





I asked myself why she was doing this in the morning, something I never saw her do, her holy hands now filthy, her praying face twisted with pleasure, her body alive with sin.

In the morning, she used to pray first thing. But today morning, she is in the bathroom moaning while rubbing her pussy. She even forgot praying.



She continued to speak to herself.

Mom: AAAAHHHH UUUHHHH YYESSS, OH GOD, IT FEELS SO GOOD, I CAN’T STOP! MY BODY’S BURNING, PLEASE, KEEP GOING! OOHHH YYESSS, I NEED THIS SO BAD! Ooh let me continue rubbing my pussy ooohhhhh


Mom: What kind of woman am I turning into, I can’t stop thinking about you, look what you turned me into. This isn’t me, I’m not this person.

Mom: I’m falling apart, my hands won’t listen, it’s too much pleasure. I’m not supposed to be like this, I have a family. Why am I letting this happen?

Mom: I’m begging myself to stop, but my body’s screaming for more. I can’t believe I’m doing this in the shower while my husband is working, it’s so wrong. God, please, don’t let me keep going.

I asked myself who she was talking about while she was masturbating, my heart pounding like a drum, hoping it was Dad, praying she was thinking of her husband, not Manoj. 

But everything pointed to Manoj—her wild moans, her fast fingers, her shaking body, all too much like when she fucked him. Then, I got shocked—she moaned Manoj’s name, maybe by mistake, her voice cutting through the shower’s noise.

Mom: OOHHH, MANOJ, YESSS—oh no, what did I just say?

She froze, her eyes popping open, her hand slapping over her mouth, shame all over her face, her body still trembling, water dripping down her boobs and ass. 

She talked to herself, her voice quiet, cursing her mistake for calling Manoj's name, begging for forgiveness, her hands stuck, her pussy and asshole wet and tight.

Mom: How could I say his Manoj's name, I’m supposed to think of Amit, my husband, not that man. Almighty, please forgive me, I’m so sorry for this sin. I am so shameful.

Mom: I’m disgusting, letting Manoj’s name slip out, what’s wrong with me? I love Amit, he’s my life, not Manoj. God, help me clean my heart, I beg you.


She continued speaking to herself.


Mom: Shalini was right, she said all married women are sluts, and look at me, rubbing myself like this while thinking of that Manoj. But I’m not a slut, I’m a good mother, a good wife. I love my family, I’m not this bad woman, I swear.

Mom: I’m lying to myself, I know I’m falling, but I won’t let this ruin me. I’m still Rekha, Amit’s wife, Sanjay’s mom, not Manoj’s whore. Please, God, make me good again.

Mom: I can’t keep doing this, I have to stop, but my body’s still shaking. Shalini pushed me into this, but I’m better than this. I’m fighting to be the woman I was, I promise.

I finally got the answer—Mom was a full slut now, her body belonging to Manoj’s cock, her mind stuck on his fucking, her holy life gone in two nights. 

I asked myself if she could ever forget Manoj, if she could go back to being Dad’s praying wife, but her moans, her hands, her shame said no. 

She changed so fast, from a saree-wearing woman chanting prayers to Manoj’s slut, screaming for cum, rubbing her pussy in the shower, her asshole loose, her heart torn between love and sin. 


Things were real now, my Mom a whore, and I loved it, my dick hard, my heart racing, cheering her sin, even as I hoped she’d fight it, my head a mess of excitement and worry, knowing she was lost to Manoj’s power.




Next update coming soon.......

Guys what do you think. Give me your thoughts!!

[Rajeev Gupta]

Preethiji with due respect.some one already told you, if you are not like the story then don't read it. Every author is having different thoughts and we should respect to that. In the name of comments we should not degrade others. This is my opinion

No need to tell him, he will refer to stories as garbage but then read the garbage himself. It's like calling a sewer "sewerage" but then going back and drinking the "sewerage" filth. ??. He doesn't understand what he is doing but I am glad he reads my garbage.

It's refreshing to know we can shit and other people eat our shit. Lovely world we live in.

[Rajeev Gupta]

Her wet hair stuck to her shoulders, droplets falling to the floor, her face red with shame from rubbing her pussy and ass in the shower, moaning Manoj’s name by mistake, cursing herself for thinking of him instead of Dad. 

I hid outside the door, my heart pounding, my dick hard in my pants, knowing Mom was a full slut now, her praying days gone, her body owned by Manoj’s cock. I loved her slutty side, cheering her sin, but I worried she’d never go back to being Dad’s holy wife.

Mom’s phone rang, a loud buzz that made her jump, her hand grabbing the towel, almost dropping it, her boobs bouncing. She snapped out of her thoughts, her eyes wide, her breath quick, and talked to herself, her voice shaky and scared.

I wondered who could be calling her now at this intense moment she is having. Mom started talking to herself...

Mom: Oh no, who’s calling me now? I’m still messed up from touching myself in the shower. Please, don’t let it be Amit, I can’t talk to him like this.

Mom: It’s probably nothing, Rekha, just check the phone and stay calm. My hands are shaking, I need to pull myself together. What if someone knows what I did with Manoj?

She picked up the phone, her fingers slipping, and saw it was Shalini, because later when she put it on loudspeaker, I heard her speaking her friend who pushed her into this dirty life. Mom’s face went pale, her lips trembling, as she talked to herself again, her voice full of shock.

Mom spoke to herself again, she usually speaks to herself in slightly audible voice.

Mom: Shalini? Why’s is this whorish woman calling me right now, after I thought of Manoj in the shower? This feels like a sign, it’s too much to handle.

Mom: I don’t want to talk to her, she’ll make me feel like a slutty woman, but I can’t ignore her call. She’s the one who got me into this mess with Manoj. God, please give me strength to face her.

Mom put the call on loudspeaker, like she always does, her hands too busy to hold the phone. She set it on the counter, next to the wet towel, and started wiping her body, the towel sliding over her boobs, her belly, her fat ass shaking with each move, water dripping onto the tiles, her wet hair leaving trails on her back. 

Her face was still flushed, her eyes darting to the phone, scared but ready to talk.

Mom: Hello, Shalini, it’s nice to hear from you. How are you doing today? I’ve been so busy with Sanjay and Amit, it’s been a while.

Shalini: Hey, Rekha, I’m doing awesome, living my best life. How about you, girl? I miss you so much, we need to hang out soon.

Mom: I’m okay, Shalini, just keeping things together at home. I miss you too, but I don’t like how you act sometimes, you’re too wild. How’s everything with you and Ravi your husband?

Shalini: Oh, Rekha, you’re so sweet, worrying about me. Ravi’s the same, boring as ever, working all the time. I’m still seeing Rakesh, and his cock is so big, it drives me crazy every time.

Mom: Shalini, you shouldn’t talk like that, it’s wrong to cheat on Ravi. You need to stop seeing Rakesh and be a good wife. Don’t you feel guilty for what you’re doing?

Shalini: Guilty? Haha, Rekha, you’re too funny, I don’t feel bad at all. Rakesh fucks me so good, makes me scream louder than Ravi ever could. Why waste my life on boring when I can have hot? If I continue lying to Ravi without him knowing, then I am fine.

Mom: I can’t believe you’re so shameless, Shalini, it’s not right. I’m trying to be good, but you make it hard with your talk. Anyway, something happened with me, I need to tell you.

Shalini: Oh, Rekha, don’t tease me, what happened? Did you do something naughty? Come on, spill it, I’m dying to hear every detail!

Mom: It’s hard to say, Shalini, but last night, I… I slept with Manoj. I let him do everything—my pussy, my mouth, even my ass. I feel so ashamed, I don’t know why I did it.

Shalini: Holy shit, Rekha, you fucked Manoj? That’s amazing, girl, congratulations, you’re a star! I’m so happy you finally let loose, tell me more!

Mom: Congratulations? Shalini, why are you saying that? I feel like I betrayed Amit and Sanjay, it’s not something to be proud of. Why do you think this is good?

Shalini: Because you’re a slut now, Rekha, and that’s the best thing ever! I told you before, all women are sluts, we’re made to fuck and feel good. You’re winning, girl, living for yourself, not just Amit. If Amit doesn't fuck you good, then cheat on him. Life is short, continue enjoying.

Mom: No, Shalini, I’m not a slut, I’m a good wife to Amit, a good mom to Sanjay. What I did with Manoj was a mistake, I’m not like you. I can’t live this way, it’s wrong.

Shalini: Stop pretending, Rekha, you’re already a slut, you fucked Manoj and you loved it. Don’t act like you’re some holy saint now. Did you enjoy his cock, be honest with me?

Mom: Okay, Shalini, I hate to admit it, but yes, I enjoyed it, it felt so good. My body was shaking, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting more. But that doesn’t mean I’m a slut, I’m just confused.

Shalini: Confused? Haha, just hear yourself talking like a slut saying and admitting that you loved it, you’re a slut, Rekha, and it’s awesome! Do you want to see Manoj again, get that cock back inside you? Tell me you’re craving him.

Mom: No, Shalini, I don’t want to see him again, it’s too much for me. I feel like a slut, and I hate that feeling, I want to be good. My husband or maybe Sanjay will know if I continue seeing Manoj, I can’t keep hurting Amit like this.

Shalini: That slutty feeling is the greatest, Rekha, it’s like being free, alive, a real woman. When Rakesh fucks me, I feel like a queen, not just Ravi’s boring wife. You felt that with Manoj, right? That fire in your body, that rush?

Mom: Yes, I felt it, Shalini, but it’s tearing me apart inside. It’s not freedom, it’s shame, I’m losing who I am. Why do you think being a slut is so wonderful?

Shalini: Because it’s power, Rekha, power over boring men like Amit and Ravi. When you fuck Manoj, you’re not just a mom or wife, you’re a goddess. Let that slutty feeling take over, it’s what makes life worth living.

Mom: Power? It feels like I’m falling, Shalini, like I’m becoming someone bad. I don’t want to be a goddess, I want to be Amit’s wife, Sanjay’s mom. I can’t let this feeling win, I just can’t.

Shalini: You’re already winning, Rekha, you just don’t see it yet. You said Manoj fucked your ass, girl? Tell me he pounded that tight little hole!

Mom: Yes, Shalini, he fucked my ass, and it hurt so bad, I didn’t like it. It felt wrong, like I was breaking something inside me. Why do you think anal is such a big deal?

Shalini: Because anal’s the real deal, Rekha, all sluts take it in the ass! Nowadays pussy is boring. I too don't like to be fucked in the pussy only, me and Rakesh do add anal sex for dessert! It’s like a prize, shows you’re not some plain wife anymore. You’re a full slut now, girl, that’s huge!

Mom: No, Shalini, I don’t want to be a full slut, it feels so bad. I’m a good wife, a good mom, I can’t let this take over my life. I need to stay true to my family, not this dirty stuff.

Shalini: Grow up, Rekha, stop acting like a scared little girl, be a woman! You fucked Manoj, took his cock in your ass, you’re a slut, same as me with Rakesh. Quit pretending you’re too good for this, embrace it.

Mom: I’m not pretending, Shalini, I’m fighting to keep my family safe. I don’t want to be like you, losing myself in this sin. I’m done talking about being a slut, it’s making me sick.

Shalini: Sick? You’re just scared of how good it feels, Rekha. What else is going on, girl? You’re hiding something, I know you are.

Mom: I don’t want to talk about it, Shalini, it’s too shameful, I can’t say it. Something happened in the bathroom just now, but it’s private. Please, don’t make me tell you.

Shalini: Oh, come on, Rekha, you can’t hold out on me, spill it! I am your friend, we promised not to hide anything from each other. What did you do in the bathroom, you naughty girl? Tell me, I’m your best friend.

Mom: Okay, Shalini, I’m so ashamed, but I… I touched myself in the shower, thinking of Manoj. I rubbed my pussy, my ass, I said his name, I couldn’t stop. I don’t know what’s happening to me, what does this mean?

Shalini: Damn, Rekha, that’s so hot, you masturbated thinking of Manoj? You’re a total slut, girl, this is perfect! It means you’re hooked, your body wants him, it’s the best thing ever! Your body doesn't want Amit, it craves for Manoj's body. It's the best thing.

Mom: The best thing? Shalini, it’s awful, I feel like I’m cheating on Amit even more. If I keep seeing Manoj, will I stop loving Amit? I’m scared I’ll lose my family.

Shalini: Losing interest in Amit is great, Rekha, it’s what you need. Amit’s boring, dragging you down, while Manoj’s cock lights you up. Rakesh makes me forget Ravi, and it’s freedom, you’ll love it.

Mom: How can you say that, Shalini? Amit’s my husband, I love him, I don’t want to forget him. You’re wrong, I’m not throwing away my marriage like you.

Shalini: Oh, Rekha, you’re so stuck, Amit’s just holding you back. Manoj’s your real man, his cock owns you now. Let Amit go, live for the fuck, like me with Rakesh.

Mom: Stop it, Shalini, I’m not listening to this, you’re making me feel worse. I love Amit, I love Sanjay, I’m not giving up my family for Manoj. You’re going too far, I can’t take it.

Shalini: Too far? You’re already there, Rekha, you’ll be begging for Manoj’s cock soon. Keep acting holy, but you’re a slut, and you know it deep down.

Mom: Whatever! Hey! I’m going to see Pandit Ganesh today, Shalini, to pray and clean this sin from my heart. I need to be a good wife and mom again, not this. I’m not going back to Manoj, I promise.

Shalini: Pandit Ganesh? That’s a joke, Rekha, those prayers won’t change a thing. You’ll be back with Manoj, spreading your legs, fucking him again. Sluts like us can’t stay away, you’ll see.

Mom: No, Shalini, I’m going, and I’ll prove I’m stronger than this sin. Your filthy talk makes me feel like a whore, I can’t stand it. I’m hanging up, I’m done with this.

Shalini: Hanging up? What’s wrong, Rekha, can’t handle the truth? You’re a slut, just like me, and you’ll fuck Manoj again, I know it.

Mom: Goodbye, Shalini, I’m not listening to you anymore. I’m better than this, I’m not your kind of woman. Don’t call me until you can talk like a friend.

Mom slammed her finger on the phone, ending the call, her towel slipping down, showing her big boobs and fat ass, her face tight with anger, her eyes wet, her lips shaking. 

Her cheeks were red, her breath heavy, but then her expression changed, a small smile spreading across her face, her eyes sparkling, her mouth curling up. I knew Mom loved Shalini’s dirty words, the way they made her feel like a slut, her heart secretly excited by the thought of being a whore, even though she fought it hard.

I was angry, my hands balled into fists, my chest tight, hating how Shalini talked about Dad, calling him boring, saying Mom should forget him. Dad was clueless, trusting Mom while she fucked Manoj, but he didn’t deserve this disrespect, his love for her real, even if he was too dumb to see her sin. 


My heart pounded, my dick still hard from watching Mom in the shower, but my head was spinning, torn between loving Mom’s slutty side and hating Shalini’s cruel words about my family. I stood there, hidden by the door, my sneakers squeaking on the floor, my mind a mess, cheering Mom’s affair but burning with rage at Shalini’s voice



Mom got out of the bathroom, she didn't even wear a towel, she just walked outside of the bathroom just naked, her thick ass swaying, her heavy breasts bouncing. 





I ran back to the sitting room, my safe hiding space, my sneakers squeaking on the floor. I sat on our sitting room couch, my heart pounding, pretending I wasn’t spying, my dick still stiff from seeing Mom’s body. 

Mom took a long time in her bedroom, the door half-open, clothes scattered on the bed. I crept closer back to her bedroom, I stood at the door, peeking through the keyhole, seeing her standing in her underwear, her massive, round breasts spilling over her bra, her plump, wide ass barely covered by panties.








She held up dresses, sarees in bright colors, looking confused, muttering to herself, wondering what to wear for Pandit Ganesh’s house. She tried a green saree, then a red one, tossing them aside, her thick thighs jiggling, her navel deep and soft, her body a sinful sight. 


Finally, she picked an orange saree, wrapping it tight around her curves, the fabric hugging her like a second skin, her face set, like she was choosing to be bold.


Mom came out, her orange saree shining, her massive breasts straining against the blouse, her huge, round ass swaying, the fabric clinging to her curves. She found me standing in the sitting room, my eyes wide, my mouth open, shocked at how she looked, so different from her usual plain sarees. I spoke, my voice high, complimenting her, asking questions, trying to sound innocent.






Me: Wow, Mom, you look so pretty in that dress, it’s amazing. Why are you wearing something so fancy just to go to Pandit Ganesh’s house? Isn’t it too much for praying?

Mom: Thank you, Sanjay, I just wanted to wear something nice today, that’s all. I have never worn this, so I thought I’d dress up a bit. It’s not too much, it’s just a saree.

Me: I never saw you wear this orange one before, Mom, it’s so bright. When did you buy it? Did you get it for something special or what?

Mom: Oh, Sanjay, I bought it a while ago, just never had a chance to wear it. It’s been in my closet for months, nothing special about it. I just felt like trying it today, okay?

Me: Okay, but it looks really new, Mom. Did Shalini tell you to get it? She always talks about fancy clothes, right?

Mom: No, Sanjay, Shalini didn’t pick this, I chose it myself. I like to have nice things sometimes, even if I don’t wear them much. Let’s get ready to go, we don’t want to be late.

The orange saree was so tight, it showed every curve of Mom’s body, a loud sign she was leaving her holy ways for a slut’s life. The blouse squeezed her massive, full breasts, the fabric stretching, her nipples faintly visible, her cleavage deep and round, begging for eyes. 

The saree clung to her soft navel, the dip exposed, a tempting hollow above her belly. It wrapped her thick thighs, the material outlining their shape, each step making them jiggle, the hem high enough to tease. 

Her huge, plump ass was the star, the saree gripping its round cheeks, swaying like ripe fruit, the crack faintly traced, a whore’s badge, no longer the ass of a praying wife but a slut’s prize, stretched by Manoj’s cock. 

This dress screamed her new life, a bold step from sarees that hid her curves to one that shouted her sin, her holiness traded for sluttiness, her body a lure for lust.

We walked to Pandit Ganesh’s house, the streets busy, men turning their heads, their eyes locked on Mom’s assets. Her massive breasts bounced with each step, her blouse tight, drawing stares from shopkeepers and passersby. 

Her huge, round ass swayed, the saree accentuating its plumpness, men whispering, some licking their lips, their gazes hungry. I noticed, my face hot, confused but not suspicious, just a kid wondering why Mom was different today.







Me: Mom, why are all the men staring at you today? It’s like they can’t stop looking at your dress. Is it because it’s so bright?

Mom: Oh, Sanjay, they’re probably just noticing the orange color, it’s very eye-catching. Men look at bright things, that’s all, nothing to worry about. Let’s keep walking, okay?

Me: But they’re looking a lot, Mom, more than usual. Is it the way the saree fits? It’s really tight, isn’t it?

Mom: It’s just a saree, Sanjay, maybe it’s new to them, I don’t wear this one often. People notice new things, that’s normal. Don’t think too much about it, we’re almost there.

Me: Okay, Mom, but it feels weird, like they’re staring at you, not the dress. Do you like when people look? Does it make you feel good?

Mom: Sanjay, I don’t care if people look, I’m just wearing what I like. It doesn’t mean anything, I’m focused on getting to Pandit Ganesh. Let’s hurry, we don’t want to keep him waiting.

We reached Pandit Ganesh’s house, a small building with a wooden door, prayer flags hanging outside, the air smelling of incense. We knocked, and Pandit appeared, his eyes widening, his mouth dropping as he saw Mom. 

He gazed at her in lust, his stare crawling over her massive, round breasts, the tight blouse showing her curves, then down to her thick thighs and her wide hips, the saree hugging every inch. 

Saliva dripped from the side of his mouth, a shiny trail of lust, his face flushed, his eyes hungry, like he was starving for her body. I saw it, my stomach twisting, angry that a holy man was such a pervert, his drool a disgusting sign of his sin, not the purity I expected.

Pandit spoke, his voice oily, greeting Mom, his eyes never leaving her curves, barely noticing me.

Pandit: Rekha, welcome, I didn’t expect you again so soon. You look so beautiful today, this saree is stunning. Hello, Sanjay, good to see you too.

Mom: Pandit Ji, thank you for seeing us, I needed to come back for prayers. I’m surprised you say that about my saree, you don’t usually compliment wives. We’re here for something important.
 
Pandit: Sanjay, don’t rush, prayers take time, you know that. Rekha, your beauty shines today, it’s a gift from God. Come inside, both of you, let’s begin.

Mom’s face was shocked, her eyes wide, not used to Pandit complimenting her, especially as another man’s wife, his words crossing a line. He ushered us into his house, a dim room with a small altar, incense burning, a bed in the corner covered with a red cloth. 

As Mom walked in, Pandit’s eyes locked on her huge, round ass, the saree clinging to its plump cheeks, shaking like waves in a stormy sea, each step making it quiver, a sinful dance. 







I saw him rub his penis through his dhoti, his lips bitten, his face twisted with lust. I was angry, my fists clenched, expecting a religious man to be good, not a pervert like Manoj, his actions a betrayal of his holy role. 

I didn’t understand why Mom’s thick, massive ass drew every man’s eyes, its round, heavy shape a magnet, but I knew Manoj, the man who fucked my mom's asshole, was the luckiest, his cock having fucked the most beautiful ass, stretching it wide, claiming it as his prize.

Pandit brought us drinks, sweet mango juice in metal cups, his hands shaky as he stared at Mom. I sat on a wooden chair, its legs creaky, while Pandit told Mom to sit on his bed, not the mat where women usually sat for rituals. 

My eyes narrowed, knowing this wasn’t normal, sensing he was a pervert, his bed a trap, not a prayer spot. Mom frowned, her face confused, wondering why he’d ask her to sit there, her saree tight as she stood.

Pandit: Rekha, please sit on the bed, it’s more comfortable for our talk. The mat is too hard for such a special visitor. Sanjay, take a chair, relax.

Mom’s thighs expanded as she sat, the saree stretching over their thick, soft shape, her legs parted slightly, the fabric outlining her curves. Pandit’s eyes fixed on her thighs, his gaze hungry, his mouth twitching, lust written all over his face. Mom spoke, her voice firm, telling me to leave, not wanting me to hear her confessions.

Mom: Sanjay, go to the next room like last time, okay? I need to talk to Pandit Ji alone about private things. It won’t take long, just wait there.

Me: Okay, Mom, but why do I always have to go? Can’t I stay and listen? I won’t tell anyone, I promise.

Mom: No, Sanjay, these are grown-up matters, you can’t hear them. Be my good boy and wait in the other room. I’ll call you when we’re done, alright?

Me: Fine, Mom, I’ll go, but I don’t like leaving you here. Is everything okay? You sure you need to talk alone?

Mom: Everything’s fine, Sanjay, I just need to pray and talk with Pandit Ji. It’s important for me, so please go wait. You’re helping me by doing this, okay?


I walked to the next room, my sneakers heavy, my heart burning with anger, leaving Mom with this pervert, his drooling mouth and rubbing hands making me sick. 

The room was small, a mat on the floor, a window letting in dusty light, the air thick with incense. I sat, my fists tight, hating Pandit’s fake holiness, knowing he’d try something with Mom, his lust a disgrace to his prayers.

In the main room, Pandit spoke, his voice smooth but pushy, asking Mom why she came again, his eyes still on her thighs, her massive breasts, her plump ass sinking into the bed.

Pandit: Rekha, why are you back so soon? Something must be troubling you, I can see it in your face. Tell me, what sin needs cleansing today?

Mom: Pandit Ji, I… I don’t know where to start, it’s hard to say. I came to pray, to fix something wrong I did. I need God’s help, but I’m scared.

Pandit: Scared? Rekha, you’re safe here, God listens through me. Is it about your husband, Amit? Or maybe something else, a secret you’re hiding?

Mom: No, it’s not Amit, not exactly, I mean… I can’t say it yet. You’re wrong, it’s not what you think. I just need to pray, that’s all.

Pandit: Don’t hide, Rekha, I’ve seen many sins, I can guess yours. A woman like you, so beautiful, maybe tempted by another man? Tell me, I won’t judge you.

Mom: No, Pandit Ji, it’s not that simple, please don’t guess. I’m trying to be good, but it’s hard to talk about. I need time to say it right.

Pandit: Take your time, Rekha, but God wants truth, you know that. You’ve sinned, haven’t you? Something big, I can feel it, let it out.

Mom: I… I think I made a mistake coming here, Pandit Ji. This is too much, I shouldn’t have come to say this. I need to go, I’m not ready.

Mom stood, her saree tight, her thick thighs brushing together, her huge, round ass jiggling, but Pandit grabbed her waist, his fingers digging into her soft skin, his face close, his voice low and fake-kind. 

Mom didn’t even feel his touch, her mind too caught in her shame, her eyes down, her hands shaking.

Pandit: Rekha, sit down, don’t run from God’s help. I’m here to comfort you, to guide you back to purity. Tell me your sin, let me fix it for you.

Mom: Pandit Ji, I don’t know, I’m so confused, I want to leave. This feels wrong, talking about it here. Please, let me go think about it.

Pandit: No, Rekha, you’re safe, sit and trust me, God’s with us. Your heart’s heavy, I can see it, share your burden. You’re too beautiful to carry this alone.

Mom: Okay, Pandit Ji, I’ll sit, but I’m scared, I don’t know if I can say it. I want to be good, for Amit, for Sanjay. Please, just help me pray, nothing else.

Mom sat back down, her thighs spreading again, her saree tight, her massive breasts heaving, her plump ass sinking into the bed, Pandit’s hand lingering on her waist, his eyes gleaming, his lust hidden behind a fake smile. 


I sat in the next room, my heart pounding, angry, hating this man, knowing he was no holy guide but a pervert, his touch on Mom a sin worse than hers.





Next update is coming guys...

Give me your thoughts or what you guys want to happen

[Rajeev Gupta]

Pandit: Rekha, you came here for a reason, don’t hide your sin from God. Tell me what you did, I can see it’s heavy on your heart. What happened to make you so scared?

Mom: Pandit Ji, it’s hard to say, I don’t know how to start. I… I saw someone, not my husband, and things happened. I feel so bad, I need to fix it.

Pandit: Saw someone? Like the last time? Rekha, do you mean you were with another man again? Tell me clearly, did you have sex with him? God needs the truth.

Mom’s face went red, her eyes wide, her voice shaking as she spoke slowly, her words vague, trying to avoid the shame.

Mom: Yes, Pandit Ji, I did… I had sex with another man, the same man again, not Amit my husband. It was a mistake, I didn’t mean for it to happen. I’m so ashamed, I want God to forgive me.

Pandit’s eyes widened, his mouth dropping, a glint of excitement in his stare, his hands fidgeting, his voice eager as he asked more, his questions turning dirty.

Pandit: Sex with another man, Rekha? That’s a big sin, but I need details to help you. Who was this man you had sex with twice, and how did you meet him? What did he do to you?

Mom: His name is Manoj, Pandit Ji, he’s a friend of a friend. I met him through Shalini, at a party, we talked a few times, and then… things went too far. Things went south. I don’t want to say more, it’s too hard.

Pandit: You must say more, Rekha, God demands the full truth. Did Manoj touch you, maybe your breasts? Did he suck them or kiss your body?

Mom: Pandit Ji, this feels strange, why do you need to know that? Yes, he… he touched my breasts, he kissed them. I’m not comfortable saying this, please, can we just pray?

Pandit: No, Rekha, we need every detail for the ritual to work. Did he touch your ass, feel its shape? Did he put his penis inside you, in your pussy or elsewhere?

Mom’s face burned, her eyes down, her voice low, feeling weird but answering because she respected Pandit, believing his questions were for God.

Mom: Yes, Pandit Ji, he touched my ass, he grabbed it, squeezed it. He… he put his penis in my pussy, and other places too. I’m so embarrassed, please, don’t make me say more.

Pandit: Other places, Rekha? You must be clear, did he put it in your ass? Tell me everything, it’s the only way to cleanse you.

Mom: Pandit Ji, I don’t like these questions, they feel wrong, but I’ll answer so that I get ritualistic proof. I need to stop this sin, please help me.

I sat in the next room, my ear pressed to the wall, wondering why Mom was answering these dirty questions, my heart racing, my face hot. This wasn’t part of any ritual I knew.

Pandit wasn’t chanting or praying, just asking about Mom’s body, her sex with Manoj, like a pervert, not a holy man. I hated how Mom kept talking, her respect for him making her spill everything, her voice shaky but honest, while Pandit’s eyes gleamed with lust.

Mom spoke again, her voice softer, introducing something worse, her hands trembling, her face red with embarrassment.

Mom: Pandit Ji, there’s something even worse I did, it’s so bad, I can’t believe it. I think you already asked but....I don’t know how to say it, it’s too shameful. I need God to forgive me for this.

Pandit: Worse, Rekha? What could be worse than sex with another man? Tell me, what did you do, don’t hold back.

Mom: It’s so hard, Pandit Ji, but… I let Manoj do something very bad to my body. He… he had sex with my ass, not just my pussy. I feel so dirty, I can’t look at myself.

Pandit’s eyes lit up, his mouth twitching, his voice eager, asking more about anal, his questions filthy, his excitement clear.

Pandit: Anal sex, Rekha? That’s a big step, but tell me, how did it feel? Did his penis stretch you? Did you enjoy it at all?

Mom: Pandit Ji, it hurt so much, I didn’t enjoy it, it felt wrong. Manoj’s penis was big, it stretched me, I cried. Why are you asking this, is it part of the prayer?

Pandit: Yes, Rekha, I need to know to help you. Anal is normal, many married women do it, it’s not a bad sin. Did anything else happen, like mess?

Mom’s face was shocked, her eyes wide, her voice shaky, not believing Pandit called anal normal, her hands clutching the saree.

Mom: Normal? Pandit Ji, how can that be normal, it’s not natural, it’s sinful. Manoj forced me, I didn’t want it, I never want to do it again. It felt so wrong, I’m not that kind of woman.

Pandit: Rekha, calm down, it’s just a body thing, God doesn’t judge it harshly. Women do anal sex all the time, it’s part of love. Did you… make a mess, like shitting or releasing anything after during anal?

Mom: Release? Pandit Ji, what do you mean by that? I don’t understand, please, I don’t want to talk about this part. It’s too much, I’m ashamed.

I knew Mom was pretending not to understand, her face red, avoiding the word “shitted,” remembering how she pushed Manoj’s cum out on Dad’s face. Pandit leaned closer, his voice low, explaining in a filthy way, his eyes gleaming.

Pandit: Rekha, I mean did you shit, did anything come out of your ass after Manoj's dick was inside? It’s normal, it happens, tell me, did you make a mess?

Mom: Pandit Ji, please, I can’t talk about that, it’s too dirty, I don’t want to say. Something happened, but I’m not saying it, it’s private. Why do you keep asking these things?

Pandit: Because I need to know, Rekha, to cleanse you properly. If you released something, it’s part of the sin, tell me. 

Mom: I… I can’t, Pandit Ji, but yes, something came out, and it got on Amit’s face. My husband was on the room but was passed out. He didn't know I was with Manoj. I’m so ashamed, I didn’t mean it, it was an accident. Please, stop asking, I’m begging you.

Pandit: An accident, Rekha, that’s understandable, don’t worry. Why are you so shy? It’s just the body, God sees it all, tell me more.

Mom: No, Pandit Ji, I can’t say more, it’s too much, I feel sick talking about it. I just want to pray, to be clean again. Can we move on, please?

Pandit leaned back, his smile wide, his dhoti tented, his dick hard, pushing against the fabric, a clear bulge Mom didn’t notice, her eyes down, her face flushed. He spoke again, his voice soft, condoning her adultery, his words shocking, encouraging her sin.

Pandit: Rekha, sleeping with another man isn’t a bad sin, like I told you before. It’s a small thing, easy to wash away with prayers. You don’t need to feel so guilty, God forgives this quickly.

Mom: Not bad? Pandit Ji, how can you say that, it’s cheating on my husband. I thought it was a big sin, that’s why I’m here. Are you sure it’s small?

Pandit: Yes, Rekha, it’s small, many women do it, they come to me all the time. They cheat, they enjoy, then they pray, and their sins are gone. You can do it again, come back, and I’ll cleanse you.

Mom: Many women? Pandit Ji, do they come often, cheating and praying like it’s normal? I can’t believe that, I don’t want to be like them.

Pandit: Oh, Rekha, they come every week, sometimes more, cheating with lovers, then washing it away. It’s easy, you can keep seeing Manoj, enjoy his body, and I’ll pray for you. It’s a simple fix, no harm.

Mom: No, Pandit Ji, I don’t want to keep sinning, I want to be religious, a good wife to Amit, a good mom to Sanjay. I came to stop this, not to do it more. I can’t live like those women, I won’t.

Mom’s face lit up, happy Pandit said her sin was small, her eyes softer, her shoulders relaxing, but her voice firm, refusing to keep cheating. Pandit’s dick stayed hard, the bulge bigger, his eyes on her massive, round breasts, his hands twitching, eager for more.

Pandit: Rekha, you’re holding back, I know there’s more to tell. Share everything, it’s the only way to be fully clean. What else did you do with Manoj?

Mom: Pandit Ji, I can’t, I’ve said too much, it’s all so shameful. There’s nothing else, I just want to pray now. Please, let’s do the ritual, I’m tired.

Pandit: No, Rekha, we need a special ritual for a sin like yours. Remove your blouse, stay in your bra, it’s part of the prayer. It’ll help God see your heart clearly.

Mom: Remove my blouse? Pandit Ji, is that really necessary? I’m not sure, it feels strange. Will it truly take my sins away?

Pandit: Yes, Rekha, it’s a sacred step, it shows your openness to God. Just your bra, it’s fine, I’ve done this with many women. Trust me, it’ll cleanse you.

Mom: Okay, Pandit Ji, if it’s for my sins, I’ll do it, but I’m nervous. This will make me clean, right? I want to be good again, for my family.

Mom stood, her fingers shaky, unbuttoning her blouse, the orange fabric falling to the floor, her bra tight, barely holding her massive, full breasts, the cups digging into her soft flesh, her cleavage deep, her nipples faintly visible through the thin material. 









She didn’t care much, her mind focused on cleansing her sins, her face calm but unsure, trusting Pandit’s lies. I couldn’t believe Mom was falling into this trap, my heart sinking, my eyes wide, knowing Pandit was a pervert, using fake rituals to touch her, his lust a disgusting trick.

Pandit spoke, his voice low, his eyes glued to her breasts, his dick hard, his hands trembling with excitement.

Pandit: Rekha, close your eyes and don’t open them, it’s part of the ritual. Lie on the bed, relax, let God work through me. I need to hold your breasts to pray, it’s sacred.

Mom: Hold my breasts, Pandit Ji? Is that okay, it feels so strange. If it’s for God, I’ll do it, I want my sins gone.

Pandit: Yes, Rekha, it’s necessary, trust me, it’s how we pray for big sins. Lie down, keep your eyes closed, I’ll chant and touch you. It’ll be over soon.

Mom lay on the bed, her bra tight, her massive breasts spilling out, her thick, round ass pressing into the mattress, her eyes closed, her face trusting but nervous. 

Pandit knelt beside her, his hands reaching for her breasts, massaging them through the bra, his fingers squeezing, rubbing her nipples, his voice chanting fake prayers, his dick bulging, his face red with lust. 





Mom’s face showed pleasure, her lips parting, her cheeks flushed, a soft moan escaping, her body relaxing under his touch.

I watched through a crack in the wall, my dick getting hard, hating myself, cursing my body for reacting, my mind screaming at Mom’s fall, Pandit’s hands defiling her breasts. 

His fingers pressed harder, circling her nipples, squeezing her full, heavy breasts, the bra stretching, his chants loud, covering his lust, his eyes wild, saliva at his mouth’s corner.

Mom spoke, her eyes still closed, her voice soft, asking about her sins, her face glowing with a mix of shame and pleasure.

Mom: Pandit Ji, are my sins going away? I feel something, is this working? Please, tell me God is forgiving me.

Pandit: Yes, Rekha, your sins are leaving, keep your eyes closed, don't open them. God sees your openness. Keep your eyes closed, let me pray harder, it’s working. You’re almost clean, just stay still.

Mom: Okay, Pandit Ji, I trust you, I want to be pure again. Is this really taking away what I did with Manoj? I need to be good for Amit and Sanjay.

Pandit: It’s working, Rekha, every touch pulls the sin out, God’s happy. Your body’s helping, your breasts are sacred now. Stay calm, we’re almost done

[Rajeev Gupta]

Mom’s face showed pleasure, her lips parted, her cheeks flushed, a soft moan escaping, unaware of his perversion. I watched through a crack in the wall, my heart pounding, my dick hard, cursing myself for getting aroused, angry at Pandit’s filthy hands defiling Mom, a supposed holy man acting like a pervert.

Pandit stopped massaging, his voice low, his eyes gleaming, telling Mom to turn over and bend, his hands hovering over her body, eager for more.

Pandit: Rekha, turn over and bend on the bed, on your knees. It’s part of the ritual to cleanse your sins fully. Do it now, God is watching.

Mom: Pandit Ji, why do I need to bend over? What does this have to do with praying? I’m not sure about this, it feels strange.

Pandit: Rekha, don’t ask questions, you must trust God’s way. This is sacred, it pulls the sin from your body. Turn over, bend, and keep your eyes closed.

Mom hesitated, her face uneasy, her lips tight, but she obeyed, rolling onto her stomach, then lifting herself onto her knees, her massive breasts hanging in the bra, her huge, plump ass raised high, the orange saree stretched tight over its round cheeks, the crack faintly visible. 

She bent forward, her thick thighs spread, her head resting on her arms, her body trembling, clearly uncomfortable, asking herself why this was happening, her thoughts loud in her mind.

Why is this happening to me,? This feels so weird, bending like this for a ritual. It’s not right, it’s not like any prayer I know. I came to be clean, but this makes me feel dirty, like I’m doing something bad again. Pandit Ji is holy, but why does this feel wrong? I want to stop, but I need my sins gone, for Amit, for Sanjay. Oh God, what’s going on?


I was angrier than ever, my fists clenched, my face hot, hating Pandit for making Mom bend like a whore, his eyes locked on her huge, round ass, his fake prayers a lie to touch her. 

I sensed Mom wasn’t comfortable, her trembling body, her tight face, her shaky breaths showing she didn’t want this, but she trusted Pandit, falling into his trap. I wanted to scream, to pull her out, but I stayed frozen, my dick throbbing, my mind a mess of rage and lust.

Pandit spoke, his voice oily, praising Mom, his eyes never leaving her plump ass, explaining why men were drawn to her, his words dripping with lust.

Pandit: Rekha, you did good, bending so well. Men are attracted to you because your body is a gift, your curves, your breasts, your buttocks, they’re divine, they pull men like moths to a flame.

Mom: Pandit Ji, I don’t want men to look at me like that, to bother me like Manoj did. I just want to live quietly with Amit and Sanjay. Can’t I stop them from staring?

Pandit: It’s impossible, Rekha, your beauty is too strong, your body calls to men, it’s God’s design. Men like Manoj will always want you, you can’t hide it, it’s who you are.

Mom: But Pandit Ji, I don’t want to be that woman, I want to be good, not someone men chase. Isn’t there a way to make them leave me alone?

Pandit: No, Rekha, it’s your power, accept it. Now turn your face away, don’t look back, keep your eyes closed, we’re going deeper into the ritual.

Mom turned her head, her eyes shut tight, her body still bent, her huge, plump ass high, the saree clinging to its thick, round shape. Pandit stared, his mouth open, saliva dripping down his chin, his eyes wild, his hands twitching, lust consuming him as he gazed at her ass, a ripe, sinful prize, its curves shaking slightly with her nervous breaths. 

I hated him more, my chest tight, his drooling face a disgrace, a holy man turned animal, worse than Manoj.

Pandit spoke again, his voice low, telling Mom he’d spank her buttocks, his hands already reaching, his dick bulging harder in his dhoti.

Pandit: Rekha, I must spank your buttocks now, it’s to drive the sins out of your body. It’s a sacred act, don’t be afraid, it’ll make you clean.

Mom: Spank my buttocks, Pandit Ji? Why is that needed? It sounds wrong, I’m not sure, will it really take my sins away?

Pandit: Yes, Rekha, it’s how we punish the flesh to free the soul. Accept it, it’s God’s will, it’ll remove what you did with Manoj. Stay bent, don’t move.

Mom: Okay, Pandit Ji, if it’s for my sins, I’ll do it, but it feels so strange. Please, make it quick, I want to be clean for my family.

Pandit raised his hand, his palm crashing onto Mom’s huge, round ass, the saree stretching, the thick cheeks jiggling like jelly under the blow, a loud slap echoing. 

Mom gasped, her face twisting in pain, her lips trembling, her eyes still closed, her voice a mix of shock and hurt.

Mom: Oh, Pandit Ji, that hurts, please, is it working? It feels so bad, I don’t like this, but I’ll do it for God.

Pandit slapped again, harder, her plump ass quivering, the saree outlining its massive shape, Mom whimpering, her face red, her mouth open, pain and shame mixing with a hint of something else, her body tensing. 

With one hand, Pandit squeezed her thick, round ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, kneading it, while his other hand pulled out his dick, big and veiny, the head swollen, precum dripping, and started masturbating, his strokes fast, his breaths heavy, his eyes fixed on her ass.

I couldn’t stop myself, my anger boiling, but my dick was hard, throbbing, and I pulled it out, stroking it, hating myself, my hand moving despite my rage, Mom’s bent body, her jiggling ass, Pandit’s filthy hands driving me crazy. 

I was angry at myself, cursing my body, my mind screaming I shouldn’t do this, but I couldn’t stop, my strokes matching Pandit’s, my heart torn between lust and hate.

Mom spoke, her eyes still closed, her voice nervous, sensing something wrong, asking what Pandit was doing, her face uneasy.

Mom: Pandit Ji, what are you doing? I hear strange sounds, is this still the ritual? Please, tell me what’s happening, I’m scared.

Pandit: Rekha, it’s just the prayer, I’m chanting, moving my hands, it’s all sacred. Keep your eyes closed, don’t worry, it’s working, your sins are leaving.

Pandit’s dick was huge, thick, and long, the veins bulging, the head purple, slick with precum, his hand rubbing fast, up and down, his fingers tight, his wrist twisting, his strokes rough, his breaths ragged, his eyes glued to Mom’s plump, round ass, the saree tight, her cheeks shaking from his spanks. 

He rubbed harder, his hand a blur, his dick pulsing, his other hand squeezing her ass, pulling the cheeks apart, the saree stretching, his lust a disgusting show, his chants fake, his voice hoarse.

I was angry at Mom now, my strokes slowing, hating her for not noticing, for keeping her eyes closed, letting Pandit touch her, his big dick out, his hands on her ass, her trust making her blind. 

She was falling deeper, a slut not just for Manoj but for this pervert, her holy heart gone, her body a toy for men, and I hated her for it, even as I jerked off, my dick betraying me.

Pandit’s rubbing got faster, his hand a frenzy, his dick swelling, his breaths short, his eyes wild, his mouth drooling, his chants louder to cover his grunts. 

His body shook, his dick spurting cum, thick white ropes shooting out, some landing on Mom’s saree-covered ass, splattering the orange fabric, dripping down her thick, round cheeks, the rest falling on the bed, a sticky mess. I also cummed because I was masturbating watching this happening.

He kept stroking, milking every drop, his hand slick, his dick pulsing, his face red, his lust spent but still hungry.


Pandit shouted Mom’s name, his voice loud, echoing, his cum still dripping, Mom’s face confused, her eyes closed, her voice shaky.

Pandit: Rekha, oh Rekha, yes, your sins are gone!

Mom: Pandit Ji, why are you shouting my name? Is something wrong? Did I do the ritual right?

Pandit: No, Rekha, it’s good, I shouted because God spoke your name, it means your sins are leaving. Stay still, don’t turn, I need to finish the prayer.

Mom: Okay, Pandit Ji, I trust you, but it feels so strange. Is it really working? I want to be clean, please tell me God heard me.

Pandit grabbed a cloth, his hands shaky, wiping his cum from Mom’s saree-covered ass, the fabric stained, his fingers brushing her thick cheeks, his face flushed, trying to hide his sin. 

Mom spoke, her voice nervous, asking what he was wiping, still not turning.

Mom: Pandit Ji, what are you wiping? I feel something on my saree, what is it? Is it part of the ritual?

Pandit: Rekha, it’s just holy water, I spilled some during the prayer. I’m cleaning it, don’t worry, it’s normal, keep your eyes closed.

Mom: Holy water? Okay, Pandit Ji, if you say so, but it feels odd. Are we almost done, I want to finish and go home.

Pandit: Yes, Rekha, we’re almost done, you did well, God is happy. Sit up now, put your blouse back on, cover yourself, the ritual is complete.

Mom sat up, her bra still tight, her massive, full breasts spilling out, her face relieved but uneasy, her hands grabbing her blouse, pulling it on, buttoning it fast, hiding her breasts, the fabric stretching over their round shape. 

Her saree was wrinkled, the cum stains faint, her thick thighs shifting, her huge, plump ass settling on the bed, her eyes opening, looking at Pandit, trusting but unsure.

Mom spoke, asking questions, her voice soft, wanting to know about her sins, Pandit’s answers oily, condoning her adultery, urging her to return.

Mom: Pandit Ji, are all my sins really gone now? What I did with Manoj, the sex, the… other things, is it washed away? I need to know I’m clean.

Pandit: Yes, Rekha, every sin is gone, God forgave you, you’re pure again. Sex with another man is normal, not a big sin, it’s easy to wash away, like I said.

Mom: Normal? Pandit Ji, I can’t keep doing that, it’s wrong, I want to be a good wife to Amit, a good mom to Sanjay. I can’t sin again, I won’t.

Pandit: Rekha, you’re a woman, it’s natural, many women do it and come to me. I want to see you every time, to pray with you, keep you clean. You’ll need it, your beauty draws sin.

Mom: Every time? Pandit Ji, why do you want me to keep coming? Is it just for prayers, or something else? I don’t understand.
Pandit: Just for prayers, Rekha, to keep your soul pure, your body tempts men, so you’ll need my help often. Come back, I’ll always pray for you, you’re special.

Mom: Okay, Pandit Ji, I’ll come for prayers, but only to stay good, not to sin more. I want to live right, for my family. Can I trust you to help me?

Pandit: Of course, Rekha, trust me, I’m your guide, God works through me. You’re clean now, but come back soon, we’ll pray again, keep you safe.

Mom: Thank you, Pandit Ji, I feel lighter, but I’m still scared. I’ll try to be good, not like those other women. Can I call Sanjay now, are we done?

Pandit: Yes, Rekha, call your son, you’re free to go. You did well, God’s proud. Come back whenever you need, my door’s open for you.
Mom: Sanjay, come here, we’re done, let’s go home. Thank you, Pandit Ji, for helping me, I hope I’m clean now. Goodbye, we’ll see you again.

Me: Okay, Mom, I’m coming, let’s get out of here. Goodbye, Pandit Ji, thanks for the prayers, I guess.
Pandit: Goodbye, Sanjay, take care of your mother, she’s blessed. Rekha, return soon, God’s waiting for you, I’ll pray harder next time.

Mom and I walked out, the wooden door creaking, the incense smell fading, my heart still burning, angry at Pandit’s perversion, his cum on Mom’s ass, his fake prayers, his big dick ruining her purity. 

I was angry at Mom for falling, for not seeing his lust, for letting him touch her, but my dick was still hard, my hand sticky, hating myself for jerking off, cheering Mom’s slutty fall while cursing her for it. 

Mom’s saree swayed, her huge, plump ass shaking, her massive breasts bouncing, her face calm, believing she was clean, unaware of the cum stains, her holy heart clinging to lies, her body a whore’s, owned by Pandit’s hands, Manoj’s cock, and every man’s stare.





Give me your thoughts guys!

[Rajeev Gupta]

The next day, I sat in my college classroom, the wooden desk scratched, the air stuffy with sweat and chalk dust, the teacher’s voice droning about math equations on the chalkboard. 

My mind was somewhere else, stuck on last night at Pandit Ganesh’s house, my stomach churning as I pictured his filthy hands squeezing Mom’s massive, full breasts, his big dick bulging in his dhoti, jerking off while spanking her huge, plump ass, cum splattering her orange saree. 

His drooling mouth, his fake chants, his lies about “holy water” made me sick, a so-called holy man turned pervert, worse than any street creep. 

I couldn’t focus, my pencil tapping the desk, my heart heavy, visualizing something worse like a threesome, Manoj slamming his cock into Mom’s stretched filthy asshole, Pandit Ganesh pounding her pussy, both men laughing, their faces twisted with lust, Mom moaning loud, her voice echoing in my head: 

“AAHH UUUHH YESSS, FUCK ME, HARDER, PLEASE!” Her massive breasts bounced, her thick, round ass jiggled, her face lost in pleasure, a slut owned by two men, no trace of the praying wife she used to be.

I cursed myself for thinking like this, my face hot, my hands clenched, hating my brain for thinking like this, for turning Mom into a whore in my head, her moans haunting me, my dick twitching despite my anger. 

“Sanjay, stop it, she’s your mom, not some slut, your mom is a pious woman” I whispered to myself, shaking my head, trying to erase the images, but they stuck, Manoj’s cock deep in her ass, Pandit’s dick in her pussy, Mom screaming for more. 

I decided I had to tell Mom not to visit Pandit again, his rituals were a lie, a trap to touch her, and I couldn’t let her fall deeper, even if she was already Manoj’s slut, her huge, round ass stretched, her holy heart gone.

The bell rang, time to go home, and I packed my books, my bag heavy, my hands shaky from my thoughts. I reached into my pocket, feeling the house key, cold and metal, remembering Dad gave it to me yesterday. 

Rushing out for work, saying he misplaced it in his pocket, his face stressed, telling us he’d be back tomorrow because of a late job. 

I slung my bag over my shoulder, the classroom emptying, my sneakers scuffing the floor, my mind set on talking to Mom, hoping she’d listen, praying she’d stop seeing Pandit, even if I couldn’t stop her from Manoj.

I walked home, the streets dusty, the sun hot, my shirt sticking to my back, my thoughts still on Pandit’s hands, Mom’s moans, my own sick visuals. Our house came into view, the door shut, the windows dark, a strange quiet around it. 

The door was locked from inside, odd for this time, and I noticed suspicious things—a man’s shoeprint in the dirt by the gate, not Dad’s size. My instinct screamed Mom was being fucked, my chest tight, but I wasn’t sure, my head spinning, hoping it was nothing. 

Dad wasn’t home, like he said, gone until tomorrow, and I remembered the key in my pocket, my fingers closing around it, deciding to open the door, to see what was happening, my heart pounding, my throat dry.

I turned the key slowly, the lock clicking, the door creaking open, my sneakers soft on the floor, my bag heavy on my shoulder. The house hit me with a smell, strong and gross, like Mom’s ass, the same sour, musky stink from when she pushed Manoj’s cum out after anal, the odor thick, filling the sitting room, proof of what I feared. 


My heart pounded harder, my dick rising, a hard bulge in my pants, hating myself for getting aroused, my body betraying me as my mind screamed with worry, anger, and disgust.

Moans came from Mom’s room, loud and wild, her voice echoing, “AAHH UUUHH YESSS,” the same screams from my visuals, now real, shaking the walls, the sitting room loud with her pleasure. 

The kitchen was a mess, utensils scattered, a glass cup on the floor, water spilled, like whoever was fucking Mom was thirsty, rushing to drink, too horny to care. 

The moans grew louder, Mom’s screams piercing, “OHHH FUCK, HARDER,” her voice desperate, the bed creaking, the house alive with sin. I crept closer, my sneakers silent, seeing Mom’s bedroom door slightly open, a crack showing the scene inside, left that way because they thought I was at college and Dad was gone, their boldness a slap to my face.

I peeked through, shocked, my eyes wide, my mouth dry, seeing Mom riding Manoj, both of them naked, the pervert, his body naked, his hands gripping her hips. I didn’t know how he knew Dad was away—did Mom, already a slut, tell him, inviting him to fuck her again? 







Something in me said she didn’t, that Manoj tricked her, but my head was a mess, doubting her, hating him. Mom was on top, bouncing hard, her huge, round ass slamming down, its thick cheeks jiggling like waves, her massive, full breasts bouncing, her orange saree bunched at her waist, her pussy swallowing his cock. 

Manoj’s dick was massive, thick and veiny, the head swollen, sliding deep into her pussy, then out, slick with her juices, her pussy hole stretched wide, used to his size after nights of fucking, her pussy molded to his cock, no longer tight, a slut’s hole built for him, not Dad’s smaller dick.

Mom’s face was wild, her eyes half-closed, her lips parted, moaning, “AAHH UUUHH YESSS,” her hair loose, her body sweating, her thick thighs flexing, her plump ass quivering with each bounce, her pussy gripping him, her slutty side in full control. 

Manoj grinned, his hands slapping her ass, his cock thrusting up, his face smug, knowing he owned her, her body his to fuck, her moans his prize. 


I stood frozen, my dick rock-hard, my heart racing, angry at Manoj, at Mom, at myself, my hand twitching, wanting to jerk off but fighting it, my mind cursing her for falling, for riding him like a whore, her holy life dead.

Manoj spoke, his voice mocking, admitting he lied about Dad, his hands squeezing Mom’s thick, round ass, his cock deep inside her.







Manoj: Rekha, I lied about Amit not coming back, I knew he was gone for work. I wanted you alone, to fuck you like this. Why’d you let me in if you didn’t want it?

Mom: Manoj, I didn’t want to have sex with you, I told you to leave, I didn’t plan this. Ohhh, AAHH UUUHH, please, I didn’t want it to happen again.

Manoj: Didn’t want it? Then why are you jumping on my dick, Rekha, bouncing like a slut? You’re fucking me on your own, look at you, moaning like a whore.

Mom: I… I don’t know, Manoj, my body’s doing this, I can’t stop, AAHH UUUHH YESSS. It’s not me, I’m trying to be good, I swear, I didn’t want this.

Manoj: Trying to be good? Your pussy’s sucking my cock, Rekha, you love it. Why’s your ass bouncing so hard if you’re such a good wife? Admit it, you’re my slut now.

Mom: No, Manoj, I’m not your slut, I’m Amit’s wife, Sanjay’s mom, OHHH FUCK, UUUHH. I didn’t mean to do this, you pushed me, I’m not like this.

Manoj: Pushed you? You’re riding me like a horse, Rekha, your pussy’s so wet, it’s begging for my dick. Why don’t you stop if you hate it so much?

Mom: I can’t stop, Manoj, it feels too good, AAHH UUUHH, but I don’t want it, I’m ashamed. Please, don’t make me say these things, it’s wrong.

Manoj: Ashamed? Your moans say you love it, Rekha, screaming louder than last time. Why’s your pussy so loose, huh? It’s used to my cock, isn’t it?

Mom: Stop it, Manoj, don’t talk like that, OHHH YESSS, UUUHH. My body’s weak, but I’m not a slut, I’m trying to fight this, I love Amit, I do.




Manoj: Love Amit? Then why’s my dick balls-deep in you, Rekha? You’re fucking me while he’s away, you planned this, didn’t you, you dirty whore?

Mom: No, I didn’t plan it, Manoj, you came here, AAHH UUUHH FUCK. I didn’t tell you Amit was gone, I don’t know how you knew, I’m not that woman.

Manoj: I knew because I watch you, Rekha, I know your house, your life. Why’s your ass so big and your pussy so tight, bouncing like that? You’re made for fucking, admit it.

Mom: Please, Manoj, stop asking me this, OHHH UUUHH YESSS. I’m not made for this, I’m a mother, a wife, I don’t want to be your slut, I can’t.

My heart sank, my dick throbbing, my hand frozen, hearing Manoj corner Mom, his questions cutting her, her moans betraying her, her words weak against his cock. 

I was angry, hating Manoj for tricking her, hating Mom for riding him, her huge, plump ass a slut’s prize, her pussy stretched, her moans filling the house. 

I cursed myself again, my dick hard, my mind sick, wanting to stop them but glued to the scene, Mom’s bouncing body, Manoj’s massive dick, my family broken, my holy Mom a whore, and me, a pervert like them, watching, hating, loving it all



Mom rode Manoj hard, her thick, round ass bouncing like waves, slamming down on his massive, veiny cock, the head swollen, sliding deep into her stretched pussy, then out, slick with her juices. 

Her moans loud, “AAHH UUUHH YESSS,” filling the house, the bed creaking, the sitting room echoing with her screams. Manoj lay beneath her, his hands gripping her hips, slapping her plump ass, his grin smug, his cock owning her, her pussy molded to his size, no longer tight, a slut’s hole built for him.

I stood at the slightly open door, my sneakers silent, my heart pounding, my dick rock-hard in my pants, watching Mom’s thick, round ass quiver, her pussy swallowing Manoj’s cock, her moans wild, 

“OHHH FUCK, HARDER.” I couldn’t see her face, her head tilted back, her hair loose, but I knew she enjoyed it, her body telling me everything—her hips grinding, her ass slamming down, her moans desperate, “AAHH UUUHH YESSS,” her massive breasts bouncing

Her thighs trembling, all signs she was lost in pleasure, a slut craving Manoj’s dick, not fighting him, her holy days gone. My chest tightened, my face hot, knowing she loved it, her body a whore’s, betraying Dad, her screams proof of her fall.






Manoj’s face was red, sweat dripping down his cheeks, his eyes locked on Mom, hungry, lustful, his gaze crawling over her massive, full breasts, her thick, round ass, his grin wide, like he’d won her, his cock thrusting up, meeting her bounces. 

Both were sweating, Mom’s skin shiny, her saree damp, Manoj’s chest glistening, his hands rough on her plump ass, his breaths heavy, his pleasure clear, a pervert fucking my Mom, his massive dick stretching her pussy, her moans his reward.

Manoj spoke, his voice mocking, asking about his dick, his hands squeezing her thick ass, his cock deep inside her, pushing her to admit her desire.

Manoj: Rekha, did you miss my dick these last three days? Bet you were craving it, weren’t you, bouncing like this now?

Mom: No, Manoj, I didn’t miss it, AAHH UUUHH, yes, I mean no, I didn’t want this, I swear, OHHH YESSS. I’m not like that, stop saying it.

Manoj: Yes? So you did miss my dick, Rekha, you just said it, moaning like a slut. If you don’t like it, get off my dick right now, go on.

Mom: I… I can’t, Manoj, OHHH FUCK, UUUHH, I didn’t mean yes, I’m confused, my body’s doing this, not me. Please, don’t embarrass me.

Manoj: Confused? You’re still riding me, Rekha, your pussy’s so wet, sucking my cock. You love it, don’t you? Why don’t you stop, huh, slut?

Mom: I’m trying, Manoj, AAHH UUUHH YESSS, I don’t love it, I’m not a slut, I’m just… I can’t stop, it feels too good, but I don’t want it.

Mom didn’t get off, her thick, round ass kept bouncing, her pussy gripping his massive dick, her moans louder, “OHHH YESSS,” her massive breasts jiggling, her body betraying her words, riding him harder, her slutty side winning. 

Manoj laughed, his grin wider, embarrassing her more, his hands slapping her plump ass, his cock thrusting deep, knowing she couldn’t resist, her pussy stretched for him, her moans a confession.

Manoj: Look at you, Rekha, still fucking me, your ass bouncing like a whore’s. You can’t stop, can you? Your pussy’s mine, admit it, you’re my slut.

Mom: No, Manoj, I’m not yours, AAHH UUUHH, I’m trying to be good, I don’t want this, OHHH FUCK. Please, stop making me feel bad, I can’t help it.

I stood there, my hand on my dick, pulling it out, stroking it, my heart racing, my face burning, angry at myself for masturbating, for getting hard watching Mom ride Manoj, her thick, round ass quivering, her moans filling my ears, “AAHH UUUHH YESSS.” 


I hated myself, my hand moving fast, my dick throbbing, cursing my body for wanting this, for cheering Mom’s slutty fall, my mind screaming to stop, but my strokes kept going, my anger mixing with lust, a sick cycle I couldn’t break. 

I didn’t think about being like Mom or losing manners, just hated my weakness, my hard dick a traitor, my heart torn, watching her pussy stretch, her massive breasts bounce, Manoj’s cock owning her.

Manoj spoke again, his voice cruel, demanding Mom disrespect Dad, pushing her to say she hated Amit and loved him, his hands gripping her thick ass, his cock slamming into her pussy.

Manoj: Rekha, say you hate Amit, your boring husband, say you love me, my dick. Come on, slut, disrespect him, show me you’re mine.

Mom: No, Manoj, I can’t say that, I love Amit, he’s my husband, AAHH UUUHH. I won’t do it, please, don’t make me, OHHH YESSS.

Manoj: Say it, Rekha, or I’ll stop fucking you, say you hate Amit, love my cock. Do it, you’re already fucking me, be my whore, say it.

Mom: Okay, Manoj, I… I hate Amit, I love you, AAHH UUUHH FUCK. I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry, but you made me, OHHH YESSS.

Manoj: Good, Rekha, now worse, say Amit’s a loser, his dick’s small, you only want my cock. Say it, slut, make it hurt him, do it.

Mom: Amit’s a loser, his dick’s small, I only want your cock, Manoj, AAHH UUUHH. He’s nothing, you’re better, I’m yours, OHHH FUCK YESSS.

Mom’s words cut me, shattering my heart, her voice repeating Manoj’s orders, calling Dad a loser, mocking his dick, saying she was Manoj’s, her moans mixing with her betrayal, “AAHH UUUHH YESSS,” her thick, round ass still bouncing, her pussy wet.

Her massive breasts shaking. I was angry, my chest tight, my face hot, her words a knife, turning Dad into nothing, her love for him gone, her slutty mouth spitting hate, all for Manoj’s cock. 

I stopped masturbating, my hand frozen, my dick still hard but my heart done, deciding to interrupt them, to stop this, pretending to be innocent, acting like I just got home, not a spy watching their fuck.

I shouted, my voice loud, breaking the moans, my sneakers scuffing the floor, my heart pounding, my anger spilling out.

Me: Mom! What’s going on? I’m home!






Mom: Sanjay! Oh God, no, AAHH, Manoj, stop, he’s here, my son, please, OHHH UUUHH. How did you get in, Sanjay, oh no!

Manoj: Shit, kid’s home, Rekha, calm down, he didn’t see much. Hey, Sanjay, just talking to your mom, relax, it’s fine, go to your room.

Mom: Sanjay, go, please, I’ll explain later, OHHH FUCK, I mean, just go, I’m okay, don’t worry, AAHH UUUHH. Manoj, stop, he’s here!

Manoj: Relax, Rekha, he’s a kid, doesn’t get it. Keep going, you’re still wet, finish what we started, he’ll leave, won’t you, Sanjay?

Me: Mom, what’s happening? Why’s Manoj here? I’m not leaving, tell me now!

Mom was shocked, her voice panicked, her moans slipping out, “AAHH UUUHH,” her thick, round ass slowing, still on Manoj’s cock, her massive breasts heaving, her face hidden but her body tense. 

Manoj wasn’t that shocked, his grin calm, his eyes sharp, like he knew I’d come, his massive dick still hard, his hands on her plump ass, ready to keep fucking, his smugness a punch to my gut. 

I stood there, pretending innocence, my heart broken, my dick betraying me, angry at Mom’s words, Manoj’s lies, and my own sick lust, the room still stinking of her ass, her moans fading, but her slutty fall burning in my eyes

[Rajeev Gupta]

   HELLO FRIENDS, THIS IS THE FINAL PART OF THIS WHOLE STORY, ENJOY!!



Mom: Sanjay! Oh God, no, AAHH, Manoj, stop, he’s here, my son, please, OHHH UUUHH. How did you get in, Sanjay, oh no!

Manoj: Shit, kid’s home, Rekha, calm down, he didn’t see much. Hey, Sanjay, just talking to your mom, relax, it’s fine, go to your room.

Mom: Sanjay, go, please, I’ll explain later, OHHH FUCK, I mean, just go, I’m okay, don’t worry, AAHH UUUHH. Manoj, stop, he’s here!

Manoj: Relax, Rekha, he’s a kid, doesn’t get it. Keep going, you’re still wet, finish what we started, he’ll leave, won’t you, Sanjay?

Me: Mom, what’s happening? Why’s Manoj here? I’m not leaving, tell me now!


Mom was still bouncing on Manoj’s cock, her massive, round ass slamming down, the sound of flesh smacking flesh filling the room, her orange saree bunched at her waist, her thick thighs flexing. Her moans were loud, “AAHH UUUHH YESSS,” her huge breasts bouncing wildly, her face lost in pleasure, sweat dripping down her neck. 

I stood frozen, peeking through the crack in the door, my dick hard, my heart pounding, when her eyes caught mine. Her face froze for a second, but she didn’t stop, her hips still grinding, her pussy swallowing his massive, veiny cock. 

She spoke, her voice shaky but loud over her moans, talking to me like it was normal, her shame gone, eroded by the pleasure, her body betraying her as she rode him.

Mom: Sanjay, ohhh, AAHH, why are you here? Go, baby, go back to your room, I’ll come see you, UUUHH YESSS.

Me: Mom, how’d you not hear me? I used the key Dad gave me. What… what are you doing?

Mom: Manoj’s giving me a massage, baby, OHHH FUCK, it’s just a massage, don’t worry. Go back, please, AAHH UUUHH, I’ll come soon.

Me: It looks like it feels good, Mom. Are you feeling good?

Mom: Yes, baby, it feels good, OHHH YESSS, but you need to go, Sanjay, please, go back, UUUHH. I’m fine, I’ll see you soon, just go! 







 
Her voice was desperate, her moans louder, her body bouncing harder, her plump ass jiggling, her pussy stretched wide around Manoj’s cock. She spoke to me like it was nothing, like riding another man’s dick was just a massage, her shame washed away by lust.

Her words casual even as her body betrayed her, her hips grinding, her breasts bouncing, no trace of the holy mother I knew. I didn’t call her out, didn’t say she was wrong—I spoke like she was doing something normal, my voice calm, accepting, as if her fucking Manoj was okay, my mind twisted by the sight, my dick throbbing.

Manoj grinned, his hands slapping her ass, his cock thrusting up into her. He spoke, his voice mocking, loud enough for me to hear, pushing her further.

Manoj: Rekha, let the boy watch. He doesn’t know what’s going on, look at him, he’s just standing there. Let him see you bounce, you love it anyway.

Mom: OHHH UUUHH, no, Manoj, don’t say that, AAHH YESSS. He can’t watch, he’s my son, I’m not like this, please, stop it!  

Her moan was loud, her body shaking, her pussy gripping his cock tighter, but her words were weak, her shame gone as she kept riding him, talking to me while fucking him, her motherly role shattered. 

I heard a faint creak from the front door downstairs, like someone entered the house. I remembered I didn’t lock it after coming in, but I dismissed it as just the house settling, my eyes glued to Mom’s bouncing ass, her moans drowning out everything else. My dick was rock-hard, my hand twitching, too caught up to care.

Mom: Sanjay, go, baby, please, AAHH UUUHH, go now, I’ll come to you, just leave!  

I nodded, stepping back, pretending to leave, my sneakers soft on the floor. But I didn’t go. I crept to the side, hiding behind the wall, peeking through the crack again, my heart racing, my dick throbbing. 

Mom’s moans grew louder, and I thought she’d stop, that my presence would snap her out of it. But I was shocked—she didn’t stop. Instead, she adjusted, lifting her hips, her thick, round ass hovering over Manoj’s cock. 

She reached down, her fingers wrapping around his massive, slick dick, guiding it back into her pussy, her hole stretched wide, wet with her juices. She positioned herself carefully, her knees spread, her plump ass lowered, aligning his cock perfectly with her pussy, sliding it in slowly at first, then slamming down, her cheeks jiggling, her moans wild, 

“OHHH FUCK YESSS.” Her body took over, riding him with purpose, her pussy molded to his size, her hips moving in a rhythm, up and down, her ass bouncing like waves, her breasts swaying, her saree slipping further, her control gone.

I heard footsteps again, this time on the stairs, slow and heavy, coming closer. My mind registered it, but I dismissed it again, thinking it was just the house, my eyes locked on Mom’s body, her pussy swallowing Manoj’s cock, my hand gripping my dick through my pants, too distracted to care. 

Manoj spoke again, his voice cruel, embarrassing her, pushing her to admit her lust.

Manoj: Rekha, you love this dick, don’t you? Look at you, bouncing like a whore, your pussy’s so wet for me. Why’re you fucking me so hard if you’re such a good mom?

Mom: OHHH UUUHH, no, Manoj, I’m a good mother, a good wife, AAHH YESSS. It’s not me, it’s my body, I don’t want this, I swear!

Manoj: Your body? Your pussy’s gripping my cock, Rekha, you’re riding me faster than last time. Admit it, you love it, say it!

Mom: I don’t love it, Manoj, OHHH FUCK, it’s my body, not me, UUUHH YESSS. I’m trying to be good, I love Amit, I’m not a slut!

Manoj: Not a slut? You’re fucking me in your house, Rekha, your son was just here, and you’re still bouncing. You love this dick, don’t lie!

Mom: No, I don’t, AAHH UUUHH, it’s not me, my body wants it, not my heart, please, stop saying that, OHHH YESSS!  

Mom rode him faster, her ass a blur, her pussy slamming down, her moans wild, her thick thighs trembling, her breasts bouncing, her face flushed with pleasure. She lied to herself, her words weak, her body in control, her pussy stretched, her shame gone. 

Manoj grinned, his hands gripping her hips, his cock thrusting up, and then he spoke, his voice low, urgent.

Manoj: Rekha, I’m gonna cum inside you, I want to fill you up, let me do it.

Mom: No, Manoj, OHHH UUUHH, I’ll get pregnant, I can’t, please don’t, AAHH YESSS. I’m not on anything, it’s not safe!

Manoj: Come on, Rekha, you love it, let me cum in you, your pussy’s begging for it. I know you want it, just let it happen.

Mom: I can’t, Manoj, OHHH FUCK, I’ll get pregnant, Amit will know, please, pull out, UUUHH YESSS, don’t do it!

Manoj: Why pull out? Your pussy’s so wet, Rekha, it wants my cum. You’re riding me like you need it, let me fill you, come on!

Mom: No, Manoj, I’m begging you, OHHH YESSS, don’t cum inside, I can’t have a baby, I’m a mother, a wife, AAHH UUUHH, please stop!

Manoj: Stop? You’re fucking me harder, Rekha, your pussy’s sucking me in. I’m gonna cum, you can’t stop me, you love it too much!

Mom: OHHH UUUHH, no, Manoj, I don’t, my body does, not me, please, pull out, I can’t get pregnant, AAHH YESSS, don’t!  

Her voice was desperate, her moans louder, her ass bouncing faster, her pussy gripping his cock, her body betraying her words. The footsteps were louder now, climbing the stairs, closer, heavier, unmistakable. 

My heart raced, but I didn’t move, my hand on my dick, my eyes locked on Mom’s jiggling ass, her pussy stretched wide, her moans filling the house. The sight was too much, Mom riding Manoj, her body lost in lust, Manoj’s cruel grin, his cock deep inside her. 

The footsteps stopped just behind me, but I didn’t turn, didn’t care, my mind consumed, my dick throbbing, the scene in front of me drowning out everything else

Mom’s moans filled the room, her thick, round ass bouncing relentlessly on Manoj’s massive cock, her orange saree crumpled around her waist, her heavy breasts swaying with each thrust. 

Her pussy stretched wide, glistening with her juices, her thighs trembling as she rode him harder, her voice a mix of desperation and ecstasy. “OHHH UUUHH, YESSS,” she cried, her body betraying her words as she tried to maintain the facade of a good mother. 

Manoj’s hands gripped her hips, his cruel grin widening as he thrust upward, his cock plunging deep into her. 

The footsteps behind me grew louder, heavy and deliberate, but I was too transfixed, my hand gripping my throbbing dick through my pants, my heart pounding as I peeked through the crack in the door.


Mom: OHHH FUCK, Manoj, what about Amit? AAHH UUUHH, my husband, what do I do? I can’t keep doing this, YESSS, it’s wrong!

Manoj: Rekha, fuck Amit. Leave him. I’ll marry you, baby. You’re mine, this pussy’s mine. OHHH, look at you riding me, you want this life with me, don’t you?

Mom’s hips slowed for a moment, her ass hovering over his cock, her fingers gripping his shoulders. Her face twisted, a mix of lust and conflict, sweat dripping down her neck as she processed his words. 

Her pussy still clenched around his shaft, her body unwilling to stop even as her mind wrestled with the idea. She bit her lip, her moans softer now, “AAHH UUUHH,” as she thought it over, her thick thighs trembling.

Manoj: Come on, Rekha, say it. You want me, not him. Leave Amit, be my wife. I’ll give you everything, baby, this dick every night. What do you say?

Mom: OHHH YESSS, Manoj, I… I don’t know, AAHH UUUHH, it’s too much, my family, Sanjay, Amit… but, OHHH FUCK, okay, yes, I’ll do it!

She nodded, her head bobbing as her hips resumed their rhythm, slamming down harder, her ass jiggling, her pussy swallowing his cock completely. Her moans grew wilder, “OHHH UUUHH YESSS,” her shame evaporating as she committed to Manoj, her body fully surrendered to him. 

I stood frozen, my jaw dropping, my dick throbbing harder despite the shock. My mom, the woman who raised me, who prayed every morning, was agreeing to leave Dad for this man, to let him claim her completely. 

And then, Manoj’s voice grew urgent, his hands tightening on her hips.

Manoj: Rekha, I’m gonna cum, baby. Let me make you pregnant, fill you up, give you my baby. You want it, don’t you?

Mom: OHHH UUUHH, Manoj, no, I can’t, AAHH YESSS, it’s not safe, Amit will know, I’ll get pregnant, please don’t!

Manoj: You’re mine now, Rekha. You said yes. Let me cum inside, make you a mom again. Your pussy’s begging for it, look at you, riding me like a slut!

Mom: I’m not a slut, OHHH FUCK, Manoj, I can’t, but… AAHH YESSS, okay, do it, cum in me, I want it!

I gasped, my heart pounding so hard I thought it would burst. My mom, my holy, devoted mom, was agreeing to let Manoj impregnate her, to carry his child while still married to Dad. 

Her words shattered me, yet my dick was rock-hard, my hand rubbing it through my pants as I watched her betray everything. Her ass bounced faster, her moans louder, her pussy gripping his cock as she surrendered completely.

Manoj’s hands clamped onto her plump ass, his fingers digging into her flesh, spreading her cheeks wide as he fucked her harder. His thrusts were relentless, his massive cock slamming up into her pussy, the wet, slapping sound of their bodies colliding filling the room. 










Mom’s moans were wild, “OHHH UUUHH YESSS,” her breasts bouncing violently, her saree slipping off her shoulder, her body glistening with sweat. Manoj grunted, his face contorted with pleasure, his cock pulsing as he neared his climax.

Manoj: Fuck, Rekha, here it comes, I’m cumming, take it all, baby!

Mom: OHHH FUCK, YESSS, Manoj, cum in me, fill me up, AAHH UUUHH!

His hips bucked upward, his cock buried deep inside her, and he groaned loudly as he came, his cum flooding her pussy. Mom’s body shook, her ass jiggling as she rode out his orgasm, her pussy milking every drop from him. 

She collapsed onto his chest, her heavy breasts pressed against him, her breath ragged. Then, to my shock, she lifted her head, kissed him deeply, her lips locked on his, and smiled—a soft, satisfied smile that I’d never seen on her face before.

Manoj: Rekha, why you smiling like that? Damn, baby, you’re glowing.

Mom: I don’t know, Manoj, OHHH, it just… feels right. I haven’t felt this alive in years, UUUHH, you make me feel things Amit never did.

Manoj: Never seen you like this, Rekha. You’re wild tonight, fucking me like that with your kid right there. What happened? Why you changing like this?

Mom: It’s you, Manoj. AAHH, you make my body do things I can’t control. I tried to be good, but… OHHH, I can't pretend, I want this, I want you. I don’t care anymore, I’m yours. I don't care about my family anymore.

Their words stung, each one a knife to my chest, yet I couldn’t look away, my dick still hard, my mind twisted by the sight of Mom’s betrayal. Her pussy was still wrapped around his cock, his cum leaking out, pooling on the bed as they kissed again, her smile brighter, her shame gone.

Suddenly, a voice behind me snapped me out of my trance, low and confused, sending a chill down my spine.

Voice: Sanjay, what the hell are you doing here? What are you watching?

I spun around, my heart stopping as I saw Dad standing there, his face a mix of confusion and suspicion. My hand was still on my dick, and I quickly shoved it back into my trousers, my face burning with shame. 

My heart pounded so hard I thought it would explode, my breath shallow as I realized the truth was seconds away from unraveling.

Dad: Sanjay, answer me! Why are you standing here like this? And why does it smell so… stinky in here?

I froze, my voice caught in my throat, my mind racing. The room reeked of sex—sweat, cum, and Mom’s arousal, a thick, musky scent that filled the air. 

My heart had never pounded this hard; I knew it was over. Dad was going to find out, and everything would collapse. I couldn’t speak, my lips trembling, my eyes darting to the floor.

Dad: Sanjay, what’s going on? Why won’t you answer me?

I stayed silent, my body shaking, my mind screaming. Dad’s eyes narrowed, and he stepped forward, brushing past me toward the door. My stomach dropped as he peered through the crack, his body stiffening as he saw Mom on top of Manoj, her pussy still impaled on his cock, his cum leaking out, their lips locked in a passionate kiss. 







Dad’s face went pale, his eyes wide with shock, his voice barely a whisper.

Dad: Rekha?!

I couldn’t take it. I bolted, my sneakers pounding the floor as I ran downstairs to the sitting room, my heart racing, my mind a blur. Behind me, I heard shouting—Dad’s voice, angry and broken, Mom’s voice, desperate and pleading, Manoj’s voice, defiant and cruel. 

I collapsed onto the couch, my hands clamped over my ears, trying to block out the chaos upstairs. The screams echoed, words I couldn’t make out, each one a reminder of the family shattering above me.

Minutes later, Dad came down the stairs, his footsteps heavy, his face a mask of devastation. His eyes were red, his cheeks wet with tears, he was crying, his shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world had crushed him. 

He didn’t look at me, just stood there, staring at the floor, his hands trembling.

Me: Dad, what happened? What’s going on?

Dad: Sanjay, it’s… it’s nothing you need to worry about right now. Just… pack your things. We’re leaving.

Me: Leaving? Why are you crying, Dad? What did Mom do? Is she okay?

Dad: Don’t ask me that, Sanjay. I can’t… I can’t talk about it. Just pack. We’re going, now.

Me: But what about Mom? Is she coming with us? What’s happening, Dad? Please, tell me!

Dad: Your mother… she’s made her choice. She’s not coming. We’ll be fine, Sanjay, just you and me. Now pack, let’s go.

His voice was calm but hollow, his words carefully chosen to shield me from the truth, but I knew. I saw it—Mom’s betrayal, her body wrapped around Manoj, her smile as she kissed him. 

I wanted to scream, to demand answers, but Dad’s broken expression stopped me. I nodded, grabbing my backpack, shoving clothes and books inside, my hands shaking. 

We left the house, the door slamming behind us, the sound final, like the end of everything I knew.




                                                                      Years Later




Three years passed, and the world had changed. Mom stayed with Manoj, and they had a daughter named Hareeta, a bright, curious girl with Mom’s eyes and Manoj’s smile. 

They lived in a small house across town, their life seemingly happy, a new family built on the ruins of ours. I heard through whispers that Mom and Manoj were married now, their love unapologetic, their bond sealed by Hareeta’s birth. 

Despite everything, I was happy for them, in a strange, twisted way. Mom seemed alive, free in a way she never was with Dad, her laughter brighter when I saw her.

Dad forbade me from seeing her, his pain still raw, his rules strict. But I couldn’t stay away. I’d sneak out, taking the bus to their house, sitting with Mom in their small garden, her sarees still vibrant, her smile warm but guarded. 

She never talked about what happened, never explained why she chose Manoj, why she broke our family. Her silence was loud, but I didn’t push. I just wanted to see her, to know she was okay.

At night, though, I saw more than I expected. Through the crack in their bedroom door, I’d catch them—Mom and Manoj, their bodies entwined, her moans echoing as he fucked her hard. 

Her pussy stretched around his cock, her ass jiggling as he took her from behind, her screams of “OHHH YESSS” filling the house. Sometimes, he’d fuck her ass, her body trembling, her face lost in pleasure, her saree discarded on the floor. 

I’d watch, my dick hard, my hand rubbing myself, unable to look away.

Hareeta, their daughter, became my friend. At 118 years old, she was curious, always asking me questions about college, about Dad, about why I came in secret. 

We’d play in the garden, her giggles a bright spot in my tangled world. But at night, when Mom and Manoj thought we were asleep, Hareeta and I would creep to their door, peeking through the crack. 

We’d watch Mom’s body bounce, her pussy or ass stretched wide, her moans wild, “AAHH UUUHH, MANOJ, YESSS.” Hareeta’s eyes were wide, her breath quick, but she didn’t look away either.

One night, as we watched, my hand brushed Hareeta’s thigh, and she didn’t pull away. My fingers found her pussy, rubbing softly through her pajamas, her breath hitching as she leaned into me. 

We kissed, her lips soft, her body warm, our secret growing in the shadows of Mom’s moans. It became our ritual—watching Mom and Manoj fuck, my hand on Hareeta’s pussy, her hand sometimes brushing my dick, our kisses quick and guilty. 

We were happy, in our own fucked-up way, bonded by the taboo, by the thrill of what we saw and what we did.

Hareeta: Sanjay, why do they do that? Mom’s so loud, it’s weird.

Me: It’s… what grown-ups do, Hareeta. They like it. Makes them happy.

Hareeta: It looks like it hurts, but she’s smiling. Do you like watching?

Me: Yeah, it’s… exciting. Do you like it when I touch you?

Hareeta: Mmm, yeah, it feels nice. Don’t tell Mom, okay?

Me: Never. It’s our secret, Hareeta.

We’d giggle, our hands exploring, our eyes locked on Mom’s body, her pussy or ass taking Manoj’s cock, her moans a soundtrack to our own forbidden game. 


I knew it was wrong, but I didn’t care. Hareeta and I were happy, our bond a strange mirror of Mom and Manoj’s, built on lust and secrets



 

                                                                 THE END!!

[Rajeev Gupta]

/////////////

[Rajeev Gupta]

''''''''''''''''

[Rajeev Gupta]

It struck me that you are trying to capitalize on the views/likes your previous story has received by continuing a new story under the same thread. Brilliant... clp);

Yes exactly, while you hopelessly & sadly try to gain relevance by posting on my thread that is gaining viewership after you lost relevance & viewership long ago on all your threads!  


Actually, you have a good idea, let me create a new thread & watch how it will gain viewership faster & surpass all the views your thread got, are you ready for the challenge?

[Rajeev Gupta]

Guys, there has been a lot of questions regarding the ending of this story & that of Mr Vikram which I deleted.

Should we revive Mr Vikram's story or continue Whispers of lust by adding unique plots??

[Rajeev Gupta]

So much very expected and predicted about your story...if you are so doubtful then leave alone your readers...

And you talk about competition... my competition is with real writers who write real meaningful stories... you are not even in my rear view mirrors...

So best of luck with whatever you have in mind...

Not doubtful, I give what my readers want, but for you, you bored your readers with nonsensical rubbish to the extent they abandoned your thread and they flooded mine. That's your pain.

But you are doing a good job by trying to gain elusive relevancy by posting on my growing thread. And as your name suggests, Preety, you are just a girl on her period who is running out of sanitary pads no wonder your are constantly in mood swings.

In fact, keep replying to my thread, in that way you are pushing my thread back to the top of the forum every time you reply. 

[Rajeev Gupta]

MOM CONTINUOUS SECRET FUCK WITH VIKRAM

STORY CONTIUED DUE TO REQUESTS




The Hospital and the Discovery 


It had been a few days since Dad got sick. He was in the hospital, lying in a bed with tubes in his arms, his face pale and tired. The room smelled like medicine and cleaning stuff, the machines beeping all the time, making me nervous.  
 
Mom sat by his side, holding his hand, but she didn’t seem all there. Her eyes kept going to her phone, her fingers tapping the screen when she thought I wasn’t looking. I knew she was hiding something. 
 
We were in Dad’s hospital room, a small, cold place with white walls and bright lights that buzzed. Dad looked small in the bed, his hospital gown too big for him.  
 
Mom was next to him, but her mind was somewhere else. She wore a tight black blouse that showed off her huge breasts, almost popping out. Her blue trousers hugged her thick thighs and fat ass, which looked even bigger in those high heels.  
 

Dad’s eyes got wide when she walked in earlier, like he couldn’t believe she dressed like that for a hospital visit. She looked like a slut, not the mom who used to pray every morning.  
 
Her makeup was heavy, her lips red, her ass raised high by those heels, swaying with every step. I didn’t say anything, but my dick twitched in my pants, my mind all messed up by how she looked. 
Mom stood up, smoothing her blouse, her breasts jiggling a bit. “I’m going to the bathroom,” she said, grabbing her purse and walking out.  
 
Her heels clicked on the floor, her ass moving side to side, the tight trousers showing every curve. I watched her go, my heart pounding, feeling both ashamed and excited. 
 
Dad was half-asleep, his breathing slow. I looked at her purse on the chair. Something made me want to check it. I had to know what she was hiding. I grabbed her phone, my hands shaking, and unlocked it—her password was my birthday, so it was easy.  
 
I opened WhatsApp and scrolled through her chats until I saw Vikram’s name. My stomach flipped.  
 
Vikram was Dad’s friend, a tall, strong guy with a cocky smile who always looked at Mom like she was his. I’d seen them talk too close at parties, his hand on her arm, her giggling like a kid. I clicked their chat, and my eyes went wide at what I read. 

 
WhatsApp Conversation Between Mom and Vikram 


Vikram (10:32 AM): Jaya, baby, I’m dying to see you. I want to kiss every inch of you, feel your body against me. When are you coming to me? I’m hard just thinking about you. You drive me wild. 
 
Mom (10:35 AM): Vikram, you need to stop. I can’t meet you right now, it’s not a good time. My husband’s in the hospital, and I have to be here for him. I want to see you, but it’s too risky. I’m trying to do the right thing. 
 
Vikram (10:36 AM): Why not, Jaya? I’m going crazy thinking about your pussy, how it feels when I’m inside you. You love it when we’re together, don’t you? Sneak away for me, just for a little bit. I don’t care about your husband, I want you. 
 
Mom (10:38 AM): My husband’s sick, Vikram, really sick. I can’t just leave him in the hospital like that. It’s wrong, and I’d feel terrible. But you make it so hard to say no. I’m trying to be good here. 
 
Vikram (10:39 AM): Sick? Perfect, he’s out of the way. I want you all to myself, Jaya, no one else. I love how you scream my name, how your body shakes. You know you want to be with me right now. 
 
Mom (10:40 AM): Haha, why do you say stuff like that? That’s so mean, Vikram! I shouldn’t laugh, but you’re too much. My husband’s fighting for his health, and you’re happy about it? You’re making me feel all kinds of wrong. 
 
Vikram (10:41 AM): Mean? I just want us to be together, Jaya. I don’t give a damn about him, I want to feel you again, every curve of you. I’m not sorry for wanting you all to myself. You feel the same, don’t you? 
 
Mom (10:42 AM): Lol, you’re too much, Vikram. I can’t believe I fell for you, you know that? How did I end up like this, sneaking around with you? I’m supposed to be a good wife. But you make it so hard to stay good. 
 
Vikram (10:43 AM): Easy, Jaya, it’s because I make you feel alive. That night, you went wild on my cock, screaming, your ass bouncing like crazy. You can’t get enough of me, and I’m hooked on you. That’s why you’re mine. You know it’s true. 
 
Mom (10:45 AM): Haha, oh my god, you’re so full of yourself! Okay, fine, you make me feel things I shouldn’t. That night was… intense, I can’t lie. But I shouldn’t be talking like this. I’m in a hospital, Vikram! 
 
Vikram (10:46 AM): Intense? You were a goddess, Jaya, the way you moved on me. I want to touch you again, make you scream my name. Meet me at a hotel tonight. I need you, baby. Don’t make me wait. I want to fuck your ass 
 
Mom (10:48 AM): Vikram, I can’t do that! What about my husband and my son? I can’t just leave them and run off with you. It’s too much, and I’d feel so guilty. You know I want you, but it’s not that simple. 
 
Vikram (10:49 AM): Bring your kid, Jaya. He won’t get what’s going on, he’s not gonna know. Leave your husband in the hospital, they’ll handle him. I need to be with you, to feel you again. I don’t care about him, only you. 

Mom (10:51 AM): You’re insane, Vikram. I can’t bring my son to watch us… you know, do that. My husband needs me here, he’s so weak right now. I’d be a terrible person if I left him like that. But you make it sound so tempting. 
 
Vikram (10:52 AM): He doesn’t need you like I do, Jaya. I want to kiss you, hold you, make your body shake again. I’ll take you to a nice hotel, make it a night you won’t forget. Which one you want? The Grand Palace? Or something even fancier? 
 
Mom (10:54 AM): Which hotels are you talking about? Are you serious about this? I can’t believe I’m even thinking about it. You’re gonna get me in so much trouble. But a hotel sounds… nice. 
 
Vikram (10:55 AM): I’m dead serious, baby. I’ll book the Grand Palace, get us a suite with a big bed. I’ll buy you gold, Jaya—a necklace, maybe a ring. You’ll look so sexy with it on, glowing for me. Say you’ll come. 
 
Mom (10:57 AM): A ring?! Vikram, no way, that’s too much! People will think we’re… you know, together for real. I can’t do that to my husband, it’s too far. You’re crazy for even suggesting it. 
 
Vikram (10:58 AM): To hell with your husband, Jaya. You’re mine, every part of you, and I want everyone to know it. I’ll make you feel so good you’ll forget him. I want you in my bed tonight, screaming my name. Say you’ll come, baby. 
 
Mom (11:00 AM): I don’t know, Vikram, this is so hard. It’s been two weeks since we… you know, did it. I miss you, but my husband’s so sick. I shouldn’t even be thinking about this. God, you’re making me crazy. 

Vikram (11:01 AM): Two weeks is too long, Jaya. I know you’re dying to feel me again, to let go like last time. Come tonight, I’ll make you scream louder than ever. I don’t care about him, I care about you. You know you want this. 
 
Mom (11:03 AM): Haha, you’re so bad, Vikram. Okay, fine, I’ll come tonight, but just for a little bit. Don’t make me regret this, okay? I’m only doing this because you won’t stop. I’ll figure out a way to get out. 
 
Vikram (11:04 AM): Hell yes, Jaya! I’m so pumped, baby, I can’t wait to have you. Be ready for me, I’m not holding back tonight. You’re gonna love every second. Don’t be late. 
 
Mom (11:05 AM): Lol, you’re too much, Vikram. Okay, I’ll see you tonight. Don’t be late, or I’ll change my mind. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Just make it quick, okay? 
 
I stared at the phone, my heart racing, my dick hard in my pants. Mom was planning to meet Vikram tonight, even with Dad lying sick in the hospital. She cared more about Vikram than Dad’s health, and Vikram didn’t give a damn about Dad, talking like he wanted him gone.  
 
She was such a slut, falling for Vikram just because he promised gold and silver, but I didn’t care. The thought of seeing Vikram fuck her made my blood rush.  
 
I remembered the last time, her fat ass bouncing, her pussy stretched wide, her moans loud. It was wrong, but I wanted to see it again, to watch her body shake, her breasts bounce, her pussy and asshole take his cock. 
I heard footsteps coming down the hall, quick and sharp—her heels. I shoved the phone back in her purse, my hands shaking, and sat back in the chair, pretending to look at Dad.  
 
He was still asleep, the machines beeping steadily. Mom walked in, her black blouse tight, her breasts almost spilling out, her blue trousers hugging her thick thighs and fat ass.  


THIS IS EXACTLY HOW MOM LOOKED IN TERMS OF HER FIGURE AND DRESSING.



 
Her high heels clicked, making her ass look even bigger, raised up like an invitation. She smiled at me, but it was forced, like she was hiding something. 
 
“Me, we’re leaving soon,” she said, her voice soft but shaky. “Let’s say bye to Dad.” 
I nodded, my throat tight. “Okay, Mom.” I stood up, glancing at Dad. He opened his eyes, looking weak but awake. 
 
“Where you going?” he asked, his voice hoarse. 
Mom leaned down, kissing his forehead. Her breasts pressed against the bed, and I saw Dad’s eyes flicker to them, confused by her outfit. “Just out for a bit, honey,” she lied, her voice sweet but fake. 
 
 “I need to run some errands. I’ll be back soon, don’t worry.” 
Dad nodded, too tired to argue. “Okay, be careful. Take Me with you.” 
 
Mom smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I will. Rest now, you need it. I’ll check on you later.” She patted his hand, but her mind was already somewhere else. 
 
I was shocked. She’d agreed to meet Vikram after two weeks of not fucking, and she was lying to Dad’s face about it. My heart raced, my dick still hard from reading their chat. Vikram’s shameless talk, not caring about Dad, made it clear he was a pervert, only wanting Mom for her body.  
 
I wanted to be mad, but I wasn’t. I was happy, excited even, because I might see Vikram fuck her tonight. Her slutty outfit, her lies—it all made me think she was such a whore, but it only made me want to watch more. 
 
We grabbed our stuff and walked out of the room, Mom’s heels clicking loud on the hospital floor. Her ass swayed in those tight trousers, her breasts bouncing with each step. I followed her, my mind spinning, my body buzzing with excitement. 

 
Walking to the Meeting Spot 


We left the hospital and walked down the street, the evening air cool against my skin. Mom didn’t say much, just kept checking her phone, her fingers moving fast. I could tell she was texting Vikram, probably making sure he was coming.  
 
Her blouse was so tight her breasts looked like they’d pop out any second, and those trousers made her ass look huge, jiggling as she walked in her high heels. She looked like a slut, not a mom visiting her sick husband. I couldn’t stop staring, my dick twitching again, my mind stuck on what I’d read. 
We stopped at a corner near a busy street, cars honking in the distance, streetlights glowing. I looked at her, confused. “Mom, why we standing here?” I asked, my voice low. 
 
She smiled, her red lips shiny. “It’s a surprise, Me. Just wait a little bit, okay? You’ll see, it’s gonna be fun.” 
 
I frowned, but my heart was racing. “What kind of surprise? We’re just standing on the street. Tell me where we’re going, Mom.” 
 
She laughed, but it sounded nervous. “Don’t worry, Me. It’s something special, I promise. Just be patient for me, okay?” 
 
I nodded, but I knew what was coming. I’d read the texts. She was meeting Vikram, and she was bringing me along, just like he said.  
 
My stomach flipped with excitement, my dick getting hard again thinking about what I might see. Her outfit, her lies, the way she was acting—it all screamed she was a slut, chasing Vikram’s promises of gold. But I didn’t care. I wanted to see him fuck her, to watch her pussy stretch, her ass bounce, her moans fill the air. 

 
Vikram Arrives 


A car pulled up, a shiny black one I recognized right away. It was Vikram’s. My heart jumped, and before I could think, I ran to the car, a grin on my face.  
 
I hugged him as he got out, his strong arms wrapping around me. He was tall, his shirt tight over his muscles, his smile cocky and shameless. 
 
“Vikram, you’re here!” I said, my voice loud. “I haven’t seen you in so long. What’s going on?” 
He laughed, patting my back. “Hey, kid, good to see you too. I’m just here to hang out with your mom, catch up a bit. Got a little surprise for you both tonight.” 
 
Mom walked over, her heels clicking, her ass swaying. “Vikram, you didn’t have to come all this way,” she said, but her smile was wide, her eyes locked on him. “I told you I’d figure it out. You’re gonna get us in trouble.” 
 
Vikram grinned, his eyes on her breasts, shameless as ever. “Jaya, you look too good to stay out of trouble. I couldn’t wait to see you, baby. Let’s make this night fun, yeah?” 
 
I climbed into the back seat, my heart pounding. Vikram handed me an iPad, still in the box, shiny and new. “Here, kid, a little gift for you,” he said, winking. “Keep you busy while me and your mom talk. You like games, right?” 
 
My eyes went wide. “Whoa, an iPad? For real? Thanks, Vikram!” I tore open the box, my hands shaking with excitement. “This is so cool. You didn’t have to do this.” 
 
Mom smiled, but it was tight, like she was nervous. “Vikram, you’re spoiling him. He doesn’t need all this stuff. But… thank you, it’s sweet of you.” 
Vikram leaned closer to her, his voice low, his pervert side showing. “Anything for you, Jaya. Makes it easier for us to have fun, right? He’s happy, we’re happy.” 
 
I saw Mom hug him, her breasts pressing against his chest. I caught a glimpse of his hand squeezing her breast, quick but firm, and then their lips met, a deep, hungry kiss.  






 
Mom pulled back fast, her eyes darting to me, checking if I saw. I pretended to look at the iPad, but I saw it all. Vikram’s hand moved lower, pointing at her pussy through her trousers, a naughty grin on his face.  
 
Mom smirked, her hand brushing his dick through his pants, her eyes flicking to me again to make sure I wasn’t looking.  
 
Vikram gave her a smug look, not caring who saw his pervert ways, and I saw her mouth move, whispering something. 
 
“Vikram, where’s my gold necklace?” she asked, her voice low but playful. “You said you’d get me something nice. Don’t tell me you forgot.” 
 
He leaned in, whispering loud enough for me to hear. “Oh, I got it, Jaya. You’ll get it before we get to the room tonight. Gonna make you look so good with it on.” 
 
Mom winked at him, her hand still on his dick for a second before I spoke up, making her pull away fast. “Mom, you miss Vikram?” I asked, my voice innocent but knowing. “You guys seem happy to see each other.” 
Mom froze, her face red. “Me, it’s not like that. We’re just… catching up, you know? Vikram’s an old friend, that’s all.” 
 
Vikram laughed, his eyes on her, shameless as ever. “Jaya, tell the kid the truth. You miss me, don’t you? Come on, answer him, I wanna hear it.” 
 
Mom squirmed, her blouse tight, her breasts heaving. “Okay, fine, I miss talking to him. He’s fun to be around, Me. But don’t make it weird, okay?” 
 
My mom still doesn’t know that I am aware of their kinky stuff and their sexual affair. 
 
I grinned, pushing it. “Vikram, you miss Mom? You guys are acting all close.?” 
Vikram didn’t even blink, his grin wide, his pervert side clear. “Hell yeah, I miss your mom. She’s special, kid, makes me smile every time I see her. We got a lot to catch up on tonight.” 
 
Mom shot him a look, but she was smiling. “Vikram, stop it, you’re gonna make him think something’s up. Let’s just go, okay? Me’s got his iPad, he’s fine.” 
 
I nodded, pretending to focus on the iPad, but my heart was racing. Mom was such a slut, touching Vikram’s dick, asking about gold, lying to Dad. Vikram’s shameless talk, not caring about Dad, proved he was a pervert, only wanting Mom for her body.  
 
But I didn’t care. I wanted to see them together, to watch Vikram fuck her pussy and ass, to hear her scream like in the texts. The car started moving, and I sat back, my dick hard, my mind buzzing with what was coming. 


 
Arriving at the Hotel 



The car ride was quiet, except for Mom and Vikram whispering in the front. I couldn’t hear much, but I saw her hand on his thigh, his hand brushing her breast again when he thought I wasn’t looking.  
 
The iPad glowed in my lap, but I wasn’t playing it. I was thinking about Mom’s texts, how she agreed to meet Vikram after two weeks of not fucking. She didn’t care about Dad, lying there sick.  
 
She cared about Vikram, his promises of gold and hotels. Vikram’s pervert attitude, not giving a damn about Dad, made it clear he only wanted to fuck her. She was a slut, but it made me happy, knowing I might see her get fucked tonight. 
 
We pulled up to a huge building, lights everywhere, people bustling outside. The place was fancy, with big glass doors and shiny cars parked out front. Mom’s eyes went wide, her mouth open. 
 
“Vikram, we’re here?” she asked, her voice shaky. “This is the place? It’s huge!” 
Vikram grinned, pointing at the building. “Yup, Grand Palace. Told you I’d take you somewhere nice. Gonna make this night special, Jaya.” 
 
Mom gasped, her hand on her chest, her breasts heaving in that tight blouse. “Vikram, this is too much! Where’s the hotel part? I didn’t think it’d be this fancy!” 


To be continued.............